The Magic Lands (51 page)

"There is only one judge,
and it is not you," responded his friend quickly. "True love is
akin to sacrifice, and both are rare indeed. Once, long ago, one
who
was
good walked the
lands, one who offered love as a cure for sin. But only a few were
willing to believe in what he promised, while the rest rejected the
wisdom they had been given. Finally, the messenger gave up his life
as an example and a lesson, for to sacrifice yourself for truth and
justice, to give freely without desiring reward
is
the meaning of love. And faith is the spark
that brings love alive. To care for all and not just a chosen few,
that is true love. And from love such as this, goodness must surely
come. That is what we must all strive for."

Jack didn't know what to say.
"It just sounds too hard. I could never be like that," he murmured
finally.

"Everyone must learn," Mo
assured him. "Each and all. Everyone has been given the chance to
find the truth for themselves. Hope, faith, love, they are all a
part of the whole. We make choices every day of our lives, but it
is up to us to choose what we know is right and not be tempted or
deceived into walking with the Beast, although many, so many, have
travelled that road."

"If only I could be as wise as
you are," Jack said, awed by his friend's passionate words.

At this, Mo smiled but there
was sorrow in his eyes. "Oh to be as true as your words," he
remarked. "If only it were as simple as that."

WILD WATERS

Thunder roared.

"What was that?" said Tom,
sitting up suddenly.

He and Lisa had been there
together for what felt like an eternity. And he truly wished that
this time with her would go on forever.

"It's nothing," Lisa told him,
stroking his cheek softly, "lay back down. Don’t worry about
it."

Needing little persuasion Tom
settled back, letting his face nestle against her golden hair. But
as he did so the sound came again, booming very much like a muffled
thunderclap, and yet it did not come from far off in the distance,
it came from somewhere close by.

"Something's going on," he
said, getting to his feet now.

"Leave it be," Lisa urged him,
frowning just a little. "You're safe here with me. Don't go
courting trouble." She reached up, catching his hand and pulled
gently for him to sit down beside her again, but Tom resisted
letting her fingers slip from his to fall idly into her lap.

"Where's it coming from?" he
queried, tilting his head to one side, listening carefully. Almost
at once, the rumbling sound reached them a third time and Tom
turned to look down at the girl, curiosity governing his thoughts.
"It sounds like some kind of explosion," he speculated.

"What does it matter?" Lisa
said to him, her eyes fixed on his. "Can it be so important it’s
worth leaving me for?"

When Tom gazed at her it made
him feel strange inside, as if he were floating, weightless and
free. The time they had shared together was more special than
anything he had ever known in his life. "I never want to leave
you," he said slowly, "but I can't just ignore things and hope
they’ll go away." Lowering her eyes, Lisa became silent. "You have
to understand," continued Tom, hoping desperately that she would be
able to.

Lisa lifted her face and Tom
could see the sadness that she felt. "But I don’t."

"It’s hard…hard to explain," he
stammered, finding it impossible to put into words what he knew to
be true. "But there are people who need me, people who have put
their faith in me."

"
I
need you," she said flatly, turning away from
him, and Tom felt empty inside, his heart aching.

A loud boom shook the air,
followed closely by another, and the need to find out what it was
pulled at him with an urgency he couldn't explain.

"It sounds like it's coming
from just over those hills," he said, pointing vaguely. "I'll be
back before you know it. I just have to see what it is."

A tear ran down across Lisa's
cheek, a tiny symbol of despair that aroused emotions in Tom that
were new and frightening to him, their intensity almost more than
he could bear.

"If you go, you'll never come
back," she said, her voice very quiet. And something in the way she
spoke, as if it had already taken place, made him believe her. But
of course, it wouldn't be like that. He would always come back to
her. She meant more to him than anything else in the world.

"Anything?" she asked him,
making him wonder if he were really dreaming now and would soon
awaken to find himself all alone again. "I would do anything to
keep you with me," she whispered, wiping away the tears with the
sleeve of her blouse.

"Listen to me," Tom told her
gently, kneeling down and putting his arms around her, "please
don't cry. If you're so afraid I won't come back, why don't you
come with me?"

But as he said this, Lisa
pulled away from him. "I can't leave the little ones all alone…the
Wolf might come."

The Wolf.

For a while he had nearly
forgotten all about the enemy, but now his memory burned with a
bestial visage, malignant eyes taunting him. The White Wolf had
been playing games with him all along, perverse tests to break his
spirit, but Tom wasn't broken yet.

"I'll be back as quickly as I
can," he said without looking Lisa in the eye and he made to stand
up, but the girl tugged on his arm urgently, forcing him back to
her.

"Please, Tom," she begged him,
her eyes pools of tears, "don't go away."

It was not enough. He had
thought it would be but it wasn’t. He couldn't just close his eyes,
or let them be closed for him.

Taking her hand from his arm,
he squeezed it tenderly and then smiled at her, his own tears
pressing for release. "I love you," he said in a shaky voice and
then turned and walked toward where the sound seemed to have come
from. Behind him all was quiet, but he dared not look back to see
if she was crying.

Moving hurriedly, Tom made his
way over a series of grassy knolls, the sound calling to him at
irregular intervals. Still the sea air teased him, promising to
reveal its source but each rise in the land denied his
expectations.

On and on he trekked, all the
time aware that something was wrong, knowing that he was leaving
Lisa further and further behind, and yet he would not give up and
turn back. The sky began to darken as another crash resounded, very
close now, and this spurred him on, his determination to find out
what it was driving him forward.

Climbing to the brow of still
another high mound, he could see only more of the same in front of
him, and frustrated, he broke into a run, clambering with frantic
speed across the undulating landscape.

Tom gasped for breath, pushing
himself harder, everything around him beginning to blur as he ran
faster and faster.

"You won't beat me," he vowed
as he scaled one exceptionally steep hill, using handfuls of grass
to pull himself to the summit, his whole body aching with the
effort, his pulse hammering in his head.

And then, it was there. Blue
and vast and wondrous.

As if he had never seen the
ocean before, he merely stood there, on top of the hill and stared
out across that shimmering expanse, hardly feeling the brisk wind
that came in from the sea, dishevelling his hair and cooling the
sweat on his brow.

Abruptly, his eyes focused on
something out upon the water and he immediately knew that what he
saw was the cause of all the commotion.

A ship, belaboured by the
heightening gust and obviously having great difficulty holding its
position, lay a short distance off from the coastline. And even as
Tom watched her rising upon the strident waves, another thunderous
explosion was heard, a terrible cry that issued from the vessel,
and below where he stood, perhaps two hundred yards away to his
right, something heavy smashed into the beach, violently ripping
into the sand and sending debris flying into the air.

The ship was firing its cannons
right at him!

But why?

He feared he had run straight
to the enemy and while he considered what he might do, Tom saw that
his question might very well soon be answered, for heading toward
the shore, oars forcing them onward, a longboat was approaching,
manned by at least a half-a-dozen figures.

As they had come about to face
the island, the sea had changed. Not gradually, but all at once,
the waters suddenly swirling wildly, the ship buffeted by fierce
waves. Instantly, Captain Welles had barked some orders at his
first mate and the crew had gone to work.

Jack didn't really understand
what was going on as he clung to the rail and watched them bustle
about, scrambling across the deck and climbing the rigging, but he
guessed they were making every effort to hold their position. The
way the vessel was being battered, thrown to-and-fro by the wild
waters, he could see it would not be an easy task.

Then Dredger appeared at his
side, upright and apparently unconcerned, feet planted firmly apart
on the heaving deck, one hand cupped to his mouth. "Welles!" he
cried out, his voice audible even above the onslaught of wind and
waves.

From the twilight sky rain
began to fall, adding to their misery, and assailed from both sea
and sky, his clothes soaked through though he cowered behind
Dredger, Jack shuddered, the thought of drowning working its way
into his mind.

"Welles!" Dredger bellowed a
second time, but the other man either didn't hear or simply chose
to ignore him, for he continued to direct his crewmen, furiously
giving out orders, pursuing anyone who failed to obey quickly
enough.

Striding over to the Captain,
the warrior grabbed him by the arm, turning him around roughly.
"Welles," he hissed, "how long can you hold our position without
endangering the ship?"

With a cynical smile, his face
and beard dripping with sea water, the seaman gave Dredger a
belligerent glare. "If it gets any worse," he growled, "I'll have
to head her back to Pelagian. I'll not risk running her aground on
the rocks for the sake of a few coins!"

The warrior returned his smile,
apparently full of good humour. "Tell your men to fire their
cannons at the beach."

Welles stared at Dredger with
wide eyes. "And why in heaven's name would I be doing that?"

"Because, my dear Captain, it
will bring whoever, or whatever, we are to find on that island to
us, saving us the trouble of searching for it. Time is, in this
instance, of the essence, is it not?"

Although the Captain was
sceptical, he still felt obliged, whilst he were able to do so
without unduly jeopardising his ship and crew, to follow the
warrior's instructions.

"Flanders!" he hollered to his
first mate, the rain lashing at him savagely, "make ready the
cannons!"

The sailor eyed his Captain for
a moment in confusion. "The cannons, sir?"

"That's what I said, man,"
Welles growled, "and the island is our target!" Flanders knew
better than to argue with his Captain, having served with the man
on many a long and hazardous voyage, but all the same he couldn't
help but hesitate. "Just do it!" snapped Welles, his own doubts
kept to himself for the moment.

Dredger looked on as the
cannons were made ready to fire and then the first mate himself,
brandishing a fuel soaked torch, put flame to powder and the first
cannon-ball was dispatched, the volume of its report deafening even
amidst the storm.

Jack had to cover his ears as
the ship trembled beneath him, convinced that the planks were about
to shatter, or the masts break in two and come hurtling down on
their heads. When neither of these calamities occurred, he began to
regain his composure and hardly flinched when the second cannon was
fired, not because he wasn't frightened by it, or what its
consequences might be, but because Mo was there, striding through
the rain and the sea-spray, coming toward them.

"What is this?" he asked
Dredger stiffly, the elements uniting to rock the ship alarmingly,
making it difficult for both men to keep their footing.

"There is no time to be wasted
on pleasantries," was the curt reply. "We must bring whatever it is
that we seek out into the open. This seems like as good a way as
any."

Jack couldn't stay out of
this. He was just as much a part of what was going on as his two
companions. "What happens," he called making his way over to them,
grabbing at anything remotely stable to get there, "if it
can't
come to us?"

Mo nodded his agreement. "A
good point, Jack. And it would also appear that Dredger has not
considered the possibility of harming whatever life might inhabit
the island." But the warrior made no response to these protests,
only gazing through the storm at the distant island as the sound of
intermittent cannon fire continued. "We have no choice but to go
there ourselves," Mo announced at last, "whilst we still can."

"And how will you do this?"
queried Dredger, sarcasm in his tone. "Will you walk on
water!?"

Mo pushed past him with a scowl
and went a short distance along the deck before coming to a halt.
"Captain Welles!" he shouted at the seaman, who at that moment was
engaged in passionate conversation with the first mate.

Giving the sailor a terse
instruction, the Captain dismissed him and came quickly over to
where Mo stood, grimacing through his bedraggled beard. "We must be
away from here," he pressed, his eyes warily scanning the faces of
his passengers. "The ship can't take this kind of battering for
much longer!"

"Make ready the longboat," said
Mo calmly, apparently oblivious to the Captain's concerns. "We must
be swift."