Read Waves in the Wind Online

Authors: Wade McMahan

Tags: #Historical Fiction

Waves in the Wind (45 page)

“Now, Mark, kill him,” Erc yelled, and the beast sprang forward.

I held the sword hilt in both hands, shoulder high, but the cat swerved as something swished past my ear, struck the beast’s flank and fell to the ground with a clank—a hammer.

A glance over my shoulder revealed Goban and Torcán jogging forward. So, it was they who followed me up the mountain.

“Glory ’o, me boy ’o,” Torcán shouted as he swirled his sword above his head.

Though they ignored my order to remain in the village, my heart swelled upon realizing that, should death find me this night, I would fall alongside stalwart men. Who could hope for more?

The cat’s attention held on my friends, who separated, both men taunting it. The beast’s head turned first to one, then the other, which offered me a moment to retrieve the fallen Staff.

I held the Staff waist-high, and the remembered lightning surged from the snake pommel. Mark, the cat, screamed as the force raked its flank. With a mighty leap, it landed upon a tall boulder, and spun about with a snarl.

Torcán shouted, “It’s hurt, but—”

“Ossian! Behind you,” Goban shrieked

Turning, I found the other cat, Jonas, streaking towards me. The Staff came to life, lightning snapped and crackled, striking the beast.

“Look out! Here he comes again,” Torcán shouted behind me.

“Flank him,” Goban cried.

I dared not turn around. For a moment, I thought Jonas would continue on as the lightning engulfed him, but the beast tumbled forward and thrashed out its evil existence amid a flaming inferno.

Goban’s yell spun me about. “No, Torcán, no.”

Never had I seen such a thing. The warrior sat astride the cat’s pitching back. What was the man thinking?

How he managed to mount the beast I could not imagine. ’Round and ’round the creature whirled. Torcán’s left hand clung to its mane, while his right swung his slashing sword.

The creature turned its head, snapping at Torcán’s legs, then fell and rolled, but somehow the warrior clung tight. Dread filled me as the cat dashed behind a boulder, reappeared for an instant while it rounded the glowing pit at a dead run and disappeared into the darkness.

“After them,” Goban shouted.

I took a step in pursuit, when behind me came, “Druid!”

Erc’s challenge stopped me, and I turned to face him.

Holding forth a dagger, he raged, “You think you’ve defeated me? Meet me with a blade, you bastard, if you dare.”

The man’s taunt mattered not at all. Torcán’s well-being held my thoughts, but something struck my back and clattered to the ground as I began to turn away—Erc’s thrown dagger. I blessed the armor beneath my robe before fury took me, my hands longing to grasp the monk’s throat.

Erc backed away to the edge of the pit as I approached him, his claw-like hands flexing at his sides.

“Come on, Druid,” he hissed.

There was nothing more to say to the fiend, so I leaped forward, my hands grasping towards his throat.

Again, his maniacal laughter filled the night as he grabbed my robe and fell backwards over the rim of the pit. My own momentum served as my enemy, for I could not prevent him dragging me over the edge. Far, far below churned a lake of flaming molten metal. Horror clogged my chest as I fell towards my death.

Chapter 35

Where Evil Lurks

My mind lay frozen within an icy mist. Perhaps it was the certainty of my death or sheer terror that closed off all my thoughts as I plummeted into the glowing abyss. There were no last memories to carry with me into the afterlife; no muttered prayers or even a scream escaped my lips. I merely fell like a mute, mindless stone.

There was not even full awareness when her talons grasped me. Perhaps I knew her powerful, leathery wings pulled me back, away from the depths of the fiery chasm, though it seems more likely it wasn’t until I later assumed that was the way of it.

Blood surged through my veins and air filled my lungs though my mind remained consumed by death. Her voice came from a great distance.

“Ossian. Can you hear me? Ossian. You are alive and, for the moment, safe. Look at me and hear my words.”

Clarity of thought returned, bit by bit. She towered above me as I lay prone near the pit’s rim. Wonder filled me, for she had arrived not as the Morrigan, but in the terrifying form I remembered from the abandoned cave of the Tuatha—Macha. My beloved came prepared to do battle.

“Have you recovered your sanity enough to speak?” Her impatience was evident as she glanced towards the abyss.

My husky reply revealed the state of my wits. “Hello.”

“Hello? Hello, is it? Have you lost your mind?” Again she eyed the pit. “Stand and address me as a man should.

“Do it quickly, now,” she urged as I hesitated, unsure of the sturdiness of my legs.

My legs wobbled, and I swayed to my feet, eyes blinking as my mind fought to return to the land of living men.

“Go. You mustn’t remain here. Take your man, there,” she pointed past me, “and leave this instant.”

I glanced over my shoulder and discovered a wide-eyed Goban staring at us from behind a boulder.

Her urgency confused me, and I tried to make sense of it. “But why hurry away? Erc is dead and Torcán—”

“Sonneillon comes,” Macha hissed.

She continued and I forced myself to concentrate on her words. “Even now, he scales the wall and will arrive any moment. Hurry. Go now, for you cannot stand against him.”

At last my senses were returning. “No. I will not leave you here alone to face Erc’s demon.”

“Oh, my Ossian, sometimes you can be so…” She gestured towards the surrounding slopes. “I will not face Sonneillon alone.”

Drumbeats commenced and echoed through the valley as my gods joined us—dozens of colorfully robed figures appeared high above me, surrounding the valley along the brush-covered mountainsides. They seemed almost dreamlike, though imaginings are not made of such solid stuff.

“Hurry. Save yourself,” she pleaded, but it was too late.

A mighty hand appeared and grasped the edge of the pit, followed by a second. My eyes grew wide and I staggered backwards as a giant’s head rose above the rim of the abyss. Coiled ram’s horns framed a triangular face that gleamed like burnished copper.

Sonneillon’s slanted eyes held on Macha as he heaved himself over the rim and stood nude before us. The monster was three times my height, and, like his face, his muscular frame gleamed like metal. Again I stepped back.

“Go, Ossian, run,” Macha gasped. Her wings spread wide and she leaped skyward, swooping past the snarling demon’s head.

Any energy I lost by falling into the pit instantly returned upon beholding the terrifying figure looming before me. Turning, I raced towards the rocks concealing Goban, slowing only long enough to retrieve Nuada’s Staff along the way.

I nestled down beside my friend, and peered around the boulders, expecting to see what, I did not know.

The drums slowed and a bass voice called from the mountain. “Sonneillon! We the Lordly Ones will not tolerate your presence here. We demand you return to the depths from which you came.”

The demon chortled, and called back. “Lugh! You and your followers have grown old and weak. You no longer hold sway over this land. The Christian god and his son, the Risen One, have replaced you. See before you a new and even greater power. The Lords of the Underworld have determined that we shall rule here. I command you to stand aside!”

“Very well then,” Lugh’s voice called back. “Here is my response to your command.”

A lightning bolt streaked across the valley, striking the demon’s chest. He staggered backwards under its impact, but if Lugh’s lightning injured the giant in the least, I saw no sign of it.

“Puny pagan deities cannot harm the mighty Sonneillon.” A fireball appeared in the demon’s hand. “Take this for your trouble,” and he hurled the flaming ball towards Lugh.

The cadence of the drums intensified, and my gods chanted as one. Their unified voices washed over me.

Fill ar ais le do ifreann…

Fill ar ais le do ifreann…

Fill ar ais le do ifreann…

Sonneillon laughed. “You demand I return to the Underworld? Ha. Even your combined powers are useless against me. Begone with you! I shall remain here and do as I please.”

Never had I expected to see anyone or anything resist the Lordly Ones’ singular will. Yet, it was obvious the demon remained altogether unaffected by them.

My mind swirled. The gods were said to be immortal, but were they? So much had changed across the land, as if the world had turned upside down. Now, I feared for their safety as they confronted Sonneillon. Some force, some power must exist to destroy the monster or at the very least drive him back to his lair.

“Ossian,” Goban whispered. “This is no place for us. Come on. Let’s try to find Torcán and get away from here.”

I leaned upon the Staff and considered his urging. “Yes, by all means go. It is by far the wisest decision. As for myself, I cannot leave. My duty lies here. Druids are sworn to stand beside our gods to protect Eire.”

“But, lad, ye can see for yourself the gods have no power over that thing. You’re a Druid, sure, but in the end, a man. Ye can’t hope to overcome that giant.”

“Maybe, but don’t give me up for dead quite yet.”

“Ach,” he sighed. “You’ll be the death of us both for sure. You’ll not be a’leavin’ the gods and I’ll not be a’leavin’ you.”

A smile touched my lips as I squeezed his shoulder. “Promise me that, should I fall, you will try to find Torcán and escape.”

He dropped his face, then peeked up at me from beneath a cocked eyebrow and nodded.

I recognized his response for a ruse, so I pressed him. “Promise me you’ll go.”

“All right, all right, I promise.” He pouted and gestured towards the demon. “Well, go on about getting yourself killed if you’re going to. Oh…and it’s been nice knowing you.”

“Have faith my friend.” I grinned, and again squeezed his shoulder.

Saying it wouldn’t make it so, and the test of my own faith was yet to come. Power rested in Nuada’s Staff held tight in my fist. It was with a mighty effort I swallowed my fear and strode forward to face Sonneillon.

The demon watched me approach and chuckled. “I take it you would be the Druid the monk Erc told me about. So, you killed him and his cats, did you? Such a pity. Heretic Christians often prove useful tools. As for you, you are like an insect in my sight and waste my time.”

Nuada’s Staff came alive in my hands. Lightning streaked from the pommel, raking the giant’s chest and ribs. Horrified, I watched the Staff’s energy deflecting from the demon’s copper-like skin.

Hands on his hips, the giant snarled, “You would play games by tickling my ribs with your foolish toy? Very well, little man. Let us see how much you enjoy my game.”

It was as though a wave of hot air struck me, bringing with it a sensation of utter hatred towards all men and all things. The Staff vibrated urgently in my hand and my mind calmed. Though it projected no damage on Sonneillon, at least Nuada’s Staff served as a shield to protect me from his powers.

Behind me Goban shrieked, and I swung about to find him tensed, staring at me, hatred streaming from his eyes. The red glow within the valley illuminated his wild fury as, sword in hand, he rushed me and delivered a mighty blow.

My own blade swung upwards and sparks flew in a crash of steel. The Staff quivered in my hand, holding Sonneillon’s hatred at bay, though I knew my friend was held victim by it. Little it mattered, for I barely avoided his next frenzied thrust towards my heart.

“Goban,” I shouted over the throbbing of the drums. “It’s me, Ossian.”

Arms wide, muscles tensed, he gasped, “Yes, I know ye Druid, and I will carve your black heart from your chest.”

There was naught I could do to dissuade him, for Sonneillon’s power held him by his throat, as it would soon do all Eire if given rein to do so. If I hoped to defeat the demon, my battle must begin here, against my friend.

Well I knew Goban’s guile with a blade, for had he not taught me to use one? I retained my staff in my left hand while wielding my sword in my right. Perhaps it was the Staff’s power that lent strength and finesse to my arm as I parried each thrust and slash.

In time, his great strength waned and his sword point dropped. Needing no further invitation, my sword swung down—the force of my strike spinning his blade from his fist.

Though Goban’s power be spent, not so his mindless hatred as he cursed me. Wasting not a moment, I stepped forward and clouted him on his chin with the pommel of my sword. My friend dropped like a stone and lay unmoving.

Sonneillon’s laughter joined the drumbeats in the canyon. Arms crossed over his chest, he taunted me. “So Druid. Do you think because you can best men you can defeat me as well?”

His enormous hand pointed to the hills surrounding us. “Not even your gods can do that. Look at them. See for yourself their contemptible efforts to overcome the great Lord Sonneillon.”

The power of his presence struck me like a blow, and I took a step back as he hissed. “Join me, Druid. Erc spoke of you thinking to demean you in my sight, but in so doing revealed himself as weak and stupid. You, Ossian, possess strength, courage and wisdom. You are ambitious and will find me an eternal ally. Stand with me. Forget your powerless gods; crush your puny kings and the wretched masses beneath your heel. I offer you power and riches beyond your imaginings. Together we shall unite the Underworld’s forces and govern this land.”

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