Clive Barker's First Tales

by Clive Barker

  "Like Dr. Faustus," put in Colin. "A man in a play we did at school. He did that."

  "As I said, it is a common story. Well, at length Elz-raal-hiam over- stepped the bounds of his magic. In his towers he called things that have no form, but only names and natures, into the breathing world. He attempted more and more dangerous summonings, until the stone upon which his Fathers built their kingdom split. You see, magic cannot be flung around willy-nilly. One has to preserve the balance. Elz-raal-hiam ignored that basic rule and the earth revolted. A large pit appeared in the ground, and the Fathers disappeared into it, with Elz-raal-hiam in it. What happened in the depths of that pit, no one can say, but there issued out of it a great darkness, like a cloud."

  "The maggot-cloud," said Colin breathlessly.

  "It billowed into the air and blocked out the sun, it was so thick and poisoning."

  "Like the film of Surtsey coming out of the sea," said Graham. "Remember, Col, we saw it at your house?"

  "I remember," said Gwen.

  "What is Surtsey?" Asked the Queen.

  "It's an island," explained Graham, "that suddenly appeared out of the sea. The smoke and ashes covered the sun."

  "It was terrifying," Gwen said.

  "So it was on the day the cloud issued from the pit. That, however, was not a birth-day – as your island was born – but, we have been warned, the day that the end of the world began. At first the darkness spread only very slowly. But now it grows faster each day, and we can doubt no longer. The time will come when it will cover the world."

  "What happened to the people?" asked Gwen.

  "As it falls upon the land, all that walks or crawls or flies returns to the slime from which the world was made, when the Darkness was everywhere."

  "How do you know?"

  "Men have been to the very edge of the darkness, and looked into it with seeing-glasses."

  "What's to be done then?" asked Graham. "You have just predicted the end of the world."

  "You have heard the story before, you said. Then you also know that such evils may be averted."

  "Is there some way?"

  "You are the way."

  "Us?" they all chorused.

  "The candle fell to you, though not by intention: Wake-Robin was pursued."

  "By the horsemen."

  "Yes."

  "Who are they?"

  "Elz-raal-hiam's guard. They fell into the pit when the Fathers fell, but emerged again. The darkness rules them, and they will kill you if they ever find you. They pursued Wake-Robin across the bridge into your world."

  "They were after the candle," Graham said grimly. "They came back every night to search for it. But I don't see why."

  "The candle was made by the joint powers of a number of wizards, both here and in your world. Oh yes, there are a few wizards there too. It is a dispeller of darkness, a bringer of life, and we were going to consult the stars as to who should wield it. But fate chose you, apparently. It may be that you are here because you alone can make good the evil done. But I won't deceive you. It may be that it was an accident the candle came to you, and you are not fitted to wield the light. Still, we must take that risk, if you will."

  "It wasn't an accident," said Gwen. "I know it wasn't. We're meant to be here."

  "Good. Always be sure. It will make the task easier in the doing, sweeter in the fulfilling."

  "The task?" repeated Colin. "What task?"

  "The shadowed lands are known as Desolation," the Queen replied, "If you will trust to whatever brought you here, cross into Desolation, and bring the light to the Darkest Places; then we may be safe. You alone may make this journey unharmed by the Cloud's evil. But the dangers are many and great, I couldn't blame you if you refused."

  The Beacon Burns

  There was a long, long silence.

  "How far is it?" asked Colin, after a pause. "To Desolation?"

  "Several days' travel over difficult terrain," said Darach, "over the mountains and across the desert."

  "We'd better start right away then, hadn't we?"

  "You will go?" said the Queen.

  Colin looked at Gwen and Graham. "Did you ever doubt it?" he said.

  "No," she replied. "Never. Darach will go with you as far as the edge of Desolation. Benedick!"

  There was a patter of feet outside. Benedick came in. "The maps, if you please."

  "Ma'am."

  He took a rather damp cloth-map from a small pouch at his belt. "Here, Ma'am."

  "Good. Now, if you please Darach, explain this infernal map."

  It was late afternoon when at last all the explanations were finished.

  The Queen rose.

  "Rouse the men, Benedick, we will return to the Palace this evening."

  "Yes, Ma'am" He exited in a business-like manner.

  "Where is the Keeper? I must thank him for his hospitality."

  "He went out before," said Gwen.

  "Gone fishing, most probably," said Darach. "He has to eat, Royalty or no."

  "Oh well, thank him anyway. He cooks a delightful bloater."

  "I'm sure he'll feel suitably honoured ma'am," said Darach with a small grin.

  "Ma'am! Ma'am!" Benedick burst in crimson-faced. "What is it?"

  "The barge, Ma'am – it's gone!"

  "Gone?"

  "On the tide ma'am. Drifted off."

  "What?"

  They all rushed to the window. The barge was a speck on the horizon. The Queen muttered something not very regal under her breath.

  "I don't relish remaining here all night. Dispatch some men and get them to find me another barge."

  "From the Palace, Ma'am?"

  "Anywhere, blast you! Just find me another barge. And bring me the man who was supposed to have tied up my royal vessel."

  "Nobody will admit to it, ma'am."

  "I see."

  "There's always the fisherman's boat," suggested Graham. "You could go in that if you're in a hurry."

  "I never hurry," said the Queen. "And I don't intend to arrive at the Palace smelling like a fish-wife. Dispatch the men immediately."

  "Wake-Robin knows the land around here," said Darach. "He can go with them. They'll soon find a boat."

  "Good."

  Benedick disappeared down the stairs.

  "Well I suppose we'd better make ourselves comfortable," said Darach. "We may have to wait a while."

  The Keeper came in with a fistful of fish.

  "Her Majesty will be staying for supper," said Darach.

  The Keeper said nothing, but he slapped the fish down on the table and gutted them in silence.

  Night fell, and the two men who had gone off in search of a boat with Robin had not returned. The supper was long finished, the fire only embers. The children were asleep on the floor, and in the chair the Queen was snoring. Beside the fire, Benedick slumbered in a most ungainly position, while Darach sat, head bowed, eyes closed, in a chair next to him. The Keeper extinguished the candles and left them all sleeping. Downstairs, in the storeroom, the four remaining oarsmen lay in exhausted sleep. The Keeper closed the door gently behind him and turned the key, then stealthily crept up the stairs again, past the main chamber and up another flight to the top of the tower. He opened the trap door on to the roof. The stars were shining clearly above him and the wind off the sea was strong.

  He started as a marsh-bird screeched in the night, and held his breath until the last reverberation had faded into the darkness.

  Moving quickly and quietly he pulled back a sheet of oilcloth, under which lay a pile of driftwood and dried Marram grass from the dunes.

  Fifty years ago the Beacon had been lit to save the lives of sailors. The fire twinkling in the night warned of sandbanks, of treacherous rocks and currents. Now the sea had retreated, and the sons of the sailors passed the Beacon no longer.

  Yet tonight, the Beacon would flare again, not as a warning but as a signal. Not to prevent death, but to summon it.

  The Keeper drew a fl
int out of his pocket, and was about to strike it when a voice behind him said, "What are you doing?"

  He turned.

  "Eh? Oh - it's you, Darach."

  "Yes."

  "I – I came up here to look at the stars. I often do when I can't sleep."

  "Unpleasant dreams?"

  "Yes."

  "Of treachery, perhaps?"

  The Keeper knew he was discovered. He reached down and picking up a large piece of driftwood from the pile, brought it down on Darach's head. The old man fell to the floor without a sound.

  The Keeper struck the flint. By the flickering yellow light it threw onto to his face, the marsh birds, had they been watching, might have seen the strange look in his eyes, and set up a warning. But nobody saw that look, and there was nobody to warn of the Keeper's possession. For on a night not unlike this one, not long ago, a wisp of the cloud had come out of the sea on a wind, and made him its unknowing servant. His mind was in shadow, all his memories locked in darkness, and he did not know what he was doing.

  He lit the kindling wood. The flames leapt up to lick the stars.

  Darach's slumped form was close to the fire. The sudden heat stirred him.

  He lifted his head, shook away the dizziness and moaned a little, but the Keeper did not hear him above the crackle of the fire. He was staring out over the pitch-black marsh, listening for the sound of hooves. Darach kept his eyes on the Keeper's back, and slowly slid on his belly towards the trap door. The Keeper did not look round. Darach reached the trap door, slipped down on to the top step and slammed the door above him, bolting it from the inside. Then he ran down the stairs as fast as his spinning head would safely allow him, yelling:

  "Treachery! Treachery! Arm yourselves! The Beacon is lit! Prepare for attack!"

  There was chaos!

  In the cellar the oarsmen were beating at the door, shouting. The Queen was demanding of Benedick why she had been woken at this ridiculous hour, and what time was it anyway? The children, still only half-awake, stood looking at Darach with confused expressions on their faces. Hastily, Darach explained, "The Keeper is with them."

  "What?"

  "He's lit the Beacon?"

  "What for?"

  "To summon the horsemen I should think. A signal."

  "Treachery," said the Queen.

  "Precisely," said Darach.

  "Where is he? A traitor to Queen and country."

  "He's on the roof, locked up there. Unfortunately, I was rather indisposed when he lit the fire. Couldn't prevent it. Somehow the darkness is on him, he's doing the will of the cloud."

  "So what do we do?" asked Graham.

  "Arm ourselves. Prepare for siege."

  At that moment there was the sound of splintering wood and a great deal of shouting downstairs.

  The company looked at each other with horrified stares. "They're here!" said Benedick. "They're here already!"

  The door burst open and four sweating oarsmen collapsed into the room, all shouting at once.

  "What's going on?"

  "Who locked us in?"

  "I can smell burning!"

  "What's all the noise?"

  "It's the Keeper -" Darach began.

  "Listen!" said Gwen.

  "What?"

  "Listen!"

  The room fell silent.

  There came the sound of rumbling hooves. Hooves in water, hooves on sand. They were close.

  "Barricade the door!" ordered Darach.

  Two of the oarsmen rushed back downstairs.

  "Are there any other windows in the tower besides this one?" said Graham.

  "Go and look," said Darach. "We've got to hold out until dawn. They'll only attack in the dark after their last encounter."

  "I can see them," said Gwen, peering out of the window, which had no glass in it.

  "Keep away from there!" shouted Darach. "Put out the candles!"

  "How many are there, Gwen?" said Colin.

  Gwen took a quick peep. The moon had risen. The sand was pale gold, the water silver and black. Six shapes pounded over the sand towards the tower.

  "Six," she said. "Six against – one, – two, – three, – ten of us. They're outnumbered."

  "They have swords, arrows, and the powers of darkness on their side," Darach pointed out grimly.

  "We'll be slaughtered," wailed Benedick.

  "Be quiet," said the Queen.."

  "Yes, Ma'am."

  The pounding stopped.

  "Away from the window, everyone," whispered Darach.

  Everybody was now gathered in the one room. They could hear the hooves on the shingle outside the window. The horsemen were all around the tower. They could feel the eyes through the slits in their helmets trying to penetrate the walls. Never before had stone seemed so flimsy a defence, and never before had dawn seemed such a long, long way away.

  The Siege

  The horrid silence from outside the window continued for a long while. The children could feel the goose flesh on their arms.

  Then the horsemen began to ride around the tower, trying to find a way in. Inside, in the darkness, the rumble of their hooves as they galloped 'round seemed to shake the very foundations of the tower. All the occupants of the room, including the Queen, were lying on the floor, in case one of the horsemen should try to fire an arrow through the window.

  "What are they doing?" whispered Colin.

  "Trying to confuse and scare us I shouldn't wonder," said Darach.

  "Well, they're succeeding," whispered Benedick. "Is there nothing we can do?"

  "Not really."

  "But there's only six of them when all said and done," exclaimed one of the oarsmen. "Me and the lads, we'd make mince of 'em, wouldn't we?"

  The others murmured their support.

  "Brawn is little use against these creatures," said Darach.

  "What – you mean – they use magic?"

  "I'm afraid so."

  "We destroyed one though," said Graham.

  "There you go, gov'ner. I mean, if a few kids –"

  "There was only one of them, in daylight. It was the sun that destroyed it, though the children were instrumental."

  "Will they – disappear at dawn?" asked the Queen.

  "No, Your Majesty, they won't – poof! – disappear just like that. I'm afraid that sort of magic is only fairy-tale stuff. But the odds are for us in daylight, and most heavily against us in the hour when the moon has disappeared, and the sun is behind the cloud. No light – just the gloom. They know the gloom – it is their master. Their powers are at full height then."

  "I see," replied the Queen. "So you are suggesting that we lie in this highly uncomfortable position until they make up their minds to dispose of us?"

  "Yes. Until anybody comes up with an alternative."

  "Well hurry up," she said. "I'm aching from head to foot." The galloping stopped.

  A voice drifted up through the window, and when it entered the room it was like a phantom touching them all with icy fingers.

  "You are trapped, Wizard" it said. "Give up your charges, and remain unharmed. Your Majesty, we know you too are in the tower. Command him to let the children down to us through the window, and live to preserve your line."

  "Young man –" began the Queen.

  "Young?" returned the haunting voice. "I'm not young. Nor am I a man, if you were to look at me."

  "Well I am sure that's your misfortune. I shall not give up these children to you now or ever. I suggest you and your hoodlum companions depart forthwith."

  Silence.

  "Is that your final word?"

  "It is."

  Another silence.

  Suddenly there was a resounding crash and a splintering sound.

  "They're trying to break in!"

  One of the oarsmen leapt to his feet. "I'll stop 'em," he cried.

  "Down!" yelled Darach.

  Too late! An arrow cut through the moonlight and hit him in the shoulder. He fell to the floor with a cry.


  Gwen screamed.

  There was a moment's quiet, then they heard the riders hacking at the door again.

  "Is he all right?" said Gwen.

  "Yes, he'll survive," one of his companions said, removing the arrow and staunching the wound with a large handkerchief.

  "They'll break through for sure," said Colin. "We can't just lie here."

  The door lay directly opposite the window. Anyone who tried to open it was an easy target, especially for a creature who was used to firing in the dark.

  "We could cover the window," suggested Graham. "Good," said Darach. "Ma'am, your cloak, if you please."

  "What on earth -"

  "Your cloak. And kindly hurry."

  The Queen unclipped the brooch at her neck and slipped off her cloak.

  "Graham," said Darach, "keep well down, and take the other side of the cloak - that's it - now, you slide over to that side of the window, and I'll position myself on this side. Keep your head down, boy."

  Darach and Graham crouched either side of the window, with the heavy cloak between them.

  Downstairs, the door was already giving under the storm of blows. "Now," said Darach, "this is the plan. If anybody tries to leave this room he's an easy target for the marksman outside. So, when Graham and I cover up the window, I want you to get outside as quickly as you can and wait on the landing. Probably they'll fire a couple of arrows at the cloak, so keep well clear of it. Now, which of you is going to volunteer to go outside?"

  "I will, sir," said the wounded oarsman's companion.

  "Very well," said Darach, fumbling in one of his pockets. "Now where are we? Ah! There we are - catch!"

  He threw a silver bottle across the room. The man caught it. "What's this for?"

  "Once you're outside the door, take out the stopper and make a trail of the stuff in the bottle down the stairs, and leave the bottle on the next to last step. Do you understand?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. Ready Graham?"

  "Ready."

  They hoisted the cloak over the window. Darkness. Three arrows pierced the heavy material and thudded into the door. But the man was outside.