In the darkness of the night, dense cloud obscured all natural forms of light, but a red glow of fires, made it slightly easier to make out the forms of those gathered on the walls of Athlethan.

“Why didn’t the Leviathan help us destroy the enemy?” asked Caer Omaith, “Then this could all be over.” She motioned to the dark army stretched out before the walls of Athlethan.

“Dray Goen told me when I met him that they will not be involved in human wars but will only protect us from the elemental beasts that are used against us, as just happened,” Tuatha replied. “We must fight out own battles, it is Riangbra’s way.

Tuatha and Laegaire along with Tethra, Caer Omaith, Fiall, Fernmaige, Ainnle, Ardan and Naoise stood side by side in their full battle armour, at the main gate of the city, it was wide open, and the suns were about to rise, bringing a glow to the horizon.

Tuatha raised Salchah and the horn was blown, with a shout the warriors of Athlethan streamed from the gates of the city to meet the oncoming black tide. Behind them was Aillel and Celthair, relishing their first real battle, defending their fathers home.

The clash of swords and shields was tremendous and overwhelming. The soldier at the front of the attack stopped in their tracks. The sun was glinting brightly off the armour of a row of formidable looking warriors. Behind them a row of the mythological and enormous Anakim. Further behind them growing rows of Riangbra warriors. At the back, the white army of Muinremar, too bright to look at in the morning light.

It may have been the appearance of the Leviathan, high in the skies over the city, or it may have been the fear of the swords of these legendary warriors. They did not know about the Leviathans oath to never help or take sides in human wars.

The tide did not stop behind them however and they were pushed from behind, knocked over and crushed by the soldiers behind them, as they fell, the others ran over the top of them. It was a recurring process, the soldiers who saw Tuatha and his fellow warriors again halted or slowed. Their fear was tangible. None of them wanted to die for a dark lord who took more than he gave.

Those who had not seen the line pushed on until they too were overcome by the heart stopping sight. Like a wave a cry of “the beasts” and looking up the army became aware of the Leviathan silhouetted against the sky. Before long, the crush lessened and the enemy stopped and began to fearfully walk backwards, then when some began to run, they all ran.

Ruad saw what was happening and furiously he leaped on his horse galloping at the soldiers. “To me” he bellowed, some of his vanguard joined him their swords outstretched.

The sword he held aloft was Mac Roth, made from the shards of the nine vanquished swords of the rebel lords of old. It began to glow, and flame came from the blade. Dark lighting came from the earth feeding its power. Ruad seemed to become larger in the saddle and the black horse flashed with fire from its eyes. The soldier who saw this sight before them as they ran, took courage from the bravery, turned to follow.

As the retreat was sounded another bugle was heard and the White soldiers of Dun Emain appeared running at full speed toward the North flank of the enemy. They had arrived from the river Rochad having sailed the ships up the river.

Tuatha and the others saw Ruad coming toward them, a small contingent of brave soldiers renewed and fearless due to the dark energy that flowed around them from the earth.

Tuatha drew Salchah from the scabbard and he held it aloft. He spoke the words aloud that were written on the blade.

“Riangbra is and will be, as always it has been, forever in life, never in pain, the cycle continues till it is broken, death, never again.”

As he spoke his voice became louder and deeper till it was shaking the ground. Lightning came from it and the sky became as night; the sun faded to a dull orange ball. From the sky, stars now visible a white star became brighter and brighter, till it dominated the sky with its incandescence. A beam came down from it and connected with the tip of Salchah. The light seemed to fill the sword with luminescence, and it flowed down his arm and into his body, the Scabbard pulsing with energy.

Sencad continued to gallop toward Ruad, Tuatha sitting upright.

By the time Ruad and Tuatha reached each other on their mounts. The ground was trembling, as if the forces much greater than themselves were in battle deep under the crust of the planet. It shook so vigorously that the legs of all who were running became unstable and they stumbled.

As they came alongside each other at full gallop their swords connected, a loud crack was heard. Their swords sparked as the dark and the light clashed. It was a culmination of all the vengeance and the goodness of the earth since the end of the first great battle. This time all the malevolence of Mac Roth was in the sword, and it did not shatter as the first swords had. This time the all the strength was in one sword and Mac Roth had made sure it would not happen again.

They turned their horses and attacked again. The army had stopped running now, having seen the ensuing battle, and all were watching the dark Ruad whose sword seemed to swallow all light that came his way and the almost unbearably white figure of Tuatha whose sword shone with the brightness of the sun.

They clashed, this time their swords aimed for each other. They lifted their shields and the swords split them into splinters. They both grunted with the effort and they both fell off their horses, landing on their feet as they had both been taught.

They stood looking at each other. Tuatha had never seen Ruad’s face in their practice bouts.

Ruad had only seen part of Tuatha’s face and now looking in his eyes felt a tinge of fear. Tuatha had beaten him countless times with a blindfold on. Now he saw Tuatha’s eyes. Full of steely determination yet calm and fearless. His eyes glowing from the energy that pulsed though him.

Before he thought too much about it and the urge to fight took over, he ran at Tuatha. Mac Roth held high with the blade pointed toward Tuatha in a textbook attack.

He blinked and Tuatha was no longer there. He halted his run and tried to feel where Tethra had moved to, yet he felt nothing. An instant later he felt a sharp and painful strike on his behind. Angrily he swung Mac roth to where Tuatha would have been standing. But it met empty air.

He spun around in a full circle taking in what was around him. But he did not see Tuatha. Then he felt it again on his chest under his arm, a painful blow that winded him. He knew where to strike next, and it was Tuatha’s turn to feel the successful counterattack from Ruad, and it was not as kind as his had been. It was fast and cunning, the blade he saw coming was nothing but a clever trick of the eyes. The defensive position of Salchah was too low and the heavy blade found the gap in his jointed armour, slicing halfway into his arm. He cried out and the weight in his now useless arm fell tip down into the ground. In an instant the light from Salchah seemed to go down to the tip and with a roar the ground heaved under both their feet. They both managed to stay upright and Tuatha grasped Salchah with his good hand. The battle was not just between them, it was a battle of the power of the stars and of the elemental earth. Riangbra itself had an internal battle with something within. Like a cancerous tumour that had been growing within the body and now the body was fighting back.

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Tuatha stepped back and knelt, his head bowed and his hand on the hilt of Salchah. Time slowed and behind his closed eyelids he saw a woman with kind and elderly face. A voice spoke, clear and beautiful like a small trickle of water in a gentle stream.

“Now is not the time,” it said. “Show him your benevolence. There is hope for him.”

Ruad saw his opportunity, he leaped forward and raised Mac Roth. With all his strength he swung it down on Tuatha’s bowed head. But in an instant Tuatha raised Salchah and the blades crashed together, there was a loud pop and light exploded from Salchah. The blades jarred together but the energy ran up the blade of Mac Roth and into Ruad’s arms. His arms felt like the bones had shattered. Ruad screamed and fell back, clutching at the pain.

Tuatha leaped up and held Salchah against Ruad’s neck.

Ruad now had a look of fear. He closed his eyes and waited for death. But nothing. He heard the shouts of the warriors to “kill him” and “what are you waiting for Tuatha?” but it never came.

Tethra saw opportunity at the fall of their leader to attack while they were disheartened, perfect timing as far as a commander is concerned, to ensure victory. But Tuatha shouted to stop, arm held out. Tethra paused and the warriors also stopped. Tethra looked at Tuatha incredulously.

But it was too late. The sudden demise of their leader and the warriors threatening advance reignited the fear they had had before and they ran hard, away from the scene, some dropping their swords and shields.

Ruad was left alone with his vanguard of his four faithful warriors, who were prepared to die for him. Tuatha picked up Ruad who was blind with pain and placed him on his horse. He turned and looked at Mac Roth lying where it had fell. A deep gouge in its edge where it had met Salchah. Tethra saw it also realising the benefit of capturing such a powerful weapon of the enemy, he quickly picked it up.

It is hard to describe the pain that Tethra felt through his body. His back arched and he screamed falling backwards and down onto his knees, his arms, and hands in a position of rigor seen only in dead bodies that had died it pain. A black welt ran up his arm and he fainted, the sword clattering down once more onto the ground.

Tuatha ran to his friend who was unconscious. He called for a horseman to pick him up and take him to the city. Then he turned and looked at Mac Roth. It seemed to vibrate as it lay on the bare earth, it rattled against the stones and did not sit still.

Tuatha leaned closer and reached toward it. His mind seemed to be filled with all his desires at once. It was a good feeling, like if the opportunity of all he ever wanted in his life was there for the taking, without delay. The tip of his finger brushed against the hilt and the feeling suddenly grew stronger. He grasped it and tried to lift it. It was as if Mac Roth saw potential in this new owner, a way to success for the plans it had been endowed with by the dark lord himself.

Salchah was in the scabbard on Tuatha’s side and as he held it a darkness came across his countenance, blacker than ever before and heavier. The light went from him. Salchah began to glow and grew hotter and hotter. Tuatha at first smelled the smoke then he felt the heat and where the scabbard touched his side it suddenly caught fire and began to burn his clothes and then his skin. Tuatha having only one hand dropped Mac Roth to try and put out the fire. As it left his hand the light flowed back and once the burning was quenched, Tuatha saw the sword for what it was, just a sword. It had tried and had failed. Again, Tuatha picked it up and walked over to Ruad with in. Ruad recoiled but relaxed as Tuatha slipped it back into its scabbard.

“Go,” said Tuatha. “It is just a sword. We will meet again Ruad my friend.” Tuatha bowed the short bow of a king to another or of a friend to another. In the haze of his pain, Ruad could not believe Tuatha’s words. It stayed in his heart, a secret patch of light on the midst of the darkness within. It felt right to do it, it was the gift of forgiveness that would find a way into Ruad’s heart.

His vanguard took the reins of his horse, and they slowly trotted off after the retreating army.

Meanwhile, Amerghin stood before the retreating army. He was screaming and swinging his sword at the deserters scattering into the hills toward Rochad, trying to reverse the retreat but to no avail. They ignored him and dodged around him, their fear of their enemy greater than the fear of their master who only had their respect, because it was forced upon them.

With a curse Amerghin swung onto his horse and galloped away.

Over the days that followed the battle of Athlethan the bedraggled army of the dark lord trickled in and regrouped in Enna Aignech. With his soldier’s courage back, Amerghin was able to regain control of the armed forces and they settled awaiting the counterattack of the allied warriors of the Deep Lands.

The celebrations that followed within the walls of Athlethan were legendary, the uniting of the people of Dun Emain under the two kings, father and son was worthy of the pages of the Chronicle prophetica. There had not been celebrations like it since the first victory by Emain in the first great battle.

Despite their weariness the people celebrated all day and all the next night.

There was a ceremony of welcoming to the warriors of Dun Emain, rewards for valour were handed to many men who had sacrificed their safety for others.

Dray Goen himself arrived and greeted the people allowing them to touch him and hug him or even kiss him for what he had done. It did not take long for his warm personality to override his ferocious countenance.

Tuatha and his family gave all their time accepting gifts from the people of food and comfortable clothing. They spoke with many of the people, encouraging the wounded and making sure no one was missed in the need for care, especially for the suffering of families who had lost their children, fathers, and mothers.

They did this until the morning of the next day until they were beyond exhausted.

Tuatha saw Laegaire falling asleep where she stood and picked her up, carrying her back to the palace. The others followed not far behind, the people following them wanting to show them their love for them finally saw that they needed to sleep and let them be. Sleep they did, like the sleep of the dead.

A day after the battle ended and the Anakim had finished healing the wounded and the dead were buried.

The people gathered into the square in front of the palace and the king spoke:

“People of the Deep Lands, we have seen a marvellous victory, we have seen the bravery of our warriors and we have seen things not thought possible.”

The crowd cheered then quickly became silent.

“We have lost many of our loved ones, and we must not forget those who have no one to care for them. The helpless and the orphan. Find them, take them in and feed them.”

The crowd acknowledged with a muted agreement.

“We are not done; We must pursue the enemy and not let them rest. I want you to run, catch up with them, do not let them sleep. Our brave warriors will leave tomorrow morning to complete this fight for the last time. We must pull together and support this by helping to prepare our warriors for the journey to Sennol Uathach where we will put the dark lord back in the hole he crawled out of permanently.”

The crowd cheered again, but more muted this time.

Everyone knew that many more people would die, and many would not see their loved ones again.

“By Riangbra’s will, we hope to see you all again, Ride well, O brave Riders of Rochad.” The crowd cheered.

“Farewell our brothers of Dun Emain, may you sail to victory O’ seafarers of Don Cluana and to my beloved Riangbra warriors, may you run to victory and bring us into that prophesied time of peace that we all so long for.”

The crowd cheered louder again, and the people of the city hugged and patted the backs of the warriors that carried all their hopes.

Not long after this the city became a hive of activity as preparations were made. The whole city worked down to the child who had just learned to walk, and by the evening they were ready and shortly after dusk the city became hushed as people settled down to rest, to hold their loved ones close to them one last time.

Caer Omaith leaned back in Ainnle’s arms and sighed as he tended to some cuts on her leg. Tuatha lay with his head in Laegaire’s lap as she stroked his hair. Ardan and Fiall walked hand in hand in the palace garden talking and laughing together. Conail and Freysia sat alongside each other their heads together whispering something. Tethra and Naoise were deep in conversation over Riangbra fighting techniques.

Their children were still in the city, where some of the more energetic youths were continuing to celebrate and cement friendships.

These luxuries of peace and relaxation conversation, they would not find on this coming journey, which made these moments so much more precious.

The warriors of Dun Emain and Don Cluana left after only a short rest. Once in their ships they, would take the time to prepare for the battle. They needed to set sail as soon as possible if they were to make it to Port Senchad and assist in the battle at Sennol.

Dray Goen was to function as messenger between the ships and the warriors on foot to make sure their arrival was co-ordinated. This is all he would do to help them; it took some convincing for the other Leviathan to agree that this was not a violation of the rule.

Two days later, as soon as the sun rose, the columns of warriors left in groups of a thousand. When they were all out of the city they began to run, chanting as they ran to keep the pace regular. This marathon run would take two days with night rests. On the last night they would sleep and rise for a short run to the city of Rochad. Here they hoped to use the hidden ways into the city that few knew about and open the gates and storm the city to drive out the enemy.

When the scouts got there, they found an empty city and it was with great joy the army of Rochad and their families, soon appearing from within the hidden places in the forest, once more filled the walls of Rochad with happiness and laughter.

After a short night rest, the warriors pushed on, continuing the pace of the day before.