The Hounds of the Morrigan (58 page)

‘On we go,’ said Cooroo.

As before, they ran through countryside that was lake-dotted and stone-walled and wooded. They stopped once to look back; but as yet no one followed them. The fox urged them on; and presently they reached the rising ground of the Maamturks. Cooroo studied the way up, moved along a bit, and he wasn’t satisfied until he found a dried-up gully, and then he said that this was a good place to start the climb—as Pidge and Brigit had only two legs each.

‘It’s no use worrying about our scent—so we won’t bother our heads about it,’ he declared. ‘The main thing now is for us to gain distance.’

Flat stones projected from the floor of the gully where the water had long ago washed the soil away; and they stood out like steps and were climbed without much difficulty. They found a sheep path then and Cooroo led them upwards as they followed it. After a long climb on this path, they found a broad shoulder of heathery ground that led them easily to the high top. Now that they were at the very top, they stopped and looked back again.

‘The Twelve Pins look like ghosts of mountains instead of real mountains now,’ Brigit remarked, wonderingly.

They examined the countryside that they had already covered and they were pleased when there was no sign of anyone moving there.

Cooroo faced about and he took in a deep breath of air. And although there was no wind to carry scent to them, he said:

‘I can smell the fresh water of the lake; its softness comes across to me in the air! On we go, again!’

They began their descent.

It took a fair bit of time as they had to be careful—not so much of falling, as the going was quite easy, but of twisting an ankle. Near the bottom, they found a grassy slope and they half-ran, half-slid down it. Then, over a last bit of tufty, heathery land and across a stream by stepping-stones, and they could really run again.

With no other great natural obstacle between themselves and the lake, they went light-heartedly and easily. They ran so well that they almost danced over the ground. Elation was rising in them again and their eyes sparkled. They felt that they could bite and taste the air. Again, now that they wanted to go fast, they found that they were very fast indeed. Cooroo was overjoyed at his wonderful new speed. Pidge knew that it was entirely because of the herbs they had eaten, of course; and he wondered, fleetingly, if it were all too easy. But he was exhilarated by his swiftness and he felt a sense of power.

Once Brigit said:

‘Is there anything in sight?’

And they stopped for some seconds and stared hard at everything behind them.

‘No,’ Cooroo decided; and they ran on.

Another time, Pidge said:

‘What now? Is there anything in sight, this time?’

Again they stopped and searched the distance between themselves and the Maamturks. Nothing moved, so they ran on.

Now they were laughing and full of hope.

E
MBROILED
in the battle, The Mórrígan did not see them go.

It was a long time and they were a long way off before she missed them and knew that they had gone away with the pebble. For a moment she stood amongst the carnage, before going swiftly to stand with Macha and Bodbh. She communicated with them rapidly; they listened intently—and in the next moment, they had melted into her and become one with her again; their three shadows combining into a single dark shape.

For a few seconds, she stood with the blood lust gone from her and her beauty was even greater than before; for she had been greatly refreshed.

She gave a soft call and her six and twenty she-warriors struggled to her side. Bunched around her, they fought their way into the second cavern where each one grasped a shuddering horse by its dangling reins.

Dragging the screaming horses after them, The Mórrígan and her warriors gave a leap into the sunbeam and escaped into the motes. No one could tell which of the millions of particles they had now become.

Presently before the mouth of the cave, a troop of horsewomen descended from the sky and started along the valley with a clatter of hooves over grey slabs. At breakneck speed the frightened horses raced, swerving as best they could to avoid the sharp daggers of rock that stood up from the ground. Every living thing scattered before them as they rode in a wild burst towards the Eye Of The Needle. The Mórrígan was smelling the way that Pidge and Brigit had gone. Her purpose was to follow their trail exactly. Her reason was simple—it was in case that, in their great fear, the children might have cast the pebble away, to be rid of her. She knew that the blood on the pebble would not allow her to pass by, without revealing itself to her; and as she and her warriors galloped crazily along, she was ready to receive its silent message.

She charged ahead to take the lead as they approached the way out of the valley; and in single file, they dashed up the path and swept through the Eye of the Needle and thundered down the snaking, grey path, regardless of danger to the horses or themselves.

They rode boldly through the deserted Second Valley.

Their pace was the incredible hurry of a race. The horses’ ears were laid back, their nostrils flared widely and their tails streamed out behind them. Great veins stood throbbing on their heads and necks, and their manes were like flames of fire. Still, the riders wished for even greater speed and they kicked into the horses’ flanks with their heels. Before very long, they were wheeling past the base of the mountain where the water fell; and there, The Mórrígan pulled cruelly on her reins. Her horse reared madly, plunged and reared again and then stood, quivering and snorting, while the other horses milled about in panic.

The Mórrígan called her hounds.

Slim shapes appeared on the crest of the far mountain where the pass led over into the First Valley; and they ran in haste to obey her.

Again there was rapid communication.

Smell!
was the command when they arrived.
What means this?

The hounds scented the children and the fox, and were too confused to answer. They abased themselves before her.

My enemies have slipped through here with the fox
—
is this how you watch?
she questioned, her face impassive.

The hounds rushed to explain that One Man’s Pass was the only known way out of the valley.

Who guards One Man’s Pass now?
she wanted to know.

‘It is unguarded—we, all of us, came in answer to your call, to serve you’ Greymuzzle explained.

Fools! This could be a trick of The Dagda’s. At this very second, the brats and their companion could be out of hiding and sneaking through the unguarded Pass above. You, Findepath! Take one other and follow the scent that is here. If my enemies have found a way through at this place, do likewise. Wait on the other side until
we arrive. Mind! Keep your noses sharp in case my bloodstone lies discarded on the way. And woe betide you all for this piece of stupidity.

‘Yes, Great Queen,’ the hounds answered, lying in abasement on the ground.

Findepath and Fowler then went behind the waterfall. As they left the main party, one of the she-warriors leaned from her horse and gave Fowler a slap on the hindquarters with the flat of her sword, to encourage him in his duty.

Once he was in the dark, he bared his teeth briefly but plodded on after Findepath as he had been ordered.

Again the riders drummed the horses’ sweating flanks with their heels; and, followed by the remaining hounds, they charged on through the Second Valley. They sped past the huge boulder and urged their horses up the sash-like path. Sensing extra carefully, The Mórrígan led her forces at unbroken speed through the Pass and they followed the line of the mountain and poured down, into, and through the First Valley.

Where the cottage of Sonny Earley had stood, there now grew a wide and thick ring of daisies. The Mórrígan’s eyes flashed fire and there was a deep scowl on her lovely face as they galloped past.

Soon they had reached the far end of the horse-shoe shaped valley and they charged out into the open. They turned sharp left, still driving their horses unmercifully. On they went, obsessed with hurry, until they at last had raced parallel with the mountains to the place where Findepath and Fowler had emerged from the rock passage, and where they now stood waiting.

They reined in for a little time while she questioned as to whether the pebble had been abandoned by Pidge in the tunnel. On hearing that it had not, she scowled; and they all set off again following the trail.

Now that they were in open country, the hounds kept pace with the galloping horses. In time, they reached the point that Cooroo had chosen as an easy way over the Maamturks. Only The Mórrígan and the hounds used the gully as a path upwards. But the she-warriors kept in line with her and forced their horses to throw themselves at a rougher ascent. Without a definite path to follow, the horses laboured up the slope, digging in their powerful back legs to thrust their bodies forwards and upwards, while the she-warriors beat them with the flats of their swords. The horses’ hooves knocked down stones that clattered like falling slates in a high wind. Fowler looked at the cruelly-used horses with something like pity.

They reached the top at last and reined in to scan the countryside spread out before and below them. In the distance three small figures could be seen, running.

A slight smile played about The Mórrígan’s lips as her thoughts dwelt fleetingly on the thumbprint that she had placed on the table in the glasshouse.

A
faint and distant drumming of hooves made the children and Cooroo pause and look back a third time. They saw a small cloud of dust moving at speed between themselves and the Maamturks.

‘Here they come!’ Cooroo said.

A spasm of dreadful fear struck Pidge before they ran on.

‘Keep your courage; keep your heads!’ Cooroo was saying; but they scarcely heard his words.

It was like running from a bad dream.

They ran over pasture land, they skirted round and ran through small clumps of trees. They ran over cut-away bogland, avoiding the deep pools of brown water. They crashed through the green blades of rushes, they scrambled over low stone walls; they ran up small hills and raced down the slopes, leaping over grassy hummocks, just missing rabbit burrows. Once, they followed Cooroo over a deep stream that was narrow enough to jump, holding hands.

They were not conscious of any of these things; but one appalling thought struck Pidge as he ran—he and Brigit were now running in full view of the hounds and the bonds restraining those relentless and slavish animals were now broken.

Brigit was flying over the ground in a blind trance, the whole of her small being intent on putting the greatest distance possible between herself and The Mórrígan. She was totally, utterly, silent. The strap of her precious schoolbag snapped and the bag fell to the ground behind her; but she would not stop and she didn’t want Pidge to stop—when he hesitated in his stride, she gave a small scream. He read the fear in her face, so he ran on.

After a long time, Pidge dared to snatch a look back. He was immediately sorry for he was sure that their enemies were gaining on them. Later, he felt compelled to look again; and he was even more certain that the distance between them had shortened. The truth was that it had shortened; but not as much as he feared.

And then Cooroo did a strange thing. He made a snatch at Pidge’s hand—the hand that held the pebble in a tight grip—and then he ran away from them at an angle, going northwards and eastwards.

The children were so stupefied and shocked that they stopped running. Pidge was overwhelmed with the miserable feeling that they had been betrayed. A few seconds elapsed before he realized that the pebble was still safe in his hand. It had all happened so suddenly.

There was one backward look of farewell from Cooroo, and then he was moving swiftly with his legs going at full stretch and his head up.

Still half-dazed, Pidge and Brigit watched him go, and then they saw that the Mórrígan was dividing her forces. In moments, the six and twenty she-warriors with half the hounds at their heels were swerving to follow Cooroo. Pidge understood that the fox was risking his life again and he felt a sharp stab of sadness and regret. He said nothing to Brigit, however; and they were both running again now, driving themselves to go faster and faster.

And even though they knew that The Mórrígan wanted merely to keep them in sight until they had led her to Olc-Glas, as Cathbad had said, their fear was terrible. Pidge’s greatest wish was that they would find somewhere to hide in this open country; but it seemed quite hopeless. Another look back and he was very slightly cheered to feel that the distance between themselves and The Mórrígan was more or less the same. It seemed that she was not gaining on them.

But now he knew what it felt like to be hunted,
finally, they were quarry
!

And then a small wind came from before them to add to their troubles. It wasn’t a cold or a strong wind, but it was rather horrible in the way it carried sharp dust to throw at them and blind them. No matter which way they turned their heads, the wind found their faces. It seemed to swirl all round them and they were forced to run with heads bent, to protect their eyes. And Pidge thought: this wind has nothing to do with Needlenose—it isn’t friendly, it isn’t full of air.

Under their feet, the grass became withered and thin. The wind prevented them from seeing where they were heading; and all that they could really notice was the ground as they ran over it. There was a sudden change and the grass was grey and blackened; and in the end, they reached a part where the grass failed and the earth had a dark crust like burnt bread and puffs of black dust powdered at their feet at every step.

In spite of the wind, they managed to look around them.

Everything was stricken with a kind of blight. The bushes and rare scraps of grass looked sick and ailing and there was an oily, shiny look to things. On the crippled bushes, the leaves hung like smuts on cobwebs and there was a peculiar smell, half-sweet, half-nasty, that was unlike anything they had ever smelled before.