OTHERLANDER: A Long Way From Home

by T. Kevin Bryan

  Thomas started to move again but hesitated as he heard another group of guards coming his way. He ducked behind a wooden keg, and they passed him without notice. Then, as quiet as a mouse, he scurried in the opposite direction.

  Chapter 94

  A prison guard stood at the prison’s outer wooden door as strange female moaning emanated from inside the cell. The guard was unfazed.

  The moaning grew louder, but the warrior stayed stolidly at his post. The moan crescendoed, transforming to a shriek.

  Inside the cell, John cradled Ellie in his arms. “Hey! Out there! You’ve got a sick prisoner in here!”

  Ellie wailed like a banshee.

  “She has a fever!” John gasped. “Or worse... we need some water!”

  The outer door opened; the guard peered through the bars.

  “Come on!” Deacon demanded. “If she dies, it’s your problem. You’ll have robbed your master of the pleasure of killing her. I’d bring that water if I were you.”

  The guard disappeared.

  Deacon, Ellie, and John exchanged a glance. Maybe this was working.

  The guard reappeared, carrying a bucket of water. He stepped through the cell’s outer door.

  Deacon stood clenching his fist, ready to spring at the guard the moment the cell door opened. “You did the right thing. Now if you will just—”

  Splash! The guard threw the entire contents of the bucket in Deacon’s face, drenching John and Ellie as well.

  So they just stared, dripping and dumbfounded. And the guard gave a hint of a smile before he exited, with a loud slam of the enormous outer door.

  Outside, in the fortress’s courtyard, the rising sun glinted off the big blade of an ax, being pressed to knife sharpness against a grindstone.

  Deacon, John, and Ellie sat silently in their cell. The outer door opened to reveal General Nawg. “It’s time.”

  Deacon, John, and Ellie marched down the hall toward their demise. Ellie glanced nervously at Deacon. “I’m still thinking,” he responded.

  Chapter 95

  In the great hall, Darcon leaned forward on his dais. His voice echoed across the chamber, “Dr. Colson, give me the way back through the portal!”

  Daniel responded flatly. “No.”

  Daniel knew the only way to stay alive was to keep Darcon thinking he had discovered the way back, even though he hadn’t actually cracked the combination. He didn’t know if his charade could last much longer.

  “What?”

  “Since coming here, I’ve learned how much you’ve stained this land with blood. No, Darcon, I am leaving you here to get what you deserve.”

  Darcon flinched slightly, just for a second, then whispered: “Ah. The clever Professor Colson.”

  Daniel watched as Darcon pushed his hood back and revealed the face and white hair of a hard-lived man in his late sixties. His face profoundly wrinkled and almost beached in its whiteness. “I knew it was only a matter of time until you figured me out… I see no need to keep you in the dark regarding my identity any longer.”

  Daniel stared, and then the puzzle fell into place. What he had suspected was now confirmed. “Michael Avery of Scotland. Professor of Medieval studies, Edinburgh.” Daniel smiled, grimly. “We all thought you were dead.”

  “It has been more than 30 years since I came through the portal.”

  Daniel’s mind reeled again at the time properties of the portal.

  “Yes, professor. The portal seems to have a mind of its own.”

  Darcon turned to the fire. “And how did you finally solve the enigma that is the stone circle, Mairead Fhada?” Darcon used the ancient Gaelic tongue. “Or what the locals of Umbria called it, Long Meg and Her Daughters.”

  “I read your book,” Daniel replied.

  Darcon laughed. “They all said I was a fool, I was losing my mind. Thinking the stone circles were portals. Like I was some Alice in Wonderland going down the rabbit hole.

  “I went to your funeral. It was my first week of university.”

  Darcon softened at this for a moment.

  “How did I die?”

  “It was assumed you took your life,” Daniel answered. “Threw yourself in the river.”

  “Ah, of course. I can hear them now. Professor Avery, your much learning has driven you mad,” Darcon smirked.

  “Your book was why I came to Cambridge, it set me on my academic path. Without it, I would not have pursued the constellation patterns as timing to open the door.”

  Darcon smiled. “Yes, good work that.” A hint of his Scottish accent came through.

  “It was brilliant,” Daniel responded.

  “Do you remember our great poet Wordsworth? Of Course you do. He wrote a verse about our stone circle, Long Meg.”

  Daniel nodded, unsure of this more humane Darcon.

  Darcon turned back to the fire and gazing into it began:

  “A weight of Awe not easy to be borne

  Fell suddenly upon my spirit, cast

  From the dread bosom of the unknown past,

  When first I saw that family forlorn;

  Speak Thou, whose massy strength and stature scorn

  The power of years - pre-eminent, and placed

  Apart, to overlook the circle vast.

  Speak Giant-mother! Tell it to the Morn,

  While she dispels the cumbrous shades of night;

  Let the Moon hear, emerging from a cloud,

  At whose behest uprose on British ground

  That Sisterhood in hieroglyphic round

  Forth-shadowing, some have deemed the infinite

  The inviolable God that tames the proud.”

  Darcon pulled something from the folds of his robe and gazed at it longingly.

  “We loved to walk among her stones in the early fog. The sun would rise over the hills of Umbria, and in that in-between time, we would talk of our dreams, our future.”

  Darcon slipped the item back into his robe, and Daniel had a glimpse. It was a photograph, yellowed with age and tattered at the edges.

  “It was there on those misty mornings that the legend of Mairead Fhada, Long Meg and Her Daughters, got a hold of me, and she would not let go.”

  Daniel knew the legend all too well. How it was said that Long Meg and her daughters were a coven of witches who were holding their sabbath, when the Scottish wizard Michael Scot, came upon them and turned them to stone. The stones of the circle are said to be uncountable, and that should anyone ever reach the same total twice, that the spell would be broken and the stones would turn back to women.

  Local history also told the tale of the local squire who tried to remove the stones. As the work started, a tremendous and terrifying storm broke out overhead, which caused the work to be permanently abandoned.

  “The legend of Michael of Scotland,” Daniel said.

  “Yes, yes. Michael of Scotland. Did you know he was my ancestor?” Darcon smiled. “I was named after him. It was said he disappeared after his battle with Long Meg and her coven of witch daughters.” Darcon took on the air of a lecturing professor.

  “I wondered if there were any elements of the story that could be true. Not, of course, the rubbish about witches and people being turned to stone. No, those were stories created later to frighten people away from the door. Could the legends of the thinning of the mist between worlds be real? And what of the strange storms that seemed to come at various times throughout the decades?”

  Daniel couldn’t help but be awed by the origin of this man’s journey. “And so you began your search.”

  “Yes. And I wrote my book.” Darcon turned to Daniel with a snarl. “That’s when the laughter began. At first, it was little comments I would hear spoken in whispers in the dining hall of the college. Then, the chuckles at faculty gatherings. The invitations stopped coming to those gatherings. I was passed over for department positions. Finally, I realized that only my tenure kept me from being released.”

  Darcon put his hand absentmindedly into
the upper fold of his robe near his heart.

  “Only one person believed in me.” He withdrew his hand, clutching the tattered photograph and gazed at it longingly. “Helen.” He whispered.

  “Your wife.”

  “Her love, her admiration should have been enough.” Darcon’s voice dropped. “It wasn’t.” Darcon slumped back into his high wooden chair upon the dais.

  “I left her one night in October. I came through the portal.”

  Darcon straightened and turned back to Daniel. “Professor Colson, I must insist. I need the way through that door, and I’m counting on you to supply it.”

  “Professor Avery, please. Stop this madness!”Daniel pleaded.

  The man in the ornate wooden chair stood barely containing his rage. “My name is Darcon!” He hissed, “You will open the door for me!”

  “I owe you nothing.”

  “Professor, you think you know me? I may have been a mere intellect on earth, but here I am, Lord!”

  “Then, why go back?”

  “Oh, I’m not going back to stay,” Darcon smiled.

  Daniel asked, “Just to get some modern trinkets of power, for more effective oppression of the people here?”

  “Well said, Professor Colson. With such thinking, we could work well together.”

  “And how is it you knew the way to get here, but you have yet to figure out the way back?”

  “A minor detail,” Darcon admitted, “that I overlooked in my zeal to transfer here. You see, I assumed the original deciphering of the ‘combination’ to the portal would work the same in both directions. Clever, those who designed it, and I’m counting on you to be just as clever.”

  Darcon turned to the fire again. “Yes, I was overzealous then. But surely, now that you and your son are trapped here, you can understand my zeal to return.”

  “Such zeal has now caused two planets great pain. And your impatient rushing ahead triggered mine. First, you asked, ‘could we?’ not ‘should we?’ and then I idiotically followed suit. Without such impatience, perhaps both of us could have been great scientists.”

  “Unless we get out of here, neither of us will be so known, and I’ve learned enough ruthlessness here that I suspect I can surpass you wherever we are.”

  This made Daniel feel pity, but Darcon took it as empathy. He softened and, looking almost poignant, said: “Professor, is there no way I can persuade you to help me?”

  But the flames cast a strange shadow over Darcon’s face, and Daniel quickly responded: “No, no way. From what I’ve seen here, nothing could ever make me give you the pattern.”

  Darcon narrowed his eyes and said smugly: “So you say. But like I said, I’ve learned ruthlessness.” And he gestured to the door.

  The guards there opened them, and two more shadow warriors roughly dragged Thomas in. Thomas fearfully glanced around, then saw Daniel. “Dad!” Thomas shouted.

  And Daniel started to move to his son but discovered two shadow warriors had come up and restrained him.

  “Thomas!”

  Thomas struggled in the guards’ grips.

  “Dad, I followed you.”

  Daniel turned to Darcon. “Let him go.”

  Darcon nodded. The warriors released their grip. Thomas rushed to his father, and Daniel scooped up his boy in a mighty hug.

  “Thomas, are you all right?”

  “Yes... Dad, why did you leave us?”

  “I was a selfish fool. Son, will you forgive me? I will never leave you again.”

  Daniel stepped back from his son, holding him by the shoulders. As he did, he noticed something swing out between the lapels of Thomas’s jacket. It was the pendant Loren had given Thomas.

  Daniel immediately recognized the Trinitarian Celtic circle intertwined with the Dragon. He started to say something, but quickly remembered their predicament and closed his mouth.

  Thomas looked at his father. “I love you, Dad. And I forgive you.”

  “Son, I don’t deserve you.”

  Darcon’s patience was exhausted. “How sweet... but enough!”

  The shadow warriors tore Daniel and Thomas apart.

  “No. Dad!”

  “Hey, take it easy!” Daniel demanded of the guards as they dragged his son back.

  “Thomas, we’re going to be okay. You’ll see. We are going to get through this.”

  Darcon stepped between the father and his son, then turned and spoke to Thomas like a kindly uncle. “Thomas, your father, and I have some business to finish, and then you may go home. Isn’t that right, professor?”

  Daniel considered his son. What else could he do?

  “Yes,” Daniel answered, never taking his eyes from Thomas.

  An older bearded male servant entered along with Mia. Mia snuck a glance at Daniel, and their eyes connected for a moment, then she quickly averted her attention.

  “Master, they are ready to begin.”

  “Good!” Darcon exclaimed. “I’m so glad both of you could be here for this... curtains, please.”

  The slave girl, Mia, and the older bearded slave drew back heavy drapes, and harsh sunlight filled the room. Beyond the thick curtains stood large ornate doors. They were opened onto a large balcony, which looked down three stories onto the fortress’s courtyard.

  Darcon stepped to the balcony and motioned for Daniel and Thomas to join him. The guards thrust the Earthlings forward.

  As Thomas stepped out, he could see the entire courtyard. At its center stood a raised wooden platform. Around the base of the platform were hundreds of human soldiers in dark armor emblazoned with the crimson writhing serpent of Darcon and shadow warriors standing in formation.

  Daniel and Thomas were forced into their chairs on the balcony. Darcon smiled at father and son, then said with a flourish, “Let the executions begin.”

  Chapter 96

  Gears turned, and chains groaned; at the side end of the courtyard, one of the iron portcullis raised into the stone wall. General Nawg emerged from the darkness, followed by Deacon, Ellie, and John, along with their guard squad of shadow warriors.

  “Deacon!” Thomas shouted, jumping to his feet.

  The three friends looked up at the boy. Ellie gave him a sad smile. Then their attention was turned back to the solemn task at hand.

  Rough hands pushed Thomas back into his seat. Daniel pulled his agonized son close, attempting to comfort him and shared a solemn glance with Albright.

  Deacon, John, and Ellie were marched onto the platform. The burly executioner waited there, leaning on a huge ax, his face covered in a black hood. Deacon was shoved forward. Shadow warriors snapped metal cuffs onto his wrist and locked a chain around his neck.

  Watching the resistance’s mighty leader forced to his knees, Darcon gloated as the guards threaded the chain from Deacon’s neck through the wrist cuffs to a ring in front of an ancient wooden block stained black from years of executions.

  “More wine! My goblet is empty.” Darcon ordered, and the slave girl Mia immediately brought a pitcher to comply.

  As Deacon kneeled, he offered a comforting smile up at Ellie and John. A tear rolled down Ellie’s cheek.

  Deacon laid his neck on the block.

  The executioner took his place. He adjusted his grip on the ax’s leather-wrapped handle, then looked to his master on the balcony.

  Darcon smiled—enjoying his victory, savoring the fall of his long-time foe, who had nipped at Darcon’s heels since Deacon was only fourteen yours old. This thorn would finally be extracted from his side. He stood and raised his goblet. His voice echoed in the courtyard, “To the leader of the resistance. How the mighty have fallen!”

  The bloodthirsty warriors assembled there shouted and clashed their shields and swords. Darcon raised his hand for silence. Then he nodded, and the executioner lifted the ax high; it glinted in the morning sun.

  Thomas could not bear to watch and bowed his head.

  Ellie turned her face away.

  Deacon closed his ey
es.

  The executioner drew back to swing the ax down with force. At that moment, a dragon’s trumpet echoed through the fortress.

  Deacon’s eyes flashed open. "Thorn!"

  The deadly ax fell, but Deacon jerked back—making the chain that bound him taut across the chopping block. Sparks flew as the executioner’s ax severed the chain.

  Deacon was free!

  Deacon jumped to his feet and slugged the blinking executioner, who fell like a stone. Deacon looked to the sky in amazement to see Thorn leading an army of dragons and their riders, all armed for battle.

  Thorn trumpeted his battle cry. And hundreds of dragons answered his call like a mighty roll of thunder.

  Chapter 97

  “For the kingdom!” Tuncan shouted, and the riders of the resistance echoed in unison, as they poured over the walls.

  A shadow-warrior sentry put a horn to his lips to sound the alarm, but thwip!—he was shot in the throat by an arrow. Other guards along the fortress wall were plucked from the wall by giant talons.

  “For the kingdom!” Mia, the slave girl, shouted to the other slaves and servants, then swung her wine pitcher, crashing it into the head of the nearest guard. Seeing her bravery and emboldened by her cry, the slaves and servants took up the call and joined the resistance.

  Realizing the enormity of the rebel forces, General Nawg turned from the battle and slipped down some dark stairs that burrowed into the fortress wall.

  Coming awake, the executioner watched the sky as the dragons and their riders came. Then he turned to where his prisoner should have been, only to see Deacon now holding the ax, shifting it from hand to hand.

  The executioner started to rise, but he barely got to his knees before Deacon swung the flat of the ax right at his face; the executioner’s nose broke, and he toppled unconscious off the dais.

  Ellie spun with her hands, clasped together, and gave a powerful uppercut to the shadow warrior coming up from behind her. As he fell, she grabbed the hilt of his sword and pulled it from its sheath.