Chapter 16 It's The Old Dog...

 Chapter 16  It’s The Old Dog…

In which Fergus and Cúchulainn battle within the Claiomh Solais.

Aoibheann watched as Inspector Callan tied Fergus securely to another one of the heavy chairs. Maedhbh was taking no chances if Cúchulainn himself were to return to Alex’s body. The Claiomh Solais glinted on the table before him. Maedhbh began her incantation.

 “Tús maith leath na hOibre

 Scaoil isteach san cliomh nimhe,

 Anam Fergus ag lorg troide,

 Rí an Caiseal, don claiomh tuilte.”

  ( A good start is half the work, slip inside the poisoned sword, the soul of Fergus seeking battle, King of the castle, for the sword deserved.)

As Aoibheann listened to the incantation the green mist of Fergus Mac Róich floated out of Alex’s body and Alex slumped unconscious in the chair. The ethereal mist floated over to the table and hung over the Claiomh then, drifting slowly down and it settled on the bright steel. Immediately the steel dulled to black and the mist was absorbed into the metal and was gone. The Claiomh returned to its steely appearance but light pulsated within it.

“Now what ?” asked Aoibheann. “Now we wait for Fergus to return and claim the Claiomh Solais. Cúchulainn will be destroyed utterly and I shall have all Eriu as my domain.“ replied the evil Maedhbh. “Then when your brother comes I will let him see you die at Fergus’ hands before  I end the line of Cúchulainn forever!”

The Garda Sergeant looked down on the young traveller boy in front of him. Next he took a long look at the sulky and Dove between the shafts. Next he redirected his gaze at the Garda car still leaking sand. Finally his gaze returned to the young boy.   “ Here now Sonny, is this your pony and trap. Lee looked over at Dove. There was already a steaming pile of horse manure beneath  Dove’s tail. “Well it depends .” he replied merrily. “What d’you mean ‘it depends’.“ said the Sergeant imitating Lee’s accent sarcastically. “Sure if he’s breaking the law , then I’ve never seen him before but if he’s not he might be mine.” was Lee’s cautious reply. “Oh and that pile of shite was there when I arrived.”

The Sergeant took  out his notebook and licked his pencil in anticipation “What is your name?” he queried. “ I don’t have to tell you that.” answered Lee “ Why would I have to tell you that?” “Because I’m a Garda Sergeant” exploded the Sergeant furiously. “How do I know you really are a Garda Sergeant ?” asked Lee peering at him now with some suspicion it must be said, “ have you any identification?” “ I am wearing a Garda uniform and I am driving an official Garda car!” retorted the man who was getting a little heated under the collar. “Sure that means nothing,” declared the little lad, “you could be one of those .. you know, strippograms. Where’s your music player,mister,  your boombox?” “For the last time I am not a strippogram I have no boombox nor am I about to start taking my clothes off. Now what is your name?” thundered the frustrated Garda. “ I’m not supposed to tell strangers my name,” said the boy squinting up at him, “it’s part of the new ‘Stay Safe’ school programme and if you were a real Guard you’d know that. Do you do Confirmations?” 

“Listen here, young fellah, I am a real Garda and I don’t strip for Confirmations and I still want to know your name.” “Prove it,” said Lee ,“Let me see some ID.”  The Garda reached into his uniform and pulled out his Garda ID he flipped it open and showed it to the young lad. “ Your finger is covering up the writing,” said Lee studying it carefully. “There, there, look.” said the Sergeant handing Lee the ID.

 “Thanks” said Lee “Only I can’t read it here in the shade .” Lee turned around with his back to the Sergeant for a moment .There was a small click. “Ah that’s better,” said Lee gleeful-Lee. When he turned around again he went to hand it back it was on fire. The Sergeant’s eyes widened and his face went white as he watched his warrant card with small flames licking over it. His mouth flopped open in surprise. His hand, as if acting independently, reached out pawing the air as if wanting to retrieve the card but hesitant over getting burnt.

 “Oh look it’s it on fire,” remarked Lee “You don’t want to burn yourself, do you ?”   The poor sergeant watched as Lee’s arm went back in an arc and his Garda Identity Card went over the Cemetery wall trailing a smoke trail sadly in the air beside it. 

The Sergeant bolted for the gate. He was on his flaming card in seconds stamping it out with his black leather size 11 boots. When he stood up her heard three sounds. First there was a child’s evil laughter, then the clatter of horse’s hooves cantering away at speed only to leave the last sound the steady hiss of a punctured pneumatic tyre on an official Garda vehicle.

Aoife was chained alone in the cave below the Tower. The five lamps gang had all disappeared. She felt awful. Her job had been to protect Aoibheann Cullen from Queen Maedhbh, a job at which she had failed spectacularly. Aoibheann was no doubt being tortured right now above in the tower at the hands of Maedhbh and her vassals. She felt completely betrayed also by Scátha who had left her helplessly manacled to the wall when she could have freed her!  What did it mean? If only she could free herself from the padlocked bonds tied above her head. 

A figure sidled silently down the stairs. It was the greasy and repulsive Philly O’Leary. He leered at her from the bottom of the stairs. “So who are you then?” he sneered while his eyes ran over her body head to toe. “ Not that it matters, but you might consider switching your loyalties from that Cop’s daughter above to my side. I think you haven’t realised how someone like you could really fit in on our side.” Even Philly’s wheedling voice grated on her nerves. 

“Set me free and I’ll do anything you want.” pleaded Aoife seeing a chance in playing the desperate girl. Philly smiled a sly smile and stepped forward. He reached out and brushed the hair back from her face. He looked into her eyes and as he did he dropped his hand to touch her breast. Aoife’s anger sparked in her eyes and Philly saw it. “No I don’t think you will somehow. I think you very much want to hurt me. However I think I have something that is going to change your tune.” He produced one of her long steel hairpins glittering evilly in his right hand. “The Lawlors told me how painful this can be and I really wanted to see for myself.”  He pushed the point slowly into her exposed skin. The pain made her gasp in anguish.

Three things happened very fast. Aoife’s knee came swiftly up between Philly’s legs.

As he crouched over giving a whimper of pain Aoife’s right foot came scything across knocking Philly down and out with a stunning blow to his exposed head. As he fell he  dropped her steel pin out of his hand. 

Aoife swiftly slipped her school shoes off of her feet and stretched her toes to scrabble about in the dark trying to clutch the pin between her toes. Then bracing her back against the wall Aoife swung her feet upwards and hanging upside down like a sloth she worked the point of the pin into one of the padlocks trapping her wrists. She struggled and squirmed trying to spring the lock. A rivulet of blood flowed down her arm from wounds tearing at her skin beneath her bonds. There was a click and the padlock fell open unhinging the left manacle. 

Philly began to stir and moan on the ground. Aoife reached with her free hand and grabbed the pin and jammed its point into the second padlock. ‘Come on, come on.’ she thought as the padlock resisted her attempts. Then it too clicked open. Philly tried to get his legs under him and lift himself on his elbows. Aoife landed beside him on all fours like a cat. “Lullaby Baby on the tree top,” said Aoife pressing on two pressure points on Philly’s neck until he slumped unconscious once again. “Now Philly ,“ she said to the slumped figure “I have some lovely bracelets for you to wear.” 

She dragged him over to the wall, loosened the chains from a bar and locked the irons on his two wrists as they had been on hers. She then removed his shoes and socks. She rolled up one sock and placed it in Philly’s mouth. She tied her school tie across the mouth and knotted it behind his head. Then she hauled him using the pulley and chains slowly up the wall until his feet dangled in the air. She locked off the pulley and plucked up the pin. “Now Scátha , you had better be ready to answer to me. If not ‘It’s the old dog that is for the hard road.” she whispered slipping her shoes back on and creeping softly up the steps without so much as a backward glance.

When Fergus opened his eyes he was himself again. He was clad in his old armour and holding his old weapons: sword, shield and spear. His beard was full and he felt his full 40 years.All around him the landscape was unreal. The ground was hard and metallic with jagged angular shapes shooting many metres upwards like hills and mountains around him. He stood on a zig zag pathway that led through the barren land devoid of any life. The sky was white and he cast pale shadows pooling around his feet as if there was a sun directly overhead but overhead there was no sun. He set out walking along the path in the direction that he was facing.

 Rounding one huge jagged pillar he saw a huge silver circular shield hanging from a smaller pillar and a short silver sword stuck in the ground before it. He seized the sword and struck the shield. A long low reverberation of metal echoed and echoed among the valleys of metal all around. Then there was a deep silence.

Suddenly out of the pillar, as if pressed from its centre, came the electric blue outline of a Celtic Warrior. The Warrior’s face was obscured by a bright shining silver helmet and Fergus was almost blinded by the light emanating from it. The warrior’s left arm merged with the shield and his right hand stooped and picked up the sword. Then his body became bright and solid as steel . The helmet turned in Fergus’ direction. In a deep loud voice he called out, ”who is it that wishes to challenge the warrior of light?”

“It is I Fergus Mac Róich of King of Ulaidh. I come in search of Cúchulainn.” The warrior paused cocked his head to one side and said “Well indeed do I recognise the voice of Fergus. However the Fergus I knew would never fall to tell so many as the three lies you have just told in a single sentence.” Fergus stuck out his chin. “Where I come from it is not customary to accuse a guest to my land of telling lies as a first greeting. Reveal to me the truth behind your words or prepare to die for the insult to my good name.”

“As for that,” said the warrior “It is easily done. The first lie is in calling yourself a king. Although once you were a King you surrendered that right to take to your bed the lovely Nessa on the agreement that you would let her son Conchubhar rule your Kingdom for a year. After that year ,seeing as how you valued Nessa above them your own people refused to take you back as King and chose instead to keep Conchubhar as their rightful king and so you lost your title.”

Fergus interjected, “ It is true but what of the other two lies.” The warrior pointed his sword at him and said these words. “When Conchubhar was chosen, you turned your back on Emhain Macha and set off with your people, your kith and your kin, your three hundred warlike warriors, your three hundred maidservants, your livestock and possessions and made your way to Ulaidh’s mortal enemies,namely King Ailill and Queen Maedhbh in Cruachan in Connaught.You then pledged your swords and your loyalty to them. From that moment you were no longer of Ulaidh but its sworn enemy and of Connaught. “ Fergus growled “It is as you say it is but there is no third lie in my words. I have come in search of Cúchulainn.”

The warrior dropped his hand holding the sword and spoke the following. “The last lie is the worst lie of all. Fergus Mac Róich could not enter here were it not for the druid magic of the Witch Queen Maedhbh croí cruach of Connaught. It is she that has sent you here for one purpose and for one purpose only. That purpose is not just to find Cúchulainn but to fight him and kill him that she may possess the invincible power of an Claiomh Solais to defeat the new warrior of light and put the truce arranged by the three Lords of the Sidhe to an end. She has made you her new warrior of darkness to slaughter the Sidhe and plunge the World under the Sun into darkness under her rule.”

 Here the warrior of light paused and lifted the face guard from his helmet and Fergus recognised the cold blue eyes framed by the raven black hair of Cuchulainn looking back at him. “Know now that you have found me ,Fergus,  here where I have been waiting for you during the long ages to finish what you started all those years ago.”

With that the two warriors rushed at one another and traded blows, shield to shield and helmet to helmet with neither giving a step or rest for many long hours. Weariness and fear drove Fergus on to attack the young champion of King Concubhar as much for the truth of his words and the mockery of Fergus’ honour as for the intrigues of Maedhbh. Cúchulainn no less on his side fought grimly and with determination to defend the control over the Claiomh Solais on behalf of The Sidhe and the light. As he fought the picture came to him of a boy with unkempt hair and a shocked expression saying ‘I am your son’.

Gradually step by step Cúchulainn found himself driven back by the bigger man step for step until his back was against the pillar. Fergus chopped Cúchulainn’s shield down with his sword and lunged clashing the central knob of his shield against Cúchulainn’s helmet dashing it from his head. “Darkness wins.” he called out swinging what he thought was to be the death blow. 

But Cúchulainn had gone into his hero warp spasm. His muscles bulged, the head on his hair stood up straight and pulsed with hot flashes of electricity, one of his eyes protruded bloodshot and flopped out of the socket onto his cheek. The other eye receded into the socket till all that was left to see was a dark hole. His right hand became a massive size with nails elongating like claws of a huge bear while his right arm bent backwards revolving unnaturally at the joint like a rotating flail. 

The huge clawed hand drove its nails through Fergus’ shield into his chest. As Fergus opened his mouth to scream the flail swung across his neck decapitating him before he could utter a sound. As his head hit the ground Cúchulainn’s hero warp spasm subsided and he knelt down , cradled Fergus’s head in his hands and recited this lay.

Woe to you brave King and Soul,

Led astray by women’s role, 

First to battle and to bed.

Lustful deeds have cost your head.

Sung to rafters for your deeds

Tricked by Nessa who succeeds

Conor’s reign eclipses yours

Fled to Connaught’s barren moors.

Led by Maeve a traitor’s path,

Guide her men past dun and rath

Now at last your spirit’s free, 

And stay alone eternally.

With that Fergus’ decapitated body disappeared and shortly another celtic warrior stepped forth from the pillar all clad in electric blue. He turned solid steel and looked at Cuchulainn. At once he took up the sword and shield and rushed at him and drove his sword through Cúchulainns fading blue electric form. “Now Fergus,” quoted the unharmed Cúchulainn,” it is you that are the warrior of the light and your service is to defend the sword  from the future warriors of darkness. Whoever dies here stays here until freed by the next one to die. My time of service is at an end. Farewell.”And with that Cúchulainn disappeared!