By Atonia Walpole

(Picture creations also by Atonia)

Part 1

Chapter 1

Peter Cades stood up on the seat of the wagon.  Never in his thirteen years of life had he witnessed a battle. The sounds of the men and horses and the smells of blood mixed with sweat, the new grass trampled beneath their feet. The midday sun was blazing down upon the field of battle. He’d tried to keep up with his brothers, to keep their flag in sight but the flag was down, trampled into the ground. Even to his young eyes it did not look good for his father’s kingdom. There were too many of them…too many Blackheath devils.

Mabes Makes, lifelong servant to the Cades brothers, watched the battle along with his young master. He’d been charged with keeping him out of it and at the beginning it had been a struggle but the young prince was mesmerized by the fighting now and no longer pleaded to join them. They were high on a hillock at the edge of the forest. It provided a good view of the battle.

“Mabes, look you there at the castle.” There had been smoke all morning coming from the boiling oil and pitch but now there were flames to be seen. “We must go! We must go to the castle…my father!”

Mabes caught Peter around his arms and held him fast. “What do you think a small boy could do except stop a blade?”

He watched as the flames grew higher. “It…it is the north tower.”

His attention was drawn again to the field. Off to their left a hundred men came riding over a hill to join the battle.

“Tremont.” Peter stood on tiptoe. “The Chaucers have arrived…now we’ll see the tide turn.

For awhile it looked as though the tide might indeed turn back to their favor. But having now taken the castle and staunched the fighting there, more Blackheaths poured into the field.

The sound of hoof beats came through the trees behind them and Clarence Hayes arrived with Anne Cades, her servant, Lastly, and two men from the King’s Guard.

“What news, Clarence?” Peter jumped down from the wagon seat.

“I bring sad tidings, young Peter.” Clarence Hayes, first advisor to the King and a distant cousin, dismounted his horse and took the young lad by his shoulders. “The King is dead. He went down with his sword in his hand. The north tower has fallen.”

Anne Cades, wife of Cameron Cades, dismounted and ran over to Peter, folding him in her arms for a moment. “It is a day of sadness.”

Peter looked again over the battlefield. “All is lost. We shall all die.”

To their right a warhorse broke from the battle and charged toward them, leading another horse. Upon his back slumped Cameron Cades, heir to the throne of Carnes. Monty Rhodes jumped from his horse and went to aid the guards who were now pulling the King from his horse. Blood pumped down his face.

Anne ran to him, tearing her own gown apart, and held the cloth to his forehead while they got him onto the wagon.

“Captain Rhodes.” Peter stopped him as he was preparing to mount his horse again and return to the battle. “My father, the King, is dead.”

Monty looked over Peter’s head to Clarence Hayes. “Is this true?”

“Aye, the castle has fallen.”

“Then…we must prepare for the worst.”

“Dashell…does he live?” Peter asked, afraid of the answer.

“He lives. I’ll bring him out and when we return be prepared to flee. The day is lost and this battle is over.”

Peter turned to Clarence. “But where is Celia?”

Clarence’s eyes filled and he shook his head. Dashell’s wife had been in labor at dawn when news came that the Blackheaths were coming. “I am sorry to say she is gone, Peter.

Peter frowned and lifted his chin. Dashell would be devastated. He looked back toward the field of death. Still his father’s men fought and would stand until the last man could wield a sword.

“Unhitch the horses from the wagon. It will slow us down,” Clarence ordered.

“He cannot ride.” Anne looked up from the wagon bed where she tended her wounded husband.

“Anne, he must. Strap him on his horse,” Clarence said to the guards.

Carefully they lifted him from the wagon bed and sat him upon his horse. He slumped forward and was thus strapped down.

Mabes made the horses ready, using blankets from the wagon as saddles and strapping on all utensils and food and drink he’d brought for the Cades. He and Peter mounted the wagon horses and waited.

Dashell, riding fast, along with Monty, three of Carnes soldiers, Tremont and six of his men arrived at the hillock where the rest were gathered. There was no time for conversation. With a brief glance over the group, he led them directly into the forest.

They rode hard through the forest, leaving behind the army’s final agony.  The taste of blood was still on Dashell’s tongue. He tried not to think of Celia. Her absence spoke for itself.

At last they came to the River Carnes after hours of hard riding. One by one they plunged into the river and their horses swam across. One of the King’s guardsmen was holding the reins of Cameron’s horse. Lest he become unseated from his own mount, he’d let them go for a moment. Monty, riding behind him, thought to slash him with his sword. Instead he grabbed the reins and gave the man a hard look. “You’ll answer for that!” he called over his shoulder.

They struggled up the bank and to the safety of the forest. Once they were on high ground Dashell called a halt. “We will stop here for while. The horses need to rest.” He didn’t mention the riders.

Mabes and Lastly brought all the vessels that would hold water down to the river and filled them.

Dashell took a water skin and brought it to his lips. Here before him gathered in the wood was all that was left of his father’s kingdom. He walked over to where Cameron had been laid down in a bed of pine needles with Anne in attendance.

“How is he? Will he survive?”

“He has lost a lot of blood but I fear this wound on his head is not the worst. See here how the stain spreads.”

Dashell put down his water skin and helped her remove his armor. “Tis not so bad.” He looked at the gaping wound beneath his brother’s right arm.

Anne washed the blood from Cameron’s face and the cool water brought him around. He tried to get up but Dashell pushed him back to the ground.

“Lie still while you may. The battle is over, my brother.” He reached for his hand and kissed it. “My King.”

Cameron closed his eyes and winced. “Father?”

“Father is dead. Blackheath has won the day.”

“Where…where are we, Dash?”

“Falmouth land. I think to push ahead.”

“Take Falmouth.”

“We’ve fifteen men and two women. I think not. We will pass through.”

Cameron was trying to hang on to consciousness. “We are all dead then.”

“No, not as long as we breathe. Keep breathing, Cam.”

Anne wound a bandage around his head and carefully tied it. “I know not what to do with this one.”

Dashell glanced at the wound under his arm. “We will cauterize it.”

Anne touched his arm. “Dash, I…I am so sorry about Celia. I thought you would want to know; it was a son.”

Dash closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them they were wet with tears. “Thank you, Anne.”

Prince Tomas Tremont rose from the circle where he’d been talking with his men and walked over to Dashell.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Plan? No, Tom, not yet. If we may have safe passage through Falmouth’s lands then we shall decide. Cam suggested we take Falmouth. I reminded him of our numbers.”

“Falmouth is old and vulnerable but you are right. We could not take him and he would not shelter us for fear of Blackheath on his doorstep. We are cut off here. You do realize that.”

“We do not know what lies beyond Falmouth. Have you ever known anyone to return from there?”

“No, my friend, but we know what is behind us.”

“Then we have no choice but to push forward to the end. I’d rather disappear into the unknown than to die from a Blackheath sword.”

“I agree. What of Cameron?”

“We can only pray.”

Clarence, seeing Dashell and Tremont conversing, rose from Cameron’s side and came to them.

“I am acquainted with Falmouth; shall I go and ask for shelter?”

Dashell turned to him. “Would you shelter us were you Falmouth? We shall pass as quietly as we may though his lands.”

“But, Sir, there is nothing beyond. He holds the edge of the world.” Clarence was alarmed at such talk.

“Then we shall fall off it. Would you rather go back to Carnes? The path is clear. We will go forward and may God help us.”

Peter and Monty went into the woods to hunt, bringing back a deer and several rabbits. They waited until nightfall to build a fire so that its smoke would not be visible. Tremont stationed his men along the ridge over the river to watch for Blackheaths, should they be in pursuit.

Dashell laid Cameron’s sword in the fire and while the King’s guard held him down he cauterized the wound under his arm. He cried out and then passed into unconsciousness.

Dashell leaned against a tree as part of the first watch.

“Dash,” Peter appeared at his side, “what’s to become of us?”

Dashell placed an arm around his little brother. “Do not worry, Peter. We are alive and as long as I have breath in my body I will keep us that way. Especially you.” He ruffled his hair.

“I have never seen so many men die.”

“I hope you never witness it again. That is the nature of war. Men die. Our people tried to protect our homelands. They fought well but the numbers were not on our side. Blackheath has multitudes of warriors. As he sweeps the world clean of decent men he gathers his forces and becomes stronger and stronger, men who have forgotten who they were and what they had before Blackheath.”

“I shall miss Father…and Celia.”

Dashell looked down and toed a stone away. “The first to go under Blackheath are the weak, the old and infirm. A woman who has just given birth would have been no use to him.” He gave his brother a quick hug. “You should get some sleep.”

The next morning they removed all traces of their campsite and mounted up. Once again Cameron was strapped to his horse. Still too weak to sit upright on his own his shield was strapped to his back and fixed to his saddle and he rested upon it. Anne rode at his side with one of his guards holding his reins. They rode as quickly as possible through the forest, stopping at nightfall and then beginning again. It took them three days of riding to reach the end of the world.

They all dismounted except Cameron and walked to the edge. Beyond was hidden from view in clouds of thick mist. In silence they looked. Peter picked up a stone and tossed it over the edge. He was admonished by Clarence.

“You do not know what beasts you may awake.”

“Mist rises and usually from a body of water. Do you not remember, Monty, the lake in early morn?” Dashell turned with an arched brow.

“Aye.” He looked over the edge carefully. “If it’s there it’s a long way down, Dash. Too far to jump the horses.”

“There must be a way down.” He smiled at his old friend. “We shall have to find it.”

Dashell turned to his people. “We shall find a way down. If you are full of fear of the unknown let it be said now. No one will think the less of you if you do not wish to continue. I do not know what lies beyond the edge. I do know what lies behind it. Say you to a man, are you with me or no?”

They were with him. He and Tremont set their men along the edge to try and find a way down into the mist.

Dashell went over to Cameron. “What say you, Sir?”

“I am with you, Dash. You are doing well…continue.”

Dashell patted his leg. “You stay with me, Cam. You will be needed when we reach the other side.”

Chapter 2

It was over an hour before Tremont’s men came back with a possible path. Dashell and Tom Tremont mounted and rode down to have a look.  The edge sloped down and there, hidden by brush that had been partially cleared by the men, was a narrow path cut into the side of a cliff.

Dashell jumped down onto the path. After a short while he called back. “It’s wet, slippery and narrow.”

“We’ll never get the horses down there,” Tom called. “Dash, come back, Dash!"

Tom went after him down the narrow slippery path cut into solid rock. Portions of the path had fallen away and he carefully stepped over gaps. “Dash?”

“I’m here.” Dash was just ahead of him, lost in the mist.

Dashell reached the bottom and stepped out onto wet sand. He left deep footsteps behind. Tom soon caught up with him.

“We’ve come to the sea. It’s like the bottom of the sea.”

Dashell walked ahead, running his hand along the rock wall. “I think…I think the tide is out and from the wetness of the sand this whole gorge, if indeed it be a gorge, will fill like a wine skin.”

“Shall we set out across the middle to the other side?”

“I can see no other side…can you? It is better I think to follow the wall. The sand may swallow you up out there where the bottom is uncertain.”

“It curves,” Tom said after a period of silence, “more like a bowl than a wine skin.”

Dashell stopped Tom with a touch. “Listen…sea birds?”

The wall was now casting a shadow over them. “I hear them. A shore ahead, perhaps.”

The rock wall was no longer smooth. Large jagged rocks in strange formations came out at them. Time and water had sculpted them into something rather strange and fascinating. They stopped to admire them for a moment.

“We’d better hurry, Tom. I am not familiar with tides and their timepieces.”

“The tides belong to the moon. We’ve some time yet.”

Eventually they came to the shore. It was strewn about with large boulders and the water lapped at their bases. They climbed along them until Dashell grabbed hold of a tree limb and lifted himself up. The ground below was so thick with underbrush a man could not walk it. Tom continued along the shore.

From his tree he could see the ocean. It was hard to tell from his limb but it appeared the land rose sharply to his left. He climbed higher and, yes, it did climb and joined the forest beyond. They need only to cut a path through the undergrowth. He came carefully down from his tree and followed Tom’s route around the boulders.

Tom was running back toward him excitedly. “Dash, there are boats! Two boats…come, hurry!”

They examined the two boats. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“Neither have I, Dash, but should they swim it’s our way out.”

Dashell was still looking at the odd design and the markings on the bow. “These do not belong to Falmouth. I do not recognize any of the symbols.” He jumped down from the boat. “Right you are, Tom, we shall swim away from here. What boats these may be or who they might belong to is a mystery to me but surely they are for us.”

They hacked their way through the underbrush until they came up the hill and met the forest. When they arrived and told the others of their find, some were skeptical about going across the open sea.

Dashell went to Cameron, whom they’d laid down on a bed of leaves in the shade. “What think you of this plan?”

“Your plan is to get in a boat and put out to sea. From there where do you go?”

“I do not know, Cam. How far does the sea travel?”

Cam chuckled, “I am not a seaman and I cannot answer your question. This I do know, the silk and spices we use did not come across land. They came by sea. There are other lands.” Cam turned his head toward the soldiers gathered about in knots talking. “There is not a sailor amongst them. We cast our lot with fate.”

“Surely, Sire, you do not agree to this foolhardy plan?” Clarence lowered himself to the ground by Cameron.

“Sire? I suppose I am. I don’t feel much like a king. Clarence, we have no other choice. We cannot stay here on Falmouth land without a fight and we haven’t an army to fight with. Dash is right. Trust in him as I do.” He looked toward Dash and Tom, who were sending their men to cut the underbrush.

“Tom Tremont is a valuable ally. I did not realize how important he would come to be.”

“Aye, Sir, the Chaucers are old allies of your father and grandfather. It’s a shame he could not have provided more men.”

“How many more do you think, Clarence? A thousand? They are a small kingdom as we were and I fear it will not be long before they, too, will be swallowed up by Blackheath.”

Clarence watched Peter practicing his archery. “I hope I live to see the day that young one becomes a man. He has courage enough for one so young.”

“Aye, and he will need it. Help me to sit.”

“Are you in very much pain?”

“Some. My vision is…I see two of you, Clarence, and surely there is only one.”

“Monty said you took quite a blow. It’s still early days and your wound has not healed.”

“I do not want my men to know of this. When I am well, I will take my rightful place but until then, give my brother his due. He is a leader and the men respect him.”

“So do I, Cam. I am sorry if I gave the impression I thought otherwise. I am old, too old for new adventures such as this. Casting off in a boat upon the open sea with no end in sight does not excite me.”

“Ah, Clarence, but you are much too young for death. I grieve for Dash and his loss. He has not given himself a moment for tears.”

“Cam, you are regaining your strength.” Anne went down on her knees by him with a bowl. “You must eat something.” She began spooning the broth thickened with bread into his mouth.

He looked into her eyes, all four of them. “You feed me as a child.”

“Better this than see you grope about with a spoon. Mabes and Lastly are preparing food for our journey. This will be the last of the hot food for awhile.”

He reached up and happened to find her face. “Are you not afraid, my love?”

“I am with you and I have no fear of anything as long as we are together.”

“If I should sicken and die from these wounds…no, you must listen to me. If that should happen…go to Dash and he will protect you and care for you.”

“He will not love me. For that I need you and you alone, Cam. You are my strength and when you weaken I weaken. You must be strong enough for the two of us. Now finish this bowl.”

“Strength in a bowl.”

“So it is.” She leaned over and kissed him.

Dashell and Monty were sitting cross legged on the ground finishing up their meal. They knew it may be awhile before they would eat like this again. Dashell picked up a wine bottle and drank from it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“We’ll load the horses first and hobble them in the hold of the boats Divide them up so that every man has a horse.”

“In case something happens to one of the boats?”

“Yes.”

“You and Cam should not be in the same boat. I’ll stay with Cam and Clarence. You take Peter and Tremont.”

“What of Anne and her maid?”

“I’m sure she’ll stay with Cam. We can divide the forces in half.”

“Very well. Does this sit well with you?”

“Aye, it does. I wonder whose boats we’re stealing.”

“It is not theft. It is a gift. They are not Falmouth boats.”

“I wonder that Tremont is still with us. Why did he not ride for Chaucer land?”

“I do not know. Perhaps he thought it wise to throw in with us rather than to return home with six men when he left with a hundred, although I do not fault his courage. He fought well and hard.”

“Courage in battle is one thing; courage against his father is another,” Monty chuckled.

“His father will mourn his loss...as I mourn mine.”

“It is a hard one, Dash. I am only glad that Sylvie did not live to see this happen.” Monty thought about his wife of ten years, who’d died giving birth to a stillborn babe. “To have waited so long and then…well, it’s been three years.”

“They are short years, I know. It does not go away.”

“No, eventually it hardens into something indigestible.”

“Can you swim, Tom?”

“Oh, yes, I can. I’ve been swimming in the lake since I was a wee boy. You don’t swim, do you?”

“Not really. Cam tossed me in and I nearly drowned. He thought I’d either swim or sink. I sank.”

Tom Tremont smiled. “And did he rescue you?”

“Aye, he did. I can swim like a dog now.”

“As long as you can keep your head above the water, form does not matter.”

“Will your father look for you?”

“I don’t think so. Word will have reached him by now. He dare not set foot on Carnes land again.”

“It makes me very sad. We have no home.”

“No, young Cades, no home yet, but we have boats.”

“I’m glad you’re with us, Tom.”

“I may as well be here. I’ve no prospects at home. Fifth son of a king…I’d rather take my chances with you and your brothers. Besides, I would never have made it back alive, too far to ride across Carnes land.”

“You have four brothers. I have only two. I wonder how you survived it.”

Tom laughed, “I was the youngest and they were too busy fighting amongst themselves to look for me.”

Peter laughed with him and then picked up a small stick and began marking the earth beneath them. “Clarence says there are beasts in the sea large enough to devour a man.”

“Are you afraid, Peter? It’s all right to be afraid, you know.”

“I’m not afraid to go. I will go.”

“Clarence is an old man with many fears from which to choose. You are a young man and your load is light. Do not add his to your pack.”

At dawn they were on the beach loading the horses down into the hold. A ramp appeared to be for that very purpose. Once the horses were made fast Cameron was walked up the ramp by Monty and Clarence. Anne and her maid followed and then the four soldiers which included the king’s two guardsmen. Dashell went aboard to make sure all was well with Cameron.

“You have a snug little cabin here. Take care, my brother, my King, that we may walk upon a distant shore together.”

“God be with you, Dash.” They embraced for a moment then Dashell left the boat. The soldiers pulled the ramp up and made it fast.

He hopped aboard his own boat that was now floating. He stood toward the landside for a moment and then turned to see the sails beginning to unfurl above him. A glance over at Cam’s boat showed his sails were also spread. The sky was brilliant with sunrise and the sea and the wind pulled them out towards the horizon.

Chapter 3

For three days and three nights the two boats sailed across the water without helmsman, rudder or any means to steer the course. They stayed abreast, sometimes close enough to call back and forth. When their water supply was nearly gone the rains came and filled their vessels and barrels. Each boat held a small spirit stove and the men fished and they were not hungry.

Anne bathed Cameron’s wounds in saltwater and they began to heal but his vision still had not improved. When he moved about the boat he became dizzy and nauseous and was made to lie down. It frustrated him that his strength was returning and yet this demon in his head would not leave him.

“It is the constant motion of this vessel that unmans me. Were I on solid ground I could walk about.”

Clarence had been making observations of the skies. He marked the stars and the sun and the moon.

“We are being pulled westward. A strange thing, Sire, the moon does not fade away. It becomes stronger with each passing day and quite visible while the sun is still in the sky.”

 

In the second boat the moon was also noted. Dashell looked up at the skies and clearly the moon appeared to be in competition with the sun.

“What do you make of it, Tom?”

“I could not begin to guess. We have sailed into the unknown, guided by some force, be it nature or a devil.”

“I feel no evilness sailing with us. We’ve been given fair winds, water and food from the sea.”

On the fifth day of their journey they experienced a total eclipse of the sun. All were standing on the decks and while some were fascinated, some were filled with foreboding.

“It is an ill omen, Cam. We are being led to our doom.” Clarence shaded his eyes, looking heavenward.

Cam could only blink in the direction. “Rather death on a foreign shore than under Blackheath’s rule.”

Peter moved closer to Dashell. “What does it mean, Dash?”

“It means the moon is passing the sun. Nothing more.” But it unnerved him somewhat and he noted the men on the boat were more alert and watchful. Down in the hold the horses were becoming restless.

The day passed without incident.

The next night the moon rose over the ocean full and bright and the winds increased their speed. No one was abed. They were all on deck with their eyes straining toward the horizon. The general feeling was that something was going to appear. With dawn’s light a thin strip of land rose out of the sea. Cheering on both boats could be heard across the waves.

With knowledge that their journey was coming to an end, the men lay down where they stood and slept peacefully throughout the morning.

Cam stepped over his men and went to the side, looking toward the shore. There were times when his vision became clear and as near as he could determine the land looked to be a series undulating hills not unlike Carnes land. Higher mountains revealed themselves as they neared and the sun began to rise in the sky.

“Can you see it, Cam?”

He reached for Anne’s hand. “Yes, and I do not know what world we have come upon. Will there be men or beasts?”

“You have been listening to Clarence, my darling. What beasts walk upon the land that you cannot diminish?”

Cameron looked at her uncertainly.

“Make ready for landing!” Monty called out over the deck. He walked over to Cameron. “It appears our journey has come to an end.”

“Our water journey has ended but what lies ahead is unknown. There may yet be worlds to conquer.”

“I have not seen any other watercraft about.”

“I have noticed that, Monty. Nor have I seen a living soul.”

Aboard the second boat they’d already donned their armor and weapons. Dashell held Peter before him with a comforting hand on his shoulder. The men were quiet with anticipation and not a little fear. If they spoke at all, it was in hushed tones.

Dashell’s boat pulled ahead and into a quiet bay. There it came to a stop along a wooden dock protruding out from a sandy bank. One of Tremont’s men jumped to the dock and secured the boat. The ramp was let down and they walked out onto new ground.

When Cameron’s boat docked they formed a corridor on either side of him as he came ashore. Anne held his hand tightly.

“No one to welcome us,” Cameron said quietly.

“Perhaps we are not welcome,” Dashell answered him as he surveyed the bay and the beach.

“It’s too late now.” Monty looked to the boats where the horses were being brought ashore. “I propose a scouting party of this area before we move out. I’ll take a few men and see to our safety.”

Cam looked around at him. “Yes, by all means…scout.”

“Sorry, My Liege.” He bowed his head slightly.

“We will not stand on ceremony here. Go about your business.” Cameron waived him onward. “There is enough to concern me without whether a man pays a certain respect to me as king. We are all friends and have known each other since our time began. Were I sitting in Carnes castle it might be a different story.”

Dashell smiled, “The crown does not sit easily on your head, dear brother.”

“I shall accompany you.” Tom Tremont walked with Monty toward their horses.

“I am even without that. My crown is around Blackheath’s head. No matter, we are all men here and must see to our survival and that of our horses. Have the men find some grazing ground.”

Peter went with Mabes and two of Tremont’s men, leading the horses up from the shoreline. Just beyond a stand of trees lay a meadow with sweet grass and a freshwater brook.

Monty determined it was a footpath they’d come upon and he led his men forward. The trees were enormous, aged things that formed a shady canopy far overhead. From there he could hear birdsong and the occasional sound of a woodpecker hard at work. Farther on, the footpath entered a road paved with stones worn flat.

Tom rode up beside him. “I am hearing sounds…almost like music.”

Monty glanced over at him. “A harp. I heard it awhile back.”

“Harps don’t play themselves. There must be people around somewhere.”

“By God, look you there!”

They’d come upon another bay, shaped like a horseshoe and in the center of the clear turquoise water sat a temple high upon a hill. Its marble columns reached toward the skies. A narrow bridge led to wide marble steps that led up to the temple. All about the bay were small boats empty of occupants and the water was littered with floating flowers.

“It’s the temple of a god,” Tom ventured.

“What god has summoned us, a handful of refugees from Carnes land?”

“The king should be with us when we approach.”

“Yes,” Monty said quickly. He turned his horse around and hurried toward the bay where they’d docked.

The arrival of the scouting party brought them all around in a circle. Monty dismounted and went to Cameron, paying his respect before he spoke.

“Sir, we have come upon what we believe to be a god’s temple.” Monty described it to Cameron.

Cameron looked at Dashell. “Shall we pay him a visit?”

“All of us?” Peter asked.

“Very well, all of you…take your places.” Cameron’s horse was brought to him and he mounted without help. He felt more like himself now that he was on solid ground. His head had cleared and for the most part his vision.

They rode single file until they reached the road. Tom Tremont led the way with Cameron and Dashell behind him, Anne and Peter then Clarence. Monty rode in front of what forces they had and the servants brought up the rear.

When they reached the bridge they dismounted and left the horses with the servants and two of Tremont’s men. Cameron led the way across the bridge and up the steps. Inside the temple the sound of a harp and lyre and flute could be heard, and voices.

There were many people in the temple and all of them exquisitely beautiful.  Cameron stopped his entourage at the entrance. The occupants appeared to be celebrating some sort of feast as the tables were heavily laden with food and wine.  All this Cameron saw in a glance for his attention was drawn to a high platform and a huge throne where sat a giant of a man.

Anne’s breath caught in her throat. He was a giant of such beauty as she’d never seen on a man. His hair was the color of new corn silk and flowed over his shoulders. His skin luminescent and reflecting the light. Straight dark brows lay over eyes of midnight blue. His lips were finely formed and slightly curved upward. About his hair circled a band of silver rich with engravings of the phases of the moon. He wore a simple white sarong belted with a gleaming sword at his waist.

Peter was dumbstruck. With his mouth hanging open, he tugged at Anne’s sleeve. She shook her head and placed a finger on her lips.

To a man they bowed deeply and then looked forward, awaiting their fate. The temple had grown silent.

The voice boomed out over the room. “I am Mani. I am the moon. Welcome to Moonbow.”

ON TO MOONBOW, PART 2

BACK TO LIBRISCROWE