said, struck by a sudden premonition. "Huge heartless monstrosities of stone, people crowded in like pigs, rife with disease from the slop of humanity."
"You paint a pretty picture, my friend."
It was as though a goose had walked across his grave - despite the blistering heat a shiver ran down the rungs of his spine. The revelation was not a pleasant one but that did not make it any less true. But what could he do? He was one man. No, he corrected himself, he was Sláine Mac Roth, son of the Sessair, beloved of Danu.
"I understand your pain," Sláine whispered, not to Ukko, nor even the Morrigan, but to the Goddess who could not possibly hear him: Danu, the Earth Mother. Slough Feg's taint was just the beginning of one long future that would destroy her. How could she live with such knowledge? "I will be the champion you need."
"Why thank you, Sláine. I never knew you cared. I've got to admit I'm touched," Ukko grinned and jumped up to his feet, dusting his hands off. "So how about we go fill our bellies, oh great champion of mine?"
"You'll be touched in a minute," Sláine muttered, cuffing Ukko around the back of the head. "Oh, look, I can foretell the future. In fact if I concentrate hard enough I can see a world of hurt waiting for you, runt. Who would have thought being a seer would be so easy?"
"All right, all right, no need to be like that," Ukko grumbled, rubbing at his head. "It's not as though I asked you to be my champion, you volunteered. Let's go find some food, please ."
"I am not sure I would eat anything from this place. Take a look at it; what do you see? It is dead. There is no spirit here. How can anything offer sustenance when the ground is barren?"
"Well, if it hadn't taken you a month of Sundays to get here, maybe I would be more picky, but as it stands I am willing to risk it."
They entered the city on the edge of the desert.
The heat of the sand burned through the leather of Sláine's boots, scorching his feet. Ukko didn't look much happier with his plight, hopping from one foot to another animatedly as he scurried forwards. Sláine walked slowly, awed by the might of Purgadair. They were not alone on the path. A traveller walked a little way in front of them. He appeared lost in thought. His grubby grey robes marked him as some kind of druid, if this realm still paid heed to the land. As Sláine neared, he heard peculiar half-whispered words tripping off the traveller's lips, oblivious to the world around him.
He wiped sweat from his brow and as he did, his hood slipped and Sláine saw him for what he was: an abomination of the flesh, a fusion of animals, raven, rat, badger, and hound somehow mutated into a man. Worse, he looked at them as though they were the mutants.
The three of them approached the twin columns of the towering city gate that symbolically denoted the entrance into Purgadair. The gates were guarded by lean, tanned warriors in light leather armour. They wore short brutish stabbing swords at their sides, leather kilts and flat sandals. Their faces, like the traveller's, were a repulsive fusion of so many creatures it was almost impossible for Sláine to be sure exactly which poor animals had found themselves melded into these horrific creatures.
"Good morning, warden," one of the gathered guards said as the traveller neared the gates. He offered a slight bow. The traveller, seemingly lost in his prayer, didn't notice the guards until he collided bodily with one of them.
Sláine stepped up beside him, dragging Ukko with him. If all of the inhabitants of this city bore the same ruinous flesh and animalistic features they would need to find themselves cloaks and hoods or they would draw every eye in the damned place.
They reached the gate side by side.
Still mumbling incoherently, the traveller looked up to meet the guard's eye. Sláine read the unquenchable fire of madness blazed behind his dark eyes. The guard backed up a step under the sheer intensity of his stare. A
"You paint a pretty picture, my friend."
It was as though a goose had walked across his grave - despite the blistering heat a shiver ran down the rungs of his spine. The revelation was not a pleasant one but that did not make it any less true. But what could he do? He was one man. No, he corrected himself, he was Sláine Mac Roth, son of the Sessair, beloved of Danu.
"I understand your pain," Sláine whispered, not to Ukko, nor even the Morrigan, but to the Goddess who could not possibly hear him: Danu, the Earth Mother. Slough Feg's taint was just the beginning of one long future that would destroy her. How could she live with such knowledge? "I will be the champion you need."
"Why thank you, Sláine. I never knew you cared. I've got to admit I'm touched," Ukko grinned and jumped up to his feet, dusting his hands off. "So how about we go fill our bellies, oh great champion of mine?"
"You'll be touched in a minute," Sláine muttered, cuffing Ukko around the back of the head. "Oh, look, I can foretell the future. In fact if I concentrate hard enough I can see a world of hurt waiting for you, runt. Who would have thought being a seer would be so easy?"
"All right, all right, no need to be like that," Ukko grumbled, rubbing at his head. "It's not as though I asked you to be my champion, you volunteered. Let's go find some food, please ."
"I am not sure I would eat anything from this place. Take a look at it; what do you see? It is dead. There is no spirit here. How can anything offer sustenance when the ground is barren?"
"Well, if it hadn't taken you a month of Sundays to get here, maybe I would be more picky, but as it stands I am willing to risk it."
They entered the city on the edge of the desert.
The heat of the sand burned through the leather of Sláine's boots, scorching his feet. Ukko didn't look much happier with his plight, hopping from one foot to another animatedly as he scurried forwards. Sláine walked slowly, awed by the might of Purgadair. They were not alone on the path. A traveller walked a little way in front of them. He appeared lost in thought. His grubby grey robes marked him as some kind of druid, if this realm still paid heed to the land. As Sláine neared, he heard peculiar half-whispered words tripping off the traveller's lips, oblivious to the world around him.
He wiped sweat from his brow and as he did, his hood slipped and Sláine saw him for what he was: an abomination of the flesh, a fusion of animals, raven, rat, badger, and hound somehow mutated into a man. Worse, he looked at them as though they were the mutants.
The three of them approached the twin columns of the towering city gate that symbolically denoted the entrance into Purgadair. The gates were guarded by lean, tanned warriors in light leather armour. They wore short brutish stabbing swords at their sides, leather kilts and flat sandals. Their faces, like the traveller's, were a repulsive fusion of so many creatures it was almost impossible for Sláine to be sure exactly which poor animals had found themselves melded into these horrific creatures.
"Good morning, warden," one of the gathered guards said as the traveller neared the gates. He offered a slight bow. The traveller, seemingly lost in his prayer, didn't notice the guards until he collided bodily with one of them.
Sláine stepped up beside him, dragging Ukko with him. If all of the inhabitants of this city bore the same ruinous flesh and animalistic features they would need to find themselves cloaks and hoods or they would draw every eye in the damned place.
They reached the gate side by side.
Still mumbling incoherently, the traveller looked up to meet the guard's eye. Sláine read the unquenchable fire of madness blazed behind his dark eyes. The guard backed up a step under the sheer intensity of his stare. A
Similar Books
My Texas Sweetheart (book one)
Pauliena Acheson
Charmed by His Love
Janet Chapman
Cheri Red (sWet)
Charisma Knight
Through the Fire
Donna Hill
The Hen of the Baskervilles
Donna Andrews
Can't Shake You
Molly McLain
A Cast of Vultures
Judith Flanders
Wings of Lomay
Devri Walls
Five Parts Dead
Tim Pegler
Angel Stations
Gary Gibson