Thaumatology 11 - For Whom the Wedding Bells Toll Read online

  Ceri nodded. ‘It’ll cut a day off our travel time. All right, let’s do it.’

  ~~~

  Michael held up his hand, fist clenched, and Ceri and Lily came to an immediate stop, instantly alert. Ophelia looked confused, but her hand went to her dagger and she looked around, searching for any sign of danger. However, the “danger” was just Ishifa flying back from a quick scouting mission. Not dangerous, but the speed she was moving at suggested that she had found something they needed to be warned about.

  ‘There’s an encampment beside the road at the bottom of the pass,’ the fairy said. ‘I can’t be sure, but I think they’re Discord troops. They seemed to be all Sidhe.’

  ‘Any of the vargs?’ Michael asked.

  ‘Not that I saw.’

  ‘Okay. If we take it slowly and carefully we should be able to slip past them.’

  ‘Which side of the road?’ Ophelia asked.

  ‘West, but there’s not a lot of cover. It’s not going to be easy.’

  ‘We need a distraction then,’ Ceri suggested.

  ‘That would be useful,’ Michael agreed. ‘I could sneak in and…’

  ‘Oh no, I’m the fool who walks into camps to get captured. I think we can arrange something a little distracting for them without getting too close.’

  ‘You’re going to do something nasty to them, aren’t you?’ Ophelia asked, smirking.

  ‘You enjoy that far too much.’

  The camp was quite close to the road and, from what they could see, looked like a rather large merchant encampment. There were wagons and tents, and people milling about. No sign of trolls or huge wolves, but…

  ‘Merchants wouldn’t be camped up at this time of day,’ Ophelia said. ‘They must have been there for a couple of hours at least. With wagons they could have been over the pass and down into the palace.’

  ‘Not merchants then,’ Ceri said. ‘In which case…’ She raised a hand, focussing her will, and a foggy shape appeared beside them, quickly resolving into a huge, black bear. ‘It’s just an illusion, but it’ll give them something to worry about for a while.’ She looked up at the bear. ‘Run into the camp, make a lot of noise, rip up the tents, attack anyone you see. Go.’ The phantom bear rumbled deep in its throat and then set off down the slope at increasing pace.

  ‘That seemed like a pretty realistic illusion,’ Michael commented.

  ‘It’s solid to the touch, gives off a smell, makes noise, and I don’t need to control it, but it’s still just thaumic energy. Literally a magic trick.’

  The bear gave out a loud bellow and smashed into the first tent it came across. There was a scream from someone inside it, and suddenly various people were producing spears and swords and rushing about with far more energy than they had been.

  ‘Let’s move,’ Michael said, and they hurried down the pass, sticking close to the eastern edge. The bear was roaring at the top of its lungs and demolishing tents and people with gay abandon. Ceri was rather pleased with it, but there was no way it could last. Sooner or later the illusion would collapse and they needed to be out of sight by then. A last bellow sounded as they ducked into the cover of the cliffs on the eastern side of the pass, then nothing but the shouting.

  ‘The bear’s gone,’ Ceri said. ‘Ishifa, could you hang back to check they aren’t sending out search parties?’

  ‘Of course, Ceri,’ the fairy replied, letting go of Michael’s shoulder and vanishing as she rose into the air.

  ‘I’ll stay with her,’ Twill said, performing the same manoeuvre. She seemed to have got quite attached to her maid, but having both of them watching was probably better.

  ‘Give it fifteen minutes, and then come after us,’ Ceri added, hoping they heard her.

  The bigger people carried on, moving as quickly as the uneven ground would allow. They had got almost two miles away before the two fairies appeared above Michael’s shoulders and dropped down to land.

  ‘We were starting to get worried,’ the werewolf said to his passengers.

  ‘They did send out some searchers,’ Twill replied.

  ‘So we watched the ones coming this way to see how far they got,’ Ishifa went on.

  ‘They gave up about a mile back,’ Twill went on, ‘but they were suspicious. It’s possible that they will communicate what happened to Finvarra, if they can.’

  ‘But they don’t know who we are or where we were going?’ Ophelia said.

  ‘By now,’ Ceri said, ‘they’ll know we’ve left the palace. They may guess it was us, but they can’t know where we’re going, no. It’s possible they could guess…’

  ‘Another mile or so and we’ll be at the ley line,’ the Sidhe said. ‘Then it’ll be a matter of minutes to the temple.’

  ‘You call it a temple,’ Lily commented, ‘Titania described it as a shrine.’

  ‘She’s probably never seen it. There’s not much worship of the Morrigna these days. We haven’t had a war in four hundred years. The “shrine” is a low building set between two domed hills, the Chiocha na Teer Abail Riu, which is the “Breasts of the Morrigan.” However, there’s a far bigger structure under the shrine that was used by the worshippers for ceremonies. Most people paying lip service to the trinity just visit the shrine on top.’

  ‘Is there any chance of a hostile reception there?’ Michael asked.

  ‘I wouldn’t say there was no chance? We don’t know that Finvarra isn’t trying to do the same thing we are. Back when he was king they considered the patronage of the Morrigna pretty important to being a ruler, especially Morrigan herself.’

  ‘Great,’ Michael noted.

  ~~~

  Travelling through a ley line was always a rush, just not a particularly pleasant one. There was no way to breathe, and the world seemed to rush past in a blur and then snap into place around you. You felt as though you were about to crash into your destination, and then you ended up breathless and dizzy.

  Unless you were used to teleporting anyway; Ceri stepped out of the tunnel, caught herself from trying to fall over, and immediately started looking around. Ishifa swept up quickly to get a view from higher up, and Lily did a quick shoulder roll to recover her footing and drew her sai. The others stood around shaking their heads.

  ‘I hate doing that,’ Twill commented, her voice wavering a little.

  Ceri grinned; she knew the feeling, but she was busy checking her surroundings. They were, indeed, standing in the valley between two hills, but where hills called “The Breasts of” or “The Paps of” back on earth tended to be rounded hills or mountains which vaguely resembled a woman’s breasts, these ones looked as though some giant had lain down and had a shrine put down in her cleavage. The hills even had something of an overhang on the northern side; the girl had pert boobs.

  The shrine was basically a spire of dark rock, very gothic with lots of carefully carved ridges and spikes on each of its six edges. From this angle Ceri was guessing a little, but she could see a carved stone face set within the nearest side and she suspected there were two more spaced evenly around the thing. The other faces seemed to be blank stone, and there seemed to be no entrance which could be used to get underground.

  Ophelia straightened up from where she had been leaning over with her hands on her knees. ‘I hate that too. This way.’ She started off to the left, toward one of the hills. Twenty yards away, hidden behind some bushes, was a stone staircase which just dropped into the earth. ‘This is it. There’s a door about ten feet down. The temple is behind that. Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here recently.’

  ‘Plus one for our team,’ Ceri commented, starting down the steps.

  As soon as she was below ground level she summoned up a light. Darkness had not fallen yet, but the sun was low in the sky and there was little light in the stone-lined slit. The rock had not been finished well and there was no mortar between the stones, but there was also no space. They had clearly been cut by a master craftsman, with extreme precision, to look like they had b
een roughly hewn. The door at the bottom, when she got to it, was a huge slab of rock which looked like it weighed a couple of tons.

  ‘I think I’ll need some help opening this.’

  ‘No, just push,’ Ophelia told her.

  Ceri pushed and the door swung open as though it was as light as a feather. ‘Wow. There has to be some sort of counterweight system in there. For people who hate technology you’ve got some pretty clever technology.’

  ‘They were building stuff like this four thousand years ago on Earth. Egypt?’

  ‘Oh. Point, I guess.’ Ceri walked in down a short corridor which led into a circular chamber with three doors leading off it. ‘Which way?’

  ‘Well, the ceremonial chamber is straight ahead. I think the other doors lead to rooms the priests used to use, maybe storage rooms too. I came here once when I was twenty and it was out of use then.’

  ‘Okay.’ Ceri nodded. ‘You’re with me. Michael, Ishifa, check the left. Lily, Twill, take the right. Yell really loud if you find anything.’ As they split up, Ceri walked back to the main door and pushed it closed. ‘I don’t suppose we can lock this?’

  Ophelia shook her head. ‘I doubt it anyway. It was a public building, essentially.’

  Ceri nodded, lifting the foot of her staff to rest against the stone. A flicker of thought and the door was sealed. ‘That should hold it. Let’s take a look at this ceremonial room.’

  Behind the door, which opened as easily as the main one had, was a circular chamber perhaps thirty feet in diameter. The walls were decorated with carved Celtic Crosses opposite the door. To the right as they walked in were three statues of tall, beautiful women dressed in armour. A stone table on the left still had three goblets on it, obviously not valuable. There were also large, iron candle stands set around a central stone circle. The circle was slightly raised, and had a few symbols cut into the rock around it, but it was not magical, as such, just ceremonial. On the other hand it would be a good place to conduct a ritual if she needed to do one.

  She turned to look at the statues. They were all a little different, but there was a resemblance. Maybe that was just due to the artist’s preference in female face though. ‘Which one’s which?’

  ‘Huh? Oh… no idea. They were sisters, or metaphysical sisters. I never learned which statue was supposed to be which goddess, and the line-up changed depending on who you were talking to, like I said.’

  ‘Why did you come here?’

  ‘My father brought me here. We were travelling and he said he knew this great place. All scary and dark, y’know? I was a kid, I thought it was great.’ Ceri turned to give her a grin. ‘He used to do stuff like that. Take me on business trips, let me watch while he was negotiating deals. Always had interesting places to stop off and show me.’

  ‘He sounds like a great dad.’

  ‘He was. Then he got his throat slit over some stupid deal he’d made with the wrong person. I was fifty.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘You lost both your parents, and I had fifty years with my father. You had it much worse. It should be me that’s saying “sorry.”’

  Ceri gave her a weak smile. ‘That’s okay.’

  ‘Looks like private quarters for the priest,’ Michael said, walking into the room. ‘It’s dry and fairly warm, not a bad place to hole up for the night.’

  ‘And the other side looks like store rooms,’ Lily added. ‘There’s not much left.’

  ‘Some candles,’ Twill said. ‘A box of old robes which were rotted.’

  ‘Candles would be good,’ Ophelia said. ‘I’ll go get them. Better than keeping a spell going.’

  ‘Okay, then we need to try to figure out how to get those three to listen,’ Ceri suggested, looking at the statues.

  ‘Have you tried talking to them?’ Twill replied.

  ‘Uh…’ Well, it was worth a try. Ceri stepped forward and closed her eyes, focussing her energies within her core. Behind her, Lily let out a soft moan as Ceri’s draco-form physical fibres energised and stimulated the rune tattooed over her pet’s pubic mound. Ceri opened her eyes again; she could almost feel them glowing. How to start… ‘You came to me, in a dream. You said you could help if I chose it. Well, I don’t really have a choice now, so I’m choosing to let you help. I’m asking you to help… Help us. Please.’

  There was silence in the room, not even breathing, as they waited for an answer from the three statues. The room seemed to darken, as though the light was being drawn away, and the shadows on the stone face shifted. There almost seemed to be a voice calling out somewhere in the distance…

  ‘Hey! I said, “could someone give me a hand here”?’ Ceri sagged and they all turned to look at Ophelia as she struggled in through the door with three large boxes balanced one atop the other. The Sidhe blinked at the circle of scowling faces. ‘What?!’

  ~~~

  The priest, or whatever form of religious official had presided over the temple, had had three rooms, including a fairly simple bathroom. All the furniture had been stripped and there was no water, but being underground it was insulated from the cold night above. They had set up their bedrolls in the largest of the three rooms, the middle one, and it looked like it was going to be a comfortable night.

  ‘Do you think Finvarra has moved on the palace yet?’ Ophelia asked, her voice low. Somehow speaking at normal volume seemed wrong here. Everyone was using hushed tones, as though someone, or something, might hear them.

  ‘Yes,’ Ceri replied. ‘Or he’s moving at least. You can’t shift five thousand men as fast as we went, but I think he began preparing them to leave as soon as I teleported out of the camp.’

  ‘I would, in his position,’ Michael commented.

  ‘So, how do we contact the Morrigna?’ Ceri asked, though it was more of a muse than a question.

  ‘Well, you didn’t,’ Ophelia replied. ‘I mean, people would leave offerings and some would even pray before a battle, but you didn’t expect her to listen. When she wanted to, she would come to you.’

  ‘So we’re wasting our time?’ Lily asked.

  Ophelia shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Making the effort seems like a good idea.’ She looked over at where the two fairies lay tucked into some folded blankets.

  ‘I agree,’ Twill said. ‘Making an effort seems appropriate. They came to Ceri’s dreams and said she should call on them, so that implies that she has to call on them somehow. Perhaps we should sleep on it. Perhaps, here in their temple, they will come again.’

  Ceri nodded, it seemed logical, if logic could be applied to the actions of something like a god.

  ‘Should we stand watch?’ Michael asked.

  ‘I sealed the door,’ Ceri replied, ‘and I put an alarm spell on the outer door of these chambers. If anyone breaches this place I’ll be woken.’ She lay down and pulled her blanket up. ‘Let’s see what the morning brings.’

  ~~~

  She was floating, soaring, high above the plains at the foot of the Oighear Slaevte Tsale. Below her an army was moving and she was exultant. There had been little in the way of battle in four centuries, only minor skirmishes and foolish raids to keep her entertained.

  And this was an army! A huge mass of men, trolls, hags, even vargs, marching east toward the Summer Palace. The Seelie had always been over-confident, but centuries of never having to fight for their sovereignty had left them complacent. This army would teach them the error of their ways.

  Wheeling about, the world blurred below her and the walls of the palace appeared in view. Another army gathered outside those walls, far smaller than the one moving to assault it. When dawn came, these two forces would meet and Oberon’s true mettle would be tested. She doubted he had it in him to win, but he was not giving up, that was something. With the forces he had, however, she expected to see his head decorating a pole at the city gate before evening. Likely a better fate than Titania would have. Finvarra’s madness was a vicious one and the Queen, even if she took the field of battle, wou
ld feel the worst of it. The woman would wish for death long before it came.

  The ground blurred again and she was flying over the hills which bore her name. The mad king had received a report from his forces guarding the southern side of the Royal Pass and had known what was being done. The force he had dispatched to the temple was not large, but it would be sufficient to test those waiting for it…

  ‘Are you ready to decide, Ceridwyn?’

  Ceri turned, confused, and saw only shadow and the tall figure in it.

  ‘The time for your choice is coming on swift hooves. There will be a price. There is always a price. Are you willing to pay it?’

  ‘What price?’

  ‘You must give up your self.’

  Ceri frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘There must be three. Be ready.’

  Morrigan’s Temple, February 17th

  She was being shaken and, for a second, she did not know where she was, and why was someone calling for “Ceri,” and who was Ceri anyway… Oh, yeah, that’s me. Her vision swam into focus and she saw Michael and Lily looking down at her.

  ‘Ceri? Are you okay?’ Michael looked concerned.

  ‘Nightmares?’ Lily looked more worried. ‘You haven’t had nightmares in…’

  ‘It wasn’t a nightmare,’ Ceri said. Her voice sounded rough, she sat up and suddenly found one of the water bottles being pushed into her hands. Over Michael’s shoulder, Twill looked worried too. ‘Not exactly. I was… I guess I was Morrigan. I was flying over the armies. They’ll meet at dawn. Finvarra is already marching on the palace, like I said he would. He figured out we’re here. There’s a squad or so of his soldiers coming here for us.’

  ‘A squad?’ Michael said. ‘We can take a squad. We’ve got a highly defensible position here. They’ll be choked on the stairs. You blow them to shit and we mop up the survivors.’ He shook his head. ‘He’s not that stupid.’

  The sound of something heavy slamming into stone resounded through the temple. ‘They’re here,’ Ceri whispered. Without really thinking about it she shifted her perceptions, freeing herself from her body and moving quickly out through the wall and the packed earth around the temple, and then up to the surface. There were soldiers everywhere, Sidhe mostly, but she could see a couple of trolls and a varg. Walking over to the stairs, she looked down. A troll which was barely able to fit in the staircase was using a huge hammer like a battering ram as it tried to break through the stone door. The surface was already chipped. She snapped back to her body. ‘There must be a hundred of them up there. They’ve got a troll trying to smash the door down. The spell’s holding, but they’ll break through eventually.’