The Forest Hag
The crew froze for a split second as their commanding officers disappeared. Then as one they splashed into the rippling pool.
"Captain," Chekov cried as he was brought to an abrupt halt by an invisible wall.
"Let's try further along," Sulu suggested and they ran along the water's edge trying to wade deeper, but they were repelled at each attempt.
"This force-field, or whatever it is, must encircle the whole pool," Uhura gasped after many further futile ventures to breach the unseen obstacle.
McCoy struggled to catch his breath. I'm getting too old for this. Damn those two. Always getting themselves into trouble. Leaving me behind to worry. Expecting me to pick up the pieces.
The others were all talking at once and he fought to contain his anger. As the most senior officer present it was his duty to take charge. "I suggest we talk to our sorcerer," he said. "And he better have some explanation for this."
The younger people readily agreed. They walked back, united in their concern and determination, and encircled the two natives of Arigol.
"Answers, Ayrond," McCoy said. "What's happened to them? Why can't we go in the water? What are you and this elf playing at?"
The mage lowered his eyes. "Forgive me, Healer. Naiads can be unpredictable. She who rules this pool has taken them to her demesne. Do not fear. They will be safe. She will return them."
"Return them! When? How can they breathe underwater? What does she want with them?" McCoy demanded. He was heartily sick of this place with its odd creatures and unscientific rules. Damn goblins and nymphs. "You're the sorcerer. Get them back."
"I regret to say that such a feat is beyond my powers. Even if I wielded great magic, it would be impossible to breach the natural demesne of a water-nymph."
"He knew, didn't he?" McCoy indicated the tall elf. "He encouraged Spock to go in there."
The harper nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest and bowed low but gave a start when Christine's hand touched his shoulder. He lifted his chin and stared at her, his eyes full of appeal.
"We must know if Captain Kirk and Mr Spock are safe," she said.
He slid to his knees at her feet and lowered his head. Christine chewed at her lip then exchanged glances with her shipmates.
Ayrond spoke into the tense silence. "You see before you one who has endured much pain. He is a noble being, brother to my beloved wife and a member of the royal eldritch house. Fate has decreed that he must play his part in what is to come. Do not condemn him for that. I beg of you to remember the Book of Prophecy. The Halfling Prince spoke with the unicorn who led us to the harper's door. We are here for a purpose. All will gradually be revealed. I ask you to consider the parts of the prophecy which concern each one of you. Is it not time to believe in its authenticity? Will you not accept and permit yourselves to follow your destined paths?"
"Do you want us to leave here without Captain Kirk and Mr Spock?" Uhura was horrified.
"Ah, Lady, your loyalty is wondrous to behold, but they may not return for some time. Perhaps it would be advisable to continue with your individual quests."
McCoy was incensed. "Just wait a damn minute, Ayrond. Who says we're goin' on any individual quests? We're not leaving Jim and Spock trapped down there in some watery prison."
"We have to accept the possibility that they might have drowned, Doctor," Sulu added reluctantly.
Uhura wiped at her eyes. "I can't believe that. I'll see if the unicorn will talk to me. Maybe she'll know something."
Christine touched the elf's arm. "Emrys, do you know if they're safe?" she asked. He looked up at her and smiled, his sombre face lighting up with a kind of ethereal beauty rarely seen in mortal men. "They are all right," she said answering her own question. "I can see it in your eyes."
McCoy frowned. "Christine, you've no proof."
The nurse looked over at him. "I believe him."
The doctor shook his head. He was neither as young nor as gullible as his senior nurse. After everything which had happened to them, he had no intention of trusting anyone in this place until they had proved their worth.
Uhura approached the two unicorns. The mother lay on her side, grooming the foal who snuggled against her playfully. Uhura sat down on the grass, a respectable distance away, and called out, "Greetings, Queen of Unicorns. I seek advice."
The beast raised her head, stared at Uhura from those deep-seeing lilac eyes and whinnied. At first the sound was unintelligible but gradually understanding dawned and Uhura found herself conversing with Chladagh Unicorn-Queen.
"Sister, neither the Halfling Prince nor his liege are in danger. Fear not for them. They will return when Caireen, Lady of the Pool, has imparted her wisdom to them. She will assist them in the task ahead. That is her function here."
"How can you be sure?" Uhura queried. "And why were they dragged underwater?
The unicorn was amused. "Ah, I am a magical creature, Lady. Caireen is mischievous but there is no evil in her. She has been long alone. One must make allowances for her when faced with two such handsome men."
"That's still no excuse," Uhura said.
"Be tolerant, my lady. All those who are female are sisters, be they human, elf, nymph or unicorn. We hold the ancient earth-magic and must use it wisely. There are those who seek to usurp our power, destroy the balance, rule the land with an iron fist. They have laid waste to most of Arigol. There are few places left which remain untouched. The priestesses, the wise-women, sorcerers and too many of our elven protectors have fallen under Evil's grasp. The arrival of the Seven of the Prophecy heralds the time of hope. It is your fate to rally the creatures, both magical and wild, to the cause of good. I cannot help you for I must await my liege's return."
Uhura could scarcely take in the unicorn's words. "You mean Spock?"
"Yes, that is the name by which you know him. He saved Deven, my child, and I am forever indebted to him. You and your companions must leave here. When you have fulfilled your quests you will all be reunited. Then the fate of Arigol will be decided."
"Then you don't sense any evil here?"
Chladagh snorted delicately. "I am unaware of any."
Uhura thanked the lovely creature, returned to her comrades and repeated the conversation.
"I don't think we should leave here without the captain and Spock," McCoy argued. "How can we know for sure if these people are telling us the truth?"
"Why don't we stay here for a day or so," Christine suggested. "Once they've spoken with the nymph surely they'll return."
"I agree, Christine," McCoy said. "And we have to keep that blasted force-field monitored. We'll take it in shifts."
Sulu turned to the mage. "Is the nymph's magic creating the barrier?"
Ayrond sighed. "A naiad has complete power over her own demesne."
"You're not answering my question," Sulu persisted.
"Swordsman, there is nothing you can do here. The mage lifted his staff. "I beg you all to leave. Your quests await. The prophecy has..."
"We don't give a damn about your prophecy," McCoy snapped. "What's happened to our friends?"
Chekov waded into the pool and tested the barrier. Frustrated, he pounded his fists against it and spat out some Russian curses.
Uhura sympathised with the young ensign's feelings. "I can't believe there's any malice in the unicorn and she seems to know something about the future."
"We're not goin' anywhere," McCoy said.
Uhura noted Ayrond's disappointed air but he swiftly turned away as he saw her scrutiny and, with head held high, he returned to the cottage.
Morning passed into afternoon then evening with no signs of the missing men. Uhura sighed deeply and stared over the gently lapping water, absently noting a light mist was beginning to form, and wondering for the hundredth time if there was any other way into the nymph's territory. Her mind drifted to the moment Kirk and Spock had disappeared and she wondered who or what would have the strength to drag a Vulcan down? The mischievous Caireen? Uhura shook her head in confusion. Everything was topsy-turvy here and nothing could be taken for granted.
A sudden loud scream pierced the quiet. Uhura sat up, her heart pounding.
"It came from over there," Sulu called as he began to run, pulling his sword from its scabbard.
Uhura scrambled to her feet, followed him, and plunged into an opalescent haze which thickened until she could no longer identify her surroundings. She stopped and called out to each of her friends in turn, her heartbeat escalating as she realised she was totally alone. This eerie fog was not a natural phenomenon, of that she was certain. The sudden change of weather smacked of only one thing - sorcery.
"Sulu," she called again. "Where are you? Dr McCoy, Christine, Pavel, can any of you hear me?" Uhura tried to control her breathing. There was no sense in mindless panic. She attempted to pierce the descending darkness, but could see nothing, and struggled on calling for her friends. No-one replied. Swearing to herself as she stumbled over a root, she slumped down and rubbed at her ankle. She was hopelessly lost.
There were only two choices to make. Wander about in circles in this fog, perhaps fall down a ravine and kill herself or stay put until it cleared and maybe still meet her end by whatever menace might lurk here. Neither were appealing prospects. She sat quietly, worrying over her companions. Surely this situation they were in was a figment of the imagination, yet somehow she knew that everything that had befallen them had been real.
Damn crazy universe!
A scuffling sound brought her fully alert. She stood up, listened, and swallowed nervously. Starfleet combat training was mandatory and she could well defend herself against a normal opponent; that is if whoever out there was human. The laboured breathing came nearer. She had to take the chance of it being one of her shipmates.
"Who's there?" she called. There was a loud recognisable gasp. "Dr McCoy?" Uhura's voice reflected her relief. She reached out a hand in the direction of the voice and touched a warm arm. Her fingers closed round a narrow but strong wrist and she pulled McCoy into a tight hug.
"I'm sure pleased to see you, Nyota." McCoy's voice was hoarse.
"Have you seen any of the others?" Uhura asked.
"None," he replied, keeping a firm grip on her. "The damn fog is so thick we could walk past one another without realising."
"I don't like this, Doctor. I think it was a trick to separate us." Uhura peered up at him. "Ayrond wants us to go on our different quests. He could have conjured the scream and the mist."
"He's manipulated us since the beginning. He probably thinks he's helping the prophecy along. Either that or he's tricked us for other purposes. I don't trust him."
Uhura shook her head. "I think he's genuine, Doctor. I just don't like being parted from the others like this. I wish he could have been straight with us."
McCoy sighed. "Well there's nothing we can do until the weather changes."
They waited for more than an hour, until visibility began to improve, and found themselves sitting in a flower filled clearing. Their backpacks, filled with provisions, lay close by. They looked at each another in complete understanding. Ayrond had engineered the diversion.
Uhura could see the Doctor's distress and knew the reason. "They'll be safe, Leonard. The unicorn said so."
"Damn wizards and naiads," McCoy grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. "Well, we can't stay here. Maybe we can find our way back."
Uhura caught a glimpse of movement amidst the slender trees surrounding them. "Who's there?" she asked.
There was a growl and McCoy jumped to his feet in alarm. "Wild animals," he said. "Let's get outta here."
Uhura stood up. "No. Remember the prophecy. She faced the location of their unknown visitor "Show yourself."
A large black wolf with burning eyes, sharp fangs and matted, filthy fur slunk towards them. McCoy stepped back, trying to pull Uhura with him. She resisted him and walked forward as the wolf sat on its haunches and intently watched her every move. Once she would have been afraid, as McCoy undoubtedly was, but now there was a knowledge within her which mysteriously overcame her fear. It permitted her to see the creature not just as a wild beast but as an intelligent being she could communicate with. She sang softly to it of the prophecy and how she and her comrades had arrived here.
The wolf whimpered like a big dog. He told her his name - Lorc - and of the cruelties inflicted on him by Medrikhor's troops. He showed her the seared fur and the open wounds on his back and paws and recounted tales of unchecked viciousness against all of Arigol's creatures. Uhura listened in horror then related the animal's story to her companion.
"Will it let me help?" McCoy asked, his compassion overcoming his fear.
Lorc agreed and within moments Uhura was helping the doctor clean the wounds with water from the bottle in his pack. The animal lay on its side, and as Uhura stroked the long muzzle the wolf whined with contentment..
"Poor creature," Uhura said, her heart going out to the beast. He had been sorely treated and had watched too many of his kindred tortured and killed by an only too familiar enemy. She trembled as she recalled their own battle against the demons but one flash of memory overcame the horror. Spock, long hair flying, astride the unicorn, wielding a deadly Vulcan weapon. A sight to gladden the heart!
McCoy sat back on his heels. "I can't do any more. The wound is clean now. Maybe the water will help him too. I don't know. If not, nature will have to take its course. Dammit I'm a doctor not a veterinarian."
"He's grateful, Doctor," Uhura said. "He wishes to guide us in repayment for your help. He knows where the forest hag can be found. I think we should accept his offer."
"Accept? Uhura, it'll take us even farther away from the others."
"I know," Uhura believed in the fate which had brought them to Arigol. Maybe it was the romantic in her but to be destined to help save a land and its peoples was a task that appealed to her. She thought of her two commanding officers as heroes in the truest tradition and to be one of their team with her own particular part to play was a challenge and an honour which she did not want to deny herself. "Doctor, you must know we'll all be united at the proper time. We've been given tasks. If we fail, then all of Arigol will be overrun by evil forces."
McCoy chewed at his lip. "It's hard for an old sceptic like me to believe all this, Nyota. I'm doin' my best and I know, I really do know that you're right but... "
Uhura patted his shoulder. McCoy was the most pragmatic of men; unlike the others there was little of the dreamer in him. Kirk would rescue damsels and fight against injustice, like the legendary prince which he certainly looked with his long hair, gold jewellery and silken clothing. Spock had taken to their new situation like a duck to water. Uhura had always suspected that underneath that cool Vulcan exterior lurked not only a passionate nature but a genuinely noble person who would help anyone in distress. Sulu was living his dream of being a swashbuckler; Christine loved to read historical and fantasy fiction and would be perfectly at home in Arigol; Pavel was so steeped in Russian folk literature that he too would fit in here.
Lorc spoke to her and she passed on his thanks to McCoy. Nervously, the Doctor smiled down at the wolf and with slight hesitation reached out to pat its thin head. The animal woofed softly and McCoy laughed, stroked the muzzle and seemed to relax. "I guess we've made ourselves a friend, Nyota."
Guided by the wolf, they left the wood and once again stood on the Eastern Way. They travelled, sometimes hiding in damaged huts, under the protection of a large wayside tree, or behind an embankment as troops marched by. The wolf always sensed the enemy and Uhura and McCoy soon learned to follow when he urged them from the road. Five days later they reached the edge of a dark forest but Lorc did not hesitate and plunged into its leafy depths. They hurried after him and soon were walking along narrow tracks where little light was able to penetrate. The animals and birds they encountered listened to Uhura, acknowledging her as the Queen of the Prophecy, telling her of their own sufferings and promising their assistance in the fight for freedom.
The forest was not free of Evil's forces but with an army of feathered scouts on their side, Uhura and McCoy were able to travel without fear, resting easily at night secure in the knowledge that they were guarded by the forest creatures. By the end of the first week they reached the top of a wooded hill and looked down into a lush valley where a small house stood surrounded by a large garden filled with colourful plants. A stream meandering along the valley completed the idyllic scene.
A young woman left the house. She was stunningly beautiful with long golden hair which hung past her waist. She wore a garland of flowers around her forehead, a simple green dress and was barefooted. The woman sang as she tended her garden, her voice as melodious as any Uhura had ever heard.
McCoy frowned as he saw her. "She's the farthest thing from a hag I've ever seen."
The wolf spoke to Uhura. "I can go no further. I will wait here and guide you back."
"Why can't you come with us?" Uhura was puzzled for Lorc had faithfully remained with them all this time.
"I cannot. The witch's power could enslave me."
Uhura could draw nothing more from him and after telling McCoy added, "Maybe she can enslave us too."
McCoy shrugged. "Well, if we're to believe the prophecy, I need to get the healing herbs. I don't know what they look like so what else can we do but go down and speak to the lady."
"Logical," Uhura commented then realising what she had said, bit her lip as the worry about Spock and the others filled her mind.
"Indeed," McCoy said with a twinkle in his eye.
Uhura grinned and relaxed.
The woman looked up as they approached her. McCoy almost gasped aloud as her piercing grey eyes met his. Her luscious figure was accentuated by the folds of the clinging material of her dress and her silky hair moved gently in the breeze.
"I am Modwenna of the Valley," she said "Welcome to my home."
Her voice was soft and husky and McCoy was entranced by her. "Ma'am, I'm Leonard McCoy and this is Nyota Uhura."
Uhura took an instant dislike to the woman. There was something about her that she could not pinpoint but her scalp was prickling. "Lady, we have travelled far to meet you," she said. "There are herbs needed by Dr. McCoy, the Healer, which I believe you might have."
"I have many herbs in my garden," Modwenna said, her sharp glance appraising Uhura.
An inner voice warned Uhura to be cautious. "It is a lovely garden," she commented.
The woman smiled, her golden beauty almost blinding. "Forgive me, I am remiss in my hospitality. Pray come inside and partake of food and wine."
"Thank you ma'am," McCoy replied. "You're very kind."
They followed her into the house. Large windows filled the interior with sunshine. Cut flowers in delicately wrought vases, plants in clay pots, and dried herbs in baskets decorated every available space. The scents were intoxicating. A large black cat curled up on a sunny windowsill lifted its head, stared at them and miaowed.
Modwenna stroked its sleek head. "These are visitors, Idris, my darling." The cat purred loudly and closed bright green eyes as his mistress scratched his ears.
"It's a lovely animal, ma'am," McCoy said. "My daughter's fond of cats."
"Indeed! Is she then a witch?" Modwenna asked.
McCoy exchanged a puzzled glance with Uhura then replied, "Um, no, she's training to be a doctor, a healer like me."
"Ah, a noble profession but, I fear, a doomed one in these times."
"Please explain?" Uhura's suspicions had not been allayed. Modwenna could be a servant of Medrikhor and had more or less confessed that she was a witch. The wolf had described her as such. Old legends of witches and their familiars came to mind.
"The priestess-healers are gone and their powers have been absorbed by the Dark King. In all of Arigol, only a few with the Gift remain." The wide eyes scrutinised McCoy. "Many healers have come to buy my unguents and potions. Some call me wise-woman. Others name me witch. I am both and neither. I am Modwenna of the Valley, a simple herb-grower. I know of all the healers of the land, but you are a stranger to me. Who are you and this lady? There is something different about you both."
Hoofbeats pounded outside. Modwenna twisted around and glanced out of a nearby window. Uhura and McCoy followed her gaze and gaped at the magnificent white stag which stood outside. Its eyes were the deepest blue Uhura had ever seen and shone with intelligence and mute pleading.
"Begone beast," Modwenna ordered. The stag ignored her, walked forward, and thrust its sharply pointed antlers through the open window. Startled she retreated into the room.
"What does he want?" Uhura asked.
"It is a wild creature who lives in the valley. It will not harm us," Modwenna assured.
"I want a closer look at him," Uhura said. She remembered the rhyme and wondered what part the stag would play in their quest.
"Be careful, Nyota," McCoy warned, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Uhura nodded and went over to the window. The stag had moved and now grazed a short distance away in a meadow beyond the garden. She watched it for a time, noting that although the body was not thin, and its coat shone with health somehow the animal appeared unhappy. Was she guilty of anthropomorphising this animal? It was a common trait amongst human beings
"Would you care for wine?" Modwenna asked.
Uhura turned. "Thank you, maybe later. I'd like to see the stag first."
The woman smiled. "It is a powerful beast. Take care, lady."
"Nyota," McCoy began, a worried expression on his face.
"I'll be all right, Doctor," Uhura replied.
She left the house and approached the stag. The proud head lifted and those disconcerting blue eyes met hers. She reached out a hand. "Are you the warrior stag, I wonder? Why does the term 'warrior' apply to an animal? It's odd." The beast's eyes changed. There was an astonished expression in them. "Can you understand me?" Uhura continued. "The Arch-Mage Ayrond brought me and my companions through the void. My Gift is to understand all animals."
The animal snorted softly, pawed the ground and released an uncannily human cry. "Lady, thanks be to the goddess. The prophecy is true. I am Gwilym, Prince of Arbara. Many years ago I didst displease the hag, Modwenna, by refusing her advances and she didst ensorcell me. I beg thee, lady, help me return to mine own form. Then wilt I assist thee."
Uhura started back in alarm. "You're a human!"
"Yes, my lady." The stag bowed its head. "I beg thee protect thy companion. Modwenna canst rule all men by her power."
"A regular little Circe isn't she," Uhura commented, remembering a Greek myth once read. She laughed. "I'd like to see her try her wiles on Mr Spock! Well she's not going to turn Doctor McCoy into an animal. Thank you, Gwilym. I promise to aid you once Modwenna is under control and we find the healing herbs we need."
"She doth keep them hidden for they art more precious than gold," the stag answered. "They are within an enchanted bower. None but she may enter."
"How do you know?" Uhura asked. "Have you seen them?"
"Yes I was hurt unto death when she didst find me. She didst cure me by brewing a potion of dried herbs."
Uhura stroked the animal's firm neck. "Thank you, Gwilym."
She returned to the house where an eerie silence had settled in its bright rooms. She searched everywhere but there was no sign of McCoy, Modwenna or the cat. Uhura resisted her fear and forced herself to review the situation. There was no way they could have left without her seeing them so some kind of witchcraft was at work. But how was she to penetrate it? What power did she have to combat it?
Uhura thought of the rhyme and her marvellous ability to communicate with animals. That was it! Would Modwenna be able to resist an assault on her house by every creature within hearing radius? Determinedly, Uhura went outside, sat down in the meadow and began to sing. Before long all manner of creatures were ranged around her. Birds of prey, foxes, squirrels, rats, snakes and wildcats sat peacefully with natural enemies, entranced by Uhura's song, and all pledged their allegiance to her.
Satisfied, Uhura stood up and faced the house. "Modwenna, show yourself. Return the Healer or I will set these animals loose upon you."
There was no answer so Uhura ordered her strange army forward. They scampered into the house, destroying everything in their path. The stag stayed outside, butting his lethal antlers against the thin walls, tearing great holes into the wood, shaking the cottage with each assault.
Harsh screams sounded above the noise of the animals. Uhura smiled grimly, walked inside and, ignoring the destruction, headed for the source of the cries. It was a room she had not seen before, perhaps the hidden bower Gwilym had mentioned. An old woman lay huddled upon the floor, surrounded by the hissing, spitting invaders. She looked up and Uhura noted with shock that the ancient white-haired crone wore the same dress as the beautiful Modwenna. It hung on her emaciated frame like a sack.
On a narrow stone slab in a corner, McCoy lay unconscious. Stout ropes bound his limbs and crouched near him, its long tongue reaching out to lick the sweat from the human's brow, was the cat. As it looked up at Uhura, its green eyes grew large, the colour increasing in intensity until they shone like jade.
Idris! Uhura shuddered. So the cat is a familiar.
There was a visual distortion and where the cat had been, squatted a shrunken grey demon with small red horns on its forehead and a two-pronged tail jutting from its foul smelling body. With a blood-curdling shriek it sunk pincerlike claws into McCoy's vulnerable neck.
Uhura stood frozen with horror as it's forked tongue licked up the drops of blood. The demon stared up at her with malevolence in its red eyes and licked its lipless mouth.
Uhura bit her lip and forced her shock aside to speak to the crone. "So this is how you really look, Modwenna. Your magic has its limits. You couldn't maintain your illusion of beauty."
The hag raised her gnarled hand. "You'll never have the herbs. Never."
Uhura laughed. "Don't threaten me, hag. I am the Queen of Prophecy. It is written that I command the animals of Arigol. At my bidding they'll tear you apart unless you call off your familiar and give us the herbs."
The hag cowered in fright. "Spare me," she moaned. "I'm a poor old woman with little left to me but my flowers and herbs. I beg you do not kill me."
While McCoy was still threatened Uhura could feel no pity for the pathetic old witch. "I won't hesitate to destroy you. Do as I tell you. Call off your pet." She watched the demon warily as she continued, "You're a fool, Modwenna. All the land will be ravaged by Medrikhor's hordes. Do you think they'll leave you alone? You're no use to them alive; they'll kill you. Throw your lot in with us. Use whatever power you have for the good of Arigol. Release the warrior stag and my friend. Give us the herbs so that the prophecy may be fulfilled."
The faded greyish-green eyes peered shortsightedly up at Uhura. "You promise you'll not let the animals kill me?"
"I promise," Uhura said. "If you do as I command."
The witch's head drooped in defeat. "Very well, Queen of Beasts. I obey." She muttered something unintelligible and the demon jumped away from the human's body. In mid leap it, once again, became a black cat.
Uhura released McCoy from his bonds, chafed his wrists and anxiously studied his calm features. Reassured about his wellbeing she dismissed the animals and watched as the witch tottered to her feet, and recited another incantation. McCoy yawned loudly, rubbed his eyes and sat up mumbling, "Where the hell am I?"
Uhura sighed with relief. "You're safe, Doctor." She noted that the hag was now growing younger with each passing moment. By the time McCoy looked up Modwenna was the stunning beauty they had first encountered.
"You were tired, Healer," Modwenna simpered. "Now you are rested I will give you the herbs you came for."
"Why that's real nice of you, ma'am," McCoy said, with an appreciative smile. He absently rubbed at his neck.
Uhura coughed discreetly. Modwenna blinked, hesitated a second, then opened a metal chest which lay at the foot of the bed. She took out a tiny wooden box, stroked the intricate carvings on the lid then held it out. McCoy accepted the casket, opened it and showed the contents to Uhura. Within lay fragrant, dried herbs of brown, red and orange.
"The magic herbs," Modwenna said. "Use them wisely for they can never be replaced. Make a brew using five pinches of the herbs, no more, no less. The patient must sip it whilst still hot or else its power shall be insufficient to cure the deepest ills."
"How can someone regrow their tongue using herbal remedies," McCoy scoffed. "It takes modern regen treatment for that kind of injury."
"Magic can do anything," Modwenna said.
"Even return Gwilym to his true body?" Uhura asked.
Modwenna flushed. "Yes, it will. Does he wish to leave? I shall miss him for he has been living in my valley for four hundred years."
"What!" Uhura exclaimed in shock.
"I fell in love with him but he did not return my affection." The witch sighed. "Alas he angered me and I vowed he would remain here as an animal, subject to my whims."
"You will release him," Uhura said. "He has pledged me his help."
Modwenna bowed in submission. "Very well, lady."
She led the way outside, Uhura and McCoy following her to where the stag awaited them, its human-like eyes glowing with hope. The witch murmured a spell. There was a flash of lightning, a stirring of the air, and in place of the magnificent animal there stood before them one of the handsomest men Uhura had ever seen. His prominent cheekbones, chiselled jaw and bronzed skin were features that any vid-star would envy. His tall muscular body was clothed in a vivid blue waistcoat and knee-length breeches of a silken material; a silver torque clasped his neck and a matching ring encircled the index finger of his right hand. His feet were shod in soft grey boots.
Modwenna sighed and stared into his startling blue eyes. "You are free, prince. Do not think too harshly of me for I was driven by love for you."
Gwilym did not spare her a glance. He bowed before Uhura and lifted her hand to kiss. "Lady Queen, I am thy servant. Pray lead me from this place."
Uhura was glad her skin did not show the flush that spread over her whole body. She swallowed, pulled her hand away from his sensual lips and said," You're welcome, Gwilym. However, I believe there is much you need to know before we leave here."
"As you desire, my queen," the young man said, shaking his long dark hair back.
McCoy chuckled and drew her aside. "You got an admirer there, Nyota."
"He's just grateful," she replied defensively.
"Maybe. Well, I think I'll get better acquainted with the lovely Modwenna while you brief the prince."
Uhura grabbed at his arm. "Oh no you don't, Doctor. She's not exactly what she seems. I think you should stay right here where I can keep an eye on you."
McCoy raised an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Spock. Uhura sighed knowing she would have to tell him the truth about the 'beautiful' Modwenna.
The doctor listened in horrified fascination. He had been unaware of his entrapment and gave thanks for Uhura's resourcefulness in rescuing him. He eyed the witch, scarcely able to believe her true appearance, and warily looked at the black cat innocently sunning itself on the doorstep. He rubbed at the stinging wounds on his neck. He was only too ready to leave this place.
After so long under Modwenna's enchantment Gwilym was desperate for news. McCoy and Uhura tried to brief him on the current situation but their knowledge of Arigol was sketchy. Gwilym shrugged his shock away and jauntily followed them out of the valley as Modwenna, stroking the cat in her arms, watched their departure.
A dark form slunk out of the shadows of the close-growing trees to greet them. Gwilym swiftly placed his body in front of Uhura's. "I will protect thee, my lady."
Uhura smiled knowingly at McCoy before tapping the broad shoulders of her would-be champion and saying, "The wolf is our friend and guide. Remember I can talk to all the beasts of land and air."
The young man flushed slightly, bowed courteously and stood back. McCoy sympathised with him. Nyota was a perfectly competent officer, quite able to look after herself, but every man who came into contact with her could not help but feel protective towards her. Perhaps her diminutive stature had something to do with it, or those liquid brown eyes. McCoy knew that even Spock held a soft spot for Uhura, although the Vulcan would never have admitted it.
Uhura knelt and stroked Lorc's forehead. She talked with him for a few minutes before turning to McCoy. "He has seen Medrikhor's forces. They are out looking for us. Lorc will guide us back to the wood but fears it'll take longer than it did to get here. We'll have to avoid the enemy."
"Damn," McCoy muttered. Still there was no alternative. They had no option but to return to the hidden glade.
They travelled through the deepest parts of the forest, resting by dark and travelling every available daylight hour. McCoy had never been fitter. The long walks were healthy exercise but they were marred by the times spent hiding from the demonic troops who searched for them. Despite the danger, Gwilym could scarcely take his eyes from Uhura. He courted her in a gentlemanly fashion. His quaint speech pattern, courtesy and exceptional masculine beauty were so unusual that Uhura could not help but be charmed by him.
McCoy drew her aside, one evening, as Gwilym left to answer nature's call. "He's fallen in love with you."
"I know." Uhura smiled sadly. "I do like him but we can never be together. After this is over I want to return home and he has no place there."
McCoy nodded. He need not have been concerned that she might want stay here. She was too career-orientated, a sophisticated woman of the 23rd century, and would never be fully happy in this fantasy land.
Time passed. The prince did not return and, concerned now, Uhura sent the wolf to search for him. Minutes later Lorc bounded back and reported that Gwilym was not in the immediate vicinity. Worriedly McCoy and Uhura followed as their guide tracked the prince, caught a scent and sped into the darkness until he reached a gnarled oak tree. Lorc sniffed around then howled.
"What does he say?" McCoy asked.
"He smells evil. Gwilym has been abducted." Uhura wiped tears from her eyes. "We must find him."
McCoy gripped her shoulders. "Listen, Nyota. Much as I'd like to find Gwilym, I think we must leave. If this prophecy thing is goin' to work we need to get the herbs to Emrys."
Uhura's eyes widened and both she and McCoy spoke at once. "The herbs!"
McCoy swore softly as the wolf led them back. If this had all been a diversion to steal the herbs then they were back to square one. On entering their abandoned camp McCoy's saw his fears were fully realised. Blankets, food and water bottles lay scattered around but of the small herb container there was no sign.
Uhura clasped her hands together. "No," she whispered in an anguished voice.
***
Guardian of the Sword
Sulu called out to his companions until he was hoarse and his throat was raw. Dejected he slumped to the ground and tried to assess his situation. The mist swirled eerily about him and he groaned softly with frustration and fear. Somehow he had lost his companions in this blanket of fog. He held his hand out in front of him and could barely distinguish its outline.
He coughed helplessly as he breathed in the noxious vapour, collapsing as his body was racked by violent spasms. He gasped for breath, his hands clawing around him at the hard surface, until his fingers brushed against a container. Sulu grasped it, pulled it close and with shock recognised the familiar shape of a water bottle. He opened it. Yes it's full! Gratefully he took a swig of the delicious, soothing liquid.
Sulu did not question his find. He gave thanks for his good fortune and waited patiently until the mist thinned and he was able to recognise features of the land; trees, a rock, a pathway. Against a nearby oak lay his backpack. The realisation that sorcery must have caused the mist, and the separation from his companions sent a frisson of fear up and down his spine.
"Damn," he muttered as he picked up the backpack and checked its contents. It was his all right for there was food, blankets and the old map. He glanced around but did not recognise his location. Well all woods look the same to me, he told himself.
His first priority was to find the others. Yet how am I to do that? The helmsman scratched at his head. This is the craziest place I've ever been.
His glance fell on his scabbard. He smiled, lifted out the fine sword and practised a few skilful lunges. He would be prepared for any attack during his search for the others. Sulu was the Enterprise's champion fencer and would not hesitate to use his abilities to thwart any evil.
He walked for hours until he reached the end of the trees. Checking his map he soon found where he was. In the distance, across flower-strewn meadows he could see sunlight glinting off a body of water. It was a peaceful scene but Sulu knew that there would be little protection if he crossed open countryside. Yet, the lake seemed to call him.
He shook his head. Surely he should stay in the wood and try to find his friends. Yet Ayrond had mentioned the lake, to the south of the wood, which bordered on Elvenhome. Perhaps the others would travel there. He recalled a part of the prophecy : The Dashing One must gain a sword, from neither god nor man. It had intrigued him for he already had an excellent sword. At the time Sulu had noticed the mage's gaze upon him; the old man knew much more than he was telling.
Decision made, Sulu adjusted his backpack, gripped his sword belt and strode towards the lake. The sun shone brightly overhead and knowing he could not afford to become dehydrated, Sulu regularly stopped to take sips from the never-ending water. After a time he spied a footpath and headed toward it. Much as walking through flowering fields was pleasant, the pollen was causing his nose and eyes to stream. Finally, he reached the narrow way and stood listening to the whispering of the wind, the calling of birds and the rustling of tiny animals. Satisfied there was no danger he continued on his journey.
The lake was vast, more like an inland sea. Sulu made his way to the bank, sat down, removed his dusty boots, and dangled his tired feet in the cool water. The breeze ruffled his hair and he untied the thong which bound it and shook his head. The weight disconcerted him and for a moment he wished for his normal short, neat style. He breathed in the pure air. It was peaceful here and he was tempted to settle down and sleep but his worry and duty kept him alert as he tried to work out his next move.
As he sat, rejecting plan after plan, there was a disturbance in the water. He sprang to his feet and drew his sword, ready for whatever monster might emerge. Moments later a vision of loveliness arose from the lake in a surge of glistening water. Sulu had never seen anyone like the naked black-haired nymph who stood smiling at him with tempting red lips. She waded towards him. He retreated, the hair on the back of his neck tingling. The naiad was unhuman, fey like some creature out of legend. Which she is! Sulu reminded himself.
"Swordsman, I am Tegan, Lady of this lake." Her voice sounded like the ripple of water over a pebbled shore.
Sulu was captivated. "Um, my name is Hikaru. I'm searching for my friends. Have you seen any other humans? Two men and two women."
"You are the first human I have seen in many months, Lord Hikaru. And, if I may be so bold, the handsomest in many a long year." Her eyes openly appraised him.
Sulu coughed. "Thank you, Tegan. I eh, must be going. Have to continue my search. Good day."
He picked up his boots and socks and began to walk along the lakeside. Tegan waded through the water, keeping pace with him. Sulu now noted that her hair hung to her knees and had strands of pearls and rubies twined through its thick strands. Although he tried to ignore her, he found it almost impossible as she flirted with laughing eyes, warm smiles, and provocative swaying of her body.
"The boat lies tied to the quay," Tegan said suddenly.
"W... What!" Sulu stammered. He looked in the direction Tegan was pointing and saw a small wooden wharf close by with a rowing boat tied to a post. He should have noticed it before but his attention had been caught up by his companion.
"Your boat awaits you, my lord. Your fate lies across the water. Beware the Guardian of the Sword. Beware trickery."
"What do you mean, Tegan? Why should I go on that boat?"
"It is your destiny, Dashing One. For many centuries I have awaited your arrival. Only with the magic sword, Demonstalker, can you destroy the Drinker of Blood."
"The Drinker of Blood. But that was part of Chekov's rhyme," Sulu exclaimed. He was unable to resist a grin as he recalled Chekov's reaction over the possibility of meeting a vampire. His young friend was an enigma, brave and resourceful, but often superstitious and fearful.
"All are connected. You will find your friends once you have fulfilled your part of the prophecy. Step into the boat. I will guide you to the island."
Sulu hesitated. Should he trust her? How did she know so much about the prophecy? She smiled engagingly before diving into deeper water and swimming towards the jetty, her jet black hair streaming behind her. There seemed no evil in her, just a certain playfulness and an interest in him as a man. He swallowed. There was no time for dallying with beautiful water goddesses. Maybe later, he promised himself.
He pulled on his socks and boots and boarded the boat. Tegan untied the rope. As Sulu pushed the craft away from the quay and began to row, she lifted herself up beside him and draped her graceful body across the prow. Sulu tried to keep his attention on the awkward task of rowing but found it decidedly difficult. The island was several kilometres out and, unused to the strenuous activity, Sulu soon grew tired. Tegan laughed, raised her arms in the air and a strong breeze almost lifted the boat from the water and sped them along.
"Did you do that?" Sulu asked as he attempted to keep his wildly blowing hair from blinding him.
"Of course. I command not only the water but the elements which affect it." She moved closed to him. "Permit me to braid your hair, Lord Hikaru. It will be safer for you during the combat."
"How do you know about the prophecy? What combat?" Sulu asked as she slid behind him and began to untangle his hair. The touch of her hands sent a warm tingle through his body and he fought to control it.
"There are secret texts hidden deep within the pool of knowledge. My sister has shown them to me. They foretell your arrival here. I too have my part to play."
The pool of knowledge, Sulu mused. Could that be where the Captain and Mr Spock are? "Is the pool in the harper's glade?"
She giggled, not answering his question, as she finished braiding his hair and tied it with one of the jewelled bands from her own dark locks. "You are now under my protection. Do not lose the talisman I have placed upon you."
He smiled and watched mesmerised as her ruby red lips reached for his. Her kiss made him forget everything and everyone. All he could sense, feel, smell, was the woman in his arms. Moments later she was gone and the boat lay docked on a rocky beach. Disorientated and confused Sulu staggered out and slumped onto the ground. He looked around to see a path leading up the gentle slope of a hill.
It was not a difficult climb but drained from the strange events which had befallen him, Sulu was out of breath by the time he reached the top. He rested for a few minutes before continuing down a grassy slope into a secluded valley. He followed a trickling stream until rounding a bend, stopped short as he saw a bleak stone castle looming up ahead. It was like something out of a Grimms tale, a foreboding edifice belonging to some wicked king.
Sulu wiped the sweat from his forehead, dismissed such silliness from his mind, and walked on. The silence alerted him immediately. Had the evil forces reached this remote place? Beware the Guardian of the Sword. Tegan's warning reverberated in his mind. Well he would be very careful of whatever that referred to. With a deep breath he strode across a wooden drawbridge into a pebbled courtyard.
At the far end stood an open door. Easing his sword from its scabbard Sulu entered a dark hallway. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness he saw a spiral staircase. Slowly he climbed to a landing where three doors lay invitingly open. Above each, upon the lintel, were carved letters.
Sulu read the one to his left. Enter here the one who fears.
He studied the centre doorway. Enter here the one who steers.
He shook his head and turned to the third lintel. Enter here the one who hears.
He hesitated and thought carefully about the messages. I certainly don't hear anything although I am afraid. But this is some coincidence because as a helmsman I steer the ship. It was certainly a test of some kind and if he chose wrongly he might end up either dead or imprisoned without meeting the Guardian at all. He lifted his water bottle from the pack and took a deep gulp. It cleared his head and, mind made up, he walked through the centre doorway.
He was in a softly lit chamber. A fire burned in the hearth and brightly coloured cushions lay scattered about the floor. A table covered with a bewildering variety of food stood against the far wall. Sulu licked his lips as he suddenly realised how hungry he was.
"Greetings," a soft female voice said.
Sulu jumped. He spun round, his sword pointed towards the speaker. His eyes widened on seeing the tall woman who stood there. Her eyes were almost hypnotic as they gazed into his and her auburn hair, glowing in the firelight, was highlighted with burnished brown and gold. She smiled and her pearly teeth shone. Sulu tore his gaze away and a chill swept through him as he noted her chain-mail armour, scabbard and sword.
No, it has to be wrong. I can't fight her. I can't fight a woman.
The woman slid a silver blade, with a glistening emerald set into the pommel, from its rune decorated scabbard. She held it with a two handed grip and crouched in a stance which showed her to be no amateur at swordplay. Sulu dropped his backpack to the floor, knowing that whether he wanted it or not there was going to be a fight. The swordswoman smiled speculatively as they circled. Her lithe movements indicated a fitness which was highly dangerous to the physically and emotionally debilitated Sulu. Yet he knew that this was a battle he must win if he was ever to see his comrades again.
Her girlish laughter, so incongruous in the swordswoman before him, almost caused him to lower his blade. She lunged and only his trained reflexes saved him from serious injury. Very soon he discovered that her strength was abnormal. Sulu could fence with the best but this woman, if she really was what she appeared, had muscle power and a dexterity close to vulcanoid level. He had once had a match with Spock and, despite inexperience with the sport, the Vulcan had won. Sulu tried not to despair as her blade nicked him in several places. He retreated knowing she was toying with him.
"Be not afraid, little man," she goaded. "Try to kill Rannilt, Guardian of the Sword. What a boring duel this is." Her sword sliced through the ruby band holding his braid and the jewels blazed as they touched the blade, before scattering onto the ground. Crimson fire snaked along the silver surface onto the woman's hand. She shrieked with pain and seizing his chance, Sulu attacked. All his former doubts were discarded. He could not look on her as a woman but as a deadly enemy who fully intended to kill him. With one final effort he broke past her guard and plunged the sword into her chest.
She screamed once and dropped her weapon. Her eyes grew impossibly wide with a pain that cut through Sulu's heart. Her face went white with shock and her hands grasped his shoulders in a death grip. What have I done! he cried inside. Oh god, what have I done?
The body before him rippled. Sulu blinked the tears from his eyes and with all of his remaining strength tried to pull the sword from its still living sheath. The pressure on his shoulders increased, the hands growing larger and reaching for his throat. To his horror, he saw that they were long, hairy with sharp pointed nails. He shuddered. Gone was the stunningly beautiful woman. In her place was a grotesque hair-covered figure with one blazing red eye in the centre of its forehead, canine teeth hanging over a lipless mouth, and a hole in the middle of its face which exuded a foul odour.
Terror gave Sulu the strength he needed. As he pulled away his sword broke and he collapsed onto the floor holding a hilt with barely ten centimetres of blade remaining. His wounded opponent screeched in agony, and blindly staggered around the room. Sulu scrambled away, his hand reaching out for the other's forgotten sword. As his fingers closed around the hilt, a revitalising energy surged through him. He crouched against the wall and cautiously watched as Rannilt stumbled from the chamber. He took a deep breath and, as he picked up his backpack, heard a bloodcurdling scream which set his heart racing. He discarded the broken sword, gathered as many of the scattered rubies as he could find and cautiously made his way out of the room. Scanning the floor of the landing, he saw a trail of black blood leading to the left hand door. Swallowing the lump which had formed in his throat, he ran down the stairs and into the courtyard.
Once outside the castle, he sheathed Rannilt's sword and taking in large gulps of fresh air, headed for the lake-shore as fast as his exhausted legs could carry him. The sight of Tegan calmly sitting by the boat brought a smile of delight to his face. She ran into his arms and as a pleasant lethargy overcame him, he sank into her embrace.