The Long Staff (The Staff Wielder Series)

by Clare Wilson

  The group gasped at the thought of Naithara appearing at the door when Lizzy was riffling through her things.

  ‘The Laird thinks we should not make a move to retrieve the book until tomorrow night. He fears if we take it today and Naithara notices it’s missing it could blow our cover.’ Her tone suggested she did not particularly like the idea.

  ‘I think he may be right,’ said Mrs Wilson. ‘You can’t risk being exposed, Lizzy. Without Torean there to protect you, you and Angus would be defenceless.’

  ‘Mary’s right,’ Torean added. ‘If you can retrieve the book tomorrow evening after she leaves, you could bring it to us at the clearing. From what we’ve seen, she doesn’t need the text to summon her master. It’s tight, but it should be time enough. We only need one shot to destroy the thing.’

  ‘I don’t want Lizzy there tomorrow night,’ Aneirin cut in. ‘Hasn’t she risked enough?’ He looked genuinely scared at the prospect of Lizzy having to reveal her allegiance to them by appearing at the clearing with the book. He knew Naithara’s wrath would be great if she thought she had been betrayed.

  ‘I understand, son,’ Torean said trying to placate him. ‘I know it’s dangerous, but it may be the only way. All the same it would probably be best if Angus brought the book rather than you, Lizzy. I think the boy is right, you have risked enough.’

  Lizzy’s face looked rather flushed. ‘I would’ve thought I’d proved myself by now,’ she said angrily. ‘It was I and not the Laird who hid in the clearing and discovered her plans. I am not going to sit at home waiting for news while you are all out there fighting for your lives.’

  ‘We shall see,’ was all Torean said in response to this.

  Aneirin reached over and touched her hand. ‘Lizzy, I don’t want to lose you.’

  She looked at him, not feeling particularly comforted by his words. ‘I don’t want to lose you either, Aneirin. That’s the whole point.’

  The group sat silently for several moments in the slightly heated atmosphere.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Tom asked, breaking it. ‘More waiting?’ In his adventures there had never been so much waiting. He couldn’t remember reading about a brave knight having to sit in hiding and wait for two days before he could act. It was easier to become afraid when you had time to think about what was to come.

  ‘Unfortunately, boy,’ Torean sighed. ‘Don’t wish the fight upon us too soon. It’ll be here before you know it, and it will not be easy.’

  Tom hadn’t thought of it that way. He didn’t feel as if he had been particularly tested with his staff until now. Was he really ready for this?

  ‘Can I stay with you for an hour or so?’ Lizzy asked, looking at the floor. ‘It was so hard being around the house yesterday, having to pretend everything was normal. Plus, if anything happens to any of you, I would like to have had this time.’

  ‘Don’t talk that way,’ Adaira said. ‘We’re all going to be fine.’ She knew all too well that it was highly unlikely for them to all get out of this unharmed. Torean had been injured already and the boys were now both going to have to play a part in the final battle.

  The time Lizzy spent with the group went all too quickly. They had sat around telling stories and playing cards. They had even ended up laughing despite their tension.

  Once it had turned eleven, Torean thought it was time for Lizzy to make a move. ‘Come, my girl, you should be getting back. I’m sure Naithara will notice your absence if her lunch isn’t prepared on time. Also, Angus will be anxious to have you back safely.’

  Lizzy sighed and rose from her chair. She had been watching the clock for the last half an hour and was aware she was going to have to make a move. It had just taken Torean speaking to force her.

  When she was ready to leave, she went around the group and hugged them all one at a time. Stopping at Aneirin she took both his hands in hers. ‘Be careful, Aneirin.’

  He took her into an embrace, ‘I’ll be fine Lizzy. This’ll all be over soon.’

  Tearfully she headed for the door to start her long walk back to the Laird’s house. With one last long look at the group standing around the kitchen table, she wondered whether they would all be together again.

  After she had left, the kitchen seemed strangely quiet. Her departure had broken them out of their jovial mood and had them all thinking about what lay ahead once more.

  The day passed extremely slowly. At nine o’clock Tom decided he was going to head off to bed. He hoped if he could get some sleep it would help the time pass by. As he left the kitchen he noticed Torean standing outside the front door. He opened the door quietly and joined the old man on the front step. ‘What are you doing?’ he enquired.

  The old man was standing with his pipe, looking up at the stars. ‘Looking at the moon,’ he said wistfully. ‘It’s controlled everything we have been doing for the last few weeks. My calculations were all too correct. It is definitely past its waning. Tomorrow night shall bring a new moon, and with it the window of opportunity our enemies have been waiting for. This is good. They will still be in disarray after our last encounter. I think we’ve held on well.’

  Tom now also stood gazing at the moon. ‘Do you think the moon knows?’

  ‘Knows what, boy?’ Torean asked bemused at such a question.

  ‘Do you think it knows everything we’ve gone through during its cycle? I suppose not.’ Tom looked at the ground, now feeling foolish.

  ‘You’re probably right there,’ the old man said, putting an arm around him. ‘Although we cannot judge how the heavens perceive us. We’re probably like little ants running around on a stone. Now off to bed with you before you catch your death.’ He ushered Tom inside and closed the large wooden door behind them.

  Before Tom went upstairs he turned and hugged the old man. It was a spontaneous gesture. He was missing his own grandfather.

  Torean patted him on the shoulder. He was deeply touched by the boy’s affection for him. ‘Now then, you, less of all that. We’ll all be fine. I have every faith in you. You’ve proven yourself to be a true staff wielder. The Nuggies wouldn’t have come to your aid otherwise. They didn’t choose me, although I can’t think why.’ The old man was chuckling to himself.

  Tom pulled away from Torean smiling. ‘Good night, Torean.’

  ‘Good night, Tom,’ Torean said with a wink.

  Tom grinned. The wink had made him look even more like his grandfather. Without another word he turned and went up the stairs to his bed to try to get some rest. The next day was going to be an extremely long one. He would need to be well rested.

  As he lay in bed he went over the words of power he knew he would need to remember, amail to distract their enemies, beathaich to support Torean when he was fighting. Then there was the all important, aicheadh coirbte, which he would need to finally destroy Naithara’s evil. He was determined that he wouldn’t let Torean down by forgetting his incantations. With the words drifting through his thoughts he dozed off to sleep. In his dreams he saw his grandfather’s face. He was smiling at him, encouraging him to do his best.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Final Stand

  The next day had been extremely long, although as darkness began to fall Tom found himself feeling extremely nervous. The group had become rather quiet over the last few hours. No-one wanted to discuss what was going to happen.

  Mrs Wilson had spent all day trying to convince her husband not to go with them. Nevertheless, he had continuously told her he was not going to leave Torean’s side.

  ‘Not all of them will be using magic, my dear,’ he said, getting frustrated. ‘You never know when Torean will need someone to take a man down using conventional methods. He’ll need to be concentrating on taking out Naithara and that accursed book.’

  ‘I’ll try to keep him safe,’ Torean said, trying to reassure her.

  ‘I’m still not convinced,’ she muttered, looking very vexed. ‘I married a farmer not a hero.’

  Wilson shook hi
s head, he was not going to win her round, but he was still determined to be at Torean’s side. He wished he could make her understand.

  Mrs Wilson busied herself preparing a meal for the group before they would have to head out. ‘You can’t go into something like this on an empty stomach,’ she said, banging pots and pans.

  Tom knew she was trying desperately to distract herself from what was happening.

  When they sat down to eat the meal she had prepared, Tom found it hard to eat anything. He was now so nervous, the smell of the food which he would normally have found mouth-wateringly delicious made him feel like he would be sick.

  Torean could sense his unease. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said quietly, so the others would not hear. ‘You’ll feel better if you eat something. I can’t have you fainting with hunger in the middle of the fight.’

  Tom tried to smile at the old man and did his best to look as if he was making an effort to eat the food. He hoped moving a lot of it around his plate would make it look as though he had eaten more than he had.

  After they had finished their meal and helped with the dishes, Tom looked at the clock. It was nine thirty already. After all their waiting, the last few hours had flown by. They would need to head out soon to get to the clearing before the others.

  As they put on their coats and made ready for the journey, Mrs Wilson appeared looking flustered in the kitchen doorway with a bundle of knitted scarves in her arms.

  ‘It’s July,’ her husband said impatiently. ‘Do you really think we need to be wrapped up like it's mid-winter?’

  ‘It’s bitter out there,’ she said defensively. ‘I don’t want any of you ending up with pneumonia.’

  That’s the least of my worries, Tom thought, feeling queasy.

  They thought it best not to argue with her. She was extremely worried and was obviously still trying to distract herself.

  Deep down she was also trying to find any way to delay their departure.

  Eventually, just before ten o’clock, the group headed out into the night. Torean led from the front with Tom and Aneirin following on behind. Wilson and Adaira brought up the rear, walking along looking anxious.

  Aneirin had tried to convince his mother to wait at home, but she was determined she was not going to sit waiting in safety while her son was in so much peril.

  She had lost her husband to this; she was not going to sit at home and wait to hear she had lost her son too.

  The journey didn’t take very long and when they found themselves hiding places amid the clearing, Wilson told them it was just after ten thirty.

  ‘When do you think they will arrive?’ Tom enquired.

  ‘I think they could make their way here any time from eleven onwards,’ said Torean. ‘They will want to be prepared and will probably want to have started the ceremony by midnight at the latest.’

  They sat huddled in the darkness, Tom was actually grateful for the large scarf he had around his neck. He felt strangely cold and alone sitting among the group. Part of him hoped Naithara would have changed her mind and would not go through with the whole thing. Perhaps, since she had failed to destroy Torean, she would be too afraid to risk attempting to bring her master to life. Sitting in the clearing, where last time he had been a prisoner, shot a wave of terror through him. The sky above was perfectly clear and the moon shone brightly down.

  Back in the Laird’s house Lizzy was busying herself with some chores which did not really need done, trying to listen out for Naithara making her exit. Just after ten thirty she heard footsteps in the hall. She rushed to hide behind a door listening to Naithara sneaking out through the scullery. After she heard the footsteps die away she wasted no time and headed for the Laird’s study to tell him the news.

  As she opened the study door she noticed the Laird had his cloak sitting over his chair and was pacing the floor looking extremely anxious. In her haste she had not even knocked the door to announce her arrival. ‘It’s time,’ she said, slightly out of breath. ‘She’s just left through the back door. Do you think it’s safe to go for the book?’

  ‘It’s now or never,’ said the Laird with a wink, walking past her out of the study.

  She followed him out of the door and through the house until they reached Naithara’s bedroom. Neither of them spoke.

  As they reached the door they both stopped and looked at one another, both terrified. ‘Here we go,’ said the old man, taking a deep breath. He looked as though he was preparing to jump into a cold pool. He turned the door knob and they entered the darkened room.

  Even though they knew Naithara had left the house, they were both wary of lighting a lamp in case she returned and noticed her room lit up. They crept across the floor like thieves and went straight for her writing desk. The Laird took out a small pocket knife and carefully worked at the lock. After a few seconds the lock in the desk turned and the old man put the knife away. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve done that,’ he said trying his best to alleviate the fear they both felt. Although deep down, a part of him felt like the child he had lost long ago.

  They opened the desk and for a moment Lizzy panicked when she realised the book was not in the same place as it had been when she had last been searching for it. ‘It’s not there!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘It must be!’ the Laird said, anxiously moving some papers around. Feeling slightly panicked, he fumbled around in the dark feeling the candles and stones which lay under the papers Naithara used for writing letters. Please God, do not let her have taken it to the clearing. She’s not used it there before. They found nothing. Both silent with fear and disappointment, their eyes searched the room in desperation. As they turned to leave, something caught Lizzy’s eye. ‘Is this it?’ peering at an object which was barely visible under Naithara’s bed. The Laird grabbed the object and held it up the light coming in from the bedroom door.

  ‘Yes,’ said Lizzy. ‘That looks like the book I saw yesterday. For a moment I thought she had taken it with her.’

  ‘Me too,’ the Laird said, looking visibly relieved.

  They quickly closed the desk and left the room hoping it would not be too obvious that they had been in there. Out in the hallway the Laird stopped under a lamp and looked at the book.

  ‘My Lord,’ Lizzy said impatiently. ‘Do we have time for this?’

  ‘Be patient, girl,’ he said shortly. ‘I simply wish to glance at its contents to ensure we have the right thing. We’ll not help Torean at all if we turn up and give him a copy of my niece’s journal.’

  Lizzy apologised and stood over the Laird, anxious to see in his eyes that he believed they had found the right book. It hadn’t entered her head before to think the book she had found earlier might not be the text they required. She had had such little time before, that she hadn’t thought to open it. Not that she would know what she was looking for if she had.

  As the Laird opened the book they saw that there were many strange illustrations within. The pictures looked vile. There were flowing pictures of demonic creatures tearing human bodies apart. ‘I think this is the one,’ he said, relieved yet disgusted. ‘The images in the book match the descriptions I found in the writings from my uncle’s collection. How he could bear to own such a thing I will never understand.’ Wasting no time, he hurried back to his study to fetch his cloak. As he ran, he held the book at arms length. It felt as if he was holding something dirty, he didn’t want to sully himself by holding it too close. Carefully tucking the book into a pocket within his cloak, the old man motioned to Lizzy that they should make a move.

  The pair headed as quickly as possibly down into the scullery and out into the night. They knew they would need to be careful getting to the clearing, and that it was not going to be easy trying to locate Torean and his friends once they got there. They simply hoped that what they had done would be enough. They both ran, cloaks billowing in the wind.

  Naithara arrived at the clearing before the rest of her men. As before, she set out the torches in a circle
. She wanted nothing to ruin this ceremony. She had become completely deranged. In her own mind, she had blocked out the fact that Torean still existed. She sang to herself as she set out the lamps. There was no way that her master would fail. He would love her again.

  From where Torean and the others were hiding they could see her take her place at the centre of the circle and begin to meditate. She removed her cloak and put it down next to a large tree, revealing an elaborate ceremonial robe. The flowing white material, although pure, seemed to make her look even more terrible.

  Their tensions rose even though they knew nothing would happen until the whole group was gathered. The sight of her made them all see what was at stake.

  Meanwhile Tom thought he could feel his staff pulsating in his hand with anticipation. It was like a shot of adrenalin firing through his system. It made it almost impossible to sit still.

  One by one the men who were loyal to Naithara began to arrive in the clearing. After around thirty minutes they were all present. The men stood in long dark robes with their faces hidden. The stark contrast between them and the fair white figure in the centre of the circle was startling. It drew all attention to her.

  ‘Shall we begin, gentlemen?’ Naithara demanded sharply, looking up from her trance. She had not looked up once as the men had entered the clearing, but seemed to sense that they had all arrived.

  They began to chant in a low murmuring sound. It sounded like monks singing plain song. After the sound had risen to a suitable volume, Naithara began to chant atop their voices, calling once more for her master to come among them. As before, the clearing was filled with the thick stench of Eiric’s presence.