A Hero's throne tae-2

by Ross Lawhead

  “We found a great deal out about Ni?ergeard’s founder,” Vivienne said. “As well as the history of this place. As noble as its original intention may be, and that of those who work here, we may assume the heart of the leader to be corrupted, and the city was led into danger and the sad state you found upon arriving. There is evidence of Ealdstan making dark alliances throughout history with the enemies of Britain, not least of which were the Nazis.”

  “He also sent more than Daniel and me on that bizarre mission,” Freya put in. “We don’t know how many children, but Modwyn has admitted that they failed-that they died-where we only barely succeeded. They tricked us all-everyone in the city was complicit in those deaths. Not just her,” Freya said, pointing at Modwyn, who was still clutching her cloak at her breast where the dagger had been. “But Godmund, Frithfroth. . and you, Ecgbryt,” Freya said.

  “Is this true, Ecgbryt?” Alex said, turning to him in confusion. “How much did you know about this?”

  “In truth,” Ecgbryt began, and then faltered. His face had grown sterner as he listened to Freya, and now he looked at her with an even, steady gaze. “In truth, I knew little then and know little more now. When we first arrived, while you slept, we were bound to secrecy by Ealdstan and by Modwyn on revealing certain knowledge to you-but we did not know, Swi?gar and I, we never knew that you were being used for any purpose other than what Ealdstan told. We had been asleep, after all.”

  “So, Modwyn,” Freya said, her voice as dry and cold as the stones around them. “Do you know Ealdstan’s true plans?”

  Modwyn finally managed to choke out a reply. “I–I-he never revealed anything to me other than the next step to be taken. But I trust him. Although his intent may be clouded to us now, I believe it must have been good, true.”

  “Good enough to send children to their deaths?” Freya spat out.

  All were quiet for a moment. The air around them was like dried amber; to move would have been to shatter everything.

  “Alex,” Freya said, turning to him. “Instruct your knights to arrest Modwyn, and find somewhere to lock her up.”

  “Me?” Modwyn said, horrified. “You would lock me away?”

  “Somewhere out of the way and somewhere safe. There must be a building around here that still has walls and no secret tunnels out of it.”

  Modwyn was agog. Her eyes were watery and wide. I’m the same height as her, Freya realised just then.

  “Young Freya,” said Ecgbryt, reaching toward her. “I do not believe-”

  Freya knocked his hand away. It was like hitting a tree branch, but the shock of the action made Ecgbryt withdraw nonetheless. “Don’t! This woman has lied. She has admitted that she is complicit in murder. Her allegiance and motives are unknown and she has knowledge now of our forces and our power! She is a threat, and in order to secure this recently liberated city, I mean to have her detained until we can find out what to do with her!”

  The force of Freya’s response surprised even her. It was like something had opened up inside of her. Instead of a doorway back into Fear, she had found another doorway into an empowering and emboldening Strength. She felt excited, heightened, but her arms and legs were steady. This was the make or break time. If she could pull this off. .

  She looked around at everyone gathered around her, which included many of the new knights. As she spoke her last words she fixed on Alex, who looked back at her with raised eyebrows, then he looked to Vivienne.

  “It’s true,” Vivienne said. “It would be better for Modwyn-for her own protection-if she were. . put in a place more secure.”

  He thought for a moment, obviously torn, and then said, in a loud and strong voice, “Take her.”

  Two knights stepped forward and firmly but tenderly laid strong hands on Modwyn’s slender shoulders. She looked appalled rather than angry.

  “Treason,” Modwyn said, rallying her wits. “This is treason. By what authority do you act?”

  “I act by the authority of the hero’s dragonhelm,” Freya said, pulling the crown from inside her coat. It sparkled in the darkness. She held it up for all to see and then placed it on Alex’s head. “The liberator of Ni?ergeard has the right claim to this honour.”

  Alex must have been very taken aback, but to his credit, he did not falter.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered to Freya, barely moving his lips. To everyone else, he said in a loud voice, “I accept the burden of this rule, until such time as a true ruler may be found.”

  “My lord,” a knight called from outside the Langtorr courtyard gates. Five knights with long beards that tapered into a single braid were approaching, and something about them was making those around them talk loudly to one another.

  “Haefod,” one of them said to Alex. “We have come across. .” He paused and looked uncertain.

  “Yes?” Freya said. “What have you come across? Is it Daniel?”

  The knight switched to address her. “I beg pardon. We found. . these.”

  He stepped aside, and those around him did likewise. And he revealed, behind him, a group of children, between the ages, Freya guessed, of ten and thirteen.

  “Um, hello,” a girl at the front said. She was taller than the rest and had straight brown hair, a jutting forehead, a dark blue jumper, and black trousers. She looked uncertain and apprehensive, but it seemed as though the others deferred to her.

  Freya stepped forward, and this time her legs shook; it felt as if she had taken a step into an ocean wave. “Where did you come from?” she asked.

  “Um. We’re not sure. I mean, we’re all from somewhere, but, um, we’re not sure why we’re here. We seem to have been, um, summoned.”

  “‘Summoned’? What do you mean?”

  “Well, um.” She looked around briefly at the other children clustering closely to her. “We heard a sound, a low sort of humming-”

  “Like a tuba or something,” one of the boys behind her said eagerly. He was the smallest of them all.

  “Yes, like a tuba or a horn. We heard it and we sort of. . followed it. It was calling to us, sort of pulling us. We went through different places, different caves, and gradually, um, met up, on the way here.”

  “Tell her about the voice,” the small boy said to the big girl at the front.

  “Um, yes. We heard a sort of voice as well.”

  “It was a voice inside the horn. I heard it the clearest,” the small boy said.

  “What did it say?” Freya asked.

  “It said to us, each of us, ‘You are the next army. You are summoned.’”

  The eight children looked up and around at the warriors and underground ruins that towered over them.

  “Do you know what that means?” the girl asked.

  “Perhaps,” Freya said, dread falling upon her like a dark shadow. Just when she thought she was getting a handle on things, a new wrinkle. “What are your names?” Freya asked.

  “Um. My name’s Gretchen. Gretchen Baker.”

  “I’m Fergus,” said the small boy. “This is my brother Kieran.” He pointed to a taller, dark-haired boy standing next to him.

  “David Murray.”

  “Amanda McCullough.”

  “I’m Michael Page.”

  “Gemma Woodcotte.”

  “Jodhi. Jodhi Gale.”

  Freya nodded. “Okay. Everything’s going to be fine, now. We’re going to get you home as soon as possible, okay?”

  “My lady!” called a knight from the edge of the group. “We’ve found the man Daniel.”

  “Where? Is he all right? Is he alive?”

  “We cannot tell. There are dungeons here; he was locked inside one of them. We found the key and opened the door. He is sleeping, but he cannot be roused. He is in a very bad way. They are bringing him here even now.”

  “Okay, good. Good.” Freya raised a hand to her mouth. She thought for a moment, looking around at everyone, who seemed to be waiting for her. Taking control of Ni?ergeard was easier
than advertised, it seemed.

  “Right, first things first. Get these children into the Langtorr. It’s safe now. There is some food and water in the kitchen. Let them rest a little while, then I’ll take them back up to the top myself. Try not to let them see Frithfroth. We don’t want to freak them out too much.”

  She turned on Modwyn. “Now-”

  “Excuse me,” the girl said.

  “Yes?”

  “Um. What about the others?”

  Freya’s brow furrowed. “What others?”

  “The other kids like us. The ones back out there.” She motioned behind her.

  “There are more of you out there?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “We were just the ones brave enough to come here. We saw the fighting, you know, and so thought it best to wait. But the others were still scared, even though it had obviously stopped.”

  “How many of you are there? All together?”

  “Oh.” Gretchen blinked at her. “Hundreds, at least.”

  Freya paused to let this sink in. Hundreds? Hundreds of children here?

  “I’ll take some men to find them,” Alex said. “And I’ll set up regular patrols-they might still be coming.”

  “Good, thank you. And you three, take these children to the Langtorr anyway. And you two-take her to the dungeon, now that we know there is one. Lock her up. Also, a few of you-you lot, there-go over to the Beacon. Godmund is there, and I want him locked up as well. I don’t think he’ll give you any trouble. He doesn’t seem to be hostile; I just want to keep track of him. Try not to listen to his poetry-it’s appalling.”

  Those knights left, their duties assigned, and Alex started ordering the rest of them.

  “Who will rule this place, if not Modwyn?” Ecgbryt, the only other one left in the courtyard, asked Freya as Modwyn was led away.

  “Alex, of course. With a little help from you, me, and Vivienne. We’ll be a sort of council,” she said, just as three knights entered, carrying the body of Daniel Tully between them.

  II

  “Are you certain this is the place?” Ealdstan asked, placing his satchel on the ground.

  “Yes,” Daniel said. And he was certain. The centre of the plain pulled on him like an elastic string. Standing here, he felt at rest. What he wasn’t certain about was how much he could actually trust a man whose face kept changing. Was it just him? It was like there was a fog inside his eyes. It was hard to focus.

  Ealdstan raised his hands and spoke words that were ancient and powerful. The air became like static; Daniel could feel his skin prickle and he felt tightness in his body.

  “What have you done?”

  “I’m sorry, Daniel,” the old man said, “but this is going to hurt, literally, like hell.”

  “No.” Daniel tried to evaporate, but the rubber bands were back. “Stop it,” Daniel said. “Let me go.” He struggled more and more, trying to physically break free this time.

  “This is what I’ve been searching so hard for,” Ealdstan said. “If I had come here directly from our world, then I would have entered through it naturally, but I passed into Elfland through a different gate.” He said more of the ancient words that were low and loud and seemed to come up from his gut.

  “What are you doing to me?” Daniel tried to move but found his feet stuck fast, his legs immovable as if trapped in concrete. He found that his arms were raised now, just as if he were back in Kelm’s torture chamber.

  “I am sorry, Daniel, I am. It sounds as if you have been experiencing intense pain here in this world. I know naught of this Night that chases you, but I can see the marks it has left on you inside. I did not intend you this course but-well, I make no apology. You are useful to me most in your current purpose. This opportunity is too fortuitous to pass up. I will have to place the rest of my hopes on the girl. Freya.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That,” Ealdstan said, “would take far too long to explain.” He raised his hands, spoke more of the ancient words, and electricity danced from the ground to the souls of Daniel’s feet. “That’s not to say that I wouldn’t explain-I most certainly would-but now there is no time.” He bent down and picked up his satchel again.

  “Ordinarily I would have to kill you at this stage,” Ealdstan said. “I may be opportunistic, but not cruel. But in your state, that is impossible. You will still endure agony, though-agony I cannot imagine. For that, I do apologise, most heartfeltly.”

  Ealdstan stood so close that Daniel could have reached out and grabbed him if he could move his arms.

  “But if you need something to help contextualise your suffering, imagine this: picture yourself as a doorstopper, propping open a gate between worlds. That is more or less your purpose now. The door wants to close, but you won’t let it, and so you will be destroyed-but so also will be the door.”

  “Let me go.”

  Ealdstan really did look regretful. “No-I am sorry. I. . Good-bye, Daniel, and thank you. Thank you for everything. I had hoped that you, perhaps-but never mind. The girl. It is the girl now.”

  And Ealdstan started to pass through Daniel-stepping into him. Daniel howled as his body’s cells and molecules parted to allow him to go through. He could feel Ealdstan move through his chest, his stomach, his spine, and out the other side.

  And then he was gone, and Daniel was still left, writhing in almost unendurable agony.

  III

  Fergus had made a friend.

  Actually, he had made many friends, Kieran had noticed, but he and Rory were always at each other’s side. It was as if they were tied together. Even when they were running around the weird, underground city, they were never more than a few feet apart from the other one. They scrabbled around in the rubble, pointing out interesting carvings to each other, or sifted through bent weapons and tools for things that might still be usable.

  Kieran tried to keep them in view at all times-he was feeling the pressure of his brotherly responsibility acutely in this foreign place. The woman who had spoken to them all just a little while ago as they assembled in the tower’s courtyard had assured them that this place was safe for now, and that everything was going to be done to get them back to where they came from, but that it would be best to stay in or around the tower for the time being.

  Which some of them did, but others found it too crowded, or the city outside the walls of the tower too intriguing. The knights intrigued them, with their strange ways and language, and many of the children took to following them as they traipsed in and out of the Langtorr, or set up camp, or sharpened their weapons, or disposed of those strange little dead creatures. None of the knights spoke English, but that didn’t seem to perturb the children. Fergus and Rory were clearly caught up in the adventure of it all, and tore around in banged up helmets, brandishing bent swords at each other. Kieran had told them twice to be careful and to stop what they were doing, but all he got back were reproachful looks, and then the sight of heels as they took off to escape him.

  He was looking for them now, with a silver lantern that he had taken from the city. They loved running along the top of the thick walls next to that eerie throne on top of the pile of stone. He couldn’t see them now, but he thought they might be hiding from him. He needed to tell them that it was time to eat. But he couldn’t find them. They must’ve headed back in. .

  The interior of the building was a series of round passages, all spreading from a central, circular room. Kieran couldn’t find any trace of them there, but in the central chamber, there was a tunnel that had been closed by two large, stone doorways, now broken and set aside.

  It would be just like them to go exploring, Kieran thought, and started down the tunnel.

  It was long and dark and he would have stopped almost immediately, except that he could see footprints in the patches of dust and grit on the ground.

  He walked for about fifteen minutes. Many times he nearly turned around and went back, but he kept thinking that if Fergus and Rory re
ally were down here, then they had to be found. And he would give them a good old proper telling-off when he did so.

  But the sounds that soon met his ears-clanking, grunting, barking-came from the other end.

  The tunnel opened into a massive area, as big as the plain above, except that there were huge rocky spires the size of cathedrals hanging down from the ceiling. At first he marvelled at them, and then he wondered how he could see them. They were being lit from below, but how? And where was that noise coming from?

  He was on a sort of ledge. Creeping forward, he made his way to a rickety wooden frame that something was chained to-a boat? Why would anyone need a boat down here? There’s no water.

  There were bonfires. Hundreds of them. It was another encampment below the city. He saw monsters; great, big, lumbering, rock-like things, muscled men with the faces of different animals, things the size of rhinoceroses but with hairy, shaggy bodies and faces, and yfelgopes running to and fro between them, alternately feeding and abusing them. It was like a mythological menagerie, and some steel spikes that had been sunk into the ground kept all the creatures in. Around the edges, and on the other side, he saw tents and buildings-a more ordered settlement. Did they know about this?

  Did the woman, Freya, know that there was what seemed to be a vicious army right beneath her feet?

  If she didn’t, then he had to warn them.

  He turned to go but was stopped. There was a flutter of hands around his face, and the whole underground world went dark.

  EPILOGUE

  A Tale of a Western Isle Continued

  I heard another version of the tale that ends in this way:

  When Coel had finished reading the Gospels and then finished his prayer, he opened his eyes and saw the boy was still sitting before him.

  “I have marked all that you have read,” the boy said. “Tell me, is there any hope of forgiveness in those words for my people?”

  “I am sorry to say that there is not.”