Hawkmoon (The Hawkmoon Chronicles) (4 page)

                                                   McGinty Tells a Story.

“I met her once”. Said McGinty

Moll stared at him.“The Hag?”

McGinty shook his head. “The one at Poulnafulla.” Moll put down her cup.“Paddy McGinty, you never said a word”.McGinty shrugged.

“T’was years ago”.

“Where, what did she say?” Moll asked.

“There was a ould witchy woman on her death bed the other side of the Glen. She had neither family nor friends. All her life up to mischief, settin’ Pishroges,… putting curses on people..  Back in the Famine days she cursed a man who refused to marry her. He died.

I went across in the evening to see if there was anything I could do for her. To be honest I was never sure if it was Christian charity or pure divilment that sent me. There were a few good for nothings hanging about outside, waitin’ to ransack the house as soon as she died. I hunted them.

As I was going in I met the Parish priest coming out. He was shaking like a leaf. He told me she had refused the Last Sacrament. I commended him for his bravery in offering it... He considered himself strong in the faith but not strong enough for Black Biddy.”

She had a nephew; lived  over in Ballycotton. The most useless man you could meet in a day’s journey. I caught him pulling out drawers in the sitting room.  .I hunted him with a kick in the arse.To annoy her I shouted: “God Bless all here”. A screech came from the bedroom. I opened the door and the smell nearly knocked me . “Ah, Paddy McGinty , is it yourself”, she says lifting her hand to beckon me in.

“What way are you Biddy?.The smell of piss and vomit would knock a bullock. “

“As you see Pat ,as you see. Not long now” She lifted herself up out of the covers and I was shocked at the sight of her. She was nothing but skin and bone.

“It’s only a bag, I’ll have a new one  soon…Tell me Paddy” she says, “How is that in all the years we lived across from each other we never had a cross word?”.

“I don’t know Biddy, maybe because we stayed out of each other’s way. Or maybe because in all the mischief you brought on people you never did anything to the McGinty’s “

“That’s true, I did not” She said

“I s’pose it was just as well. If you had caused us trouble my father would be over and he would have pulled the house down around your ears”.

Biddy hooted. “He would, and he was one man that could have done it….. Or maybe it was because I was told to leave you and your family alone and not bother you”.

“What do you mean by that Biddy?”

She tapped the side of her nose and leered at me. She had power, that one. Women would come to her to find a husband or an easy birth when they found someone to marry with. Farmers paid her not to put pishroges on their land or put them on others. “I hear you refused the Last Confession” I said

“Ha, she said, more like First Confession, what would the likes of me  be doin’ confessin’ to the likes of him?  And he not a true priest”

“Do you say that?” I asked

“I do . I know what he gets up to in the Parish house. D’ye have any truck with him?”

“Indeed we do not. The young priest comes up now and then. ..Says  Mass for us on the mountain. Moll  thinks the sun shines of him”

“How is Moll?”

“Grand entirely.”

“Neither  chick nor child. That’s sad. A woman with hips like hers. What age are you Paddy”. She asks, her eyes dancing with malice.

“I’m  a good age  and fit as a goat”

“Randy as a goat too I’m thinkin’. I saw her the morning after the wedding  She was a bit stiff in the walk if ye take my meaning”.. She cackled at me. Then she hoisted herself so that she was sitting up. For a woman at death’s door she was full of beans.

“I’ll tell you what, put silver on the sideboard there and I will tell you how she can have babbies. Go on now” she coaxed. “I’ll be gone soon enough. My equals have great  power when we get near the veil”

“No thanks Biddy. I’ll be off now.” I got up to leave. …To be honest I was frightened of her. She was fey  . My mother warned me …. Never have anything to do with spirits or those who had dealin’s with them. Not to talk to them, or if I was foolish enough to converse with them, to make no bargains. They were liars and cheats. Their sport was the ruin a  life.. The game  was to take everything  and give nothing in return. Even so I was tempted to do the thing she asked. As I went to get up    her hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. She pulled back so hard I found myself back in the chair. You would not credit the strength of the woman .She handled me like I was a child”

“Ah Paddy, don’t go. I’m waiting for someone. She’d love to meet you”. She wheedled.

I broke her grip and I carry the mark to this day. I was heading for   the door when  she shouted after me. I will never forget that voice. It was a deep base like a big strong man.

“She will have a child but it won’t live.  There is a price to be paid. The Hag won’t do a thing. She knows better than to interfere with things that are none of her business “I stopped at the door wanting to leave but not able to, held by her voice. She looked at me, eyes taunting. I tore myself away. The last words I heard from her as I closed the door were:

“The child won’t see the light of day. Tell the boy we’ll wait for him on the mountain”.

I started up the hill as quick as my two legs would carry me. I was passing out of her land, just by the stand of hazel when I heard a call from the shadows. I jumped, thinking Biddy had found the strength to  get out of her death bed and follow me. A woman stepped from the dark.   From what Jack said it was  the same one. I asked her who she was. She didn’t answer me.  Just looked at me the way a badger would look at a rabbit.

“What do you want? “.

“Nothing from you, Paddy McGinty”.

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting.”

“For what?”

She stepped  out . I can tell you she was beautiful. Tall and strong with it. And dangerous. No woman ever looked like her ….Not in Ireland….Not in these times.

“You are curious about me but beware what it might gain you. Some questions should not be asked unless you can bear to know the answers. Can you?”

“Maybe I can and maybe I can’t”

“Maybe you can. There are few who would stand where you are now and speak to me.  . You have goodness in you and that gives you courage… I am waiting for my servant.”

“Ould Biddy?” I asked.

“She is known to you by that name. Did she say anything?”

“She said to tell the boy you would wait for him on the mountain.”.

“He must come. There is work for him. Great work. Then she told me to leave her.”

The wind moaned around the eaves of the house. Moll stood up from the table to light the oil lanterns.  One she left on the hob. The other she placed in the middle of the table. The stew pot she hooked to the crane pushing it to the back of  the fire. White mist passed the window leaving droplets to trickle on the glass She sat at the side throwing on turf and dry wood. Picking up her knitting she sat back in her chair.

“In all these years you never said a word.”

“And I wouldn’t only for what has come to pass”. Answered McGinty.

“You knew our child would die”. Moll accused him.

“No Moll, All I knew was she said it.. What good would tellin’ you have done? Make you sick with worry and maybe  cause the very thing she predicted “ Moll looked at her husband   tears on her face. “So all these years you kept that locked away”.

“I did”

Moll was silent , looking into the flames as they gathered. “You were right not to. I would have worried myself sick. The bitch wanted you to tell me”.

“The question is what can we do to stop this?”

Moll began to cry. “There is anything to be done”. Ryan got up from the table. Kneeling by her chair he put his arms around her. “Shush Moll. It will be alright. I won’t go back to that place. I will stay away from it”. She clung to Ryan as if both were drowning.  Wiping her tear stained  face, she took his face between her hands.

“Will you pray with me?”

Taking her beads they pulled out the chairs in the centre of the kitchen.  By the time  they finished the Rosary the air of dread had lifted …. Moll stood from where she was kneeling. She took Ryan by the shoulders.

“What is to be cannot be avoided”

The best crockery was brought down. Ryan cut slices of currant cake and covered them with yellow butter. Knowing they needed time together  McGinty declared he was tired and bound for bed. He listened to their talk from the bedroom . Jack was eleven months the year his mother died and  Moll lost her own child.  She loved him with all the ferocity of her nature. The boy had fallen under an enchantment... His last thought was what it would do to Moll when he was gone.

Ryan came in from the yard with a basket of turf. Stacking it by the hearth he went out for timber. Mist and a moonless night  made for utter darkness.  Settled at opposite sides of a blazing hearth, Moll in her overstuffed armchair, Jack in McGinty’s seat they talked long into the night, sharing old memories that had been shared many times before but   all the  sweeter for that . Ryan  talked  of times he ran foul of the animals on the farm, adventures he had in the woods, building tree houses with McGinty.  Not a word about the war  nor those he had killed.  There was no need.. To Moll he was an open book. He recited  poetry .Byron was her favourite.  .

She walks in beauty like the night,

Of cloudless climes and starry skies,

And all that’s best of dark and light,

Meet in her aspect and her eyes.”

Moll was  afraid as he finished the poem. The one at Poulnafulla would swim through rivers of blood to accomplish her ends. The boy would serve or he would lose more than his life…

                                                              The Goblin.

She stopped to gaze in the far distance where the battlements of the Keep were visible, backlit by the westering sun. In the forest the trees were a mix of Oak, Elm and Chestnut. A stand of Mallorn  grew on the southern edge.

The day was soft with the ease to think of what she might do. She would climb the White Mountains.  She would  go to Holgun and swim in pools heated by the  volcano. She would gaze upon  the  Worms of the Great Sandsea… Such an odd name for something so mysterious…After time with the Elves she would travel to the Court of the Great Khan..

Growing up in the palace there was  a line tapestries  decorated the corridor outside her room   She passed it each evening  on her way to bed... All her dreams were there and most of her nightmares. The world laid waste after the Dragon’s Breath. The Elf, Shaleen  standing on the highest peak of the White Mountains as he sang the Song of Healing. The dwarves overcome at Silverlode . Behind a curtain was another set of panels. When no one was watching she would draw the cover to look upon a scene that terrified her

It was night. A castle in the Icelands; winged creatures circling the battlements. In the foreground a man tied to a rock as ravens fed on him. Close by three figures, two women and a male; the women thin to the point of emaciation, yet with an eldritch beauty. Their eyes were large and might have been beautiful were it not they were   crimson. Each held the arm of the male who towered over them.  He had the look of a soldier. He looked deep into her eyes, compelling her, forbidding her to look away….

At the end, to the left of her door was her favourite; sad more than frightening. It told of an attack in the desert. On the first panel a caravan was trapped  Forest and mountain could be seen far away….. A group huddled together on a rock. They clung to each other. Clouds of dust on the horizon .

The next panel showed an eruption of sand, a gigantic  form bursting  to the surface, scooping  sand, camels and people into its  gigantic maw..  A boy stood  on a slab of rock as a  shape arrowed to a small girl standing alone on the sand.  In a desperate attempt to  bring the monster  towards him he  was pounding the sand with the haft of a spear In the final scene worms circled the rock island, waiting  for those who huddled above. Of the girl and boy there was no sign. On her tenth naming day the chamberlain ordered the panels moved to the Hall of Audience.

The year was turning. Rabbits scampered around the hooves of the horses.  Crossing a stone bridge she gazed on a long valley lined with heavy oak. Closer to the stream was a mixed grove of fruit trees. She would make it her first stopping place. She began to set up camp; a routine that would become familiar in the months  to come. No one lit fires in the  Forest. She could eat of any tree. She was not permitted to hunt.

Munching  on nuts and fruit she tended to her little troop. Along with Posy she had two for riding. Gazing resentfully at the idlers a mule carried the kit and provisions. Leading the troop to a stream  she tethered them with  feeding bags on each . Kerris had wrapped potato cakes, cold chicken and a bottle of white wine.. It turned cool as the light faded. Making a circle with rocks  she placed a heat stone in the centre Heat and light poured from the circle. She spoke a second time and the light extinguished. She would have heat without light to attract attention.  Gathering a heap of dry grass she spread a horse blanket and covered herself with her travel cloak The branches looming  thick above her, she was asleep in minutes. Darkness came to the Forest. As the sphere of night turned the first moon rose casting   silver on the sleeping world.

If anything, the following day was more beautiful than the one before.  Striking camp at first light she  finished the last of the prepared food on the move, indulging  herself  in the knowledge that hard times  lay ahead. The stream was a pointer for her journey. When the trail split she chose the path that followed the watercourse. On the sixth night the Brother disappeared. The Sister careened across the sky, alone. . She would disappear in a few days to search for him in the Underworld. As Mira slept a shadow blocked the stars. The quiet was shattered by a wailing screech that was answered from the west. Mira slept on, undisturbed. The creatures of the forest abandoned their gambols and ran to the safety of burrows.

The glider moved  south. The animals filtered back. After a time the forest  was a playground of wild  and magic creatures. Small shapes came out in the moonlight . They  danced   on the   lawn at the river’s edge. They  scuttled in the trees. They whispered, they talked,  they giggled, they hummed and sang. They played music and the animals stopped to listen. Everyone scattered when the Goblin came.

It was low sized, muscular; it’s skin covered with fine fur,  deep brown mixed with green. The pupils of its eyes were black, the surrounds red, thin hair receding from a pointed forehead. It’s ears ended in narrow tips, pointed   teeth in a perpetually leering grin. There was glee in the smile but no joy. It sat by the sleeping girl watching her breasts rise and fall. It felt the pulse in her neck tracing  the skin with fingers tipped long, razor sharp nails.... Her leg jerked kicking the covers away. Heat rose carrying her scent Reaching it lifted her clothing…

Movement  came from behind. It whirled about, ready to punish the interloper. A white wolf emerged from cover. Recognising a deadly  enemy it spat hate, scuttling  to the trees at the other side. More wolves came to the clearing. The pack leader crossed to  Mira He lowered himself by her sleeping form. His brethren faded back to cover.

The first moon was down, the second about to lose itself behind a cloudbank. At the edge of the treeline, where it overlooked the river, the goblin waited .  It ducked as  water splashed below. Eyes used to darkness it peered from cover. Reivers this far south.... For big men they moved quiet.… It followed.

They were standing at a raised plinth with   standing stones  behind. It watched as they bound  a prisoner. Saliva dripped from fangs as it  understood what was about to take place.. Another broke free and ran. They went to follow but came back when they were called. The one who ran went by the spot where it was hidden, close enough to rip his throat. It let him go.  Once they got through with their business, there would be plenty to eat...

One of them lifted a blade and cut.  For a moment the prisoner struggled against the bindings. The Magicker started chanting. Nothing happened for a while.  After a time the air between  the stones started to  darken. Air came out of it. From where he watched he could smell it. When the darkness was solid they gathered their packs and went through. They had left their weapons.

He  stood by the victim,torn between hunger and curiosity. The stars were  beginning to pierce the darkness between the stones. Driving a clawed  fist, it ripped the heart out  and  ran  jumping through the moment before it closed.

On her fourth naming day a Ranger brought her a wolf cub.  A strange gift for a child, it had been accepted with reservations. Gifts from Rangers were never returned. Her mother wanted it in the kennels but Mira spotted the cub before it could be taken away. It was love at first sight. Nothing would do but the cub would sleep in her room. She called him Wolf. She said she had another name but it was secret. Every night Wolf  lay  on the rug  at the foot of her bed while her Amah read her to sleep. When Amah left Wolf would climb onto the bed. In the morning he was back on the rug. Her mother and Wolf died in the same week…

Turning in her sleep she  caught a grip in his fur. She murmured softly. The wolves left as dawn crept among the trees.