Midnights Requiem Chapter 16
The site upon which Machas cabin and barn sit had been blasted out of the mountain side. As were sections of the long driveway. Perched on the mountain side looking down upon a small valley. Completely isolated from the world outside by the mountains and a long series of ridge lines.
When they had blasted into the mountain they had uncovered two things. A cave entrance and a spring head. The spring flowed straight out of the sheer granite face 30 feet above the floor of the perch. The cabin , sat squarely over the cave entrance.
The annual winter ice wall was growing. The spring water rushing out of the six inch copper pipe coating the rockface. Over night the spray would freeze. Come sunrise the direct sun would melt the outermost layer. Every day and night the process would repeat. Every year there would be several feet of Ice built up. Underneath the glittering ice coating the sheer rock wall of dark grey granite had white quartz veins running through it.
The water sprayed out, falling into a stone trough. Which over flowed to make a small waterfall. Where it pooled then flowed into a channel carved out all along the base of the wall. It was fairly loud close to it all. The falling water made waterfall sounds. A murmuring crash, a whispered roar along with a crystalline tinkle. It made for a soothing sight and sound combination. Moss lined most of the channel. Potted roses, cut back for winter marked a path along the stream.
Following the line of the stream Michael could see where the stream flowed though mini rapids joining with a larger stream. That made for a solid creek. Which flowed along the side of the stone and gravel drive. The driveway made a lazy turn onto a log built covered bridge over the creek a couple of hundred yards below the blasted granite shelf the house and barn sat on. It was a fairly large area with a vertical cliff face bordering behind it. the edge a sheer cliff overlooking the various complexities of intertwined hidden valleys. The driveway was the only sloped surface in the region.
The scattered hemlock and holly trees stood out with their bright green leaves scattered amongst the bare oak and hickory forest. Standing on the front porch you can easily see over a mile of the valleys below. The sunlit stream sparkling as it winds its way down the mountain. The forest was thick enough that you could not tell where the winding road lay. These mountains are ancient, remnants of the greatest mountain range in the world. Mountains that had been whittled down eroded away by rain and water. The Florida peninsula was made up of a good portion of the mountains that had been washed down stream by the rain and countless springs, and creeks and rivers of the region. The mountain here was layered in alternating bands of limestone and granite.
The particular geology of the area caused the exposed face of the rock to be striped. Making a zebra pattern. This was an awesome spot for a home. Looking over the farm, there was the house next to the barn, a barn sized stucture behind the two story log cabin. Looking up Michael could see many holes in the exposed lime stone. The mountain is riddled with caves.
Macha and her sisters had explored the caverns and galleries, finding all of the entrances that they could fit through. There were few that were large enough for a person to get through. Over all the smaller critters had the rest all to their gleeful selves.
Michael decided to make it a life goal of owning something similar to this kingdom of Macha’s. The thought of kingdom brought Michaels thoughts to security. Looking over everything once again, this time with an eye for securing the area. The mountain itself provided a measure of protection. Any threats from that direction could only come from above. While not an ideal situation, it did provide for a clear field of fire and zero cover for an aggressor force. The nature and dimension of the long drive limited the type of vehicles, no heavy trucks or equipment could make it up the winding narrow drive. The covered bridge at the edge of the plateau further limited access. Randomly Michael wondered if plateau was the proper term. The thought caused him to laugh out loud. It is not like he was going to be writing any after action reports or debriefing. Old habits die hard it seems. Michael popped the glove box in the dodge open , pressed the trunk release. Morgan watched him silently, wondering if he was going to do what she thought he was going to do. Michael rummaged about in the trunk then reappeared, now with a military thigh holster and semi auto pistol on his right thigh. Morgan smiled widely when she saw the Springfield M1A Scout rifle in his hands. “6.5 creedmore?” She asked. ” "Yes ma’am! Her name is Bess. The national match is Liz, and the socom carbine is Betsy.” Morgan nodded in approval. Michael’s childhood heroes had been Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett. The three rifles carried the names of those frontier heroes rifles. Michael raised the rifle to his shoulder, scanning about through the high powered scope. He was looking for any obvious threat positions. Places that a sniper would have cover, concealment, and over watch. Thankfully the closest positions were across the valley, near a mile away. Outside of a .50 cal or a .338 lapua, no firearms would be an issue. “I think a few game cameras posted along that ridge would be a good idea” Morgan followed the line of his sight. ” You are probably right.” She tapped his shoulder , pointing around at the high resolution security cameras positions on the house and barn. Michael nodded in approval, returning to his studying the lay of the land. Over all it was a fairly decent position. A couple of marksmen could easily cover and control all of the ways in and out. The four of them, with their abilities would have no problem defending the place. A few cameras along the drive, ridge, and the mountain top and they would have plenty of warning about any threat save an air assault. That they would hear coming, looking up and around, that left only an airborne insertion as a viable worry. Morgan was highly amused watching Michaels actions. His experience and competence were obvious. More reasons she found him attractive.
Morgan stood next to Michael gazing out over the small valley. To say that her mind and heart were in turmoil would be the understatement of millennia. The time she had spent in the other world, had to her experience been just over a century. Time perception in the other world is relatively subjective.
For Morgan it had been nearly a century that she had lived and relived some of Michaels memories. How long she had been there in his head before Michael had come for her, she had no clue. Had it been hours? Days? Decades? Decades in which thoughts of Michael had near literally held her together. Prior to the otherworld experience, Morgan had been conflicted where Michael was concerned. Something about him had called to her. Something that she could not control. She found that highly disconcerting . Morgan was not really thrilled about her state of mind when it came to Michael. This situation was a vulnerability she was in no way prepared for. Damnit all! Morgan was fully aware of the potential problems and found that she did not care. Emotions saying one thing, mind screaming another. Her past track record with love had been only a painful tragedy.
Near three thousand years ago, Morgan, then Nemain had married. That marriage ended when her husband had betrayed her and her people. What should have been the beginning of peace and a rebirth of the Aos Sidhe, came apart in fire, destruction and the near total eradication the Fomorii. What was to be the bridge between their peoples became their destruction. The Aos Sidhe, who had numbered in the thousands at that point. Never recovered from their Pyrrhic victory. A victory better described as only bitter survival.
As for the Fomori, maybe a handfull escaped, no more than that. They had escaped west across the ocean pursuing the setting sun. The surviving Aos Sidhe, had neither the strength nor will to pursue them.
Now granted, her marriage had been a political ploy to begin with. She had come to have feelings for the half breed Llew right up until he betrayed the Aos Sidhe and Nemain in particular. His adultery with a Fomori and multiple humans, led to repeated battles and a temporary Fomori victory. A victory that laid the groundwork for centuries of hatred bloodshed and genocidal rage.
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Balor had ravaged the Aos Sidhe for centuries. A pattern that continued until the Aos Sidhe had been consumed by the battle madness destroying the Fomori without mercy.
It was the Morrigan which had turned the tide, driving the Aos Sidhe battle mad, wreaking terror among the Fomori, pursuing and slaughtering the remnants among the waves as they wept and cried , begging for mercy in terror of death. Many many fell , lost in that last battle.
Morgans track record was truly unsettling. Now, here she is with Michael, and once again Llew is revealed in the mix. At that instant a thought began echoing about in her mind. His name, Michael Arthur Llewis! No wonder Macha and Badb are concerned. ” “Michael how is your surname spelled?” ” L L E W I S, it is Welsh I think.” Michael glanced at her with a questioning look. Morgan slapped both hands to her head , breaking down in laughter. Llew, Michael is a descendant of Llew! Oh that figures! That explains everything. Michael watched Morgans antics with growing apprehension. Morgan raised her voice , calling to Macha and Badb. A stumbling Macha emerged from the barn, ” Aye!! What d' yer want?” Badb stuck her head out of a second story window. “You bellowed?” Throwing her hands up Morgan cursed in Welsh, Gaulish, Gaelic and several other dead languages Michael could not identify. ” That bloody bastard set this up! That conniving traitorous aggravating bloody fucking know it all bastard!” Michael, Macha, and Badb simultaneously asked, ” Who?” “Lugh fucking lamfada, Llew bloody law fucking gyffes! Lugus the eternal ass!“ Macha dropped the half empty bottle of Old Weller 107, ” I bloody well knew it! Moytura all over again!” Badb cimbed out of the window dropping and landing on her feet. A smile on her face She strolled over to the car, slaping Michael on the back in passing. Looking into the trunk Badb enthusiastically declared, ” A rocket launcher, I think we need a rocket launcher. ” Badb smiling is reason for worry alone. Badb enthusiastic is frightening. When Badb is happy, generally no one else is. When Badb is enthusiastically happy, an apocalypse is near.