"Do they not teach you anything at school these days?" Valcris said. "The only thing a river troll is terrified of is a goat. It's like elephants and mice, spiders and bees, normal people and taxmen; they cannot abide them."
Lyca managed to get the goat over to the group, where it immediately made a bee-line for Tom. Initially, Tom was a little wary of the animal. As a townie, he had never been this close to a goat before and only knew of their reputation for eating clothes and charging at people. But, as the goat nuzzled his shoulder, he scratched it behind the ear, which it seemed to like, and thanked him by trying to lick his cheek.
"Well, I suppose it's worth a try, assuming there is a troll guarding the bridge," Garren said. "As you two have the benefit of speed and wolf-like reactions, it would be best if you went first,"
"Oh thanks, friend," said Lyca taking the rope from Tom. "Send the dispensable ones in first."
Dan and Lyca walked nervously towards the bridge. The goat, at first reluctant to leave his new friend, butted Lyca up the backside before trotting happily beside her, satisfied he had shown her who was in control of the leash.
The three of them stepped on to the bridge and stopped, Lyca and Dan bracing themselves against whatever was about to attack. The foul odour was so bad now that even Dan could smell it. Whatever it was, it was close, but neither sight nor sound gave away its nature.
They took a few more steps and stopped again. Nothing. The watchers gathered on the bank, not too close to the bridge just in case, shifting from foot to foot with anxiety, ready to shout a warning the second they saw a movement. A few more paces and they were almost a quarter of the way across—still nothing.
"A troll would have got behind them by now," Valcris said, "to cut off their retreat to the bank and force them further on to the bridge."
Dan thought he heard a sound behind him and spun around. There was nothing there; it must have just been the bridge creaking under their weight. It did it again, this time he felt it. Lyca gasped, she was looking towards the far side of the river. About two-thirds of the way across a hand the size of a shovel appeared from under the bridge. It was attached to an arm as thick as a lamppost. It grabbed the side of the bridge and heaved an enormous head and shoulder up to look around, investigating the cause of its disturbance. As its thick-set eyes adjusted to the light, Lyca seized Dan by the arm.
"Dan," she whispered. "We're going to need a bigger goat."
Dan turned around just as the wire-haired head turned in their direction, and the black beady eyes focused on them. There was a short delay before the information from the eyeballs reached the creature's tiny brain, was decoded, considered, options presented and a course of action decided upon, by which time the fairy had transformed and zoomed off like a firework, while Lyca and the braying goat were neck and neck as they legged it off the bridge and back to the watching companions. Lyca pulled up when she reached them, but the goat, who had had enough excitement for one day, pulled free of Lyca's grip and darted off into the woods.
The creature was now wading through the river towards them. Its massive arms outstretched towards the awe-struck group, snarling through its big uneven brown teeth. It must have been twenty feet tall and was naked from the waist up. Fortunately, the water hid the rest of it and the company on the bank had no intention of waiting around to find out if its entire outfit matched as in unison they turned and fled down the river bank until the lumbering monster was out of sight.
"That was no river troll," said Dan, flying alongside them. "That was a mountain troll. What the hell is a mountain troll doing under a bridge?"
"I don't know, maybe it's the river troll's day off," panted Lyca sarcastically.
As they came to a stop, Tom asked, "Are you sure it's not still following us?"
"It's alright," Garren said. "Mountain trolls are incredibly slow and stupid. Quite the opposite of river trolls. Once we were out of sight, it would have forgotten what it was doing and gone back to the bridge. But now at least we know we are not going to get to the other side of the river that way."
"Can't we use magic on it if it's not as quick as the other kind?" Tom asked.
"No," Garren answered. "It is so thick-skinned that all but the most powerful hexes will just bounce off. Magical creature see. Has a sort of built-in immunity to spells, enchantments and most types of fungus. Would have been wiped out centuries ago otherwise."
Valcris seated himself on a rock and drew his long cloak around himself. Dan flew up to the treetops to make sure the troll was not possessed of the intellectual capacity to follow them. But, sure enough, it had given up the chase when it could no longer see its prey and returned, slightly baffled, to its previous position under the bridge, where it was happily occupied in trying to prise a rusty bolt out of a support post with the blunt end of a fish.
"What now?" asked a frustrated Thomas.
"Go back home and have a quart of ale," called Dan from his treetop. Everyone ignored him.
"We'll have to find another way to cross the river," said Garren. "They are not going to let us in through the front door."
"Why not?" Lyca said. "What if we disguise ourselves as Guardians and go in with the others? They are coming and going on their patrols all the time."
"Balfour is not stupid. He has put his own guards on the gates to check the Guardians in and out, and they use passwords which are regularly changed," Garren explained. "I tried to get in once. Only just escaped."
"How we getting to the other side then?" Lyca asked.
"After sunset, me and Val could fly across," Dan said, coming down to join them.
"That's not going to help us unless you are going to carry us across," Lyca said.
Tom looked at the vampire, hopefully.
"Sorry, I could not keep you in the air for such a distance," Val said.
"How about a boat?" Maya said shyly.
"Where are we supposed to get a boat from?" Dan snapped.
"There's one over there," said Maya pointing to the far bank.
Everyone stared at the far side of the river and sure enough, there was a rowing boat nestled into the bank under an overhanging willow.
"Let's see if we can get it," said Garren. Standing on the very edge of the bank, he held up his staff and immediately the gemstone began to emit its brilliant glow as he performed a summoning spell. The boat started to swing its bow towards them and drifted a little way from the bank before it stopped, caught on something at the stern. "It's tied up."
"I'll go and see if I can untie it," Dan volunteered and zoomed off.
His bright glow could be seen arriving on the far side of the bank where the boat was tied up, before disappearing behind the willow. Seconds later, he reappeared, heading back to the waiting group. "It's no good," he said. "It's chained to a thick wooden post. I can't shift it."
"That's that then," said Garren. "We'll have to keep going and find another way."
"No," said Tom angrily. "We need that boat." He stared across the river, and a bright yellow glow shone from inside his jacket. The companions heard the sound of splintering wood and looked across the river to see the little boat with its stern low in the water, straining against its chain. The splintering sound came from the bank where the old rotting post it was attached to was breaking. Suddenly it gave and the boat, sped across the water, complete with chain and what was left of the post. In moments the boat thudded into the muddy bank.
Everyone stared at Tom in shocked silence before Garren said, "Did you mean to do that?"
"Er... I just wanted the boat to be on this side," Tom said, equally surprised. "I guess I was sort of angry that we keep coming up against brick walls. I want to get back home."
"You got some power there, Sunshine," said Lyca, patting him on the shoulder. She caught hold of the boat and jumped in. "Seems solid enough," she said.
"Nice work," said Val to Tom, following Lyca into the boat.
Maya went next, shyly looking at Tom, then quickly looking
away when he smiled back. Tom and Garren followed, the cleric casting a spell to set the boat in motion as there were no oars to use. Because the little boat was so cramped with them all in it, Dan flew by the side.
"Now this is the way to cross a river," said Lyca, reclining in the stern with her outstretched arms on the weathered wood. "No hassle, no trolls, just a nice gentle ride across the water... Whoa!"
Lyca suddenly found herself on the soggy floor of the boat with legs and arms waving about in the attempt to regain purchase on the world. Everyone else was in a similar predicament. The boat had received a blow to its side, almost capsizing it.
"What was that?" Tom cried, trying to get his foot out of Val's cloak.
"We collided with something, probably a tree trunk," Garren said. "Its turned us right around. Hold tight I'll get us back on course."
"I can't see a tree trunk," shouted Dan from above.
Garren turned the boat around and resumed course for the far bank. "Everyone keep a lookout for more debris in the water."
The nervous passengers scoured the rippling water as it flowed past them for any sign of floating perils. Each one of them had a nasty suspicion that their close shave was due to something a little more sinister than a floating log. It was not long before their fears were confirmed as once again the little vessel reeled from another almighty blow, this time accompanied by the sound of cracking wood. It was immediately followed by a second, even stronger impact that shattered the boat's side, knocking the helpless inhabitants backwards. There was a loud splash as one of them hit the water.
The boat was out of control, carried by the now strong current. The water in front of them erupted as if an underwater fountain had been turned on. The plume of water did not fall back into the torrent, but instead, the spray swirled around in the air like a gigantic swarm of mosquitoes, eventually sorting themselves out in the shape of a face. It was the face of an angry woman with long hair that floated behind her as if she was underwater.
"Leave my river, or your bones will rot forever at the bottom," boomed its gurgling voice.
A giant watery hand pushed the broken boat towards the bank from where it came.
Tom saw the water spirit only briefly as it pushed the boat to the edge of the river. The last impact had thrown Maya overboard, and she was floundering in the water, unable to swim. As she went under, Tom hooked his foot under the seat and leant over the side. Plunging his hand into the icy river, he managed to find the shoulder of Maya's cloak and hauled her above the water. She coughed and spluttered but managed to hold on to his arm. They heard the command, and Tom caught sight of the spirit over his shoulder as he fought to keep Maya's head above the water, a task made more difficult by the listing of the little vessel as it was pushed to the bank. Tom would have gone overboard himself had it not been for Val grabbing his belt.
The remains of the boat thudded into the bank, and at last, Maya was able to stand shakily in the shallow water. Still holding on to Tom's arm, she pulled herself towards the boat. Tom held out his free hand to help her climb in. As she took it, she felt a blinding pain in her eyes which lasted for a split second. The river, the boat and the other travellers faded into a bright light.
Then she was in a strange place.
There were grass and trees and yellow lights on poles, but too bright to be oil lamps. It was night. There were pairs of shining white lights attached to noisy metal carts which zoomed up and down of their own accord in front of rows of large buildings with lights burning in the windows.
Tom was also there. They were standing holding hands and looking into each other's eyes. They drew closer, and their lips touched.
Instinctively, Maya snatched her hand away from Tom, nearly falling back into the water. Again Valcris came to the rescue and hauled her into the boat. Unable to speak, she collapsed on to her knees and stared horrified at Tom. Barely aware of the others fussing and asking if she was alright, the realisation of what had just happened hit her. She had had her first real vision. She had seen the future. Her future. And Tom's.
Chapter 10
The Ferryman
Maya came out from behind the bush where she had gone to change into the spare set of clothes which fortunately she carried in her pack. It was more a case of good preparation than foresight that inspired her to pack them, but she was very glad she had. She was freezing cold and shivering uncontrollably as she went over to the large fire around which the others were recovering from their ordeal. Lyca went to help her to a seat, and Garren handed her a hot mug of spiced mead.
The wine did the trick, and in a few minutes, the shivers subsided, but the heavy feeling of anxiety in her chest could not be so easily quelled. She was consumed with the vision she had just had; her first-ever vision. Not only was the subject disturbing, in that she and this strange boy would end up in a relationship in another world, but the fact that she had had a vision at all. Her mother was the seer, and she only inherited the vaguest shadow of her power. Usually, she could sense the feelings of others and in some cases use those feelings, generally the most basic and intense feelings of anger, fear, lust, love or malevolence, to predict their immediate actions. But this was new, and it frightened her.
“Are you OK?” asked Tom, refilling her mug from the pan of steaming wine.
She jumped, startled back into the present by his kind voice. “Yes,” she said quietly. “Thank you for saving me. I never learned to swim.”
“No problem,” Tom said and smiled at her. Until now he had been too preoccupied with his own problems to notice how pretty she was, and as her wet hair fell about her face, her sky blue eyes met his for a second, and he felt as if an invisible force had slammed into his chest as his heart skipped several beats. Quickly they both looked away and were equally glad of the distraction when Valcris spoke.
“It seems that our plans for crossing the river have been somewhat dashed. What is your intention now Garren?” he asked.
“Go back home, I hope,” Dan cut in.
“Shut up,” said Lyca and Tom together.
“We all know that going home is out of the question,” Garren said glaring at Dan. “My plan to get to the tunnels is no longer viable, so all I can suggest now is that we carry on towards the monastery and take the back way in.”
“There’s a back way in?” Dan said. “Why didn’t you mention that before instead of trying to get us eaten by a troll and half-drowned by old soggy puss there?”
“Because it is not an easy route,” Garren explained. “It means climbing the eastern face of the mountain, working our way round to the south and coming down over the roofs of the monastery. People have been killed trying to break in that way.”
“Dangerous then, eh?” said Dan. “S’pose we could give it a try.”
“How are we going to get past the guards outside the castle gates?” Lyca asked.
“There should only be two, and they will be on the other side of the drawbridge,” Garren pointed out.
“Ah, I think I might be able to help you there,” said Valcris. “It will be sunset in a little over an hour. I will be able to slip across and... er... make a suggestion or two to the guards.”
“Is that a euphemism for biting them?” asked Tom.
“Not at all,” replied the vampire. “I have no intention of hurting them at all. Leave everything to me.”
“Maya, do you have anything to add?” asked Garren. They all looked at the girl.
“No,” she answered shyly. “But when we get closer to the entrance I will be able to sense how many guards there are.”
“Great,” said Lyca. “Sounds like a plan.”
“As soon as we are all recovered, we can get going,” Garren said.
“I’m fine now,” said Maya. “Let me finish my wine, and I will be able to go on.”
The company of travellers continued their journey, following the river, but taking care not to stray too far from the cover of the woods. It was unavoidable to be out in the open
, but at least with Dan, pressured into flying in front of them, as an early warning system, if anyone came along they would be able to dive into the cover of the foliage.
“Ninety-eight... Ninety-nine... Three hundred.... One....two...”
“Val, you’re doing it again,” called Lyca from the front.
“Sorry, I did not realise I was doing it aloud,” Val apologised.
“What you counting?” Tom asked casually.
“Paces from that last dead hawthorn tree we passed,” Val answered.
“Why?”
Val sighed, “I have to count the number of paces until we come to another of the same variety of tree,” he said.
“Why?” repeated Tom.
“It will keep us from harm,” said Val, becoming increasingly agitated.
“Why?”
“It will stop the spirit of the dead tree from coming back, taking our souls while we sleep, and using them to bargain with the keeper of the afterlife to return it to the realm of the living,” Val answered in annoyance.
“What! Serious?” Tom exclaimed.
“No, of course not,” Val said.
“I don’t get it.”
“It is an irrational fear. Something I know can’t happen, but I’m compelled to do it so as not to tempt fate,” Val explained.
“No, still don’t get it,” Tom said.
“Valcris has OCD. All vampires do,” said Garren, coming to Val’s rescue.
“What’s OCD?”
“Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder,” Garren explained. “Our healers think that it is something to do with the blood-only diet that depletes the brain of certain chemicals causing the irrational behaviour.”
“Either that or dying sends you loopy,” Lyca giggled.
“When you have all finished,” Val said.
“What does it make you do?” Tom asked, trying to keep his voice down so that the others would not embarrass Valcris anymore.
“It means we have fears which we are perfectly aware are ridiculous, but nevertheless compel us to do things which, in our minds, keep us safe. We have no choice.”
The Sorcerer's Tome Page 12