D.R. Ross is a new author of fantasy short stories
Tree Song
Short fantasy story by D.R. Ross, © 2008
General Korgian and the other knights insisted there was nothing to fear. It was just a forest, they had said. Other than the strange silence, there was no reason why the soldiers should be expecting an assault. Despite the legends, there was nothing extraordinary in these woods.
But the knights were wrong. This forest was sacred. These soldiers did not belong here and they knew it.
The soldiers did not know what would happen in these mysterious woods, but what came was not what they had anticipated. A shrill cry broke the silence. The men flinched fearfully. The knights took a defensive stance with their weapons held before them while the foot soldiers reluctantly followed their lead. Bewildered and afraid, the men looked about with wide-eyed terror for the monsters they could not see but suspected were nearby.
The piercing cry turned into a horrible inhuman wail followed by the sounds of roaring beasts. Then suddenly, a hoard of birds broke through the mist. They swarmed over the soldiers, pecking at their armor or piercing their flesh. Despite the little damaged the small birds were able to inflict, they succeeded in terrifying the already frightened soldiers. The ranks fell apart as men turned and fled back the way they had come.
"Stand your ground!" the mounted knights hollered. "Stand your ground! They're just birds, for the love of light!"
As most of the knights struggled to regain order with threats or words of courage, one mounted knight remained immobile. Derin was a man not yet forty but a seasoned warrior none-the-less. His face remained passive and his lean but strong frame was relaxed even as the birds pecked at him. He wore heavy chain mail from neck to thigh, a battered metal breast and back plate, and thick leather boots that came up to his knees. His black hair was long enough to blend with the dark horse-hair falling from the back of his plumed helmet.
Derin was supposed to help restrain his men, but he said and did nothing. He knew the soldiers were not supposed to be here. While his superiors had insisted that the stories of the Tethran woods were nothing more than old superstition, Derin maintained otherwise.
Even before he had entered the forest, he heard its timeless song. This forest was the last sacred place on earth; the only place left untainted by men. There was no doubt in Derin's mind that it had stood unmolested for so long for a very good reason. So why was he here, Derin asked himself. Why did he travel where he knew in his heart that he should not be? Because as a soldier, he followed orders, because this life as a soldier was all he had left.
Then just as suddenly as they had appeared, the birds vanished as they flew out of sight. The woods fell eerily silent once again. As the other knights struggled to regain order, a soft breeze picked up. Derin closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh wood-scented air. Using the skills he had learned as a child, he listened to the words in the forest's song. "Stay away", "Leave now", "Begone", he heard it say.
Eventually, the soldiers were brought back into their ranks. The fog slowly lifted as the men were forced to continue their trek. It was off to war they went. The men of Tethra marched through the sacred Tethran forest to fight with the men of Ungal. This never-ending war had gone on for so many years that the reason for war had been long-since forgotten. But still, they hated and fought.
Derin hated, but he didn't hate his enemy. He hated the uselessness of the ongoing battles. He despised the slaughter that both sides participated in. Many towns had been destroyed. Innocent women and children were needlessly abused and murdered. It was disgusting. Derin had once believed he was fighting a just war. But he had seen too much, done too much, and lost too much. Now he just wanted it all to end. He said nothing of this to his comrades-in-arms. He just mechanically did as he was told and hoped to soon die in battle.
With the mist dissipating and the forest gloom lifting away the men moved forward with a little more ease. The knights soon convinced them that they had simply startled a flock of birds. If this was the worst the forest could do, then they were safe, the knights had said. Derin, however, knew otherwise.
A chill hung in the air. Gangly skeletal limbs reached out over their path. Although normal sounds of the forest could now be heard, Derin saw no signs of animal life. But something was watching them; something hidden. He could feel its critical gaze as hundreds of men and horses trudged a black gouge through the sacred forest. The soldiers still had far to go and the forest had plenty of time to try again.
Unknown to most of the soldiers, the woods sang. It was a song of deep sadness for what was being lost, frustration at the violation of the intruders, and helplessness at being unable to stop them. The days of magic were waning. Soon magic would be all gone and no one would be left to hear the songs of the great oaks. But despite the inevitableness of their destruction, the forest was determined to resist.
As the main army lingered along the pathway for a brief rest, Derin followed a small animal trail into the woods. He tread with care as he made his way towards one of the sources of the forest's song. A soft breeze rustled leaves and grass and caressed his face. The air was fresh with the scent of Mother Earth, zesty pine, and fragrant flowers.
Before long, Derin stood beneath a giant oak and gazed up at its lofty boughs. The oak's song hummed through his body. Derin reached out his hand and reverently touched the great tree. The moment his fingers touched the rough bark, the song grew and filled his entire body with a radiating warmth. The melody resounded clearly, but not so much with a sound that could be heard with the ears as with a feeling that could be embraced. The song was a mixture of emotions, the strongest being that of sorrow. Slow and mournful, the lamentation stirred a deep sadness within Derin's own heart, making him want to weep.
Long ago, the forest covered a great expanse of land and was full of cheerful and magical creatures. Happy were its days when the rambunctious gnomes danced beneath the trees, when the mischievous wood fairies nestled in its great arms, when the timeless elves pruned its branches and sang their own songs with harmonious delight. But those days were long gone. The forest dwindled as man ate at its edges with axes and ploughs. The woodland creatures hid in fear, seldom ever singing and dancing.
Mixed within the woeful sadness of the tree's song was the wail of helplessness. The great forest was once full of magic that kept the forest safe and intruders at bay. But with magic slowly dying away, the forest was vulnerable. There was no longer enough magic to keep the invaders from entering. Its magic was slowly being eaten away by the violations of man. But some of the forest would still try to resist, as was evident in the occasional melody of indignation and frustration heard in the song. Neither the men nor Derin himself would be immune to the dangers. Even though Derin was one of the few who could still hear the tree's song, he was a violator as well.
As Derin lost himself in the sadness of the song, he was interrupted by an intrusive sound. He snapped out of his trance as though he had been violently struck. Derin turned away from the tree with uncharacteristic anger. A scowl formed upon his brow. But Commander Kreg didn't seem to notice the look. He was a fool of a man, ignorant yet arrogantly certain of his perceived superiority. Kreg was of the same rank as Derin. He was the same age and the same height, but that was where the similarities ended. Kreg was a heavyset man with light bushy hair. His beard was thick and his bright blue eyes contrasted sharply with Derin's dark piercing gaze.
"What 'r' ya doin'," Kreg asked with an amused and condescending look on his face.
"Do you have any idea how old this tree is, Kreg?" Derin asked bitingly. "Do you know how many ages it has seen? It could tell great stories, but few even bother to hear them anymore." Derin knew Kreg could care less. It was like talking to a fish about air or to a tree about the desert.
Kreg laughed mockingly. "You're one of those, are ya? I never took you to be one of them tree-worshipers. Next you'll be telling me that fairies are real, that there really is such a thing as gnomes and dragons, and that there were once men who could move the earth with their mind. Wake up, Derin. All there is is what you see."
Derin smothered his anger. He could hear the tree's song. It was real. This world was full of things that Kreg would never understand. But just because the fat ignorant brute couldn't comprehend, didn't mean it didn't exist.
...To continue this story, go to the Creatures of Magic link below.
The Celtic Dragon
by D.R. Ross © 2008
Darkness nestled over the land of Britannia(4) as its people slept peacefully under their thatched roofing. A soft wind whispered through the moonlit fields. Crickets sung a tranquil song while the owls hunted silently in the nearby woods. The crackling of hearth fires had long since diminished to a soft quiet glow. Every man, woman, and child dreamt pleasant dreams of the Beltain(5) celebrations to come.
Their peace was shattered when an unnatural scream of pain and despair thundered across the land. Like a storm-churned sea it roared, sending a terrible tremor through the earth. The night suddenly became alive as birds fled from the trees, wolves barked and howled in fright, animals both domestic and wild cried out and ran blindly into the night in a desperate attempt to escape whatever fearsome creature had made the sound.
King Lludd awoke with terror. He sat up suddenly and drew his blankets to his chest. King Lludd was a warrior and afraid of nothing, but something about this loud eerie cry sent a chill to his bones. He began to shake uncontrollably and almost whimpered like a child. He thought about getting up to take his sword, but panic had taken him. He was afraid to move, let alone cry out.
As King Lludd sat shivering in the darkness with unnatural fear, the city of Caerludd(6) began to stir with the sounds of sobbing women, screaming children, and groaning men. King Lludd sat up all night in anticipation of an attack, but the source of the cry was never revealed. He seemed to remember this loud scream being heard before, but that was at least a year ago. It never revealed itself then either and King Lludd had soon forgotten all about it.
It was a dreary morning when the inexplicable fear finally left him and King Lludd was able to get out of bed. Knowing his people would be concerned about the terrible noise they heard in the night, King Lludd went out to meet them. He came upon the center of their stronghold to find it crowded with people waiting for him. Women pleaded for his assistance with the sudden misery that had fallen upon them. Men angrily demanded that action be taken immediately against the treacherous act. The complaints so filled King Lludd's ears that he could only make out a few of their words.
"What is going on here?" King Lludd asked his closest friend, Cyric. Cyric was shorter than King Lludd, but still a tall man. He was a broad-shouldered warrior with great arms. His hair and beard was a dark shade of blond, his brows bushy and his eyes dark. He had almost a raptor gaze as he looked beyond the earthen walls of the stronghold to the land beyond.
"Did you not hear that terrible sound last night, my King?"
"I heard a bit of a noise but went back to sleep," King Lludd lied. He was a king and supposed to always be strong and brave, not cowering in his bed like a whipped dog.
"Went back to sleep?!" Cyric proclaimed. "How could you have gone to sleep? I was awake all night expecting the heavens to come crashing down upon me at any moment."
"We've heard this noise before," King Lludd said dismissively. "Nothing ever harmed us then."
"No, but something harmed the land. The people are saying that their crops have been destroyed again. Barley and hay that was healthy the day before has wilted and rotted. This is the second year in a row. I'm not sure how much more we can take before we all go hungry. Especially when the food in the royal larders keeps disappearing."
"What about the women and children?" King Lludd asked. "Did the same happen to them?"
"Yes, my King. I have heard women crying that they have miscarried or that their children have gone mad."
King Lludd frowned darkly in frustration. "Do you think the Coranieid(7) had anything to do with this?" The Coranieid were a magical race of invaders that had been nothing but trouble for the past year or so. Somehow, these people, if they could be called people, managed to overhear every plan the King had made to stop them. And in doing so, they thwarted the King while becoming more and more invincible.
"I'm not certain, my King," Cyric shrugged. "It wouldn't surprise me with the wicked magic that they possess."
"Did any of the warriors find any clues as to what caused this when they went out to scout?"
For a moment, Cyric said nothing. He looked to the ground shamefully as he replied, "None have ventured out, my King."
King Lludd would have reprimanded him, but then he recalled his own unwillingness to even get out of bed. The terribly cry last night was an unholy sound, most likely imbibed with magic that had men fainting with unnatural terror.
"I will address the people and afterwards we will go to council," King Lludd said with a worried look across his brow.
Cyric nodded in understanding and King Lludd took his place before the people. Generally, when the King presented himself everyone went quiet. But not this time. It was a sign of the fear and worry these people felt that kept them from behaving as they normally would.
*****
After trying unsuccessfully to reassure the people, King Lludd gathered with the druids and the elders of the community. It was soon determined that this exact same event occurred exactly one year ago on the eve of May Day. Just like last year the wells went dry, both the land and the animals had become barren, women lost the babes in their womb while their children cried with madness. And all the while the men hid under their covers in fear.
Britannia was being menaced with three plagues: the Coranieid, the troubling scream on the eve of May Day, and the mysterious disappearance of the food in the royal larders. No one had any ideas on what to do. Everything they ever tried had failed.
"Perhaps we should ask your brother, King Llevelys, for help," one of the elders advised.
King Lludd brightened. "Yes, he would know. He is much wiser than I."
"Quite true, my King," Cyric replied. King Lludd glowered at him. Cyric tended to agree with everything the King said, even if it was something insulting. Cyric always proclaimed he didn't mean to offend him, but King Lludd suspected that Cyric knew exactly what he was saying. However, King Lludd had other concerns to deal with at this time so he let the remark pass.
"How will we contact your brother?" one of the other elders asked. "He is all the way in Gual(8). It will take months to get word to him and months to get word back.
"Wait!" the wisest of the druids interrupted. "We can't make any plans without the Coranieid using their magic to overhear it. Whatever we do, it must be kept quiet."
"Yes, agreed," King Lludd exclaimed as he smacked his hand upon the table.
With that, the men began to talk with their hands or to draw symbols. With much confusion and misunderstanding, a plan finally became clear. Orders were soon made for the brothers to meet halfway across the channel(9).
*****
A strong cool wind blew across the sea. King Lludd stood back from the shore with his colorful cloak wrapped around his shoulders. His blond-graying hair fluttered in the wind as waves of cold ocean water rolled onto the beach. The fresh tangy smell of salt filled his nostrils as he watched a crew of men silently and stealthily prepare the ships. Strong Celtic warriors stood guard on the shores, keeping a careful eye out for the crafty Coranieid.
With no mishap, King Lludd and a company of men were on the way. It was tedious travel across the treacherous waters of the channel. The wind was not always in their favor so the ship crews were forced to take down the sails and row instead. Sometimes the waters were calm and sometimes the winds built gigantic swells that one moment put them at the top of the world and another moment almost seemed to swallow them whole.
Eventually, the ships of King Lludd's brother came into view. King Lludd would have shouted with joy but everyone, including himself, had sworn to keep silent. The Coranieid's power worked even out at sea since their magic encompassed all matters of nature. King Lludd could not speak for fear that his words would be carried by the wind to his enemies.
The two ships met and King Llevelys transferred to King Lludd's ship. The two embraced with brotherly affection. King Lludd's powerful warrior arms squeezed tight around his younger brother's smaller frame. Llevelys was King Lludd's favorite brother by far, although the two were quite different from one another. King Lludd was a strong and powerful warrior. He was tall and powerfully built. King Llevelys was also tall, but he was rather lean. While King Lludd was like a great bull on the battlefield possessing great strategy and strenghth, King Llevelys was like the Salmon of Knowledge(10) when it came to people, nature, and magic. King Lludd always thought that his brother would have made a good druid.
As the two brothers stood face to face, it was evident that they had much to say to one another. King Lludd hadn't thought about how he and his brother would communicate so his look of happiness soon turned to one of confusion. But King Llevelys, the far wiser of the two, pulled from his pack a great horn. He put the horn to his lips and with a gesture motioned his brother to lean his ear to the other side.
King Lludd bent to the wider opening of the horn and listened anxiously as his brother spoke. To his astonishment, instead of a greeting King Llevelys spoke curses. King Lludd straightened in sudden shock and gave his brother a questioning look. King Llevelys's face did not have the look of one that just spoke angry curses ... This story is continued at the Creatures of Magic link below.
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- For more short stories by D.R. Ross, check out this link. Another short stories by this author is "Keeper of the Dragon's Fire. There is also a poem called "Death of a Wretched Man". The author is adding other short stories all the time.
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