The Wayward Godking (19 page)

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Authors: Brendan Carroll

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mythology & Folk Tales, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Mythology, #Fairy Tales

BOOK: The Wayward Godking
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“Adar?” She leaned over this figure and kissed him lightly on the cheek, before placing one hand on his neck. She paused as if listening to something. “Aha! So there you are! I know you. Wake up!”

She rose up again and nudged him with her foot. Jozsef snorted and rolled on his side, tucking his hands under his cheek.

“Ridiculous,” she muttered and inspected each of the others.

There were remarkable similarities in all their appearances and they held an astonishing store of wisdom and knowledge, especially of Lord Adar. After an exhaustive examination, she realized all of them were related to him in some manner. but they were not
the
Lord Adar.

“You!” She knelt beside John Paul again. “I can feel you here,” she slapped one fist against her heart, and then touched him briefly on his chest before jerking her hand back as if burned.

“You are not what you seem,” she whispered these words and got up quickly. She glanced about nervously.

“My apologies, good creatures,” she said. “I did not know you, and I would fain interfere in the lives of gods, men or elves.”

She counted them off on her fingers and then hurried away under the trees toward the plain where more creatures might be found beyond the grassland. Her time was very limited.

 

 

((((((((((((()))))))))))))

 

 

Luke Matthew awoke with a start, and then shouted in fear as he struggled to clear his face of the choking blanket surrounding it. The thick mat over his eyes was not a blanket at all, but hair… Merry’s hair. They had collapsed together on the porch when the darkness rolled into the yard. Merry lay next to him with her head on his chest, her hair cascading across his face. He could see nothing in the thick blackness, but could feel her arms and legs and face and body enough to know she was relatively unharmed.

“Merry,” he called her name as he gently laid her beside him. “Merry! Wake up!”

She slapped at him limply with one arm, and muttered something about sleeping late on Saturday.

“Meredith!” He said more forcefully and picked her up with him as he stood cautiously. “Meredith! Wake up, lassie. I need your help.”

She muttered his name and then stumbled forward as he groped for the door. He shouted again as a strong hand grasped his wrist.

“Shhh! It’s me, Mark,” the voice was clearly recognizable and very close though he could see absolutely nothing. “This way.”

Mark helped them inside the cottage, where the barest hint of a glow could be seen in the stone hearth at the far end of the room.

“Mark?” Lily’s whisper reached them from somewhere near the hearth.

“Put some wood on the fire,” Mark answered her and then Luke heard him close and bolt the door.

“Is anyone else here?” Luke asked as he felt about for a chair or bench. He remembered the layout of the cottage and it seemed that nothing had changed since his last visit. They had barely made the porch before the darkness had caught them.

“None I could find,” Mark said as he passed by him and helped Merry onto the bench at the table.

Lily stirred the coals and threw in a piece of wood. The light grew a bit brighter as the dry wood caught fire, but the light was disproportionate to the flame as if somehow smothered. They could see each other and the shapes of the furnishings vaguely. Rocking chair, benches, tables, a butter churn. Luke Matthew found a candle on the table and lit it with his pipe lighter, but again the light was dim and strangely colored.

“This is evil darkness,” Lily whispered. “Surely the end of the world has come and this be the three days of darkness prophesied in the Scriptures. Bar th’ door, lads! Join hands now and recite the Rosary.”

“Now Mother,” Luke Matthew said as he made his way to where she sat on the hearth and took her hand. “It’s not the end of the world, trust me. Everything will be fine.”

No one in the room believed him or trusted him. His had lost his normal brogue, which meant he was deeply troubled.

“Trust ye, Paul Luke Matthew?” She looked up at him and he could see her wide eyes in spite of the gloom. “Look at wot you and yur brother have brought me to. Nevar did I expect t’ lose me home and me hearth and be consigned to oblivion in a foreign land! Oh, if only John were here. He’d know wot t’ do!”

Luke sighed and sat next to her.

“Mother, please,” he said and continued to pat her hand. “I have something to tell you… to speak with you… to discuss with thee.”

“Oh? And wot wud thot be? Mair fairy tales nae doubt? Ye’d best see if ye can remember th’ Rosary, Luke,” she said stubbornly and folded her hands in front of her. “Oh, if only I’d brot out me beads! A noice lot they were. Brot oll th’ way from Londontown fur me birthday. D’ ye remember thot, Mark? When ye used t’ visit maire often than ye did after ye took up with a woife and a mistress t’ boot? Oh, wot dark days ’ave come to me family and me only just a newlywed!”

“Mother!” Luke interrupted her when she began to recite the Lord’s Prayer. “Wait just a moment, please, and then we’ll pray together.”

She stopped and looked first at Merry and then at Mark.

“Listen to him, Mother,” Mark urged. “He has something to tell you.”

“Ye’d best make it gud and quick, Luke.” She glanced nervously at the pitch black outside the windows. “Soon we’ll be besieged by th’ shades o’ th’ dead, and if they get insoide, we’ll wander through eternity trapped between loife and death.”

“Look at me, Mum,” Luke said quietly. He took her chin his hand and turned her gently to face him. “Look at me.”

Lily met his gaze and froze. He placed both hands on her shoulders and prepared to do to Lily what Mark Andrew had done to him so very long ago now not more than a few dozen feet in front of this self same cottage. He was going to fill in the gaps in her mind with concepts, memories and knowledge from his own mind. Never had he ever thought to do such a thing to anyone and, after having experienced the receiving end himself, he knew what it would mean. If his mother was not as strong as she pretended to be, she could be left totally insane, but they would not be much worse off. If she didn’t learn the truth before long, she would drive all of them completely crazy. Either way, the future was bleak and this was their last and only hope.

He gathered himself and concentrated on his own thoughts. He could not afford to give her all his knowledge since he still retained the mystery of the Knight of the Orient. Mark had somehow never gotten around to taking it from him when he stepped down from the Council to take the throne of England. Never had he thought to miss his old role more than now. Never had he ever missed his brother as much as he did at that moment.

He opened his eyes and saw that his mother’s eyes were not frozen on his as he expected, but rather locked on something just past his left shoulder. Her face was ghostly pale and her mouth was slightly open. The short hairs stood up on the back of his neck, and he turned his head ever so slowly to the left, heart racing and beheld what had so frightened his mother. A wispy, green form, which seemed made of smoke or vapor drifted near the chimney mantel. A very dark oval seemed balanced on the edge of the hearth and another filmy form, purplish at first and then pinkish as he watched, bobbed in and out of the flames in the fireplace as if playing or dancing in the fire.

“Mother!” Luke shook her slightly. “I need your undivided attention.”

She tore her eyes from the sight of the Urim, the Thummin and Tamnil hovering near the fire and looked into his eyes.

“Now, be still and quiet and this will be much easier,” he told her.

“Master Ramsay,” the deep voice of the Thummin filled the room and Lily shrieked. “We have looked high and low, hither and thither, to and from for you.”

“Thank you,” Mark spoke up from his seat at the table and then placed one finger on his lips as a sign for everyone to be quiet.

“There is much trouble in the forest, Master Ramsay,” the quivery voice of the Urim chimed in.

“I can see that much,” Mark nodded, and then said “Shhhhhh.”

“The elves will not be able to control Alanna,” Tamnil’s more nearly normal voice added without regard to the Dove’s wishes.

Luke Matthew let go of his mother and stood up.

“Did you say Alanna?” He asked them.

“Brother of the Dove.” Thummin seemed to roll from the hearthstones onto the floor. It came very close to him and rose up until it was vaguely human-shaped and approximately the same size as the King. “Steppet, Captain of the King’s guard and Bridgette, gruguach to the elves, have called up a potent power of Lord Marduk.” Thummin’s resonant, sing-song voice made chills run up and down Luke’s back. “Coerced they, she did a promise from the Captain and placed a powerful spell on the people. Bridgette and Steppet are prisoners within the orb.”

“Great Scot!” Luke said and wheeled around. Merry and Lily were both on their feet now.

Lily clutched at her throat with one hand. Her lips clamped in a tight grimace as she fought to control terror.

“What is it, Luke?” Merry caught his arm.

“Alanna! They’ve loosed Alanna!” Luke took her by the shoulders and looked wildly into her face.

“Brother, please, tell me what this means,” Mark was beside him instantly.

“Alanna knows the secrets of the ancient ones. She knows the secrets of the elder gods.”

“Wot secrets?” Lily asked him. “Who are these
elder gods
? You blaspheme, Luke. There is only one God and Jesus, His only begotten Son. And wot is th’ parpose o’ cavortin’ with familiar spirits? Ye’ll burn in hell!” Lily had rationalized the situation in the only way her mind could grasp it. Witchcraft. Hellfire and damnation.

“Yes, yes, Mother, I know.” Luke shook off her hold on his arm. “I know. I know. But Alanna is one of the most potent of Marduk’s powers. He knows the very essence of the elder gods and where to find it.”

“But Luke, the elder gods were banished weren’t they? Isn’t that what Marduk used his powers for? To banish the elder gods?”

“Yes, yes, but you don’t understand,” Luke said and started for the door, but Mark stepped in front of him while Lily picked up a wooden spoon from the table. She poked at the greenish form of the Urim with it.

“Lily, no. Please, don’t do that,” Merry pleaded with her.

“Where are you going, Brother?” He asked and eyed him coldly from under his dark brows.

“I’m going to find the gruguach and Steppet,” Luke said, but drew up short and frowned at his slightly shorter brother. “They have to know where Alanna went. I have to find him and stop him.”

“Stop him from what?” Merry asked. She was beside her husband again, grasping his arm, terrified that he was about to plunge into the thick darkness outside. “Lily, stop it!”

Lily was peering into the hearth, swatting at Tamnil with the same spoon, which was changing colors from purple to pink to orange and green.

“From releasing the elder gods,” Luke told her and tried to push past Mark.

The Dove stood firmly in the door. He did not resist Luke’s attempts aggressively, but he simply would not budge.

“Get out of the way!” Luke bellowed at him in rage.

“You are undone by your anger, Brother. You will profit us nothing by going off half-cocked. Come and sit down. Tell us about this Alanna. There is food and drink here, and we will hear what these spirits have to say about this.” Mark nodded toward the table.

“Yes, please, Luke,” Merry pleaded with him. “Don’t leave us here. Remember what happened the last time you went running off? We need to stick together. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Luke relented somewhat and allowed his wife and his mother to pull him to the table. He sat down and tapped his fingers impatiently on the surface of the table while they poured up wooden tumblers full of buttermilk and set a plate of fresh bread and cheese in front of him. The gloom remained outside the cottage, but more candles and more wood in the hearth dispelled a little bit more of the darkness.

Mark sat down beside him and took a drink from his milk.

“Now tell us, Luke, what you know about this Alanna and how we might be able to control him.” Mark waved the three ephemeral forms over to the table. Lily looked on in terror as they settled in at one end of the table and took on more solid substance than any of them had seen heretofore. Thummin’s dark form effervesced with tiny bubbles as an odd, serpentine appendage snaked out from the void and wrapped around one of the wooden cups. Luke was speechless as he watched the buttermilk in the cup disappear into the seeming hole in space.

“Hmmmm, that is very pleasing,” the deep voice resonated in the room as Lily slumped to the floor under the table.

 

 

((((((((((((()))))))))))))

 

 

Lucio grumped again in aggravation as Simon ran his hands over the empty bed from which the
Chevalier du Morte
had disappeared. Vanni sat at the drums, idly tapping the sticks together while Ruben and Simeon spoke together heatedly, but quietly in low voices. The experiment had been a success. Or, at least, it seemed so. One moment Mark Andrew had been lying quietly on the narrow hospital bed and the next he had been gone. None of them had seen a thing. There had been no transitional phase whatsoever. Just here and then gone. Nothing more. No flash. No thunder. No fading. Nothing. Simon had been catatonic for the first five minutes. Simeon and Reuben had been hard-pressed to get their father back from the edge of the void. Now, he was running his hands over the bed linens for the third time, muttering to himself about the Abyss and Chaos and demonic spirits. All the while, the iridescent blue orbs skittered about his head and hovered around the ceiling.

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