Freamhaigh

by Donald D. Allan

  Robert spoke up. "Steve is a remarkable man. I know now that he used to be a highwayman stealing from Healy for years. They were legend back in Munsten. Everyone knew of them. They could never be found. Their tactics were brilliant. Good to see he's helping Will and the draoi."

  "Speaking of stealing," said Brent. "You all know where we hid the gold?"

  The Admiral shook his head.

  "It’s safe," replied James. "Will saw to it. He buried it at Rigby Farm. Without draoi powers, it would take you months to get to it, provided you even knew where to start digging."

  "I see," said the Admiral, but Robert doubted he did. The Admiral had never seen the draoi displaying their powers. He had observed the healing done by the draoi to the injured returning from the Crossroads. Without their powers, many would have died or been left behind. He had watched wounds close and disappear. He had seen life return to the faces of men and women close to death. Not a mark remained. It's hard to prove something when the proof has no physical evidence, thought Robert. He remembered a soldier pointing to his exposed abdomen and saying he had been completely run through. The Admiral poked the stomach and saw nothing other than the hairy stomach of a young soldier. The Admiral had looked completely unconvinced until others came forward and pointed to their arms and legs and heads, stating the miracle of the healing that had taken place. In the end, it was those who had lost limbs that had convinced the Admiral. He had looked at the perfectly healed stumps of arms and legs and then Brent had seen the look of awe flash across the Admiral's face.

  Robert knew when James said the draoi had hidden the gold that it was unreachable without the use of the draoi powers. Part of him wasn’t afraid to admit he feared the draoi, but he had spoken with Will and Nadine. Met them and grown to like them. He knew they were not demons, but people he could trust. More importantly, Steve Comlin had trusted them, and Steve was the best judge of character he had ever met.

  "The gold is safe, and we will make good use of it when we need to. With it we can buy supplies to feed this city should Healy lay siege as we expect. The gold will allow us to weather this storm. As for the draoi, I welcome their aid, whatever they can provide."

  Robert looked at James and then Brent. “General, I presume you will be remaining here for the winter?”

  “Yes, I’m here to stay.”

  “Can I request that James return to Rigby Farm?”

  “Whatever for?”

  “I would like to establish a liaison position. Between us and the draoi. To show our trust in them and to allow a better exchange of information.”

  Brent thought for a moment and looked at James. “What do you think?”

  James looked crestfallen. “I would rather stay here, to be honest.”

  “I know you would but what Robert suggests has merit. Plus, you can look out for Edward. He needs our protection.”

  “Our protection when he is surrounded by draoi and Steve’s crew?”

  “Yes, I know it sounds trite. But spend time with Edward. Talk to him of Munsten, the kingship, military matters. Educate him. He’s been too long the chirurgeon. Time he starts to learn what it means to be King.”

  James looked dejected to Robert. He knew of the friendship between Brent and James and knew this was a painful decision. Robert wanted them separated. Brent would focus better with him gone.

  “Of course, sir. I understand. I’ll depart at the end of the week.”

  “I’m sorry, James. It is a good idea and I can’t think of anyone better to do this.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The Admiral nodded. "Yes, well, there you have it. Good idea, Robert. Gold in one hand and the draoi in the other. While I don’t agree that Edward should remain so far from where we can protect him, I do bow to your knowledge of the matter, Brent. If you say it is the safest place in Belkin, then I believe you.

  “Back to Jergen, I do believe that Miller will want to lay siege come spring. He knows our army is here and holed up. We aren’t going anywhere. But he has to survive an encounter with my ship BNS Munsten. He will want to block the seaway so that he can stand outside the city gates until we starve from within. But if we can keep the seaway open, we can survive whatever he throws our way. He can sit outside the gates while we eat and drink and laugh at him.

  "But black powder and the cannons change all that. We know that. In the hands of Healy, he can close our supply lines. Neutralise my ship-of-the-line. Not that it would matter any longer. He could knock down the city wall in days. The key to our survival is getting rid of that threat. Without black powder, he cannot lay siege."

  Brent agreed. "It will be as you say, Admiral. We will have a thousand strong by spring. Trained and ready to fight but holed up here in Jergen. Our priority is Portsmouth and Georges Island." He looked sadly at James before turning to Robert. "Ask Major Tibert to join us, will you?"

  Robert smiled and motioned to Emily. She rose and went to the conference room doors and opened one and called out. "Major Tibert, come on in."

  Four

  Cala, November 901 A.C.

  KATHERINE RIGBY COULD recall little of the past couple of weeks. She had scattered images of staggering through the wild with Dog following closely behind. Her powers thrummed through her and demanded release and so she twisted trees and uprooted grass on a whim. She reached into streams and forced trout to flip themselves out of the water onto the shore where she and Dog would descend on the bounty and swallow gobs of fresh flesh into their hungry mouths. There were long moments of darkness, followed by brief periods of clarity so clear that it threatened to overwhelm her sanity.

  Dog was her anchor, and she was his. They remained side-by-side as they roamed the wilderness. They feared nothing and watched in amusement as wildlife fled in front of them. They were no longer draoi. Not in the truest sense. They were more than draoi. They were something else. Something unseen in this world.

  They lost Gaea some days ago. Always she had followed them at a distance, keeping an eye on them. Katherine and Dog grew annoyed with her and hid from her. It had been too easy to accomplish. Katherine felt giddy. She was now free of everything.

  She had never felt such power. Dog revelled in his new awakening. He chatted non-stop about everything he felt and saw. The words were often meaningless and insane to her. But the endless chatter delighted her, and they spoke of many things. She now better understood dogs and Dog better understood people. The lines that blurred the two of them narrowed until little remained to separate the two of them. They saw through each other’s eyes and once used to it, used it to their advantage.

  Katherine and Dog were lost to their power. They had little control over it. It demanded use, and they fed their hunger for more power. Wielding it became an obsession. At those moments they felt unstoppable. For Katherine, it empowered who she was and made up for years of self-doubt. At times, the hunger and desire in Dog to hunt drove them to seek out and destroy animals. Dog surged forward across their bond and his desire to vanquish predators consumed them both.

  They unknowingly were coming closer and closer to Cala. Katherine, in rare moments of clarity, knew they had to avoid the city. She feared what she might do if she was to enter a place with people. Then the insanity would return, spiralling her downwards and she would be lost to the power. She destroyed. She tore apart nature and killed animals on a whim. It gave her pleasure. A sense of unlimited potential. She drank it like water.

  She needed no one now. No longer was she the scared girl dependent on others to care for her. When she had become draoi she had begun to open and secretly she had enjoyed the power over others it gave her. With the new powers, she was a force of nature. Together with Dog the land of Belkin was hers to do with as they pleased. A large part of her welcomed the freedom. She felt liberated and revelled in the strength.

  “We have become greater than Gaea,” she remarked during one evening of clarity. They had no need for sleep and instead used the dark to relax and talk. In the distance,
the glow from the city of Cala could be seen. She frowned with some stray thought. A small voice told her to stay away. She shook her head to clear the thought and reached out with her power to sense the world around her. The power flowed through her and she gasped at the pleasure it gave her. She wanted more.

  Do you think so? asked Dog.

  “Aye, I do. Our power is unlimited.”

  I’m afraid.

  “I’m not,” she remarked and then laughed as the insanity rose and swallowed her again.

  Kenneth Rowe finished his fourth pint of dark ale and wiped the wet from his lips with his sleeve. Already he could feel the ale pushing the cold of the night from his bones and he sighed in some relief. His table was by the window and unfortunately as far from the hearth as he could be. He was a regular here at the Prescott Tavern, located close to the main gate to Cala, but he had arrived late this evening after his wife insisted he start some repair work to their small house shadowed under the outer wall. By the time he was done and climbed down from the roof, night had fallen, and he had been frozen through and exhausted. He had thrown his hammer and nails into his leather tool bag and opened the front door to announce to his wife he was off to the pub for a pint. He had dropped the tool bag inside the door, slammed it shut to drown out the sound of his wife yelling at him, and made a fast beat to the pub. He chuckled as he walked away still hearing the wailing of his new born son, awake with the noise of his roof repair.

  A chill wind blew past his window and leaked in past the gaps in the frame to swirl around him and bring him back to the present. He shivered and lifted a single finger to Sally, the serving woman, to fetch him another pint. She rolled her eyes at him but moved over to the bar to fetch him another.

  Ah git na respect from women 'n' ah don’t ken how come.

  Just then he heard a noise outside the window. He looked around at the other patrons of the pub, but no one else had heard the noise over the din of conversation and laughter. He rubbed the frost off a small area on the thin pane of glass and squinted through the opening to the street. Street lamps burned dully, but he could see no movement outside. He looked a moment longer and then felt Sally approach his table. He looked up just as Sally plunked a new pint in front of him. The head swashed to the rim but remained in the clay tankard. Kenneth sucked in his saliva at the sight of the freshly poured pint. Sally scooped up his empty tankard and stood glaring down at him with her hands bent backwards at her hips, one dangling the tankard. Kenneth smiled up at her and drew two tuppence off the small pile on his table and handed them to her. She took the money and remained standing there. Sheepishly, he picked up a penny and gave it to her.

  “Mm, sorry,” he murmured.

  Sally opened her mouth to speak when she was interrupted by a high-pitched scream coming from outside in the direction of the city gate. Kenneth looked in surprise to Sally and then leaned forward to peer through the window pane where he had cleared it. It had frosted over again, and he cleared a spot with a warm palm and fingers. He peered through and could see the street was still deserted. He turned to say something to Sally just as three garrison soldiers ran clanking past the pub with swords drawn and looking grim.

  “Oh, dear,” exclaimed Kenneth. “Did ye see…?” He turned toward Sally, but she had already left his table and moved over to the front door.

  “William!” she yelled out to the owner behind the bar. “Something’s up by th' gate.” She pulled the tavern door open just in time to see another four garrison soldiers run past toward the gate.

  The pub grew quiet, listening. Cold air poured in through the door in a river and disturbed the dirt and dust that covered the floor of the pub. A few leaves left over from the fall swirled in past Sally's feet unnoticed. Sally took a tentative step out onto the porch and looked right toward the gate. The porch during summer was normally tightly packed with customers, but now it was barren and dark.

  They watched as Sally squinted and leaned her head forward toward the gate, trying to see clearer. Then she raised a hand to her mouth and cried out "No!" No sooner had she uttered the word, than her entire body turned into a red liquid and splashed onto the porch, her clothes settling to lie in a soggy heap. Coins clattered to the porch, and the tankard she had been holding shattered on impact. She had been standing there one moment and then as if turned to red water she had disappeared.

  Kenneth, sitting near the door saw it the clearest. She had shimmered and then went from solid to liquid in the blink of an eye. Bile rose quick and hot in his throat and he swallowed the acid in fright. Fear grabbed his bowels and threatened to loosen them. He clamped his need to evacuate and stifled a shriek. He was frozen in place despite the urge to run. Time seemed to slow, and his vision narrowed to a small tunnel in front of him.

  Around him, cries of fright exploded in the tavern as people finally allowed their brains to understand what they had just witnessed. Soon everyone was jumping up and pushing backwards in the tavern to clear the door and out the door in the kitchen. They jammed up and fought one another to get clear. Kenneth remained seated where he could see out the door and up toward the gate some ways. He watched as three garrison soldiers ran yelling away from the gate. They were looking behind them and then, like three buckets of water thrown to the ground, they turned to liquid and splashed to the street. Their uniforms and gear clattering and rolling beside their wet remains.

  Cries started to rise in the surrounding area of the city. Kenneth still sat frozen. Many in the tavern raced out the door, careful not to step where Sally’s remains dripped through the cracks in the porch. They looked toward the gate and then ran away from it.

  Tak' me wi' ye, come back! thought Kenneth in desperation, but he couldn’t find the strength to give his voice sound.

  He watched as more garrison and citizens ran away from the gate. He waited to see them turn to liquid, but this time they merely collapsed unmoving onto the street. By the way, they landed, Kenneth knew with certainty they had been dead before they had hit the ground.

  Whit's happening? he thought and then the question bubbled up through him and he yelled out, finding his voice at last. “Whit th' bugger is happening 'ere?”

  He heard someone banging on the sidewall of the tavern looking for another way out, but he refused to look away from the door. His head was locked toward the gate and the sliver of view he had out the door. More garrison ran past the tavern toward the gate.

  “Don’t,” he whispered to them. “Dinnae gang thare. Dinnae.”

  Just before they disappeared from his view he was certain he watched their arms and legs fall from their bodies. He heard them cry out and heard them land heavy to the street.

  This is a horror! Hulp! he thought, not realising he had yelled the words out loud.

  Down toward the gate he watched as a small woman, perhaps a girl, and a dog stepped out into the lamplight some fifty feet away. They stopped and looked around.

  Lassie! Lassie! Git clear! he thought to them. As if they heard him, they turned to look toward the tavern. Aye. Come 'ere 'n' sculk.

  Elated, he watched as they strode toward the tavern. A garrison soldier ran toward them and he watched as the woman raised a hand toward the man and he collapsed silently to the street. With a sudden realisation, he knew she was the cause of the killings.

  Na, na, na! he cried to himself. It can’t be her daein' this. Whit's happening? Awa wi ye! Stoap! Don’t come 'ere! She's th' Morrighan!

  The woman and the dog stepped into the doorway. A few patrons called out to her to step inside and hide. Many asked what was happening outside.

  She turned and looked at Kenneth and Kenneth knew true fear and evacuated his bowel and bladder. She was madness in the flesh. There was no reason behind her eyes. Nothing you could talk to or beg for forgiveness or mercy. She was Death—the Morrighan in the flesh. Just then her dog looked over at Kenneth and he saw two very human eyes looking back at him with an intelligence that stole his breath away. The woman moved her eyes
away from Kenneth and he cried out in relief. The dog and woman looked quickly around the tavern and all the people sitting and standing in fear. When the dog suddenly growled, the woman raised a hand and all the patrons, except Kenneth, fell to the ground, or forward onto tables, lifeless.

  The woman turned to Kenneth. “Tell her when you see her. I am God now. Tell her to stay away.”

  The woman walked out with the dog following close behind.

  Kenneth listened to the screams for a long, long time before he felt a presence near him.

  He looked up at a figure all in black. His eyes hurt to look at him. He felt that all light was being drawn to the figure. Kenneth was long past fear now. This new figure meant nothing to him.

  “Whit dae yi'll want?” he asked and felt mirth rise up within him. Ah think ah micht hae lost mah mind.

  “What happened here? It is being felt across the Realm,” said the figure.

  “Wha urr ye?”

  “It does not matter who I am. Answer me.”

  “’Twas th' Morrighan wi' a dug.”

  “Speak clearly. A woman and a dog?”

  “Aye, thay did a' this.” A laugh escaped Kenneth’s throat. A smell hit his nostrils, and he discovered he was sitting in his own cac and piss and it was cooling unpleasantly. He looked around the tavern and saw the lifeless eyes of all the people that he knew in this world. He thought then of his wife and child and realised that he didn’t care what had happened to them. That’s surprising.