The Tattooed Woman Pt. 34

Looking up at Ellén, Cassie smiled, "I see the magick everywhere! It's in everything! Do you think this is how Adair sees things always?"

"Perhaps."

The girl traced a hand across the tunic and cloak the Dragon was wearing before winding her fingers in the laces, "That's Magda's good shirt, and the cloak? Ohhh, there's an enchantment in that."

The demented young woman froze a moment, "Gods I'm hungry."

"Mayhap we should eat then."

Cassies eyes gleamed as she began to tug Ellén towards the bedroll, "Later, much later, there's something we need to do first."

Ellén grinned, "Oh, you are going to have such a hangover come morning."

Urgent hands began fumbling with the laces of her clothing, "Don't care!"

...

Adair sat under the trees a while, listening to the song of a Winter robin. She watched the red-breasted creature strut about on a low branch and chuckled, "Ah, 'tis a bold fellow you are, Master Robin, and a bonny tune you sing."

The draw was becoming irksome, and she shook her head with a sigh as she spoke to the bird once more, "Well, let's get this done shall we."

Rising to her feet she canted the spear she bore across her shoulder and wandered off towards the smoke.

Passing over the battlefield she paused a moment to cast her gaze upon the fallen monster that lay there. Orcs were busily stripping scale and tooth from the cadaver, and she nodded. Eventually nothing would remain of the corpse save charred bone, and far as she was concerned it couldn't come soon enough, "You're no prettier now than when I killed you the first-time, beast. Maybe this time you'll do me the courtesy of staying dead."

Moving beyond the churned earth of the battlefield her steps drew her slowly, but surely, towards the mighty cromlech that marked the great barrow. Reaching its base, she eyed the grass-covered mound for a long moment before turning her gaze up to the stone towering above.

Hefting her spear, she closed her eyes and drew a heavy breath, before tapping the butt of the glaive just once upon the earth.

The impact of her stroke reverberated about the vale and with a shudder the soil simply fell away from the hillside in a small avalanche, revealing a mighty stone door that stood many times the height of a tall man. Both door and frame were engraved with serpentine glyphs of a kind she had not seen since the days of her youth and the door itself looked to have been carefully sealed with molten lead.

Stepping up to the door she paused, "This is a terrible idea."

Lifting her hand, she struck the door.

At her touch the seals exploded into dust and there came a great grinding noise as the door slowly rumbled open revealing a dark passage beyond.

Brilliant flame engulfed the blade of her spear as she crossed the threshold, causing the shadows that clung to the engraved walls to dance and cavort, and already she could hear the enticing whispers from below.

Her footsteps echoed along the haunted passage as she made her way down and she could feel the weight of the ancient barrow piled upon her. The darkness itself seemed to grow thick, but she was no mortal child, and her eyes pierced the stygian gloom. She knew there were no night terrors or gaunts to be found here, and no ghost or wight would ever dare to linger in such a place. No, she knew what lurked in the darkness below, and it was far far worse than any mere fiend.

The passage led deep within the earth before opening into a large domed chamber, and there, within this ancient tomb, where he had been placed in honour of his courage, sat Magog, mightiest of giants.

He sat upon a throne; a throne crafted by wyrd means from the very bones of the Dragon he had slain so long ago. His horned helm was dented, his armour torn and charred, but he still clutched the hilt of his great claymore sword with dread purpose, and even now, in death, she could almost feel his fell gaze upon her, and she shuddered.

Adair bowed her head respectfully to the fallen hero and waited.

The darkness pressed down on her, but the flames of her spear burned all the brighter in response, carelessly casting back the shadows. Her breath misted before her, she felt the chill seeping into her bones, and she knew.

The voice that came from the darkness was a familiar echo of one she remembered from long ago, but it was cold, and there came with it a charnel waft, like a faint breeze carried over a distant slaughterhouse and she shuddered.

"He was truly mighty. Outmatched and outnumbered he knew his doom was upon him, but never once did he turn his back, never once did he give in to despair, and he spat defiance to the very end. He was a worthy foe."

The darkness took shape, and the creature came into view. She was tall, her long hair was as black as a raven's wing and her skin as pale as death. Her voluminous garb was dark, but Adair could see the glinting of blackest mail beneath it, and her burning eyes gleamed like blood-soaked rubies.

She smiled a hungry smile at Adair. It was the smile of wolf and shark, and it held the promise of endless slaughter. Stretching out her hand in greeting she beckoned, "Hello, my daughter, have you come to set me loose at last?"

Adair whispered the name as she took her hand.

"Nemain."