by Kevin McLeod
Chapter 6
They stopped after another twenty minutes next to the largest pool they had seen so far. There was a big flat rock where they all gathered to look out onto the pool, which could easily have been called a lake. A faint light cast a soft glow over the water.
‘We shall have some sandwiches here then head back; this is far enough for today,’ said Granddad, beginning to undo his backpack and pass out food to the children. Jake sat patiently waiting for his travel bowl to appear.
‘Don’t worry boy I’ve not forgotten you,’ Granddad said to Jake putting the bowl down next to him. Jake buried his head as far in as he could go, eating noisily.
The children ate their sandwiches and drank the juice from the flask Granddad had brought with him.
‘Can I ask a question about the Viking in your story last night?’ George asked, looking up from his sandwich.
‘Of course, you can George, what is it?’ replied Granddad, putting down his drink, looking very seriously towards George.
‘Well, what happened once he was granted immortality, I mean, would he not still be around today?’
‘George you are quite right, quite right indeed,' began Granddad. The children sensed the answer would be long, and all gathered round.
‘For many years he lived right here in the Cove. He lived a hero's life. Rumour has it he fought witches and trolls in these very caves, winning every time. Even an immortal man has a weakness, though, and that weakness is also a great strength.'
‘I’m lost,’ Charlotte said, tilting her head to the side, raising a question with her expression.
‘His weakness was love; falling in love to be precise.’ Granddad looked out over the pool as he spoke, never looking at the children. ‘You see some nine hundred years or so after he was granted his immortality he met a woman called Melissa and fell in love. Over time she fell in love with him, and they spent many years together.' He paused and took a long drink before he continued. ‘He went back to the church to speak to the only people who could help him, and begged to be released from the spell and to grow old with Melissa.'
‘After much deliberation, the church elders decided that the threat from dragons and other dark creatures had passed and they granted the Viking his wish. A secret ceremony was performed, which removed the spell, and he became human again.'
‘When was this, are they still alive?’ asked Peter.
‘The rumour has it that the Viking lives on, an old man now, but the stories tell us that Melissa died fifteen years after they were married in an accident out at sea. Her body was never recovered, but her small boat was found damaged and floating just a few miles out from the Cove.’ Granddad paused before continuing.
‘Love can give you such happiness, then can break the very heart it filled, leaving a hole that can never be fixed or protected by any armour.’ Granddad appeared to have finished the story, and Peter could have sworn he saw a single tear run down his cheek.
The group ate their sandwiches and drank the rest of their juice in silence, thinking about the story they had heard. George moved over to the pool, he looked out over the water, listening to the waves echo in the cave. Charlotte got up and moved next to George, who was determined not to make a fool of himself this time.
‘What was the story that Mr Thornton told you last night?' She asked.
George told Charlotte the story about the Vikings and the dragons, all be it a shortened version and not as dramatically told.
After George had finished Charlotte was quiet for a time seemingly thinking about something.
‘It seems odd that Mr Thornton has just started talking about this Viking warrior now. I had never heard that story before, and he’s told us hundreds in the past.’
‘Maybe he was saving some good ones for my visit.’
Before they could discuss it any further Peter told them Granddad had decided it was time to head back home for the day.
As the children and Granddad began their journey out of the caves, deep within them work was continuing under Graff’s watchful eye. Graff was a vile looking creature. He was tall for a troll, and fat. His grey/green skin had a constant film of sweat, and his warts and spots spouted puss at regular intervals. His eyes were yellow with small pupils of purest black. His hands looked more like claws, and his yellow and black teeth were broken and chipped. There seemed to be too many jostling for position in his mouth. His tongue was black and covered in warts, which didn't bother him at all. The work had reached a crucial point; enough eggs had been gathered by the shadow walkers to begin the final stage. Five huge vats of boiling water stood over white hot fires that were being stoked by goblins who didn't mind the heat. Their skin was so thick and tough the only fire that could penetrate it was dragon fire. To the side of the vats stood a large hour glass which would be turned as soon as the eggs were released into the water. It was crucial that each and every egg was given the exact same time to boil to perfection. Over or under boiling would result in the Master being displeased, and almost without fail a goblin or two would be boiled to show just how unhappy the Master was. The shells had to be perfect; not too hard but not too soft. Once this stage was over, they could complete their work, and at last, their plan could be put into action.
Graff climbed above the vats, and could see the water boiling nicely. He shouted for the eggs to be released, and as soon as they hit the water the hour glass was turned. A smile spread on his hideous mouth as he thought of how pleased the Master would be with him once this was over. His creation would allow them to fulfil the Master’s plan. His black tongue flicked out over his cracked lips, licking pus away from the corner of his mouth. It had been centuries since he had looked forward to something so much. Graff shouted more orders, keeping his workers on their toes. They would all reap the rewards when the time comes, and Graff knew that time was approaching fast.
As they walked back through the caves Granddad was very quiet; his face showed no expression but his mind was running over the events of the day - Ms Kirke and her sudden appearance with Jake, the feeling he was being watched in the kitchen and the brief encounter in the caves. He was sure something was happening, maybe the very something he had been waiting and planning on for many years. The children were his concern, Peter and George were staying at his house, and that meant that if he was right, they could be in danger. Once he was sure he would have to tell them, but not yet. He needed to be back at his study to do some more research and preparation. Even if he were wrong, it would not hurt to be ready. The children cheered as the mouth of the cave came into view, waking Granddad from his thoughts.
‘Well, George how was your first trip into the Caves of Campbell's Cove?' Granddad asked as the children handed him back the torches.
‘It was good, kind of weird with whatever it was splashing into the water, but fun as well. I enjoyed your story; can you tell us more later on please?’
‘Oh don’t worry you’ll hear more stories about the Viking, maybe even more about the witches and other creatures I mentioned as well. This little village hides many secrets, and has many fine tales to tell.’ Granddad smiled as the children all began to walk back up towards the village. He turned around and looked into the darkness of the cave.
‘I know you are here somewhere,’ he said to himself before setting off after the children with Jake by his side.
The children said their goodbyes at the bottom of Granddad’s drive, and Charlotte told Peter and George that they would come round tomorrow. A smile spread across George’s face as he heard this news. He stood watching Charlotte walk away, and was caught staring when she turned round suddenly to wave one last time. He blushed and waved back then turned to walk up the drive. Just for a second, he was sure he saw a shape on the roof of the mansion. A shimmer in the sunlight, then it was gone.