The Realms Thereunder by Ross Lawhead

Author:Ross Lawhead [Lawhead, Ross]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson Inc.
Published: 2011-08-02T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Trolls in Morven

1

Now . . .

Alex moved carefully among the loose rocks and stones that formed the base of Morven’s northern slope. Its name could be translated from Gaelic as either Big Mountain or Big Hill. Its technical classification was a “graham,” but its name fit either way. At over seven hundred meters in height, it was certainly a big hill, though on the small side for a mountain. However, in contrast to the otherwise level plain of Caithness, it seemed enormous, being the only feature in an otherwise completely flat landscape.

The ascent was relatively gentle. Alex walked beside Reverend Maccanish, who had insisted on accompanying him and being his guide to the area once Alex had more fully explained what he expected to find, and what he would have to do once he found it. It took the reverend little time to change into hiking clothes and rubber boots. Alex changed into some heavier gear—motorcycle gear, actually. Tough, padded leather trousers and a padded leather jacket, reinforced in the forearms, upper arms, chest, and back with metal plates. He also grabbed a rucksack with different sorts of emergency provisions and a long black object, which he slung on his back. He finished by lacing up a pair of army-issue, steel-toe boots. And they set off.

They had walked only about forty-five minutes and had made it about halfway around the graham. It was a little after noon, so they stopped for a break.

“Are you sure it’s a cave you’re looking for here? I know of none around here.”

“There will be . . . something,” Alex answered. “But incidentally, do you know of any caves or other rock formations in the area?”

“No, nothing like that. Why, do you think it more likely we’ll find the . . . creature there?”

“No, it’s probably here,” Alex said, offering another oatcake to Maccanish. “We just have to keep our eyes open. And our ears.

Even our—” Alex paused. Even as he was about to say it, he caught a whiff of something rotten on the wind.

“What is it?” Maccanish asked, slightly alarmed, twisting around. “Do you see—?”

“No, it’s alright,” Alex assured him. “Finish up,” he said, taking a long drink from his bottle of water. He packed his things together and brushed his hand over the long rectangular object wrapped in black that lay in his lap.

“Do you mind if I see it?” Maccanish asked, gesturing.

Alex thought for a moment and raised the black object— almost four feet long—and handed it to him.

Maccanish fumbled with it for a few moments and then found its rubberized handle and withdrew it from its scabbard.

“It’s like no sword I’ve ever seen,” Maccanish said, holding it upwards. It had just one cutting edge, which sloped and tapered at the top so that the blunt end was completely straight to the tip. It had a grey, brushed finish, which meant it didn’t shine or glimmer, except along the sharpened side. It was nearly five inches thick at its widest

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