Stephen Lawhead - Taliesin

The bound man walked stiffly and was brought to stand before the stone, where the man with the horned cap waited with his twig brush. The captive stood passively while the horned man painted his chest with blue spirals and then was made to stand with his back to the stone. A rope of braided leather was passed between his wrists and then thrown over the top of the stone. One of the men pulled the rope, jerking the bound man’s arms over his head.

The horned one picked up his drum and began beating it with a striker of carven bone-slowly at first and rhythmically but with ever-increasing speed. He chanted in a wild voice and the captive man began to writhe. The drum beat faster, the chant grew wilder. The second shaman stood close by and suddenly, as if pricked into motion, whirled around once, twice, bringing the flint-tipped spear up over his head where it posed for an instant before plunging it into the side of the victim.

Blood spurted from the wound and the man jerked away from the spear point, only to have it thrust again, deeper and held while he twitched in agony. When he stopped moving, the rope was released; his arms fell slack. He sagged against the stone as his lifeblood gushed out upon the ground.

“No!” screamed Taliesin, horrified.

The dying man took a faltering step and then another. His legs buckled and he fell to his knees, doubled over his wound and toppled onto his side, where he thrashed feebly for a moment-all of this under the intense, rapturous gaze of the homed shaman.

The victim struggled to rise once more and then lay still, his blood already thickening as it oozed from the hideous gash in his side. No sooner was the man dead than the second horned figure leaped upon the body, tearing off the leather mask. With his bronze dagger he carved off the man’s head and placed it upon the standing stone where its wide, staring eyes gazed blankly skyward.

The two horned men conferred briefly while the others lifted the corpse and laid it lengthwise before the stone. When this was done, the first horned man gathered up his drum and pot and strode from the circle.

“Taliesin!” The boy heard someone call his name and felt his arm being shaken. “Taliesin!”

He turned and looked at his father. Elphin’s worried face came slowly into focus, and the strange men, their hapless victim, and lastly the wooden palisade faded, dissolving into the air.

“What is it, son? You have gone gray as death.” Elphin gripped the boy’s shoulders hard.

Taliesin raised a hand to his head. “Put it back,” he murmured and then started, staring at his father with wild-eyed fear. “Put it back! Put the stone back!”

“Very well,” said Elphin slowly. “We will put it back.” He straightened and gazed back at the yellow bones in the uncovered grave. “Not everything that is found should stay found; some things are better lost and forgotten.”

They worked at lowering the stone, which was only slightly less difficult than lifting it had been. All the while, Taliesin felt the oppressive atmosphere of the place as a stubborn force that resisted their efforts. But they wrestled and worked and the stone slowly gave way, sighing as it toppled back to its resting-place.

Only when the stone was once again put down did Taliesin breathe easier. “It was not the stone,” explained Taliesin. “The Horned One wanted me to renew the sacrifices to him.” He shuddered and glanced fearfully at his father. “That would be wrong.”

Elphin nodded and took a last look around. “This is an unhappy place. I feel it too and have had enough. Let us go from here.”

They returned through the woods the way they had come and eventually reached the stream. Their horses stood drowsing in the late afternoon light, and the dogs were curled at their feet, heads on paws. The hounds jumped up and began barking excitedly when they saw Elphin and Taliesin splashing across the stream.

“We must ride hard to reach the caer before dusk,” observed Elphin as he climbed into the saddle. “We were in that circle far longer than it seemed. Ready?”

“Ready,” answered Taliesin, resisting the powerful urge to take a last backward glance toward the forest. They snapped their reins and galloped away.

The first tremors struck kellios just before sunrise. Charis had awakened in the dead of night, feeling the sultry, stifling air thicken to a suifocating blanket. When she could no longer breathe, she rose and went to her balcony to stand before the softly shimmering city. Oceanus rolled restlessly in her bed; a smattering of stars shone red in the night-gray sky, and Charis knew that the end had come.

She accepted this with the icy calm of the bull pit and looked her last upon the sleeping city.

From out of the mountains far away she heard the deep, deep rumbling of summer thunder. So it begins, she thought. Dream on, Atlantis; the day of your death is upon you. Farewell.

She turned away as the rumble became a vibration, slight, insignificant. Dogs in the city began whining and howling. They knew. Soon everyone would know.

She dressed in the clothes she had chosen for this day-a simple, sturdy linen tunic with her wide leather Belt and sandals from the bullring. With practiced fingers she braided her hair and bound it in the white leather thong, put her favorite golden chain around her neck, and walked quickly from her room to sound the alarm-a Bell she had had installed in the center of the portico where it could be heard throughout the palace. With the last peals quivering on the air, Charis hurried on to Annubi’s chambers.

She pushed open the door without knocking arid stepped inside. Annubi was within, sitting at his small table, the Lia Fail before him in its gopherwood box, his eyes red-rimmed and tired. “It is begun,” Charis told him.

He nodded and closed his eyes “Yes,” he whispered.

“Then gather your things and come with me to the harbor. We will wait for Belyn there.”

“Belyn will not come,” said Annubi. “I will stay here.”

“No, I want you with me.” The authority in her voice could not be argued with. Annubi shrugged and rose to his feet, hauling up a cloth-wrapped bundle. He thrust the Lia Fail into the bundle, gazed around the room one last time, and stepped toward the door.

The vibration had ceased, but the air still hung heavy and was now tinged with a sharp, metallic smell. The wailing of the dogs echoed through the palace like eerie music.

In the main corridor they met Lile, shaken and nervous, cradling a drowsy Morgian in her arms and holding tight to her courage. She rushed to meet Charis and, taking her hand, asked, “Is it time?”

“Yes,” replied Charis. “Where is my father?”

“Why, asleep in his bed.”

“Wake him and get on with your duties.”

Lile hesitated. “Give roe the child,” Charis told her, lifting Morgian from her arms. “Go now. And hurry.”

Lile fled back through the corridor. “Take Morgian,” Charis told Annubi, handing him the little girl. The seer recoiled with distaste but accepted the child, who began crying after her mother. “Wait with the wagons,” Charis instructed. Annubi shambled out into the trembling night.

Charis saw to each of the arrangements she had made, moving from one task to the next with cold efficiency. The last weeks had been physically and emotionally exhausting- amassing a small mountain of supplies and tools and packing it all, sealing what she could against seawater; rehearsing the plans she and Lile had made for evacuation with scores of unwilling, often contemptuous, royal functionaries; selling off palace treasures for ready gold and silver; buying and outfitting a fleet of fishing boats to carry people and cargo to deeper waters should need arise; supervising the loading of wagon after wagon with the raw materials for survival-a monumental labor, a tapping of deep, unknown reserves of energy, tact, and will. Now that the final dread moment had come, she could be calm. The world might well crumble around her, but the end would not see her rushing around in undignified panic. She woke those of her overseers still asleep and set them about their prearranged tasks. “Do not stop to think,” she told the fearful. “Do exactly what we have planned and do it quickly.”