Sanctuary (Dominion) (37 page)

"We still have some time before we get there. Think on it."

"I don't need to,” I said, hoping I meant it.

Chapter 32

We stayed in that valley most of the night, everyone getting what little sleep they could. Long after the sounds of snoring filled the air, however, I stared up at the cloudy, dark-grey sky, wondering if this would be my last night on this world. If so, I would have at least liked to see the stars. A storm threatened to blow in, but it had been threatening for weeks now. Maybe tomorrow would be the day it finally came.

I slept a few hours, only to be interrupted sometime before dawn by Cullach and Malador, who marched through the camp, rousing everyone awake. Cullach was eager to fight, and he said as much to his men, reminding them of Ruark’s treachery and Lorcan’s devil-spawned magic. When he came to us, however, the only words he spoke were “Wake up, priest. We move.” I groaned, sat up, and looked over at Arkael, who lay on his back, eyes wide open, staring at the mountain’s peak. I was reminded that I’d never actually seen him sleep.

We grudgingly resumed our tunnel march, and not too long after, we reached another branch that led west, taking it this time. After at least half a day of walking and a few brief stops to rest, we passed another entry point. Cullach asked where it led and Arkael told him it was the last one before passing under water and reaching Ynys Mon. Cullach and Malador debated going back up to rest, but I reminded them that we’d be close to Caernarvon, which was not only held by Rhodric’s men, but would probably be heavily guarded in anticipation of us returning to the island. Cullach reluctantly agreed, though I saw several of the men look longingly at that exit. I didn’t blame them. This tunnel, once our path of escape, had now become a dreary, stone prison.

The floor gradually sloped downward, and small drops of water dotted the walls. Soon, I was stepping in puddles and the air felt thick in my lungs. Word spread down the line that we were under the strait, and suddenly the tunnel seemed even more confining than before. Several of the Irishmen became agitated, and one yelled at the men around him, threatening to kill his compatriots if they didn’t get out of his way. A few punches to the side of his head calmed him down so we could start moving again, but the walls still threatened to squeeze us even tighter. I almost succumbed to panic myself, worrying that the ocean above might crash through the ceiling, drowning us in a watery tomb. But I kept my worries to myself, and my pace steady, no matter how much I wanted to sprint down the passage in front of me. Fortunately, this part of the trek didn’t last long. The floor leveled out for a while, then sloped back up, and once the air dried out, our nerves settled and we marched onward in weary, determined silence.

But then came the darkness. It was faint, hovering at the edges of my awareness, probing and prodding, looking to tear into my soul like a rabid dog once I came close enough. My face blanched, and I put a hand to my head.

"You feel it, too?" Arkael asked. I nodded grimly. "Don't try to fight it. As you get closer it will come at you like a strong wind, hitting you in gusts. Let it go around you. You don't walk straight and wide in a gale. You turn to the side and let the wind blow past. Do that in your mind, and it will be easier."

That was the trick. Don't fight it head on. Let it buffet you, or carry you about. I'd imagined a leaf carried by the wind the last time I was there, and it seemed to help. I prayed that it would work again, because from this point on, we’d only be getting closer to that horrifying place.

*****

“Here,” Arkael’s voice snapped me from my meditation and I looked ahead to see the end of the tunnel, and a square room to my left. I’d lost track of time after passing under the strait, focusing all of my effort on avoiding the nauseating sensation of the dungeon, so I couldn’t say how long we’d walked since then. Arkael went to the ladder leaning against the back wall and looked up at the hatch in the ceiling.

“We’re not far. This entrance opens up in a cave on the north end of the mountain. From there, it’s a short walk to the fort.”

“I’ll judge that. You and I will go up,” Cullach said to Arkael. “We’ll see how close we are to the fort, and then come back. The rest of you stay here."

Arkael climbed up and opened the hatch, revealing the tranquil blackness of the cave above. He climbed out, followed by Cullach, and I watched as the light from Cullach’s torch faded away.

Eight of us filled the room, myself, Malador, and six other men, all of us staring intently at the hole in the ceiling. I don’t know what the others were thinking, but I suspected their thoughts mirrored my own, that that hole represented freedom from this torturous, cramped trek through the earth. But while they might be eager to get back above ground, I wasn’t quite ready. Once out of the tunnel, there would be no delays. We would march to the fort and begin our battle against Ruark, Lorcan and the demon who’d terrorized me for weeks. As oppressive as these tunnels were, I wasn't yet prepared to face what could be the last moments of my life.

After a while, I sat down to rest my legs, and most of the others followed my lead. No one said a word, however, not until the light came back. Malador saw it first, and when he pointed and stood, the rest of us were on our feet instantly, watching the light grow stronger, until Cullach’s face appeared above us, his hair and beard drenched.

“Get up here,” was all he said. We climbed, Malador first, then me, followed by the rest of Cullach’s men. When I reached the cave, I could see Cullach and Arkael both standing near a bend just ahead, facing out, the wind whipping their wet cloaks about. I moved up next to them and saw why. The storm had come. It was night, and the sky was black as rain fell from the heavens in a torrential downpour.

Cullach looked at me. “Your God either wants us to stay in this cave, or he wants Ruark and Lorcan to drown in theirs. Which is it, Daniel?”

I glanced at him uneasily. “I’ve seen what’s under that fort, sire. I can promise you that God is on our side tonight.”

Cullach grinned. He turned to his men, who were slowly filling the cave behind us. “I’ve seen the fort,” he called out. “It’s not far. We make our preparations here, or in the tunnel. Be ready, for soon we go to war.”

His men nodded, and one of them clapped his hands together in anticipation. I looked at Arkael, who stood still at the cave entrance, staring out into the darkness.

“How do we approach the fort?” Malador asked. “We can’t sneak in, and we can’t scale the cliffs on the sea-side. It’s too dangerous in this weather.”

“We go in the front door,” Arkael said.

Malador squinted at him through the wind. “Are you mad?”

“I will open it. All you have to do is follow me.” Malador opened his mouth to protest, but Arkael cut him off. “You’ve made it here unharmed and unseen, just as I said you would. I’ve given you no reason not to trust me in this.”

Malador looked to Cullach, who frowned, but nodded his assent. Malador groaned, but made no other protest. Behind us, the Irishmen unbundled their packs, throwing on their chain shirts and dented iron helms, and strapping their trusted swords, axes and knives in their belts, boots and scabbards. It took only moments before they became an army again. Cullach walked through their ranks, meticulously checking their blades, their shields, even the straps of their armor. He didn’t say anything, but the attention he gave his men seemed to bolster their spirit. They stood straighter, their jaws clenched, and the lingering doubts in their eyes disappeared. I could see plainly why these men would follow him to their deaths.

Just as we had Towyn, we left the cave in a straight line, except tonight we carried only weapons of war and a relentless determination to see the next day as victors. We jogged across the countryside, moving as fast as the weather would let us, from one cluster of trees to the next. My clothes were soaked almost immediately, and the piercing rain and sleet stung my cheeks, forcing me to pull my hood low. Even though this part of the island was thick with forests, the wind still swooped in from the shore to our left, constantly threatening to knock me sideways. But I pushed on, as did the men around me.

It didn’t take long before we saw the fort sitting on top of the hill, off in the distance. Holyhead. I suppose the demon took pleasure in corrupting such a place. No torches were lit, but even from here I could see men moving about the ramparts. We made no attempt to hide, taking a direct path toward Caer Gybi, as if the walls would just give way when we arrived. If only it were that easy. Strangely enough, though, the winds and rain seemed to lessen the closer we came, but that was more likely the hill blocking the sea-borne weather, rather than any kind of good omen.

My stomach, already weak, twisted even more. The entire hill reeked of despair, roiling my insides and feeding the doubts that already undermined my spirit. I supposed that was its power, to take the darkest, worst parts of yourself and make them bigger than you could control. To overwhelm you with anger, greed and weakness. If so, was it somehow affecting the others like this, or was it only me? I looked around to see the same determined faces I’d seen in the cave, and I guessed it was only my misfortune to suffer from this terrible place. But I took solace in the fact that I wasn’t alone this time.  I thought of the Irishmen who were sick before the attack on Towyn, or the scared Northumbrians defending the walls in Eoferwic, and I knew now how they felt. Some found their own courage, but others only made it to those front lines because everyone else around them did, too. It was a strange sense of fellowship, knowing you may see your deaths together, but it was enough for me. We may all have different reasons for our willingness to sacrifice our lives, but none of that changed the fact that a victory here would do more than just rid the world of an arrogant chieftain and a miserable little sorcerer.

Ruark’s scouts saw us as we approached, and they ran back and forth along the walls, preparing defenses, while we trudged forward, short on sleep and strength. I heard one man grumble about how Cullach was a fool for thinking we could drive Ruark out of these walls simply because Arkael said so. We’d have to siege the place, or dig under the walls. Had I been in a mood for it, I would have smiled in knowing reproach. They would soon see what Arkael could do.

Cullach led his men to the front of the fort, just out of arrow range from the walls, though Ruark had few archers among his army. His men taunted us as we formed into two lines, with Cullach, Malador, Arkael and myself at the head. Now that the rain had lessened, men with torches flooded the walls, watching us, pointing, some of them laughing uproariously. Ruark appeared then, flanked by two other men. Everyone made way until he reached the center of the wall, just above the thick oak door that kept us outside. He stared at us, at our ragged, wet, and exhausted army, and a look of bewilderment came to his face.

"Dependable as always, Cullach,” he said. “Have you brought me my treasure from Towyn?”

Cullach sneered and grabbed his crotch. "It's all here, you dog. Come and get it."

"I'd rather you just brought it to me," Ruark called back. "On your knees perhaps?"

Cullach pulled out his sword. "I'll die first."

"Be careful what you ask for. You've lost half your men, and the rest are weak. You could bow to me right now, spare their lives, and make this a true army. I would even let you live."

"No one here is foolish enough to submit to a man who so blatantly breaks his oath, Ruark." Cullach spoke those words loudly, his eyes watching the few men on the wall who had served him only a few days ago.

"What do your men say?” Ruark countered. “Are they as eager to die today as you are? You could attack, but you'd lose half your army just trying to get inside. And the rest would get slaughtered, like pigs, and that’s only if you even managed to breach the walls. Is that what you want for them?" Ruark looked out at the men lined up behind Cullach. "Is that what you want? To have your lives thrown away by a man who was so easily fooled? Who led you into a trap at Towyn? Is that the kind of man you've chosen to follow? You may have sworn an oath to him, but I tell you now, I will forgive that mistake if you join me. Throw down your weapons and approach the walls, and I will accept you as my brothers. And I will share with you the treasure we make on our journeys."

Ruark stopped, but the power of his argument hung in the silence that followed. I looked up and down the lines of Cullach's men, and I could see eyes shifting back and forth. They watched each other, waiting for someone to break their ranks, so they could either cut that man down, or join him. This was about to become dangerous.

"You must go now," I said, and Arkael nodded. He stepped forward, pulling his sword from its scabbard.

"Ruark," he called out, and everyone in both armies turned their gaze to him. "I have come for the sorcerer, Lorcan. Open the doors and let me pass, so that I can cleanse the darkness in his soul, and I will spare you and your men."

Ruark smiled, like he'd just seen something funny. "Let you pass? Who the hell are you?"

"I am Arkael, and I am here to destroy the evil that has infected Lorcan's soul. Let me pass, and I will spare you. Attempt to stop me, and I will cut you down without mercy."

Ruark laughed now. "You speak boldly for a man about to die. Or maybe you just need an excuse to leave Cullach’s army? If so, don’t be shy. Tell everyone around you who the better man is.”