Challenge on the Hill of Fire Read online

  Patrick looked around. “I hope not,” he said nervously.

  Then Patrick thought of the druids. He remembered that some monsters were actually human.

  The woods opened up to a small clearing. A wooden cart with two oxen was there. In the back of the cart sat several men and women and a girl.

  The other people were all dressed in clothes like Patrick’s and Beth’s. Their hands and feet were tied too. They looked sad and scared.

  Patrick thought the girl looked about eight years old. She had curly red hair that fell down past her shoulders.

  Shane lifted Patrick into the cart. Then Beth. Next Shane and the old man with the gray beard climbed up to the front of the cart. They sat on a benchlike seat. Shane picked up a whip. He cracked it in the air.

  “Hey ya!” Shane shouted at the oxen.

  The oxen pulled. The cart moved forward through the mist and into the woods again.

  “Move closer to me,” Patrick whispered to Beth. “I’ll try to untie your hands.”

  She obeyed. Patrick dug at the rope with his fingers. It was hard, but Patrick loosened the rope. Beth slipped her hands out.

  “Now untie my hands,” Patrick said to Beth. He kept an eye on Shane and the old man in front. Beth got his hands free. Patrick felt the blood rush back into his hands.

  Patrick untied his ankles next. He helped Beth untie her ankles, too.

  The other slaves watched them with worried looks.

  Patrick whispered to the girl. “I’ll untie your ropes,” he said.

  “Leave my daughter alone, laddie,” said the man next to her. His voice was low. “The druids bound her, so bound she will stay.”

  “Why is everyone afraid of the druids?” Beth asked.

  “Do you not know, lassie?” the girl’s father asked in surprise. “The druids are the ones who brought us all here. It’s theirs to do powerful magic. It’s theirs to know the secrets of the gods.”

  God is the true God, Patrick thought. There is no other god. The Bible says to stay away from magic. It’s evil.

  “They’re not here now,” Beth said. “So why be afraid?”

  “Are you daft? Of course they’re here,” the girl’s father said. “Who do you think is driving the cart?”

  Ka-bump!

  One of the cart’s wheels bounced off a rock. Patrick fell against the side of the cart.

  Beth asked him, “What should we do now?”

  Patrick didn’t have a plan. He watched Shane and the old man. If they were druids, they looked like any other men. Just meaner.

  The cart traveled deeper into the woods. Thick fog hung all around them.

  “I’m Caera,” the red-haired girl whispered to Patrick.

  Patrick started to say, “I’m—”

  “Stop talking!” Caera’s father said in a sharp whisper.

  “Why aren’t you trying to escape?” Patrick whispered to the other prisoners.

  The Fallen Tree

  Caera’s father frowned. The rest didn’t say anything. One woman shook her head and began to cry.

  Caera spoke up. “The druids cast spells and put curses on anyone who resists them,” she said.

  “I don’t believe that,” Beth said.

  Just then the cart rolled out of the woods. A field and then more woods were ahead. The fog was still thick. Suddenly the cart jerked to a stop. A giant oak tree lay across the road. It was impossible to go on.

  The old druid with the long gray beard climbed down from the cart. Shane, the big one, followed him. Their flowing robes glowed ghostly white in the mist. They both walked around the fallen tree. The oxen stamped their feet.

  Dear God, Patrick prayed. Please help us!

  A red squirrel climbed up on the edge of the cart. It stared at Patrick, and then it jumped back down again. It scampered across the field toward the woods.

  Patrick’s eyes followed it. Then he noticed a stranger at the edge of the trees. He looked like a shadow in the fog. Patrick squinted. The figure looked like a young man. The squirrel climbed up his long brown robe and then perched on his shoulder.

  “Look,” Caera said to the other prisoners. They turned to look. “’Tis Tristan,” Caera whispered.

  Patrick wondered if Shane and the old man could see the stranger. Patrick could hear the men grunting as they tried to lift the fallen tree. He hoped they weren’t paying attention to anything else.

  “He’s not to be trusted,” Caera’s father said, frowning. “He’s a friend of the bishop.”

  “The bishop!” Patrick and Beth whispered together. Patrick’s heart leaped. Mr. Whittaker had said the bishop would help them.

  Beth nudged Patrick and nodded to the stranger. He was motioning for them to come to him in the woods.

  “Let’s go!” Patrick said. “Tristan wants us to escape!”

  Beth slipped down from the back of the cart first. Then Patrick followed.

  “Come on!” Patrick whispered to Caera.

  “I say not,” her father said. “If the druids see us running away, they may use their magic. They’ll turn us into beasts.”

  “They can’t do that,” Beth said.

  Patrick knew that arguing wouldn’t help. So he said, “If you stay here, you’ll stay enslaved. Or something even more terrible might happen to you.”

  Caera’s father frowned. He looked at his daughter. Then he nodded. “Caera may go with you,” he said.

  Patrick sighed with relief. He untied Caera’s wrists and ankles. Then he helped Caera climb down.

  Suddenly Caera pushed away from Patrick. “No,” she said. “I won’t go without my father.”

  Patrick glanced at Caera’s father. This was taking far too long. The two druids might come back at any moment.

  The father looked at his daughter. He sighed and nodded. Patrick and Beth quickly untied the ropes that bound him. He climbed over the cart’s side.

  “Hurry!” Beth whispered to the others. But they sat still, frozen in fear.

  Tristan motioned to them more urgently.

  Patrick kept an eye on the druids. They were still working on the tree. Then he led the other three toward Tristan. Beth tripped and fell over her long dress. Caera helped her back up.

  Just then the big druid Shane rounded the cart. “Stop!” he shouted at them.

  “Run!” Patrick said to his friends. They dashed into the woods.

  They approached Tristan in the woods. He didn’t speak to them. Instead, he turned and moved quickly ahead of them. They followed. The squirrel clung to Tristan’s shoulder.

  Soon they were standing on a strip of moist dirt and rocks. It looked like a dry creek bed. Tristan knelt on the dirt and closed his eyes.

  Is he praying? Patrick wondered.

  Patrick stepped up to him and knelt down to suggest they hide. Beth crouched next to him. Then Caera and her father joined them.

  “This is no place to hide,” Caera’s father said. “The druids will easily see us.”

  Tristan seemed to ignore him. Then he lifted his hands. “Lord,” Tristan prayed, “may You protect us as You protected the bishop. When the druids tried to capture the bishop and his friends, You showed them Your power. Like deer in the forest, they escaped from danger because of Your help.”

  There was a loud snapping of branches. Leaves crunched behind them. The big druid was coming!

  “Don’t move,” Tristan said.

  “Are you daft?” Caera’s father whispered.

  “Trust me,” Tristan said.

  Shane stepped out of the fog a little ways down the creek bed. He stopped and looked straight at them.

  Escape

  Shane stared directly at Beth. She froze as she was and waited for him to point and shout. He looked puzzled. Then he turned away as if he were still searching for them.

  The old man shuffled up to Shane. He seemed winded from the run. “Well?” the old man asked. His gaze went to Beth and the others.

  “The slaves aren’t here,” Shane said
to the old druid. “I see only those two bucks and their fawns.” He nodded toward Beth.

  “Shoot them for meat,” the old druid said.

  “There’s no time,” Shane said. He stepped away from the creek bed and disappeared. The old druid took one more look in Beth’s direction. Then he slowly followed Shane into the fog.

  Tristan stood up. The red squirrel made a harsh chattering noise. It sounded as if it were scolding the druids to stay far away.

  “Do be quiet, Finn,” Tristan said to the squirrel.

  The squirrel stopped its chatter.

  “Come!” Tristan said to the other three. “They’ll keep looking for you.”

  He led them down the creek bed.

  “What just happened?” Beth asked Tristan. “Why didn’t they see us?”

  “They saw us,” Tristan said. “But they didn’t see us as we are. God was merciful and allowed them to see something else.”

  “How is that possible, laddie?” Caera’s father asked.

  “With God, all things are possible,” Tristan said.

  “But you’re no druid. You’re one of the new faith,” Caera’s father said. “How is it that you do magic?”

  Tristan turned to him. “It’s not magic,” he said. “The power of God is greater than any of the druids’ little tricks.”

  Caera’s father looked as if he might say something. But he closed his mouth and looked away.

  “Are you a Christian?” Beth asked Tristan.

  “I’m a new follower of Christ and a convert of the bishop,” Tristan said.

  “Will you take us to the bishop?” Patrick asked.

  “I’m on my way to see him now. I stopped because I saw the druids had captured slaves,” he said. “You were wise to come with me. I wish the others had the same courage. I know of the druids’ terrible plans for you.”

  “Terrible plans?” asked Beth. “What were they going to do with us?”

  “Some of you would have been used as sacrifices,” Tristan said.

  “Sacrifices!” Patrick cried. “You mean, they would have put us on an altar and—”

  “The druids offer sacrifices to their god Cromm Cruaich each year at the festival,” Tristan said. “Only the sacrifice of innocent blood is acceptable. Then they believe the people will be granted peaceful lives. But the druids are liars. Their gods can never bring peace. You can find peace only when you believe in the one true God.”

  For a moment, Tristan seemed radiant. It was as if his words brought out a great light within him.

  “Did you cause the tree to fall in our path?” Caera asked with a hint of wonder in her voice.

  Tristan glanced at her. “It wasn’t magic, as you might think,” he said. “That tree had been struck by lightning. Its trunk was weak and cracked. So I gave it a mighty shove. It fell onto the trail and blocked the path.”

  “Thank you,” Beth said.

  The others agreed.

  Tristan smiled at her. “I’m at your service,” he said.

  “But what’s to become of us now?” Caera’s father asked. “The druids burned our hut. They took our small farm as their own.”

  “The druids believe everything belongs to them for their own purposes,” Tristan said. “I’m sorry for you.”

  He looked at Patrick and Beth. “And where did they find you?”

  “By a riverbank,” Beth said.

  “With a bunch of pigs,” Patrick said.

  “Ah, swineherding!” Tristan said. “I have great affection for that skill.”

  At that moment, they emerged from the woods. The foggy mist was behind them. The sun shone ahead of them. Dark clouds moved onto the nearby mountains.

  The dirt path they were on spread out to a bigger highway. Men riding horses galloped along the wide road. Their clattering hooves kicked up dust. Oxen pulled carts of common folk. Many were dressed in colorful tunics.

  “Are they going to celebrate the feast at the castle?” Beth asked.

  “Aye,” Tristan said. “But they don’t know what it is they’re celebrating.”

  Suddenly Beth’s eye caught a patch of green on the ground. “Shamrocks!” she said. “Real shamrocks.” Beth reached down and picked one. She tucked it into one of the holes on her vest.

  Caera smiled. “’Tis pretty to be sure,” she said. “I, too, love the shamrock. The clover is a symbol of our beloved land.”

  “I shall now call you Beth o’ the Shamrock,” Tristan said.

  Beth beamed. She felt as if she’d just been crowned.

  The Prophecy

  Tristan, the cousins, and the others joined the noisy crowd traveling along the road. Soon they came upon the outskirts of a small village. A group of festive people gathered at the side of the road. A man with a musical instrument stood in the middle of the crowd. The instrument looked like a small harp. The man lifted his head and began to sing.

  The man wore a hat in the shape of a cone. It looked as if it had been made from the bark of a tree. His tunic was a colorful assortment of square patches. His leather shoes pointed up at the toes. As the man sang, he danced a merry jig.

  “’Tis our friend Dubbach!” Caera said. “He’s a bard.”

  Beth looked at Patrick. “A bard?” she asked.

  “A bard travels from village to village,” Caera said. “He cheers us all with his singing and clever wit.”

  Beth and Patrick drew closer to the bard.

  Dubbach the bard finished his song. He stopped dancing. Then he strummed the small harp for a moment. The tune sounded mournful. Then he sang out with a loud clear voice:

  A new and bright fire comes.

  It burns in the peasants’ hearts.

  It turns our people from our gods.

  Our altars fall apart.

  A fire burns in our land.

  Oh, who now brings this flame?

  Where does he get his powerful light?

  Pray, tell me whence he came!

  The sad song made Beth feel strange inside. She asked Caera, “What does the song mean?”

  “’Tis the prophecy,” Caera said.

  “What prophecy?” Patrick asked.

  Caera’s father said, “For ages past, the prophecy has foretold that a fire would come to our land. It would burn away the faith of our fathers. The fire would tear down the altars of our druids. It would change Ireland forever.”

  “Aye,” said Caera. “Some say it could happen soon.”

  “It’s happening now,” Tristan said. “God has called the bishop to this pagan land. The bishop brings the good news of Jesus Christ.”

  “But the bishop is not to be trusted,” Caera’s father said. “He tears down the altars our fathers built. He talks of following new ways.”

  “The druids built the altars to sacrifice human lives. The killings honor their false gods,” Tristan said. “Why is it wrong to end such evil practices? They have hurt our people for generations!”

  Tristan paused and stared into the farmer’s eyes. “They were going to kill your own child,” Tristan said.

  Caera’s father put a protective arm around his daughter.

  Tristan continued. “The bishop does not teach evil. He teaches that hope can be found in Jesus Christ.”

  By this time, the crowd had turned to Tristan. Some scowled at him. Some clenched their fists.

  Finn the squirrel sat up on Tristan’s shoulder. The cute animal seemed to calm the crowd. Dubbach stopped his song. He pushed through the crowd to see who had interrupted him. He saw Caera and her father. His face lit up.

  The bard stopping singing. Then the crowd drifted away to go about their own business.

  “Erc the farmer! Caera!” the bard cried with merriment. “You have come a long way from home for the festival.”

  “We have no home now,” Caera’s father, Erc, said sadly. “It was destroyed by fire.”

  Dubbach frowned and shook his head. “That’s a rightful shame,” he said.

  Suddenly a smile of joy lit up
the bard’s face. “My cousin Bronus works in the castle at Tara,” he said. “He told me yesterday that King Logaire needs skilled workers.”

  “What would the workers do?” Erc asked.

  “They would farm the fields that provide food for the royal family,” Dubbach said. “Come with me! I’ll take you to meet my cousin. He’ll find work and a new home for you at the castle.”

  Caera’s father bowed to Dubbach the bard. Then he turned and bowed to Tristan. “I will repay you one day for your great kindness,” he said.

  Tristan nodded with a smile. “God is watching over you,” he said.

  Erc turned to Caera and said, “Come, lassie.” He joined Dubbach, and the two men walked away.

  Caera looked up at Tristan. “I would like to know more about the bishop and the new ways,” she said.

  Tristan nodded and said, “I’ll see to it.”

  Caera waved good-bye to Beth and Patrick. She raced after her father.

  “This is a strange place,” Beth said to Patrick. “The people don’t know about God.”

  Patrick opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly he stopped. He looked beyond Beth, and his eyes grew wide.

  Beth spun around. A cart pulled by two oxen headed straight toward them. Shane and the old druid were driving it. Over a dozen people sat tied up in the back. A soldier on horseback galloped beside the cart.

  “There they are!” shouted Shane to the soldier. “It’s one of the bishop’s converts. And our slaves. They’re leading a rebellion against the high king! Catch them!”

  Finn

  The soldier galloped toward them. He held his shield against his side. His sword glimmered in the sun.

  Then several things happened at once.

  “Follow me!” Tristan shouted to the cousins. He turned to run into the crowd. Finn jumped off Tristan’s shoulder. He scampered into a forest of legs and feet. Patrick tugged at Beth’s arm and took off after Tristan.

  Beth couldn’t take her eyes off the soldier. She stood frozen in fear. She heard Patrick call from somewhere behind her.