Discover your Cornwall
Cornwall accommodation
Arts and Culture
Activity Holidays
Our Business Services
genius loci
Folklore & Tales of Magic
 |
THE SPRIGGINS OF THE MOOR Copyright C Stevens 2005 |
It was the peace following the dreadful five hundred year war between the Elves and the Trolls. The fairy folk had almost disappeared from the land; the goblins and Pixies were in a terrible state.
Deep in a place called the Cot valley lived a group of folk entirely different from all the other little people.
These folk were the Spriggins, and so some said they once lived deep underground and had mined the precious metals for all the Fairy folk.
Bright tin and warm golden brown copper they mined, and harvested the shiny steel for the surface folk that peopled the land once called in the ancient tongue PENWITH.
They were an ancient folk indeed, older than even the clan of the Dragonfly that had lived here once. Quiet and well mannered were they in all things to do with trade; for the love of trade was the lifeblood of the clan.
The head of this clan was an old man who said he was so old he could remember the huge and terrible beasts that once walked upon the land and swam in the sea. He had had two wives and ten children, 100 grandchildren and even more great grandchildren.
The wives were no more, and all the children and grandchildren and great grandchildren were no more. He was the last of his clan and he was revered for his knowledge and his wisdom. These days he watched the younger members of the tribe as they worked at the metal making and mixing, for the secret of the metals was bound up in his beard.
He taught the young ones all the secrets of the precious tin and copper, which when mixed made the hard bronze from which all things came, from things to drink from and eat off, to plough the land and sharp tools to form the wooden things they used.
The old enemy man had once stolen this secret from the clan when they lived deep underground, and he had never forgiven the race of man for that since the wicked deed had happened. Now his clan’s tribal guardian Dragon, the mighty Mortlaok guarded the secret day and night. This was a terrible dragon and not even the Trolls would dare to rouse his temper; but to the Spriggins he was as gentle as a new born lamb.
And so we begin our tale of how the Trolls became banished forever to the dark and terrible middle moors of Penwith, and how they were cursed forever to carry the warts of the toad, and the hairy face of the humble hedgehog.
The enemy of the Troll king. [top of this page]
It was a fine winters day in the land of Penwith, and the elder of the clan, Finnegan, was climbing the high hill that was once a mighty volcano, the hill known as TRENCROM; to visit his friend and keeper of the secrets. This was the terrible Dragon Mortloak, who was the oldest dragon in the land. In his prime was he, his scales shone like burnished gold and the colours of the Rainbow were in his wings. His feet glistened with bronze claws and the wisdom of all the ages shone from his red eyes.
Mortlaok killed all save the tribe of the Spriggins, whom he loved beyond time. The day was fine and cold, and the breath from Finnegan’s nostrils was like a cloud around the top of a mountain as he climbed ever higher. He passed his tribes cattle as he climbed, then the goats and at last all he could see were the little furry creatures that lived high up on the slopes of TRENCROM. The ground here was black and burnt from the dragon when he sneezed, for when a dragon sneezed the fire whooshed from his long nose and burnt all before him. Finnegan paused in his climb to catch his breath, for although TRENCROM was not a mountain it was very high and steep.
"That Dragon likes to sneeze" he mumbled in his beard, and smiled to himself. This sneezing habit of dragons could be dangerous indeed to one who would talk with them. Finnegan had nothing to fear from him however, for the dragon was an old and trusted friend to him.
He had found the dragon when just hatched from the egg his mother had laid, when the mighty and terrible beasts that walked upon the land and swam in the oceans ruled the continents.
One of these huge monsters had walked on the eggs and crushed all save Mortlaok, and Finnegan who was then a young and brave warrior of the Spriggins had rescued the tiny Dragonet from certain death, for they knew nothing of the world when first hatched.
The Spriggins then lived deep underground, and mined the precious metals and wondrous stones that were there. Chief among these at that time where the beautiful Moonstones, for they glowed with a wonderful clear light in the dark, and all manner of fairy folk desired them to brighten the nights.
It was his task to trade these magic stones for the things the Spriggins needed, thus he had been on just such a mission when he had watched the tiny Mortlaock hatch from the egg, and had loved the Dragonet from that instant on.
The little one had to learn to control his fire however, and by the time Finnegan had returned to his tribe his leathern jacket was full of holes burnt by the little one sneezing!
Young fierce warrior and dragonet grew together in friendship. Finnegan told him all he knew of Dragons, as did the elders of his tribe. The tiny dragon grew quickly, for it is not generally known that Dragons need love and tender care to grow strong and true. He would play with the young Spriggins all day, and at night he and Finnegan slept in the chamber cut from the warm living rock that Finnegan called home.
Thus for seventy thousand years had these two been friends. Finnegan had grown to be a well-respected elder of his tribe and clan, and Mortlaok had reached his prime at last and had many children to call his own.
Indeed it was directly due to Finnegan and his clan the tribe of beasts called Dragon had survived at all, for another sort of being had sought to kill all dragons. These where the Trolls, a fierce tribe who cared nothing for anything that was not a troll, but feared Dragons with a fear that ran deep within them.
As Finnegan rested he could hear the dragon above him in the clouds around the top of mighty Trencrom.
"FINNEGAN!" a mighty voice roared down to him, and clouds of fire belched down the slope and melted the clouds away.
"Finnegan" came the voice again, only softer this time, " I see you have grown older my friend, your beard is to your knees and you lean on a stick! Is age now bending the once strong back?"
Finnegan Laughed up to the fearsome face that looked down at him. The dragons face was streaked with brilliant Vermillion and Cobalt blues, and shiny greens around the eyes and cheeks that reflected the sunlight in exquisite flashes of green and blue light.
Mortlaok cocked his head on one side and smiled a dragon smile at his old friend.
"It was ever the way of Dragons to jest with Spriggins, and you grow mighty indeed while I struggle up to see you again." Finnegan told him, still puffing.
"Yes my old friend, I am old now but you, you are beautiful, you gleam and you grow as Dragons should; and my heart is full of love and pride for you today!" And Finnegan rested on his stick to gaze at his friend.
The Dragon came from his lair and gently made his way to Finnegan, and stretched out his foot to him.
"Climb up to my neck Finnegan and we shall fly for a time as we used to, and swoop over the ocean to see the middle islands, then we shall return again and sit together for a while. It has been a long time since we have flown together!"
"Oh my old friend, I would that I could" Finnegan told him, and a tear rolled down his whiskered cheek.
"I have grown too old to face the cold wind of your flight, you are too mighty and strong for me to play with you, and that makes my heart heavy today."
Finnegan gazed on his old friend with a fond look, and the dragon put his head down to Finnegan’s feet, patiently like a dog will when it wants to be loved by his friend and master.
He looked down his long nose at him while Finnegan held his scaly nose close with a fierce hug born of love.
The two friends had no need of words between them because of the love and trust they had for each other. The huge Mortloak and the tiny Spriggin looked out of time and place, yet was this precious thing between them.
At last the dragon rustled his long tail, and made the rocks of Trencrom rumble as he did so.
He raised his huge head and sparks of brilliant coloured light flew around the hillside.
"Finnegan, I can feel the sadness within you old friend, what is it that saddens you so?"
Finnegan stroked the massive bronze claw of his beloved friend, and gazed up at his beautiful face, for in a dragon’s terrible countenance yet there is a beauty as well. This is why Dragons are revered in the land of Penwith.
"The young of my clan pester me for stories about us, how we fought the Trolls and other things, but several thousand years lie between then and now." He paused and stroked the huge scaly claw again, then gazed back up at his friend the mighty Mortlaock.
"I have come to beg my friend to remind me of those days, my memory is not so good these days; a bit like my legs I feel. They tremble with the strain of the climb up here to you, and I am ashamed of this."
"Climb up on my foot old friend, and I shall put you on my neck and we will go together to my lair. I have some fine honeydew there made by my own sweet number three wife. Sterennyck is her name, it means little star in the ancient tongue and she is a treasure to me."
Finnegan climbed wearily up on his friend’s giant foot, and was lifted through the air like a dandelion seed floats on the breeze. He climbed from the paw to his friend’s neck and nestled under a huge scale, where he could feel the mighty life force of the Dragon’s heartbeat, and was honoured to think his friend could trust him so; for this was the ONLY vulnerable point of a dragon.
Gently the huge beast made his way up to his lair, through the clouds until at last the brilliant sunshine made Finnegan squint in the pure white light. The Sun warmed his old bones and he felt better as the Dragon gently made his way up the path. Scattered around were bones, huge mounds of them piled like children’s toys
cast aside and forgotten in play.
"Mortloak! Do you now kill all you see?" Finnegan gasped.
He felt the rumble of laughter as the Dragon puffed little clouds of fire and smoke in merriment.
"No my old friend, not at all! As you know a true Dragon has no need of nourishment at all, at least only that of love and affection such as you and your kind have always given to me and mine." And he rumbled with merriment again.
"No my friend this has been collected by the little hatchlings and by my wives, to warn off those unwise enough to approach my lair!"
Finnegan gazed at the huge piles of bleached white bones scattered around and could not see how anyone would never have the courage to trespass up here!
The warm life force had eased considerably the pain in his old bones, for such is the magic of Dragons.
At last the cave of Mortlaok was reached, and Finnegan could see how lavish was the lair of his friend. The walls were encrusted with sparkling jewels that reflected the light in a million tiny points. The floor was of warm red rock, worn smooth and shiny by Dragon’s feet through the millennia. The roof was bright green azurite that glistened mysteriously yet gave a pale green light.
Mortloak must have seen his friend’s expression and he told Finnegan that;
" This was all my own sweet Sterennyck’s work, for she said I might be all that is said about me but she shall have a nice cave for the little ones to grow in." He rumbled with affection at the name of his wife.
Still the huge Dragon walked on, through halls that glistened with blue Sapphire and red Ruby,
Purple Amethyst white moonstones. Finnegan clapped his hands in delight at the wonderment of it all, for did not his own clan mine these precious stones for the Dragon and all of fairey land? Thousands of years of mining were here on these huge walls, and still the way led on.
At last Mortlaok halted and called out in a soft affectionate voice.
"Sterennyck, Sterennyck my own sweet wife, I bring you the lord Finnegan whom I have often spoken to you about. Gather the hatchlings to you that he may see our latest brood my love."
A glow lit the far end of a huge cavern, and a gentle rustling noise was heard and a soft voice was heard admonishing the hatchlings.
" We have a new brood my friend, and even I must have a care with her for she is so protective with them. But still! We are here and you can now approach her in perfect safety for she knows all about you and your clan."
Mortlaok gently lifted the diminutive Finnegan from his warm safe place on the mighty neck, and placed him on the floor, which was warm to the bare feet of the Spriggin. He could hear squeaks and rustling, and a trembling through the floor of the lair. At last the most beautiful sight came into view. It was the gorgeous Sterennyck and she had been well named. She was of the purest silver colour, and walked with such grace it was very hard to gaze upon her!
Flashes of purple and pale green ran all over her beautiful silver scales. Her lovely face shone with love for her lord Mortlaok, and even there her bright purple eyes were set in amongst scales of the brightest golden hue. She unfolded her wings and flashes of all the rainbow hues were reflected from the walls of the lair. Under her wings four tiny faces peeped out in trepidation at the visitor.
Sterennyck lowered her head and Finnegan could see her gorgeous eyelashes that were as soft as a summer cloud.
She put her nose to the ground in the manner of the Dragon kind in affectionate greeting.
"MY lord Finnegan, at last I can greet you!" she spoke in silver tones. "My lord Mortloak has often talked of you and how you saved him from the mighty beasts that walked the land. You are an honoured guest here in this hall, as all your clan shall be forever with our children."
She lifted one the Dragonets from her back and gently placed her in front of Finnegan.
"My lord, this one is called Eulalia, which is dragon for sweetly speaking. Eulalia, go and fetch my lord Finnegan some of the honeydew I made last night, he must be thirsty if he has been talking with your father. He can talk the back leg from the star Dragon himself!"
Finnegan smiled as Mortlaok rumbled behind him. Sterennyck lowered her lovely lashes and asked Finnegan,
"My lord Finnegan, I would present to you the rest of our Hatchlings if it would please you?"
Finnegan thought his heart would burst with love for such a beautiful Dragon, and he went on one knee to her and told her,
"MY good friend Mortloak is fortunate to have as mate such as you. You are the very essence of the dragon, and your beauty is unsurpassed. I would bend my knee to no other but you, and your kind are welcome whatever we have."
Finnegan could hear Mortlaok’s wings rustling with pleasure, and he could see by the flashes of pure lightning that rushed all over Sterennik that she was delighted.
"My lord, do you take your ease while I present to you the future of our kind. Please, do sit on the couch here. It was for the young to rest upon when tired."
She indicated a low stone bench covered in soft downy fur that Finnegan knew had been plucked from her own under pelt, beneath the silver scales. As he sat wearily on the soft downy fur the little dragonet reappeared carrying a silver goblet full of the magic honeydew, that marvellous drink only a dragon knows how to make.
Eulalia shyly gave the drink to Finnegan, and instantly he had the drink she ran to her mother and hid behind her front leg, and daringly peeped from behind to watch as he drank. Finnegan felt at peace at last as he gazed at his old friends happiness.
"Mortloak you are indeed a fortunate being to have such as these to lighten your day. My eyes grow old and weary and my arm is not as it once was." He paused to look at his oldest friend.
"I have come to you today to ask if you will remind this old man of the old days, of the tales the fairie folk once told their children about us
and the adventure we had together."
He drank of the refreshing clear golden liquid that shimmered with a wonderful radiance as the cup moved in Finnegan’s hand.
"Oh my old friend my days are numbered now, and the young of my clan want to hear all the old tales and battles we had together, but my memory is not as keen these days. However all the clans of the little people know a dragon’s memory like his love never dies and never grows dim. I beg of you to remind me one tale at a time so I may go down the slope of old Trencrom and tell them of our deeds so they will revere and love you as I do."
Exhausted by the climb and the excitement Finnegan felt his limbs grow slack and the honeydew began to work its magic on him. Soon he snored loud and clear and Mighty Mortloak looked down on his friend and told his mate the beautiful Sterennyk to
" Cover him so he can rest, my precious one, then gather the little ones to you and I shall retell the old stories for you all. Finnegan shall hear them in his sleep and remember them for he has drunk of the honeydew."
Sterennyk moved to cover Finnegan but little Eulalia was there first, and she gently covered the little old Spriggin herself with her own fur cloak that her sweet mother had made for her. She dashed back to her giant mother who gazed down upon her fondly, and as Sterennyk curled her long tail around her and held the little Dragonets close to her, Mortloak paced up and down to find a suitable place to begin.
Finnegan moved in his sleep and mumbled to himself,
"The Trolls at the moon dance!"
And that is exactly where the mighty Mortloack began his first story………
THE RAEDWULF (COUNCIL OF THE WOLVES) [top of this page]
Mortlaok settled himself at last on the warmest piece of floor stone he could find and gazed fondly at his mate and their children, gave a little puff of fire as he cleared his throat and began.
"It was the time of the first Raedwulf" he said, "The council of the wolves, a very grand name for a meeting of all kind of enchanted faery folk."
Now dragons have a certain kind of magic, and Mortlaok began to weave this enchantment now. To all those in that bejewelled cavern the mists of time rolled away and all there found themselves gazing at a noisy meeting of hundreds of the enchanted folk of the moor.
"Of course" Mortlaok explained, " They could not all speak at the council, only the respected kings of each tribe could do this of course. There was the one and only Reeol, the ancient king of them all. It was he who had summoned all to this meeting, for the faery folk were in danger of extinction if the destructive wars among them continued." Magically the venerable Reeol appeared to them, dressed in cloth of gold and his hose and boots of the very finest, softest greensward, his beard was long and snow white, and the crown upon his head told all present that he and he alone was THE king over all. His crown gleamed and glistened, and sparks of magical light sparked from it.
His eyes were globes of brightest blue, and his haughty demeanour was that of an assured King indeed. In his hand he carried a staff of ancient Willow, it was so old no one could remember when it had been carved or the tree that gave it up for him. The staff was carved with all manner of symbols, and its power was well known.
None there would dare to anger the old King while he held this staff.
Now the leader of the trolls stepped forward, in those times the Trolls were not the ugly creatures they are today, rather they were handsome indeed. Fine of face and limb, they carried themselves with arrogant pride, and were responsible for most of the petty wars among the folk of the moor.
"Branwalther, or the Raven leader was a dangerous sly adversary, the only thing he cared about in all the kingdom was to gain power over all. Indeed he thought HE should be the king instead of the venerable REEOL; and to this end he had plotted to kill the old King at this very meeting" Mortlaok explained to his mate and young ones, and they could see as clear as day the group gathered there on the moor in the old circle of stones. Outside the stones were hundreds of other faery folk, all gathered to listen and watch their respective Kings debate the future.
Mortlaok continued. "Tanguy or the Fire dog had allied his tribe of Piskies with the King of the Fairies, Sulyen or Sun born, and a very powerful alliance it was" The mists became golden and showed the two leaders standing together, and a handsome elegant pair did they present to all.
Tanguy the Fire dog Piskie was dressed all in resplendent red, from his soft leathern boots to the tall pointed cap he wore. His face told of merriment and mischief, laughter as well. He was wise though; some felt he was wise beyond understanding.
Sulyen or the Sun born was well named. He was dressed as a Fairy should be, in clothes of the purest gleaming light, that only the fairies knew how to make. The moon and stars shone in his wings, which were shot through with the brightest of reds and purple, green and magical cobalt. A magnificent sight I can tell you.
Caswal or battle powerful was there to represent the gnomes of the land. Fierce warriors these folk indeed, and well respected. Long pointed ears they had, and sharp pointed faces. Dressed in the pale blue of their Royal leaders they feared no-one at all but they respected the law of the folk, and the word of the old king. Indeed they formed a part of his royal court as warrior attendants.
And last of all was my lord asleep there on the couch, Finnegan the spokes person for the Spriggin’s. Although a mere youth of 1,000 years he had earned his place by his trading and his standing as a warrior among his people. Now the mists cleared again to show a fine Spriggin, tall for his race and well set on his muscular legs. Dressed all over in black velveteen with a black cap sporting a gorgeous green feather on his curly brown hair. And there at his back am I, your Father. Although only a stripling of 500 years Finnegan had insisted I accompany him and meet all the folk of the moor. It was Finnegan who gave me my egg name, Mortlaok the dragon king!
He it was who strode through the council gathering and called for silence, and then he summoned me to meet the elders of the respective tribes and clans. Mortlaok turned to his beautiful mate and explained to her.
"I was young and inexperienced in those days my dear. I thought a Dragon could play all day and night with not a thought to his place in the world, or the reverence that some hold us in. But our friend here knew different, he knew I was secretly feared, and some wanted me dead!" He paused here and his face grew dark with anger, little tongues of flame shot from those mighty nostrils at the memory.
"Finnegan knew all this, and indeed he had been educating me in Dragon lore at least all he knew of it. All my siblings had died when that mighty beast had killed and eaten our mother, and crushed the nest. I was but just hatched and could hardly move for fear, when this creature dressed in black rushed in and snatched me up and ran with me in his arms from under the very jaws of death!"
"The beast had seen him do this, but he ran and dodged him until at last he could put me safe in a cave. He then turned upon the beast and shot his poison arrows at it until the beast left us!"
"To this day I am in awe of that time. The beast could not have felt even one of those tiny arrows, yet Finnegan stood there at the mouth of that cave and fired all his arrows at the monster!
A sleepy murmur came from the couch as Finnegan tossed in his sleep.
"I did not fire all my arrows you great buffoon! For I was so scared I dropped more then I could string upon my bow. He was indeed a mighty beast, and only the great Mortlaok could tell such a tale so tall it reaches the clouds!" Finnegan turned over and began to snore very loudly.
Mortloak smiled a Dragon smile at his friend’s words.
"Sterennyk my dear, on the sacred oath of our love I swear all of that is true indeed. He was a true hero that day but has always denied it, such is the character of the Spriggin"
Mortlaok continued:
"As I said my dear, there were those who feared Dragon kind, and with good reason! These were the ones who smashed our eggs and poisoned our young with treachery. Finnegan decided that for their own good they should meet and talk with a real live dragon, one raised by the Spriggins! After all this WAS the LOWDY, the place and day to talk to your enemies."
"I can see him now as spoke to the gathering there, and at last summoned me into the circle of the stones. Reeol was very generous to me and called for silence for me and to hear Finnegan to speak. Although the trolls were very rebellious they feared the magic of his staff and listened to him as he spoke. You see in that circle and with that staff none would dare to defy him or desecrate the sacred Lowdy."
The mists now cleared to show a silent circle of faerie folk, in the circle of huge ancient stones. In the very middle of this circle stood a figure in black, stood right in front of a huge beast glorious in his colours of wing and body, and on his face ran the colours that he wore now, the marks of the Dragon King. Finnegan was speaking, and faint at first then stronger his voice came to those who gazed in awe at the magical apparition.
He was gesturing with his black clad arm first to the crowd watching, then to his huge friend, and back to the crowd.
"What he said that day my loved ones I will never forget, for he meant every word of what he said." Mortlaok rumbled
The radiant cloud grew brighter and bigger, until the figures of Finnegan and the Dragon with the crowds of Fairie folk behind them seemed to fill the Cavern in front of the audience watching in breathless anticipation. The Spriggin now stood tall and straight, his beard curled with the spring of youth.
He stood proud and fearless, his gaze straight and without guile or cunning. He began his speech to the assembly of kings. First he turned to the Reeol, as custom decreed he should.
"Mighty King, I have brought here today for all to see the Only surviving Dragon from the nest of his mother. The Dragon Queen BENNATH, or the blessing, as she was known in the Dragon tongue. His father was the mighty CADOR the warrior King of ALL Dragon kind. Upon his face he carries the Royal colours for all to see, and from the clan of Spriggin’s he has learned not to fear the Fairie folk." Finnegan paused here to gaze at the audience he now held spellbound, for all the tribes loved a tale well told and the Spriggin’s were past masters of that art. Not a whisper or a cough was heard, and even the huge Mortlaok was held in rapture at his own story so told. Satisfied that he had them all Finnegan continued his story.
"I witnessed the terrible fight between the Queen and her foe, the terrible thunder Lizard, he of the thousand teeth!" A collective gasp shot around the Fairie folk, and sent a shiver of fear down the backs of all those listening. Now even the noisy traders trying to sell the sweetmeats and trinkets had stopped to listen, and even the children of the different tribes forgot their differences and clung to the legs of the mothers.
The beasts he spoke of had long been dead; all of them, but the legends lived on. Mothers now used their name to scold the children and get them to bed; but the terrible fear of them was still deep within all those present. Satisfied Finnegan continued: " He had killed and eaten Cador days previous, and had been looking for the nest of his enemy. The Queen was alone but she fought a terrible battle to protect her precious eggs lying in her nest.
Her lord King had fought the beast for five days and nights until he died of his wounds, for the bite of the thunder lizard is of the most terrible poison as all here remember. The lady Bennath fought like a banshee but to no avail.
For two days and nights she fought without rest, and I could hear the hatchlings calling to her from within the eggs. The thunder lizard had heard them also, and he stirred a terrible rage within him and killed the lovely Bennath." Finnegan paused here and gazed around him, and to those in the sacred jewelled cavern he seemed to gaze right at the young Dragonets, and he smiled! Of course it was their mighty father working his magic for them, but they all squealed with delight at that.
Finnegan stirred upon his couch, and pulling his flowing beard ever closer around him he mumbled,
"Mortlaok, you ever were a tall teller of tales and even better at magic! Do not scare the young ones so with my image I beg you!" At those words the tiny Eulalia rushed to him, under his shimmering image that seemed to float in the jewelled cavern above them.
"My lord Finnegan" she squeaked as she climbed up to sit beside him " You are indeed a mighty Prince and my Father is so handsome, I cannot believe he would dare to embroider your story so!"
"Such youth was ever gullible Mortlaok, but she is beautiful indeed. You are so ugly she can only take after her sweet mother and she shall stay with me while the old story master there will continue!"
The little Dragonet curled herself under Finnegan’s beard and gave a satisfied sigh, and remembered just in time NOT to use fire! Sterennyk literally glowed with pride at her daughter’s show of affection for the Spriggin, and her lord Mortlaok puffed himself with pride. The vision of Finnegan grew stronger before them, and now even details of his black clothes could be seen, such as the silver buttons on his leathern doublet and the fine gold stitching his first wife had stitched there for him. The look of the warrior was plain to see on his face, but there was also the feeling of knowledge and understanding about him.
"Oh Mortlaok, you do embarrass me so, do get on with your tale instead of making me even bigger!" Finnegan scolded. And so Mortlaok continued with the tale of the RAEDWULF, or the counsel of the wolves.
THE RAEDWULF GATHERING OF THE KINGS [top of this page]
The image of Finnegan was now so strong and clear to those watching that they felt as thought they were present on that very day, even down to the breeze that ruffled Finnegans hair. Powerful indeed was Mortlaok’s magic that day.
Finnegan now stood with his hands on his hips and addressed the Kings. He had laid his bow and quiver of arrows at the feet of the old King, to show the honour in which he and all the Spriggin’s held him. The old King now bade him to continue and Finnegan went on.
"We need Dragons in our world, for do they not have all the magic of the ancient world bound up in their very being? Without them Fairie folk will perish as a race forever, and the world we now hold sacred will be a sad place without the gay laughter of our young and the chatter of our women watching the children play."
"Who" he asked as he turned to look at them all in the stone circle, "Who will bring you the moonstones to brighten the dark winter nights and frighten the hobgoblins away? Who will make the precious bronze copper and steel you need? Why the Spriggin race of course, for none of you would go deep underground to do this. Down there it is hot! So hot you would melt and die. And so black you would not see the very hand as it touches your nose! But here the moonstones lie, and they need to have a moon magic worked upon them so as they can glow for you all." Finnegan paused again and looked at the old King as he sat there totally enthralled in his story.
"My lord King, it is told in Spriggin tales that it was a Dragon that chose the Spriggin’s to do this work for all Fairie folk, to mine the precious stones of power and make the metal that we lay beneath your feet each year as tribute."
A gasp went up from the crowds, for this was not generally known and Finnegan halted to let the news sink in. At last he could go on.
"Yes, we gained our knowledge from the elder dragon of all, the all powerful Iudheal, which is generous Lord in the Dragon tongue. He chose us for his own reasons, and since that day the Spriggin race has served the folk of the land faithfully! And we seek to do so today, for if this mighty Dragon is not accepted here today then will you all call him outcast, and the Spriggin clan will no longer serve the ways of the Fairie folk. You will not have any new Moonstones to brighten your darkness, and no healing blue metal for your ease from the agues that beset you!"
The crowd were beginning to realise just what the loss of trade with the Spriggin clan would mean to them all, and now fear was within the ranks of fairie bodies.
"The clan to which I belong Honour the Dragon kind, for all of us need them in our world." Suddenly the leader of the Trolls The Branwalther or Raven leader rudely interrupted him with a mighty curse. He leapt from his seat onto the green grass of the stone circle, his face dark with rage and ugly with the need to harm the spriggin.
This was entirely possible because The troll was very large and powerful indeed, but he held his ground and made no move towards Finnegan for even he feared the power of that staff the old king wielded in the circle of stones.
"SPRIGGIN" He bellowed, "I shall tell you now you will not cease your trade with the trolls, even though we hate that Dragon there behind you!" And he pointed at Mortlaok. Now this was a dire thing to do! No one ever pointed at another unless they promised him harm, and here was the troll King pointing at a Dragon as though he had no fear of him!
"I speak for all Trolls without question, and I say you shall not take away the moonstones from us, and I promise death to the Dragon when he leaves this gathering!"
A murmur of fear ran through the crowd, and Mortlaok stirred. He rose to his feet for he had been lying on the ground as his friend and mentor had advised him to do. Now he rose to his feet and showed again his true height. He made even the massive standing stones look small as he seemed to just keep on getting bigger. His anger showed in the colours flashing all over his golden coloured scales. He pointed his nostrils to the sky and gave vent to a mighty blast of white-hot fire.
So huge was this blast of fire it melted the white clouds above his head, and they disappeared instantly. He then lowered his head to look directly into Branwalther’s eyes. He spoke to him in a low menacing voice even though he sounded like thunder on a summers day.
"They call you the Branwalther, or Raven Leader" He spoke to all but especially Branwalther. "Have you forgotten what a dragon could do to your Tribe? I can melt you and all your clan here and now Branwalther, and as for what the Spriggin says it is true, very true.
If they stop trading with you all that will be their decision, but remember one thing all of you.
They need to trade as much as you need them to bring you the things they have! Without trade they will starve and die and then who will mine the precious stones and metals for you? The race of man perhaps? I think not for man fears the fairie folk, after he stole the secret of the metal mixing from the Spriggin’s and tried to kill them all." He turned to gaze at Reeol, the ancient king, and spoke directly to him this time.
"My lord king, I greet you as one king to another. I am the only king of my kind and after me there is no other to follow yet." As he said that there was a sudden war cry and the Branwalther threw his glittering sword at Mortlaok! It flashed through the air as all stood petrified and rooted to the spot they stood upon.
The sword seemed to take forever as it flew through the air, but it was really just an instant.
In the bejewelled lair of Mortlaok the children gasped and the lovely Sterennyk gasped in horror at the vision, as the sword seemed to slice the very air towards her Lord King. The glittering weapon floated through the air and struck Mortlaok a mighty blow on his front leg, cutting right through the thick armoured scale and to the flesh beneath. It stayed there quivering in Mortlaok’s leg, and Mortlaok calmly bent down and plucked it gently free and placed it on the ground at Finnegan’s feet.
He spoke now to Finnegan,
"Finnegan, this sword is the only thing that can kill me, for it is made from Dragon bone and steel and I knew it the instant it struck me so. It is know yours."
The pure green blood trickled down his leg as he looked again at the Branwalther who was being consumed by rage and fear.
"You have abused the sanctity of the stone circle, the sanctity of the raedwulf on the day of the Lowdy. You have also shamed the Reeol, the ancient King present here today. I could swear an oath that I would hunt you all down one by one and put an end to Troll treachery."
The folk gathered there shivered in fear, because a dragons oath is only broken when he dies, and Dragons live forever. Mortlaok now spoke to Finnegan.
"Finnegan my trusted friend, is there still green blood on the sword?" In the shimmering vision the children watched as the young and handsome Finnegan his face dark with anger, picked up the sword and examined it. He looked up at his huge friend and the tears could be seen running down his face.
Mortlaok now spoke gently him.
"Finnegan, mix your tears with the blood, stir it with your fingers and thrust the sword deep into the earth and then stand back from it."
Finnegan looked up at his beloved friend and then nodded, and performed the task. When his tears and the green Dragon blood was mixed, it fizzed and bubbled and he lifted the sword high above his head. Before he struck the earth with the now magic blade he turned to face the Branwalther, who stood across the stone circle from him.
"Branwalther" He cried, "By the power of the Dragons blood and the steel of this blade, I swear to all here present today that I shall forever hunt your clan and wherever I shall find them then shall that be the last day they shall ever see!"
Finnegan thrust the blade deep into the green turf, bright with daisies. For a moment nothing happened, then a glow began at the very hilt of the sword, until the light coming from it was so bright it could not be looked upon.
Then it rose into the air to a height of an eye, and a vision began to appear. As the vision grew clearer the crowd shrank back in fear, for it was the Mother of all the world, she had been summoned by the green blood of Mortlaok and the tears of his friend.
The beautiful shimmering vision hung there, and a magical silvery voice was heard.
"Who has summoned me here from my work? Whose blood and whose tears have brought me across the span of time and for what reason? Speak now!"
Silence reigned and then the vision turned to face Mortlaok, and Finnegan realised Mortlaok was talking to the mother of all nature with just the power of his mind! A fleeting instant of time passed, and suddenly the vision turned to face the Branwalther.
She pointed at him and commanded him to step forward into the midst of the circle. As he did so Finnegan moved to pluck the sword from the earth but a voice in his head commanded him to "BE STILL" and he realised it was Mortlaok!
The Branwalther swaggered into the circle, full of bluff and bravado.
"You are the Branwalther, the Raven leader" the vision spoke to him.
"I am, and I have no fear of you or of anything or anyone here present, whether it should walk slither or fly, be it hairy or horned so what say you to that!"
The vision smiled at him as the gathered folk gasped in horror at his words.
"I have this to say to you Branwalther. From this day on you and your kind will be reviled by all folk, even the race of man! You shall be as you say, for you have no fear of those that slither and those who have hair and horn. Your fair countenance will from today be so reviled no one will ever look upon you again without the shudder of horror, and from your mouth shall you dribble and gibber, and you shall need the knuckles of your hands to help you move forever!
"SO SHALL IT BE" [top of this page]
Before the eyes of all the vision vanished, and the Branwalther and his followers began to change! The cries from them were piteous in the extreme but not one moved to offer aid, for they were each and everyone so ugly they could not even bear to look on each other.
AT last it was done, and they stood on all fours as the saliva drooled thick from their mouths, and spiky tufts of hair sprouted from hideous warts all over them.
The ancient King now rose to his feet and addressed all present.
"My people" He began "Today you have witnessed the power of the great Mother. I now banish the race of the Trolls from the kingdom of the fairie folk forever and a day. From this moment on all shall revile them and turn away from them all!"
As one being all present at that gathering turned away from the Trolls, who ran off screeching in the misery of their hideous nakedness.
The vision faded and the children all OOOHEd and AAAHEd as it did so. The mighty Mortlaok looked down upon his children and the loudly snoring Finnegan, and said to them,
"And that my dears was the very beginning of the end for the trolls. The 500 year war was yet to begin and the adventures we had together will keep for another day! As for now it is time for bed."
Little Eulalia snuggled into Finnegan’s beard and told him sleepily that
"I shall stay with my friend Finnegan tonight Father, in case he should wake and need something." And she was instantly asleep. Finnegan looked at his friend the mighty Mortlaok and winked at him, and cuddled her closer to his love.
THE END
