We are finding it harder to hide but our followers are growing with speed hence imminent loss at the hands of our oppressors, but the odds are in our favor, pray to thee almighty Lir.
My dreams have pestered me of late, I keep seeing shadows follow me, I see the face of a wild beast just as I awaken.
'We haven't got enough people to fend them bastards off for long.'
I retort. 'Shutup, we still have access to the internet for now, you know we are gaining followers all over Wales.'
'That's good, lets try to meet with followers from all over the UK. They believe in our cause too, we can't keep hiding in West Glamorgan, we're almost trapped at Worms Head.'
'Fuck the UK, we are Welsh!' I was tiring of this man, known as the Wort because he worries too much.
'Wales is about inclusion not xenophobia. We need to head to where our biggest band of followers are, England.'
'Fuck England!'
Glynn piped up. 'We are amassing people, let them come to us!'
'You don't understand, they follow us online but are arrested if caught, we need to find them. Anonymity can only last so long.'
'I am Queen, they will come to us or not at all!'
Silence proceeded us thankfully.
After what had happened at the farm a number of days back a small handful of people were shook up including Wort. I had Glynn explain the bigger picture and everyone got back in line, but Wort was being cantankerous, he was in his fifties and thought he knew it all, dumb old bastard.
We had to be careful, we had taken over the Worms Head Hotel and those smart enough to join us still breathed.
But Wort was right, we had taken over our first Castle but we needed more than one fortress we needed the entirety of the British Isles and we were backed into a corner.
There were enough to stay and fight our cause as others moved on to find more land to conquer for us.
As evening drew in I heard a whisper of Wort talking against me and I had decided to confront him.
I was getting my Castle cleaned and wiped of corpses but what I had heard was disconcerting to say the least.
'Wort!' I found him talking to one of the men sweeping the dining room of blood, I wanted my Castle adorned in skulls and the medieval decorations of yore.
'Yes my Queen?'
'Is it true what I hear, that you are finding issues with my ways?'
'No it's not that, just I disagree with your slaughtering of innocents, you cannot tell me children who lie among our so called conquest deserved this, it's inhumane!'
From behind Glynn cracked him over the head with a vase, he dropped, groaning, holding his bloodied wound.
I grimaced at Glynn he knew what had to be done.
Many of our followers watched in horror at Glynn who proceeded to strip him naked then tied his wrists together then his knees.
'Please help me, do something someone!' Wort's fear was exhilarating to me.
Glynn pulled out a knife and sawed off his fingers then his toes.
Wort screamed and begged and writhed.
'Anyone tries to help is next, he is our sacrifice this year but if needed we can accommodate more.' I glared at everyone and they held their tongues, very wise.
Glynn poured broken glass over the floor and tying a rope around Wort's neck proceeded to drag him across the glass, the screams were irritating me.
Glynn saw my annoyance and jumped on Wort's back cracking his spine, continuing his jollities until Wort breathed his last.
Wort was hung outside on a tree, a warning to everyone.
In the morning I would make plans to send more followers forth, for now I had my Castle to see to.
It was night time and I had come outside on the roof to appreciate what I had done for myself.
I had achieved so much already, eventually when we had enough people I would be the new Queen of Britain, I could see it now.
A knife hugged Eirwen's throat slicing into it like cooked gammon, she reached for her throat and in shock tried to gurgle something about her dreams.
No this couldn't happen, not to her she thought, the Queen, the Legend to be, in history books to be remembered...
A hooded woman kicked Eirwen off the roof, her broken deformed body landing no more than a few yards from Wort who swung in the wind, a dead man's smile on his mutilated face.
"I am no badger." The warning of her shadow had not been heeded.
YOU ARE READING
The Garden of Lir
Historical FictionThe Ancient Land has been tainted, old rituals and archaic ways are flowing through it again, those too scared, too tired or too righteous will be lost in Lir's tide.
