Waves in the Wind

by Wade McMahan

  I forced a grin while holding back a shudder. “Have no fear. I have a plan to overcome Erc’s cunning and monstrous beasts.”

  I didn’t mention the many self-doubts whispering in my ear. One thing I knew, for in truth it was the only plan I had. I would face Erc wearing my emerald robe, Nuada’s Staff firmly in my hand. My fate would rest in the hands of the gods.

  Chapter 34

  Erc’s Lair

  Little sleep had visited me during the night and I rose to face a cold, gray dawn. Goban arrived and we shared hot cider and a cold crust, though little conversation.

  Later, I pulled my robe close against a bitter wind and strode across the village center towards Brendan’s cottage. Was the chill that ran down my spine a product of the wind or dread lingering within the background of my thoughts? I glanced towards the mountain holding Erc and his crimson beasts.

  “May the gods protect me,” I muttered and hurried along.

  Arriving at the cottage, I shoved the door open to find Brendan robed and standing in the center of the room. Stooped, both hands clasping his staff, the priest swayed as his pale face turned towards me.

  A smile twisted his face as his sunken eyes found mine. “So, Druid. I’m sorry I was unable to provide the welcome planned for your return.”

  Brother Tobias stood near, his face taut, and he gave me a quick glance. “I warned the father against rising, but… Father Brendan can sometimes be a stubborn man.”

  “Sometimes?” I snorted. “Father Brendan has the temperament of an obstinate horse and it appears its strength as well.”

  Brendan grumbled under his breath as he lowered himself into a chair. He attempted a genuine smile as he looked up at me, though trembling hands exposed his weakness. “I’m told I owe you my life.” He shrugged, pursing his lips. “Until now, I never realized how difficult it would be to find words to thank a man for that, but I humbly thank you.”

  I nodded. “When first I saw you, there seemed little hope. Your gratitude rightly belongs to the man who taught me how to treat wolfsbane poisoning.”

  “Hmm. You cannot escape my appreciation. Brother Tobias told me it was you who discovered the poison and took charge of my care. Thank you, Ossian.”

  “Of course.” I smiled, pointing to his bed. “Now then. You shouldn’t be stirring about. Please lie down.”

  “In a moment.” He waved a dismissive hand. “First, we must discuss your decision to confront Erc and…” His eyebrows knitted as his hands dropped into his lap. “Could your friend’s report be true? Erc is sided by demonic red beasts? Don’t you think it more likely the sight of seeing men falling somehow affected the man’s mind? After all, men under duress—”

  “No.” My shoulders slumped. “Torcán is an experienced warrior. If he says the beasts exist, you can rely upon it.”

  “Impossible,” Brendan muttered. “What has Erc done? What manner of evil could create such creatures?”

  He reached to a box on the table before him and turned with an offering. “Take this. If the evil you face is as monstrous as we fear, it will aid you.”

  I reached forward to accept his gift, but jerked my hand away. He offered a crucifix.

  “Thank you for your offer, but…” Brendan swayed in his chair. “Brother Tobias, help me walk the father to his bed.”

  Though the affects of the poison waned, the priest remained a sick man and he staggered between us until we laid him on his bed. Little could be done for him, so I turned to leave, but in so doing, felt something beneath my foot. The crucifix. It must have fallen from Brendan’s hand. I picked it up and handed it towards the monk.

  “No, Brother.” Tobias stepped away, his hands behind his back. “My apologies, Wise One; habit you know.” He shook his head and began again. “Please, take it. Evil awaits you on the mountain.”

  He took a step forward, laying a hand on my arm, pleading in his eyes. “I prayed for you last night. I prayed to God Himself that He would watch over you.” He shook my arm as his tremulous smile grew. “I must tell you for it is a marvelous though terrible thing. God answered me. For the first time in my life He spoke to me. He told me you will face evil beyond imagining, something you must not attempt to face alone.”

  I was unsure of this monk and the words of his God, if such they were. “Yes, I know. Erc and his creatures are—”

  “Not just them, Ossian, bad as they are.” His eyes grew wide. “God revealed there is something more, some thing, some horrible, evil thing, though what it is He did not say. Call upon Him and—”

  “I rely upon Eire’s mighty gods. They will stand beside me as they have always stood beside me. They are enough. Besides, why do you care about the fate of a Druid?”

  “I wish you no harm, Ossian.”

  I tried to pull away, but his grip on my arm tightened. “Make no mistake. Now, you must hear me because the thing you will face, whatever it is, threatens us all.”

  What was this evil thing, if such existed? The Morrigan’s words returned. “A very odd, evil presence has arrived here…” Was there a connection to Tobias’ warning?

  The monk’s words built upon my dread as he shook his head. “Don’t you see? You will need God’s help more than you or I or,” he pointed to Brendan who lay quiet, “even the good father can hope to understand. God will help you.” He was shaking my arm again. “Why would you reject His help? Take the crucifix, and call upon Him, I beg you.”

  The trinket brought back scenes highlighted by flames, and I thought to toss it away alongside the hated memories. Yet, the monk’s pleading was well intended, and worthy of respect. The crucifix dropped into the pocket of my robe along with the thought to dispose of it later.

  I strode to the door and glanced back over my shoulder. “Your god has a name?”

  He nodded. “Jehovah.”

  * * *

  “I’m still sayin’ we should go with ye,” Goban grumbled as he sat on my hovel’s dirt floor, his hands busy with a leather cord. “Erc be a’waitin’ and ye’ll stand no chance against him and his cats.”

  My forced confidence did not reflect my true thoughts. “I’ve told you I have a plan to confront him.”

  Torcán snorted. “A lot of good it’ll do to plan against those fiends.” He laid out an armload of leather armor—helmet, greaves, wrist bracers, a mantle and gorget. “Wear these under your robe. A villager offered ’em up for you. He’s tall; not so much as you, but they should fit you well enough.”

  “It’s a kind offer, but you’ve seen Erc’s cats. What benefit will leather armor serve against them?”

  “Yes, I’ve seen his cats, though I wish I hadn’t.” He shook his finger at my nose. “The armor will serve you better wearin’ it than leavin’ it here, I say.”

  “It’ll make ye all the tougher to chew, anyway.” Goban grunted, rose and dropped the leather cord over my head. He had woven a protective shield knot, the edges of its four corners a never-ending path meant to confuse my enemies. “It’s a small gift, I know, but some claim there is power in such things.”

  “It is a mighty gift.” My fingers traced the edges of the knot as I nodded. “I thank you for it.”

  “Ossian, lad, don’t be doin’ this foolish thing. Stay here—”

  He trembled beneath the hand I laid on his shoulder. “No, my dear friend, though I do not take pleasure in climbing the mountain. Neither do I welcome the thought of Erc and his beasts coming here to this village or any other. Don’t you see? I must submit to his terms by going alone. If I fail, you and Torcán will be needed to stand beside Brendan and the villagers. Regardless of his promise, it’s possible the man will come here.”

  In the end, I agreed to wear the mantle, bracers and greaves beneath my robe, my sword belted to my waist. Despite the precautions, Nuada’s Staff and the gods themselves would determine my fate.

  * * *

  My horse picked its way up the narrow mountain trail. Torcán had given instructions on the paths to follow and I hel
d to them by starlight and my horse’s senses. There was never doubt of my destination—a red glow at the head of a high valley served as a beacon to lead me on.

  Chanting prayers to the night’s silence, I paused on the mountainside and gazed ahead. What was the source of Erc’s radiant signal? Likely a bonfire, but—

  Clank.

  My hand grasped my sword hilt as I wheeled in the saddle, alert to all the sounds of the night. I was not alone. What was back there? Hearing nothing further, I continued on, occasionally casting a backwards glance.

  Boulders blocked the trail at the mouth of the valley. Just ahead, the flickering red glow rising into the darkness cast black shadows across the steep mountainside. I dismounted, and tied my horse to a bush.

  My memory flashed back to the first time I laid eyes on Erc. Even then his face burned with hatred of me. This night’s meeting had been long in coming, an inevitable event ordained by the gods. The circumstances were not such as I would have chosen, but there was no help for it.

  The silver snake pommel rested in its pouch at my waist, and I placed it atop the Staff. After a final deep breath, wary steps carried me through the oppressive darkness, winding among boulders and leading to a level clearing.

  Erc waited there, a robed silhouette standing before an open pit, the source of the red beacon that lit the night sky above us. The stench of molten metal filled the air, like the odor of hot iron on Goban’s forge.

  Beside the former monk crouched a great, crimson beast. Stories were told of lions that lived on the far side of the world. It was said they sported shaggy manes around their necks, and such was the case with Erc’s creature. Yet, the face and eyes were not altogether feline. They were cat-like, yes, but contorted, almost human—almost, for in that moment it snarled, revealing long, gleaming fangs.

  My eyes swept the boulder-strewn clearing. Torcán reported two such cats. Caution was the word as I strode forward to stand before Erc.

  He stood arms folded over his chest, the red glow illuminating his hooded face. “So, Druid, your arrogance led you here as I knew it would. Yes, you believe yourself invincible, and have proven the fool I knew you to be.”

  “And before me I find the loathsome scum I expected. My mouth reeks with your foul presence.” I spat on the ground. “You chose—”

  The red glow revealed curled lips as he snarled, “Your insults—”

  “You chose,” I shouted him down, “to abandon the ways of men, to cower here on this mountain like a wolf at bay, to stand as a beast among beasts. What manner of evil have you conjured here?”

  “Conjured?” He rubbed his hands together and laughed. “You are right. For years I thought it was God’s words whispering in my ear, but no.” Eagerness filled his voice and his chest swelled. “I now know the truth—my only truth, for I have heard and met the great Lord Sonneillon.”

  The name meant nothing to me. I waited, knowing in his fervor, and because in fact he was a vain, dull-witted man, Erc would reveal all.

  “You don’t recognize his name, do you?” He cackled. “No, only those of your trifling pagan spirits. But you know him, as all men know him, for he exists within us all. You know him, Druid, for he devours souls like the striped caterpillar consumes leaves. Sonneillon, mighty Lord of Hatred, and,” he pointed into the fiery pit, “he dwells there.”

  The glowing chasm and crimson cat crouching at Erc’s side provided ample evidence that his words were true. In his madness, the monk had called forth a demon.

  The depths of his depravity sickened me. “You side a demon against your fellow men?”

  “My fellow men? My—fellow—men?” Erc sneered. “I ask you. When have my fellow men stood beside me? For siding the good,” he spat the word, “Brendan, I earned a beating for my trouble.”

  “Wait.” He gestured to the beast beside him. “I was wrong.” The crimson cat bared its fangs as he continued. “Permit me to introduce one who chose to stand with me: Brother Jonas. Behold the power of Sonneillon.”

  Jonas? He was one of the monks who poisoned Brendan. The other was Mark, and one cat had yet to appear. My heart sank, as the monk continued.

  “You understand now, don’t you, Druid? It was Sonneillon who suggested poisoning Brendan, and my friends Jonas and Mark who killed him.”

  From the beginning I held little hope of overcoming Erc and his creatures. If the demon could transform men into beasts, there remained no chance at all.

  He was a vile man, and bitterness coated my tongue. “You would do such a thing to your brother monks who claim you as their friend? You would stand aside while your demon altered them into beasts?”

  “Oh, they were quite willing. They understood they could better serve my purposes in their new forms.” Erc grinned, rubbing his palms together. “They are magnificent, don’t you think?”

  “They are hideous; serving little purpose, the profane creations of a twisted mind.”

  “They serve little purpose? I remind you that as men they slew Brendan, and as cats, the puny villagers who came here to take me.”

  “Then you follow a simple-minded demon. Brendan lives.”

  Erc’s finger jabbed towards me. “You lie.”

  “It’s true.” I shrugged. “Wolfsbane proves of little consequence in the presence of Druids. Even a novice could have cured Brendan.” This last was not true, for Brendan should have died. Yet, a seed of doubt might erode Erc’s confidence.

  “If Brendan lives,” he began to laugh, “I will return to the village, and then—” he bent over laughing. “Then Jonas and Mark shall devour him.”

  Madness consumed him; his chilling, maniacal laughter filled the night sky. More I wished to know, but he continued. “I have invited my Lord to join me tonight. He will arrive from the depths to find me rejoicing over your death.”

  “May the Lordly Ones destroy you all.”

  The Staff trembled a warning in my hand as Erc mocked, “Your gods are weak and I’ve grown tired of you. Prepare to die, Druid.”

  “Mark,” he called, and stones rattled behind me.

  Spinning about I muttered a prayer to the Morrigan, asking she receive me in death and hasten my journey to Tír na nÓg. The cat, Mark, loomed above me atop a boulder.

  The beast was quick. It leaped and knocked me sprawling before I could bring the Staff to bear. Sharp claws slashed the front of my robe, failing to penetrate the leather mantle, but the Staff went spinning out of my hand and beyond reach.

  The creature was past me in an instant, and I drew my sword. Sweat poured from my brow as I jumped to my feet. Why hadn’t the cat killed me while I was down?

  “He’s playing with you,” Erc laughed in response to my unspoken question.

  Rumbling in its chest the great beast paced back and forth ten paces before me. My mouth grew parched and I licked my lips, watching its muscles tense.

  “Now, Mark, kill him,” Erc yelled, and the beast sprang forward.

  I held the sword hilt in both hands, shoulder high, but the cat swerved as something swished past my ear, struck the beast’s flank and fell to the ground with a clank—a hammer.

  A glance over my shoulder revealed Goban and Torcán jogging forward. So, it was they who followed me up the mountain.

  “Glory ’o, me boy ’o,” Torcán shouted as he swirled his sword above his head.

  Though they ignored my order to remain in the village, my heart swelled upon realizing that, should death find me this night, I would fall alongside stalwart men. Who could hope for more?

  The cat’s attention held on my friends, who separated, both men taunting it. The beast’s head turned first to one, then the other, which offered me a moment to retrieve the fallen Staff.

  I held the Staff waist-high, and the remembered lightning surged from the snake pommel. Mark, the cat, screamed as the force raked its flank. With a mighty leap, it landed upon a tall boulder, and spun about with a snarl.

  Torcán shouted, “It’s hurt, but—”

&nbs
p; “Ossian! Behind you,” Goban shrieked

  Turning, I found the other cat, Jonas, streaking towards me. The Staff came to life, lightning snapped and crackled, striking the beast.

  “Look out! Here he comes again,” Torcán shouted behind me.

  “Flank him,” Goban cried.

  I dared not turn around. For a moment, I thought Jonas would continue on as the lightning engulfed him, but the beast tumbled forward and thrashed out its evil existence amid a flaming inferno.

  Goban’s yell spun me about. “No, Torcán, no.”

  Never had I seen such a thing. The warrior sat astride the cat’s pitching back. What was the man thinking?

  How he managed to mount the beast I could not imagine. ’Round and ’round the creature whirled. Torcán’s left hand clung to its mane, while his right swung his slashing sword.

  The creature turned its head, snapping at Torcán’s legs, then fell and rolled, but somehow the warrior clung tight. Dread filled me as the cat dashed behind a boulder, reappeared for an instant while it rounded the glowing pit at a dead run and disappeared into the darkness.

  “After them,” Goban shouted.

  I took a step in pursuit, when behind me came, “Druid!”

  Erc’s challenge stopped me, and I turned to face him.

  Holding forth a dagger, he raged, “You think you’ve defeated me? Meet me with a blade, you bastard, if you dare.”

  The man’s taunt mattered not at all. Torcán’s well-being held my thoughts, but something struck my back and clattered to the ground as I began to turn away—Erc’s thrown dagger. I blessed the armor beneath my robe before fury took me, my hands longing to grasp the monk’s throat.

  Erc backed away to the edge of the pit as I approached him, his claw-like hands flexing at his sides.

  “Come on, Druid,” he hissed.

  There was nothing more to say to the fiend, so I leaped forward, my hands grasping towards his throat.

  Again, his maniacal laughter filled the night as he grabbed my robe and fell backwards over the rim of the pit. My own momentum served as my enemy, for I could not prevent him dragging me over the edge. Far, far below churned a lake of flaming molten metal. Horror clogged my chest as I fell towards my death.