Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #21 December 2015 | Page 36

expression on his father’s face of course, but he
thought it must be surprised. There was a rapid
expression of shock on the man in red’s face before
he flew the few feet between him and the woman and
swept her into a hug. The boy caught a swift grimace
on her face.

“Andarta! I looked for you at the quayside.”
He put her down and shuffled his feet.

The boy couldn’t believe it. Andarta? From
the Tales?

“Kelly thought it better if we kept a low
profile. We’ve been waiting for three days Padraig.
These?” Her hand gesture took in the boy and his
father.

“We can trust them. I think.” The man in red
rubbed his jaw. “We can, can’t we?” he asked the
Ferryman. After a short pause, the Ferryman nodded.
The boy nodded too.

“The others?” Padraig, the man in red was
Padraig? asked.

“Donnal and Cerridwen are in the village inn.
Aiman went to the castle a couple of days ago, and
we’ve seen nothing of him since.” She glanced at the
Ferryman when she said this, “Montaigne is still in
his own country, we think.
Certainly no-one has heard
from him since we split up.
The others? Not so sure. I
told you that splitting up-“

“Let’s not rehash that
argument Andarta!” Padraig
barked.

The boy looked
between them; there was
some power struggle he
couldn’t understand. The
warrior woman looked away
first.

“We can’t wait for them. We must approach the
ruler of this country and ask him what we have asked
all the others. Pass on my father’s message. His last
wish to us.”

She sighed and nodded, and her hand fell upon
the pommel of her sword. “Lead on then. Tell me
about your new companions on the road.”

“Later. For now we need to understand what
we approach. Boy, tell Andarta the story of The
Beast.”
***
You know it of course. As does the Ferryman.
But perhaps if I repeat it, it will give me some
courage, some insight even, for the evening to come. I
square my shoulders as we march down the soft path,
the path that many never return from. I summon up
the pictures my boy’s mind’s eye had painted all that
time ago. I am surprised that, even though I have not
thought about it for a lifetime, the images I worked so
hard on are like a polished diamond.

I take a deep breath, and start the story…

36

To Be Continued.