by Ian Cook
Almost imperceptibly at first, like a rainbow when the sun goes in, the figures of Seth and Horus faded. Within a few seconds they were gone. The brilliant light around the Odin Stone became weaker and shrank, until only the Stone itself continued to glow. Finally, it turned back to dull grey, and an eerie silence settled over the landscape.
It was Larry who first noticed the Odin Stone starting to come back to life.
CHAPTER 83
Larry pointed a shaky arm towards the hole in the Odin Stone.
On one side of the hole, a pair of hands had appeared. The hands were soon followed by a pair of arms. The hands then seemed to grab the Stone from the inside, like someone trying to pull his whole body through. After a struggle, the figure of a Highland warrior gradually emerged through the hole and stood next to the Stone. Dressed in rough tartan, his straggly red hair hung down to his shoulders from under a tam-o’-shanter. In one hand he held a broadsword, and in the other a small wooden shield, decorated with metal studs. He faced towards Brodgar, raised the sword high in the air and shook it. His wild battle cry resounded around the Stones.
As he moved to one side, another similar figure pulled himself through, followed by another and another; until a whole army of about forty, flame-haired Highlanders was gathered around the Stone. They were all fully armed with a variety of swords of different shapes and sizes, and even the odd musket.
Forming themselves into a rough line facing Brodgar, they stormed towards the causeway, blood-curdling battle cries filling the air.
Meanwhile, more and more red-haired warriors poured through the hole. After the Highlanders came Norsemen, with horned helmets and battle-axes. They formed a tight group, bellowed oaths to Odin and Thor and chased after the Highlanders.
Larry, Jim and Syreeta watched, spellbound. Larry was the first to speak. “They’re the ancestor warriors,” was all he said.
Still more warriors were arriving through the hole: Phoenicians in white tunics, cone-shaped helmets and bronze swords; and the Peleset, the ancient Sea People, with their red-plumed headdresses.
Larry pointed to the Peleset coming towards them, barely able to contain his excitement. “Look! They’re the same as the man with the red-feathered headdress who Rebecca saw on Easter Island.”
A horde of Carthaginians came next in their glinting bronze cuirasses, marching three abreast in precise formation, their spears held upright. They were followed by red-haired South Pacific islanders, heavily tattooed and carrying huge wooden clubs, performing brief war dances before leaping and bounding across the rough grass.
As the horde charged towards them from Stenness, Jim and Syreeta watched, still totally astonished. Larry, though, could now scarcely contain himself.
“Go on! Get them!” he yelled, as they neared Brodgar.
Then, without warning, a lone horse and rider, resplendent in golden armour, leapt through the hole, the rider’s breastplate reflecting a flash of sunlight. The bay stallion reared as the rider stuck his spurs into its flanks. With superb horsemanship, he wheeled his horse around and came galloping along the causeway.
CHAPTER 84
At Brodgar, even as the Highlanders came nearer, steam billowed out of the pit. It blended with the soft mist that enveloped the hillside, becoming ever thicker and taking on a faint red tint; like a premonition of the bloody carnage that was about to occur.
In the Ring itself, there was complete confusion and chaos. The Egyptian guards were lost in the haze and wandered around aimlessly, waiting for orders that never came. Mothers searched desperately for their children, their spirits leaping whenever they caught a glimpse of a lone child, only to be dashed when they realised it wasn’t their own. Others, who were luckier, clasped their children, praying they would come to no harm.
The guards heard the battle cries of the Highlanders before they caught sight of them. The warriors emerged through the mist and were upon them before they could react. The guards, caught by surprise, hesitated for a moment. Then, as if by common assent, they took to their heels and ran for their lives.
They fell over each other, trying to flee in all directions, closely pursued by a motley collection of red-haired fighters. Some of them made it to the edge of the Ring, only to be met by yet more warriors, and were slaughtered as they backed up against the stones. A few stumbled and slid down the hillside to the loch, to be hacked down in the water. Some even tried to swim to safety but could not escape the thick hail of well-aimed spears thrown by the Carthaginians.
Only Inherkhau stood his ground, grimly facing the horde with his spear pointing out in front of him. A Highlander staggered to a halt then boldly strode towards him, swung his sword almost casually and cleaved the spear in two. As Inherkhau dropped the stump to the ground, the Highlander swung his sword back in an arc towards Inherkhau’s neck. Inherkhau stood there motionless, his eyes fixed straight ahead. The Highlander studied him for a moment and then prodded Inherkhau’s head with the point of his weapon. The head toppled from the still-standing body and rolled away.
Before Jim, Larry and Syreeta reached the Ring, they could already sense the havoc that had been wreaked. A dreadful aura of death hung over the place, and they found themselves tripping over the bodies of the Egyptian guards that lay scattered around, some hacked to pieces.
Through the mist, they could make out the dim outline of the Moloch, with its arms hanging down and its blackened hands scraping the scorched soil. Puffs of steam spluttered out of the pit to merge with the mist.
The captive group of women and children had simply looked on in bewilderment as the battle raged before their eyes. Now they seemed paralysed and lost, unable to comprehend what was happening.
Jim, ahead of Larry and Syreeta, ran into the Ring towards the Moloch. Rebecca and the boy were standing motionless at its base.
As Syreeta came up and took the boy’s hand, steering him away from the pit, Rebecca fell into Jim’s arms. They didn’t say a word, but stood there, holding each other. Even as he clasped her tightly, Jim could feel her still shaking.
Larry, meanwhile, was peering into the mist, as if looking for somebody. Occasionally, the odd ghostly figure of a warrior appeared, only to be swallowed up again by the fog.
Neferatu sprang from behind the Moloch without warning. Brandishing a dagger above his head, he seemed to be running straight for Rebecca. Larry instantly leapt into action and tried to grab him, but Neferatu effortlessly knocked him aside, sending him floundering to the ground.
Jim, catching sight of Neferatu, instinctively moved in front of Rebecca to protect her.
Neferatu came to a stop and pointed the dagger at Jim’s throat. “Move!” he ordered. Jim looked at him defiantly and shifted slightly to shield Rebecca better.
In a flash, Neferatu lunged towards them. Still protecting Rebecca behind him, Jim swung both of them to one side, so that Neferatu almost fell past them, lurching to a halt.
Neferatu turned and edged back around the pit towards them, his eyes glinting like emeralds. He jabbed the dagger at them, skilfully manoeuvring them both back along the brim of the smouldering pit, until they came up against the gigantic wheel of the Moloch, unable to go any further. Moving closer to them, Neferatu once again raised the dagger, a twisted sneer of triumph on his face.
Only Syreeta saw clearly what happened next. Some sort of ethereal figure was emerging through the mist behind Neferatu, silently closing in on him. The figure, clad in a golden breastplate, was holding a short sword, which it slowly pulled back, ready to strike.
Neferatu, clearly unaware of the approaching figure, still bore an expression on malevolent gloating. His foul expression instantly changed to shock and horror, as he received a sharp blow to the back and saw the bronze blade of a sword appear out of his chest. He screamed in agonised pain as the blade twisted only once and disappeared back through his body.
Neferatu staggered round to see the magnificent figure of Ptolemy Soter standing there, holding a bloodied sword.<
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Turning back, Neferatu looked up at the Moloch. His face betrayed no emotion, as if his mind were already far away. Then his eyes lost their brightness, changing to a dull brown and finally turning to black, like a light being switched off. Slowly, he toppled over into the pit. There was a long, loud hiss and a cloud of steam as he disappeared into the ashes.
Ptolemy Soter looked at Rebecca, a faint smile playing on his face. Smartly bowing his head towards her, he raised his arm in a salute, before striding away to fade into the mist. Moments later they heard the sound of a galloping horse, growing ever fainter, until it was gone.
CHAPTER 85
Like a herald of change, a sudden breeze blew through the Ring of Brodgar, so that the mist swirled and slowly lifted.
As it drifted away, it became clear that the Moloch was no longer there. It had disappeared, vanished into the vaporous air, as if it had never existed. Gone, too, were the red-haired warriors, and gone the countless bodies of dead Egyptian guards.
As the four onlookers looked around the Ring, stunned into silence, Jim instinctively held Rebecca close. Apart from the women and children, the scene was now deserted. Some of the women were running to claim their children, or to comfort those who were still left alone.
Jim slowly shook his head, trying to verify the reality of what he knew he had just witnessed with his own eyes.
“And where is Neferatu now?” he said.
“Gone. Never to return, I hope,” said Rebecca.
Larry nodded in agreement. “He’s lost his power. Redheads have taken over now,” he said.
Syreeta turned to him. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“You’ll see,” said Larry. “Rebecca has her full powers now. She brought Ptolemy Soter back to life. It was Ptolemy, himself, who just saved her.”
“Hang on a minute,” said Syreeta. “What powers? And what do you mean, ‘She brought Ptolemy Soter back to life’?”
Larry smiled. “The man you just saw really was Ptolemy Soter. He is her ancestor. What’s more, he is also the ancestor of Cleopatra. It was he who founded the whole Ptolemaic line of rulers in ancient Egypt. Cleopatra’s father was a Ptolemy, too. What very few people know is that Cleopatra’s granddaughter escaped persecution by fleeing to Scotland and settling here. Rebecca is only the latest of a royal line of redheads. She really is ‘Queen of the Redheads’, and that’s why Neferatu wanted her dead.”
“Are you trying to tell me Rebecca has royal blood?” asked Syreeta.
Rebecca smiled but said nothing, still looking around the Ring.
Larry passed the compass to Syreeta. “Look at this,” he said. “Do you remember what happened before?”
Syreeta held the compass flat in her hand. The needle wavered and then settled. She shook her head. “But it’s not pointing to the north any more.”
“It’s pointing south,” said Jim. “That is just incredible.”
“Check your phone,” Larry said to Syreeta.
She switched it on. “It’s working,” she said.
“Can you get the news,” instructed Larry.
Her fingers flicked over the pad. “World in chaos as poles switch,” she read out aloud.
“Well, would you believe it?” said Larry. “There’s been a full reversal of the North and South Poles. The Earth’s magnetic field has completely switched over.”
Jim looked around Brodgar and over to Stenness. “The poles must have been poised, almost ready to reverse.”
Then he looked shocked. “My God – was it us? Were we responsible for this? Seriously – I wonder if it was us who gave the poles the final push – when we electrified the stream? Heaven forbid! It was just an accident. I never meant to do that. All I wanted to do was create a local magnetic field – to stop the solar radiation from getting through around here.”
“But how does all this affect me?” asked Rebecca.
“Not just you, but all other redheads,” said Larry. “As Jim will tell you, there was a major deviation of the magnetic North Pole around here, 30,000 years ago. It only lasted a short while, but I believe, for that time, it had a profound effect on red-haired people.”
“How do you mean?” asked Syreeta.
“I believe that, just like what happened to Rebecca, they found they could communicate telepathically with their ancestors in another dimension. And then, just like now, when they were in danger, their ancestors appeared to them in bodily form to help them. But you can just imagine how the non-redheads would have reacted towards ‘super’ redheads with their newfound powers. They must have held them in awe. Some tribes would have begun to worship them. For a time, the redheads ruled the non-redheads.”
“Hey, that sounds familiar,” said Jim. “A bit like Easter Island, I suppose.”
“Exactly,” said Larry. “And, like on Easter Island, when the redheads displayed their powers, there would have been a lot of jealousy as well – and even hatred towards them. Now it’s my theory that there exists a folk memory of these distant events which has always affected people’s attitude towards redheads, right up to the present day. And in a way, it’s true. They really are a different breed.”
“You are talking about me,” said Rebecca. “Don’t forget what I’ve been through. You can’t imagine how much all these people here have suffered.”
Jim took her hand and held it tightly.
“But if the North Pole went back to its old position after it changed 30,000 years ago, what happened then?” asked Syreeta. “The redheads must have lost their magic powers again?”
“That’s precisely what happened, and it was at that moment that the others exacted their revenge. They wanted to annihilate the redheads, who had had such power over them. But not all were killed. Many escaped, of course. And yet, they and their descendants were pursued all over the world…”
“Even to Easter Island,” said Jim.
“All sorts of places,” said Larry. “You can find this in mythology everywhere. Of course, eventually there was a lot of interbreeding. So, you could say that the genes for the hidden powers of redheads continued to be passed on – alongside the genes for red hair.”
Syreeta was looking confused. “But who were those gigantic Egyptian-like monsters that appeared?”
“They were the Egyptian gods, Horus and Seth,” said Larry. “They existed, or you could say, still exist, in a further, more distant dimension, even than the ancestors.”
“For crying out loud, I’m still trying to get my head round the idea of ancestors appearing from another dimension,” gasped Syreeta.
“There are ten dimensions, actually, according to the latest theory,” volunteered Jim.
Syreeta ignored him. “But what made Seth and Horus appear just now?”
“It was the disappearance of the magnetic field that enabled them to cross over into our dimension,” said Larry. “Seth is the god of the redheads. He is associated with the moon – as is Stenness. Horus is the god of the non-redheads, and associated with the sun – as is Brodgar. Together, Horus and Neferatu were on a mission to eliminate all redheads – before the poles switched. And that’s exactly what they were trying to do just now. But in the end they failed.”
“The Earth’s magnetic field has returned, and at full power. It’s protecting us from the solar radiation again,” said Jim.
“Yes, but not only that,” said Larry. “It’ll be protecting us from Horus and Neferatu, as well. But they very nearly made it – the poles finally switched only just in time.” He looked over to the Standing Stones of Stenness. “You know, Seth may have won the battle, but he’s not necessarily won the war.”
“You mean this so–called war is still going on?” said Syreeta.
“Well, sometime, the poles are going to switch back again,” replied Larry.
“So, Neferatu could come back again, in theory?”
Larry nodded.
“Tell me Larry, how do you know about all this?” Syreeta asked.
“He has
a vested interest,” cut in Jim. “He’s a bit of a closet redhead himself.”
Larry and Rebecca exchanged glances and smiled with just a hint of self-satisfaction.
CHAPTER 86
Syreeta was startled when her phone rang. “Syreeta? Charles here. Where the hell are you? I asked you to get back here! There’s a lot going on…”
Syreeta held the phone away from her ear while Charles ranted on.
“Syreeta – are you there?” he asked, after a pause.
“Yes – I’m still here, Charles. Listen, I think I’m on to something here you might be interested in…”
Rebecca, still holding Jim tight, looked over to Syreeta, smiled and then caught sight again of the boy who had faced death with her. He was standing by himself, alone and forlorn in the centre of the Ring. She squeezed Jim’s hand before hurrying away towards the boy. But before she could reach him, she saw that there was another woman also running towards the boy, arms outstretched, who swept him up into her arms, hugging him tightly. Rebecca watched as the mother turned, looked around anxiously and ran from the scene, clutching the boy’s hand.
Elsewhere, there were several groups of tearful children, still terror-struck, being comforted by mothers and friends. As Jim walked over to her, Rebecca noticed a small girl all on her own. She crouched and asked the girl her name.
“Shona,” the girl whispered.
Larry, watching Rebecca with the little girl, then caught sight of a bedraggled, middle-aged man, who came staggering through the entrance to the Ring, as if badly injured. His jacket, jeans and shirt were all ripped to shreds.
It had taken all Sandy’s physical and mental strength to get to Brodgar from the garden shed where he had sheltered, until the birds had finally given up their pursuit. He had seen the white van slewed on to the grass verge, and had prayed there might be somebody around who could help him. Hearing only a quiet murmur of human voices from the Ring, and totally bewildered by the apparent peace of the scene after the commotion of the night before, he had cautiously crept up the hillside. It was with overwhelming relief that, just as he collapsed to the ground, he saw Larry hurrying towards him.