SHORT STORIES

I’ve been working on some short stories lately that take place in the For Those Who Do Not Die world. As the world grows, I’m hoping to introduce new places along with their inhabitants and the adventures they undertake. I’m going to share these short stories here as time goes on and hopefully some creature artwork to go with them.

BC

The Village and the Marsh

Arn stood on the little wooden walkway overlooking the marsh. The water level was rising no doubt. But he wasn’t worried about the encroaching waters, he feared what might lurk within. The old tales of the cursed marsh was never something he took too seriously, and how could he, he fished them every day; but something was off, and the sighting of a giant snake had him on edge.

To his left, and north, ran the Arbis River, the source of their marsh. Across the marsh, not too far, to the east and south, ran the tree line to where the marsh met the swamp. In the far distance he could see the ruined hill, as it was called. A large mound sitting in the middle of the swamp with an abandoned temple standing atop. Most days it was hidden by mist, but today it was clear, and somehow different, more visible.

He made his way back along the walkway, down the steps of the palisade wall and headed towards the village square. There was an atmosphere about the village today, a mix of uncertainty and fear, and the children were kept from their classes, oblivious to the grown-ups concerns, happy to be running about and playing games. But the townsfolk spoke in whispers, many throwing Arn a fearful glance as he passed.

Moments later he was in his shed. Rummaging through old gear that hadn’t been used in a while; and hoped it wouldn’t be used again. He picked up the pieces of a broken harpoon. Then looked at the wall behind where his prize harpoon hung, just beneath the skull of a large alligator.

The sound of an approaching wagon brought him back to the issue at hand, supplies. He made his way to the centre of the village where the wagon had stopped. A burly man sat in the driving seat wearing a tired expression.

‘I must be getting old,’ he said. ‘The journey feels longer every time.’

‘Good to see you’re safe Billy,’ said Arn. ‘Did you bring much?’

‘What I could. But I think I could have bargained more if you hadn’t of insulted the mayor of Black Path.’

‘He’ll get over it,’ said Arn as he began to unload sacks of grain and tools. More people came to help unload.

‘I was expecting more this month,’ said a tall man in light armour, one of the village’s security members. ‘Maybe we should send less water, rice and cider next time.’

‘No. It’s my fault Villus,’ said Arn. ‘Things will be back to normal for the next trade.’ There was a shout in the distance, then more commotion to the northern end of the village. Arn dropped what he was doing; he and Villus quickly made towards the noise. As they did, a group of excited children followed by some anxious looking parents met them halfway.

‘I spotted one,’ shouted a young boy of around eight, ‘They’re here.’ Arn looked at the three adults, each in turn for a second opinion. They all shook their head.

‘Sorry Arn,’ said one of the mothers, ‘But only Charlie glimpsed it . . . or so he says.’ She turned her head, looking back towards the pier, the way they had come from.

Arn knelt down to face the boy. ‘I believe you Charlie, but you have to tell me how far from the fence. He pointed back towards the village square, ‘Between here and the wagon . . . how far would you guess it was?’

Charlie thought for a moment, then began running. He stopped about twenty yards from Arn and turned with a big smile on his face. ‘I think it was about this close, like you are from me.’ Arn’s expression was opposite that of a smile. He stood and made his way to the small wooden palisade running along the north border. He looked across the pier, then among the shallow pools and reeds for signs of movement, but saw nothing. The water level marker caught his attention. A white painted pole that stood twenty yards from the perimeter, decorated with several marks indicating the waters depth. But they had no use for markers, not when the water was at the fence; what they needed was more sandbags and earth.

Villus joined Arn again. ‘Many of the villagers are preparing to leave,’ he said. ‘They say the rising water is an omen.’

‘It’s just water Villus,’ said Arn. ‘They’re being ridiculous. It won’t come any closer, and if it does, what of it.’

‘Everyone still talks of one hundred years ago. When the waters came this close, the village had to be rebuilt.’

‘Not this time,’ said Arn, looking at the fading light as he turned to leave. ‘Not this time.’

It was late evening, and the village hall was crowded. Everyone had come to say farewell to one of the village elders who had passed away two nights ago. Many suggested her death was connected to the rising waters. Her eldest son had asked everyone to remain in the hall after they had paid their respects. He now stood at the top of the hall and gathered everyone’s attention.

‘I’m aware that there is concern over what some call the curse of the marsh. And that many of you have been asking whether my mother had any final visions before she left us. Unfortunately, concerning the marsh, she did not. But I can tell you all this. The rising waters took this Village once before; and as the Elders have dreamt, it will happen again. Tonight, myself and my family will be leaving for Black Path.’ There was a violent murmur among the gathering. ‘I urge each and every one of you to consider leaving.’ Again, more noise and random questions, but the Elder’s son answered nothing. Along with his brothers and sisters they carried their mother in her reed basket from the hall.

Arn watched on in anger as a sense of panic ran through the hall. He made for the exit, but a hand grabbed his wrist. He turned to see one of his neighbours looking very confused. ‘Is it true that there’s a beast in the marshes?’

‘Anything that’s in the marshes Joe, will stay in the marshes. The village is perfectly safe.’ He took his wrist back and left.

***

Arn didn’t sleep well. He was still curious about the water level. As soon as the sun broke, he got himself dressed and made for the eastern perimeter of the village, but he wasn’t the only one. A small group had gathered along the walkway, and the atmosphere seemed jovial. Arn stepped up onto the walkway and joined them. ‘You see,’ said one of the men. ‘Nothing to worry over.’ Sure enough, the water level had dropped. ‘I told them it would never rise pass the perimeter wall,’ continued the man, to no one in particular.

‘And even if it did,’ said another of Arn’s neighbours. ‘What’s the fear of a bit of water; no worse than a heavy rain.’ Just then Arn noticed something move in the reeds; something very long judging by the trail of reeds all swaying at once. He followed the movement until the thing reached a deeper body of water and all was still once more. His focus remained fixed on where the last blades of grass had moved. He had heard many times about the demons in the marsh, but never did he fully believe. He began to scan the surrounding area, searching for more movement. The silence became intense until a hand landed on his shoulder, giving him a fright.

‘I say we kill it.’ It was one of the village hunters, an old fella by the name of John Brandy.

‘Do you know what it is?’ asked Arn.

‘Some sort of large snake I imagine,’ replied Brandy. ‘We simply lure it with bait and trap it.’

‘Then kill the bastard thing,’ said another villager. They were all listening to the conversation, while searching the marsh for movement.

‘Who’s seen it?’ asked Arn. No one answered.

‘A few of the children saw something,’ said Brandy. ‘And I believe them. They’ve no reason to lie. Whatever the case, we need to be allowed move through the marshes as we please; we can’t live side by side with something so dangerous, it has to die.’

‘Don’t be so quick to challenge it,’ came a voice behind them. It was one of the Elders.

‘And what would you suggest?’ asked Brandy.

‘It might be best to consider leaving. You can always return at a later date.’

‘Forgive us Elder Thomos, but we won’t be leaving our homes on account of a stray beast inhabiting the marsh.’

‘I understand,’ said Thomos. ‘I worry for the village. Whatever happened all those years ago plays on my mind. Something terrible happened to Black Water, and I fear it might happen again. I only regret we don’t have more information.’

‘The water is receding,’ said Arn. ‘It might drive the creature away also; in which case, all is well again.’

‘True . . . true,’ replied Thomos. ‘Anyway, I am leaving for Black Path; I’ll return when I feel it’s safe to do so. Irrational as it might be . . . the old tales concerning the marsh have me spooked. Most of the families are leaving too, please give it some consideration.’ He gave a nod, then turned and left.

***

Another rumbling of the earth had dragged Arn from his house. It was a shallow quake, but he felt it none the less. It was the third he could remember in the last week, and they unnerved him.

The evening air was the coolest it had been in months. He pulled a small blanket around his shoulders as he stood on the walkway looking out over the marsh. Everything looked ominous against the rising moon; not that it was ever something that crossed his mind, but with that thing lurking, and the earth groaning, it all seemed different. Even the trees where the marsh met the swamp looked bigger, more threatening. He shook his head and made his way back to his home for an early night.

***

Arn awoke to hammering on his door. He scrambled from his bed, throwing on his pants and shirt. He rushed to open the door, expecting bad news. It was Villus.

‘Quickly Arn,’ said Villus, before Arn had even opened the door fully. ‘There’s something you have to see.’ He finished getting dressed and they made their way towards the square, Villus leading the way. It was later than he thought.

‘Can’t believe I slept so long,’ said Arn.

‘We all did,’ replied Villus. ‘I just hope it’s still here.’ They reached the square and passed through to the eastern border where Arn had only stood a few hours ago. Most of the remaining folk were gathered, staring into the distance.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Arn. Brandy was on the walkway with a sword in his hand. He didn’t answer; he just pointed. Arn stood next to him, following the line of his arm and sword to where he was looking, to where they were all looking.

‘In front of the tree line,’ said Brandy. ‘Where the marsh meets the swamp.’ It didn’t take Arn long to spot it.

‘By the Gods, is that the creature?’

‘It looks like it,’ said Brandy.

‘It’s huge,’ said Arn, swallowing his nerves. Roughly one hundred yards from the palisade fence the creature they had wondered about now watched them unflinching. A long serpent-like neck with a kind of a snake head. It was completely black as far as he could tell.

‘I wanted you to see it,’ said Villus. ‘You may have seen its like before?’                                ‘I haven’t,’ replied Arn. ‘Not in all my years fishing.’

‘It’s the biggest snake ever,’ said Joe.

‘It’s no snake. Look at its head. It’s more like an eel,’ said Villus.

‘Bless your eyesight lad,’ said Brandy.

They watched as the creature watched them. Every so often it would slink back beneath the water and re-appear at a new position within the same patch of marsh. ‘How long has it been here?’ asked Arn.

‘Almost twenty minutes or so.’

‘We have to kill it,’ said Arn quietly, as if it was listening.

‘I think that’s already been agreed,’ said Villus.

‘It might fancy the marsh as a nice place to raise a family,’ said Brandy. ‘And we can’t have that.’

‘What weapons have we got,’ asked Mina, one of the villagers who remained behind with her husband. She was looking at Brandy.

‘We have swords and shields,’ he replied in a concerned tone. ‘Maybe a spear or two.’ He turned and looked at Arn. ‘But I think a fisherman might have something more suited.’

‘I Have a couple of decent harpoons alright. And a good hunting bow. They might be more practical than swords and shields if we have to go out to it.’

‘Well get what you have,’ said Brandy. ‘Best be prepared. If it comes any closer, we’ll make our presence felt.’ He looked back to the marsh, but it was gone.

‘I’ll keep watch,’ said another of the villagers named Carl.

Arn, Mina and Villus made their way back towards the square.

‘How’s Royos?’ asked Arn

‘He’s getting better,’ replied Mina, ‘Shouldn’t be too long before he’s properly walking.’

‘I broke my leg once,’ said Villus. ‘Playing sticks and ball in the city. Long time ago now.’

‘Were you any good?’

‘Not really. But a lot of women used to come and watch the games. I think that’s how I got injured.’

‘Distracted,’ said Arn. Villus just laughed. ‘It was a bad injury, but I did meet Maggie in the medical tent. So, I suppose it paid off,’ he said. ‘Speaking of Maggie. I better go tell her what’s happening. I’ll be back to help in a while.’ With that he was gone.

***

The next morning brought a thick fog that shrouded the village. Strange rumblings rattled the houses again. Mina was carting a sack of rice to the main hall, she stopped to feel the vibrations beneath her feet. She looked across the square at Arn. ‘I think this is the strongest it’s been.’

‘I think so too,’ he said. He had a wheelbarrow full of logs, they were planning on making the village hall a communal house during their un-certain situation.

‘Fintin says it’s a landslide of sorts, happens with over saturated earth,’ said Brandy, looking into the mist in the direction of where the ruin on the hill would be.

‘That would also explain the strange water movements,’ said Arn.

‘Would it explain where that thing came from though?’

‘Perhaps it’s been displaced from wherever it once lived.’

As they were moving stores into the main hall, Carl appeared looking a little concerned. ‘I think you all better see this,’ he said sharply. They followed him to the eastern boundary of the village where they stopped short, not quite making it to the wooden walkway as the ground was waterlogged.

‘It could only have happened recently. I was here this morning,’ said Mina.

‘As was I,’ said Carl, ‘And much of last night too. There was no sign of a rise in the water.’

To Mina and Carl’s shock, Brandy sloshed through the huge puddle and ascended the few steps onto the walkway for a better look. The water licked the palisade wall in little waves, but it was hard to tell if it was still advancing or receding. ‘We need sandbags, earth and stone,’ he said aloud. Carl rushed back towards the square. Arn stood with his toe marking the edge of the puddle. Mina looked at him nervously, afraid he was going to join Brandy in disturbing the water.

‘You know not to provoke the water,’ she said, looking a little embarrassed as she said it.

‘I’ve been drenched plenty of times over the years by the marsh,’ Arn replied. ‘Has done me no harm yet. You’re putting too much stock in what those Elders of ours are spouting.’ He pulled his foot back, Leaving a strong footprint. ‘I’ll get something to use as a marker,’ he said.

Just then Royos came hobbling along on his crutches. Mina went to his side to act as extra support.

‘I hear the water rose through the wall,’ he said, while staring at the large puddle.

‘Indeed,’ replied Brandy, sloshing his way back through the water. ‘But hopefully that’s as far as it goes.’

‘We think it was a landslide,’ said Arn, returning with a potted plant from one of the abandoned cottages. He placed it on top of the footprint he had left.

‘Perhaps we should have left,’ Royos said quietly to Mina.

‘I’m not leaving our home over a puddle of water, even if it is cursed,’ she said.

‘She’s right,’ interrupted Brandy. ‘The stories of the cursed waters are just that . . . stories. You don’t truly believe that the village is in danger from a little water, do you?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Royos.

‘Curse or not . . . I’m willing to try keep the water at bay, if it will save our homes and livelihood,’ said Mina.

‘The curse. Isn’t that what we’ve all believed for generations . . . everyone,’ Replied Royos, looking a little surprised.

‘Some more than others, and to various degrees, perhaps. But that’s the Elders influence. And right now . . . they are gone. We who remain can openly share our concerns about fear mongering and exaggerated tales of a village lost to a cursed marsh,’ said Brandy.

‘I think you’re out of line,’ said Royos.

‘Perhaps,’ said Brandy. ‘But you can’t deny you haven’t thought the old stories strange hey. And nobody that’s remained, believes the village is worth abandoning because of those stories.’ Brandy walked up to Royos and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Now. Have you any old sacks that we can use for sandbags?’

***

Arn finally finished the repairs on another old harpoon from his shed. He grabbed it, along with a second one and made his way to the main hall. It was dark out, and the mist still hung, bringing an extra chill to the air. He pushed the door open and was delighted to be met by the instant heat of a roaring fire. Villus closed the door behind him as he placed the harpoons on the ground.

Everyone who had remained was gathered . . . all twenty men and women who refused to leave their homes. There was food cooking by the fire, and drink being passed around, the mood was jovial.

‘They have a good look to ‘em, I’ll give them that,’ said Brandy. As he bent down to examine the harpoons.

‘That’s three in total,’ said Arn. ‘Now we just need three men with good aim and a strong thrust.’

‘We’ll have plenty to choose from, have you seen the amount of children in the village recently,’ said Brandy with a laugh. ‘Now grab yourself a drink.’

***

Arn opened his eyes. His mouth was beyond dry, and his head was thumping. He had made it home at least. His final memories of the night were hazy at best. He looked at the picture of his wife on the bedside locker, then dragged himself into his kitchen and poured a cup of water from its barrel and sat down.

He looked out at the morning, still misty. He was hoping for a break in the weather. He thought about fishing, then thought about the creature in the marsh. He had harpooned a couple of big fish in his day, even a stray alligator, but nothing as monstrous as this serpent. After a quick meal and some time to gather himself, he ventured outside.

There was a commotion, and a small crowd were gathered at the hall. The remaining two of the town guards, Villus and Anders were at the centre of it, trying to answer questions. As Arn approached it was clear that all was not well. Mina turned from the crowd to face him.

‘It’s John,’ she said, ‘He’s missing.’

‘Well, where was he last?’

‘He went to check the water levels, not more than an hour ago,’ said one of the villagers, ‘We’ve checked everywhere since then.’

‘Might he have left for Black Path?’ asked Carl, looking back towards the perimeter fence. ‘Maybe the water has spooked him.’

‘Spooked . . . not likely,’ said Mina.

Arn and Mina made their way towards the east palisade wall. The water had crept even further into the village. Billy was standing at its edge.

‘I think it has taken him,’ he said, as Arn stood beside him.

‘What has taken him?’ asked Arn.

‘The waters of course.’ Arn gave him a frustrated glance.

‘Has anyone checked the wall?’

‘Not likely,’ said Billy. ‘But surely he wouldn’t have risked venturing to the wall.’

Arn braced himself and waded into the water. It came up to his knees. He didn’t care if it was cursed or not, enough was enough. He made his way up the steps onto the wooden walkway, which now only sat inches above the waterline, and stared into the mist.

Even though he was only a few yards from dry land, he had never felt the silence so heavy, exaggerated by the lapping sound of the water against the Palisade wall. A noise in the rushes caught his attention, forcing him to step back. He could only see so far as the mist would allow. In all his years he had never seen anything like it. Even the rushes were growing closer to the village now that the water was closing in. Arn shook his head in confusion.

Something gently bumped off the wall beneath him. It might have been the water, but it was louder than the little waves which continued to lap against the timber. Once again, he took a breath, stepped forward, and peered over of the wall. Several large fish were surveying their new surroundings, and quickly swam away once they noticed him. He exhaled in relief, slightly embarrassed at himself.

‘Maybe you should come back,’ shouted Billy.

‘Coming now,’ replied Arn. As he said it something else caught his eye. Beneath the water a glint of light twinkled. It was the steel of a weapon, a sword. He crouched down and placed both hands on the wall to position himself for jumping over and into the water to retrieve the sword but stopped for a moment. He looked back up, staring into the mist. It appeared to move in waves, as water might, allowing quick glimpses of the view beyond, before quickly shrouding over again. He thought he’d seen a tree. What tree he couldn’t remember. He looked at the sword once more and thought better of jumping into the water. He quickly turned and jumped into the water on the village side, making his way back towards Billy and Mina.

‘What is it?’ asked Mina. ‘You look off.’

‘I think I just spotted John Brandy’s sword,’ replied Arn.

‘That means he didn’t leave Black Water,’ said Mina.

‘Of course he didn’t leave Black Water,’ snapped Arn angrily. ‘He never left, and never would have. I’m a fool for even thinking he might. I can’t believe no one checked the walkway.’ Arn stormed off, back towards the hall.

Outside, Old Neddy and his daughter Elm were crafting a large cage from timber. Arn stopped to inspect the work, more out of curiosity than anything else. Old Neddy, a long-time carpenter stopped hammering and stood up with several nails clamped between his lips. He spat them into his hand and looked at Arn.

‘It’ll be a simple cage trap with a dividing section in the middle to make it even longer; no idea if it will work. We’ll bait the inside and lower it into the water. Who knows, if we’re lucky, we might just catch that thing.’ Arn nodded in agreement.

‘It looks sturdy, and a fine size too,’ he said.

‘This is only half the cage Arn,’ replied Neddy. ‘I don’t know about you, but it looked huge to me.’ Arn took a breath, knowing Neddy was right. He nodded again and went inside the hall.

He took a seat at the long table; the smell of stew was fantastic. Neddy’s wife Loretta and Joe were preparing a meal for everyone. Royos was doing what he could to help about the ready-made kitchen area but was more of a hindrance than anything. He spotted Arn and made his way over, letting out a deep sigh of relief as he sat at the table, placing his crutches on the floor.

‘How’s the leg today?’ asked Arn.

‘I’ve overdone it the last couple of days,’ replied Royos. ‘It’s a bit sore, but it’s getting stronger.

‘For what it’s worth, I’m glad you two stayed. For a while there I thought everyone was going to leave,’ said Arn.

‘To be honest,’ replied Royos. ‘It’s the animals I’m staying for. Whatever about putting ourselves up somewhere for a few nights. I’m in no condition to be carting chickens and pigs back to Black Path, or even Black Fields as I heard some mention before they left.’

‘I suppose Black Path can only comfortably hold so many visitors. Anyway, by the morning we’ll have the thing trapped hopefully. And once the water drops, things will be back to normal.’

‘By the grace of the Gods,’ said Royos. ‘We can’t afford to leave. We’ve put so much into this new venture of ours with the orchard and the animals. I know you’re not a supporter of the Black Town Union, but you know it financially makes sense for everyone in the village to join, considering the amount of produce the marsh gives us, the trading bonuses would help so much.’

‘I understand the argument,’ said Arn. ‘They’ll build us a new road and a proper pier . . . more security. All for a small tax. I suppose I’m just stubborn. And the village could do with a bit more life, less isolation. I’ll have another think about it; and talk to any others like me.’

‘Thanks Arn,’ said Royos. ‘And once we start making a few coins, we’re going to think about children. But don’t say anything because Mina wants to surprise everyone when it happens.’

‘Great to hear,’ said Arn with a laugh. ‘I won’t say a   word.’

The door opened again and Villus stormed in. He was now in full armour, a chainmail tunic overlain with studded leathers.

‘Look at you,’ said Arn. ‘All dressed up.’

‘I’ll need to be if the trap fails. Best to make sure it all still fits,’ replied Villus. ‘I’m here to collect the harpoons you’re giving myself and Anders. We need to get a feel for them.’ Arn made his way to the back of the hall where the three harpoons lay. He picked up the best looking of the three and put it to one side. ‘I’m afraid this one is mine,’ he said. ‘As I’ll be beside you no doubt if we have to hunt it.’ He grabbed the other two and handed them over. ‘You can argue between each other, over whose is whose.’ Villus took the harpoons and left as sudden as he entered.

A few hours later, in the heavy mist and darkness, and to a full crowd of all the remaining villagers, several of them made towards the eastern wall carting the large wooden cage. Mina and Joe walked behind carrying torches for light. They weren’t long lugging the cage when to their horror, their feet hit water much earlier than expected.

‘Mina, the torch please,’ asked Villus, who was carrying the front end of the cage with Arn, and already up to his ankles in water.

Afraid to step in the water, she reached as far as she could, passing the torch to Neddy who was at the back end, who in turn passed it up to Villus.

‘It’s a good thing that there’s six of us left not afraid to get our feet wet,’ said Neddy. With Villus holding the torch in front they sloshed onwards.

A little further on Arn spotted the plant pot he had put down, the rim of the pot just visible in the dark water. ‘The water has only risen by a plant pot,’ shouted Arn over his shoulder.

‘How big was the pot?’ asked Elm.

‘Medium,’ replied Arn. Elm was only asked to help because there weren’t six men not afraid of the water, so she gladly joined in.

‘So why has it encroached so much?’ she asked.

‘It’s the gradient,’ said Fintin, on the other side of the cage, while shivering as he spoke. There’s a slight slope around the perimeter of the village, but not so much as you move to the centre.’

‘Its bloody cold is what,’ replied Elm, with her legs now fully submerged.

Finally they reached the perimeter wall, and were up to their waists in marsh water. The outer fence was still visible, but only just. Arn and Villus rested the front end of the cage on the now submerged wooden walkway and clambered up. Villus held the torch up high, it being the only light they had.

‘On the count of three, you all push, while myself and Arn will drag the cage onto the wall.’ Villus counted three, and they awkwardly got the cage balanced on the wooden walkway.

‘What about bait?’ asked Fintin.

‘Arn’s going to stick his legs into the cage and keep kicking them all night,’ said Elm with a shivering laugh.

‘I’d like to keep my legs,’ replied Arn. Smiling for a moment, then looked towards the darkness of the marsh which he was now practically standing in.

‘I don’t like this,’ said Villus,’ We’re extremely vulnerable here.’ He moved the torch from side to side. ‘Can’t see shit either.’

‘I’ll get the bait,’ said Fintin. He turned and made his way back towards the other villagers as quick as he could.                                                                                                                                          ‘Get another torch or lantern,’ shouted Arn after him.

‘Can I go back?’ asked Elm.

‘You might as well,’ said Villus.

Neddy made his way around to where he guessed the steps to be, and gingerly made his way up to them, closely followed by Anders. Anders kept a close eye on Neddy, nervous the old fella might clip the barely visible wall and go head-first into the marsh.

Villus quickly jumped back into the water and back up on Arn’s side. There was barely enough room for them both to comfortably grab the cage.

‘Alright,’ he said. ‘Again, on the count of three, we’ll slide it into the marsh. Then we’ll drop the bait in.’ They could hear Fintin splashing back through the water behind them. On three they slid the cage back into the water on the marsh side. It bobbled up and down, not fully sinking.

‘I put as many rocks in the base as I could without making it too heavy to carry,’ said Neddy.

‘It’ll be fine once it’s tied up,’ said Arn, throwing a glancing eye out towards the darkness. He didn’t like to think it, but if the creature had in fact taken John Brandy from such a low water level, it would have no problem taking one of them now that they were practically level with it.

‘Keep your spear ready,’ said Arn to Villus. ‘I have that horrible feeling of being watched.’

‘You didn’t bring your harpoon?’ asked Villus.

‘I wasn’t expecting this much water. I was only thinking about carrying the cage.’   ‘Swap places,’ said Villus. Shuffling himself past Arn. Fintin was now passing a small cage with a chicken in it to Neddy.

‘Nothing better happen to that chicken,’ said Mina.

‘And it better not be drowned,’ said Fintin with a grin. She threw him a sharp glare. He had a lantern in the other hand, bringing much needed light. Neddy opened a small section on top of the trap and dropped the chicken cage into a little compartment. The chicken was still above the water, but only just.

‘Good thing the cage didn’t sink much more,’ said Anders. Probably best if the chicken stays alive to make some noise.’ He too had a spear and was standing as if ready for combat.

‘I think that’s it,’ said Neddy, as he tied the last knot behind the wall. ‘Best be getting back.’ No one hesitated in jumping back in the water and wading back to dry land.

There was a disconcerting sigh of relief among the others as they all returned, as if it wasn’t expected. ‘Any sign of the creature?’ asked Royos.

‘No, thank the gods,’ replied Villus, as he made his way towards the hall. ‘I just hope it likes chicken.’

‘Villus?’ called Royos again, quieter this time. ‘Some more folk are planning on leaving tomorrow.’

‘That’s fine,’ said Villus. ‘We’ll discuss it in the morning.’

***

Arn stayed in his own home again. But many who were near the encroaching water opted to stay in the hall. He didn’t sleep well. Waking constantly to imagined sounds of thrashing water. He now sat on the edge of his bed with his head buried in his hands. ‘What the hell is going on?’ he grumbled to himself. ‘I wish I could turn back time. I wish it could be the way it was.’ He sat up straight, eyes bloodshot from tiredness and tears. The first break of light through the window caught his attention, and it looked as if the mist had receded. He snuffled hard and rubbed his eyes dry. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked mournfully at the picture of his wife. He finally gathered himself and went outside.

He made his way towards the village square and hall; he was the only one up. There was still a mist, but not as dense. He made for the eastern wall, delighted that the water stayed the same level. Then he heard it, the sound of water thrashing and timber banging. He stopped dead in his tracks. The sound was unmistakeable. He raced for the hall and burst the doors open.

‘We got it,’ he shouted. ‘We got it.’

Within minutes he was standing at the water’s edge with his harpoon and spear in his hand, and Villus and Anders on either side of him. The rest of the villagers were behind them. Infront was thirty yards or so of flooded ground before they reached the eastern wall. And behind that was the cage, which they could hear hammering from side to side. But something else had their attention now, all of them. Right behind where the cage was splashing in the water, still shrouded by a light mist, were trees. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but as the breeze shifted and turned, clearing the mist, their dark silhouettes came forward. Anders was about to speak when Villus cut him off.

‘Let’s just kill the thing first,’ he snapped angrily. The three of them waded into the water and made for the now fully submerged walkway.

‘Feels like we’re actually walking in the marsh,’ said Anders.

‘That’s because we are,’ replied Villus. ‘The marsh doesn’t care about wooden boundaries.’

‘Wherever it spreads its water, is technically marshland,’ added Arn. They reached where fence once was, now fully submerged. The top of the cage was visible, but no longer violently hammering back and forward, and no chicken. The three of them paused for a moment, standing in the cold water beneath the looming trees and the motionless wooden trap.

‘What if it’s escaped,’ asked Anders. Neither Arn nor Villus answered. They both clambered onto the submerged walkway. Arn looked into the murky water, not sure what he was looking at, his vision distorted by the ripples of light on the surface.

‘What are we waiting for?’ said Villus, raising his harpoon. He brought it down hard, accurately picking a spot between the timbers. The cage rattled violently, knocking hard against the walkway and throwing Arn and Villus off balance. Anders hurried to join them, spear in one hand and harpoon in the other.

Villus and Arn repeatedly thrust the weapons through the cage as it continued to hammer against the submerged wall. Every now and then the long black hump of the serpent’s back would show itself before coiling beneath the water for cover. But there would be no shelter as all three men were now trying impale it.

One of the ropes that Neddy had tied to the fence had become undone, and the cage started to drift out at one side. ‘Shit,’ mumbled Arn beneath his breath, as he reached into the water, fishing for the loose rope to retie it.

‘Quickly Arn, we’re losing our angle on it,’ shouted Villus. The rope had come loose on the wall side, meaning it was drifting out with the cage. To their shock, a black octopus like tentacle emerged from the water within the trap and wrapped itself around a timber strut.

‘What the hell?’ said Villus. The three of them watched on, confused as to what they had caught. With a piercing crack the timber section snapped in half and the tentacle disappeared into the water again. Another crack, but beneath the water this time. Arn didn’t hesitate, he jumped into the water beside the cage to get the rope. Although hard to see in the murky water, sure enough the rope was there, still attached to the wooden trap. He grabbed the end of the rope, then looked up. Only two feet away, staring back through the murky water were two darkened pits for eyes, upon a huge feel like head. As he stared, he could hear more cracking timbers, but the gaze was hypnotic, dreamlike. For the want of air, he forced himself to resurface to a relieved looking Villus and Anders.

‘Quick,’ shouted Villus, reaching out his hand. More timbers cracked and crunched. Arn handed the end of the rope to Villus and scrambled back onto the walkway. The cage was pulled in tight again, Anders raised his spear to strike, and as he lunged forward a huge earthquake rattled the earth. Already off balance, Anders toppled straight over the wall and into the marshy waters.

‘Damn,’ shouted Villus, rushing to the spot where Anders went over. Arn opted for the harpoon now, lancing the water with all his strength. He would make sure it didn’t escape no matter what. If he could harpoon it, then he could tie the beast itself to the walkway. But each throw of the harpoon either missed or only glanced the creature, and was awkward to pull back, catching on the wooden frame more times than not. More thrashing and cracking of timber as the harpoon came back to him, feeling it tug against the squirming creature.

Anders was hanging onto the wall, keeping his head above water while Villus had a hold of his arm. He was dazed and had dropped his weapons. ‘I need my spear and harpoon,’ he said.

‘Be quick,’ said Villus, letting go of his arm, glancing nervously at Arn. Arn flung the Harpoon once more into the broken cage, but this time there was no movement, the cage was still. He turned to see Anders’ head dive beneath the water.

‘Get out of the water!’ screamed Arn. But it was no use, Anders couldn’t hear. Villus joined in, splashing the water, and screaming for Anders. He turned and looked at the cage bobbing gently up and down, then at Arn.

‘Has it escaped?’ he asked.

‘It has,’ said Arn, with a tired expression. They both looked back to where Anders had dived. Villus got closer to the water, trying to see beneath the surface as Arn kept an eye out for the creature.

‘What’s he at?’ demanded Villus. ‘It’s not deep, he can stand.’ It seemed an eternity for the two watching, but finally Anders surfaced with both spear and harpoon in hand and gasping profusely. Arn grabbed the weapons from him while Villus helped drag him up. He was heavy in his mail tunic.

‘Get the hell out of the water,’ shouted Villus, to a lumbering Anders. Arn was now helping too. ‘The bloody thing has escaped.’ Anders quickened his pace, and soon all three of them stood looking out towards the marsh, up past their knees in water, and exhausted.

‘We thought you were a goner,’ said Arn.

‘It’s actually deeper than you’d think,’ said Anders.

Villus looked at the water about his knees. Then behind where they previously climbed up onto the walkway. ‘I think it’s risen again,’ he said.

‘The earthquake,’ said Arn. He looked at the trees in more detail now. ‘Would a landslide really move trees like this? So many together, and so precise?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Villus. ‘But we’re not safe here anymore. And I’m starting to second guess armour for this situation.’

‘I’m second guessing everything,’ said Anders. ‘Let’s go back and pack our belongings.’

Arn had turned and was ready to plunge into the water on the village side, when from the corner of his eye he noticed Anders clumsily falling in ahead of him. He was about to laugh at Anders mishap, until he spotted the creatures back slink over the palisade wall, just barely breaking the water surface not two yards from where Arn stood.

‘Anders,’ screamed Arn. Villus was already ripping off some of his less water friendly armour. Anders was thrashing in the water with the long black body of the beast coiling around him and tentacles smothering his face. Arn launched his harpoon but missed; his target was right there but moving fast. He pulled it back in. villus now hit the water with a splash. He was instantly on the creature, trying to pull it from Anders. Arn readied for another throw, but Villus was in the way. Anders face was fully covered now, but his one free arm was still thrashing wildly.

‘Move!’ screamed Arn. Villus was tugging at the tentacles on Anders’ face. Both men were being violently churned around in the water. The flailing torrent of splashing water was simply chaos. Picking a target to strike within the madness was impossible. Suddenly Villus’s head and shoulders disappeared beneath the water. Neither man was now visible, only the turning of the serpent’s long body like a corkscrew just breaking the water’s surface, and moving closer to Arn.

With both men possibly dead or dying, there was nothing to lose. Instead of throwing the harpoon, Arn guessed a spot on the spiralling snake, and threw himself. He thrust the harpoon down while mid-air, putting all his weight behind it. He hit the water with an awkward jolt but was confident he’d landed the harpoon in something . . . but what, he couldn’t tell. Before he could come up for air he was smashed across the face by the beast’s tail, knocking him back through the water. He instinctively inhaled, taking in a half breath of water, then spewed his lungs up while trying to get to his feet. His arm hit off something timber, he grabbed it for stability while finally breathing in some actual air. Still half vomiting, he pulled himself back onto the walkway and reached for the spear he’d left. He turned to face the water again. To his relief he could see Villus also coughing up his insides; and dragging an unconscious Anders behind him towards dry land. Then to his left, creeping out from behind a submerged shed moved the harpoon, sticking straight up from the water with the line still attached. The rest of the villagers were watching on through the thin veil of mist. Someone was running towards Villus.

‘Villus,’ yelled Arn. ‘Behind you.’ Villus turned; at first he couldn’t see what he was looking for, until he spotted the imbedded harpoon. He hurried his pace, arms underneath Anders armpits, and backtracking into shallower water as fast as he could . . . but he would never make it. The harpoon moved side to side, and closer to Villus, until it moved to his left to attack from an angle. Defenceless, Villus dropped Anders and raised his fists. The outline of the serpent could be seen by the ripples it left on the water’s surface. It sped up, whipping up water with its tail. As its skull like jaws rose from the water Fintin crashed down upon it with a sword, slashing at its neck. The beast squirmed its body, slamming into Villus with its momentum.

It lashed out with lightning speed, grabbing Fintin within its huge jaws and submerged him. Then it returned to Villus who was still getting to his feet and trying to keep Anders’ face above water. This time the beast rose from the water like they had seen before. Towering over Villus and showing all its monstrous form. It held itself upright like a cobra might, but with a head more resembling the charred skull of an eel. Its body was snake-like, but with several tentacles running almost flush along its full length.

The villagers, only several yards behind were shouting and screaming for Villus to flee, some even throwing random objects to take its attention. But it had its prey in sight. It reared back to strike, but something tugged it, throwing its balance. It turned to see Arn who had the tether of the harpoon wrapped around his waist and was moving around towards the shallows. Old Neddy and Maggie had dashed into the water to give Villus a spear and drag Anders to safety.

Arn was still pulling the beast with all his strength, but it had submerged itself and was now pulling him back towards the wall and the marsh. Arn pulled more but it wasn’t enough, he crumpled to his knees, then splashed face down. He could feel the strong current of the beast’s tail rush by as he was dragged. He kept the harpoon tether tight around him, desperately trying to get to his feet, while snatching small breaths of air when he could. He would die before he let this bastard make it back to the marsh. As if from no-where, while disorientated and confused, hands landed on his shoulders and he was pulled to his feet. Neddy and Elm were on either side of him with spears in their hands. The beast was still trying to retreat to deeper waters, but now the tug of war was even. Arn was waist deep and his hands were bleeding from holding the harpoon rope; but it was stuck through the beast good, and he would never let go.

More villagers joined in. the serpent thrashed and squirmed, throwing waves of water over everyone, but the villagers persevered. Finally in the shallow water, only yards from dry land, the beast turned to attack, coiling up on its rear, but too many spear tips were in its face, prodding and stabbing, keeping its jaws at bay. In one final heave they dragged it into the village square, right at the water’s edge now. In one final attempt to attack it lunged its gaping jaws at Elm, but it wasn’t quick enough, as Royos brought a huge log chopping axe down upon its head, burying it deep. Instantly the serpent went limp. Everyone stepped back, finally it was dead.

Arn painfully unravelled the harpoon rope from around his fists. He looked around and spotted Villus sitting on the ground doubled over with Anders lying beside him. He knelt beside Villus, only then noticing his torn tunic and bloody wound beneath. He looked at Anders.

‘He’s gone,’ said Villus. ‘He’s been gone a while.’ Villus lifted Anders’ shirt revealing a huge bit mark in his side.

‘Ahh shit,’ grumbled Arn, slumping down beside Villus. Moments later several of the villagers were fussing about them with bandages and tonics. They tried everything they knew on Anders, but it was too late.

The mist still hung in the air, but thiner now. The trees surrounding the submerged walkway were visible. Half of the village, the eastern half was flooded. There was no boundary anymore; no palisade wall to divide the village from the marsh, just one combined mess. Arn looked at the houses as his hand was being bandaged. He wondered how much work it would take to move them all piece by piece back to higher ground.

Then a frightening thought struck him. He spotted Elm tending to Fintin. She looked finished whatever she was doing. ‘Elm!’ he shouted. She made her way over as he got to his feet. ‘Could you do me a favour?’ he asked. She made a playful grumpy face. But he didn’t smile.

‘Could you quickly head out of the village, towards Black Path, as far as the orchard. I need you to check the trail out of the village.’

‘Check the trail? I don’t understand.’ She replied. ‘What’s on the trail?’

‘Just check it,’ said Arn. ‘And bring someone with you.’ He then limped off towards the north end, where the pier was. It too was flooded to almost the height of a man. Again, there were trees around the border. He contemplated wading out to inspect further, but didn’t fancy another dip, just in case. He turned and made his way back to the square. He sat again and watched as Anders was taken away. There were faces of sorrow and confusion, and lots of tears, at all that seemed lost.

Elm came towards him looking confused and worried. ‘How did it go?’ asked Arn.

‘I don’t know,’ replied Elm.

‘Please tell me that the trail back to Black Path is still there?’

‘It isn’t,’ said Elm. ‘There’s nothing . . . only marsh and small trees; and some of the orchard. In the distance I thought I could see what might have been the trail, but I couldn’t tell.’

‘We need to get out of here,’ said Arn.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Elm.

‘It’s the entire village,’ said Arn. It’s been pulled into the marsh somehow.’

‘But what about the landslides?’ She asked. Arn didn’t answer.

‘Tell everyone to start packing. And I mean everyone,’ he said. She turned and left him staring at the trees.

The mist had thinned again, unveiling even more trees and undergrowth, closer to a swamp than marsh. Something caught his eye. A shadow to his left. As more mist dissipated it became obvious that it was a hill of earth. Only when the structure of the ruined temple became visible did he realise how far they had travelled. Then, at the foot of the hill, as the mist thinned more, he could see the overgrown and dilapidated outline of what might once have been several buildings of an old village.  He shook his head in disbelief, about to turn and tell the others when something moved between the roots of the trees. Then something else caught his attention on the other side, something long and snake like.

‘Arn,’ Shouted Mina frantically. ‘I think you better come and look. I think there are more beasts on the Black Path side.’

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