by M S C Barnes
they were fixed in the space in front of him. He turned to look at a different part of the cave, but further dark shapes were positioned wherever he looked. He focused on them, wondering what strange creatures they were. And then he flinched as the shapes solidified and he found himself staring at … men!
“Quietly, Seb,” Mr Duir cautioned.
There were ten of these figures and they were massive, each well over six feet tall. Suddenly the cave felt crowded. All ten faced inward in a circle, spaced evenly around the platform. Dressed as knights, their heads covered by shining helmets, they wore white pinafore-type tunics over a suit of chain mail. Emblazoned front and back on each of the tunics was a giant red cross. Patterned sheaths which held gilt-handled swords hung from wide belts around their waists. To their left side each held a white shield as tall as Seb, also adorned with red crosses.
Knights Templar! Seb remembered images from history lessons.
Ignoring him or ignorant of him, the knights kept their eyes fixed straight ahead.
“Are these images of past humans? Like at the Five Springs?” As he spoke Seb stretched his hand towards the nearest knight, expecting it, or him, to have no substance. Instead he felt a momentary touch on his fingertips as they grazed the fibre of the knight’s clothing. In the time it took for him to make that contact the knight had unsheathed his sword, swept it up above his head and held it ready to bring crashing down on Seb’s skull. The action was so fast Seb hadn’t even perceived it until he was cowering under the gleaming blade.
“Hold!” Mr Duir shouted and the knight, in as fast a movement, resheathed his sword and returned to his watching stance as if he had never moved.
Mr Duir lowered his voice. “No, Seb, these are not images.” Seb didn’t dare move. “These are the Knights Sentinel,” Mr Duir continued. “They are souls who, in one existence, took a pledge to guard the Custodians within this and other named sacred places when called upon by a Custodian. Their pledge binds them to service. Through the ages only those most trustworthy, most loyal, have been added to their ranks.”
Seb was fascinated, his fear diminishing as the figures remained still.
He whispered, “They are guards then. And you called them?”
“I did summons them, Seb, and I did not do so lightly. But our journey here was essential and the attack on my last visit cannot be repeated.”
Seb felt another prickle of fear as he remembered Mr Duir stumbling through the doorway and collapsing. Was that only last night?
“Dierne, Alice, we may need help.” Mr Duir looked at the Dryads. “Communication is impossible, there is interference. Dierne, will you know when I call?” he asked.
“I do not believe so,” Dierne said, looking concerned.
Mr Duir nodded. “Then return when you can.” The Dryads vanished through the cave wall.
“We have not got long. Seb, open your hand,” Mr Duir said.
The change of subject surprised Seb. He wanted to ask questions about these knights. You couldn’t exactly ignore them; ten massive men, standing guard in a cave only just bigger than Seb’s bedroom had been.
Mr Duir repeated, “Your hand, Seb.” Seb held his hand out. “Now, show them.” He pointed to the knights.
Seb did as he was told. As he lifted his palm the silvery strands reflected light from the aperture above onto the chest of the knight nearest him. As one, all the Knights Sentinel reacted, forming two lines in front of Seb and drawing their swords. Seb panicked and tried to put his hand down. Mr Duir grabbed his arm. “No, wait.” Now the Sentinels placed the tips of their swords on the ground and, hands grasping hilts, knelt.
Seb held his breath.
Mr Duir spoke. “Ab healdan. This is the new Custodian.” In response the Sentinels bowed their heads.
Seb felt utterly stupid, the light still shining from his hand, the Sentinels motionless, bowing before him and then suddenly his knees buckled and he staggered.
Mr Duir held him up. “You are unused to using your energy; it will be draining at first. Sit.” He lowered Seb to the ground. “Now, it is time to bring the others here.” He waved his hand and the knights rose, formed a circle around the outside of the dais and then froze.
Reunited
Mr Duir lifted his arm. Light from the shaft hit his open hand and he directed it onto the wall between two knights where a patch in the carvings seemed to have been destroyed by time and erosion. A door appeared, its silver doorknob turned and it opened. Led by Dominic White, Scarlet and Seb’s friends stepped into the cave, eyes widening as each saw Seb and then the carvings.
Heath followed. “Come on, move on in.” He chuckled then stopped. “Knights Sentinel, Aelfric? You are taking this seriously.”
“Knights?” Scarlet looked around.
Seb, still sitting on the floor, pointed at the nearest to her. “Knights.”
She gaped as the ten figures became obvious to her and as the other teachers entered they seemed as surprised as Heath.
“This is cosy,” Zach bellowed, inching across the crowded platform to stand close to Scarlet.
“I agree,” Heath laughed. “Was it really necessary, Aelfric – The Sentinels?” His cheerful voice boomed around the cave.
Mr Duir nodded but said nothing.
Nat moved over to Seb, looking uncomfortable as Zach scuffed his foot on the platform and huffed, “It really is cosy in here. Are we going elsewhere … some of us at least?”
“Dominic,” Mr Duir called as Seb stood up.
Mr White, cramped between Miss Angel and The Caretaker, who had stepped through the door before it fizzled away, slipped a craggy hand inside his jacket and pulled out his tin. Aiden, already covered in flamers, shuffled over to him.
Mr Duir gave an order and the knights parted left and right.
“This is not a simple door to open; it bears Elf-Wards which are spells designed to secure it against all but our groups and which need specific words to lift them. Do you see the locks?” Mr White asked Aiden who stared into his own tin. Looking up he pointed confidently to the figure of a woman wearing a crown, holding a wheel in her right hand.
“Yes, good,” the old teacher said.
“Seb, lift your hand,” Mr Duir instructed.
Obeying, Seb took a step back as light rebounded from his palm, dancing across the walls.
“There Seb, point it there,” Aiden said, indicating the wheel supported by the carved female figure. Seb illuminated the centre of the wheel.
“Scarlet …” Miss Angel beckoned to her and she awkwardly bypassed Zach to stand with the teacher in front of Aiden.
“Oh Aiden, I can see writing on your tin,” she smiled.
Zach barged over to look. “Nothing there, Scarlet,” he said.
“There is,” she said. “Though I can’t read it!”
“Try,” Miss Angel told her.
Struggling with pronunciation, Scarlet spoke the two words she apparently saw on the tin, “Rnærác álynian.” She said them a couple of times and on the second, more accurate attempt, there was a click. The carved wheel turned half a circle and slotted backward into the wall.
“Well, look at that.” Zach laughed.
“The next, Aiden,” Mr Duir said.
Aiden looked into the tin and back at the wall. He pointed to the crude carving which was either a dog or a horse, Seb still wasn’t sure. Mr White nodded.
Before he got to speak, though, Zach shouted, “Is that … it’s a naked woman! That is disgusting – really! You can see everything!”
Seb had been trying to ignore the carved female figure beside the horse-dog, embarrassed by it.
Disregarding Zach’s comment Mr Duir said, “Dominic, we need to speed this up.”
Seb was finding it difficult to stand and Mr Duir, noticing, illuminated the carving himself. Miss Angel prompted Scarlet.
“Miere nerian!” she said, looking at Aiden’s tin and the horse shape slid backward into the wall with a
click.
“Continue,” Mr Duir said, his face stern.
“To open it you need the creative key,” Mr White told Aiden.
“Wouldn’t a handle do?” Zach mumbled. Miss West tutted.
Aiden ignored him and pointed to the carving of the outstretched hand releasing a bird. “Coll,” he announced. “The line of the palm and the four lines of the fingers, they make the Ogham symbol for Coll. The hazel tree! It’s the tree of creativity.”
Mr White looked at him so proudly.
Seb hoped he didn’t have to illuminate anything more. He was still weak and his palm was now hurting.
Nat tugged his arm and whispered, “Seb, there’s something not right here.”
Her voice carried further than she had anticipated and Heath, inches away, heard. He moved over to her. She jumped and looked guilty.
“We’ll be through in a jiffy,” he said.
Seb pressed his right thumb to his birthmark, trying to stop the throbbing which was getting worse.
“Seb, we need the light on the wall,” Aiden said, and then there was a sudden, violent gust of wind. In its forceful wake every flamer in the cavern went out and Seb felt hands push him back towards the railings that ran around the dais. He heard the stamp of many heavy feet, then Aiden squealed as a loud swishing sound filled the air before stillness and darkness fell.
Heart pounding, Seb waited. As his eyes adjusted to the weak light from the shaft above he could make out Mr Duir standing in front of him, shielding him. Miss West and Zach, each with their staff tip planted in to the ground and The Caretaker, also holding a staff, formed a protective arc in front of The Head. In front of them, six