The Tirnano - Book 1 'FINN'

by Peter Emmerson

  Through her dulled senses she became aware of a cacophony of sound emanating from the far side of a large mound, she recognised the noise with an explosion of fury as being the jabbering of the Gargoyles. Mira drew Ulrich and prepared to fight to the death, she stumbled around the mound.

  To her surprise she saw a huge creature crouching on the ground; it was twice the height of Daniel’s war horse even though it was hunkered down. Somehow, Mira knew it was a female dragon. The dragon was slashing left and right with her wide tooth filled jaws at the evil creatures. In turn they were swooping and clawing at her diamond shaped head, aiming for her eyes with their sharp claws. Swooping and flapping at her from behind, trying to find the beautiful golden creature’s blind spot. There were six of the foul beasts worrying at her. The dragon had managed to kill two, their blooded, mangled remains lay on the black soil near her head, but even so, they had succeeded in keeping her grounded. They had caused the mighty creature serious injuries, for Mira could see blood oozing from many wounds.

  They had succeeded in damaging one of the dragon’s eyes, from the momentary glimpse that Mira caught, it looked serious. Blood was flowing down the side of the stricken creature’s head. The flying monsters were now concentrating on her other eye, knowing that if they could blind her they would be able to defeat her all the more easily.

  The dragon was in imminent danger of being overcome, and Mira could see she was weakening. Without a thought for her own safety she decided to intervene; adrenalin surged through her body, building her strength from some deep source. A gush of saliva filled her mouth.

  Mira launched herself with a wild cry at the nearest bat creature, and with a single swipe cut it through from shoulder to hip. Ripping the sword free, she threw herself at another and sliced one of its wings from its back, the creature fell to the ground screaming, scrambling backwards from her on its hooked claws. She took two swift steps and brought her sword down on the top of its head cleaving it in two, its blood and brains splashed over her boots and leggings.

  The other creatures turned their attention on her and roaring in their strange tongue attacked. Mira swung her sword again, slicing another of the vile monsters across its body. The creature screamed as its intestines spilled and it fell writhing to the ground. Its three remaining fellows flew backwards, jabbering angrily as she despatched the gibbering creature with a single stab into its ugly face, the sharp point of her sword piercing its eye, she followed through pushing the blade deep into its head. With a sharp twist, Mira freed her weapon.

  The remaining creatures held their distance, flapping high above her, screeching their fury.

  She snatched the opportunity and ran to the dragon’s side, with a swift movement Mira clambered to her shoulder, and then straddled the sinuous neck taking care to avoid the row of sharp spikes that ran from the middle of her shoulders to the end of her long swishing tail. She shouted; “Up now Mistress!” The huge creature, even though seriously wounded and exhausted, rallied to her call, and with a massive thrust of its powerful rear legs launched them both high into the air. Its wings opened with a loud clap, thrust upwards, then with a powerful downward stroke they surged upwards into the sky.

  The three remaining creatures, incensed at seeing their prize about to escape made one last attempt to fly above the dragon, to force her to the ground. Mira’s sword swinging at them was sufficient to keep them at a distance, allowing the dragon to get into her rhythm. With massive beats of her wings she had soon left the ugly Gargoyles behind.

  Mira sat astride her neck, gripping with her knees and attempting to make herself as light as possible, but as they flew she could feel the dragon’s exhaustion.

  How long the dragon could continue Mira knew not, for she too could feel her own strength slipping away. Her sight began to blur and her limbs to shake. No matter how she tried she couldn’t maintain her grip, she was gasping in the thin, cold air, for they had climbed to a great altitude. In desperation she cried, “Enough Mistress, I can hold no more.” She began to slip towards unconsciousness, and worst of all, to slide from between the driving shoulders.

  As she began to fall, she heard the sound of massive wings pumping furiously behind her; she could hear what sounded like the beating of more than one pair of wings swooping towards her as she slipped into blackness.

  34.

  THE M’NTAR

  A Meeting of Minds

  Mira came to her senses beside a tinkling stream on a wide ledge outside a huge cave entrance. Crawling to the edge of the stream, she plunged her face into the water and began to suck greedily.

  ‘NOT SO FAST, LITTLE ONE. CALM YOURSELF, TAKE IT EASY. TRY LITTLE SIPS TO START WITH, THEN DRINK YOUR FILL.’

  Powerful thoughts filled her head, pounding at her senses.

  Although she should have examined the source of the thoughts, she was too thirsty to bother. Bodily demands long denied came first. With reluctance she did as she was bidden, finding the cold water sweeter than any she had tasted in her life. Finally, her stomach full, she began to feel some semblance of life flowing back into her body.

  Strengthened by the water, if not the hope of extended life it represented, Mira climbed to her feet. Glancing about to determine her whereabouts, her eyes lighted upon the most unlikely of creatures. Startled, she blinked once. She scrubbed her eyes, blinked again rapidly. The apparition did not vanish.

  Forgetting even to clutch her sword - for what use would such a weapon be against this beast? - Mira could do nothing except tremble in abject fear as she watched a giant Red dragon approach.

  The huge creature was easily half the size again of the Gold. It walked with a rolling motion which, if it hadn’t been so frightening, might have been amusing. Overcome by its sheer enormity, Mira almost fled - especially when the creature rose up on its rear legs.

  It-it’s a mountain! was her first astounded thought.

  It wasn’t, not really. Yet the Red was massive. Its front legs were held like arms curling downward, its back legs were like tree trunks, and two huge wings furled along its back. Its long tail, which offered balance to its upright stance, doubled the creature’s length. The bright, black eyes, staring down on her with intelligence and concern, were well over two arms’ stretch above Mira’s head.

  All four limbs ended in immense, lethal sets of claws. That was daunting enough. Its vicious jaws, full of teeth which looked as though they had been created specifically for ripping flesh, tendered no reprieve. The beast’s diamond shaped head was crowned with two long horns.

  An impression formed in Mira’s mind.

  ‘COME, MIRA. WE HAVE FOOD.’

  Food?

  Without stopping to think, Mira found herself following the creature. Am I mad? The invitation might be a siren’s call, luring me to the rocks of destruction, but Mira was too hungry to do anything save heed it.

  Ahead of her, the huge Red walked with a swaying gait, its long tail swishing from side to side. Created to soar the currents and thermals of the sky, it looked ungainly on the ground - rather like a swan waddling about awkwardly on dry land. Yet Mira followed in stupefied amazement as the creature led her deeper into the cave where the gory remains of a mutilated deer spilled across the ground.

  ‘CAN YOU EAT THIS?’

  Half-starved and too hungry to be revolted, she pulled her hip knife from its scabbard and bending, hacked a piece from the deer’s shoulder. “I’ll try, Lord.” Bringing the meat to her mouth she sucked hungrily at the raw flesh. Initially, she gagged at the taste of strong red meat, but her hunger swiftly got the better of her and she took a mouthful of the venison, chewing noisily before swallowing.

  “How old is this kill?” she asked, recognising the slight tang of spoiled flesh.

  ‘SIX DAYS,’ came the reply.

  I suppose the gallopers are better than dying of hunger, she mused, and took another mouthful.

  Her belly churned, roiled, growling in response. Realising just how hungry she was, she cut a
nother strip from the deer, devouring it in a single bite. As she ate, Mira could feel her strength returning, but with it crept in great weariness.

  Sated for the present, and knowing she would not last much longer, Mira inquired, “Where may I rest, Lord?”

  In truth, sleep was the last thing she wanted, for she had many questions. Where am I? What beasts are these? How do they speak in my mind? Do they mean to devour me as they so obviously had partially devoured the deer? But, seeing as how the creatures had offered her no harm thus far, she guessed they did not consider her a possible meal. Besides, I am so very weary.

  ‘OVER HERE, LITTLE ONE.’

  Strange, along with hearing the voices in her head, she deduced a strong mental impression that they refer to themselves as M’ntar.

  Well, she decided, too sleepy to puzzle out either the M’ntar, their plans for her, their peculiar form of communication, or by what witchery these impressions flooded her mind, M’ntar does sound better than dragon, which is what I first feared them to be.

  Again, she followed the Red behemoth without question, only to find the M’ntar had created a human-sized nest for her in the great cave balanced on the ledge above the stream where she had first drunk. To her wonder, and gratitude, Mira found upon sinking into a nest that it was lined with soft skin shed from the breast of a Queen.

  Mother Mary, a body could become accustomed to such comforts, she thought, kicking off her boots and rolling about in the nest like a dog in straw.

  The nest was warmer, more supple and pliable, than any feather mattress in her former master Daniel’s castle. Almost instantly, her eyelids were drifting shut, seduced by the M’ntar luxuries. However, as she blinked a final two or three times against sunlight slanting in through the cave’s yawning orifice, she saw outlined against the oddly coloured sky more of the dragon-creatures. Of differing colours and sizes they were; nevertheless, the giant red appeared their patriarch.

  What manner of world or dreamland have I come to, was her final waking contemplation?

  Then she was asleep, asleep in moments, waking only when her body forced it upon her. Some twenty hours had passed from when she first climbed into the nest. Hunger, thirst, and a desperate need to pass water - along with severe stomach cramps - were more than sufficient to bring her out of her lengthy, deep sleep.

  Escaping behind a nearby copse of trees was the first order of business. There, Mira was forced to endure her body purging itself from both ends. A severely unpleasant experience the girl decided when the fit had passed; leaving her slumped, panting and shaking upon the warm earth. Nonetheless, it did strengthen her spine to respectfully refuse the M’ntar’s subsequent offer of more venison.

  Aged, raw flesh, although a delicacy among the dragon-creatures, had never been one of her favourite meals, and she knew that gorging herself upon it earlier had been the most likely cause of her body’s protestation. Yet when she attempted to explain both her reasoning and the gallopers, she found her new hosts - a herd of whom had gathered round to view the newcomer - indifferent to her plight. Apparently, the M’ntar could not even comprehend the gallopers, for their internal workings were designed to cope with meals of the sort Mira’s had just rejected.

  Exasperated with failed attempts to elucidate, Mira finally, boldly stated, “It is not that I do not appreciate your hospitality, my lords: the truth of the matter is that I cannot eat flesh if it is not fresh. Furthermore, I am accustomed to eating flesh only after it has been cooked. Had I a choice in the matter, rather than raw flesh I would prefer to eat fruit.”

  ‘YOU PREFER FRUIT?’

  In her mind, Mira heard the strong humming of many voices as the dragon-creatures took to murmuring amongst themselves about the oddity of this two-leg who preferred fruit to flesh.

  “Is that so strange?” she finally asked aloud.

  The giant Red, lord of the clan, stared down at her. ‘TO US, YES, IT IS. YET, IF THAT IS TRULY WHAT YOU PREFER, I WILL DESPATCH RUNNERS TO OBTAIN SOME FOR YOU.’

  Singling out two of his fellows, of a different breed, much smaller and leaner than himself not much larger than Daniel’s charger, he commanded, ‘GO YOU TO THE TREES BESIDE THE RING OF WATCHER HILLS, THOSE UPON WHICH TREE-FLESH GROW. FETCH SOME. BRING THEM HITHER FOR MIRA, OUR GUEST.’

  Trees beside the ring of Watcher Hills, those upon which tree-flesh grow?

  Privately, Mira decided that such ambiguous directions would leave her running around in circles. The M’ntar, though, obviously both took and gave directions differently than humans. With an awkward little bobbing of the head, evocative of a waterfowl ducking its head below the surface in search of food, the two orange creatures turned tail and were off, speeding across the ground with all the grace of a gazelle.

  Mira watched, amazed. For as awkward as the mammoth Red appeared on ground, this pair, built for speed were amazingly graceful, and fleet. She watched in further amazement as, their speed at the proper level, the two used the smallish wings on their back to lift themselves effortlessly into the air. Airborne, they circled round the cave a time or two as if testing their wings, gaining altitude, and then were off-shooting into the air like an arrow from a bow, vanishing within seconds into the distant horizon.

  For many moments, Mira was unaware of having sunk to her knees in amazement. Unaware, that is, until a cool breeze and a jagged, growling pain of hunger pierced her belly. Chill from the ground was sinking past the barrier of her leggings, creeping into her knees. A shadow crept over her, causing her to look up.

  It was the Red.

  ‘COME, LITTLE MIRA,’ he said, gesturing with his curved forearm towards the cave. ‘SLEEP, IF YOU CAN, UNTIL YOUR FOOD ARRIVES. YOUR BODY IS YET WEAK. WHILE YOU LOSE YOURSELF IN SLEEP, IT WILL HEAL ITSELF.’

  Since his knee was close and convenient, Mira availed herself of its support while pulling herself to her feet. A rush of dizziness assailed her once she stood, causing her to sway. If not for the hand thrust out helplessly, landing upon the M’ntar, surely she would have fallen. As it was, the beast waited calmly until the dizziness had passed. Unfortunately, as it did pass, a twisted cramping in her guts warned her of what was coming. Once more, Mira was forced to flee for the refuge of the trees. Finished, she scuffed up loose soil with the toe of her boot, using it to cover what she had left behind.

  Hopefully, that will help curb the stench.

  At this point, she was spent, her body having rid itself of far more these past days than had gone into it. Or, at least, so it felt. Barely had she adequate strength to make it back to the cave, and her nest within. There she collapsed, losing herself once more in the oblivion of sleep.

  Either her long hike, or this strange world, or the continuing case of the gallopers served to keep Mira down for the next several days. To the girl, it seemed as if she continually dozed in the soft nest of shed skin somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, coming fully awake only when the gallopers, or thirst and a necessity to drag herself to the stream demanded it. Or, at other intervals, when one of the creatures-usually an agile one, which Mira assumed to be of an allied race to the M’ntar - gently woke her, bidding her partake of the mound of fruit gathered fresh every day and kept beside her bedside. The fruits there were markedly different from anything she had previously partaken of. Their taste was not foul; in fact, some Mira found most delightful. Still, they looked wrong, as if having come from a world where colours and shapes had been turned lopsided. They were strange, compared to fruit with which she was accustomed.

  Nevertheless, Mira was grateful. Why the dragon-creatures went to such special pains to furnish her peculiar diet, she did not know. Nor knew she why they took such pains to keep her alive at all. Was it out of gratitude for her part in fending off the golden Queen’s attackers, or what?

  Her mind too muddled for such serious contemplations for more than minutes at a time, Mira continued to sleep. And as she slept, the young girl dreamt. Oddly enough, her dreams were of violet sunsets, lavender b
looms, plum wine, and amethyst jewels. Each time she touched or partook of these delicacies she received the oddest sensation of being lifted off the ground to soar through wine coloured skies. As if she was flying, as she had once flown on the back of the Golden Queen. Flying, but this time filled with joy. A deep joy, so profound, that it had no other name than; exquisite happiness.

  From such dreams, one would not wish to wake. Mira was no exception. If only real life, she remembered thinking drowsily at one point, could be as pleasant.

  Eventually, the restorative powers of sleep, clean water, and fresh fruit combined to reverse the ravages on Mira’s body. Less than three weeks after her initial meeting with the M’ntar, she was able to stand on her feet and exit the cave for more than a single reason. No warning cramps twisting her gut. Flinging her arms wide, she welcomed the world and the new vitality in her limbs with a satisfying stretch. Letting her head fall back, she drank in the sweet air of morning, allowing its spicy autumn tang to clear her head.