Waves in the Wind (46 page)

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Authors: Wade McMahan

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BOOK: Waves in the Wind
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Foulness filled my mouth. Though the demon’s strength through hatred proved great, the deceit in his words was as transparent as spring water. He didn’t need me. For him, I was merely a toy, a brief source of amusement. .

“Think of it, Druid,” he urged. “All you could ever need or desire can be yours. What is it you want? Take it!”

Another lightning bolt streaked across the canyon, striking Sonneillon’s shoulder. He snarled and spun about, hurling a fireball though Lugh had already disappeared. The wildfire grew and crackled as smoke swirled along the mountainside.

To continue standing in the open appeared foolish, for I held no chance against him. Common sense dictated that I retreat while his attention was diverted. The same cluster of boulders still offered a refuge of sorts, but I took no more than three hurried steps towards them when I tripped and fell on my face.

Tink
.

The crucifix. Brendan’s forgotten gift fell from my pocket. I scooped it into my fist and darted towards the rocks.

Goban still lay where he fell, so I grabbed his arm and towed him behind me until I huddled behind the boulders. My friend lay still, uttering not a sound. I peeked around a stone, fearing the demon followed me.

His attention remained on the gods as a shower of golden arrows struck him, deflecting off his metal-like skin. Hands on hips, Sonneillon raised his face to the hills and laughed. Another wave of arrows arced towards him, causing no more effect than the first.

The crucifix warmed in my hand and it brewed a thought. Sonneillon was born of Christian beliefs and it might lie with Jehovah to destroy him. In that moment, Brendan’s presence or even that of Brother Tobias would prove useful to call upon their god. As for speaking to him myself, I found the idea distasteful. No good had ever come of my encounters with him and his followers, and it seemed likely he would bear me no kindness.

The drums continued their thrumming as Macha appeared from the darkness and swooped ’round the giant’s head while screeching her fury, her talons slashing at his eyes. Sonneillon shielded his face with his hands, swung a mighty fist towards her as she flew near and roared out his hatred when she soared skyward, barely avoiding his blow.

Enough of this
. If Jehovah could help, though I knew nothing of him and cared less, I would attempt to speak with him.

“O Jehovah. I am Ossian, the Druid. Perhaps you know me as one who fought your followers many times, but now I call upon you to unite with the Lords of the Sidhe to defeat a common enemy. See Sonneillon, who would impose hatred across this land.” I held high the tiny crucifix clasped between my thumb and forefinger. “Though no right I claim to ask it of you, I humbly beg you to strike him down.”

There was no response from Jehovah, but little I expected one. Sonneillon remained by the pit’s edge, laughing and hurling fireballs at my gods. If he gave me further thought, he showed no signs of it.

Another lightning bolt struck the monster while more arrows showered down upon him. If the Lordly Ones refused to give up the fight, I would swallow my pride and continue to call upon the Christian god.

“Look upon them, Jehovah. See the Lordly Ones. They battle a demon rooted in your mysteries, not theirs. You desire to rule Eire? If so, stand forth and prove yourself worthy by shielding it now, just as the Lordly Ones defended it for thousands of years.”

It is ashamed he should be for standing aside while the Lordly Ones fight his battle for him
. So I thought, as the drums pounded ever louder.

Macha swooped in again, talons wide, screeching her battle fury, slashing at his face.

Sonneillon’s great hand reached out and captured her leg, pulling her down towards his grinning face. My heart leaped into my throat as her wings thrashed the air in her attempt to escape his powerful grasp.

Nuada’s Staff had already proven useless, but I grabbed it and stood erect. With the Staff in one hand, I raised high the crucifix in the other, thinking to rush forward to her aid.

Before I took a step, lightning sizzled through the air, striking the demon’s hip, turning him. A second bolt struck his back, staggering him forward to the very brink of the abyss. Relief flooded me as Sonneillon released Macha, his arms flailing the air to avoid pitching forward into the glowing chasm.

Enough! Enough! The gods risk all against this monster, and Jehovah must act!
Their desperation led to my own, so I pleaded to the Christian god.

“What must I do to gain your aid? You demand my belief in you? Is that the bargain you require? If so, you have this Druid’s promise to accept you. However, if you insist that I forsake my gods and worship you alone, I swear on the Staff of Nuada that I will never do, and will damn you with my last breath. I adore reason, not tyrants. Upon my honor, I will remain here and die beside the Lordly Ones before abandoning them.”

Sonneillon snarled, his pointing finger sweeping the mountainsides. “You cannot harm me. Neither can you hold me here.”

His derisive laugh blended with the pulsing of the drums. “Now, I shall leave this place and stride across the land where I will be joined by other Lords of the Underworld. We shall be invincible and I warn you to stand out of our way.”

He must not be allowed to escape this place.
My mind was frantic, devising and rejecting plans to hold him within the valley. Only one possible hope remained. The god of the Christians must act, so I offered my final plea.

“Jehovah. If I know you within my Druid’s heart as the god of a great religion, will you not find room in yours to accept me for who I am? My faith is all I can offer, for, in the end, it is all I own. Will you stand with us? If you exist, I—”

The earth rumbled, and the ground pitched like waves at sea, tossing me from my feet. My fingers clawed the earth for a handhold, and exultation filled me at witnessing Jehovah’s power.

The soil crumbled beneath Sonneillon’s feet, and, arms flailing, he stumbled backwards towards the pit. The demon swayed, roared and fell from view over the rim.

I thought him gone, but his great hands re-appeared, clinging to the edge of the pit. The ground continued to roll beneath me, my attention holding to Sonneillon’s struggle to pull himself up from the fiery abyss.

Lightning bolts sizzled through the air, once, twice, three times, blasting free the demon’s desperate grip. Fiendish hatred struck me like a great ocean wave as he fell away, screeching his fury.

I continued lying flat, for it seemed Jehovah wasn’t done with Sonneillon. The grating of stone against stone resumed, and the circular rim of the glowing pit began closing in upon itself. The fiery glow dimmed, then disappeared as the edges of the evil chasm ground together and sealed.

The thrumming of the drums died away. Wings fluttered overhead and the Lordly Ones’ laughter chorused around me.

Lugh’s voice thundered within the valley. “So, Ossian. You called upon the Christian god for aid. Your Lords of the Sidhe find your decision well met and thank you for it. Our many blessings upon you, Wise One.”

Relief flooded me. I worried how my gods would accept my agreement with Jehovah, for of course they knew of it. I muttered blessings in return. They stood together to hold Sonneillon at bay until Jehovah arrived to shake the ground, though it was Lugh’s lightning bolts that broke the demon’s grip and returned him to his underworld. Ah, it seemed a fitting ending.

Only the crackling fires on the mountainside could be heard, for otherwise quiet filled the valley. My gods had departed—perhaps all save one.

“Jehovah, your humble servant thanks you for siding us to overcome a great demon. Yes, the Lord of Hatred was defeated this night, though I fear he is not vanquished and will return again and again throughout all the ages to come.

“We made a bargain and you now own a piece of my heart. It will take time for us to understand one another, eh?” I chuckled. “I pray we both have the patience for it.”

A nearby groan brought me to my feet. Goban.

I stood away at a cautious distance lest vestiges of Sonneillon’s hatred still dwelt within him.

My friend sat up and shook his head. His eyes swept the clearing, coming to rest on me.

“You’re alive,” he muttered. Goban rose to his knees and bowed. “No man who betrayed ye as I did deserves the honor to remain your friend. Still, I beg ye forgive me weakness in the face of the monster.”

“Goban, my friend, I—”

“Never has anythin’ defeated me so easily as that demon did. He possessed me mind, and I couldn’t… Tell me, lad. Am I forgiven?”

“Aye.” I grinned. “You’re forgiven.”

“Thank ye, Ossian, you see I…” He glanced around. “Where is that fiend, anyway?”

“Sonneillon’s gone. The gods—”

“They killed him, eh? Hah. A good job that, I say.”

He hung his head, then looked up, his eyes haunted. “Were they truly here? I mean, was it I lost me mind and only dreamed the gods joined us?”

I nodded. “They were here, but I wouldn’t advise speaking of it when we return to the village.”

“Yes, those villagers would think me crazy, wouldn’t they?” He sighed. “Well, I can’t say I’d blame ’em for it. In truth, it may be you and I are both crazy. Anyway, I’ll keep me mouth shut right enough.”

Whistling broke the silence; a lilting tune coming towards us.

“What do ye know?” Goban cackled. “That be Torcán, the dirty scoundrel.”

The warrior rounded a boulder, stopped short upon seeing us and glanced around. “What happened to the glowing hole?”

“What hole?” Goban snorted.

“And the mountain’s on fire.”

“We know. Now tell us—what of the cat? It’s dead?”

Admiration filled me as Torcán shrugged. “Would I be standing here talking to you if it wasn’t? I owed it to the spirits of the poor village lads it killed to make an end to it. Ahem. You see, I—”

“Ach.” Goban shook his finger at the warrior’s nose. “You’re a madman to go about ridin’ a beastly cat. That’s what ye are, a madman. Your story will wait ’til we reach the village. Ye can tell Ossian and me all about it over a mug.”

“Ah,” Torcán winked, “you’ve a keen wit about you, my friend, a keen wit indeed. You’ve a keg?”

“Of course, I’ve a keg.”

I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. “And I’ve a full wine flask on my saddle.”

“So,” Torcán stepped forward and slapped my back, “is it any wonder they call you Druids ‘Wise Ones?’ Lead on, for I suffer a powerful thirst.”

Their banter continued as we rode down the mountain; needful words to release lingering tension. Little I added to it, for I was thinking of my gods—and I had a new one to consider.

Chapter 36

Destiny’s Winds

Morrigan waited upon the ridge, her white gown ablaze within the setting sun. Her concerned frown greeted me as I limped into the small clearing.

“You’re injured?”

“Just sore and bruised, is all.” I grinned, leaning upon the Staff. “Then again, I wouldn’t be here at all had you not saved my life last night.”

“Nay, it was you who saved us all,” she gasped, and rushed forward into my arms, our hearts pounding, lips joined. There we remained until her slender hands pushed me away.

Delight filled her face and she cocked her head as she stepped back and looked me up and down. “I hoped to find you wearing your splendid new robe.”

“No. I discovered it upon wakening this morning. It was a surprising gift. I thank you, but it is a Master Druid’s robe. I am unworthy and may not wear it.”

“Your gods will decide your worth, Master Ossian.”

“Master? But—”

“Quiet. Lugh himself bestowed the title upon you. Besides, the robe wasn’t my gift. It was Brigid who wove it of the finest scarlet linen. With her own hands, she embroidered the golden serpent across the front. She brought it to you during the night.” Her eyes twinkled. “The most beautiful of all the goddesses seems to admire you very much. Perhaps I must keep closer watch over you.”

Laughter filled me as I thought back to the night Laoidheach spent with Brigid atop the fairy mound. “Very well.” I chuckled. “I shall wear the robe with pride to honor my gods. Yes, at the proper time, I shall wear it.”

She cocked her head and smiled. “Do you know who you are, my love? Do you realize what you’ve become?”

“Does it matter? I doubt any man can say he fully knows himself this side of Tír na nÓg. If I can say that I am the man who gained the Morrigan’s love, it is enough. Regardless, it seems an odd question when I sail with Brendan in just a few more days.”

“It is because of your sailing that we must talk, for there is much to tell you. The Lordly Ones are pleased with you, my love. Lugh also insisted I release you from your vow to sail with Brendan. You need not go. The decision rests with you.”

“Then it is a simple decision. I pledged to you that I would go with Brendan to ensure he does not reach Tir na nÓg. Nothing has changed about that. And haven’t you told me more than once I have no future here—that my destiny, whatever it may be, lies to the west? In truth, I am honored that Lugh chose to notice me, but I sail with Brendan.”

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