Born of Oak and Silver (The Caradoc Chronicles) (13 page)

“
If that weren’t enough, we found ourselves surrounded by these grotesque . . . winged . . . gargoyle-like creatures with black ichorous hides that were as hard as rocks, and a mouth of innumerable, needle teeth. We banded together, in hopes that if we were together, somehow we might be able to create some kind of a defensive attack. They launched themselves at us, either flying through the air or running on four fiercely taloned legs. The only saving grace we were permitted was fire and iron.

“
A few of us were able to link and create a dome of fire around us. This seemed to repel the beasts, saving the few of us that had been able to centralize together. Those who were outside of our blazing shield would find themselves caught up in the gargoyles’ teeth. Pressing their iron rings and bracelets against the creatures’ mouths would have the animals screaming bloodcurdling shrieks of pain, as smoke and ichor erupted from wherever they’d been touched by the iron. Our men would then be released and left to die upon the blood-soaked ground.

“
Those poor souls would drag themselves toward us with fear and desperate pleas for help bellowing from their mouths, their faces unutterable masks of terror . . . Gods help them. Those who had been held and pierced by those mouths of thousands of needlelike teeth suffered irreparable damage. It was too late that we learned the beasts’ saliva was a venomous poison. Men bled to death amid screams of agony, as an acidic residue burned through their veins. It rendered any aid we might have been able to give them entirely useless.”

It w
as at this time that Liam stood; the thick blanket that had been draped over his shoulders fell away. Under the blanket his upper body was completely bare. Multiple large lacerations had been crudely stitched with the Druid’s healing ointment generously slathered over the wounds. It would stave off infection as well as speed up the healing process. If his battle wounds were not a disturbing enough sight, the intricate, scrolling dark marks that sleeved his shoulders entirely were. His large hands trembled slightly as he gestured to them.

“These were not here yesterday morning
, Bramwyll,” Liam said somberly. “I feel I have been tainted, forced to dance with and be touched by Darkness. However I suppose when you call upon heaven’s aid, one must pay their own pound of flesh. If this is the price required to save the nine of us that remain, I am happy to have been able to pay it.”

At this, Bram stood and looked closely at the swirling marks that wound their way just under the iron torque etched with runes that hung around Liam’s large neck,
and down and across his shoulders.

“These marks are different than those that come naturally through Druidic rituals and stewardship. See the
pattern here,” Bram indicated. “This is the archaic symbol for the Sidhe, the Abjure. These patterns and the extent of their intricacy can only come from encountering the Fae and in risking all to resist them. Generally they only appear when against all odds you’ve managed to survive. Your assessment is correct—you have been touched by Darkness.” Bram closed his eyes briefly and nodded.

“Tell me,” he said w
hen he’d reopened them, “are there any others who are now thus marked?”

“Yes, all of us who remain now bear
them.”

The group of bedraggled wat
chmen remained uncommunicative despite their mention. It was obvious to us all that last night’s encounter had shaken these seasoned men greatly. None of us failed to notice their nervous glances made toward the sky, noting that soon it would be darkening. It made all of us shift uneasily where we stood.

Liam’s strong body gingerly lowered itself onto the stum
p he had been using for a stool. He reached down to retrieve his blanket from the ground and sheathed himself again with its warmth.

“That was not all
, Bramwyll,” Liam said, clearly exhausted. “We believed ourselves to be truly doomed. None of us had ever called and summoned the strength of fire for that length of time. As the hours passed, it took all of us to be able to keep it burning about us. Those gargoyles were continually circling on the ground and flying overhead, searching, always searching for any lapse in our shield.”

“
I do not believe that any one of us believed he would live to see another dawn. But, infinitesimally, the gods showed mercy and the night began to recede. With the light ever so gradually beginning to grow, so too did our hope. We dove and reached into the recesses of our souls to maintain our fire. Somehow, it held until the dawn had broken.

“
Just before the sun crested the horizon, the Silver again opened. Through the fire, and with all of our Druidic ability employed, this glimpse into Faery was painful . . . too unearthly to be appealing.”

Bram n
odded his head in silent understanding.

“While we
glanced into Fae, fearing what might come out of the Silver next, a voice . . . a voice like silken honey, or pure loveliness, spoke saying, ‘The Curse of the Four Fathers is now upon you’. As soon as she had finished speaking, the Silver began to tremble, and a loud, inharmonious noise that made you feel as if your skull might crack sounded from Faery. The creatures turned, and bounded away like loyal hounds to their master.

“Now, Bramwyll,
” Liam asked, “I do not know what ‘The Curse of the Four Fathers’ is—but it’s not referring to this, is it?” Liam asked quickly, allowing his blanket to slip to show the swirling marks on his shoulders.

Bram stroked his beard pensively, remaining silen
t while he stared into the fire. He was deep in troubled thought. He abruptly looked up and aside where he found me and stared at me with his all-knowing eyes. I knew that whatever the Curse entailed was now going to begin.

He
left his eyes on me while he addressed Liam’s question. “No, Liam. Your markings have no correlation to The Curse of the Four Fathers. That is another, and separate, matter entirely. Rest assured, my friend, I do not know what repercussions it will bring, but it is burden that only myself and another must bear directly.” His wild eyes looked me over, waiting for my acknowledgement of what he’d just said. I felt Cian’s eyes turn to look at me as well as he followed his grandfather’s line of sight. I did not look at him.

Bram
returned his attention to Liam and the others who now made up what was left of the Ben Bulben Guard. “Gentlemen, we have quite a momentous task ahead of us. Please, go and ready yourselves to the best of your ability. I will allow you a quarter of an hour to do so. We will reconvene here before we make our way to the standing stones atop Ben Bulben. Then, the task is ours to shatter the Silver—regardless of whatever else may be waiting,” Bram instructed us authoritatively.

We dispersed somberly, no one wanting to be
here any more than the next. I broke away from Bram and Cian to walk to my horse alone. Mechanically I went through the motions of preparing myself for a fight. I withdrew my daggers from my saddlebags, ensuring their sharpness before returning them to their scabbards. I strapped one at my ankle and another at my waist before beginning the mental checklist, assuring myself that all of my iron was in place. My torque hung coolly around my neck, the circlets around my wrists were both secure, and the sapphire ring around my finger thrummed a silent reassurance.

Inside I was a nervous wreck. N
ever had I been party to anything remotely as dangerous or complicated as this was likely to become. All of my apprenticeship had focused on mastering the elements, as well as healing the Earth and using its bountiful gifts for the purpose of man. Granted, Bram had insisted that I read a vast majority of the texts in the archives, stressing that their importance would undoubtedly come to mean more to me in the future. Evidently I had not read enough because I was entirely out of my league on this one. Of course, I had dealt with various minor Sidhe in my training—containing them, or transferring them mostly. But, shattering a Silver was unprecedented. I did not even know if it could be done.

I leaned against my horse and drummed my f
ingers on the saddle, trying vainly to center myself. My horse’s muzzle moved against my hand. I smiled, grateful for the carefree interruption. I again returned to my saddlebag to retrieve a pouch of oats for his perusal. When he had finished, I rubbed his neck, speaking words of comfort as much for his sake as for my own.

The moment was too short.
It was with great envy that I watched him as he turned away from me and trotted happily off to where many of the other horses now grazed on winter grass, far from any danger. It was at this time that I noticed Cian as he walked toward me. Despite the circumstances, he was remarkably jovial in nature and tone.

“Can you believe this!? I’m completely buggering out over it all. I don’t know whether to say my prayers or wet myself,”
he said in a completely serious voice, though he could not remove the amusement from his eyes.

I permitted him a small chuckle before conceding, “I was thinking much the same myself. How did you manage to draw out for this one
, Cian?”

“It was none of my doing. Grandfather thought that it would be
‘good practice and experience in the application and theory of ritual on a necessitated basis’. Or at least that is what he told me. Personally, I think he’s just ashamed at the thought of having one of his own still an apprentice, and anything he might do to speed along that process is fine by him. I’m just sorry to have to be at the receiving end of his determination. Now I know what it feels like to be you—and I can’t say I like it a bit.”

“Ha, yo
u have no idea.” This time I laughed and meant it. “Try living under his complete focus at least twenty years and then see how you like it. It is only then that you will have something to complain about—ye poor, wee lamb,” I mocked him, receiving a good-natured punch in the arm for my teasing.

“Oww, that was a good one!” I said while rubbing just below my shoulder.

“Serves you right, ‘ye poor wee lamb.’ Good thing I didn’t hit you any harder, or you wouldn’t be able to hold Brigid for a month.” He removed my father’s gray felt hat from my head and placed it on his own. His eyebrows waggled, managing the same expression his grandfather had given me in jest my whole life.

“In any case,” he added casually, “Grandfather i
nsisted on dragging me out here only to decide that it’s too dangerous for someone of my ‘skill and talent’. But yet he is again insisting—no, mandating—that I remain in camp to help those who are too wounded to aid the situation . . . or to defend themselves, for that matter. Of course, I am asserting my own adult decision-making prowess, and am ignoring his counsel entirely.” Cian looked at me, hoping for a reaffirmation indicating that he was justified in his determination to join us.

“Cian
. . .” I didn’t know what to say. In all honesty, I believed anyone who did not have to risk being present in an unknown, but sure to be dangerous, situation should most definitely avoid it at all costs. I paused, looking at the ground while struggling to think through the right thing to say. I decided that honesty would be best.

“Cian, Bram has the most experience of anyone in these types of situations. There is no one I’d lis
ten to concerning these matters but him. However, you are a man and can choose for yourself. Whatever it is that you decide to do, I will have your back indefinitely.” I offered him a reassuring smile.

“Good, it’s settled then,” Cian said with a large smile
of his own and a resounding thump on my back. Despite his slightly above average size, Cian was like an ox. I would never want to be on the other side of a fight of any kind where I stood against him. As it was, even a playful slap left me hunched over and coughing, slightly winded.

Righting myself t
o stare directly at Cian’s grinning face, I feigned a look of blatant menace. I sighed, shaking my head at my best friend’s sheer stubbornness, or stupidity, in deciding to ignore his grandfather’s council. Whatever it was, his presence was soothing and I breathed deeply of the crisp winter air. It was time.

“Come on, we wouldn’t want you to be late for your ‘experience in the application and theory of ritual on a necessitated basis’.”

He nodded, clearly amused, and together we strode quickly to the still blazing fire where the others would be gathering.

Cian and I both knew that we were extremely underqualified to be numbered among the ranks of such practiced masters. If anything, we were a liability to their objective instead of a benefit. Still we held our heads high and tried to pretend confidence in nothing else but ourselves.

“Why are Darragh and Gair not here?
” I asked Cian as we walked. “I would have thought that if there was anyone Bram would want by his side, it would most definitely be them.”

“They are in Gort,
” Cian said matter-of-factly. He turned his face to mine and whispered, sharing a secret that not many other people knew. “If you can believe it, they’re investigating the possibility of a Nuckelavee.”

I stared at him momentarily in disbelief.
If a Nuckelavee had managed to come through a Silver, things were much worse than what I knew. The problem with the Silvers was that not only did they open randomly, but we also did not know where all of them were. It was no wonder that Bram was on edge.