The Tirnano - Book 1 'FINN'

by Peter Emmerson

  ~

  The young priests then prostrated themselves before Ra and the other gods.

  "SO BE IT!" said Ra, and the gods began to fade as one, as they did, so did the blue light, until once more the only illumination came from high above them. The young priests sat again on the floor, and once more began to hum gently.

  'We may now leave,' clicked Lord Holbie.

  ~

  "Oh wow," said Winn, when they were once again mounted and on their way back to the Clan caves, the first words she had spoken since before the gods of Egypt had made their appearance. "If I never see anything again in the rest of my life, that will be sufficient."

  "That is for sure my dear heart, I too would never have believed such a happening could come to pass, had it not been mine own eyes that beheld it."

  ~

  It was back at the caves that Winn sought out Shasa, 'I bring you greetings from Finn,' she signed.

  'From Finn, but he was lost on his trial,' the diminutive warrior replied.

  'No, he passed through the veil between your world and mine. Shortly will he be returning, with him will come many of our warriors to battle the Watchers and their children.'

  'My brother Pavel, has told us that we move out soon, our destination is the middle plains, the lands of the Croninn.'

  'That is true, my very good friend is one of their warriors, his name is Ny-mo.'

  'I too have a Croninn friend, he is collecting chai right now, but he will be accompanying us as one of my brother's troopers.'

  The two girls, roughly the same age, could easily become fast friends, Winn wondered how the feisty little warrior would take to life in dear old Oklahoma, not too well I'd hazard a guess, my past life would be so restricting for her, wow, and it’ll be a tad restricting for me too, now.

  ~

  A mental call from Mira broke into her thoughts, taking her leave from Shasa, she quickly made her way back to the cave mouth. The council members were talking to Mira as she approached. The Purple Rider spun round to her. "Time to go, the M'ntar wish to return to their caves, I guess we should go too."

  Taking their leave of the little people, the two M'ntar riders then clasped hands and with a pop of inrushing air, transported themselves back to their cave, arriving moments before their two giant companions.

  ~

  “Good grief, where have they gone?” Tom said as they returned from the house, Jeanne was a few steps behind him.

  Almost as he spoke, they felt a puff of air, and the two girls appeared close to Paul, whose mouth once more formed an almost perfect O.

  “What happened, where did you go?” Tom’s voice had raised almost an octave,

  “To the other side,” said Winn, I have been to meet with my beloved.” She ran forward to embrace her uncle.

  “What! -- I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Tom extracting himself from her arms.

  “I’ll tell you all about it very soon Uncle Tom, so much has happened.”

  “What do you mean, so much has happened, you only disappeared for a moment, and where did you get those clothes?”

  “To you it might have been but a moment Master Thomas, but for us it has been six months,” interjected Mira.

  Winn was dressed in an outfit similar to Mira’s even down to wearing a sword strapped behind her back.

  “Where did you go?” asked Paul.

  “With Mira, and to meet my beloved, Lord Dominie the Red.”

  Both Tom and Jeanne looked closely at Winn, “Your hair is longer, you have a deep tan, and you are standing up much straighter, almost as though you have somehow been given an injection of adulthood,--- I believe her Tom, this is not the same Winn we were talking to just a minute ago, that’s for sure.”

  Tom stood staring at his niece, taking in the differences Jeanne had noted. Paul had not moved, his mouth still wide open, his eyes staring in shock as he realised that all his senses were confirming everything that had been said.

  “Can we now to see the Brosynans, I have words for them from their Clan.” It was Mira, bringing some semblance of normality back to the situation.

  46.

  ANOTHER ATTACK

  Aberdeenshire.

  June 2011

  Jeanne backed the Range Rover from the garage. Mira, flanked by Winn and Paul, watched with eyes wide the vehicle’s manoeuvres.

  “How many horses are required to pull this wagon?” she asked once it had come to a halt, circling to see if it was being pushed from inside.

  “Somewhere around 503, if Jeanne is to be believed,” put in Tom.

  “Why can we not believe her, is she prone to untruth?” Mira glanced up, puzzled. “Howsoever, a caravan of that many beasts would truly be cumbersome if not ridiculous. So I believe you to be the one lacking in truth - eh, Master Tom?”

  Ouch, thought Tom, we’re gonna hafta watch how we talk around her. I guess they didn’t do much wise-cracking back in the 13th century.

  “It’s a mechanical vehicle, lady, my mum’s pride and joy,” Paul spoke up reassuringly. “No big deal. It’s fun, actually.”

  “Just wait and see,” echoed Winn. Taking Mira’s hand, she led her to the rear door and helped buckle her into the seat behind Jeanne. Paul took the centre with Winn behind Tom. “Hold on tight.”

  Jeanne took off in her usual fashion; there was a loud yelp from behind her. Mira, warrior and companion of a dragon, sat with her hands across her mouth, her eyes huge with fear.

  “Witchcraft, it is witchcraft,” was all she could say.

  “Oh c’mon,” Tom teased. “A girl who can ride dragons and transport herself back and forth through time is afraid of a simple modern machine? I don’t believe it.”

  “At least dragons are flesh and blood creatures, not beast-less chariots of Satan,” quipped Mira, but the jesting insinuation on her courage shored her up. The determination to show no fear, as well as the calm of her fellow passengers - especially Winn - soothed her jangled nerves.

  If young Wintergreen can survive all of the changes I have brought upon her, and absorb all of the lessons I have taught, surely I, in turn, can endure the stranger facets of her world, Mira scolded herself.

  A few minutes passed however before she fully relaxed, Winn and Paul spending the first half-hour of the journey explaining, as well as they could, the minutiae of the internal combustion engine and the modern motor vehicle, aided in her acceptance of this beast-less chariot, albeit she comprehended little of their chatter.

  “I think you’ve successfully confused the young lady, because you’ve completely baffled me,” put in Tom with a chuckle.

  “Put the radio on please, Tom,” said Paul...

  “Tom? - Tom? --- Have you no respect?” Winn hissed at the boy.

  “But, but… that’s what he told me to call him,” Paul spluttered.

  “Huh, I bet.”

  “It is sugar,” said Tom, “the Brits don’t go in for loads of formality like we do.”

  “Well, maybe they should.”

  Jeanne switched on the radio from the control on the steering wheel.

  It was the news.

  Horror of horrors it was a report on another giant's appearance, this time from an international football match in Russia. The report was sketchy, incomplete. Jeanne pulled into a lay-by to listen.

  She killed the radio and thumbed the phone button, the sat-nav screen lit, and using a little scroll wheel on the dash she selected the commander’s link.

  “Yes.”

  “Just heard a snip on the news Guv, what’s ado?”

  “Another of those blasted giants, about an hour ago, same type of attack as before, over two hundred abducted, another three hundred or so dead. I tell you girl, this is going to put paid to mass gatherings if we get another one, God forbid.” The commander’s voice flowed from the wrap round speakers. Mira, aghast at hearing a disembodied voice held her tongue, her eyes though spoke volumes.

  “You any closer to being ready to hav
e a go at sortin’ this out yet?”

  “Almost Guv, we have a wonderful ally who has just joined us, we’re on our way to the Turner at the mo, give you a full report when we get there.”

  “Get something moving fast, I’ve had the PM on the dog already, wanting to know what we are doing. As far as he’s concerned whatever you need you can have, in fact he offered the rest of the SAS regiment.”

  “Don’t think we’ll need that many, training’s almost done, I’ll buzz you in about half an hour.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Jeanne closed the connection at her end and put the audio system back on, this time she chose a digital music track.

  Paul went back to giving Mira a 'Tour Guide special' for the remainder of the trip, explaining everything he could. Mira had been intrigued when they reached the point where the road followed the River Dee. “This is indeed a place of wondrous beauty,” she said quietly.

  “Yeah, but you ain’t seen nothing till you clocked the Oologah Lake from the top of Coody’s Bluff. Isn’t that right Uncle Tom?”

  “How did you ever get up there?”

  “That would be telling,” she chuckled.

  Before too long they pulled into the car park, Jeanne chose a spot as close to the main entrance as she could, photographs of two beautiful, buckskin clad, sword wielding girls, was not what she wanted appearing on tabloid front pages. Telephoto lenses were the least of her problems but the interest they could generate was not.

  47.

  JEANNE’S AGONY

  Craigdendarroch Farm

  July 2011

  The days may have dragged by for Paul, who was anxious to be off on what he considered a great adventure. Winn had joined with Mira and proved to be an able assistant to the warrior woman.

  However, they flew by for the adults, aware of how much there was to do and how brief the time to accomplish it.

  “Maybe youth isn’t wasted on the young,” Jeanne grumbled to herself, “if they can treat a matter like the balance of the world’s future, as a lark. Maybe we adults should learn to lighten up some too.”

  Problem with that was, kids didn’t know all the behind-the-scenes work required to get such a diverse group as theirs prepped and on the same page. There had never been such a task force, in the history of the world - there had never been such a task! The abject diversity of the peoples comprising their task force only added to the epic weight of its job.

  First there were the Boggarts, both Brosynan and Croninn, who had assured Jeanne, Case, Tom and Mira that more of their kind could be rounded up to assist once they passed to their world. Then there were the modern day Special Forces from both sides of the ocean, Yanks and Brits, who were having to style themselves in not only Mira’s formerly outdated methods of warfare, but in the Brosynan and Cronin’s, as well. Last was a female warrior from medieval times. Not only that, but one who had accompanied a very eager Winn to meet her own great Red beast.

  Jeanne gritted her teeth when she thought of that. She didn’t mind taking Mira with them, in fact was happy to have the young warrior along. The girl’s clear headed, steady confidence was a valuable asset to their squadron, but nothing was as much of an asset as her knowledge of warfare, battle tactics, and camp life. The suggestions she offered were quietly spoken, but pointed and direct. And always very, very first-rate.

  Mira knew how to assume command without seeming to assume command: Jeanne would’ve sworn Case would never surrender control of his American special forces group to anyone, but somehow Mira had taken over the instructing of Case, his company, and the British Squadron of SAS troops without seeming to try. Nobody resented her. Even the Boggarts, now that they too had moved to the farm, looked up to her, while virtually worshipping the visits of her purple dragon. Lusha would frequently appear, much to Mira's delight, but she did so in her diminutive form (no larger than a German Shepherd.) Mira was the type of person one felt you could depend upon in any sort of crisis, she was not the problem.

  Or, she was, but not in that way.

  Mira wasn’t the problem but could be considered the root of the problem. Before her advent, both Wintergreen and Paul had initially been unhappily resigned to staying behind in the relative safety of earth and contemporary time zones. Now that Mira and Winn were accompanying the group there was no reasoning with him, no forbidding him either. Especially since Mira brought her magic, in which Winn, shockingly, was now heavily involved.

  Winn's own companion the mighty Red, bigger though less powerful magically than Mira's purple beloved, added weight to Paul’s arguments. If Winn was the Rider of the Red, just as Mira was the Purple Rider, there was no way he was going to be left behind. Mira herself swore it was so, that Winn was every bit as vital to their fight as she, herself. Once Paul had heard that...

  Therein lay the rub. Once Paul had heard that, he wouldn’t be denied. Jeanne had always prided herself in her discipline over the lad, but he was currently displaying a stubborn wilfulness not to be denied. “Just like his father,” Jeanne had griped to Tom, who laughed boisterously at her complaint.

  “That side of him doesn’t make me think of his old man,” the Yank teased, risking her wrath. He barely avoided the cup of ice she tossed at him.

  Well, maybe Tom was right, Jeanne admitted secretly, hurrying out towards the training fields for a final scrutiny of soldiers, arms, and equipment. Maybe she was a wee bit stubborn, but she didn’t like taking her son along on such a dangerous mission. In all fairness, she knew Tom similarly disliked conceding to Mira’s wishes and allowing his adopted niece to do the same, even though he knew she had already visited their destination. After all, they were just kids.

  Furthermore, despite what Winn and Paul had pleaded, age had nothing to do with it. In spite of her youth, Mira was no child. Kids just grew up faster back in her day. No question about that. Winn and Paul were from another time, another world, practically. No way could they be compared to Mira. Tom could feel his argument fizzling out in the light of Winn’s new deportment and strength of character.

  Unfortunately, when the argument had been raised in Mira’s presence, and Jeanne was pretty sure Paul had picked that fight deliberately, the Purple Rider had, as usual, taken control of the quarrel, ending it with her customary calm reasoning. “He will mature,” she said, looking directly at Jeanne, “much faster than you will believe. Let him come. It will do him much good.

  “Moreover,” she’d added, “should this mission fail, the world in which you have left him will be no safer than that to which we travel. Would you leave him in a time and place soon to be utterly demolished by the Watchers without you to safeguard him, or would you rather take him where you and I and Master Thomas and the best warriors from three races may defend him?”

  There was no arguing with that. Although she loathed herself, Jeanne had been forced to comply. Paul was coming, much to his delight, much to her secret sorrow. Mira was unconcerned: Mira, to all outward appearances, was always unconcerned. With her, you’d think their chances of winning were as equally certain as the sun rising each day. Jeanne, like the others in their task force, knew better, but somehow Mira made them believe. Was it part of her magic as the Purple Rider?