The Rules. Book 1; The End

by Jon Jacks

  Tull indicated one of the opened windows with a waved hand, drawing everyone’s attention back to the pleading melody.

  ‘I’m sure we can follow the music–’

  ‘Yes, yes!’ Tull was so worried he didn’t care that he had interrupted Galilee. ‘But please; we need to ride there now!’

  ‘I’ll organise the horses.’ Epona whipped around, making for the door.

  ‘No Epona,’ Galilee insisted, ‘if Tull’s coming, I need you to organise the defences! Nothing happened last time, but it doesn’t mean it won’t this time!’

  ‘Then you need Heddy,’ Epona said. ‘She’s a natural with the horses.’

  ‘I’m coming with you!’ Beth stepped forward. ‘If only to see what it is I’ve been accused of!’

  For a moment, it seemed as if Galilee would refuse.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘We need to move quickly. We’ve lost enough time.’

  As if to back up his call for urgency, the whale song became a long, melancholy wail.

   

   

  *

   

   

  As the horses pounded across the fields, they threw up wave after wave of water from the sodden ground.

  The heavy rain struck hard and painfully against horse and rider. Beth was tempted to hold the water back, but knew Galilee would frown upon such a misuse of energy, particularly by her.

  The mournful whale song led them through the thick, grey veils of rain.

  Through eyes squinting against the sharply stabbing raindrops, they finally saw the dark, hazy shape of what appeared to be a hill looming up before them.

  But they all knew what it really was.

  The song vibrated pityingly as the whale either sensed their presence or saw their arrival.

  ‘Who could do such a thing?’ Galilee screamed angrily through the pouring rain.

  Did he mean who could do something so monstrous? Or was he wondering who had the power to achieve it? Beth couldn’t be sure.

  Tull urged his mount into an extra burst of speed. He leapt down to the ground as soon as he drew up alongside the immense, dark walls of the whale’s sides.

  ‘Canola, Canola! Who did this? Who could have done this to you?’

  As he threw himself against the drenched, thick flesh, arms pleadingly outstretched, the whale responded with a mournful cry.

  High above Tull, Canola’s huge eye stared forlornly off into the distance, panicked and fearful. Her tailfin flapped tiredly, throwing up fountain after fountain of muddy water.

  ‘She still seems to need water,’ Beth cried as she quickly dismounted. ‘Like we still need air!’

  She immediately began to douse Canola in dense waves, water she pulled up from the ground and whipped together from the rain itself.

  The waves sloshed and splattered everywhere, but no one minded; everyone was thoroughly drenched anyway.

  ‘Heddy; is there a large lake or reservoir around here?’

  Galilee looked towards Heddy hopefully, but she shook her head.

  ‘Everything’s all way too far away, I reckon. Even if you are intending on using magic to get there.’

  ‘The hill…’

  Beth regretted saying something so stupid even as it left her mouth. Now that she had gone so far, though, she decided that she might as well continue.

  ‘The land’s much lower around Silbury Hill, like there used to be a large lake or moat there. If I could draw on enough water, I could fill it. It’s nowhere near deep enough for a whale though.’

  ‘I’ll handle that,’ Galilee declared resolutely. ‘We can only hope Canola’s kept enough of her magical powers to live somewhere far from ideal.’

  ‘What about the archaeologists there?’ Beth remembered the small encampment that had grown around the hill’s base.

  ‘They moved out,’ Heddy said. ‘When things started getting strange and the army moved them on.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ Galilee said. ‘The calendar’s done its job.’

  Having obviously overheard them, Tull swung around, jubilant and full of hope once more.

  ‘A canal! We can build a canal to get her there!’

  ‘Too much magic, too much,’ Galilee protested. ‘We’d be draining–’

  ‘Just when do we get to use magic?’

  Tull angrily pointed off to one of the other fields.

  ‘You left Barry trapped in that stone! Now it’s Canola’s life that isn’t worth us using all this precious energy you want saving! When do you begin to think–’

  ‘I believe it’s worth using now, to save her!’ Galilee cut Tull’s rant short. ‘We’re going to be using masses of energy to create the lake! But we don’t need a canal to get her there – trust me!’

  Pulling his horse close, he smoothly remounted.

  ‘Beth, if I can lift her up, can you help – perhaps by rippling the ground water beneath her? Some sort of floating waterbed?’

  ‘I think so,’ said Beth, reaching for her own mount.

  ‘Mount up then everybody. Heddy, you lead the way.’

   

   

  *

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  Chapter 61

   

  Galilee and Beth brought together strong, expertly applied air currents and swelling, rolling water drawn up from the soaked ground.

  It was a flowing, fluid bed that first gently lifted Canola up from the ground then continued to support her as it slowly propelled her across the fields.

  Thankfully, the ground was mostly quite flat. Any hedgerow, fence or gate that might have proved an obstacle was shredded in an instant by Tull’s magically whirling blade. The sword leapt from his hand to thrash and cleave at its target as if wielded by an invisible giant.

  Each time she saw this, Beth wondered how she would have fared if Tull had unleashed it against her during the training session.

  What do you think? Could we have beaten that sword?

  In my experience, it’s simply better to ensure he doesn’t use it against you.

  It was an obvious statement, yet Lynese managed to give it a slightly mysterious edge. Was she answering a little more cryptically than it seemed?

  ‘I’d heard that the depression surrounding the hill used to become flooded after heavy storms,’ Heddy was explaining to Galilee. She had to shout to be heard over the rain, which was now falling harder than ever.

  ‘It could have been constructed by the hill’s builders to do exactly that,’ Galilee yelled back. ‘A surrounding lake would turn the hill into an island. That way it could only be approached by boat during the ceremonies.’

  Earlier, Beth had admired Galilee’s tight control of the columns of air used to restrain Tull and his opponent. Now she was achieving something similar in the way she had to carefully transform the falling rain into rolling waves.

  She also had to keep up the heavier drenching required to keep Canola alive.

  It was actually a huge advance on using vast plumes aggressively; it needed finesse, not the relatively blunt use of moving around thick waterspouts that knocked aside everything in their path.

  Yet she was handling it all with surprisingly little trouble. And, despite Galilee’s fears, Lynese seemed no closer to asserting her influence than before.

  There was no discernable change in their relationship, in fact.

  Silbury Hill rose up out of the grey sheets of rain like a long-lost pyramid, a huge, virtually conical mass dominating the landscape.

  Each rider jerked slightly as the horses descended into the shallow depression surrounding the hill. The ground beneath the hooves was soft and spongy, already incredibly sodden.

  The farther they made their way into the depression, the more marsh-like the earth became.

  ‘Here, I think,’ Galilee said finally, drawing his horse to a halt. ‘We’ll l
et Canola down here. Then we’ll pull back to the edges of the depression.’

  Canola emitted a long, thankful note as she was gently lowered onto the swampy ground.

  Beth continued to bathe her in wave after wave of water, even as they turned their horses around and set them off in a vigorous trot back to the depression’s rim.

  Galilee didn’t need to explain what he intended to do.

  As they had expected, the depression was too shallow to create a lake deep enough for Canola to survive in.

  Galilee called up the most powerful winds Beth had yet seen him master, directing their power to scoop up turf, earth and rocks. They turned over the soil and ripped out the surrounding fence. They demolished the archaeologist’s camp as completely as if it had been caught in the midst of a raging tornado.

  The excavated earth was pushed off towards the edges of the natural depression, building up and solidly packing into a surrounding wall that would help increase the depth of the lake.

  Beth felt the most incredible elation as she began to draw on the immense surfeit of water she could sense all around her.

  She began to pull the streams of heavy rainfall together, concentrating their force until water began to fall in ever-increasing quantities across the depression. She also reached out to the areas where the rain had already fallen, drawing it up from the ground.

  She channelled it into rivulets, that merged into streams, that merged into rivers.

  The waters carved their own canals out of the earth, huge, silvery serpents rapidly spreading across the landscape.

  They poured into the vast hollow being created by Galilee, a thrashing, angry, seemingly unstoppable deluge.

  Beth revelled in controlling this miniature storm. It was a power beyond anything she had even dared to guess she might be capable of.

  Tull stood to one side, balefully observing her through the raging wind and rain. Heddy cowered against the terrified horses, calming them as best she could.

  As the rising, violently swirling waters began to lap around Canola, Galilee momentarily diverted a whirling blast to erode the mound of soil he had left beneath her.

  With a joyfully melodic cry, she dipped beneath the waves, powering herself forward with an effortless, graceful flip of her tail.

  ‘What if she’s a real whale? What if she’s not partial spirit, like we are? How will we feed her?’

  Tull screamed apprehensively though the rain. He angrily gripped the handle of his sheathed sword, frustrated that, despite its unbelievable capabilities, he was nevertheless powerless to help Canola.

  ‘Whales need plankton!’ he screamed.

  ‘We’ll get Epona out here as soon as we get back,’ Galilee roared in reply. ‘She might have an answer.’

  Overhearing their shouted conversation, Beth yelled irritably, ‘Epona? What’s she know about whales?’

  ‘Probably nothing,’ Galilee admitted. ‘But when it comes to healing springs and crops, well, Epona’s the one you need to talk to. I don’t know of any goddess of plankton, do you?’

  In spite of her annoyance that Epona was once again being spoken of in such glowing terms, Beth continued to work in careful coordination with Galilee.

  She began stemming the flow of her rivers as Galilee began to close the gaps he had left in the high banks he had created. When they judged that the storm alone would be enough to complete the filling up of the lake, Galilee sealed off and filled in the very last of the gaps.

  The rain fell fast and furious, exploding across the new lake like heavy machinegun bullets.

  Strangely, the storm was now so contained that – as if Beth had drawn in just about every large drop of water – the weather beyond had improved immeasurably, the rain now nothing more than the lightest drizzle.

  Beth smiled.

  She felt wonderful.

  Yes, she was exhausted, drained. But she was also more excited than she had ever been.

  She felt, somehow, so incredibly happy. So amazingly fortunate to be Bethlehem Jones.

  She felt whole, like this was who she really was. This was who she was meant to be.

  She had no doubts, no worries.

  Galilee was staring at her worriedly.

  Tull was glaring at her doubtfully.

  Heddy was looking at her with a beaming smile.

  Galilee glowered anxiously. But his eyes were no longer on Beth. He was fretfully gazing up into the sky.

  ‘Can you feel it? The depletion?’

  ‘You used an amazing amount of energy,’ agreed Tull.

  ‘But…it’s still being used. And it’s not just Beth’s control of the storm.’

  With a few waves and a few hand signals, he indicated to Beth that he wanted her to let the storm ease off naturally.

  She immediately ceased the drawing in of rain and water soaked clouds. The storm instantly lost its confined rage, its lacerating power.

  In seconds it was nothing more than a heavy rain, peculiarly restricted to a bizarrely small area.

  ‘There…feel it now?’

  Galilee looked to Tull and Beth for confirmation.

  Tull uneasily scanned the areas beyond the hill.

  ‘What sort of power does it take to use energy over such a wide area?’

  ‘Look!’

  Heddy, incapable of sensing the energy loss, hadn’t been staring up into the air. She had been looking out across the fields, where she pointed now.

  ‘What is that?’

  The fields were turning a dirty brown.

  It was like a swift flood of shallow, incredibly filthy water, rapidly spreading across the landscape.

  ‘On the other side too.’

  Beth pointed to the left of the lake. Stretching for miles, in a huge, sharply defined curve, the brown flood rushed across the grass and the wheat.

  The fields beyond the hill were being similarly flooded, a brown tide advancing towards them surprisingly swiftly.

  Taking in the way the huge curve was forming, extending out to either side of the lake, Tull looked back in the direction of the farmhouse.

  ‘I reckon it’s surrounding the farm, whatever it is.’

  It was a colossal circle, rapidly tightening around the farm.

  ‘We’re under attack!’

  Galilee dashed towards his horse. No one needed to be told what to do. They all began to mount up as quickly as they could.

  It wasn’t quickly enough.

  The brown waves poured and curled around the edges of the lake, sweeping towards them.

  ‘Rats! It’s millions and millions of rats!’ Heddy shrieked.

   

   

  *

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  Chapter 62

   

  Squealing and snapping, the rats leapt and sprang and ran across man, woman and horse.

  They threatened to cover the riders as effortlessly as they had covered the fields.

  Heddy continued to shriek in terror and disgust, trying to dash them from her hair, her arms, her legs. Suddenly, she was helped by Tull’s whirling sword. It slashed around her as if it would strike her but, instead, split apart rat after rat. Blood and fur splattered into the air.

  Tull had successfully sprung up onto his horse, despite the way it reared, jerked and lashed out in horrified panic at the rats attempting to clamber up its legs. Galilee had also mounted up. Pulling together two fiercely swirling gusts, he sent them tearing through the massed ranks of rats on either side.

  Temporarily at least, it kept off the worst of the brown hordes scrambling towards them.

  Beth, like Heddy, had been too close to the oncoming rats to jump on her horse before they arrived.

  They swarmed over both her and her horse, screeching furiously as they dug into clothes and horseflesh with claw and tooth.

  She hadn’t tried it before
, but just as she had seen Galilee delicately wield his whirling winds, she brought up tightly controlled plumes of water to strike each rat individually, casting them off with surprised and frustrated shrieks.

  Heddy and Beth swung up onto their mounts, the sword and plumes of water taking care of the last of the rats snapping at the horses’ legs.

  With a sharp pull on the reins, everyone whirled their horse around. With a jab of heels or knees, they urged their mounts into an urgent gallop.

  They found themselves charging through yet more rats, thousands of them, all of whom had ignored the small party to continue their encircling of the farm.

  The violently pounding hooves squashed or threw up rats like they were autumn leaves, only leaves that screeched and snapped furiously.

  Sword, wind and water whirled, ripping through the brown legions.

  Then, suddenly, they riders were clear, effortlessly leaving the relatively slower-moving rats behind them.

  Their grins of relief vanished as they glanced across the surrounding landscape.

  They were now trapped within the vast, encircling army of rats.

  And the circle was shrinking rapidly, closing in around the farm.

   

   

  *

   

   

  As they rode towards the farm, they could see defences being rapidly, magically, constructed.

  In the same way that Galilee had hollowed out and created the high embankments surrounding the lake, whirling blasts of wind and water were gouging out a huge circular trench from the ground.

  The excavated soil was thrown up and packed down as an inner earthwork barrier.

  The riders headed for a gap that appeared to have been deliberately left open for them. Even as they hurtled though it, the gap was instantly filled in directly behind them by churning gusts of air.

  ‘Rats! Thousands of them!’ Galilee cried out as he leapt down from his horse.

  ‘We’ve seen them!’ Folster cried.

  He had to shout to be heard over the screech of tearing, displaced earth, the roar of the winds, the thunder of rolling waves.

  ‘Or, at least,’ Folster added, ‘we got James here to take a gander.’

  ‘Millions, more like!’ said the teenage boy standing close to Folster. ‘I wouldn’t have believed there were so many in the whole of Britain!’

  Beth wasn’t sure whether James had had a closer look at the oncoming rats through some magical insight or by changing into something like a bird.

  She handed over the reins of her mount to Heddy who, as they had urgently dismounted, had insisted on taking care of the horses. Then, following Galilee and Tull, she raced up the steps running up the inside of the freshly constructed ramparts.