The Mask of King Arthur, Book I: Haern Cleddyf

Chapter three: Cat's Eye

The Isle of Anglesey, six months after the final defeat of Hengist, Vortigern, and Rowena.

It was a total disaster.

As the quartet of horseback riders arrived in the town of Aberffraw, only to find it shambles. The small coastal town looked like it had been hit by a massive storm; Smashed houses, broken doors, and a badly torn up marketplace, with produce and merchant's goods scatted everywhere. Down by the shore, overturned boats had been smashed, their wood scattered across the coastline like debris. The four riders stopped, looking around at the devastated landscape.

"By the blessed Virgin... this place looks terrible," Arthur noted, looking around at all of the damage. "It is a good thing we answered Aberffraw's cry for help, so we may give aid, and slay the terrible beast which plagues this village."

"Aye, I have always the Isle of Anglesey, ever since I arrived in Britannia." Osla Big-Knife noted, as he climbed down from his horse. "I have heard the fishing on the island is good, and I have heard it's the best place to get a roasted herring, and a tankard of ale."

"The name of this island is Ynys Môn, Saxon." Nimune corrected him, sliding off of her steed, and walking over to survey the damage. "This was once a sacred place to we Britons, a gathering place for our druids." She closed her eyes. "Until the day the Roman legions attacked the sacred groves, and butchered most of the priests of the old faith here. Only a few Druids of Britannia survived, and their numbers have dwindled more and more each generation." She scowled angrily. "Only a few, like that fool Menw, have survived to this day."

"Och, Nimune... Don't be olagonin' about the old days so much." Erdudfyl sighed, rolling her eyes. "Let's just concentrate on takin' down the monster who left this town in tatters."

As the four riders were surveying the damage, a young clergyman came out of the nearby church. His beard was just beginning was just showing the earliest specks of gray, and his face carried a troubled look, that reflected the current state of the village.

"Ah, Duke Arthur! Thank our heavenly Savior that you have arrived!" The clergyman rushed forward, clasping the helmeted Warrior's hand. "I am Father Bidwini, and our village has been under attack by a monstrous and terrible cat!"

"A...cat?" Olsa asked in disbelief, trying to keep his temper down. "You called us here all the way from Caerleon to deal with a clawing, hairball spewing cat?!"

"Och, don't be so hasty, Olsa! I don't think they would summon us to deal with a wee kitty!" Erdudfyl gestured around at the large bite and claw marks in the wood and stone. "This is probably a lion or tiger, like the ones my brother and I saw in a menagerie during our visit to Rome as children."

"No, you wouldn't find such creatures this far north," Nimue noted, running her fingers along one of the cat scratches. "This is the mark of Cath Palug, a large faerie cat from the otherworld. He must have come through the nearby stone circle of Din Dryfol, there is a portal to the otherworld within the stones"

"The otherworld? That beast the beast is magical; which means it is dangerous." Arthur drew his obsidian sword from its sheath. "My blade is made from star-iron, and all creatures from, the otherworld are weak to that gleaming metal."

"They are weak to regular iron, as well." Olsa declared, drawing out his seax knife. "And and I have a blade I am most proficient with."

"And I, too, can strike at this monstrous kitty." Erdudfyl declared, pulling an arrow from her quiver. "I have a dozen iron-tipped arrows, to protect myself from inhabitants of the otherworld."