Stephen Lawhead - The Realms Thereunder

“Be careful, ??elingas,” Swi?gar said in a low voice. “It is dangerous to deal with one of the cursed races. He is one of the Tuath De Dannan- the People of Danu-who are especially treacherous. They are descended of the same race as that of the F?r Folk, but with long life comes madness; their minds are not as they should be-cold and hard, where no light shines.”

If Nemain even heard Swi?gar’s barbed comments, he did not show it. He merely preened himself further, affecting an indifferent posture.

“They live so much longer than we,” Ecgbryt continued, “that our lives seem as the span of a hawk’s or other house-pet, and the best of them think little more of us than that.”

Nemain yawned and threw a casual look around the walls where the strange people were standing in their dark, tattered clothes.

“Their minds are cold and hard places, like rooms of steel,” said Ecgbryt, louder, directing his voice at the Tuath De. “Their passions are perverted, and they do not love what is good, only what is new, strange, and twisted. Some have said that they descended from the angels that were shut out of heaven when God first closed the gates. They live on the earth but a short walk from hell, with no knowledge of their homeland, and it has driven them mad.” Ecgbryt spat.

“Quite,” said Nemain, flipping his gaze up at them. Nemain grinned at him wryly, with something approaching genuine humour. “But enough about me ,” said the creature, flowing into a crouching position so quickly that Daniel completely missed the transition. “You say you are from England and your minders are from . . . Ni?ergeard? And whither go you all?”

“We told you . . . That is our own concern.”

“So is it? Then why bother me and waste precious reading time?” Pouting, he casually pulled open the book’s cover and idly started flicking through the pages. “I was in the middle of a thought that I had been thinking for thirty-two years-and to suffer such needless, pointless disruption-why it makes one’s guts writhe.”

“We’ve disturbed you,” Freya continued deliberately, “because you are in our way. There is only one path downwards and it’s led us here, to you.”

She let the words hang in the air. Nemain made no movement or reply.

“Who are those people?” Daniel asked, pointing to the nearest wall.

“Do you know,” Nemain replied airily, “I honestly have trouble remembering. I know that almost all of them were important to me at one time or another. Still, they have started to clutter up the place, but you know how one hates to throw anything out.

You know that as soon as you do, you’ll find yourself needing it.

You think that you wouldn’t possibly need a duchess, with several princesses at hand, so you dispatch her only to find within a week that the eyes of anything other than a duchess simply aren’t penetrating enough for the purpose you need them.”

Swi?gar leant down and said in a low voice, “These are the Faerie’s prisoners-women he has tricked into lusting after him.

Caught by his charms, they follow him willingly to the end of the earth and then pine away when he removes his indifferent affections from them.”

“That’s terrible,” breathed Freya.

“What about this door?” Daniel asked, taking a step towards it.

“Don’t touch the door!” Nemain yelled suddenly, crouching as if to spring.

Swi?gar’s and Ecgbryt’s hands went to their weapons, lifting them forward slightly. For a long moment, they were all frozen, on edge.

Ecgbryt was the first to move-at one moment he was still, and then he was suddenly in motion as he dashed towards the Faerie. But as he reached out to grab him, Nemain pushed himself upwards, springing over the knight.

Nemain’s feet found Ecgbryt’s shoulders and he perched there, hunching just above his helmet. The knight cried once in surprise at the thing’s speed, and once again in pain as the razorlike fingernails dug into his upper arm, through the gaps in his chain-link armour. His axe clattered to the floor before he even realised that he had let go of it. Ecgbryt swung his shield arm in an upward arc to knock the Faerie off his shoulders, but the move was anticipated and he swung at empty air as Nemain slid down his back, its hands looping in the large leather belt and its feet gripping the sides of the knight’s helmet. As he tumbled downwards, his feet lifted Ecgbryt’s helmet off his head and flung it at the far wall where it smacked into the stone wall like a bullet. Two robed figures lurched out of its way as it fell to the ground.

Nemain now had two feet on the ground and two hands still in the large leather belt; he pulled at it with a mighty tug backwards, but Ecgbryt was too large and sure on his feet to fall at that, so he remained standing. A massive hand was now reaching around to grab at the Faerie, but the knight had to shift his weight to turn and Nemain took the opportunity to kick one of his legs from under him. Ecgbryt listed on his one leg, then fell slowly, like a tree toppling. He landed on his back, arms splayed outwards, and found Nemain standing on top of him, his feet pushing down just above the biceps with a calmly amused look on his face.

His shield still on his arm, Ecgbryt found movement nearly impossible, but his right arm was free and his natural strength served him well. He launched his arm forward in a swipe. Nemain lifted his left leg, but Ecgbryt was going for the right and he at last managed to lay a hand on his foe; his hand circled around the Faerie’s ankle and he jerked the leg away, pulling Nemain to the ground like a rag doll. The fall stunned the Faerie and gave Ecgbryt enough time to pull himself up onto his knees. Crouching, he jerked the slight figure up in an arc and actually swung him once around his head and flung him brutally across the room.

Nemain flew half a dozen feet, twisting in the air so that his shoulders took the blow and not his head as he pounded into the hard stone wall. The Faerie collapsed in a heap at the feet of a catatonic grey lady and gathered his breath a while, spitting out some blood that had gathered in his mouth. When he had come to his senses and raised his head, he found himself looking at the metallic head of Swi?gar’s spear. Smiling slyly, he flipped himself over gingerly and sat with his back against the wall.

“Well,” the half-Faerie said as he dabbed at his bloody lip with the back of his hand, “that was fun.”

“Stay, creature,” Swi?gar growled. “One twitch and I shall ease the world of your burden upon it.”

Nemain slumped to the ground. Freya saw that his chest was moving quickly, despite his calm manner. The awkward way he was sitting favored the left side of his body-he was probably in far more pain than he let on, and she felt strangely sorry for him even though Ecgbryt’s blood still dripped from his fingers.

Ecgbryt had not come off much better. He stood with some difficulty and retrieved his helmet from the other side of the vault.

Daniel, seeing that Nemain was not in much of a position to move-but keeping an eye on him anyway-walked slowly over to the large iron door that was covered in gears and wheels of different sizes. Although it looked rusty from a distance, up close he could see the glimmer of grease and oil wherever two bits of metal touched. He gave the largest wheel in front of him a turn; although it was heavy, it moved easily. It was attached to a gear that moved with it and turned three other gears that turned another wheel, which rotated a quarter turn and then stopped. A small steel bolt shifted, locking this wheel into place, making it immobile. Daniel found that the bolt had fallen from another wheel, which was now able to move. He gave this wheel a turn, but nothing happened.