[rjd_39]

The day was drawing to a close and so too were Archibald's eyes. Dusk had engulfed the world into its twilight and faint summer dimness managed, with a struggle, to creep through the closed Venetian blinds of his bedroom. He lay listening to the sounds familiar to him from outside his window as slits of dying light hit the opposite wall and ceiling. Archie lived in a cottage situated on the banks of a broad and slow flowing river. His father was the bridge keeper and the house sat perpendicular to the bridge, a mere hundred yards further down the bank. It was a small house, nestled nicely in and amongst the fringes of a thick forest that gave way to the river cutting through the land of tall evergreen giants like a silver sword. There was some open farmland on the far bank but as the ground sloped upwards, out of the valley, the hills were again cloaked in forest.

School had been taxing on Archie's brain and his day had been hard. Even though he was tired, it took some persuading from his mum that it was time to hit the hay and turn off the TV. A football match was on and his team was playing. At the half time whistle his mum stood authoritatively between him and the screen. By the look of her, post match analysis of the first half was the last thing on her mind; she was here to get Archie to bed.

"I'll record the second half for you. It's time to go to sleep, you have school in the morning" she said.

There was no point resisting. Archie gave a futile huff and crossed his arms. His team was two goals down; things could only get more depressing as he now met an immovable object who was sure of the fact that this television was going off. So as not to burn the lifeline offer of having the second half taped, Archie changed his mood and obliged his mum. Hoisting a disgruntled good night, shuffling his feet, he scuttled through to his bedroom that was across the small hall from the living room. His mum called him back for a goodnight kiss so he had to retrace his steps over the cold ceramic tiles that made a mosaic by the front door.

The sound of the river was now all that was in his mind as he lay in the stillness, its noise and tone, with all its differing bubbling frequencies, washed over him. His window had been opened a jar so as to hear it clearer. Clean, highland air now wafted in the room and settled in the silence. The T.V was off and his mum was not to be heard, perhaps she was working through the house in the kitchen. His dad was out at a community meeting and would not be home for a while. Slowly, very slowly, he drifted off to sleep. His day had ended but his adventure was just beginning....


Later that night, Archie awoke with a shriek. A dreadful noise was heard in the world outside and it pierced into his little bedroom that was by now completely engulfed in darkness. It was such a loud cry that he thought the maker of the noise was right outside his window. No other nocturnal noise was like it. It was no owl, nor fox; indeed no animal could make such a sound. It wasn't the laughter or banter made by those coming home from the village pub after closing time either. No, it was a cry for help, a shout of a girl in great distress. By now, Archie had wished that his window were not open, for what if the one who had caused the terror or had inflicted the pain should happen to come and explore around about his house? A closed window offers more protection than an open one. There was now only the wafer thin wooden Venetian blinds that separated him from whatever lay outside.

What was he to do? Was he to look out into the dark world and see if he could see what or who made that horrible sound or was he to lie low and pretend he never heard it? His heart was in his mouth and his imagination by now had run away down endless avenues and corridors. Curiosity heightened and eventually got the better of him, he just had to look. Slowly he got up. He knelt on his bed and went to reach for the blind chord at the side of the window. He held his breath and pulled it. Lifting the blinds he peered out beyond the angled reflection of his face in the slightly open window and saw nothing. The valley, the village and the house lay ignorant to the scream, nothing and no-one made a sound. No dog barked. No house lights came on. The world around Archie lay fast asleep. He opened the window further to listen and look to make sure. He was by now like a horse peering out over its stable door, his wee head boldly exploring what lay beyond. The memory of the scream lingered on in his mind putting to flight the idea that he had imagined it. He was just about to go back to bed when he saw something strange out of the corner of his eye. With the aid of the little landing light at the jetty, he could see that an old fashioned and beautifully decorated boat had been tied ashore. Archie thought that if a king or prince were to go rowing, then they would row in a boat just like that. The beauty of the boat had a drawing power upon Archie. Something whispered on the night wind and it journeyed into his mind,
"Go to the boat and take a closer look."

Dismissing this thought as foolishness, Archie gave a wee laugh and felt perfectly content from the relative safety of his box bedroom. Anyway, the owner of the boat mustn't be far away. No rowing boat no matter how ornate could drift downstream and then miraculously tie itself up by a jetty. Still the thought plagued his mind. It would not let him go. Curiosity was again welling up from some place deep within. Before he knew where he was, he had leapt from the bed, darting with some difficulty through the window and his bare feet landed on the soft wet grass of the long and gentle slope of the river bank. He stopped. Forcing his head down and back into his neck, giving himself five chins, furrowing his brow he looked perplexed. Never before had he jumped out through his window, he had not thought that it was possible. He opened his mouth to complete the glazed look of astonishment. Here he was in his pyjamas in the damp night air but strangely enough, he didn't seem to feel the cold, a sense of wonder warmed his bones.

Drawing nearer the boat he saw the craftsman ship in more detail. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. The wood that the boat was made of was light in colour, the varnish shone in the moonlight, when the moon occasionally ventured out from behind the clouds. The seats looked like they were made of velour and were a deep red in colour, almost crimson. What was most striking of all was the fancy carvings all along the boat. There was a lions head at the front, at the tip of the bough, like that of the Viking long boats with their dragons but much more modest and humble in it's style and size. From the head there came a pattern that swished and swirled all the way along the top of the rim, catching up the oar islets and reaching right to the stern. It was a one man row boat and the oars, still attached, were lifted out the water into a criss-cross shape that dovetailed together making the boat seem like some big brown goose waiting by the waters edge.

"Untie the boat and take her for a wee ride."

The thought came into Archie's head so clearly that he thought that someone spoke to him from behind. He jumped, thinking it was the owner granting him permission to go for a row but looking around there was not a soul about. Archie was alone with this thought in the dead of night. It took root in his mind and grew and grew so rapidly even though it seemed at odds with common sense. This was stealing and anyway, he had only been out with his dad on the water and had never rowed by himself before. Still the feeling would not leave him. Archie looked around once more like some bandit and then slinked into the boat. He untied the rope, took down the oars quietly and cast off from the shore. At first it felt as though he had left his heart on dry land. He gasped for breath and his pulse was out of control.

"What have I done?" he let out a little squeal

The oars were heavy and cumbersome in the water it took a lot of his effort to hold them, let alone row with them. It was strange; the boat seemed to know where it was going as though it had been programmed and prepared for Archie's boarding and cheeky voyage. Certainly, he tried to row and made a good effort, considering his age and strength, but the boat was firmly being steered by the current or something else beyond the river, the boat and the boy. This could not have been more unmistakably realised when all of a sudden, after drifting downstream for only a short time, the boat did an about turn, a hundred and eighty degrees, and went against the flow of the slow meandering river. It happened just before the boat was due to go under the bridge further downstream from Archie's house. Panic seized hold of him. His jaw dropped and he lifted the oars clean out of the water, just to make sure that it was none of his doing. He turned to the bow of the boat and also made sure that there was no rope attached, acting as the driving force that now pulled them up stream. There was no such rope. Archie let out another yelp, this time sounding like a fox calling out for a mate.

The boy and the boat went back again past his house that still lay sleeping on the bank. No light was on and not a sound was to be heard. There was only the call of a distant owl, miles into the forest singing out his repetitive lonely song. Archie past familiar landmarks as he journeyed upstream: the glade where he and his friends would play on hot summer days; The standing stone, towering out of the water, in who's wake a salmon was bound to be found resting. The village church was still flood lit at this late hour, the spire peeked out from amongst the trees, then there were the telegraph poles with their high wires bridging over the water. This was the furthest he had ever traveled; it was by these poles that his Dad had set Archie his boundaries. Beyond them, life was a mystery. Unexplored. The boat didn't seem to be bothered by such rules. It just kept on sailing. It seemed so effortless, gliding upon the surface of the water. There was no sail, no sound of out board motor and yet it journeyed with such precision. It cut open the mirror like river that, though it was flowing, had a glassy stillness that reflected the stars in the night sky now seen with larger roof lights being opened in the cloud cover. Orion danced ahead upstream, not encumbered by the sword in his belt

Very gently, after they had been travelling for quite some time, the boat began to veer in towards the north bank of the river, the same bank on which they had left from 3miles or so downstream. This place was alien to Archie. Fear and wonder came to greet him off the boat at exactly the same moment. He sat on the soft velour couch amazed that the boat had been able to moor itself, all it needed was to throw a rope ashore and tie it to some scrub or grass and you would have thought that a human had performed such a maneuver. No rope was required. The boat wasn't going anywhere Archie however felt compelled to step into this new territory.

The first of his five senses to trigger more wonder was that of touch. His bare feet were met with a warmth coming up through the grass as he stepped from the boat. He jumped with a start, leaping into the air. Archie smiled seconds later, completely bamboozled by this phenomenon. He crouched down to touch it. The ground was radiated a strange heat, it wasn't an intense, unpleasant heat, it was like the feeling of his cosy slippers back home. He got up and moved around, further into the forest, testing to make sure that there wasn't just random heat spots. No, the heat was the same where ever he went, how could this happen and how could the plant and animal life survive in such a strange land? That question was to remain a mystery until it was quickly forgotten about as something else startled him. As he drew nearer into the forest a strange sound was heard. It was like the sound of droplets of water hitting the ground but these were slower, fatter, richer sounding droplets. Looking around to see if he could see the source of the sound he was amazed at what he saw. The evergreen trees seemed to be dripping with sticky liquid. Large blobs would land on the warm grass and forest ground cover every now and again. Archie thought that it was only water but when one such drip landed on his head and trickled down through his scalp, he was pleasantly surprised by his taste buds, registering that this was the best honey he had ever had. He licked his hand once more before going to catch another droplet.

As he moved further into the forest he could see a figure coming out of the shadows towards him. The taste of the honey was now forgotten about in his mouth. In fact, its sweetness had turned sickly sweet now that it had been mingled with apprehension. Archie darted behind a large boulder and some bushes, hoping to conceal himself. Had he been noticed? Had this stranger seen his whereabouts? Archie's pulse began to race so fast that he thought his heart would explode, at least he was certain that its sound would give away his hiding place. It was so noisy, growing ever faster.

Slowly, calmly and with authority the figure came to Archie who was crouching in fear low to the ground. A nose peeked over the boulder and bracken and invaded his airspace. Behind this wet, long nose were the deepest eyes Archie had ever seen. They immediately held him in their gaze. Above them, antlers reached heavenward and ears flicked and swished for a second as though chasing away some unwanted fly. Archie didn't breathe. His breath was stolen from him and it was as if his heart, that had been beating so fast, was now not working at all. He sat undone, slouched like a half filled sack of potatoes before such a creature of majesty. The deer looked like a king. His antlers should rightfully have had carried many different crowns, hanging like vibrant decorations dangling from the branches of a Christmas tree but there was no crowns, these antlers spoke for themselves.
Archie found a look of safety in these eyes that peered into the windows of his soul. He knew that he was very vulnerable and exposed before such a beast and yet he felt incredibly safe in the stag's company. Not a word was spoken and yet the pair of them had a conversation in this held gaze. It was eye contact that went beyond the need of words. Archie straightened up his posture and began to look with a measure of the same intensity back toward the stag. This lasted for many minutes and reached far into eternity. Never before in all his limited little life had Archie felt so at home and so sure of who he was as when he was looking into the eyes of such a king of the forest. The stag then gave one long deep sigh, warm air wafted from his nostrils and coursed over Archie's cheek. With that the stag turned around and effortlessly trotted back into the depths of the forest, it was the most majestic thing that Archie had ever seen. He sat there in the warmth, replaying it again and again, pinching himself as to whether or not it really happened.

There was now a very clear junction before Archie. It wasn't to be found in the forest, it was to be found in his life. He sat cross-legged and somewhat disheveled. Was he to go on into the forest or was he to return to the boat? Longing called from the forest and Archie wanted to summon up every ounce of courage he had and venture further into the darkness. At one in the same time sensibility had him firmly held, it was one of those child safety harnesses that give parents peace of mind when they have their young children out in public places. The trouble was, something inside agreed with such sensibility and Archie seemed equally content to take the safe option and either remain where he was or return to the boat and venture back down stream. Just then, a barrage of questions came almost to loosen him from his harness.

"But would the boat be able to take me home? What if it was ordered or commanded to bring me here and couldn't return on his own free will alone? Where was this place anyway? It certainly was not like his world, the world further down stream."

Archie spoke of the boat as if it were a person, he had a nasty habit of turning inanimate objects into people in his own world but here it almost seemed logical to do so. He looked over his right shoulder to see that it was still moored by the shore. It sat bobbing in the water almost like a servant awaiting further instructions only its master, who ever that might be, was not speaking. It was content to rest. Sighing, Archie realised that there was no way that the boat would be taking him down stream. He contemplated walking along the bank of the river but the undergrowth was thick and very bushy. Fir trees stood as bouncers, guarding many doorways along the path, making sure that his journey on foot would be a hard one verging on the impossible. He thought about making a dash for it and swimming back down stream but sense gave a wee shriek of terror and began, in surrender, to unclip her safety harness. Archie was not the strongest of swimmers and this was by far the worst of all the options presented to him. Standing to his feet, dusting himself down, he began to verge very slowly further into the dark forest. The hero inside him came to stand central stage and seemed to bask in this moment of crazy courage. In the midst of the unknown he found himself smiling and a warmth came down over him through his scalp and over his face, it was just like the heat that still seemed to be arising from the ground. Finding a little path through the trees he found himself beginning to run. It was as if it was all meant to be. Archie found comfort in this, the sensation upon his head increased until it seemed that there was a Mexican wave of warmth rising over and through every hair on his head, making them stand and sit as though they were in some stadium or arena. It was an intense feeling of pleasure, as though this was what he was born to do.

Stepping up the pace he once again found something out of the ordinary. It was as though he could gallop like a horse. His pace was young and light stepping, light and nimble with the same power as a horse but, even though a horse is a very beautiful creature, he journeyed with even more grace and elegance. It was as though he had a gear box of options, offering different speeds and paces. This thrilled Archie's heart. All sense of fear and wanting to say by the boat had left him, he now only wished that he had discovered this gift sooner. It was every boy's dream. He stopped and started, jogging and then jigging up to full speed. He moved along the twisting and turning path with the greatest of ease. At one point he checked his rear just to see if there was a pair of hind legs attached. To his surprise there wasn't. He gave a wee laugh into the night air and continued nimbly along the weaving path that seemed now to be opening out into a broader meadow or clearing. The moonlight illuminated the path as if it were a band of silver in the vein of a rock. Strange and wonderful smells whisked past him, flowers with scents that he had never smelt before gave a fleeting greeting as he cantered onwards.

The sense of adventure was heightened again with that by now familiar feeling of fear as Archie began to realise that there was someone or something watching from the shadows of the forest. Whatever it was it was very different to the Stag who had come so close back at the river's edge. It seemed to be some sort of predator, watching and stalking from a far, almost angry that it had been disturbed or that its cover had been blown. Archie began to realise that perhaps it was not an actual individual creature that was watching, it was as though this whole section of the forest was observing his every move. Upon till this moment in his life Archie had never been so scared. The sense of the unknown intimidated him to new levels. It was perhaps the fact that his danger could not be seen that frightened him the most. The funny thing was there was fear in the forest too. Whatever or whoever was watching was also afraid. It was gripped by the fear of being found out, uncovered and unearthed. If it hadn't been for the fact something told him that the stag had journeyed this route and that he now followed hot on its heels, Archie may well have given in to the terror that stalked in the night, crumpling like heap on the ground.

Without seeming to grow tired, he pressed on through the clearing with the feeling of being watched heightening all the time. The path made the shape of a bottleneck at the top end of the meadow and for a while it snaked and sneaked through some of the densest forest so far on the journey. Shortly after this, it came close to the bank of a large body of water that looked to be a lake or a loch. When going through the thick forest it was as though there were surveillance cameras perched from every branch and Archie was sure that at some point this unknown attacker would have launched out from the darkness towards him. He, like a herbivore, was glad to be out in the open once again. The water of the loch was perfectly still, even more glassy than the river, mirroring perfectly the now clear and cloudless sky. There was not a breath of wind. In the absence of a breeze the various smells and scents of the forest could almost be tasted on Archie's pallet as he caught wind of them as he careered on along the path. In and amongst these strange new smells came a familiar waft of honey suckle so intense that it had a bubbly personality all of its own.

Up ahead, a castle built upon a rock promontory could be seen silhouetted against the faint glare of the moonlight on the water. As soon as he saw it, everything in Archie's being cried out that he was to make it to that fortress. He looked on it with suspicion, uncertain if safety was to be found there or if the next part of his 'mission' was opening out before him.

As he neared the long broad road that seemed to bridge the castle at the waters edge over the rocky outcrop, he could see that there was a strange looking little man standing in a hooded cloak waiting to greet and meet him. Slowing up he began to see the little man's features more clearly. He stood to the left hand side of the road way by a very strong and well built wall that was about three foot high in height and ran along side the cobbled road. There was an identical wall on the other side of the road bringing perfect symmetry to the approach to this already impressive feet of building that seemed well fortified.
Lowering the hood of his little cloak the man softly said,

"You have made good time."

Such a statement reeked of the fact that this man, who had the most peculiar ears, was expecting him. There was no getting away from the fact that Archie found himself centre stage in a drama that was not of his making. He chose to ignore the funny man's opening remark and cut to the chase.

"Who are you?" Archie asked.

"My name is They. I speak on behalf of the people."

Archie could not keep his eyes of this little man's ears, they seemed to shoot out almost like little knifes from the side of his head. Aware that his facial features and his name seem to puzzle Archie, along with the fact that there were watchers in the forest, They seemed some what agitated.

"We must be quick! Time not on our side" snapped They.

"On our side? Are we in a fight? I have so many questions..."

"You could say that." They interrupted Archie before another question was aloud to slip from his lips.

"What am I doing here? Where am I?" Archie continued with defiance.

"These are all good questions and the answers to which will come in the right season. For now though you must listen to what I am about to tell you."

Leaving his questions by the wayside, Archie saw the determined look in They's eyes and was resigned to the fact that, just like his mum turning off the football match at half time, there was no way he was going to find answers at this juncture. It appeared that information here was on a need to know basis.

"There is a women held prisoner in the court room of this castle. It was her scream that you heard in the stillness of night" announced They. "Her name is Destiny. We know that the evil lord of these parts, Lord Key-ran, has her held captive. It is your job to free her. You must go into the castle and stand before his throne and petition for her release, you will not leave without her."

Having listened to that little speech, spoken with such intensity and speed, some sort of anger welled up inside Archie and now that there was a pause in the conversation, there was a suitable avenue and opportunity for its outburst.

"Hold on a minute! Just who do you think you are and why are you talking to me like this, you strange little man! What part do I have to play in your little rescue plan? I am only a boy, how can stand against such a king who takes prisoners?" Archie gripped by the fear of the moment kept his voice down but there was a sharpness to his tongue that regardless of volume was able to lash out against They. Though he was a little man, barely reaching above the four foot mark, there was a strength in They that seemed to stand against the anger of Archie. He was like a police horse who in the middle of rowdy crowd of football supporters could still keep his cool. They seemed to understand the source of the anger in Archie; it was born out of panic, a panic of the unknown. They continued with greater calm,

" I know that you must be feeling out of your depth at this moment. It is right and only natural because of all that you have experienced upon till the point and all that now stands looming before you. Understand though that you can trust me for I do tell you the truth. Here, let me give you something to help you stand."

Turning his back on Archie for a brief second, They picked up a long staff that was propped up against the wall behind him.

"This is yours." They said and, with two hands holding a staff parallel to the ground, presented it to Archie very unceremoniously yet with a great amount of dignity.

Though its size dwarfed him (it was a good foot or so taller than the boy) the staff felt somehow familiar to Archie. He had never seen it before and yet when he held it by his side and its tip touched the floor there was the most immense feeling of connection. It did bring support. If Archie was the sweet pea then here was his cane to hold him up, helping him to grow strong. The staff was not new, it was very basic and humble in its appearance. It seemed just to be a straight branch from a tree or a perhaps even the trunk of a sapling for all along the stick little knots or lumps could be seen were other branches had once peeked out. Both ends were fading. At the top end the brown bark was lightening in colour and peeling away at the edge. There was no ram's horn handle or any other decoration and the bottom did not have a stopper as he had seen on his father's walking stick. The result of this was that the wood was giving way slightly, folding back on itself. Despite the apparent plainness and ageing of the staff They was right, it did belong to Archie.

After patiently watching Archie becoming acquainted with his new found friend, smiling softly They spoke with the authority of a parent.

"The time has now come, you know what you have to do."

Archie was silent for a moment. He picked himself up from the inside as a farmer picks up a bag of corn and gave a long sigh.

"Yes, I am ready. I will go."

There was a look of admiration blended with a slight sprinkle of the unknown in They's eyes as he stood by the bridge. The realisation then dawned on him, he had been successful in ushering Archie into the mission. He clapped his little hands and then realised that he had made an unwelcome sound. Still he gave a little smile through clenched teeth and took a deep breath into his lungs. Archie didn't see any of this euphoria.

Equipped with staff in hand, he slowly edged toward the daunting oak doors of the fortress. Seven vertical symmetrical lines of black painted iron nails bolstered the doors and added a sense of reinforcement and stability to an already strong and ominous obstacle that seemed tightly closed. The doors loomed down on Archie who was very aware of his own weakness, never more in touch with the fact that he was a mere boy and wanted to cry for his mum. Though it didn't surface, this cry was so deep that it deafened the boy who had to fight for every step. The staff gave a light tap on the smooth cobbled slabs as Archie drew nearer and nearer. The rhythm of the tap was slow, painfully slow. It was as though a thousand winds blew to knock him off course. The night air was silent but this channelled tornado raged on, invisible to the naked eye.

Eventually, Archie made it. Chalk white, he took one last look around: the mirrored water; the stars and familiar constellations; the foreboding forest; the friendly face of They who seemed many miles away but was still only at the foot of the walkway. He gave one last encouraging smile and a slight nod of the head as though sparking Archie on to knock on the door.

In slow motion, Archie faced the strong panels of wood, like vertical broad motorways they careered upward. He was too small to reach for the black handle of the knocker that was a good few feet up and to the left. Out of instinct, he lifted the end of his staff and gave three large knocks on the door. He was amazed at what he heard. Canon fire sounded, or so it seemed. Archie glanced round to see what They made of it but he was gone, no longer to be seen standing by the parapet. The knocks resounded through the door and deep into the heart of the castle. Silence settled again. Out of the silence, the doors opened. Slowly they swung open with a large creek but without the help of a doorman or butler. Archie stepped into the large and grand hall by his own accord. The very same sense of being watched, as when he was in the forest, now flooded over him it was as if the air was thick with surveillance. Still, mustering up every ounce of courage that he carried in his little body, Archie stepped further into the hall and the doors slowly closed behind him. Archie's mind was then bombarded with a thought so horrid it chilled his soul.

" That could be the last time I see the light of day..."

He swallowed hard as though the echo of the door closing behind him was a bit of tough meat in a casserole. The floor of the hallway had a hypnotic effect. It was like the checks found on a chess board, only these black and white tiles seemed to move as if they were a flag at the finish of a grand prix. After a while Archie couldn't look to the floor, he had to peer straight ahead for his head was beginning to ache and in all honesty he thought he was going to fall into the floor and be consumed by it. Before him was a broad corridor that lead to four or five long but shallow steps that pointed to slightly smaller doors. Climbing the steps and reaching up to the handle of these doors he pulled them back to enter a large and very majestic courtroom. At the head of this room there sat a throne, very grand in size but somewhat faded and worn looking. Leading up to this focal point were several other smaller thrones lining both sides of the room. Had he the time or interest to count them he would have noticed that there were six thrones in all. These thrones were surrounded by six other smaller and more modest chairs, positioned in the shape of horseshoes, three on either side.
Upon Archie's entry the room came to a stand still. You could have heard a pin drop. Some who sat on the thrones and chairs had they mouths open wide with their jaws hanging low, others seemed to gasp for breath. Perhaps the funniest sight of all was the man who seemed to have been going somewhere, being midway across the floor, when the doors opened and Archie stepped in. He was frozen on the spot and this freeze lasted for a good few seconds before he scuttled back to the seat from which he came like a beetle whose rock had been up turned and he was exposed to the light of day.

Silence and awe at the audacity of all that walked before them gripped the spectators in the court as Archie made his way to what seemed to be the highest point of authority, the raised throne protruding out from the far away wall of this long rectangular room. It was as though he was on autopilot, his runway had been selected and he was coming into land. Like the boat journeying up stream, he seemed to know his course. This is not to say however, that he was a robot, devoid of feelings, complying only with some pre programmed schedule. Not at all! Had he chosen to, fear was ready to grip him at any moment and bind him so tight that he would not dare move. Fear was everywhere. It was fear that made the floor swish and swirl, it was fear that opened the mouths of these people and brought the room to complete silence. In short, Archie would not have been standing let alone walking had it not been for the staff in his hand that, in true metronome fashion, kept a perfect taping rhythm hammered out all the clearer as it struck the shiny tiled floor of the room bathed in silence.

Archie stopped and every eye in the place was on him. Two eyes in particular seemed to burn down at him from the throne before which he stood. The charged atmosphere cracked with a question,

"Who do you think you are coming barging in here uninvited?"

" I am here for Destiny." Archie's voice came almost as a whisper. He sounded like a whimpering dog seeking to be brought in out of the cold and rain but even then this analogy doesn't do the sound justice. One thing was for certain, such a reply served as a great icebreaker; the intense silence was shattered to pieces by loud and uproarious laughter sparked by the king on his throne. He thrust his head back and laughed at the heavens of the high ceiling hall, shoulder length black hair streamed back in the hilarity. After a while his deep and uncontrolled laugh seemed to wane and some sort of order returned, with equal intensity as before.

"And how do you suppose this is going to come about, you retrieving Destiny?" Lord Key-ran toyed with Archie the way a cat toys with its prey. His face, long and gaunt with pointed features, was awash with a seriously smug look.

"You are going to give me her." In child like simplicity and innocence Archie answered seemingly blind to Key-ran's mockery.

Lord Key-ran let out another ecstatic yelp and the court joined in though this time there was a ring of falseness to his tone and the room picked up on it.

"Leaving Destiny aside for a moment...tell me a bit about yourself boy. Who are you? Who sent you? Where are you from? How did you get this far? Do you know the Stag?"

Remembering his own questions that he had blasted angrily at They, Archie gave a little smile at the rate at which these questions now came. This made Key-ran somewhat ill at ease.

"Why should he dare smile in such a situation? Does he not fear me?" Thought Key-ran, restlessly moving his bottom back into the base of his throne.

"Oh, I'll find out in the fullness of time and when I do, I'll be sure to tell you!"

Such a reply, so different from his faint introduction, oozed confidence and could not have come from the heart of a boy. This wisdom, wise in it's discretion, came from something or someone else.

Archie was growing in stature with every question that the king in his court asked and this made the king feel even more nervous. A pale look of disdain now crept over his already white face.

"You mean to tell me that you don't know who you are?" Lord Key-ran retorted with a sordid laugh and hoped that his tongue would be as a scalpel, cutting a deep and internal wound into the heart of Archie's identity. No such wound was made, Archie was focused and the king's words couldn't find a resting place.

"That is of no importance at this point, I am here for Destiny."

Archie was growing in his defiance against this king and the seeming shallowness that surrounded him. It was as though everything was false and fake. The people of the court seemed to be playing the children's game of lets pretend in a fai§ade of a courtroom painted with glitter gold and glory, only now such paint was slowly peeling away, revealing the rust underneath.

Lord Key-ran's questions were at opposite ends of the spectrum to the deep and all knowing eyes of the Stag who had reached down into the depths of the dark forest to hold Archie's gaze. Here were two 'kings' ruling different kingdoms. Trust and deep open beauty, revealed in silence, was the hallmark of one while the other was built on the foundation of information. With information came knowledge and knowledge called forth power. The only problem with this equation was that information was thin on the ground and Key-ran's power was weakening.

"So you want Destiny eh?" Key-ran said these words whilst standing to his feet, leaving his throne and going over to the corner of the room. There some sort of blanketed cage came down from the ceiling on a thick golden chain. Though it was suspended in mid air, about 10 feet of the ground, three tall and well-built guards stood surrounded it with long spears held at an angle by their sides. Moving between such men with quick and great ease, Key-ran, in a flash, tugged the thick black cloth and it came slinking off with speed to reveal a girl dressed in white sitting with some discomfort on a golden swing in a golden barred cage.

Here was a songbird who had known freedom and was now a prisoner in chains complete with wings clipped. The way Key-ran revealed her you would have thought that he was the artist and she was his masterpiece. Yet the tender shape of her face and the colour of her long blond hair that framed such beauty showed up the empty hollowness of the sheen of the cage. Key-ran was no artist he was a pirate. Indeed, ever Destiny's very presence though locked up seemed to further diminish the glory of the room.

" You want Destiny, then here she is!"

Key-ran gave a cheeky little turn on his heels after sweeping off the dark veil as though he were an eccentric thespian. He then came nimbly and with speed towards the boy trying to look menacing and intimidating. Coming down off the high steps, he strategically stood between Archie and the girl of the cage, he moved like a long beaked bird and perked questions down at the boy.

" She is my prisoner, see the way I have her held, do you think that you could muster up all your feeble strength to rescue her? You fool! You ignorant little fool! Who do you think you are?....boy!"

Key-ran reminded Archie of the lecturing head mistress, the old spinster, of his local school. Though she would wag her finger when she spoke angrily and annoyed, with little drops of spittle sent flying, Key-ran had no such hand actions but his eyes seemed pointy and not for the first time Archie felt down trodden, alone and terribly afraid. His shoulders began to slink down, Key-ran saw this and continued,

"Yes that's it, foolish boy, you must now be yoked. Fear is here and it shall hold you so near! You shall be its oxen and it shall have you ploughing endless muddy fields with no hope of freedom."

With the words of such a curse Key-ran turned his back and with eyes of fury climbed the steps up to his throne. Sitting down he saw the full weight of fear coming to rest upon Archie. Archie felt it too. He thought that he was going to die. It came so strong as though someone had punched him from above, but it was so much more than a punch for the pain of the blow did not leave him, instead it intensified. The fear that had washed through the court room wave after wave, the fear that met him at the door and had made him dizzy and drunk, now assembled all together and came to press down upon feeble, little shoulders. Archie's heart was giving way. He fell to his knees and crumpled. With both hands he still held on tightly to the staff but it was no use, he could not kneel let alone stand, he curled up into the fetal position.

This feeling of wasting away lasted for many moments, it seemed like an eternity. All hope was ebbing to a distant lowtide far out on a strange horizon but then, something remarkable began to happen. It came faintly at first. A pulse was heard running through the grain of the wood of the staff. Archie then felt it in his fingertips and then it flowed into his hands. It grew stronger. Moving up his arms, it reached into his heart and came to hug and hold the very depth of his being. Here was Archie's life support machine. It grow stronger and stronger, surging like electricity it reached down into his feet and flew up to the top of his head, fighting the fear from out with. The beats, like the drum of a warrior, beat back with courage and honour the fear that was pressing down upon the boy from above. Slowly Archie stood to his feet once again, helped along with a power and energy that could give birth to stars and planets if it so desired. The friction in the atmosphere was almost tangible and was verging on the unbearable; it could have been cut with a knife. The yoke of fear was forced back at great speed by the authority of the staff that now coursed through Archie's every vein, it flew off in a crackle and an explosion. Key-ran could not but help show his horror at all that stood before him once again, his mouth was open ever so slightly in astonishment. His look of disgust was met by older wiser eyes as the boy who seemed once so broken was standing to his feet soon to again petition this captor of Destiny. Archie slowly and deliberately clasped the staff in such a way that each of his four fingers were ceremoniously lifted and then placed on once again against the brown bark whose pulse was still to be heard though more faintly now that the attack of fear had subsided. Starting with the pinky, running quickly to his index finger, each one played their part in his little hand's Mexican wave of celebration, before clasping the staff in a loose but firm grasp. Such an action made Key-ran feel ill at ease; once again he leapt to his feet and strode towards Archie. This time his actions didn't seem to intimidate the boy as much and this too took its toll upon the king. He said in haste

"You are not going to go away are you?"

"No" replied Archie, " I will not leave and I will not be broken. I am here for Destiny"

His simple childlike repetition was wearing Key-ran thin. Archie was like a pile driver that places fence posts securely into the ground, in that same childlike simplicity he drove his request deep down. Though it appeared to be so unbelieve that this young boy might free such a prisoner against such odds his persistence was slowly beginning to take effect and was about to lead to Key-ran making a grave mistake.

"I can see why you would want Destiny," shouted the king angrily, " She has the most angelic voice"

As if to keep Archie's attention occupied and away from the staff held in his little hand, Key-ran nervously, yet with such confidence, bounced over to Destiny's cage and began to shake it as though she were a canary joopbox and he was requesting his favourite song.

"Sing us a song Destiny! How's about that slow lament about your home that I love so much?"

Though the cage seemed all of a sudden to be at sea and Destiny was tossed by the waves of Key-ran's shaking, she silently obliged and carefully slipped down off of her golden perch and stood steady on her feet as the cage swayed to a stand still. She then opened her mouth to begin to sing after a further moment of composure. Key-ran stood a couple of paces back and remained facing her. Her beauty captivated him to the extent that, though she was in the cage, it was as if she was his captor. Every eye in the deadly silent court was now fixed upon Destiny. Going by the evidence of the black cloth and the looks on the elder's faces it was as if they had never seen her before and that Archie's interruption and intrusion had hurried up the grand unveiling. Every heart was mesmerised by the slow lament that poured forth from Destiny's lips. Grace notes and triplets tumbling took her voice up and down the octaves with the greatest of ease. No one there could have told you what it was that she actually sang about, they were all drawn into some sort of magical spell that her voice cast.

With every eye on Destiny nobody seemed to notice what effect her song was having upon the boy. He was fast becoming a man. Just as the staff had brought such rehabilitation and strength to Archie, Destiny's song now helped him to become the man that he was called to be. The ageing process intensified and Archie miraculously grew in the presence of all those in the court, only nobody was present to witness it, they were all transfixed upon Destiny.

Archie grew in height and stature. Strangely enough though his clothes grew too. The little hands that held the staff grew bigger and stronger and his torso and legs filed out and upwards so that it no longer seemed to dwarf him in size. Indeed he, a now a fully fledged man, looked down upon the staff that came to about his broad shoulder. Archie felt no pain as the process developed, the notes of Destiny's melody seemed to serve as a sweet anesthetic that at one and the same time called forth life. His hair grew just as rapidly until it was flowing to just above his shoulder, light brown in colour it glimmered in the light of Destiny's song. His facial bone structure aged too and was peppered with further wisdom that seemed to come from somewhere beyond. The icing on the cake however had to have been the beard that was born and seemed to seal this signing of wisdom upon the boy who now stood as a man. Destiny was the only one who saw all of this maturity and coming of age that took place in Archie, joy filled her heart but she was able to sing her sad song to the close so as to complete the process and keep the king unaware. At the close of the song a deep silence returned to the court as though everyone was digesting the feast of notes that had just been sung.

It was one of the six lower ranking officials on lesser thrones that noticed the transformation in Archie. He let out an almighty shriek of terror but by now it was too late. Responding to the cry, Key-ran turned around as fast as lightning to see what was the matter. Maturity and strength met him and turned his face a lighter shade a grey, a ghostly grey, beyond the very reaches of colour itself. The sight of Archie's transformation that met his eyes sucked all the remaining strength from his bones and though he remained standing was but dust blown about the court. This would be the last time that Destiny would sing him her locked up lament. He was speechless before the man that still stood at the foot of his throne. It was in fact Destiny who was to speak next or rather sing next but this time it was of her own free will. Her song was simple:

" I called for a man in the dead of night
and one hearkened to my cry.
My hero, my champion
The prison chords he does untie."

She sung it again and again each time driving home some sort of victory blow or ringing the bells of liberty in the land to further reinforce her truth. On the third bold and fierce proclamation, the man Archie lifted his staff into the air. The spears that once looked so dangerous at the sides of the guards now flew away out of their grasp and stuck to the back wall as though it became magnetic and the weapons were tiny iron filings. Turning and pointing the staff at Key-ran, Archie focused his gaze upon this evil impostor and flung the king into his throne so fast that he stuck there and seemed to be winded. Key-ran's look of sheer terror moved into a realm beyond words and was indescribable. He was about to speak but was unable, his lips glued fast and his screams were muffled to a dull din. He writhed as though in agony but could do nothing. Archie then paused again, he looked intently at the king and then to all who were in the court, His voice was deep and yet came with authoritative clarity

"I have come for Destiny and I will not leave without her."

His words were weighty. This by now well-known phrase ran out throughout the vast room once more but this time it was accompanied by action. Archie pointed his staff toward the cage. Without speaking another word, the chain which held the cage suspended, began to slowly move and the pulley system lowered it to the floor. Once grounded, the doors flew open allowing Destiny the liberty to step forth. Archie came to accompany her out of this empty shell. He took her by the hand. As he drew near her, he too was immediately held by her beauty but responded so differently to all those who had gone before. He looked at her affectionately but did not wish to make her his prize. She could not be contained, moulded or shaped and her power could not be harnessed the way a farmer would harness a horse to plough his field. Maternal eyes poured out their gratitude toward Archie and she whispered in his ear.

"Thank you."

"No," replied the adult Archie somewhat taken aback. "Thank you."

With that brief exchange the two freed prisoners walked slowly hand in hand down the length of the hall. Not a soul moved. Once again the room was motionless finding itself open wide in wonder. No resistance could meet or match the authority that now flowed like the river towards the doors, the last looming out post of such a prison. It seemed to be an eternity ago when Archie had at first fearfully travelled in to such odds and obstacles stacked against him. Now they had been overthrown. Everything seemed different. Everything that is except the tiny yet faithful tap of the staff, confidently striking the floor at regular slow intervals. They didn't need to touch the doors of the castle on their way out, no, they bowed open by themselves with screeching and creeking as though voicing a last taunt of disgust and futile resistance. Anyway, the pair were now out into a world that was slowly waking to dawn's light and the birth of a new day. They were free.

Instead of being greeted by They, who had at first set Archie on such a voyage and plotted the course of such a castle adventure, they were met by another familiar figure looming large in majesty. The Stag stood at the end of the cobbled walkway into the castle. Drawing nearer to him, Destiny unclasped her hand from Archie's and she knelt down on the ground, her long white dress flowing round her. Archie likewise, with some mild hesitant look of foolishness, did the same but the Stag moved forward and with his eyes he motioned them both to stand. The Stag and Destiny seemed to be happy at being reunited and looked fondly at one another as though they were old friends. Turning his attention to Archie, deep eyes that had met the humbled boy in the forest now congratulated the man in the midst.

They found themselves once again looking intently into one another's eyes with a gaze that lasted longer than a mere glance. All awkwardness in Archie was by now far from him. From this deep place, a question arose in his heart that was voiced by the heart of the stag,

" Do you know who you are?"

"Yes," replied Archie's heart without missing a beat. "I am a son of Destiny. She is my mother and I am her child."

"You have done well in this discovery Archie but it goes even deeper than Destiny."

The Stag's words were the weightiest Archie had ever felt before. They came so strong that they banished the rationality that said that hearts and stags couldn't speak. The Stag continued

"First of all, know that you are held and deeply loved. This will be the greatest source of authority in your all life. Love."

While still managing to hold Archie's eye, the Stag illuminated the staff that was still in his hand. Archie began to see all that had gone before in a strange and revealing new light. He understood all that the Stag spoke. It was love that had held him and indeed carried him when he was overcome by fear and couldn't go on. It was love that provided the rhythm, the balance and the bravery.

"You have done so well to rescue Destiny, Archie. You will see her again from time to time, of this you can be certain. For now though you will need to be heading back, for dawn is fast approaching and there is a life to be lived."

With that abrupt commission the Stag motioned Destiny to leap up upon his back. The two stood looking at Archie who wasn't sure if he could move from the spot on which he was found. A little laugh that was marinated in respect and gratitude came from Destiny and it seemed to awaken Archie to the new instructions that had just been given to him. The Stag slowly lowered his head, tipping his antlers down as though bidding Archie farewell. With a majestic leap and surge forward the Stag vanished along the path with Destiny riding upon his back holding onto his antlers. Archie knew that his journey was to take him in the opposite direction and where the Stag took a right, he was to take a left and return to the riverbank where his boat sat waiting.

Light was trying it's best to move between the trees, in the faintness the shadows were being broken up as if asked to find alternative accommodation. All sense of being watched had vanished. The surveillance cameras, or whatever they had been, had been destroyed. There was a different feeling throughout the forest, as though it was breathing a sigh of relief; every leaf, every twig and every blade of grass found new capacity to take sharp intakes of life. The heat through the ground was still there, bringing a gentle warmth, married with the scent of wild and exotic flowers that by now were bursting forth in abandon even though it was still dark.

They spoke of a carnival of colour and all were invited to party. Archie ultimately didn't seem to take note of all of this, he was once again overwhelmed with the sense of speed with which he retraced his swift steps over the by now familiar terrain. There were moments where he was moving so speedily that he began to wonder if his feet were actually touching the ground at all. With streamlined precision, he said farewell to the loch and forged through the bottleneck of trees and cut open the clearing. Then, nearing the river and seeing the familiar sight of the boat still nestling in at the shore, something remarkable happened. It was as though he stepped through open French windows that had been placed there on the forest path. He passed through what seemed to be silk white curtains wafting in a breeze. All that surrounded him went into slow motion and his speed ebbed away to nothing. The frame freezed. It would appear that the Archie the man would not be leaving this place the same way that he, as a boy, had found it. A portal had opened and he had gone through.

Sights, sounds and smells o' so familiar to him came excitedly to meet him when Archie next opened his eyes. Swirls of Artex, and white, flaking paint peered down at him from the ceiling of his little box bedroom. He lay there, in his little bed, deadly still and then kicked the covers to see if they were real. They were. The small boy Archie rubbed little eyes that were trying hard to readjust to the full light of day and the world he now found himself in again.

He lay with the sound of the river slowly moving past outside on its laborious journey to the sea. Memories, like the fast flowing waters of the rocky rapids upstream where the river was born, came crashing over Archie's mind as he remembered and recounted the tale just told. Everything was so vivid. The Stag, the boat, the warm ground, the forest, the castle, They, Key-ran and Destiny. It was all so real, he thought that he was still a fully-fledged man cramped up in this boy's bed. But no, Archie was a boy again and all he had was memories. He lay still for another good while and then ventured to open his venetian blinds for a second time in the last eight hours. He propped himself up by the windowsill and then boldly pulled at the chord. The same scene as the night before met him but with not nearly as much excitement.

The river rambled on, there was no boat tied up at the jetty and the bright light of day stung at his shrunken eyes. His window was still to be found slightly open and, in a repeat performance, he peeked his head out of his box stall at the stables. This horse could find nothing untoward however, no matter how hard he tried, even his footprints on the wet grass outside his window had vanished. Archie gave a long sigh, paying tribute to the memory. His lungs inflated and his nostrils made a funny whirring sound as cold air rushed in and out through the hairs inside his nose. Just as he was about to relegate last night's adventure into the realm of dreams a familiar figure was seen coming out of the forest on the far bank of the river.

The stag stood on the small patch of open farmland and let out the most intense roar and bellow. He was like the monarch of the glen come to assert his rule and reign over all the other beasts in the field. Though he was far off, he once again caught Archie in the look of his eye. Archie's ears were pinned back by the deep roar and his heart again was opened. Smiling eyes tipped a brown head forward and glorious antlers bowed low before the stag, nimble on his feet, returned to the depths woven amongst tall trees.

[Lubesh]

I'v edited this, just waiting for the correct category. Excellent story and well written. A good story to read to someone.

[rjd_39]

Originally Posted by lubesh

I'v edited this, just waiting for the correct category. Excellent story and well written. A good story to read to someone.

Thank oyu for your comment. It had mistakes as I tried to write it quickly.

[demon]

i like your story so far. im not done reading it but i like how its moving along. you pay close attention to certain details and thats a plus. your a good writer in my book so keep it up guy.