In the Land of the Everliving by Stephen R Lawhead

Author:Stephen R Lawhead
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

20

Feeling every inch the intruders that they were, the four Dé Danann hurried past the field of vats to the long ramp leading to the entrance to the dún, pausing at the gate to watch and listen. They saw no sign of activity and the only sound they heard was the incessant clatter of crows from somewhere inside. Conor, satisfied that there were no Scálda lurking in the shadows, slipped in and pressed himself to the back of the gatepost. Donal followed and took his place next to him; Fergal and Galart joined them a moment later. As observed from the open entrance, the yard was silent and, save for a half-starved brindled cat that hissed at them as it disappeared behind a pile of rags, deserted. The surrounding buildings—four large houses, a wattle-and-daub hall with a high, pitched roof of haphazard thatch, a granary, several storehouses, and a small forge—appeared empty, too. Many of the doors were open and no sounds came from within.

There were more buildings half hidden behind the hall. Conor gave a nod and they proceeded to investigate, pausing at the open doors of the buildings they passed. All were vacant and empty but for rubbish and detritus—broken jars, scraps of cloth or leather, worthless furniture. The hall was the same. The board had been removed, and the benches overturned; the hearth was cold, the ashes of the last fire sodden from rain seeping in through the roof; the floors were covered with rushes rank with mildew and animal urine giving the great empty space a sour stink. One whiff, and Fergal observed, ‘No one here but the rats … filthy rats.’

‘It looks like they left in a hurry,’ said Galart.

Just then a great squawking arose from somewhere outside. Conor, having seen enough, retreated to the yard to see a flock of rooks and ravens swirling over the dún. The screeching emanated from someplace behind the hall. ‘Let’s see what all the noise is about.’

Fergal rolled his eyes, muttering, ‘And then let us be gone and be glad.’

Passing down the narrow gap of the close-set buildings, they slipped around to the back of the hall where they found several more storehouses, a large stable, and a fenced horse pen. The contents of that pen had drawn the carrion birds, and it drew the Dé Danann now.

The sudden appearance of the men sent a multitude of rooks and crows and ravens, squawking and flapping in all directions—and not these only: among the swirling gyrating flock were magpies and gulls, jackdaws and jays. A few larger birds—buzzards, red kites, and an eagle—glanced up and glared at the men, but did not take wing as they continued their grisly feast on the mound of bloated human corpses.

Conor started forward and then stopped to stare. The others stood frozen in place. Heaped in the centre of the cattle pen were the decaying remains of a score or more human beings. Men, women, and children, their bodies discoloured and swollen in the early stages of putrefaction.

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