Hawkmoon (The Hawkmoon Chronicles)

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Hawkmoon (The Hawkmoon Chronicles) Page 4

by Unknown


  She tapped the side of her nose and leered at me. She had power, that one. Women would come to her to find a husband or an easy birth when they found someone to marry with. Farmers paid her not to put pishroges on their land or put them on others. “I hear you refused the Last Confession” I said

  “Ha, she said, more like First Confession, what would the likes of me be doin’ confessin’ to the likes of him? And he not a true priest”

  “Do you say that?” I asked

  “I do . I know what he gets up to in the Parish house. D’ye have any truck with him?”

  “Indeed we do not. The young priest comes up now and then. ..Says Mass for us on the mountain. Moll thinks the sun shines of him”

  “How is Moll?”

  “Grand entirely.”

  “Neither chick nor child. That’s sad. A woman with hips like hers. What age are you Paddy”. She asks, her eyes dancing with malice.

  “I’m a good age and fit as a goat”

  “Randy as a goat too I’m thinkin’. I saw her the morning after the wedding She was a bit stiff in the walk if ye take my meaning”.. She cackled at me. Then she hoisted herself so that she was sitting up. For a woman at death’s door she was full of beans.

  “I’ll tell you what, put silver on the sideboard there and I will tell you how she can have babbies. Go on now” she coaxed. “I’ll be gone soon enough. My equals have great power when we get near the veil”

  “No thanks Biddy. I’ll be off now.” I got up to leave. …To be honest I was frightened of her. She was fey . My mother warned me …. Never have anything to do with spirits or those who had dealin’s with them. Not to talk to them, or if I was foolish enough to converse with them, to make no bargains. They were liars and cheats. Their sport was the ruin a life.. The game was to take everything and give nothing in return. Even so I was tempted to do the thing she asked. As I went to get up her hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. She pulled back so hard I found myself back in the chair. You would not credit the strength of the woman .She handled me like I was a child”

  “Ah Paddy, don’t go. I’m waiting for someone. She’d love to meet you”. She wheedled.

  I broke her grip and I carry the mark to this day. I was heading for the door when she shouted after me. I will never forget that voice. It was a deep base like a big strong man.

  “She will have a child but it won’t live. There is a price to be paid. The Hag won’t do a thing. She knows better than to interfere with things that are none of her business “I stopped at the door wanting to leave but not able to, held by her voice. She looked at me, eyes taunting. I tore myself away. The last words I heard from her as I closed the door were:

  “The child won’t see the light of day. Tell the boy we’ll wait for him on the mountain”.

  I started up the hill as quick as my two legs would carry me. I was passing out of her land, just by the stand of hazel when I heard a call from the shadows. I jumped, thinking Biddy had found the strength to get out of her death bed and follow me. A woman stepped from the dark. From what Jack said it was the same one. I asked her who she was. She didn’t answer me. Just looked at me the way a badger would look at a rabbit.

  “What do you want? “.

  “Nothing from you, Paddy McGinty”.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting.”

  “For what?”

  She stepped out . I can tell you she was beautiful. Tall and strong with it. And dangerous. No woman ever looked like her ….Not in Ireland….Not in these times.

  “You are curious about me but beware what it might gain you. Some questions should not be asked unless you can bear to know the answers. Can you?”

  “Maybe I can and maybe I can’t”

  “Maybe you can. There are few who would stand where you are now and speak to me. . You have goodness in you and that gives you courage… I am waiting for my servant.”

  “Ould Biddy?” I asked.

  “She is known to you by that name. Did she say anything?”

  “She said to tell the boy you would wait for him on the mountain.”.

  “He must come. There is work for him. Great work. Then she told me to leave her.”

  The wind moaned around the eaves of the house. Moll stood up from the table to light the oil lanterns. One she left on the hob. The other she placed in the middle of the table. The stew pot she hooked to the crane pushing it to the back of the fire. White mist passed the window leaving droplets to trickle on the glass She sat at the side throwing on turf and dry wood. Picking up her knitting she sat back in her chair.

  “In all these years you never said a word.”

  “And I wouldn’t only for what has come to pass”. Answered McGinty.

  “You knew our child would die”. Moll accused him.

  “No Moll, All I knew was she said it.. What good would tellin’ you have done? Make you sick with worry and maybe cause the very thing she predicted “ Moll looked at her husband tears on her face. “So all these years you kept that locked away”.

  “I did”

  Moll was silent , looking into the flames as they gathered. “You were right not to. I would have worried myself sick. The bitch wanted you to tell me”.

  “The question is what can we do to stop this?”

  Moll began to cry. “There is anything to be done”. Ryan got up from the table. Kneeling by her chair he put his arms around her. “Shush Moll. It will be alright. I won’t go back to that place. I will stay away from it”. She clung to Ryan as if both were drowning. Wiping her tear stained face, she took his face between her hands.

  “Will you pray with me?”

  Taking her beads they pulled out the chairs in the centre of the kitchen. By the time they finished the Rosary the air of dread had lifted …. Moll stood from where she was kneeling. She took Ryan by the shoulders.

  “What is to be cannot be avoided”

  The best crockery was brought down. Ryan cut slices of currant cake and covered them with yellow butter. Knowing they needed time together McGinty declared he was tired and bound for bed. He listened to their talk from the bedroom . Jack was eleven months the year his mother died and Moll lost her own child. She loved him with all the ferocity of her nature. The boy had fallen under an enchantment... His last thought was what it would do to Moll when he was gone.

  Ryan came in from the yard with a basket of turf. Stacking it by the hearth he went out for timber. Mist and a moonless night made for utter darkness. Settled at opposite sides of a blazing hearth, Moll in her overstuffed armchair, Jack in McGinty’s seat they talked long into the night, sharing old memories that had been shared many times before but all the sweeter for that . Ryan talked of times he ran foul of the animals on the farm, adventures he had in the woods, building tree houses with McGinty. Not a word about the war nor those he had killed. There was no need.. To Moll he was an open book. He recited poetry .Byron was her favourite. .

  She walks in beauty like the night,

  Of cloudless climes and starry skies,

  And all that’s best of dark and light,

  Meet in her aspect and her eyes.”

  Moll was afraid as he finished the poem. The one at Poulnafulla would swim through rivers of blood to accomplish her ends. The boy would serve or he would lose more than his life…

  The Goblin.

  She stopped to gaze in the far distance where the battlements of the Keep were visible, backlit by the westering sun. In the forest the trees were a mix of Oak, Elm and Chestnut. A stand of Mallorn grew on the southern edge.

  The day was soft with the ease to think of what she might do. She would climb the White Mountains. She would go to Holgun and swim in pools heated by the volcano. She would gaze upon the Worms of the Great Sandsea… Such an odd name for something so mysterious…After time with the Elves she would travel to the Court of the Great Khan..

  Growing up in the palace there was a line tapestries decorated the corridor outside her room She passed it e
ach evening on her way to bed... All her dreams were there and most of her nightmares. The world laid waste after the Dragon’s Breath. The Elf, Shaleen standing on the highest peak of the White Mountains as he sang the Song of Healing. The dwarves overcome at Silverlode . Behind a curtain was another set of panels. When no one was watching she would draw the cover to look upon a scene that terrified her

  It was night. A castle in the Icelands; winged creatures circling the battlements. In the foreground a man tied to a rock as ravens fed on him. Close by three figures, two women and a male; the women thin to the point of emaciation, yet with an eldritch beauty. Their eyes were large and might have been beautiful were it not they were crimson. Each held the arm of the male who towered over them. He had the look of a soldier. He looked deep into her eyes, compelling her, forbidding her to look away….

  At the end, to the left of her door was her favourite; sad more than frightening. It told of an attack in the desert. On the first panel a caravan was trapped Forest and mountain could be seen far away….. A group huddled together on a rock. They clung to each other. Clouds of dust on the horizon .

  The next panel showed an eruption of sand, a gigantic form bursting to the surface, scooping sand, camels and people into its gigantic maw.. A boy stood on a slab of rock as a shape arrowed to a small girl standing alone on the sand. In a desperate attempt to bring the monster towards him he was pounding the sand with the haft of a spear In the final scene worms circled the rock island, waiting for those who huddled above. Of the girl and boy there was no sign. On her tenth naming day the chamberlain ordered the panels moved to the Hall of Audience.

  The year was turning. Rabbits scampered around the hooves of the horses. Crossing a stone bridge she gazed on a long valley lined with heavy oak. Closer to the stream was a mixed grove of fruit trees. She would make it her first stopping place. She began to set up camp; a routine that would become familiar in the months to come. No one lit fires in the Forest. She could eat of any tree. She was not permitted to hunt.

  Munching on nuts and fruit she tended to her little troop. Along with Posy she had two for riding. Gazing resentfully at the idlers a mule carried the kit and provisions. Leading the troop to a stream she tethered them with feeding bags on each . Kerris had wrapped potato cakes, cold chicken and a bottle of white wine.. It turned cool as the light faded. Making a circle with rocks she placed a heat stone in the centre Heat and light poured from the circle. She spoke a second time and the light extinguished. She would have heat without light to attract attention. Gathering a heap of dry grass she spread a horse blanket and covered herself with her travel cloak The branches looming thick above her, she was asleep in minutes. Darkness came to the Forest. As the sphere of night turned the first moon rose casting silver on the sleeping world.

  If anything, the following day was more beautiful than the one before. Striking camp at first light she finished the last of the prepared food on the move, indulging herself in the knowledge that hard times lay ahead. The stream was a pointer for her journey. When the trail split she chose the path that followed the watercourse. On the sixth night the Brother disappeared. The Sister careened across the sky, alone. . She would disappear in a few days to search for him in the Underworld. As Mira slept a shadow blocked the stars. The quiet was shattered by a wailing screech that was answered from the west. Mira slept on, undisturbed. The creatures of the forest abandoned their gambols and ran to the safety of burrows.

  The glider moved south. The animals filtered back. After a time the forest was a playground of wild and magic creatures. Small shapes came out in the moonlight . They danced on the lawn at the river’s edge. They scuttled in the trees. They whispered, they talked, they giggled, they hummed and sang. They played music and the animals stopped to listen. Everyone scattered when the Goblin came.

  It was low sized, muscular; it’s skin covered with fine fur, deep brown mixed with green. The pupils of its eyes were black, the surrounds red, thin hair receding from a pointed forehead. It’s ears ended in narrow tips, pointed teeth in a perpetually leering grin. There was glee in the smile but no joy. It sat by the sleeping girl watching her breasts rise and fall. It felt the pulse in her neck tracing the skin with fingers tipped long, razor sharp nails.... Her leg jerked kicking the covers away. Heat rose carrying her scent Reaching it lifted her clothing…

  Movement came from behind. It whirled about, ready to punish the interloper. A white wolf emerged from cover. Recognising a deadly enemy it spat hate, scuttling to the trees at the other side. More wolves came to the clearing. The pack leader crossed to Mira He lowered himself by her sleeping form. His brethren faded back to cover.

  The first moon was down, the second about to lose itself behind a cloudbank. At the edge of the treeline, where it overlooked the river, the goblin waited . It ducked as water splashed below. Eyes used to darkness it peered from cover. Reivers this far south.... For big men they moved quiet.… It followed.

  They were standing at a raised plinth with standing stones behind. It watched as they bound a prisoner. Saliva dripped from fangs as it understood what was about to take place.. Another broke free and ran. They went to follow but came back when they were called. The one who ran went by the spot where it was hidden, close enough to rip his throat. It let him go. Once they got through with their business, there would be plenty to eat...

  One of them lifted a blade and cut. For a moment the prisoner struggled against the bindings. The Magicker started chanting. Nothing happened for a while. After a time the air between the stones started to darken. Air came out of it. From where he watched he could smell it. When the darkness was solid they gathered their packs and went through. They had left their weapons.

  He stood by the victim,torn between hunger and curiosity. The stars were beginning to pierce the darkness between the stones. Driving a clawed fist, it ripped the heart out and ran jumping through the moment before it closed.

  On her fourth naming day a Ranger brought her a wolf cub. A strange gift for a child, it had been accepted with reservations. Gifts from Rangers were never returned. Her mother wanted it in the kennels but Mira spotted the cub before it could be taken away. It was love at first sight. Nothing would do but the cub would sleep in her room. She called him Wolf. She said she had another name but it was secret. Every night Wolf lay on the rug at the foot of her bed while her Amah read her to sleep. When Amah left Wolf would climb onto the bed. In the morning he was back on the rug. Her mother and Wolf died in the same week…

  Turning in her sleep she caught a grip in his fur. She murmured softly. The wolves left as dawn crept among the trees.

  Kerris and Enoch

  Kerris opened her door knowing that she should have locked it. The notebook was gone from the desk. Fear coursed through her body

  “Are you looking for this? …A mite careless old girl, don’t you think?” A burly, greybeard stepped from the back.

  Kerris glared at the intruder. “Old man, you will do that once too often. I have no time to bandy words with you. I have just sent a young woman with no protection on a quest that is almost certainly beyond her”. Kerris took the notebook and put it in the back cover. Reaching for a pot of glue she started to paste the lining. Enoch stood to one side peering over her shoulder. “Not bad, it makes you wonder how she found it”.

  “She found it, because she was meant to find it”. Kerris wrinkled her nose. “You smell like a horse”

  Enoch gripped her shoulders.” She is brave and resourceful. She will not be without protection”. .

  “I trust you were not seen?”

  “You know what they call me? “

  “The Ghost Who Walks, right this moment you are the Ghost Who Smells. Take your bath here. The less they know of your comings and goings the better I like it”

  “You don’t trust your sisters?” he asked.

  “I trust them with my life, but these are not normal times.”

  Enoch stripped as she filled the bath. There were bruises
on his ribs, a shallow cut on his hip

  She touched his side. “What’s this?”

  “I wanted to come here, someone wanted to detain me”

  “When are you going to stop this gadding about? A man of your age “She took his clothes as he stepped into the copper bath. “When you decide to come away with me”, he replied as he lowered himself in the water. With a phial of soap from the bureau., she emptied a basin over his head. Enoch gasped. “It’s cold”.

  “Don’t be a baby”, she said, massaging soap into his scalp. “Who cut your hair?”

  “The Elf Queen. Well, one of her sisters, actually”. He closed his eyes.

  “You knew about the supplement. Did you know it was here?”

  “I’ve known for years. The longer it could be kept hidden the better. al Jiddah did well but it was only a matter of time ... You must see to your defences my dear. Trouble is headed your way”.

  “In what form?” She asked.

  He wiped his eyes with a cloth. “I can think of several who would be interested”

  Enoch stood up in the bath wrapping a towel at his waist.” One day this Land will be consumed by the sun. Deserts are spreading into populated areas. Nations are facing the prospect of starvation. We should be bending every effort to finding answers. Instead we have the Wampyrhii, squabbling warlords, treacherous queens. There is the also the small matter of a Reiver invasion . Remember when I asked you to come with me to the Western Isles?”

  “Enoch, in all the years we have known each other how long have you stayed in one place for more than a month?”

  “There was the siege of Cormalin. That was seven months”.

  “You couldn’t get out of the city”. Kerris went to the door. “Sit by the table. I will have food brought up”.

  He pored over the maps Mira had been using. Kerris returned with a basket of cold chicken, fresh baked bread, and two bottles of wine..

  “Is Evangeline still cook?”

  “She has an assistant, to help her with the heavy work” Enoch pored over the map.” ..It’s a good route, it begins well enough but there’s a sting in the tail”.

 

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