Stephen Lawhead - The Paradise War

Rest.. . rest and sleep…

No. There could be no rest, no sleep, until the work I had come to do was finished. One step at a time, and each step seemed to take a lifetime. Shivering with cold and exhaustion, I placed my foot on the next step and heaved myself up. Oh, but I was tired. So tired…

I glanced towards the rampart and saw the warriors still frozen in attitudes of amazement. Why did they not help me? Why did they stand looking on like that? Would no one lift a hand to help me?

Black mist gathered before my eyes, stealing the faces from me. I closed my eyes and raised my foot to the next step and missed the edge. I toppled forward and struck the step with my knee. The bundle on my back slipped sideways, almost pulling my arm from its socket. Every nerve and sinew screamed for me to release the knot I gripped so tightly, to let it go, let it fall. It was not worth my life, after all. My stiff hands would not obey, however; dead cold, they held numbly on.

The pain brought tears, which the wind froze, stinging my cheeks where they dried.

And, although my knees throbbed, at least the pain drove away the black mist clouding my senses. I could see clearly again. Lifting my bundle of stones onto my back once more, I raised myself up and took the next step, and the next.

And then I was standing on the rampart, standing clutching my precious bundle, surrounded by astonished warriors-astonished by my monumental idiocy, apparently-swaying as the wicked wind raked my ragged clothes, slicing at my flesh.

I lurched to the breast of the wall and lowered my burden. Tegid stumbled to a place beside me and we looked out over the wall to the swarming mass of Coranyid below. They were more vile and heinous than I remembered: great hulking toad-bodied red monstrosities dwarfing smaller spindle-shanked skeletal sub-creatures, whole ranks of scaly reptilian fiends and hosts of naked, squatting half-human imps with exaggerated genitals and shrunken heads, and more.

I saw the squirming, bloated, misshapen, mangled bodies and mocking, leering faces and I burned with anger at their profane glee. I fell upon the bundle at my feet and began tearing at the knot, suddenly afraid that I had come too late, that no power on earth could halt the advance of evil that had been unleashed against us.

My hands clawed at the knot. It was twisted tight and frozen with the sweat from my hands and would not give. I whirled in desperation and snatched the spear from the hands of the nearest dumbstruck warrior. I slashed at the cloak with the spear, tearing at the cloth. The rocks spilled out onto the snow, dull and colorless in the foul light. Their drab appearance mocked me. Surely, I was mistaken. Suddenly, my plan seemed absurd and pathetic. It could not but fail.

I raised my eyes and found Tegid watching me. He mistook my hesitation for deliberation and said, «Here, brother, allow me.» He reached out and selected one of the larger chunks of rock from the pile. «Begin with this one.» His confidence was not abated by the ordeal we had endured. If anything, his trust was the greater.

I took the stone between his hands, straightened, and turned to the breastwork of the wall. The wind gusted sharp, as if to tear the stone from my hands. The Coranyid surged like a wind-lashed sea around the base of the fortress, screaming, wailing, grasping with their awful hands. Revulsion and disgust swept through me. In one swift motion I raised the stone and sent it tumbling from the wailtop onto the hateful heads of the Demon Host below.

I saw it spin as it fell. The demons scattered and the stone struck the rocky escarpment below, shattering on impact.

Instantly, the air swelled with the sound-that incomparable sound of the hand-struck harp, that sustaining chord I had heard in the Phantarch's chamber. The extraordinary sound burst from the stone which had contained it, shattering the air with an explosion of vibrant music.

The demon Coranyid scattered. Before they could regroup themselves, Tegid handed me another stone and I sent that one sailing down after the first. The second stone struck the rocks below and gave forth a ringing, jubilant sound which rose up in shimmering waves, spreading from the point of impact as if to engulf the world.

Tegid had a third stone ready, while the air still reverberated with the strains. I heaved it over the wailtop and it struck the ground, splitting into fragments. Each fragment gave forth a shimmering, silvery note of astounding beauty that echoed in the mountain peaks round about.

Those standing with us on the wall heard the sound and were transfixed. From out of the king's hail, kinsmen poured into the yard. They stood in the snow, gazing up at the mountains now reverberating with strange and exquisite music.

I bent down, gathered an armful of stones and pressed these into the hands of the nearest stupefied warriors. Tegid did the same, and, at my signal, we all threw our enchanted stones down upon the Coranyid. The unleashed sound burst forth in a thunderous peal of chorused exultation.

The demons shrank from the sound, withering before it like flesh before red-hot iron. They squirmed and writhed, howling, shrieking, dancing in their torment, falling over one another in their haste to escape the assault of the singing stones.

The people in the yard heard the marvelous sound, and rushed to the wall and climbed to the rampart to see the terrible Coranyid retreating, shrinking away in agony, their hateful presence dissolving like a filthy stain before the cleansing water.

Just as the demon throng seemed on the point of fuil retreat, a tumult arose among them, and from out of their teeming midst appeared an enormous dark-garbed figure, astride a huge aurochs black as a raven's wing. This chieftain wore a black cloak and carried a black shield; in his right hand he carried a long, curved tusk-like sword black as polished jet-the Wyrm's fang. At his throat he wore a coiled serpent, a living torc with a shiny black skin and yellow eyes burning like live coals. I could not see his face, hidden as it was beneath a war helm of black. But I did not need to see his face to know that this was Nudd, Prince of Uffern and Annwn, dread lord of the Nether Realms, who rode on his strange beast to join battle with us. He had come to stem the rout of his demon war host.

The swan figure of Nudd advanced slowly towards the wall. The Coranyid, halted by the sudden appearance of their lord, scuttled after him, their wails of agony turned to ghastly peals of demented delight. They drew closer in a repulsive, gyrating mass.

Quickly, Tegid and I passed Song-laden stones along the wailtop hand to hand-men, women, and even the children– until all who had joined us on the wall possessed a stone.

Nudd raised the Wynn's fang. The black blade circled in the air. At his command, storm clouds gathered. The wind

shrieked to gale force, ripping at the stones in our hands, blasting and buffeting all who stood on the wall. The wind howl drowned out everything else. Snow and ice stung our eyes. Some collapsed under the frigid assault of ice and wind; their places were taken by others. The line remained unbroken.

Nudd advanced. The dread form loomed larger with every step, growing as he neared. I could not see the face hidden beneath the helm, but the dark lord's malice stung me like the prick of a knife. My heart thumped savagely against my ribs.

The enemy was formidable beyond reckoning, powerful beyond imagining. We could not escape his wrath. He would crush us to dust beneath his feet. Already, he was drawing the life from our hands. My fingers were going numb and slack. I could no longer feel the stone in my hands.

Lord Nudd leveled the black blade, and his eager minions leapt to the attack, tearing at the wall, scaling the vertical heights of the stronghold. I knew that my kinsmen were waiting for me to give the command to throw the stones. They were watching me, waiting for me to lead them. But I could not. Who was I to think I could outwit such a powerful enemy?