I didn’t know whether to explode with rage or to collapse in tears. The little body the woman had been holding, outside her hut, it wasn’t a child, I was certain. It was a doll. It was a doll. Her child…
I walked on another half mile and heard a rushing on the wind and an iron arrow was flying out of the trees straight at my heart but my shield was enough: the arrow clanged onto its great iron boss and dropped to the floor where it dissolved with a hiss of steam and a wisp of evil-smelling smoke.
Still maintaining a steady pace I turned a corner to find four horsemen waiting in line. The first on a white horse, with a great sword with which he would conquer, for none could stand against him, his brow was mighty and stern and his eyes were dark and pitiless; the second was red and him that sat on it brought anger and strife to the world, and was ready to raise nation against nation and cast them all down, his cloak was hooded and his eyes burned like coals; the third carried a bag in which was blight, and mould, and fungus, and rot for all the food in the world, and soil that would grow nothing and would infect the earth, and the name of the soil was wormwood and his head was emaciated, with pits of darkness in his eyes; and the fourth was on a pale horse, hooded and his head was nothing but a mesh of veins and on his brow was his name which was Death and Hell and all the beasts of hell followed him, dogs slavering at the mouth and with sharpened teeth that were eager to rip living flesh and devour it. They turned their heads towards me and they knew my name and I was afraid. The horses moved together in a line and came toward me.
I closed my eyes and waved my hand to dispel the illusion and I opened them and they were still marching towards me, line abreast and the dogs of hell had foetid breath which I could smell as they hungered for me and my legs turned to water under me and I nearly fainted away with fear.
I closed my eyes and said ‘Lord, aid me in my hour of need. St Michael, stand before me with your sword and shield for my need is great.’ I opened my eyes and I knew what to say.
‘Get back,’ my voice boomed, ‘return to your appointed place for your time is not yet come! In the Most Holy Name of Our Lord Jesus Christ I command you to return until the time appointed by God, the One True God who is the Lord and Master of all!’ And the horsemen and their hellpack vanished, leaving only the smell of sulphur and rotting flesh, which was blown away on the breeze.
I fell to my knees, gasping with fear and thanking God for my deliverance. After a couple of moments I stood again and resumed my march forwards.
I was entombed in rock that had leaped up around me with a silent clang. It closed in and held me tight in every direction. I couldn’t move so much as a finger and it slithered its way in through my nose, my mouth, my ears, my eyes and I was suffocating. My chest tried to heave for breath but the rock that was my tomb would not allow it and my flesh turned cold as I was absorbed, becoming the rock itself. I tried to close my eyes but my eyelids were made of rock and they would not move, save perhaps an inch in a century. But I could see nothing anyway and my mind could close its eyes while I concentrated, ignoring my body’s despair and quest for breath and I remembered the track and the trees and the watery light that was filtered through it, fading and turning red as the sun went down and I could breathe again and all was as I had remembered.
It was time to fight back.
I located my adversary and crashed a mountain of rock on top of him. It came pouring down, endless and limitless as the sky. All the rock in the world fell on this one point and when that was used up the moon fell from the sky and shattered, pouring on top of the enemy, the Druid who had betrayed his trust, then the stars fell on the place where the traitor lay, being crushed under the weight of a thousand worlds and then I was walking forward again. Ieuan had repulsed the attack. I carried on a few steps and launched again.
Walls of water poured down from the hills and swept through the forest, snapping trees like twigs, uprooting great oaks and tossing them like kindling. The old and wrecked body of the Druid could not withstand such force and was picked up and cartwheeled through the flood, spinning around and around and making thought impossible, he could not break out for the sea came rushing up the valley to smash into the mountain waters, the Druid being a forgotten, insignificant twig of no consequence, caught between the two titanic forces as they contended for mastery but I was walking through the trees again.
I rounded another twist in the path and drew my sword. Coivin lay before me, dying from his wounds and drowning in his own blood. I moved to help him, to make amends,
‘Coivin! No! Coivin! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean...’ I stopped short, closed my eyes, shook my head and looked again.
Ieuan was struggling to his feet, breathing heavily, just forty feet away. His horse was tethered to a tree nearby. It had suffered no direct attack but it been caught in the backwash and was whinnying in terror.
“Ieuan,” I said, “let the poor creature go. This is between you and me alone and must be sorted with swords, I think, for neither of us can overcome the other.”
“Pity,” said Ieuan, who was upright again, “pity and compassion for everything. You weakling! You cannot stand against me! I will best you when the sun goes down and my Master’s strength waxes! You will lose, Ciaran!”
“I am Anselm, traitor, and I won’t wait that long. Your Master was beaten by God before time began. It’s over, Ieuan,” I continued in a more controlled tone, “surrender now and beg forgiveness for what you’ve done. There can still be mercy.”
“What have I to look forward to but death? No-one will understand. They will torture me and hang me. Why should I give myself up?”
“Ieuan, you know you must pay for the crimes you have committed. Murder, Ieuan, and of children! Hundreds of them! Or is it thousands? If you don’t pay now and seek forgiveness then, if you’re lucky, you will have to pay through a hundred lifetimes. Seek forgiveness. Repent now.”
“And your all-merciful God will forgive me? Let me go live?”
“I fear you will go to hell without any chance of redemption in future lives if you don’t repent.” Ieuan looked suddenly fearful.
“But...” he said, “we all go to the Orchard, we all have the chance to try again.”
“Some crimes are too monstrous. Especially if there is no remorse. You may be thrown out of the Circle of Life forever for what you’ve done.”
“No,” Ieuan shook his wasted head, “what I did I did for the best. I wanted to save our people. Our people, Ciaran!”
“No,” I shook my head in his turn. “No you didn’t. You did it for yourself. You allowed yourself to become a tool of the Enemy and to carry out devil’s work. You never saved anyone or anything. You killed children to feed a demon’s foul appetite and have fatally weakened a kingdom. You have done the Enemy’s work for him and he laughs at your despair!