Chapter VIII
The Megaliths of Druidier
They rode on throughout that day going deeper and deeper into the wilds; the Crystal Peaks were fortunately becoming more distant, and could barely be seen behind them. By that evening they were convinced that nobody was tracking them. Perhaps the Nashvilly fear of travelling too far from home had prevailed, and they had simply given up the chase, or perhaps those that had conspired against them had acted on their own initiative and without the support of others. Whatever the reason, Achil felt confident enough to set up a camp that night, in an old abandoned settlement they had come across.
The homes were nothing more than ruined broken shells. Nature had taken back what had originally belonged to her a long time ago. They found the remnants of an ancient building which afforded them shelter on three sides and set a small fire at its heart to help chase away the shadow that still hung over their recent visit with the Nashvilly. When the embers of the fire began to die, Achil added more brush and wood. The new dusty earthy environment was in sharp contrast to the Nashvillies pristine world, they felt comfortable enough in their new surroundings to laugh and joke once more. They considered the people in the mist to be nothing more than a bad dream. Nishga became more at ease in the rougher more earthy surround, it was she thought more like the life she knew and understood: it was more part of her world, but to be sure having food in her stomach helped refresh her spirits.
The moon was now at its height, giving a more than eerie illumination to the scene of shadow puppets that bounced off the walls, given life by flickering playful flames. The two of them stared at the fire quietly before settling down to gaze up at the stars. Embraced by fatigue there eyes slowly began to close. Just as Achil drifted off, there was a sudden distant howl that startled the two of them awake. Achil rose on his haunches, silently gesturing for Nishga to remain where she was while he went to investigate what manner of creature made such a harrowing sound. He had felt the call was too distant to worry about, when there was another, much closer cry, and this time it echoed around the ruins and was followed by a deep guttural panting. Achil picked up a lit branch from the fire. He told Nishga to put more kindling on it, to rouse the flames. And with his sword drawn in one hand, and a wooden torch in the other, he made his way out of the ruined building and onto the old cobbled road, which was now covered by heather and weeds. In front of him crouched in the middle of what must have been once the main thoroughfare was a large Wolf. Its teeth were long and sharp as daggers, its eyes were fermented with anger, and yet there was something strangely familiar about them, something recognisable. Its claws were evil looking spikes. The Wolf howled once more, its breath hot, rancid, and cruel, it began to circle Achil. Achil kept the creature within the glow of the flame, its shadow following on behind like some hellish demonic spirit. Lunging forward, he thrust the torch into the creature: it jumped back with a snarl and gnashed its teeth together, and then gave out a sinister wail before turning to flee. And after it did so it cast its eyes back a moment. There was a malevolent look framed across its face, it turned and disappeared into the night. It was a scout and would now fetch the rest of the pack.
Achil retreated to find Nishga clutching at her Crystal ready to unleash its power, “We had better leave," he shouted. "That wolf did not have the look of a creature frightened by what it saw, more like the look of something that had just seen its next meal, there's something else, and this may sound crazy, but the eyes, I'd swear they were the same as that of the Nashvilly I fought.”
"First Shapeshifting Bears and now Shapeshifting Wolves, this is the strangest of adventures," cried Nishga.
They packed their things together and fled into the night. Behind them they heard the echoes of distant howls. They were sure that a pack of hungry Wolves was now pursuing them. And they did not wish to find out whether they were unnatural or not. They raced across the plain once more fleeing a hostile foe. Nishga every so often would desperately look back to see if they were being pursued as they went. But still there was nothing. They did not realise that the chase for them had ended once they had entered the land of Druidier, in that land there were things that even Wolves and for that matter the Nashvilly feared. They continued forward, anxiety seeping into their core. The terrain had altered in the night, as they now entered the country of the Wraith. Wherein were remnants of a dead people and much more, they were apparitions of a conflict long forgotten. The land needed to be exorcised from the demons of its past, but there had been no one willing or simply brave enough to do it.
Nishga instantly sensed something evil about the place, she tried to warn Achil, but found that she could not explain what it was that was truly troubling her. He thought her apprehension unfounded and more likely it was due to their recent encounter with the Wolf, which would have unnerved anyone. He told her that once they had left that place, any fear or trepidation would pass, especially once they reached the Mighty Megaliths of Druidier. Nishga still was not comforted by that thought, her eyes nervously darted from side to side until she was asked not to do so by Achil; she would then surreptitiously glance back to see if they were being followed. The horses appeared also ill at ease, but as the sun began to rise lifting the dark veil away from the cool night; all began to feel more secure, more sure that the Wolves were not giving chase.
That day they past the remnants of an old hill fort which was barely visible except for a few standing stones that from far off looked more like a rocky outcrop. By midday they came upon an ancient stone that marked the site of a long forgotten battle. There was a strange scrawl on it, which was unrecognisable. There was also a form cut into the stone which had been smoothed away by wind and rain, they could just make out the head of a Dragon. Achil stared at it and thoughtfully nodded to himself, how many lives had been lost on that lonely battlefield long ago, how many kingdoms had turned to dust since such a thing had been placed there as a monument to the fallen. And now the only tribute left was an old broken stone. The two rode on past craggy rock and grassy knoll, across open meadow and wooded hillock.
They did not rest until the evening and then they only stopped briefly. The fear of the Nashvilly and the Wolves was replaced by strange ancient Tors, and mounds of the dead. Nishga felt a new unease seep into her. There was something about these unnatural hills that filled her with dread. Mounds littered the countryside as far as the eye could see. They were clearly burial chambers of some sort, but what was truly unnerving, was how many of them there were. They passed them unnoticed, not realising the concealed threat of the wraiths, soon the moon became their guide, preventing them from being absorbed into the dark, and as they were about to leave that place. Achil chose that moment to change his bandage. The old one he threw aside. It landed on one mound. And without their noticing the blood stained cloth seemed to melt into the ground.
From that same mound a vapour rose to take shape and form. Nishga saw the Wraith as it stood above its mound; it gave out a harrowing shriek as one in pain. Chilling them to the bone and from the surrounding mounds other wraiths slowly appeared. They stood there for a moment and then began to close round the two impostors, invaders to their dark realm.
Achil turned to Nishga, “This is bad, this is very bad, you know I told you to only use your powers when really necessary. It's really necessary.”
Nishga looked shocked, “I don’t think I can."
Achil pressed her, “You must try."
Nishga concentrated hard, the crystal around her neck began to glow and pulse with energy. Light seemed to emanate from it, bathing everything nearby in a bright sharp intense flash. It was as though a wave of light had swept over the Wraiths forcing them back. Nishga held her Crystal aloft, which absorbed the starlight compressing it and then magnifying it back out. The Wraiths stood at the edge of the light not daring to enter less they be consumed by it, their tormenting empty cries, a sign of their impotence, in preventing their prey from escaping. Nishga and Achil slowly made their way
out from that foul wretched place. Her strength of will was such that even in the presence of such determined malice her courage did not falter.
By the morning they were beyond the reach of the Wraiths. And being free of them they stopped awhile to make a small fire. Achil made something to eat from what the wilds would provide. Nishga fell asleep, the exertions of the past few days having weighed heavily on her. Achil chose to let her rest, he sat close to her, reflecting on everything they had done and seen; the battles, continually being chased, the discovery of Mead raiders, who were undoubtedly up to no good, and all just to get to the Dragon people, to arrange trade and more importantly, if possible an alliance, and this because of some growing menace from the central plains. An empire that had appeared from seemingly nowhere: ‘The Mandrake.’
Achil tore at some grasses as his mind raced with the dilemma of the Mead; if only his people had cared enough to treat with them before they had encountered the Imperium, instead of leaving them hungry and destitute, an uneducated band of raiders and bandits. Perhaps they would not then have need of alliances and Findolin would not live beneath the shadow of the peril it faced. They had always dealt with the Mead in a manner befitting such savage uncultured brigands. When such peoples had sought to trade with the Finns they were rebuffed as in the main they offered up little by way of material value. And now they were paying for that short sightedness. Achil sat back, his mind ill at ease, had they brought this on themselves, even the wisest among them had not shown enough foresight to realise that they were treating the people of Mead harshly; and so they could have fermented the reaction they were now getting. The problem the Finns had had was that they suffered from overconfidence, and that left them complacent and for the most part too self-indulgent. These traits were sadly coming back to haunt them; perhaps, in principle, they were not so different from the Nashvilly after all.
While sleeping, Nishga stretched out her arms, and slapped Achil full in the face. Achil edged himself beyond her reach, and realising how tired she was, he did not really want to wake her, but it was late afternoon, the sun had crept across the sky and they did need to be on their way. He gently nudged her. She quietly stirred and then opened her eyes jumping to her feet. Achil watched both bemused and concerned at the same time.
“Are you alright?” asked Achil calmly.
She shied away, “I’m okay, though the past few days have unsettled me a little bit.”
Achil looked troubled, “Only a little bit. With everything going on; it’s a wonder you’re in any shape to travel at all. Learning to use a new power, being chased first by Witches then finding out you could be one. Then finding out you have something in common with the Nashvilly only to be chased away by them. Then there are the Wolves or whatever they were, and finally the Wraiths, no can’t see anything there that would be unsettling.”
Nishga smiled for the first time in what seemed an age. Soon enough they packed their things away had a quick meal and were on their way. That afternoon they drew closer to the Megaliths, they could see them in the distance. They were more than standing stones it was as though they were the pillars of the Gods, standing upright, so silent, so still, as though they were waiting with a patience that had no end; the sentinels of eternity. It was not known who put them there; some said it was done by the Gods, hence the name given to them. Others that there had been some battle before time began. The outcome of which had led to the megaliths. An army of giants turned to stone.
When they drew closer it was apparent Nishga was disappointed.
“Achil,” said Nishga. “You said the megaliths were as many as the stars in heaven. I admit they cover the plain but they’re not as far as the eye can see.”
Achil shrugged and smiled knowingly.
When they finally reached the Megaliths they found they were more impressive, more striking, close too. They rode in and out of them marvelling at their size. Giant stones some of which had fallen to ruin, stood in their path. Grasses clung to their sides like little children. And the colours, grey, white, black, some even had a reddish hue, which added to their mystery. Achil also noticed they seemed to pattern the stars. They were half way across the plain, when from behind two of them stepped two cloaked figures, as though they had appeared through some unseen doorway.
The figures both old men, whose beards reached down to their waists did not seem threatening, and regarded the two strangers with mild curiosity. Both were leaning on staffs and both seemed vital and strong as though the staffs were not an aid for walking, but had some other purpose. They stood proudly in front of Achil and Nishga, and looked them up and down, as if gauging them.
One of them slowly and with a deliberate step moved in front of the other, raised his staff above his head and began to speak.
“I am Marlin and this is Purlin. We are the guardians of the Megaliths that you see all around you, we are very pleased that you have come. If you wish to pass then you may do so, but only after you’ve successfully taken three tests, one for endurance, one for courage, and one for intelligence.”
Achil leant forward so as not to be overheard, “Let's just ride on.”
They both spurred their horses forward going beyond the two figures.
“Where are you going?" asked Purlin, obviously bemused by their attempt to leave.
Then one of them tapped his staff on the floor. Megaliths appeared in front of the two riders preventing them from going any further, and every time they tried to go round one, another would simply appear and prevent their passing. With their way barred they found themselves back where they began. Marlin turned to Purlin with a wry smile.
”I don’t think they’re going to pass the intelligence test you know,” said Marlin.
Purlin nodded ruefully, his robe fluttering behind him in the breeze.
Achil realising that they were in an awkward situation, dismounted his horse and approached the two guardians.
“See here, we just want to be on our way,” rebuked Achil. “And besides, what happens if we fail the tests?”
The Guardian began to tap his staff on the ground, “Should you fail these tests you will take our places as the Guardians of the Megaliths, until after a millennium when you will also be allowed to seek others to replace you."
Achil and Nishga looked at each other.
“Sorry we're busy we’ve actually got other plans, so thank you for your offer, but we'd rather be on our way,” replied Achil.
Nishga began to concentrate, as she did so her crystal began to glow. She raised her hands and between them a coil of light appeared.
Marlin once more began to tap his staff on the ground.
“I’m afraid,” said Marlin. “You will find your powers limited here.”
Nishga did indeed find that. The light that had appeared between her hands seemed to be snuffed out like a candle in the wind. She turned to Achil shrugged and ruefully shook her head; it was of no use they would have to trust to their wits. Purlin began to tap his staff on the ground. The four disappeared only to reappear by the side of a river. Achil was one side of it, Nishga the other.
Marlin stood by its edge and began to explain how things were to proceed.
“This is a test of endurance,” said Marlin. “You simply have to cross the river to get to your friend.” He smiled as though he had invited both of them to a picnic.
Achil smiled and grunted, thinking such a task simple enough. He could see Nishga dubiously sitting on the other bank. Wading into the cold water he began to swim across, but the current was too strong. The harder he swam, the stronger the current became, before long he gave up and let the current push him back to the river's edge. He climbed out, and sat contemplating what to do next. Looking around, there were some fallen trees and a mixture of small and large boulders scattered in no particular order, all lying close by. The river also had long reeds at both sides. It ran at a shallow gradient, too wide to jump and too long to go around. The current was a strange one on the surface it lo
oked pacified yet beneath it appeared angry, so there was the quandary, how should he cross it?
Achil pushed one tree into the water and tried to swim across using it as a raft. As hard as he paddled, he could not make any distance. The flow kept driving him back. At one point the tree he clung to rolled over and submerged him altogether, he fought to brake free but was caught by the branches; and if it was not for the fact that the tree kept rotating he would have probably drowned, it felt like an age before he was free of it, and before he managed to scramble back to the river bank, still on the wrong side.
The next thing he tried was to see if he could build a small bridge across the river. This time he rolled a small tree to it and pushed it in. Then he got one small boulder and began to thump it into the river bed. He repeated this exercise with some success before calamity struck, the entire structure collapsed. One of the tree trunks freed itself with such force that it shot Achil out of the water. Cart wheeling him through the air and back onto the river's edge, once again on the wrong side.
He sat there breathing heavily wondering what to do next. Perhaps he thought by dropping boulders in one at a time, a bridge might be made, for him to walk across. Unfortunately as Achil began to gather together the boulders, he realised there were not enough for his purposes.
In desperation Achil waded into the river and pulling out a reed as he went and making sure both ends were clear of mud, he used it as a breathing apparatus. The river moved slower the deeper he descended, until he actually touched the river bed. Helped by the unbending shape of the reed, Achil walked across using it to breathe through, Achil had taken a risk and it had paid off. Soon enough he was on the other side.
The Guardians seemed impressed, and tapping their staffs on the ground in unison, their surroundings began to change and alter. Achil found himself in a large arena at his feet were his sword and shield. Nishga was once more tied to a pole: she shook her head in disbelief, why was it that every other person she met wanted to hold her captive? The two looked at each other perplexed and puzzled by the change of scene. What was in store for them this time? There was a large gate at one end of the arena which slowly opened. Out of it charged a Kappa, it had a similar body to an ape with large protruding fangs, talons on the ends of its fingers. It was as tall as a man. It was riding on a chariot being pulled by harpies, half women, half vulture creatures, extremely savage looking beasts.
Achil without hesitation picked up the shield and sword. Nishga screamed to be released but every time he tried to break her bonds they simply joined back together again. There was nothing for it but to fight. The Kappa leapt from his chariot, raised sword in hand. The sword plunged straight through Achil’s shield, from behind it; he saw the blade almost pierce him. He tossed his shield aside. The Kappa withdrew, roaring its disapproval that its initial lunge failed to secure it a quick victory and meal. It now unbridled the Harpies. The odds had altered, four to one, with Achil still needing to defend Nishga. There was only one thing he could do; he advanced on the Kappa to meet its threat. He swung his sword round as if to strike at the Kappa but missed it and instead sliced into one of the Harpies. It shrieked and backed off.
Typically of such creatures and just as Achil had suspected from the other Harpies, they turned on the wounded one and tore at its body so as to rip the flesh from it. While they were preoccupied with their meal, and while the Kappa was distracted trying to restrain them Achil took the opportunity to get behind the creature, and with a single thrust to its midriff, killed it instantly. The two remaining Harpies flew off and out of the Arena. Achil went over to try to break Nishga’s bonds, this time they did snap. The two Guardians appeared surprised by the speed of his triumph. They tapped their staffs once more and the surroundings altered again.
This final test was the one Achil had feared the most, the test of intelligence. Marlin made no secret of the fact that he felt sure Achil would not be able to complete the final task as he said his previous victories had been more to do with luck than anything else. The scene changed once more, there in front of Achil, balanced on a jagged rock was a plank of wood with two large stones at each end. The test was simple enough, to remove one stone without unbalancing the other.
Achil stood and stared at the stones mulling over in his mind how best to pass this last test. He then sat down and stared at the stones balanced in front of him, and after a while he lay back and stared at them, but still the answer eluded him. The Guardians waited patiently. Achil pondered the task over in his mind; finally he walked over to the plank, drew his sword and placed it upright beneath it, as a support for one stone. He then walked across to the other side and removed the other stone, as the wooden plank pivoted. The sword prevented the other stone from dropping down. He then removed it, also taking back his sword.
Marlin turned to the other Guardian, “Why didn’t we think of that, it was so obvious?”
Purlin’s reply was indignant, “That’s why we never thought of it."
Marlin's next words could not hide his regret, “You’ve passed the tests you can be on your way."
Once more their surroundings changed and they were back among the Megaliths. It was early evening, and long shadows littered the plain. The two without waiting for the guardians to change their minds, rode away, they felt that the best thing would be for them to clear Druidier before making camp. Megalith after Megalith drifted by, some were leaning on their sides, others were worn and weathered. And when they finally bade farewell to the last of the columns, it was with a sense of relief. They now struck north on the final leg of their journey to meet the Dragon people. As the day came to a close they made camp by a stream where a rocky overhang provided them with some shelter for the night.
He started to unbridle his horse. It wrestled with him a little until he removed the saddle. It then calmed, its nostrils breathing out long strands of vapour that seemed to curl up and dance in front of its wide cavernous nostrils. Now free of its bit, its yellow teeth were able to chew unencumbered the sweet grasses close by. Achil then did the same for Nishga’s horse; the two grazed calmly side by side. Achil threw a stone into the water, the ripples made it seem as though the stars above were dancing in the fresh night.
They rested and sat staring out across the stream its gentle running waters seemed to rush coolly by, as a soft breeze rustled nearby grasses. A small fox passed by, stopped a moment to stare at the strangers, sniffed the air, and sauntered away. An owl flew over their heads chasing something in the dark and also swiftly moved off. Wisps of cloud threatened to drive the stars away, but found the task too difficult, as small shards of light pierced their translucent frail hides.
Achil lay back, the soft tranquil voice of the night in his ear. He turned on his side and could see how tired Nishga was, and wondered why she had chosen such a dangerous path.
“I’m still curious,” said Achil. “As to know what you expect to find among the Dragon People.”
She looked up from trying to arrange her blanket in a way so that she had a little comfort.
“I think I would just like to settle there,” said Nishga. "I feel drawn to Osgaroth and that's something I cannot explain. I here it is a beautiful untamed land. You have the Grand Mountain, which the city is built beneath. And it is not far from the sea, and not many have ventured beyond those waters.”
Achil looked baffled, “Nishga you know beyond the great blue are savage inhospitable lands forever bathed in winter. Why would anyone go to such places?”
Nishga smiled, “For the Adventure.”
Achil shrugged, “I’ve already had about as much adventure as I can take.”
The two eased back and once they had eaten and relaxed, Nishga also wished for some explanation.
“If you do not like adventure, then why are you here, what made you leave Findolin in the first place?” Nishga's soft voice quietly spoke the words, as if she did not wish to disturb the night.
Achil’s eyes became distant at her enquiry, her wo
rds a reminder to him of his own tragic past.
“I lost my wife when she gave birth to our child,” replied Achil sadly. “The child also died.”
He picked up a piece of dead wood and turned it over in his fingers as he thought back.
“She was a beauty that no words could do justice to,” continued Achil. “When I lost her I was grief stricken, and that is a strange emptiness, a cavernous hollow that can never be filled. It burns your mind, delivering an uncompromising blow to your heart that can never be cured, only tempered by time. I often still ask myself why she had to die. Such a question follows you wherever you go. Also you think was there something I could have, or should have done differently so that she did not die. All the doubts remain, and spiral out of control; up here and in here." Achil pointed first to his head then his heart. “Grief tightens a great knot in your stomach, so that the only time you are free of it, is when you sleep or when there are no quiet moments. Because when you are alone with the memories of what you have lost. The self-doubt, the anger, the emptiness eats you up inside. Even though you know it is part of the natural order of things. And no matter what age you're at, it is always too soon, to lose someone you love. And so I walked away from my old life to begin a new one. It was my grief apparently that made me susceptible to the attack of the Muli.”
Nishga’s eyes glazed over as Achil explained his loss: she too understood loss, as throughout her short life she had suffered it more than most.
"You must have loved her very much," replied Nishga.
"Yes I did, and you Nishga, have you ever loved anyone?" asked Achil.
"My life has been too busy to find love," said Nishga.
"Be careful with that, regret is also a sad feeling to carry; you do not wish to have to look back one day and see that you left the one true pleasure that life has to offer far behind you," responded Achil. "Embrace life in all its virtues Nishga and welcome love when it calls."
"How shall I know it, when its there."
Achil smiled, "Nishga everyone that's felt Love throughout the ages has known it, why would you be any different. The thing is will you ignore that most powerful of emotions, or will you let it consume you like the burning fire it is? Love is a summer's breeze tempered by sweet perfume of flowers; it can be the mystery of the night, as tranquil as a soft running stream or a raging hurricane."
"It sounds terrible. If it's like a turbulent storm," replied Nishga.
"Not terrible Nishga, but great, sometimes it can be so powerful you feel as though you cannot breathe, at other times you feel you are held aloft by its reassuring embrace, there are many facets to love, as we care for those that are close or distant differently. The main thing is to have compassion for all people; though we all fail at times to do just that, and because of that intransigence, we regularly suffer the consequences of our indifference towards others. And any act that's a slight on another person or kingdom for that matter, even if it seems minor, will often return to haunt the harbinger of it, so it is always important to have care with ones actions. Treat others as you would like to be treated by others."
Nishga, who had watched Achil thoughtfully, lay back, settled down and pulled her thin blanket close too, there was a slight chill to the night air and she was glad for the comfort of the fire. They both stared up at the stars, both drifting in their own memories and worlds. Slowly her eyes closed and she slipped off to sleep. Achil stayed awake contemplating the path they were on: at last they were approaching the lands of the Dragon people.