Date: Thu, 29 Jul 2010 17:13:46 EDT
From: BertMcK@aol.com
Subject: Crystal Throne/Riders of Tuatha 10

RIDERS OF TUATHA
by Bert McKenzie
Copyright 2010

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any real
person alive or dead is coincidental and unintentional.

CHAPTER X

     Rowana was furious.  She and Ellenia stood on the battlements
overlooking the drawbridge.  Below the king's guard rode out of the castle,
all armed and dressed in brilliant colors and prepared for battle.  Clive
and Elnar rode with them, Clive dressed as one of the guards, his armor
fitting loosely being made for a man of much greater stature, and Elnar
coming along to perform the necessary magic.  Rowana had wanted to join
them on their quest, but Melcot and Rood both vetoed that idea.  Ellenia
agreed to stay behind, fearing that she would be in the way, more than she
could help, and Clive was finally able to persuade Rowana to keep her
company.

     "They think a female cannot perform as well as a male in battle,"
Rowana said sullenly as she watched the gaily colored contingent disappear
down the canyon past the drawbridge.

     "They are correct," Ellenia told her, putting her arms around her
friend and giving her a comforting hug.  "The males are generally much
stronger.  This makes them better suited to such a task."

     "Strength is not always a telling factor," Rowana protested.  "It is
only a matter of muscle structure and training.  I am as strong as several
of the guards, maybe more so than some.  As the daughter of a merchant I am
used to lifting heavy loads and working with my muscles."

     "Some tasks are just traditional to the males," Ellenia tried.  "They
are the warriors and we are the hearth tenders."

     "That is tradition," Rowana said.

     "Yes, it is tradition," Ellenia agreed.

     "And recall you what Robin has said of tradition?" Rowana asked,
turning to her friend.

     Ellenia smiled and looked down.  She had walked right into Rowana's
logical trap.  "He said that tradition is useful only as a guideline but
not as a law.  We must follow our hearts, and if it is cross purposed to
tradition, then the tradition must be broken."

     "My heart tells me I should go with them," Rowana said.

     "I know," Ellenia replied, looking deeply into the soft brown eyes of
her friend.  "But the heart of your mate would bid you stay.  To which must
you listen?"  Rowana turned back to look out in the direction the guards
had taken.

                               * * *

     As soon as the armed party emerged from the maze-like canyon leading
from the castle, they turned to the west and rode further into the
foothills.  Finally arriving at the spot indicated on the map, Rood led his
company between two natural pillars of rock, and into a narrow ravine.  The
ground slopped downward and followed a sinuous course winding between two
high cliffs of stone.  The men rode on in silence, taking their time to
carefully pick their way down the incline.  The map showed that the course
eventually turned back on itself and ended in the bottom of the deep gorge
below the castle drawbridge.

     Rood suddenly raised his hand and brought the company to a halt.  He
dismounted and walked forward a few paces.  A deep cleft cut across the
inclined trail with a sheer drop of eighty feet.  A few old pillars of
stone rose up on each side to indicate that at one time a bridge of some
sort had spanned the gap.  But it had long since fallen into the chasm.
Akuta dismounted and joined his captain.  They surveyed the scene in
dismay.  The distance from one side to the other was at least thirty feet.
They could see no practical way to cross it.  The two climbed back up the
trail to converse with the others.

     "Could we rebuild the bridge?" Faylar asked.

     "That would take time, something we have not," Rood answered.

     "Let me view the map," Clive suggested, and took the colorful chart.
"Here," he said, pointing to the markings.  "We need not cross the gap.  We
need only to descend to the bottom of this cleft in the rock.  It should
take us directly to the marked border by following the canyon floor."

     "But we must cross to get to the bottom," Melcot said, correcting him.
"The only trail leading down this gorge is the one that continues from over
there."  He pointed across the gap where the missing bridge had been.

     "If we follow not the trail, but descend to the bottom from here,"
Clive continued, "we need not cross."

     "How can we descend?" Melcot asked.  "We cannot ride this vertical
drop on horseback."

     "Have you no ropes?" Clive asked.  "We can climb down."  The others
seemed very nervous about the prospect of climbing down a rope for an
eighty foot drop.  "My people have done such things for years using the
vines on the great forest trees," Clive said encouragingly.

     "What other choice have we?" Rood asked his company.

     "But what of the horses?" Akuta asked.

     "We can take everything we need but the horses," Rood answered.  "We
shall travel on foot."  He gave several quick orders and many of his guards
began tying lengths of rope together.  They then knotted these around the
vestiges of the old bridge.  Several others began gathering the weapons and
other provisions together and tying them into bundles.

     "Wait a moment!" came an anxious cry.  "I am the one who has the magic
necessary to reopen the border," Elnar called.

     "Yes, we know," Rood said, not comprehending his point.

     "I have to be there to work the magic," the old man explained.  Rood
looked at him blankly.  "How am I to get there if you climb down these
ropes?"

     "You shall come with us," Rood answered.

     "I shall not!" the old man exclaimed.  "I am not about to fall to my
doom!"

     By this time all was in readiness for the descent.  "Very well, old
father," Rood acquiesced.  "I have an alternative method.  You shall not
have to climb."  Without warning he grabbed the old wizard and lightly
swung him onto his back.  Before the old man could protest, Rood said "Hold
on tight," and grabbing a rope, dropped over the precipice carrying the old
man in piggy back fashion.  Seeing Clive and Rood so easily descend, the
others began to follow.  Two of the company were left behind to lower the
bundles of arms and provisions, and to stay with the horses.

     The group reached the bottom safely with only one minor mishap.  One
of the men lost his grip and fell, but he was only about ten feet up at the
time and landed on several of his companions waiting below.  His pride was
the only thing seriously hurt.  Once their comrades from up above lowered
the bundles to them, the company moved quickly off in the direction shown
on the map.

     The floor of the chasm wound back and forth between the immensely high
cliff walls.  The men knew that somewhere, far above them, the castle stood
firmly against the side of the Crystal Mountains, the sunlight playing on
its walls before dropping down below the horizon.  But in the bottom
recesses of their rock enclosed world, it had been twilight for a long
time.

     The winding floor passed a trail that slanted up, leading back to the
missing bridge.  They continued on and in a moment came to a large, yawning
gap in the side of the cliff.  A huge black cave opened before them.  "This
is the indicated spot," Rood said as they all stopped before the inky
darkness of the cavern.  "What now, magician?"

     Elnar came limping up to investigate.  He was evidently not prepared
for the hiking they had just done.  "Now we see how far this goes."  He
stepped into the darkness and disappeared from view.  Rood attempted to
follow him, but once in the cave, the gloom took on an almost magical
intensity.  Even his sensitive elfin eyes were not able to discern anything
in the darkness.  He stumbled forward and ran into the back of the
magician.  "Be careful," the old man chastised.  They proceeded on together
for a short distance.  "Can you feel it?" Elnar's voice echoed hollowly.

     "Feel what?" Rood asked.

     "The old magic, of course," the magician replied.  "Here, feel."  He
grasped Rood's outstretched hand and pulled it forward.  The guard felt a
very odd sensation indeed.  It was like pushing his hand into a bowl of
thick syrup.  It had the same viscous quality.  However, there was also a
chilling tingle, as if we had touched the heatless vacuum of space.  He
quickly pulled back.  "It is the gleekah," Elnar whispered reverently.

     "What of this bridging spell?" Rood asked.

     "Yes, let us return and begin it."  The two of them retraced their
steps.  There was obviously a powerful magic at work, because they were
unable to see the entrance to the cave until they had stepped through the
opening and rejoined their companions.

     "Now," Elnar said as he opened the bundle he had prepared.  "Who will
be the anchor?"

     "What mean you?" Melcot asked.

     "Someone must traverse the barrier to anchor the other side of the
bridge."

     "As leader of this party, it must be my task," Rood said, coming
forward.

     "Very well," Elnar agreed.  He took a rope from the bag before him.
It looked like any ordinary braided hemp rope.  He tied one end firmly
around Rood's waist.  "When you reach the other side," he instructed,
"remove this and tie it on to an immovable structure."  Elnar next took out
a small vial.  "When I sprinkle you with this elixir, the spell shall
begin.  You must then enter the cave and walk straight ahead.  You shall
traverse the gleekah and enter the world of humanity.  Fasten the rope and
then follow it back to us.  Once you have secured it in the other world,
the rope then creates the bridge that joins the two borders."

     "Where in the other world shall I emerge?" Rood asked.

     "I have taken care of that," the old man answered.  "The elixir is
designed to focus on the king.  The magic should transport you to his point
of entry, or there abouts."

     "And if he is no longer there?" Rood questioned.

     "We have to start somewhere," Elnar said and uncorked the vial.  He
splashed the oily contents on the tall guard.  "Now go quickly while the
elixir is still fresh." Rood stepped back into the blackness of the cave.
"You," the wizard said, pointing at Melcot.  "Pick up that rope and hold on
tightly to the end.  The eddies and currents between the two worlds may try
to pull it into the void.  It must be firmly anchored at both ends.

                               * * *

     Jennifer regained consciousness and realized her predicament.  She was
bound and gagged, totally immobilized on the small bed.  She pulled against
her bonds, but they were very securely tied.  There was not much chance she
would be able to escape now.  She could feel the soreness on the left side
of her face where the man had struck her.  She was certain to have a black
eye at the very least.

     She played out the scene again and again in her mind, realizing her
mistake.  The man had entered the room and had not seen her.  She was
hidden behind the open door.  The first thing he did was cross to examine
the broken window, exposing his back to her.  All she needed to do was slip
around the door, pull it shut and slam the lock in place.  He would now be
the prisoner, trapped in the dirty basement room and she would be free.
Why had she tried to attack him with such a poor excuse for a weapon?  Why
hadn't she seized the opportunity for escape?  If only she could do it all
over again.

     It was no use thinking about such things.  Here she was and here she
would stay until someone released her . . . or killed her.  That was a
frightening thought!  This caused her to think again about Troy.  Where was
he?  Was he alive or dead?  She kept seeing that woman pointing the gun at
him.  She tried to think of something else to change the focus of her
mental picture.  Thinking about Troy reminded her of Rosebud.  She thought
about the beautiful Siamese and wondered how he was.  It must be over
twenty-four hours at least since he was last fed.  She felt guilty for not
thinking of the poor animal sooner.  The irony of the situation hit her
hard.  Troy might be dead, and she was certainly in mortal peril, and she
was feeling sorry for a hungry cat.  She wondered if anyone was feeling
sorry for her.  The tears began to roll down the sides of her face and into
her ears.

     Heavy footsteps of someone descending the stairs interrupted her train
of thought.  She turned her face toward the metal door.  The bolt clanked
and the man whom she had attacked earlier entered the room.  He smiled at
her.  "You stupid bitch," he said.  "I called Tony and now he's sending
Clarissa out to pick you up.  When she's through with you, you'll wish you
hadn't tried that little stunt."  He walked over to the side of the cot and
looked down at her.  "Too bad, though.  You're really a pretty little
thing."  He reached out and tried to stroke her face.  Jennifer twisted her
head, trying to avoid his hand.

     The man grabbed her by the jaw, causing her to wince in pain from the
pressure on the bruise developing on the left side of her face.  "What's
the matter, baby?" he taunted.  "You don't want me to touch you?"  The man
laughed harshly at her.  "You're in no position to refuse."  He reached
down and gripped her blouse, pulling violently and ripping the buttons and
material.  "You see, I can do whatever I want and you don't have anything
to say about it."  He then reached in his pocket and pulled out an evil
looking switch blade.  Jennifer trembled in fear, but tried to keep from
flinching as he gently stroked her cheek with the flat side of the knife
blade.  "That's better," he said softly and then reached down with it and
sliced through the material holding her bra together.

     Jennifer laid perfectly still, trying not to breathe, trying to
imagine that she was anyplace but in this room.  She tried not to think
about what was happening while the big man fondled her firm breasts and
chuckled to himself.  She hoped in vain that he would stop and leave her to
her misery, or even that Clarissa would walk in on them.  She felt his hot
breath on her neck as he nuzzled her.  "Please," she screamed in her mind.
"Make him stop."  But he didn't.  The man reached down and unfastened her
jeans, pulling them down as far as the material would allow with her legs
stretched out to the bed corners.  She tried to break free, bucking and
pulling on the bonds while he slipped the knife under the waistband of her
underwear and began cutting through the thin material.

     "That's right, girl," he said with a gleeful hoot.  "Work that ass!
Woohwee, you've got spirit."  She opened her eyes and looked up at him,
hoping she could plead with him, but the gag muffled anything she might
say.  She saw him unzip his fly and pull his pants and undershorts off in
one move.  "No, please!" she screamed again in her mind as she saw his
erect phallus.

     The man climbed onto the squeaky cot and stretched out over her.  She
could smell the beer on his breath as he leaned down.  "Okay, baby," he
whispered.  "Give me a ride like I won't forget!"  She screamed into the
gag as she felt him force himself into her.  "Yeah, baby!" he said and
thrust forward.

     All of the sudden he jerked above her and then collapsed down heavily,
crushing the air from her lungs.  He rolled sideways, pulling out of her
and falling off of the bed.  Jennifer couldn't believe it was over so
quickly.  She whispered a mental prayer and closed her eyes.  She felt firm
hands gripping her wrists and cutting the bonds.  In fear she looked again
to see what new torture she was about to undergo.

     A concerned face looked back at her.  It was familiar.  Jennifer tried
to focus her mind.  It was the girl who had accompanied Scott.  Caseldra
sliced the twine with a sharp knife, and helped her to sit up, pulling the
gag from her mouth.  Looking down, she saw the man who had just raped her,
lying on his face on the floor, a widening stain of blood discoloring the
back of his shirt.  Jennifer closed her eyes and began to shake, huge sobs
wracking her body.  Caseldra sat beside her and held her tightly, murmuring
over and over a Tuathan phrase of comfort.