The Tunnels of Woe
Book 1: A Bounty Like No Other
Chapter 5 Part 3: The Wrath of the Fisher King
The blast was horrific, but not strong enough to end the aquatic hag of horrors. Yet the shot was more than enough to distract the witch from her duel of wills with the sea maiden.
The sea hag jaw was blown from her face, and the horrid creature flailed while gurgling a disgusting screech in all directions crushing many of her own minions in the process. Cages both full and empty were sent toppling. Monsters and pieces of monsters were flung into the air like possessed puppets souring in the wind. Above all this madness rose the clear flowing lilly voice of the Sea Maiden with full triumph in that sweet nectar voice. Graceful like that of a charging great cat in jungles both deep and mysterious, and as deadly as its bite.
A rumbling in the world shook even the waves, and the trumpets of approaching armies seemed to cry out all around them. To Tirro’s shock the peaks of mountains began to rise out of the waves all around them. The peaks rose jagged but snow capped as if the water had not touched them. Log cabins and flowing rising towers with many spires were dotted around these rising prespices. None were as grand as the palace nestled on the rapidly rising largest mountain in the center of the ring of cliff faces some fifty miles from the black lighthouse.
The opulent building was as much a fortress as a mansion. Emerald colored minarets, bright silver staples, and solid stone arches danced across a main hall that must contain thousands of rooms and side passages branching out to equally opulent mini fortresses walling off four courtyards taking up the entirety of the mountain peak. Next was a forest of planned trees and parks that looked untouched despite being submerged not a minute ago. Tirro could spy pleasant paths and flocks of colorful birds taking flight as the growing mountain rose in the distance.
Past the trees and parks came a city full of archways and canals. Towering citadels rose up from cliffs and layers of emerald walls. Layer after layer of buildings teeming with life rose into the air from trees to plants to what looked like more mermen on the varied roofs and defenses. In a matter of moments a circular mountain range had appeared from the deep with a single cut allowing entrance to the lagoon beyond. The black lighthouse was at the mouth of this channel carved into the stone megaliths. Right in the middle of this formation was the mer city covering the largest towering peak. So high the palace upper floors peaked up over the bowl of rock shimmering in the light.
The last surprise came with the emergence of a castle and walled harbor just a mile or so down a rocky path still dripping water from the lighthouse. From all around vessels burst from the water with shining emerald sails. From these galleys of massive proportions came the trumpets and shouts of warriors. More contingents were marching from the emergent keep shaped like a twisting knife cutting into the sky and flying buttresses connecting the tower to thick strong walls covered in green banners.
More companies of armored soldiers carrying green banners and cloaks came boiling out of the sea on all sides. They were soon engaging the panicking monstrosities which were fighting like rats backed into a corner. Desperate and mad in their peril.
Soon the wave of warriors had passed by the tight circle of defenders, and proceeded to surround the hag at a safe distance. In her pain and panic the fiend retreated up the lighthouse with her massive tentacles flailing in every direction to keep her assailants back.
Though the song of the sea maiden seemed to prevent much of the mayhem, and force of the cursed witch's retreat, the hag’s jaw and wounds still healed before their eyes. At the top of the tower she stood tall and fell. Proud and formidable. None of the mermen seemed very willing to chase her onto her perch, and Tirro saw her eyes burn bright and angry in his direction. There would be no more lucky crossbow shots. Pity.
The seahag raised her oversized arms to the sky while crying out in a language foreign to the Veni men. By the sound it seemed to be a bastardization of the singsongy language of the mer people around them judging by the reaction of the warriors and sea maiden. The part which disturbed Tirro wasn’t the portal filled with tempests of roiling colors and tentacles, but the being seen but not seen beyond. The deckhand knew the feel of this villain, and the resounding cry that came from beyond the break in the fabric of reality confirmed its identity.
Tirro looked to his uncle as he felt his face go ashen once more. Uncle Curroz looked even older and tired by that sound of death and suffering. The shadow rising in the portal told the tale. Their stalker was coming. The Seahag was in league with the nameless enemy in the tunnels. Little wonder she’d plucked them from the void. The sea whore had been hunting for them.
The deckhand wondered if they should risk a final blind jump in their skiff, but looking upon the mermen which saved their hides brought the cuirassier out of Tirro once more. He would not leave honorable men to a miserable death brought on by his cowardly running. Let them die together as men and sons of the Almighty. Amen. Besides, looking at their battered, and sad tunnel skiff Tirro doubted they would get far.
The deckhand had just opened his mouth to tell his uncle his intentions when an earthquake shook the entire mountain formation, and roiled the waves around them. Out from the highest tower of the peak a pair of truly massive wings unfurled white as snow and pure as the brightest day of creation. Out came a seahawk so large dragons would tremble at the beat of its gargantuan wings. Upon this beast rode a tall man with flowing red hair hefting a spear covered in emerald green and lilies.
A wave of scarlet flames came vomiting out of the portal in the shape of dread worms and foul lizards coming to meet the onslaught of the great sea hawk. Another voice came over the air from the palace. This voice was an older, more mature voice of the sea maiden, and from the power in her song the flamed dread demons halted in midair as if they’d crashed against an invisible wall.
Then the great hawk broke through the ranks of fire machinations with a shield of flowing water surrounding the raptor’s massive body. A cry of challenge came from the bird even as its rider drew back the great spear. A last wail came from the portal and the seahag as the spear grew in the air with vines spreading in all directions flowing behind it like a rushing lion’s mane. Great thornes sprouted on the vines as they spiraled with the weapon. With a crash the spear landed home in the sea hag’s chest. The vines flew in all directions, lashing and piercing the many tentacles, and as if part of a living being climbed up the arms of the hag and into the portal.
Rolling thunder blasts filled the air as the portal collapsed into itself dragging the burning demons, the nameless horror, and the seahag into its being before disappearing into nothing. The hawk flew in, and with a furious raptor shout grasped the black tower in massive talons before ripping it from its pedestal. A few flaps of the wings later the great bird threw the dark lighthouse with such force that not only did the black edifice fly into the closest mountain, the strong stones shattered in a shout of thousand unclean spirits.
Tirro laughed and collapsed next to his uncle who had already gone to his knees, and cried praises to the great Father and Master of the Heavens as the massive shadow marked the flight of the beast and his rider up above. Tirro would join his uncle in praise soon enough. For now he was simply overjoyed to be alive. No slow torturous death, or soul trapped till the savior himself came to claim these strange lands. That was good enough for this overstretched deckhand that was for sure.
The last thing Tirro remembered as he surrendered to another wave of deep weariness on his uncle’s shoulder was an odd sight. Many of the warriors were in similar states of exhaustion and euphoria. Many were in tears and praising the heavens without stretched arms. All were shouting with joy. The deckhand had a passing thought as his eyes began to close as the pretty sea girl started coming Tirro’s way scepter in hand.
How long had this merkingdom been trapped by the seahag’s power? A question to be answered by a less overworked deckhand on another day Tirro figured as sleep took him.
The Story Will Continue Every Wednesday.
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