DISCLAIMER: Usual. RH not mine. Love to Sydney and Nigel and the actors that made them come alive. Let’s hope for a reunion movie! And yes, I do believe in faeries.

Written By: Aryea

IN THE LAND OF THE FEINNE

 

 

 

They were almost out of sight of their pursuers when Nigel tripped over a raised tree root and accidentally slammed into Sydney in front of him. She didn’t have the chance to react as they both stumbled closer to the edge of the hillside and moments later were tumbling down a slick, muddy path. They landed in a heap at the bottom, mere inches away from the frigid water.

Sydney regained her senses first and could hear their assailants up above crashing through the bush. She grabbed Nigel, who hadn’t had time to completely regain his feet yet, and pulled them into the cover of some bushes and an overhanging ledge. They both waited silently as they heard the men stomping above. They shouted some orders and then moved on, their voices fading in the distance.

“Sorry, Syd,” Nigel whispered meekly.

Sydney shrugged it off. “Well, we lost them at least.” She glanced around to see where they were, and then pushed Nigel’s upper body forward to pull off his backpack.

She retrieved the relic, an ornately carved staff head in the shape of a cross that had once been rumoured to head the staff of St. Patrick. An Irish king had the ornament specially crafted in the later years of the beloved Saint’s life as a reward for all that Patrick had done for his people. It held a clover of emeralds in the very centre of the cross that were said to have magical powers. St. Patrick, being a truly pious man had tried to refuse the gift, but his superiors agreed that it would be a good thing to accept, as a blessing of the King.

“No-no, I’m fine, really,” Nigel huffed, annoyed.

“Good.” She nodded satisfied and put the relic back into the bag. “Let’s see about getting out of here.”

Nigel wasn’t sure if she was pleased for him or the stupid relic, but he left it alone. He reached into the side pocket, pulled out the map and unfolded it across his lap, trying to ignore the horrible pain in his right knee. He pointed to an area where they had found the hidden cave and subsequently the relic they had been searching for. “This was where we were,” he said as he ran his finger along the map. “This is where we picked up the Menacing Marauders and they’ve been chasing us for at least ten minutes or more.”

“Which puts us right about here,” Sydney surmised indicating another place on the map. She glanced up, as if remembering their sudden detour. “Or, rather below here, actually.”

Nigel inspected the map, matching it to what he was seeing. “Right, so if this is the…perhaps the south side of the lake, if we walk north-west…”

“We should find the air strip.” Sydney glanced upwards, making sure they were still in the clear, and then quickly rose to her feet. She indicated the steep slope they had slid down. “Unless, we want to try and get back up there?”

Nigel shook his head. Not while those gunmen were still in the area. Why did every country seem to have so many brutish hit men for hire, anyway? Were they all in some secret sort of guild, Killers R Us or something? “We’d be safer to try this way.”

Sydney glanced around them and frowned. “Doesn’t look like there’s much of a path, Nige.”

He slowly started to stand. “We’ll manage some…” He winced as his leg gave out beneath him. “Oh hell.”

Sydney turned, startled. “What?”

“My knee, I’ve twisted it or something.” He tried to rise and again pain shot up his right leg,

Sydney crouched beside him. “Take off your pants.”

“What?” Nigel croaked, startled.

“I need to see your knee, take off your pants.”

“But Syd…”

Sydney pulled out her knife. “You’d prefer I slice them off, Nigel?”

Considering that it would be dark soon and the temperature would be dropping Nigel didn’t want any extra ventilation in his clothes that could be avoided. He shook his head, reluctantly and Sydney reached for his belt.

“Wait!” Nigel panicked. “I…I’m feeling better. It’s just twisted, really.”

Sydney scowled, impatiently. She could see a small tear in his pant leg and she needed to make sure that there wasn’t some foreign object embedded in his knee. “Take them off, Nigel.”

“I can’t!”

Sydney smirked, amused. “I’ve seen you in your unmentionables before.”

Nigel flushed and lowered his eyes. He muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?” Sydney asked moving closer.

“Cut them,” he repeated grimly. “Cut my trousers.”

Sydney frowned. He’d need all the insulation they could get if they didn’t reach the airstrip before dark. “Nigel, just take them off for heaven’s sake.” She again reached for his belt and Nigel slapped her hands away. “Nigel!”

“Just slice the bloody things, Sydney !”

“I promise not to look at your stupid…”

“I’m not wearing any!”

“Any what…underwear?”

Nigel’s cheeks flamed and he pursed his lips in annoyance.

Sydney’s eyebrows rose. She never took Nigel to be the type that would go commando. “Um…why not?”

Nigel sighed, knowing there was no way around but to explain. “I…you remember yesterday when we got trapped in that rainstorm?” He pursed his lips again, agitated and looked everywhere but at her. God, why did these things always happen to him?

She nodded confused.

After a harrowing flight in a small, seemingly unstable two engine plane that should have been retired thirty years ago, to an airfield approximately twenty kilometres from where they needed to go, they’d run clean of further transportation. The pilot, a shady, smelly man informed them that there would be a work transport going out in the morning that they could get a ride with for the right price. It had been storming even on the plane ride over and Sydney asked about shelter, since the airfield seemed to be out in the middle of nowhere. The man lived within walking distance and offered his barn for shelter, again for the right price.

They walked a kilometre and a half back to the man’s tumbled down shack and were given a couple of old army blankets, that had probably been lifted from soldiers decades before, a lantern and some food. Inside the barn, both Sydney and Nigel had discretely pulled off their soaked clothing and hung them to dry, wrapping up in the blankets. They settled against some hay bales and tried to ignore the smell of manure and the snuffling of the milking cow in the stall next to them.

When they woke up the next morning, their clothes were relatively dry but Nigel’s underwear had gone missing. He had a suspicion that the cow had eaten them, but couldn’t bring himself to tell Sydney ; she would be teasing him for weeks. He had brought a change of clothing, he always did, but that was back at their hotel closer to the main airport. He only carried the essentials for what they might need on a hunt in his backpack; the satellite phone, his cell phone, a couple of torches, with extra batteries and some first aid equipment. The rest of the bag would be taken up by whatever relic they were hunting.

“Nigel…” Sydney was growing impatient.

“We were both soaked through and…and I…I hung my clothes up on the door…the door of one of the stalls and…and I think the bloody heifer ate them!”

Sydney bit her lip, hard. She didn’t dare laugh, Nigel was horrified enough, but it was just so funny. Only Nigel. “Um…” She honestly didn’t know what to say. She finally gripped his pant leg, determined. “Right.” She cut as small a hole as she could to see his injury and was surprised to see that several bits of gravel and what looked like one long piece of wood had embedded itself just below his kneecap. It wasn’t serious but she could imagine how much it hurt him.

“What is it?” he demanded growing concerned by her expression.

She looked at him stone faced. “I’m sorry, Nigel.”

Nigel’s agitation was promoted to panic. “What? How bad is it?” He started to lean forward to see.

Sydney pushed him back, her hands remaining on his shoulders as she stared into his eyes, her expression grave. “We’re gonna have to amputate.”

Nigel gaped at her dismayed, and then saw the twitching of her lips. “That is not funny, Sydney Fox!” he shrieked, furious when she couldn’t hold back her smile any longer. “You’re a cruel, cruel woman.”

“Oh lighten up, Commando,” she retorted as she pulled the bag off his back and then leaned down to carefully extract the sliver of wood. “This will only hurt for a minute.” She pulled out the sliver, offering it to him so he could see what it was, and then unpacked the small first aid kit from his bag. She cleaned it with a peroxide pad, and then pulled out the iodine. “This might sting.”

Nigel flinched, but remained silent as Sydney placed a butterfly bandage across the area. “Thank you,” he said, his anger not getting in the way of his manners.

“You’re welcome.” She patted his other knee as she put the kit away and rose. “Think you can walk on it?”

“Without that bloody tree in it, certainly.” He accepted her hand up, wincing at the discomfort and put his weight on his injured leg. It still hurt, but not as much so he would manage.

“Okay?” Sydney asked, her concern genuine this time.

He nodded. “Never better, thanks.”

Now that the emergency was diverted, they returned to the task at hand. “So we have to walk North West , right?”

“I believe so, but Syd…”

She turned to him and raised her eyebrow questioningly.

“It’s almost twenty kilometres back to the airstrip.”

“We’ve walked further.”

“Not with gunmen after us and the sun will be going down in less than three hours. We’ll never make it before dark.”

Sydney tossed him his bag, ignoring his oof of surprise. “Then we’d better get started.”

Nigel sighed, slung his bag onto his back and hobbled after her.

 

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Nigel’s right hand was shoved as deep inside his trouser pocket as it could go while his left held the torch so that he could see his path. He was shivering. What had started out to be a fine, warm day in Ireland had turned into a very chilly and dark evening. There had been no further signs of the henchmen that had been after them. In fact there appeared to be no signs of life at all, once they had entered the forest that Sydney was sure would lead to the road. Nigel had been sceptical. At least following the stream should take them to the nearest town, but Sydney assured him that the map showed a short cut through the forest back to the main road. That was several hours ago and as night edged over the land the heavy cover of foliage above them made their path harder to see, even with their flashlights.

“You okay back there?” Sydney called from in front of him. She noticed that his pace had started to slow and there was a much bigger distance between them than she preferred. She liked Nigel to be close in case anything suddenly happened, so that she could protect him. “Your leg bothering you?”

Nigel lifted his gaze from where he had been watching his path, trying to avoid tripping on any raised tree roots or overturned rocks. He was startled that there was almost ten feet between them and attempted to catch up. His knee was throbbing like crazy and every step was like a knife stab in his flesh, but he had felt worse pain and so he would muddle through. He didn’t like being a burden to Sydney in anyway, so he had gotten used to swallowing the mild discomforts and additional aches and pains he usually acquired on a hunt.

Sydney stopped, turned and flashed her light at him. “Nige?”

“I’m fine, Syd,” he lied as he finally caught up, slightly out of breath from the effort. “Just cold and tired.”

Sydney nodded. She was woman enough to admit that she had made a mistake entering the woods. It didn’t look as dense on the map and yet they had been walking several hours through trees and dirt and large, ancient stones. There appeared to be no sign of the main road. “I’m sorry, Nige.”

Nigel shrugged. He didn’t need to ask why she was apologizing. “Do you think we should turn back?” he suggested. “Try and find the stream?”

Sydney shook her head. “We have to be at least halfway through by now, but I don’t think we should go any further tonight. Let’s try and find a place to bed down.”

Nigel nodded. “We passed a selection of rocks in amongst the trees just back a bit. They might lend some shelter if the wind picks up.”

“Sounds good, lead on.” Sydney waved him forward, back the way they had come, and discretely slipped the bag off his shoulders as he turned. She had noticed him limping and the bag no doubt added to his fatigue.

Nigel glanced at her in appreciation and then moved on, trying to remember where he had seen that small outcropping of stone. He remembered it specifically because he had been looking at nothing but trees for so many hours, it seemed strange for there to be such a selection of rock in the middle of the thick forest.

“Here!” he announced and moved off to the left, through a natural opening in the forest.

The ground held a selection of smooth standing stones, varying from three feet to six feet in height, grouped together in clusters of threes and creating a disproportionate rim around the clearing. The outcropping of trees that surrounded the area created a thick canopy overhead that only allowed a few patches of the starlight sky above to shine through.

“Good job, Nige,” Sydney offered. The rocks would provide a barrier against the wind and the thick foliage above would help filter any rainfall that might suddenly descend. It rained a lot in Ireland .

Nigel limped over to one of the larger trio of stones and slowly dropped down. “God, I’m beat!”

Sydney followed, set his bag and her satchel beside him, and then flashed her light around for a better look. There was a spattering of tall-stemmed white and purple flowers in the centre of the small clearing. She knelt beside them, intrigued and as she took a closer look she could see that they almost made a circular pattern in the ground.

“What’re you looking at, Syd?”

“These flowers, I’ve never seen this breed before, have you?”

Nigel sat up straighter and glanced over, just as Sydney started to reach for one of the tiny cup-shaped flowers. “Don’t touch it, Syd!”

Sydney snatched her hand back. “Why?”

“That’s Foxglove and it’s poisonous.” Nigel rose and moved over to crouch next to her. “They grow wild in select places throughout Europe .” His expression softened as he stared at the flowers. “My mother had some in her garden that sprouted up one day. She was ever so happy about it, but we were never to touch them without gloves on.”

“Do they usually grow in such a dense, shaded place?”

Nigel shrugged and moved back to lean against the stone. “They grow everywhere. Dark places, light places, they’re a very unpredictable plant.”

“Hmmm.” Sydney moved back over to where Nigel had settled and set their bags on the ground. “This almost looks like a Druid worship site, with these rocks here. They couldn’t have sprouted up from the ground, so someone must have placed them here for a reason.”

“Oh stop!” Nigel snapped as he snuggled down as best he could beneath the rock, crossed his arms over his chest and turned his back to her. He hated sleeping on the ground, but he’d gotten used to being able to sleep almost anywhere after three years of working with Sydney . “If you start saying things like that I’ll start thinking of pagan rituals and sacrifices and I’ll never get to sleep.”

Sydney smirked as she sat beside him and leaned against the rock. She switched off her light. “Poor Nigel. Want me to tell you a nice story? One with a happy ending?”

“Do you know any?”

Sydney ignored his sarcasm. “Sure.” She thought for a moment, and then began. “There’s a legend of the Algonquin people that tells the story of Pocanue the only daughter of the reigning chief at the time. She had been promised in marriage to Matuwa, a strong and handsome brave from their tribe. It would be a good match and as she was a good and loyal daughter she would listen to her father and marry the warrior that had been chosen for her.”

“How is that a happy ending?” Nigel scoffed. “An arranged marriage?”

“I’m not finished telling the story.”

“Fine. Do continue.”

“Well, one day Pocanue was out picking berries for a special feast that would be held that evening in her village. She met a hunter scout named Melikwa from a warring tribe that had been fishing in the lakes nearby. She was frightened at first that he might kill her, but he was so taken with her beauty that he offered her some of his fish instead. Pocanue accepted the fish and offered him some of her berries. A truce was made.”

“Why have I never heard of this legend?”

Sydney smacked Nigel’s shoulder. “Hush.”

Nigel remained silent.

“Pocanue and Melikwa began to meet in secret, away from their villages, and continued their game of sharing food that they had gathered. Soon, they fell in love but they knew that their people would never allow them to be joined in marriage, because their tribes were at war. So, they made a pact to run away with each other. Pocanue agreed to meet him at twilight at the rising of the first full moon, in their spot by the stream. Melikwa would secretly hunt and gather food for their journey and meet her on that night.”

“This had better have a happy ending, Syd.”

Sydney bit down on her grin and continued. “Pocanue had gathered what things she would need and had hidden them beneath the stump of an old tree, just on the border of her village. However, her father had suspected his daughter was up to something and he had Matuwa follow her. When she slipped out of her hut and went to collect her things from the stump, Matuwa was waiting. He tried to take her back to the village, to her father, but she fought him. There was a struggle and she ended up stabbing her betrothed with his own blade.”

Nigel turned and stared up at her, intrigued.

“Frightened by what she had done, Pocanue ran off into the forest, in search of Melikwa. Seconds later Melikwa came upon their meeting place and found the slain warrior. Others from the village happened upon the scene and upon finding their sworn enemy so close to the camp, immediately assumed that the warring tribesman had been the one to kill Matuwa. He was taken away and slain for his crime. His body was then cast into the river to cleanse his spirit and allow him access to the spirit world.”

“Well…wait a minute. What of Pocanue?”

“Pocanue became lost in the forest and the spirit of Melikwa rose from the river at the sounds of her tortured cries and pleaded with the spirits to allow him to stay with his love instead of entering the other world. The God’s listened and they allowed Melikwa a moment of human form. He found Pocanue who fell into his arms instantly. The Gods then turned Melikwa into an giant ash tree and Pocanue became the flowers.”

“You mean they both died?”

“Well, yes but they remained together for eternity, as they wished it.”

Nigel scoffed in protest. “You call that a happy ending?”

“It’s a story of eternal love.”

Nigel lay back down and turned his back on her, disgusted. “There are names for women like you, but I am too much of a gentleman to repeat them.”

Sydney grinned. “I liked the ending.”

“Yes, well you’re sick.”

She poked him with her flashlight. “Fine, you tell one then.”

“One what?”

“A story with a happy ending. I bet you don’t know any…and no fairy tales. A real story.”

“All right. Once upon a time there was a nice young Englishman whose only desire was to have a nice, quiet teaching job surrounded by plenty of quiet books.”

Sydney leaned over him, daring him to finish the story and complain about all she’d put him through over the years. “And?”

Nigel glanced up at her, and then turned away again. “And he met a woman who changed his life forever and he was the better for it. The end.”

Sydney patted his shoulder. Good boy. “Thanks, Nige.”

Nigel grunted.

Sydney leaned over him again and eerily highlighted her features with her light. “Wanna tell ghost stories?”

“Certainly not!”

“Play twenty questions?”

“No.”

“How about…”

Nigel sat up, irritated and glared at her. “I want to go to sleep, as well should you. You’re worse than a child who won’t go to bed and keeps asking for a glass of water.”

Sydney shrugged, sheepishly. “I can’t help it. I’m not tired and…”

“And?”

“It’s too quiet here. Don’t you find it quiet? I haven’t even heard so much as a bird or a squirrel or anything.”

“It’s night time, perhaps they are sleeping, as we should be.”

Sydney had to smile. He sounded so much like a scolding father. She wondered what kind of parent he would be and immediately she pictured him as a firm but loving one. Just like he was with her, really. He knew when to push her and when to back off, but he still always let her know it was because he cared.

“Come on, don’t you find it kinda spooky?”

“Surely the great Sydney Fox is not afraid to be in the woods after dark because it’s too quiet?”

Sydney grunted and finally switched off her light. She lay down and turned her back to him. “You’re not envisioning any movie scenes are you?”

Nigel could hear the trepidation in her voice and was surprised by it. He rarely saw Sydney affected by such things. He could not blame her. He’d had an uneasy feeling ever since they entered the forest. However, once they had settled in this clearing, he felt a gentle easiness overtake him.

“Nige?”

“Yes, I am envisioning ‘T’was the Night Before Christmas’ and I’d like to count my sugar plums in peace, please.”

Sydney lay down again in a huff. There was something about this place that made her hair stand up on end. It was like they were being watched and she was afraid to go to sleep in case whoever was watching them might overtake them in their sleep. She turned back around and scooted closer to Nigel, tossing a hand over his hip. If he moved she would know, even in her sleep she would protect him.

 

 

Continue to chapter 2

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