Sacred Wind: Book 1

by Andy Coffey

  Chapter 8 – She may be the last of her kind

  Aiden thought the food at Cracky’s Diner was rather good, as he quickly polished off a healthy portion of Chicken of Catastrophe and Scallops of Shock, with some Peas of Dread on the side. This was washed down with one of Cracky’s excellent home-brewed ales.

  ‘I have to say, Cracky, I’d never have guessed that melon, garlic and chicken would work so well together. That was one of the best meals I’ve had in ages.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ said Cracky. ‘One does one’s best. Now, I’m not due to open again until 5:00 pm so, if you’d like, I’ll walk over to the Stirrup with you. I can have a quick catch-up with Maurice.’

  ‘Thanks, but I was going to have a walk down to the park first to have a look at the fair. I believe there’s a sheep orchestra playing and that’s something I’d like to see.’

  ‘The OSO, yes, they’re very good. Would you mind if I joined you?’

  As they began the short walk to the park on the banks of the River Dee, Aiden thought he’d better check on his car. ‘Well, bless my soul, you don’t see many of these old things anymore,’ Cracky said.

  ‘Oh, yes it is a bit of a classic,’ said Aiden, proudly. ‘I didn’t see any other cars on the roads when I arrived, so parking was pretty easy. Is this because of the fair?’

  ‘No, not at all,’ Cracky said, ‘hardly anyone drives these machines these days. They went out of fashion about forty years ago. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in such good condition.’

  Aiden’s look of surprise didn’t escape Cracky’s notice, and as they walked to the park an uneasy silence decided to hang around to see what was going to happen next.

  ‘I think, my friend, that you are, shall we say, quite a long way from home. Would that be fair?’ Cracky said, after about a minute.

  ‘It would appear so,’ Aiden replied. ‘It’s a bit of a long story.’

  ‘Well, I tell you what, then. Tomorrow, after you’ve had an enjoyable night at the Stirrup and perhaps feel a bit more settled in, why don’t you come to the Diner for lunch. I’m cooking a new special, The Salmon of Panic. I think you’ll like it; the bananas really bring out the flavour. And perhaps afterwards we can have a chat.’

  Aiden smiled and agreed with a silent nod.

  The Grand Carnival of Shearing and Hoof Waxing was a kaleidoscope of colour and sound, wrapped up in an intoxicating blend of aromas. People and sheep bustled hither and thither, meandering between the many stalls that were selling a variety of produce. There was certainly plenty of hoof waxing and shearing going on, with the vendors competing vigorously with each other for customers.

  ‘Get your hooves waxed here! Only the finest Welsh hoof wax used. Ten pence a hoof for ewes, fifteen pence a hoof for rams, and its buy one get one free!’ a large man in a trench coat and a straw boater hat yelled.

  ‘Free hoof waxing for lambs!’ another man wearing white overalls shouted. ‘And free lollipops too. We use the same hoof wax as the OSO; it’s the finest English Shimmy Shine.’

  The stalls offering shearing were equally as assertive with their advertising strategy. ‘Ewe, madam, yes, ewe!’ a rather dashing-looking young farmer shouted to a giggling group of sheep. ‘Look at the styles we’ve got on offer today. Tight perms, loose perms, why we’ll even perm round your udders. C’mon, the rams won’t be able to resist ewe!’

  ‘Latest cuts from the City,’ a stocky man with shorts and very hairy legs proclaimed. ‘Want to look like a celebrity? Well you’ve come to the right place. Get the fleece you’ve always dreamed of. Shampooed, cut and blow dried to perfection. Go on, you know you’re worth it!’

  Aiden and Cracky watched the OSO perform a couple of well-executed pieces of music to an appreciative crowd. He may have been in a completely different reality but Aiden actually felt quite at ease, thoroughly enjoying the music and festivities. And then he spotted something on the river that made his heart skip a beat. It was a replica Viking long ship, complete with a mighty wooden dragon at the prow and another at the helm.

  ‘Come on,’ Cracky said, walking towards the ship, ‘there’s someone I’d like you to meet.’

  As they got closer, Aiden could see a huge man in a Viking costume standing proudly with his arms crossed on the prow, watching over the throngs of people and sheep on board. ‘Five minutes until we sail!’ shouted the Viking. ‘For Odin, for glory and for Sacred Wind!’ Then he uncrossed his arms, lifted his huge broadsword into the air… and farted loudly, which was met by cheers from the crowd.

  ‘See him,’ said Cracky, pointing at the Viking. ‘He’s the lead vocalist and guitarist in the band you’ll be watching tonight.’

  ‘You’re not serious?’ Aiden said, with a smile.

  ‘Oh, yes. Fantastic voice and a pretty good guitar player.’

  ‘My, my and how is my good friend Mr Crackfoot today,’ a small man with a very long, grey beard said.

  ‘I’m very well, Mr Olafson. Nice to see you again,’ Cracky replied, warmly shaking the bearded man by the hand. ‘And this here is Aiden Peersey.’

  ‘Oldfart,’ the bearded man said, extending his hand towards Aiden.

  ‘Pardon,’ Aiden replied.

  ‘Mr Olafson… Oldfart Olafson,’ the bearded man said, keeping his hand outstretched. ‘But please call me Oldfart.’

  Aiden couldn’t help but smile again. ‘Pleased to meet you, Oldfart,’ he said, accepting the handshake.

  ‘Are the band well-prepared for tonight’s gig at the Stirrup?’ Cracky asked.

  ‘Well, that’s what they tell me,’ Oldfart said. ‘They’re trying out a couple of new numbers tonight, so we’ll have to see how they get received. It’s a very strong set list now, though, and I reckon they’re ready to move on to the next level.’

  ‘Oldfart’s the manager of Sacred Wind,’ Cracky said to Aiden.

  Aiden was continuing to eye the Viking ship on the river, which didn’t go unnoticed by Oldfart. ‘Would you like a trip on the boat? I’m sure we can squeeze you two in somewhere.’

  The man in the Viking costume released the anchor, whilst another equally large Viking untied the thick hawser that moored the boat to the old, wooden jetty. The craft then moved silently out into the river, steered manfully by Oldfart Olafson. The passengers cheered again and Aiden felt rather splendid. The sun was shining and the river glistened as it reflected the warm rays. ‘Isn’t this exciting!’ said one of the little sheep that Aiden had met earlier, still dressed in its pirate costume.

  ‘Yes, it is rather,’ he replied, truthfully.

  It was after about five minutes that Aiden started to think about propulsion. He couldn’t detect a motor, there was nobody rowing, and even though the huge sail was raised there didn’t really seem to be enough wind for the ship to be travelling as effortlessly as it seemed. The big wooden dragon that towered over Oldfart, as he navigated the ship, stared silently ahead, like an immense, unmoving guardian. Then, only for a split second, it moved its eyes and looked sideways at Aiden.

  ‘Cracky, did you see that? That dragon’s eyes moved, I swear to you.’

  ‘Really?’ Cracky responded. ‘You’re very honoured, she normally doesn’t give most folks the time of day.’

  ‘She?’

  ‘Ethel,’ Cracky said. ‘That’s her name. She’s very rare, you know. In fact she may be the last of her kind. It’s her ship. Well, essentially, she is the ship.’

  Aiden stared up at Ethel, but her eyes were now unblinking, focussed on the river ahead. ‘Would you like to hear the story?’ Cracky said.

  ‘I’d love to.’

  ‘Okay, then. Legend has it that long, long ago a fleet of Viking ships set sail in search of adventure and treasure. They sought a magical island that was thought to be lost, yet which had been sighted on several occasions by sea farers. After many weeks of searching, they finally sighted the island; but then, from nowhere, a mighty tempest erupted around them. The storm claimed all but two of the ships,
but both were badly damaged, although they eventually managed to reach the island. Now, Odin, who as you may know is the King of the Norse Gods, watched these events from on high and was impressed by the bravery of the men who had managed to steer their ships through the violent storm. Many, though, had died and those that were left were close to death. So, the legend says, he gave them the Blessed Bottom Breath of Life, thus reviving and repairing their bodies, and enriching their souls. Also, in order for them to safely return home, he gave the same gift to the two ships, infusing them with life... and a soul. This is one of the reasons that Vikings regard the passing of wind as sacred. They believe every fart is a blessing.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Aiden said, with a barely-concealed smile.

  The dragon once again turned its eyes slightly towards Aiden and winked. ‘I really have seen everything now,’ he said, as the ship turned and began the journey back to the fair.

  ‘Actually you probably haven’t,’ chuckled Cracky. ‘Anyway, let’s head for the Stirrup when we get back on shore. We’ll get you sorted out with a room and then I need to open the Diner.’