by Clare Wilson
After eating, he returned to the bedroom and borrowed some more of Aneirin’s clothes, even though they were a little too big. He quickly returned to the main room.
‘Well, I’m going to take this boy to the field so he can earn his keep,’ Torean said to Adaira. ‘You stay where you are, Aneirin. When was the last time you had a morning off?’ The boy looked puzzled and somehow disappointed as Tom and Torean left the cottage. Tom had the feeling Aneirin had been desperate to question him about his sudden appearance, but wanted to get him on his own. He also thought the boy was none too pleased at the prospect of Tom getting to spend the day with his grandfather in his place.
They left the cottage and walked for several minutes down a dirt track and into a field. Tom was startled by the fact that although everything had felt so alien to him since this had began, he still recognised all of his surroundings; the trees, the hills, even the fresh scent upon the wind. There was a reassuring familiarity to it all.
Torean was carrying what Tom had assumed to be farming tools wrapped in a large cloth. Tom soon became confused, however, when it appeared the old man had no intention of stopping in the field. Instead, they left the field behind and started into a dense wood. Finally, they stopped in a clearing which had a stream running alongside. ‘Are you going to send me home now?’ Tom asked expectantly.
‘I’m afraid not,’ Torean sighed.
Tom felt his heart sink. ‘Don’t you know how to send me home? I need to get back, my mother and my grandfather…’
‘It’s not that simple,’ Torean interrupted, holding his hand up. ‘As I mentioned last night, the staff chose to summon you. You were sent here for a reason. While I can’t fathom what that is, it’s up to the staff now.’
‘So can you tell me when the staff will send me back?’ Tom begged, becoming desperate and trying his best not to cry.
‘It will all become clearer as we work. For now I can only ask that you trust me.’ Torean said, trying to reassure him.
Tom took a few deep breaths as he tried to take in what the old man said. He managed a nod and then asked, ‘So what do we do now?’
‘We’re going to sort out what you know, and what I can teach you,’ Torean answered. ‘We’ll need to work fast if we’re going to survive.’ Torean rolled out the cloth on the ground revealing Tom’s staff and some farming tools. He passed the staff to Tom.
In the daylight Tom realised you could tell the difference between the two, because Tom’s staff was worn in comparison to the one Torean carried.
‘What did your granda teach you?’ Torean enquired.
‘Well,’ Tom said, ‘he really only told me it’s powerful and that it was entrusted to our family.’
Torean hung his head and took a deep breath. ‘This is going to be harder than I thought. You had best sit down.’
Tom sat down on a boulder and wondered how he had gotten himself into this situation in the first place. Next time you see a mysterious staff glowing next to your bed in the night, don’t touch the blasted thing!
‘Now,’ Torean began, ‘the power of the staff comes from the power of nature itself. As such you are only as strong as your surroundings. The staff was given to our family generations ago, and came from an ancient oak which grew in these parts when the earth was young. The valley surrounding Cairn Holme is an area of great earth power. This means it provides great strength to a staff bearer, but it also attracts darker forces who wish to control such power to their own ends. There are many places throughout the world where the make up of the earth has caused there to be a shift in the normality of nature. It means if you know how, you can use earth power to control your surroundings. In Cairn Holme this comes from the mountains around us. Although, we do not know exactly what it is about the hills that causes this phenomenon. If you were to take this staff to somewhere else in the country it would be nothing more than a carved piece of wood. It is because of our surroundings here it is a means of channelling the powers around us.’
Tom then asked, ‘Do your enemies want to steal the staff?’
‘No,’ Torean answered matter-of-factly. ‘The nature of the staff means it will only work if used by someone from our bloodline. It will not respond in the same way for just anyone.’
‘So it’s my destiny to be here?’ Tom asked, almost to himself. He was remembering his grandfather’s words about how his fate was to remain in Cairn Holme. I wonder why my dad left?
‘Yes’ said Torean solemnly. ‘We are wardens in effect. I will show you an example of what the staff is capable of.’ Torean then turned to face the water, raised the staff and said in a low voice: ‘Cuairteag.’ Tom felt a sudden breeze rising among the trees. The water began to stir unusually and then began to spiral. Within moments the water had risen several feet in the air and was now in a perfect whirlpool suspended in mid air. Torean lowered the staff and the water fell instantly. ‘Now,’ Torean said, ‘I want you to try to focus the power.’ He picked up a pebble and put it in front of Tom. ‘I want you to try to move this stone. The word you need to use is amas. It is a word which can summon items towards you. You will need to focus yourself as you say it. Close your eyes and listen to the wind, to the water, to the trees. I am going to go and work in the field for an hour and I will return to see if you’ve made any progress.’ Without another word Torean turned and walked away.
Tom watched him go and felt a great sense of fear wash over him. Could all of this really be happening?
For a time Tom sat looking at the stone and listening to the wind in the trees. A sense of panic suddenly took over, he felt completely overwhelmed. It was at that point he remembered it was his birthday. He should have been fishing with his grandfather; instead he was sitting in a clearing trying to work out how to move a pebble. Unable to hold it back any longer, a hot salty tear suddenly rolled down his cheek. After a minute or two he took a deep breath and thought: Right, pull yourself together. Thirteen today, you can’t cry. You’re a MacKay. What would your granda say? So he closed his eyes and listened to the trees and the wind. He knew this was pointless unless he could control his breathing. Trying to focus on the power of nature surrounding him and the pebble, he opened his eyes raised the staff and said, ‘Amas.’ Momentarily he felt the wind around him rise, although the pebble did not move. So, he let his mind clear and he tried again.
After several failed attempts that left Tom feeling rather drained and despondent, Torean appeared in the clearing. ‘Well lad, how are you getting on there?’ he mused.
‘That can’t have been an hour!’ Tom exclaimed feeling extremely disappointed at his lack of progress.
‘Aye boy, just over in fact,’ he said, motioning his hand to the sky. ‘So come on, show me.’
I really hope he doesn’t shout at me, Tom thought to himself. He closed his eyes, focused his thoughts and tried to concentrate on the pebble. He opened his eyes and said, ‘Amas.’ Again, as before the winds rose. This time he noticed they were stronger than they previously had been. For a moment he thought he saw the pebble shake, but it did not move.
At this Torean moved forward. ‘Not bad, boy,’ he said. ‘You’re better than I was when I started my training.’ Putting an arm around him he continued, ‘For now we will go and work in the field before lunch. I want you to think of all that you have learned. We will return this afternoon and try again. Unfortunately, we cannot afford to waste any time. If we are to be successful we must work quickly.’
‘Can you tell me of the evil we face?’ Tom asked, still feeling he didn’t fully understand what was expected of him.
‘As we work in the field I shall tell you. Come.’ Torean turned and Tom followed him from the clearing. The sun was bursting through the trees as Tom assisted Torean working with the crops.
After they had gotten into a rhythm, Tom decided it was safe to question Torean further. ‘When did this evil show itself in Cairn Holme?’ he asked.
‘It started around a month ago,’ Torean replied, ‘when a
new woman arrived at the big house. Apparently she is the Laird’s niece, but I sense ill in her. I believe she has started recruiting others in the community to her cause. Through my searching with the staff I have felt the darkness steadily growing since her arrival. I can sense she has also felt me, and this has been proven by the fact that our family has had several visits from the local sheriff when no others have. She knows I am powerful, and that I am a threat. I believe the Sheriff is one of the people she is using in order to achieve her goals without revealing herself directly. If my calculations are correct, we have until the next full moon before she moves.’ Torean could see Tom looked confused by this statement. ‘That’s roughly two weeks, boy,’ he said, in a tone which suggested he was extremely worried if the boy didn’t even know the cycles of the moon.
‘Two weeks!’ Tom exclaimed.
‘It’s less than two weeks actually,’ Torean said, unsure whether this fact would help calm the boy.
‘I can barely move a stone!’ Tom now felt he was in a state of complete panic.
‘Look, boy,’ Torean said, holding up his hand to silence Tom. ‘You are more promising than most; it took me six months to gather the wind. We must make the best of what we have. We will work on this every morning and afternoon and I’m sure we will be able to do enough to get through this. I’ll obviously have to concentrate your training on what we will need rather than the usual course.’
‘How long does it usually take?’ Tom asked, although he was not sure he really wanted to know the answer.
‘Well,’ Torean said, scratching the whiskers on his chin. ‘A couple of years… but don’t worry, you seem unusually gifted. Your youth may be an advantage; she won’t expect a child to be a threat.’ His tone suggested he knew this was unlikely to make Tom feel any better.
The thought that Tom was going to have to learn the lore of the staff in just under a fortnight terrified him. ‘Two years in two weeks! I won’t be any threat at all!’
Torean smiled kindly, ‘Don’t worry, my boy. Come.’ He motioned for Tom to follow him from the field to a place where there were large stones they could sit down upon.
After a light lunch, they worked on for an hour or so and then went back to the clearing. On the way there Tom asked Torean some more questions. ‘Could they not attack now? Why will they wait to move with the moon?’ he asked.
‘The new moon is a time of power,’ Torean replied. ‘It signifies a time when the earth power here in Cairn Holme is at its height.’
‘I can’t believe how little I know,’ Tom said, despondently. ‘Does your family know what you do with your staff?’
‘No, boy,’ he said, looking around them as though he expected someone to be listening among the trees. ‘And I’d rather keep it that way for now. It may not always be possible, but I’d like to protect them as much as I can.’
The pair then walked on in silence until they reached the clearing. Tom thought over how he was going to be able to learn everything expected of him and keep it a secret from Torean’s family.
When they set back to work in the clearing Tom tried his best to focus, although he was secretly terrified at the prospect of having to learn so much so quickly. His thoughts often drifted to his grandfather. Tom knew he would have known exactly what to do in this situation. He would have been much better equipped to help Torean in his quest. Did the staff know it was getting me? Or did it think it was getting him? ‘Will my family be looking for me right now?’ Tom asked.
Torean looked at him kindly and smiled, ‘Don’t worry, lad, the staff always has a way of returning you exactly where it took you from. They won’t even know you’ve been gone.’
Tom at least felt comforted by this thought. He had worried that his mother would be frantic trying to figure out where he was. ‘Have you ever been summoned from your home by the staff?’ he then asked.
Torean leaned on his staff looking grave. ‘Once, laddie, but it was a long time ago. I was taken from my time into, well, I don’t know when.’
‘What do you mean you don’t know when?’ Tom couldn’t help but interject at this point.
‘Well boy,’ Torean mused, ‘have you asked yet what year you’re in?’
Tom thought about it. ‘Well, I suppose not. What year am I in?’ he asked.
‘I was always told that it's better not to know,’ Torean said seriously. ‘From the way you speak and dress, I would guess you have been drawn into the past. When I was taken the MacKay who called me advised me not to ask. He said it would wreak havoc with my judgement.’
‘Why?’ Tom asked, surprised. He thought to himself, Surely part of the adventure would be to learn about a time other than your own?
‘I believe I was in the future,’ Torean replied. ‘He probably knew that if I were to become consumed with the time I was in, I would lose focus on what I was there to do. And, as I was brought up, I respected my elders and did not persue it. Although thinking about it now, I suppose I was technically the elder,’ he said musingly. ‘The point is, do not worry about when you are, you are in Cairn Holme. It is where your destiny will cause you to stay all your life. You are simply playing your role. We are people who have to belong to a place rather than a time. In fact, it is foretold that there will at one time be a great battle when we will all have to fight together. If that is so, all the MacKays across the generations will meet. It would be quite a sight.’
With that Tom resigned himself to the fact that he had little choice. He was in this predicament and if he wanted to get home he would have to focus all his energy on learning the lore of the staff. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but wonder about the prophecy Torean had mentioned. Like in one of his books, he wondered about this foretold last battle. When it came, would he fight at his father's side?
* * *
In a dim, lamp-lit room Lady Anstruther was sitting at a lavish dressing table combing her long blonde hair.
A knock came at the door and a servant came slowly into the room. The young girl had dark brown hair tied back tightly into a bun, and large green eyes. Her appearance gave the impression she was a very young woman who was dressed older than her years. ‘Dinner will be ready in half an hour, m’lady. Would you like any help getting ready?’ she asked, hardly raising her large eyes from the floor.
‘No, Lizzy,’ replied Naithara wearily. ‘I shall be fine. I will be down shortly.’
As the door closed Naithara stood up swiftly, bustled over to a bureau in the corner of her room and opened the lid to reveal its contents. Within the bureau were several candles, an ancient leather-bound book and some strangely shaped black stones. She smiled to herself. Since her first ceremony her power had grown immensely. She no-longer needed the book of power which had led her to Eiric, and was now able to summon him focusing her own strength. He had become part of her. She wanted to speak with him; she had missed his presence. He was a drug for her, his absence was like a gnawing hungry ache in her heart. In some ways it was the closest thing to love the strange girl had ever experienced. Laying the candles and stones out on the floor in an intricate circular pattern, she closed her eyes. ‘Nathura Gathera Eiric,’ she said, in a hissing voice which didn’t sound altogether human. Suddenly a wind rose and swirled around the room making the curtains billow as though someone had thrown open a window to the humid night air. As the breeze died down a heavy dark gaseous cloud seemed to fill the space. It was the type of atmosphere one could almost taste. It hung in the air, slightly sweet, but had a musty quality like food-stuff which has gone bad.
‘Why do you summon me?’ a deep disembodied voice asked.
‘Forgive me, my Lord, but I wished to seek guidance on how best I may ensure that our plans are fruitful,’ she quaked.
The voice, now raised, spoke angrily. ‘You summon me for this!’ it boomed. ‘Do not forget who has given you your power, Naithara, I could remove it as easily as it came.’
Naithara cowered like a small animal, motioning to the air that she wanted to
keep the noise of their meeting as low as possible. ‘Again, forgive me, Lord,’ she said quietly. ‘I simply wish to know that I am doing everything possible to ensure your rise is successful. And,’ she continued hesitantly, ‘when we are apart I miss your presence.’
At this the voice seemed to soften slightly. ‘Very well,’ it said. ‘You know that if we are successful you will not need to feel such an absence. The main obstacle we still face is the old man. If I am to return to my physical form we will need to remove him quickly. I sense that he has summoned more power to him in his fight against us. If we are to move with the moon we will need to remove him now.’
Naithara looked puzzled. ‘What kind of power has the old man summoned?’
The voice replied pensively, ‘That I cannot tell, the vision is blurred to me at this time. I do not know whether this indicates great strength which can block me, or whether it is insignificant. Either way, you must move soon if we are to succeed.’
Naithara thought on this for a moment. ‘The Sheriff is coming to dine with us this week. I can feel him becoming seduced by my power. He should provide the easiest way to dispose of the man. I cannot remove him hastily, lest I risk exposing myself. At this point, it would be foolish for me to do so. I cannot afford to have people like my Uncle rising against me.’
‘Simply make it happen,’ Eiric said curtly.
Naithara, although in awe of her master, worried about his wrath should she be unsuccessful. She had always felt a mixture of exhilaration and dread in his presence. It was an addictive combination of emotions.