Chapter 2

TO THE RESCUE, ST. JIMMY:

By the time the fire began, Angus had been scratching at a dented coin with a sharp pick for the better half of an hour. It wasn't his lucky coin, which had its special location in an undisclosed pouch on his person. This coin had no significance to it other than that it was pure gold, of which Angus was completely certain. Years of thrift and gallant pick pocketing gave him the experience; however, what he had lacked in all that time was basic common sense as his entire mind had either been corrupted by gold or, if the occasion called for it, women. As a result of this, he had been daft to notice stray logs were beginning to catch on flames but as soon as he felt the heat resonating too close to his leather pouch, he jumped, emitting a short yelp of surprise.

"Forgot to watch the fire again, Angus?" asked Rohan, a tall, ruggedly handsome man who seemed to resonate fire from within his own body.

"No," said a demur Angus as he attempted to bat out the hot ashes on his pouch. Sucking his burned finger, he picked up the dropped coin and resumed examining it with his naked eye. A chunk of his black hair fell over his eyes, though he seemed not deterred.

Rohan smiled, which made his entire frame expand to the width of his cheeks. This glowing effect had a rather profound entrapment for several maidens washing the laundry nearby. They giggled and talked foolishly of their infatuations. Rohan knew it was happening, though neither did he ignore it nor implore it. It was after all to be expected since he was a warrior. To the maidens, he was like a god; however, by his own right, he was only on a quest to search for the warrior Draganta. It was the kingdom that had turned him as well as his friends into illustrious beings to ever roam Tir Na Nog. Unfortunately, for some reason, the females tended to flock to him once the day started and though he did not wish to offend, he hoped that his friend Angus, a veteran thief by reputation but a knight by honor, would shoulder some of the attention every once in a while. He had, on occasion, "shouldered" a burden or two, sometimes at once, but Rohan had never doubted that Angus was saving himself for any one person in particular. That was just the way of the independent thief.

Angus, however, was too caught up in his current excursion of trinkets from some nether lands to comprehend all else happening around him, including the gawking maidens. It was a certain exception to Angus's otherwise determination to seek fame amongst the kingdom of Kells and attraction to some of the fairest maidens lining the hillside. This concerned Rohan and his smile faded. Oddly enough, the giggling diminished and all was quiet again. The fire burned steadily in its encasement on the ground and the village worked as usual. Rohan frowned, "What's that you got there? Another stolen treasure?"

Of course, Angus did not respond right away. He stared and stared at the markings made so delicately on the small coin but it did not seem to bring him any closer to discovery. "I just wish I could figure out what these…bloody symbols mean," he grumbled.

"It will take more than a fair share of looking at it to read what it says." Rohan picked up his gold ringlet chain mail and put it over his brown fur-lined vest. "Where did you find that anyway?"

Angus did not answer. Rohan prodded him. "Oh," he said, startled. "Yeah, I think it was from one of the traveling gypsies."

Rohan took a seat next to Angus on the tree log laid out across the ground in a seating fashion. "You do know what happened to Garrett after he had attempted to ambush the gypsy guards who were sleeping," he said with a concerned brow.

Angus shrugged and continued looking at the coin.

This only concerned Rohan even further. To admit to his thievery was one thing, thought Rohan, as it always came as an insult to Angus when anyone questioned his trustworthiness. However, rebuffing the chance to smother Prince Garrett in a torrent of jests and scoffs after he had given Angus clear ground to do so was enough to convince Rohan of something more than unusual in his friend's behavior.

Just then, however, Ivar, the wisdom-graced prince of the Moors, came to join them at their campground. As always, he carried a trident, as blue as the ocean, which also reflected the cloths he chose to wear, as a sign of his trademark calm with which he approached all situations. However, today, he seemed more inclined to be jovial and leaning upon his trident with his back straight, Ivar glared down upon Angus with the up most joy. "My, my, Angus, playing with our toys again I see. Care to put that trinket away and join the men for a change?"

When Angus did not respond straight away, Rohan sheepishly grinned and said, "I think it will take a lot more than attacking his ego to rouse him today."

Ivar nodded to himself. "Very well. As you like it, sir," he added with a fiery conviction. "I have the strangest feeling he will come to his senses as soon as he realizes what is in store for all of us today."

"Why? What has happened?" asked Rohan.

Ivar shrugged. "You can ask the king himself. He has been more than willing to answer all questions directed at him, especially those concerning the Queen of Temra and her steadily rising battlefronts."

"Oh," Rohan sighed. News of Temra's rising forces had already reached the kingdom of Kells days before but as much as it was a concern, Temra was not as a formidable foe for the five knights defending Kells. As far as the country was concerned, these knights were virtually unstoppable. But, despite himself, Rohan frowned. "Why? Who has been asking?"

"The villagers," said Ivar, sweeping his arm in one motion. "It seems the good show of bravado on the cattle herder a month ago has given these people a new spirit of courage."

Rohan blinked. "But was it not the herder who had blackmailed Conchobar in the first place?"

"Do you think the king would risk his crown by exposing his neck?" asked Ivar. He smiled briefly, patting Angus on the shoulder. "But not to worry. Queen Maeve will presumably throw another beast our way, in which case we will have to perform our civil duties and once again be in the good graces of every villager in the kingdom." Ivar shook his head, as his grim irony passed for cheap humor.

Grinning, Rohan said, "Someone put you in a good mood this morning. Who was it?"

However, Ivar shrugged. "I have no idea what you are talking about, my friend." He paused, glancing out at the horizon. "Well, now that I've delivered my message, I shall be on my way to see a man about a dog. Take care now."

As he left, Rohan looked after and shaking his head said, "That man is as strange as the place he hails from. Nice…but strange."

"I don't know," said Angus. "I understood him quite well."

Rohan cocked his head. "Oh yeah? You might," he muttered.

Angus nodded. "Yeah. With the new wave of Maeve's infantrymen coming in, the king's got a lot more on his royal plate than the absent-minded pressures of his people. There's a lot more in-depth stuff that I could get into but you would just feel stupid and then I would have to stop myself to laugh." He glanced at his friend.

Rohan's eyes were wide. "Have I changed worlds? Ivar's as jovial as a jester and you're as philosophical as…well, Ivar." Rohan caught himself and frowned. "Hey, wait a minute. This is Maeve's doing, isn't it?"

Angus shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Hm. Funny, though, isn't it?"

Before Rohan could agree or nod his head, there was a loud scream and a herd of cattle ran through the village, obviously very spooked. Both he and Angus shot up and glanced at each other. "Which way did Ivar say he was going?" asked Rohan.

"That way," Angus said, pointing in the opposite direction. "But I don't think it was about a dog."

Rolling his eyes, Rohan breathed. "No." It was mild and full of cynicism.

Angus shrugged. " 'Was just saying."

A middle-aged man with a line of blood drawing down his face was limping towards them, panting and in pain. He winced as he approached their campsite and nearly fell; however, Angus pulled the man to his feet. "What is it, sir? What's happened to you?" he asked.

The man quivered. "Oh, aye, 'twas the most damnable thing I'd ever did see. Not even the Devil Himself could have imagined such things."

At once, Angus and Rohan shared a look that seemed to say, "Maeve."

"Do you live nearby, sir?" asked Rohan.

"Aye. But you'd be damned if you think I'd be going to a hovel of twigs for protection. I'm headed for the castle." Then, miraculously, the aged, hurting man began limping then broke into a hindered run towards the castle.

Angus sighed. "When I grow up, I wanna be just like him."

"It'll be a long time before you grow up," said Rohan as he began running towards the creature.

"Ah," said Angus, picking up his mace. "Should've seen that one coming." He ran after Rohan, a grim look on his stony face.