Thaumatology 11 - For Whom the Wedding Bells Toll Read online

  ‘Shit!’ Ophelia sounded panicked. ‘What do we do?’

  ‘Ceri can teleport us out,’ Lily replied calmly. ‘They think they have us trapped. We can get out easily.’

  ‘But then Finvarra wins,’ Ceri said.

  ‘What then? We can’t fight them.’

  ‘We can’t, no…’ You have to give up your self. ‘The Morrigna can, but there’s a price.’ There must be three. ‘They’ll come, but… I think they need vessels.’ She looked up at Lily and then Ophelia. ‘Three vessels for a triple goddess, and it would have to be willingly.’

  Ophelia looked back at her, obviously scared. ‘He’ll win otherwise, won’t he?’ Ceri nodded a reply. ‘All right. It’s my world he’s going to turn into Hell, but you two, you don’t have to do this.’

  ‘We let him out of his cage,’ Lily said. ‘I feel a certain responsibility, even if I didn’t have much choice at the time.’

  ‘Let’s get some clothes on before we have to fight our way to the ritual chamber,’ Ceri said.

  ~~~

  The candles were lit in the stands and Ceri was dressed in her “witch-seductress” outfit which felt somehow appropriate. She doubted she was going to be doing any fighting, as such. Looking impressive was the order of the day. Goblets were set around the circle on the floor, each filled with water, which was supposed to be a conduit for spirits but Ceri was basically making this up as she went along.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ Michael asked, keeping his voice quiet; Ophelia was freaked enough as it was.

  ‘No. I don’t see that we have much choice. You think we should run?’

  ‘I’ve never backed out of a fight where I had a tactical advantage. You don’t know what this will do to you.’

  Ceri looked into his eyes. ‘Just… Just be there for us when it’s over.’ She gave him a weak grin. ‘And get into fur.’

  Ishifa flew in from the hallway, red light flickering around her. ‘There’s a big crack in the door. We’ve got… seconds maybe.’

  ‘Okay, you’re with Twill. Stay out of sight.’ She stepped into the circle, facing outward, her toes almost touching one of the goblets, and tried to put as much confidence as she could into her voice. ‘Let’s do this, ladies!’

  Lily and Ophelia took their places beside the other goblets. Reaching back, they found each other’s hands. Ceri glanced at Michael, already a big, grey-furred wolf-man, and saw the worry in his amber eyes. Her fingers squeezed the hands she was holding and she looked up, focussing her power, drawing it in and then forcing it out from her own core to Lily and Ophelia. She heard a gasp from both of them and spoke. ‘We call upon the Morrigna in this time of need. Come to us, we are your willing vessels. Come to us and feel the thrill of battle once again. Come to us…’

  The light in the room seemed to sink away, the candlelight dimming to pin-pricks. There was something there with them, something huge and old, and terrible. It surrounded them and entered them, and the world receded away until it was nothing but a distant memory…

  ~~~

  Ceri let out a sharp cry and the candles flared brilliantly. In the goblets the water boiled and spilled out onto the floor. Then the three women straightened their backs and Michael could see their eyes. Ceri’s shone blue with almost no pupil and the irises larger than normal. Lily’s pupils burned red, but there was no sign of the auras she normally projected. Ophelia’s black eyes were darker, deeper; bottomless pits into eternity.

  There was a loud crash from outside the chamber; the door had gone. Ceri raised her head and laughed, and then looked to Ophelia. The black-haired Sidhe moved forward smoothly as the door to the chamber was slammed open and a troll with a huge war-hammer stepped through… And stopped in his tracks. Ophelia just stood there, looking up at the huge creature, and then raised her arms. The troll turned and bolted, and there were screams as Sidhe doing their best to run from the temple themselves were crushed by their compatriot in his haste to escape the woman with the black eyes. Ophelia followed them, walking, a slight smile on her face as she routed the troops.

  Ceri turned her head to her right. ‘Macha, assist our sister.’

  Lily nodded, drawing her sai. She looked down at the weapons, shrugged, and ran out into hallway. Soon there were more screams. These ones ended suddenly, often in gurgling sounds.

  Twill and Ishifa flew forward from the shelter of the crosses at the back of the room. ‘Ceri?’ Twill said, and Ceri turned her burning blue eyes on the fairy.

  ‘Anann, known as the Morrigan. Ceridwyn is… within me. She has much compassion for you, Lady Gloriandel. She would see you safe and I have use for you. Tell Oberon that we come.’ She raised her hand.

  ‘Wait…’ Twill began, but Anann flicked her wrist, Ceri’s wrist, and the two fairies vanished.

  Anann turned to Michael. ‘Ceridwyn has much love for you too, warrior, but she knows you would never leave her at a time like this. You will be my champion.’ Her hand rose again, and Michael felt her power filling him. He raised his head and howled as wild, untamed, raw power filled his muscles. ‘Now, we go.’ Michael charged out ahead of her, almost lost in the feeling of animal rage.

  There were beheaded Sidhe littering the entrance hall, blood pooled everywhere. Somehow Lily, or Macha, was cutting men’s heads off with weapons which had no edge, but then again she was an embodied goddess, she could probably do as she wished. Michael rushed on, up the stairs and into the open air; the open air which tasted better than he had ever felt. His senses were heightened, he felt as though he could see, and hear, and smell everything, but what he wanted now was to taste blood and if he did not hurry Macha would have beaten him to all the Discord soldiers.

  The Morrigan walked up the stairs behind him, revelling in the thrill of the men dying in combat around her. Her staff flicked out as she got to the top of the stairs, lifting a rock from the ground and driving it through the skull of a man thirty yards away. She laughed, and turned to see another of the Sidhe, suspended off the ground by Badb, her third sister. She was holding him by the throat, without apparent effort, as he struggled and fought. Her hand clenched and the struggling stopped. Macha was wading through Finvarra’s soldiers like some sort of natural disaster, and now her wolfen champion was busy sinking fang and claw into flesh.

  A scream brought Anann’s attention to a Sidhe running at her, almost crazed with fear, brandishing a sword. She smiled warmly at him and her staff rose to meet his swing. ‘Good,’ she told him. She blocked another swing, deflected a stabbing thrust at her chest, teased him as he hacked at her uselessly. ‘Your tenacity is worthy of reward.’ She was not even working hard to keep him off her. ‘I give you the honour of a good death.’ The staff flicked out and his sword flew skyward. His eyes widened just before Anann’s staff swung around and smashed the side of his head in.

  Anann lifted her head and let out an exultant howl of her own. This was going to be a good day!

  ~~~

  ‘Wait…’ There was the lurching dizziness of teleportation and the world changed around them. ‘Well, damn that bitch to Hell and back!’

  ‘Lady Gloriandel?!’ Twill turned in the air to find Oberon and Titania behind her. Anann had transported them directly to the royal chambers, it seemed. A half-naked Oberon was strapping on armour, but Twill was far too angry to take in the view.

  ‘It’s Twill,’ Twill snapped. ‘Gloriandel Wintergreen is a name which has brought me nothing but trouble. I was happy as Twill.’ She took in the surprised faces; royalty was likely not used to having an angry fairy tirade directed at them. ‘My apologies, but I’d rather be called Twill. Really.’

  Titania nodded. ‘I believe I understand your displeasure. Your parents have presented us with a petition for leniency for you on the grounds that they still wish you to marry Briarin Darksun.’

  ‘That little snot,’ Twill spat. ‘I’d rather have my wings clipped off.’

  ‘If we survive the next few hours,’ Oberon said, ‘I believe I have a s
olution to your situation which you will find accommodating. Frankly, however, I doubt any of us will be alive to worry about it.’

  ‘Ah, well, that’s why we’re here.’ The fairy settled onto the back of a nearby chair, Ishifa settling beside her looking uncomfortable about being around half-dressed royalty. ‘Ceri made contact with the Morrigna. Fight and they’ll fight with you.’

  Titania’s eyes narrowed. ‘And you were sent to give us the news, but what of your companions?’

  ‘Michael I’m not sure about, but he’s a warrior, I’d imagine Anann would like him with her. The others… the goddesses needed bodies to walk around in. They had some of Finvarra’s men to deal with at the temple, then I’d imagine they’ll be coming here.’

  Reaching out and picking up a heavy, studded leather jerkin, Oberon said, ‘Then I’d better get out there and put on a show for them. The gods help those who help themselves.’

  ~~~

  Oberon’s army had the slight advantage of higher ground. Finvarra’s forces had marched up from the west, and slightly south, of the palace and so were coming up from the plains. The advantage in numbers was clearly with the Discord army, however. At Twill’s estimation Oberon had just less than half as many troops. Finvarra seemed to have sent off quite a chunk of his forces on other business, likely a sweep around to come at the back of the palace down the Royal Pass, and to capture his intended queen at Morrigan’s Temple. There were still over four thousand men moving in against no more than two thousand.

  Standing up on the battlements of the city wall, Twill could see why Oberon had chosen to go out to meet Finvarra. The walls were impressive, but poorly planned for defence. She recalled Ceri saying something about it at some point while they sat around the fire, and now she could see what she had meant. The towers along the walls did not effectively cover the ground between them and had significant blind spots, and if the walls were breached the invading forces would have free run of the streets.

  The few guards left with the queen had looked a little askance when Titania had insisted on standing on one of the western towers with two common fairies, but her expression had been one which suggested she could manage quite well after beheading two or three guards with the long, very silver, very enchanted sword she had slung at her hip.

  ‘I should be down there,’ Titania said, angry worry in her voice. ‘I fought alongside him when we defeated Sreng. I’m not helpless.’

  ‘Your husband wanted you safe, if he wins,’ Twill replied. ‘And if he doesn’t, you’ll get to fight. We all will.’

  Titania gave the fairy a weak smile. ‘You’ve courage and will far beyond your size, Mistress Twill.’

  The fairy shrugged. ‘I was bred to it, though I think my parents might have wished for a less pig-headed daughter. Ishifa here is the courageous one.’ Ishifa looked around, surprised.

  ‘No,’ Titania replied, ‘don’t sell yourself short, if you’ll pardon the pun. But you have the right of it there too. You’re a maid, are you not, Ishifa?’ The fairy maid nodded dumbly, still a bit awed to be standing with a queen. ‘And of common parents, farmers I’m told, and yet you stand up to defend the honour of a noble lady accused of murder, and you stand beside your mistress in battle against assassins and trolls. Is that not courage?’

  Ishifa looked up at the fairy queen with her halo of blonde hair and let out a squeak, then cleared her throat and tried again. ‘My father always told me that you have to fight for what you think is right, Highness.’

  ‘Your father is a wise man.’ Her gaze shifted back to the battlefield and her face grew serious. ‘It’s beginning.’

  Twill looked down and saw what she meant. Among the front ranks of Finvarra’s army there was a lot of movement. Something was happening, that was certain, but she could not make out what it was until the first column seemed to rip away from the main body of the army and resolve into a hundred or more vargs. Arrows arced out from the palace side, raining down on the charging beasts, but they seemed to have no effect at all, and a few seconds later a wall of trolls began to advance. Below them, a shiver ran through the army at the sight advancing rapidly on them.

  The huge wolves were halfway across the open space between the armies when Ishifa yelled, ‘What’s that?!’ They looked to where she was pointing, toward the foothills of the mountains in time for what she had seen to become obvious. It was as though a huge grey wave with flecks of black in it, was charging down from the hills. ‘The wolves,’ Ishifa said. ‘The wolves have come to help.’

  The tidal wave of wolves charged down, largely unnoticed by the two armies until they rolled into the side of the charging vargs. The eastern edge twisted around, down the line of battle, and then turned to meet the bigger animals head on. The vargs were far bigger, meaner, and more of them were fae in nature, but the wolves had them on numbers. Still, it was going to be a hard fight and the trolls were coming up from the rear.

  ‘Oberon,’ Titania said into the air, knowing her husband would hear her, ‘help them.’

  A horn sounded below and there were shouts which were not quite decipherable. Troops who had looked shaky a moment earlier charged forward, swords and spear-points glinting in the early sunlight as they rushed in to fight alongside the wild animals who had come to do battle for them.

  ‘Finvarra will commit now too,’ Titania murmured. ‘If we’re going to get help, we’ll need it soon.’

  Twill looked upward and saw the black birds circling high in the air above them. ‘It’s coming,’ she said.

  ~~~

  Oberon charged forward, barely having to lean down to slice his sword down into the neck of a varg. He risked a quick look around, checking the flow of the battle. The vargs had been hoping for shock to do half their work for them as they ran at the defending troops and the arrival of the wolves had turned that shock against them. It was not going all their way, but most of the giant wolves were down and the trolls who had been marching forward with determination had faltered. A lone wolf, even a small pack, was no match for a troll, but this looked like every healthy wolf in the mountains had come down to help Oberon, and the hoped-for loss of morale had turned to new determination.

  It was time to press the advantage. ‘Onward!’ Oberon yelled and charged toward the trolls, sheathing his sword and pulling a spear from a mount on his saddle. The other mounted Sidhe heard their king’s rallying cry and followed suit. The trolls stumbled to a halt as a wave of cavalry, backed up by wolves, started toward them.

  As he buried his spear in a troll’s chest, Oberon looked up and saw the remainder of Finvarra’s army charging forward across the lush grass. Now it was going to get really bad.

  ~~~

  Twill felt Titania tense beside her. The queen’s fist gipped the hilt of her sword like it was holding her to the stone of the tower.

  ‘Here they come,’ Titania said, her voice a hushed whisper. ‘Be strong, my love.’

  ‘Look,’ Twill said, almost in reply. She was pointing upward at the black birds circling over the battle. They were turning faster now and there seemed to be far more of them. As they watched, the cloud of black swept downward, twisting and wheeling in a tightening circle, and then driving down toward the earth between the two armies as three columns of black. The whirlwinds seemed to slam into the ground and then collapse in on themselves, and a hush descended, spreading out across the soldiers and the trolls left standing.

  Standing in the field, their backs to Oberon’s army, were three women standing about a hundred yards apart. A werewolf crouched on the ground beside the middle of the three and he raised his head and howled, soon joined by the wolves behind him.

  The Morrigna had arrived.

  ~~~

  A lone rider came forward from the ranks of Finvarra’s army, clad in black and wearing the horned helmet. He halted twenty yards from the figure of Ceridwyn Brent, possibly because of the quite audible growl which emanated from the wolf-man beside her.

  ‘Lady Ceridwyn Brent,
’ Finvarra called out, his voice hollowed by the mask, ‘you are a powerful sorceress and a clever woman, but you stand between two armies. You cannot stop this. Please allow me to have you escorted from the field to safety. I’d not have my queen harmed.’

  Anann let out a bark of a laugh and Finvarra’s horse shied backward a step before he could pull it under control. ‘I’ve no intention of stopping anything, Finvarra mac Manannan, and I’m certainly not leaving this field.’

  The dark helmet turned left and right, taking in Lily and Ophelia, and then moving back to Ceri. ‘Morrigan. You side with the fool behind you?’ His voice held anger. ‘I bring you battle. I bring you war. I am the one who will take the realm of Earth again in your name.’

  ‘In my name?’ Anann replied. ‘Neither of you have thought of us in long years. We should let you tear each other apart and then feast upon the entrails of the victor. But a human sorceress, a half-demon, and a fae disgraced by your treachery have given themselves to see the tide of this battle turned, and Oberon at least shows bravery instead of hiding behind a mask and skulking in shadows.’

  Oberon drew up beside her, opposite Michael, his sword resting across his saddle. ‘I thank you for the compliment, Lady.’

  She did not look at him. ‘Not that you have a choice. These women show more spirit than either of you. No, Finvarra, I will not be stopping this battle. This ends here. Oberon rules and if he shows he has the right to then I consider your challenge an affront to my judgement four hundred years ago. If he shows it…’