All Hallow's Eve 2: Memories

Chapter 3

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Mac leads the three children through a small hallway to another doorway.
"No need for your flashlights. Here." He said and lit a candle.
The two torches went dark and the flickering candlelight changed the appearance of the house immensely. Objects jumped out at them as the draughty house manipulated the flame.

AN: Before you ask, I know, 3 kids going into a virtual stranger's house! It's just a story, my story, so back off!

They went through the next doorway and into a kitchen come-dinning room. Then followed the elderly man to another room. It was a sitting room and the cause of the glow in the front window from outside. A coal fire lived in the open heart. The children were glad of the extra light and welcomed the extra heat.
"Now," Mac said, "Sit by the fire. I have something to tell you."
His voice sounded different.

Three low backless stools were positioned in front of the fireplace, as if.... as if he was expecting company. Sean could barely contain his amusement as thoughts of a certain girl with golden hair and a certain three bears came to mind. Mac sat in an old armchair and the children took their seats facing him.
"Let's see now, where do I begin?"

"It all happened a long time ago," Mac paused and rubbed his face with both hands. He then joined them as if in prayer and touched his lips with both index fingers. Through his frown, he looked over at the three children, then slapped his thighs and continued, "A long time ago!"

"I wouldn't have been much older than young Mike when it all started." He leaned back in his chair.

*****

I remember it was a sunny afternoon, walking along a river bank. I forget its name, but I do remember it flowed into 'The Doolough,' the Black Lake. It was a large body of water, not black in colour, but was home to many dark secrets, legends, and monsters.

I was on my way to get my new long sword from the blacksmith. Aw, I had visions of glorious battles filling up my brain, and I couldn't wait to get my new weapon. Then all of a sudden I heard a heavenly voice singing in sweet harmony with the natural sounds of the running water and wildlife.

Looking around I couldn't find where it was coming from then I heard a plop. Like something being thrown into the water. I went over and looked down across the bank and there hunched over with her back to me was a young woman washing clothes. She was singing away happily with not a care in the world.

This was a regular occurrence in those days. People, usually women would wash clothes in the river and then throw them on large rocks or on the bank to dry in the sun while they finished. This particular part of the river was actually called 'The Wash Banks.'

She turned and threw her soaked material to the bank and it actually landed on my head covering my face.
"Oh, I am so sorry!" She apologised.
"Not to worry." I said, "Sure, couldn't I do with a good wash." And I pulled the garment off.

That was the first time I saw her face and her mine. There was a pause for a moment, which seemed longer than it was, as we looked into each other's eyes.

Picking up her brush she began brushing her long red hair, and at that moment I knew she'd be trouble. When I asked she told me her name was Niamh, then I told her mine. This was the start of my first and only romance, one that would last an eternity. It was love at first sight.

Anyway back to the story.

I eventually got my long sword and carried it with pride. rushing home I noticed Niamh was gone so I reassured myself that I would see her the next time I come by this way.

As soon as I got home I started practicing my sword fighting. I tied up my long blonde hair and tied a cloth strip around my head. An old tree near my home was soon to be chopped down for firewood, so attacked it developing my sword skills. Ah yes, I remember it now, my father yelled at me to stop wasting time and get that tree cut down.

So I went back to my 'cranóg' and got the axe from the stump it was wedged in. Checking the edge I thought, it was sharp enough, so I proceeded back to the tree. When I reached it I placed the axe on the ground and leaned it against my waist. I spat on both hands and rubbed them together. Picking up the axe I stood, legs apart, in front of the tree. Holding it firmly in position, I looked up at the top and there I saw it.

A dark shape flew high across the treetops. It had a long neck and an even longer tail.
"Oh shite," I told myself, "That's a fucking dragon!"
I ran back to tell my father. He stood there with black spiked hair, long down his back, and a long black moustache.
"How many heads had it?" He asked.
"What?"
"How many?"
"One of course," I replied.
"Good."

"What do you mean, how many heads?" I asked.
"Because...., wait, had it a long neck and tail?"
"Yes." I nodded.
"Aw, thank the Earth Goddess." He said, "It's probably just an 'Oillipéist!"
"An Oillipéist?"
"Aye, it lives in the water, easy enough to kill. But," he went on, "There's a three-headed 'Ellén Trechend,' it's a fire-breather and could destroy this whole place very easily."

When I went back outside I could see the dragon was far off in the distance and held no threat.
"Three heads?" I mulled it over in my mind, "Fire Breather!"
"I'm going to need a shield...., just in case." I said aloud, "Back to the blacksmith."
It would be dark before I got back, so I decided to wait until the next day.

That night I had terrible dreams about dragons, about Niamh, and it all engulfed in flames. I woke in a panic and a sweat. When I eventually got back to sleep it wasn't long before I was disturbed again. This time it was the crow of the rooster.
"Ah, time to start another day," I said as I sat up in my bed and stretched.

I left early enough, after a hearty breakfast, and got to the blacksmith about midday. There were a lot of shields to choose from.
"My son's not here today, so what are ya looking for?" An old man's voice invaded my concentration.

It was the original blacksmith. He had thinning grey hair that stood up from his head with a grey beard to match. His body eroded with time, beaten down by countless years of hard work. But still with broad shoulders and arms covered with scars and burns, and hardened biceps from a lifetime of hammering.

"I need a shield," I told him.
"A shield, ha? For what purpose?"
"To help me against a dragon. A fire-breathing dragon!"
The old man's eyes widened.
"Let me see. Hmm," He scratched his head, "I might have something out the back."
And just like that, he left. He was gone for a long time, so I thought he must have fallen asleep, or worse. Finally, he arrived back dragging a shield behind him.

"This might work for ya!" He handed me the shield.
It was oval and made from oak with a leather covering. There were three decorative bronze swirls spiraling out into three dragon heads.
"How will this protect me from a dragon? It's just wood and animal hide!"
"Oh it will, that's not just any animal skin. That's made from the inside of a dragon!"

On the way back with my new shield on my back, I met Niamh. She was going to The Wash Banks with another basket of clothes resting on her hip.
"Are you following me?" she smiled.
"I think I might need some clothes washed!" I replied.
So I accompanied her to her watery work area.

When we reached her destination my heart grew heavy. Niamh proceeded to place her basket in her usual spot and lost her footing. Quickly I grabbed her arm and saved her.
*"Go raibh maih agat." She said and kissed my cheek.
*"Go raibh mile maih agat!" I replied, my face beaming and my senses tingling.

But my senses were blinded to what was going on behind Niamh. The water became angry as it beat against the shore. Ripples disrupted the calm surface as a dark shadow moved beneath the water.

*Go raibh maih agat - Thank You

*Go raibh mile maih agat - You are welcome / A million thanks to you