C.P. Bird - The Portaellen War Chronicles

‘Ouch!’ he screamed. The pained troll immediately regretted his impulsive response.

Shaking his throbbing hand vigorously, Normauss fell to the floor, and burst into tears. He was frustrated and angry.

Time was busy running out for him. The cold weather: primarily the frost, had slowed him down. He wished, he’d worn his boots, as he had on the previous journey. Now he cursed his own stupidity, before desperate thoughts engulfed him, once more.

‘Altoa! I am so sorry,’ he suddenly cried out, before collapsing, in a heap.

It did take him, a few moments to compose himself. When he was ready, Normauss started to walk quickly, that suddenly turned into a fast run.

The portal was several miles away and, his master waited.

‘Come on Normauss! You can do this,’ he called out. ‘I can do this!’ he told a curious fox, who watched him cautiously, as he ran past.

So, Normauss the troll, his feet now thawed out, made his way, towards the Ring of Stones. There, he would enter the portal, before exiting at Hells Point, in Wulfdaeden.

The troll wasn’t sure, how his master would use his intelligence once he had received it. It would be all part of the bigger plan.

A bigger plan, that would see the total annihilation of Fantaellen. Of this, Normauss was sure.

***

The dirty windows of Meadowlands Cottage were covered in a severe, white frost. The air was still and freezing. A silent, icy mist had descended upon the hard ground. Nothing stirred, as the weak, wintry sun began to rise, on a new dawn.

Through the threadbare curtains of the windows, the meagre rays of the sun steadily trickled through, to faintly illuminate, each and every dark corner, of the cottage.

The early light, of the new day, woke the large woman, from her sleep. Stretching and grunting, she cursed, the delicate light, as it gradually crossed the room.

Aunt Grimshaw was not happy. She never was. She hated the daylight. It repulsed her, so much.

Cursing the orange hue, on the rotten ceiling, above her head, she lay there staring. She did not want to get up. Her whole body ached.

From the side of her bed, she reached down and took hold of a broom, with an extremely long handle. Slowly, lifting it up, she shoved it, towards the ceiling. As it impacted, on to the rotting beams above, she was instantly covered in a light dusting of mould, decayed wood and spider webs.

‘Get up!’ she screamed, as the thud of the broom head, hitting the ceiling, echoed, throughout the room. She then threw the broom down hard, next to the side of her bed.

Grunting and groaning, Aunt Grimshaw, now struggled to lift her large frame, from her bed. She tried several times, before she succeeded, in finally heaving herself up.

She stood stretching, and as her body creaked and cracked, her mouth opened wide, with the first yawn, of the day. This was followed by several larger yawns, numerous groans, and countless curses.

Eventually, after deciding that she could not hear, any movement from upstairs, she lit a candle, and began to negotiate her way across, the mess on the floor, of her downstairs bedroom.

The moment, that the bedroom door creaked open, and Aunt Grimshaw appeared in the doorway, a black cat, instantly shot up into the air, as it growled and hissed at her, before it arched its back, and showed its teeth. With a look of pure terror, on its face, the cat was frozen to the spot. The feline could do no more, than quiver with fear, as he stared at the wart covered face, the colour of death.

‘It’s me, you stupid cat!’ she hissed. ‘Look!’

The cat did not know what to do. So, it chose flight. Off it ran, as fast, as its little legs, would carry it. Screaming at the top of its voice, as it shot past, the large woman, in the doorway, and up the stairs.

‘You’ll come back when you want feeding!’

***

Josh stirred from his sleep, as a result of the commotion and the raised voice, from downstairs. Half asleep, the young boy, looked around the room. He could see his breath, as he breathed. He shivered. It was so cold.

From the corner of his eye, he unexpectedly watched, as the bedroom door, creaked open slightly. He, then heard a scurrying, across the wooden floor.

As, he looked at the foot of his bed, Josh saw Samson, his aunt’s black cat, as it suddenly jumped up and landed in an undignified heap, onto his thin, threadbare duvet.

‘Ouch!’ cried Josh.

Samson had dug his claws, into the young boy’s, bony legs. The thin duvet offered very little protection, as the black cat, stared at him, with a startled expression, etched on its face.

‘Get down Samson. You’re hurting me.’

With the brush of his arm, Josh managed to persuade Samson, to leave his bed. The cat jumped and then fled, under a chest of drawers, in the corner.

Josh pulled back his duvet, shivered, and climbed out of his bed. As the pale, gaunt looking boy, shuffled towards a pile of clothes, on the floor, he coughed.

Quickly, so as not to feel the cold, he took off the rags, that his aunt called nightwear. His thin, bony body shivered, as he hurried to dress. He then washed his dirty face, with freezing water, from a bowl on the dresser, before running his wet fingers, through his unkept hair, to tame it.

With the first signs of a new day, coming through the ice-covered windows, Josh knew that his aunt, would be screaming out, his and his sister’s name, any moment now. She had obviously, startled Samson again. Just like she had done, for the countless mornings, ever since she had changed.

Josh needed to wake his sister.

‘Maddie. Wake up,’ he called softly.

‘I’m already awake,’ whispered a croaky voice.

‘Right, you two!’ Bellowed a voice from downstairs, ‘Time to get up! Did you not hear, your alarm call?’

A door suddenly slammed downstairs. Presently, there was a pounding on the floor, right below Josh’s feet. This was followed, with the abrupt opening of the same door downstairs.

‘That’s your alarm! Again! You have two minutes!’ The last three words were now screamed, before Josh and Maddie felt the door slam, once again, through their floorboards. ‘Now move it!’

Brother and sister quickly embraced. A small discreet tear ran down the little girl’s face. She tried to hide it, but her brother knew.

‘Don’t cry Maddie,’ he whispered softly.

‘I’m not,’ she cried out defiantly. ‘I’ve got something, in my eye.’

There was no holding back the tears, for the little girl. She felt so desperate, so lonely, despite her twin brother, being there. With the tears, streaming down her pale, dirty face, Maddie, tried desperately to compose herself. She hated to show weakness, even at her young age.

‘I miss father, so much,’ she suddenly said.

‘So, do I,’ replied Josh.

‘Especially today. It is our birthdays’ today? Right Josh?’

‘It is Maddie.’ Josh smiled at his sister, as he stroked her long, unkept, blonde hair. ‘Happy tenth birthday, Maddie.’

‘Happy tenth birthday, Josh.’

Josh knew that it was their birthdays’ today. Despite the removal of a calendar and clocks, from the cottage, he had put notches onto a piece of paper, as the sun had risen, and then gone down, on each and every day.

They had been only babies, when they had been put under the guardianship, of their aunt. Their father used to visit regularly. When he came, he had told them wonderous tales, of his adventures, and he always had a gift for them. He also told them, of their mother, when they asked. Neither child, had known their mother. She had died suddenly when they were born. Their father, always chose to change the subject, when asked when and how. Their father’s visits became less frequent, as time passed. Not since the day, after their ninth birthday, had he last visited them. And it wasn’t long after, that last visit, that their aunt changed.