David McCaffrey's Page

Green Ore

Chapter 7
Moul

Somewhere near the edge of the Irin Plain, Olwud and Judd left the woods to join the wagon-marked road leading towards the city of Cynri.
A long clover-covered mound stood by the road. It was an unusual feature and Olwud could tell it had been built by some unknown hands, many years ago, but couldn’t guess what purpose it served.
Feeling the warmth of the sun on his shoulders and taking in the smells of the change in plant life, he walked past the mound pondering what he could do about his flock. He didn’t want to risk taking them back to the city…
“Hey, boy!” called a man’s voice.
He looked around, but saw nobody.
“Up here.”
He honed in on the voice and not too far away, was a man sat in a tree.
“Where you going?” he asked.
“I, err…”
“What’s up? Lost your tongue?”
“No,” he said. “You just surprised me.”
The man laughed as he started climbing down.
“I have bit of a habit of doing that. Ha-ha! So where you going?”
“Cynri.”
He dropped from the lowest branch and Judd padded over to sniff him.
“Hello dog.” He gave the broadest of smiles. “Aren’t you beautiful!”
Olwud watched the man stroke Judd. The dog was cautious of most people but he seemed happy enough with the attentions of the stranger. He even wagged his tail.
“You seem to have a way with animals,” Olwud said.
“Oh, yes!”
The man came to the shepherd on the road. He was dressed in tatty green clothes, with bits of twig and leaf sticking out of his long grey hair and beard. He appeared to be old, but had a vitality about him.
“Don’t I know you?” asked Olwud.
“Me? Entirely possible. I’m very well travelled, you know. I’m Terrytop, and I’m very pleased to meet you.” The man smiled.
“Olwud.”
“I see you’re interested in my knoll,” he said, nodding towards the mound. “I saw you peeping…”
“Oh. Yes. Your knoll? What’s it for?”
The man smiled, tapped his nose and winked.
“All you need know for now is that it’s called Din Kerrig. I’ll tell you more about it some other time…”
Olwud frowned, a little disappointed.
“Your sheep?” Terrytop nodded at the flock on the road ahead.
“Yes.”
“Nice. So! Olwud, how can I be of service?”
“Service? I don’t know.”
He frowned and rubbed his bearded chin, imitating deep thought. Then looked at the flock again.
“Well, are your sheep going to Cynri with you?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“I can care for them if you like. For a fee of course.”
“…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know much, do you?”
“I don’t -” he stopped himself.
“Look, I have a talent for spotting people’s needs.” He flashed a smile, proud of the fact. “If you like, I can tend your flock while you go to Cynri. All I ask is that when you return, you do something for me. Deal?”
As Olwud pondered the proposal, Terrytop returbed to his deep thought mimicry. Olwud didn’t want to leave the flock, but knew the sheep had no place in a diseased city.
“It’ll be fine! I used to have a flock of my own, you know. I know what to do. This way girls, that way girls.” He imitated directing them with his arms.
“Perhaps,” Olwud began. “But, what do you want me to do?”
“Aha!” Terrytop held a finger in the air. “I will tell you that when you return. In the meantime, to show you that I am no vagabond trying to swindle you out of your flock, I’ll give you this.”
He handed Olwud a round pendant of polished green crystallite. It was attached to a leather string and it appeared to be formed of a substance not quite crystal and not quite metal, but somewhere between the two. Three lines were etched into it, radiating downwards, like rays from the sun. Olwud imagined it was worth a lot of iron bars.
“It’s more than enough to cover the cost of your flock, boy. Now, you look after that.”
Olwud was convinced of the man’s intentions. He felt much better about the proposal and more so because Terrytop had tended a flock of his own before. He decided this was his best, and only, option to keep the flock safe from the disease.
“Deal?” the man held out his hand.
“Yes,” he said taking the hand and looking the man in the eye. “Deal. But you take good care of my sheep.”
“Of course, of course.”
“You do know about predators?”
“Ha! Do I know about predators? I live in the woods!” He indicated his tatty clothes. “I am a kind of shepherd too, remember that. Now, go on. Be on your way.”
“Right then. I’ll be back in a few days.”
Olwud began walking down the road with Judd.
“Be careful with them,” he said.
“Get going, boy!” urged Terrytop. “You have work to do. I’ll see you when you return.”
“Strange man,” Olwud told Judd. “But it has been a strange few days...”

The shepherd and his dog walked west along the well-travelled road.
Even from this distance, he could see the tall wooden palisade of Cynri with its watchtowers jutting above, dotted all along its length.
All seemed to be as normal, until he noticed the black columns of smoke rising up into the sky. What are they burning? He furrowed his brow. There was no traffic moving in or out of the city gate. How odd.
“Come on, Judd,” he said to the dog, picking up the pace.

Olwud was now close enough to notice that the town gate was half closed – and closing? Pushing on until the city ramparts and palisade dominated his view, he approached the power centre of the Ordo tribe.
He caught a whiff of the black smoke as it carried in his direction upon the wind. The dreadful smell forced him to bend over as the spasms took hold of his stomach. He fought to keep control of himself.
With Judd in tow, Olwud approached the gate panting.
The Nettle Guard had been posted. They were the elite of Cynri’s defences, who appeared in dangerous times, such as the rare occasions of tribal warfare. They were a specialist unit who had been trained in the secret martial arts of the Druids and were renowned for their prowess in combat. Each of the five wore the legendary Druidic Armour, covered with stinging nettles.
The Nettle Guard were dispersing a group of disgruntled travellers, refusing their entry into the city. An unruly woman shouted insults at them, but they chose not to argue and formed themselves into a line across the road preventing the group, or the newcomer and his dog, from entering the settlement.
“Cynri is closed!” established one of the guards in a loud voice.
“But I have very important news for your Druid,” responded the shepherd.
“Really? You’ll be lucky, boy.” The guard shook his head. “She’s got more important things on her mind.” He poked a thumb toward the diminishing gap in closing gateway.
“And who do you think you are?” The disgruntled woman now directed her anger at the shepherd. “We were here first!”
Ignoring the woman and her companion’s comments, Olwud pressed forward to steal a look inside the city. Within the Druidic Priest was chanting amidst a vast multitude of people.
There were so many people before her. It was as though the entire population of the city now implored her for healing and he also noticed the piles of bodies burning in the streets nearby, giving off black smoke. Cynri was burning her dead and those who remained were dying, soon to join the heaps on the street. The situation here had become much worse in the short space of time since his last visit.

His observations were brought to a halt. With a deep clunk, the heavy gate closed, blocking any view into the city. Olwud was left to contest with five armed guards wearing armour covered with nettles.
“Back off,” ordered the guard pushing the shepherd backwards, delivering a sting from the nettles on his armour. Olwud yelped as the itching pain spread and Judd barked.
“Back, Judd,” conceded Olwud. He examined the pink swelling appearing on the forearm he tried to protect himself with.
“Be about your business, boy. And take that dog with you!”
He may only be a shepherd, but he wasn’t going to give up. He’d been given a sign. He knew he must help these people.
“No,” he said.
“No?”
With a nod from the head guard, the others lowered their spears and moved in to encircle the boy and his dog. Judd barked, defying them to come any closer.
“This doesn’t have to get nasty, boy. Just go away.”
“I said no!” shouted the shepherd.
Before the city guard could do anything, the boy with the wooden crook burst into life. He didn’t think, but simply acted, his heart racing in his chest. He lifted the crook high in the air and drove it down into the stony road with all his might. A thunderous crack halted the advancing guards in their tracks and even Judd cowered back.
The wooden crook, with its bottom end driven into the ground, stood quivering in the road.
All eyes focused on the trembling crook for a moment of utter silence, as though expecting something more.
And then it followed – a deep rumble coming up from the depths of the earth began to shake the ground all around them. As one, the Nettle Guard drew in a surprised breath.
All eyes remained on the crook.
It began growing!
And it grew at an alarming rate.
Very soon, the staff was transformed into a small sapling. It grew its own roots that burrowed down into the road and also began sprouting branches. The vivacious sapling then became a small tree and continued growing taller and taller. The ground tremors intensified underfoot and losing their courage, the Nettle Guard now backed off to what they thought might be a safe distance.
And still the tree grew and grew, ripping up the ground to make space for its roots, growing ever thicker and taller. It grew wider than a roundhouse and reached further into the sky than Olwud knew how to measure – until after what seemed like an instant, it slowed, settled, and then stopped growing all-together, leaving only its leaves to tremble as though celebrating new life.

The crook had transformed itself into a gigantic oak tree; of a size and majesty like nothing he’d ever seen. This was a tree for giants! It stood in the middle of the road, dwarfing even the ramparts and palisade of Cynri. It was like it had been there since the dawn of time.
The calm shepherd looked around as though what had just happened was an everyday occurrence. But inside he felt like an ancient hero who had tasted his secret destiny.
The duty-bound Nettle Guard stood dumbstruck, in awe of the magnificent tree. And the group of travellers had already made a hasty retreat down the road to the east, in fear for their lives.
“I am here to speak to your Druid!” Olwud shouted. “Open the gate!”
Nothing happened.
The Nettle Guard remained at a respectful distance and argued among themselves, not quite knowing what to do.
Olwud the shepherd came before Cynri’s main gate with a fire in his eyes, to stretch out his arms and demand entry into the city.
“I’m here to help your people!” he called. “Open the gate!”
There were some shouts from within and after a short time the heavy wooden gate slowly groaned open.
He half expected to see reinforcements rush out, but it was the small Druidic Priest who appeared. The very person he had come to see. She carried herself with inexplicable grace for one so young and brought an air of spring with her presence. She wore white robes, showing she was of the middle rank of Priest within the Druidic Order. Her messy red hair was tattered and unkempt. She admired the great tree from under her untidy fringe, and then turned to Olwud.
“What is this miracle you bring us?” she enquired.
“I’m here to offer healing to the people of Cynri.”
“My name is Moul, and I am of the Second Seat of the Druidic Order, yet even I cannot heal these people. The plague struck us without warning, first the animals, then the strongest of the men and before we knew what was happening, it had completely overrun Cynri. I’m afraid this city is doomed, young shepherd.”
“But I know of a pool that healed me of this same… plague,” he insisted.
The Druid looked up at the tree again. Then tilted her head, regarding the shepherd boy from a different angle. She smiled.
“Until your coming I thought this foul magic would bring down even our sacred Order.”
She took a step closer to the boy and his dog.
“Tell me your name, my child,” she said.
“I’m Olwud. And just a few days ago I had the same plague as the people in this city. But then I bathed in a sacred pool and now stand before you in full, good health.” He showed her his hands where the bruising had been. “I just ask for a chance to prove it to you. Let me show you the pool. That’s all.”
“Very well,” nodded the small Druid and she took hold of his hand to lead him towards the opened gate. “I’ve been waiting for you, Olwud of the Sacred Pool. I never knew what form of saviour the Goddess would send us, but I knew that you would come. Welcome to Cynri.”
Hand in hand, they entered the city during her darkest hour and the gate closed behind them with a deep resounding groan.