The Dark Age

by Traci Harding

  Tory woke at dawn the next day. She left Maelgwn in bed, still sleeping. A year in the future would be a well earned holiday from royal life for the King, time out from the chaos to do what he pleased for a change.

  Tory wandered down to the kitchen, still half asleep.

  ‘I want one,’ Brian whinged, when he saw her master’s attire, displaying the Dragon on the back.

  She hadn’t even heard him enter. ‘No problem. I have friends in high places.’ Tory gulped down some juice.

  Brian watched her; she’d changed somehow, but not on the outside. Although she looked healthier and happier than he’d ever seen her, no matter how she tried to act the rough and tumble, outspoken rebel she’d been before she left, his sister had acquired a certain quiet wisdom. ‘So you’re really a queen, hey?’

  ‘Yeah. And you’re really a king. Let’s train.’ Tory brushed off his admiration, she wanted to forget all those airs and graces.

  ‘I was just asking.’ Brian heard the annoyance in her voice.

  ‘Brian, I don’t mean to be blunt, but I really need to forget all that for a while and just be me, Tory Alexander. One gets so tired of being adored all the time.’ She held her hand to her head in a dramatic pose.

  ‘I’m sure.’ Brian pushed her out the door.

  When Maelgwn stirred to find that Tory was already up, he wandered downstairs to the back garden where he beheld a most idyllic scene. In harmony with the misty countryside, streaked by early morning sunshine, Tory and Brian practised kata. They appeared perfectly in tune with each other and all around them.

  He sat down and watched, realising how alike Tory and her brother truly were: the way they moved, how they spoke and appeared. Brian’s hair, half as long and just as fair as his sister’s, was pulled tightly off his face into a ponytail that hung down his back, as Tory’s did. It was strange having this older, sharper version of Calin around. It was also a little offputting to have to share so much of Tory’s attentions with him. The pair had scarce been out of each other’s sight since he and Tory arrived.

  ‘Hey bro.’ Brian startled him out of a daze. ‘You on holiday or something?’ He beckoned Maelgwn to join them.

  As Maelgwn wandered over, Tory announced with excitement, ‘Thou shalt have to get used to taking orders from Calin for a change. Brian has agreed to take over thy training for a while, and mine.’

  Maelgwn was pleased, well aware of Brian’s skill and status. ‘Awesome, dude!’ the King said and gave him a high-five.

  Tory rolled her eyes melodramatically. ‘How quickly they learn.’

  ‘You bet, babe.’ Brian appeared pleased with himself, assuring his brother-in-law, ‘Thou art going to reach Dan grade by the time I get through with thee.’

  Brian was making a good living out of teaching his skills in Britain and had many promising students. The martial arts had been a part of British culture and heritage since the Dark Ages, akin to the Asian cultures of Tory’s past reality. This was one of those mysterious coincidences that had the modern historians puzzled; how had these skills developed concurrently in two different civilisations that supposedly didn’t come into contact with one another until a much later date?

  Tory began to wonder if other time travellers had been the cause of similar mysteries that had puzzled her as a student. Local folklore told of a great War Goddess who brought the fighting skills to Britain from the Otherworld. The fact that Tory had come from the future must have been overlooked, misinterpreted, or purposefully never recorded, and so another misconception had occurred.

  Who could say if the similarities in language, ritual and beliefs of vastly removed tribes in her past reality hadn’t been caused by others like herself? Still, as Taliesin had learnt his craft from the Atlanteans, she supposed that the credit for the similarities did ultimately fall to them. Without their insight and skill her quest through time and space, whatever that truly was, would never have been possible. Perhaps the gods of Ancient Greek and Roman mythology were still sitting back in Atlantis, or Olympus, moulding future history. If so, then the like of Taliesin, Maelgwn and herself were just pawns in a game that the gods were constantly striving to complete.

  It took the King all of a week to settle into twentieth-century life.

  Maelgwn had no fear of the technology around him, as he had come into contact with most of it before through Taliesin. He was even surprised a few times by electrical items that didn’t have all the functions he expected, as some of Taliesin’s appliances were even more advanced. Modern inventions that he hadn’t seen before, like the different forms of transport, he had been told about. Still, he didn’t much like all the noise they made or how they polluted the air, and he had certainly lost all enthusiasm for learning to drive. Aunt Rose had a couple of horses which had belonged to her husband, so Maelgwn happily took charge of grooming and exercising them, and he rode to most places. He loved staying at the farm and was happy not to venture far from it as everything he desired of the modern world was right there. Brian and Renford had built a large shed for a gymnasium, where Brian held his classes. Maelgwn trained with the rest of Brian’s students, and had additional lessons after hours when his brother-in-law could give him extra attention. All the great literature the King could possibly desire was to be found in Renford’s library, and Maelgwn liked to help Rose and Renford out around the house in return for their hospitality.

  Tory and Brian took Maelgwn on a day trip to see the sights of London, which was not at all as the King expected. He explained he’d never actually visited the city, as it was in Mercia — Saxon country — though he had fought quite near there once or twice. The museum fascinated him most of all. After spending the morning there, the three of them wandered around the city for hours. Some things Maelgwn found inspiring, some wondrous, and other so-called achievements he considered just plain sad. By the end of the day, the noise and the pollution were beginning to take their toll. So the three of them decided to escape reality for a while and took solace in the cinema watching the latest Spielberg flick, which Maelgwn absolutely adored.

  After this little adventure, however, the King was none too keen to leave his tranquil nook in the country; the various noises of the city made his head ache as they put all his senses on overload. From a young age, Maelgwn had been trained to hunt and track, and thus his ears and mind were constantly alerted to every little sound. He liked the quaint country towns though, and was becoming something of a regular at the local pub, where he, Brian and Tory often went to play pool.

  For these reasons, Tory wasn’t surprised when Maelgwn declined a trip to Gwynedd. Brian was driving their father to Mon to return the parchment, offer his professional analysis, and collect his fee. Maelgwn explained that he was happy to remember his home as he knew it, and Renford agreed with his reasoning. The professor had seen a photo of the valley as it had existed in Maelgwn’s time and felt it would certainly break the King’s heart to see Llyn Cerrig Bach in its present state of upheaval.

  In a sweet gesture, Aunt Rose decided to go along for the weekend trip. So Tory and Maelgwn had some time alone together to celebrate their first wedding anniversary.

  22

  DISSOLUTION

  Renford had spoken to the archaeologist who was in charge of the dig at Llyn Cerrig Bach, Professor Miles Thurlow, and had obtained permission to inspect the pieces they’d uncovered at the site, none of which dated beyond 60 AD. This was why the parchment had been such a curious find; apart from the fact that it hadn’t disintegrated over the centuries, it dated to a much later period around 500 AD, Maelgwn’s time. This was one of the reasons that Maelgwn’s little anecdote regarding Myrddin had made such an impact on Renford. The mysterious disappearance of his daughter had prompted the professor to take an interest in the sacred sites of Britain that had been used by his ancestors to some unknown end. This kind of phantasmic research was completely against his professional ethics, and so Renford had kept his study of the sites and the cosmology behind them
to himself. Originally he’d sought only to find a possible explanation for Tory’s disappearance.

  After her hire car was found abandoned on the roadside, police had questioned the locals who all claimed to have seen a great light emanating from the King’s Men stones the same night Tory had vanished there. As Renford was well aware that Myrddin had been one of the greatest curators of the sacred mysteries, he had to wonder if this was the real reason he’d taken to the study of the megaliths far more ardently than expected.

  Surely not, Renford assured himself, as they sped along the road. Still, he was interested to see what the dig at Llyn Cerrig Bach had turned up.

  After dropping Aunt Rose at the hotel, Brian drove Renford to the site. Brian followed his father to the office, not the slightest bit interested in what was going on. He had also seen the photo of the valley as it had once been, and considered the upheaval around him a crying shame.

  Renford introduced himself to the woman at reception, advising her of his appointment to see Professor Thurlow. Brian eyed her over, and thought about trying to chat her up, until he noticed her wedding ring.

  She was most apologetic, explaining that the professor had been called away early this morning and she didn’t know how long he might be detained. He had, however, left the professor’s payment with her and arranged for his partner, Professor Paradis, to show Renford around.

  When Professor Paradis met them at the office, Brian was pleased to see that he was accompanied by the most delectable looking woman he’d ever seen. ‘I should hang out with you more often,’ he said quietly to his father, as they watched them approach. She was introduced to them as Professor Paradis’ daughter, Naomi, and she wasn’t wearing a wedding band. As they were escorted to the main dig, Brian couldn’t take his eyes off her; he was racking his brain to think of where he’d seen this woman before.

  When Naomi politely excused herself to get back to her work, Brian left his father to converse with Professor Paradis and followed her. ‘So, what do you do here?’

  ‘I doubt very much that my work would be of any interest to you.’ She sounded less accommodating now, but her French accent was driving him out of his mind.

  ‘To the contrary,’ Brian assured her, before delivering an intelligent insight into the valley’s history in fluent Brythanic.

  She tipped her head to him to acknowledge her mistake. ‘Perhaps it might after all. Follow me.’

  To the ends of the earth, Brian thought, admiring her form.

  ‘So, Mr Alexander, what kind of work do you do?’

  ‘Well, Ms Paradis.’ He ever so nicely made a mockery of her formal tone. ‘I’m a triple black belt. I teach Tae-kwon-do and kick boxing in Oxfordshire.’

  She was impressed but tried very hard not to show it. ‘Funny, I’ve always wanted to learn, but, of course, I never get the time.’ Naomi led him into the restoration room, where the finds were being cleaned and housed. Here he saw one of the goddess statues from the temple and a wave of recognition rushed over him. This was accompanied by a clear memory of ripping away vines to reveal the shapely carving.

  As Brian was so obviously stunned by the find, Naomi commented, ‘She is beautiful, isn’t she?’

  ‘Aye, I’ve seen her before,’ he uttered, as he viewed the statue more closely.

  ‘That is impossible I’m afraid, as she only came out of the ground a few days ago. She hasn’t even been photographed yet.’

  The vision hung with Brian like a screen between himself and reality. ‘There are more of them.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I remember them, from when I was young, I think.’

  Naomi began to laugh, convinced that he was pulling her leg. ‘Very funny.’

  ‘I’m serious,’ Brian insisted. ‘I have a memory like an elephant and I distinctly remember this statue and eight or nine others just like her in a circle.’

  She stopped laughing when she saw that he was sincere. ‘But my father estimates that this statue has been lost underground for at least five hundred years.’

  ‘He must be mistaken. I’m sure I remember her.’

  Naomi shook her head slowly. ‘Father is never wrong. But should we find any others, I will be sure and let you know.’ With this she moved to the desk to resume her work.

  Renford had been left to study the site alone for a time as his guide had been called to the phone. He wandered away from the action to have a puff on his pipe without offending anyone. Finding a large rock in the shade of a couple of huge trees, he sat down and began to chug away on his pipe.

  He hadn’t been settled but a couple of minutes when he heard someone whispering close by. The professor looked around, but seeing no one, decided he was imagining things. A few moments later the whispering began again, only louder. The professor felt cold shivers pass over him as he recalled his daughter’s comment regarding the ghosts in her photograph of Llyn Cerrig Bach. He strained his ears a moment to hear if he could make out what the whispers were saying, but they stopped again, and he heard naught but the sounds of the work site. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. You don’t even believe in ghosts,’ he mumbled to himself.

  With his words, the utterances intensified. They were garbled at first, but gradually grew louder until a word was finally audible. Myrddin.

  Professor Paradis was alarmed to see his esteemed colleague running as fast as he was able back towards him. ‘What is it, Professor? Is there something wrong?’

  ‘No,’ Renford assured him, as white as a sheet. ‘I was just startled by a snake. I’ll be fine.’

  When Renford had calmed down, he viewed the pieces in the restoration room. Then he collected Brian and thanked Professor Paradis and his daughter for their time.

  ‘I left my number on your desk,’ Brian told Naomi. ‘So when you find those other statues, you can let me know.’

  Professor Paradis looked at his daughter curiously as their guests departed. ‘What other statues?’

  ‘God knows.’ She shrugged, heading back to the site. ‘Pay him no mind, father. I shan’t.’

  Renford said nothing of his experience to anyone, and had no intention of mentioning it until Brian came to see him that night.

  ‘I want to talk to you about something, got a minute?’ Brian said as he stuck his head in his father’s room.

  ‘Of course. What is it?’

  Brian was a little backward in coming forward. ‘I had a kind of … mystic experience today.’

  Renford chuckled. ‘Brian, I assure you, an erection is not a mystical experience and no, I do not have Professor Paradis’ home phone number.’ His father went back to the book he was reading.

  ‘Dad, I’m not talking about that. It’s that statue they dug up.’

  ‘What about it?’ Renford was still only half with him.

  ‘Have you ever taken me there before? Llyn Cerrig Bach I mean, when I was a child perhaps?’

  ‘No. You stayed in Australia with your mother most of the time. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Then it must have something to do with that Brockwell guy,’ Brian thought out loud. ‘Thanks Dad.’ He moved to leave.

  ‘Hold on a second. Would you mind telling me what this is all about?’

  ‘Don’t worry. You don’t believe in all that shit, anyway.’

  ‘It would seem I’m up to my neck in “that shit”, as you so eloquently put it,’ Renford confessed, peering over his reading glasses.

  ‘Why, did something weird happen to you at the site today?’

  ‘You might say that. But first, tell me about your statue, I’m most interested.’ Renford propped himself up in his bed to pour a whisky.

  Brian grabbed himself a shot glass and sat down. ‘Well, I remember seeing that statue when it was still standing, alongside others like it. But Naomi told me that they’ve been buried for hundreds of years. How would you explain that?’

  His father just shook his head.

  ‘I figure it must have something to do with King Brockwell.
I mean, he was there, right? So what if I am remembering one of my memories from when I was him?’ Brian cringed in retrospect. ‘Shit, I’m starting to sound like Aunt Rose.’ He drank the shot his father had poured for him. ‘So, what say you, Professor? Do you think there might be something in all this? Or is the mystery that surrounds one’s life on earth only here to mess with your head, until you die or go insane trying to figure it out?’

  Renford shrugged and answered, ‘I’m not the one to ask, son. I think my mental faculties have finally taken their leave.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Dad, what would make you say that?’

  ‘I believe I ran into a couple of Tory’s ghosts today, and it would seem Maelgwn isn’t the only one who calls me by the name of Myrddin.’

  ‘That’s right, Maelgwn called you that the day we met. What do you make of it?’

  ‘After today, well?’ Renford gave a shrug. ‘But you must swear not to mention this to anyone. Especially not your Aunt Rose, I’d never hear the end of it.’

  ‘Sure, but what are you going to do?’

  Renford was bemused. ‘What else can I do, but find out as much as I can about Myrddin and see if anything gels, as with you and the statue.’

  The fact that his son had had a psychic experience scared Renford; first Rose, then Tory, and now Brian. His wife had certainly never shown any sign of clairvoyance, and as his sister had perceived Tory’s situation after her disappearance it was clear that these abilities unquestionably ran in his side of the family.

  On Sunday morning, Maelgwn rose, leaving Tory to snooze for a change. They’d been making the most of having the place to themselves, and so hadn’t had much sleep.

  We could just stay here, settle down, have a family. If we never return to all the responsibility, war and politics of my time, would history really miss us? Maelgwn smiled at his dream. Unfortunately he knew he was predestined to return home to become this great king everyone kept predicting he’d be, and Taliesin would surely hunt them down before long if they failed to join him again in the past.