The Secret of Kells (4 page)

‘Suffering?’ said Brendan ‘What do you mean?’

‘Just come away!’ Aisling whispered. ‘It’s too dangerous!’

Brendan laughed. Now he felt that he was the brave one. ‘Surely it can’t be more dangerous than climbing an oak tree!’

Aisling grabbed him and tried to pull him back. ‘It is the cave of the Dark One! Of Crom Cruach!’

‘The Dark One?’ said Brendan. ‘Crom Cruach? But my uncle told me about the Crom
worshippers. Crom Cruach is only pagan nonsense, a story, an imaginary thing. My uncle says that you shouldn’t be afraid of imaginary things.’

Aisling gave a deep sigh. ‘Brendan,’ she said, ‘you mustn’t say its name too loud. It might hear you. It’s waiting in the darkness, waiting for someone to wake it. Brendan, listen to me, you must come away now …’

B
ut Brendan had moved closer to the entrance to the dark place. The two stone guardians stared at him out of blind eyes. They were roughly carved, but he could see that they were human figures. Their faces, crude as they were, still managed to look cruel. Brendan began to feel that their lips were moving, whispering something, calling him in.

Brendan could sense something pulling him towards the blackness. Nearer and nearer he went, fascinated by the draw of the dark.

Then he heard it. There was a sound, coming from the entrance. It was like something large and heavy shifting in the darkness. An animal, perhaps? If so, it would have to be a creature even bigger than the elephants Brother Assoua had told him about.

No, now there was a different sound, not like an animal. A slithering and a heavy sliding. As it grew louder, Brendan found something very strange was happening to him. His feet were bringing him closer to the cave while his mind screamed at him to get out of that place as fast as he could.

Aisling was crying now, still calling out to Brendan to come away. When he glanced at her – though he could hardly pull his eyes away from the entrance – her face had changed. It was no longer that of a little girl, but of an old, old woman, wrinkled with pain and fear. But even this sight could not make him turn from the cave’s entrance. Nor could the fact that Pangur had her teeth dug into his sleeve and was frantically trying to pull him away, mewing pitifully.

The slithering noise continued. His heart thumping in his chest, Brendan realised that there was Something awake down there. He had woken the Thing that lived down in the darkness, and it was coming for him.

Now he was afraid, really afraid. He tried to turn and run, but terror overcame him and he could not move. The sense of the blackness coming from the cave was growing stronger and stronger. And a wind was coming from the entrance, a wind that sucked him towards the cave, that was pulling him in despite himself.

Brendan realised that he was trapped, caught by the evil thing. He could do nothing but wait until he came face to face with the horror. And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the one purpose that horror lived for was to destroy and to kill, to cause pain and sorrow and suffering.

Something bright came between him and the dark wind. Aisling had come to help him. With all her strength, she was pushing one of the stone statues across the entrance to the cave. How could she do it, she is so small? thought Brendan. How could she possibly shift one of those great stone creatures? But she did. With a cry like a scream, the stone fell to the earth, blocking the entrance so that whatever it was that lived down there could not come out.

The spell was broken. The wind stopped and Brendan found he could move again. He rushed over to where Aisling lay panting on the ground.
Pangur curled herself around the girl’s neck, trying to warm her. Aisling’s face was as white as her hair. Her eyes were closed and her lips looked blue, as if the blood had stopped in her body. Brendan wondered if the strain of pushing over the statue had killed her.

He said, frantically, ‘Aisling, Aisling, wake up. Are you hurt?’

For a moment, nothing happened, but then Aisling shook her head. She slowly opened her eyes and Brendan asked, ‘What was that?’

‘I told you,’ said Aisling, and her face was like an old woman’s. ‘Crom Cruach.’

They moved quickly from the clearing and as soon as they did, Aisling began to recover.

‘That’s the third time today I saved your life,’ she said. ‘I hope you are grateful. We had better go as fast as we can. If we don’t hurry up, you will be in big trouble with that uncle of yours.’

As they walked through a forest lit by the red glow of the evening sun, Brendan asked, ‘What happened just now? Who is Crom Cruach?’

Aisling shuddered. ‘I don’t like to even mention
his name. It poisons the air of the forest. But you had better know. You have to realise how dangerous he is. Just in case you think of doing something stupid like going back to that clearing.’

She paused and took a deep breath.

‘Crom Cruach is one of the Old Dark Ones,’ she said, whispering as if she did not want the forest to hear what she was saying. ‘He has many different names, and many different lairs. Some people call him Crom Dubh, the Black One. Others say that his name means Bloody Head. There are those who think that it means Bloody Mound. He has existed since the beginning of time. Through the ages, he has ruled by fear, and he has taken many different shapes, many forms. One of the shapes he takes is that of a huge snake. A serpent, they say, with only one eye. There are some people who worship him out of fear. He has many ways in and out of the upper world. Sometimes he is not seen for years. But you heard something, didn’t you?’

Brendan nodded. ‘A kind of slithering noise …’

Aisling closed her eyes for a moment. ‘I think he is awake,’ she said, her voice faint. ‘Oh, I hope I’m wrong.’

‘Oh, look,’ she continued, sounding relieved to change the subject. ‘We’re nearly there. Can you see the walls of Kells? We will just about reach it before the sun goes down completely.’

They followed the wall to the secret entrance where Brendan had crept out that morning. It felt like a very long time ago to him – much longer than a day.

Now it was time to leave Aisling, Brendan discovered he didn’t want to go. Pangur was already caught up in her arms, licking her goodbye.

Brendan said, ‘I suppose you don’t want to come in and see where I live?’

Aisling laughed. ‘I do not want to go behind those walls,’ she said. ‘I told you, I belong to my forest. But you know what, I’ve changed my mind about something. You can visit the forest again, if you like … and Pangur can come too.’

‘But how will I find you?’ asked Brendan.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll find you,’ said Aisling. ‘Nothing happens in the forest without me knowing about it.’

They smiled at each other and Brendan and
Pangur pushed their way through the gap into the enclosure.

Brendan couldn’t wait to show Aidan the berries. He ran to the Scriptorium and burst through the door, waving the bag and almost babbling with excitement.

‘Brother Aidan!’ he began. ‘I found them!’ Then he stopped abruptly.

Uncle Cellach was in the Scriptorium. He seemed to be in the middle of an argument with Aidan. They both had their hands on one of the tables, as if to push it in a certain direction. All the other monks were standing around, looking upset. The Abbot was saying quietly, ‘I don’t care how you arranged the tables in Iona! Here it will be as I say!’

He turned to where Brendan stood in the doorway.

‘Well, Brendan,’ he said. ‘It’s about time we saw you today. Where have you been?’

Brendan said nothing, just hung his head. His uncle marched out of the Scriptorium and Brendan followed him, but before he left, he tried to signal
to Aidan that he had managed to get the berries.

As they crossed the enclosure to the Round Tower, the Abbot said again, ‘Well, I’m listening. Where were you?’

Brendan gulped. He knew he was going to get into huge trouble if he told the truth. But he couldn’t lie to his uncle.

He said, quietly, hoping that his uncle might not hear, ‘I … I went into the forest. Just for a little while. Just to get the berries for Brother Aidan, to make ink for the Book.’

His uncle stopped. He stood with his back to Brendan. His voice was calm.

‘Brendan, have I not warned you enough about what lies outside these walls?’

Brendan tried to explain again that he had to go to the forest for the Book, but Cellach interrupted him.

‘And yet you disobey me,’ he said. He turned and faced Brendan, his voice still calm, but Brendan could see that he was very angry. ‘You are never to leave the Abbey again without my permission. Do you understand?’

He stood staring at Brendan, who finally said,
‘Yes.’

Abbot Cellach started to walk on again.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Now there are matters to be tended to in the workroom.’

But Brendan, as he followed his uncle and listened to what had to be done to improve the wall, kept the picture in his mind of how delighted Aidan would be when he showed him what he had brought him from the forest.

Aidan was more than delighted, he was ecstatic, when Brendan crept to the Scriptorium that night and presented him with the bag of berries. Then Brendan told him about his adventures, but although he mentioned to Aidan that a friend had helped him get the berries, he did not tell him Aisling’s name or the fact that he was sure she was a magical being. For some reason he felt she would like him to keep her a secret, even from Aidan.

Aidan showed Brendan how to make ink from the berries. The first time he made the ink was quite an experience. Aidan ground down the berries to an evil-smelling paste. Then he boiled them up with other strange potions he took from
his bag. He spent a long time pouring the mixture from one vial to another, talking and explaining as he worked.

‘Now you and Pangur stay under the table for the moment, I’ll tell you why later. Yes, this is going to be a good mix. Those were great berries you and your friend found for me. Now was it two vials of acid and one of mercury or the other way around? The old head is going … that’s for sure. Ah, nearly there …’

He held up the cup and smiled. ‘Finished!’ he said.

BANG!

The liquid exploded, shaking the walls and roof of the Scriptorium. Green smoke filled the room. Coughing, Brendan and Pangur crept cautiously out from under the table.

Aidan was standing there with the cup in his hand, his face black from the explosion and his eyebrows signed. His hair was singed too, but he was smiling widely. Brendan could only be grateful that his uncle was working on the other side of the monastery wall that day and so would not have heard the explosion.

‘Ah, that’s grand,’ said Aidan uncertainly. ‘Lots of smoke. That’s a good sign.’