New Beginnings
Chapter 8

It came as a surprise to Rowena and Helga when they awoke one morning to see Rhiannon standing over them. She looked far older than when they had last seen her; time had not been kind. Her eyes were dull and there were new lines etched into her face from both time and war. Her once brown hair was mostly white.

“Mother?” said Rowena, in disbelief. She sat up at once.

Rhiannon smiled at Helga and Rowena for a moment then bent down to embrace them. There were tears in her eyes. Rowena’s eyes were dry, but Helga knew her cousin well enough to know she was overcome by emotion.

“I’m so sorry,” murmured Rowena, clinging to her mother.

“I am too,” whispered Rhiannon. And with those words, Rowena’s and Helga’s exile was over.

The next night, all three women were back in the Glen. Rowena and Helga walked around their familiar home, absorbing the sights, sounds, and smells. The forest creatures came to greet them. But there was a missing presence, an emptiness that could not help but be felt.

Over dinner Rowena finally asked, “Where’s Modron?”

Rhiannon heaved a sigh. “She died a few months ago.”

“How?” Helga gasped.

Rhiannon coughed a little, choking back a sob. “She died from battle, from wounds she sustained.”

“What happened, Mother?” asked Rowena.

“Those accursed Dark Wizards from the across the sea. We fought a group of them, and one of them pierced her stomach with a dagger. She was dying, and all I could do was bring her here. Now she sleeps at the edge of the Glen with our ancestors.”

There was a moment of silence.

“We’ve encountered those wizards too,” said Helga.

“I know,” said Rhiannon, “Stories of Rowena of the Glen and Helga Hufflepuff have reached even here. I am of both of you. Modron was too. She never said anything, but I knew.”

“Why are they here?” asked Rowena.

“They want to conquer and overrun our land.” Rhiannon seemed weary as she spoke. “Things are only going to get worse. There are rumors that a great army of wizards, a Dark Horde, is going to invade these shores. I’m so tired. I’ve been fighting them since the attack on Hogwarts years ago.”

Rowena helped Rhiannon into her bed. As she sat by the burning fire, Helga wondered how her aunt could tolerate living alone. The Glen is a place of solitude, but the lonliness must have been oppressive. When Rowena returned, she said nothing to Helga. She just shook her head. Helga understood. She also saw the specter of death around Rhiannon.

The next morning, an owl delivered a letter right in front of the hut. Helga was the first to discover the owl, just leaning against the door. It looked as though it had flying all night. She brought it some water. After imbibing, the owl flew into a nearby tree and refused to move. Helga opened the letter. As she read it, her eyes widened in horror.

“Rowena, come quickly,” she shouted. Rowena and Rhiannon both came.

“What’s wrong, Helga?” Rhiannon asked.

“Did an owl deliver that letter? Here?” Rowena asked in surprise.

“Listen,” said Helga. She started to read, “I send this owl in the hope that someone can help us, though I do not know who can. A wizard, not of this land, invaded my town of Montrose. His magic was weak, but he brought with him a manticore and threatened all our lives with it. For years we lived in fear, afraid of the beast. But today the manticore broke free of its imprisonment. It killed its master and now all our lives are in danger. If you can help us, I beg you, please come.”

Rhiannon looked at Rowena and Helga. “This letter’s arrival here is no accident,” she said. “We have to go.”

The three women dressed themselves in the ancient Amazon armor passed down from mother to daughter. Rowena strung her bow and filled her quiver. Over her armor she wore a dark, hooded robe that she felt protected her far better. Helga armed herself with her old spear. Its smooth body felt natural her hands despite the years apart. The three women disappeared and made their way to Montrose.

After years of oppression, the people of Montrose thought they were incapable of feeling surprise. Still, even they were unprepared for the sight of the three women (two garbed in strange warrior apparel and one wearing a long, dark robe) who calmly strode through their town.

A man came forward. “This is no time for a traveling show,” he said, “Get out of this town quickly. There’s danger here.”

Rowena strode forward. “We received an owl post asking for help. Is our aid not wanted?”

“Who are you?” the man asked suspiciously.

“I am Rowena of the Glen and…” She never finished her introductions. The man fell to his knees and kissed her hand repeatedly.

“Rowena of the Glen,” he said, finally letting go of her hand, “This is more than I dared hope for. I am the Chief Wizard of Montrose and I wrote that letter. I never thought the great Rowena would come. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Helga noticed Rowena blush a bit.

“Where’s the manticore?” Rowena asked.

“In the hills behind the town,” said the wizard.

Rowena nodded and led Helga and Rhiannon out of the town. As they left, Helga looked back at the hopeful faces of people anxiously peering out of the their houses.

The three of them slowly crept around the town’s outskirts. Helga had never encountered a manticore. All she knew was that they were dangerous beasts from the ancient lands where the Amazons once lived and that only the greatest heroes could kill them. Helga wondered if her ancestors ever came across any manticores. She gripped her spear tightly.

As the women searched for the creature, they heard a soft humming from over the hills. Rhiannon motioned for complete silence. They dropped to the ground and crept over the hill.

Helga gaped at the beast in horror, but she swallowed her scream. At first she thought it was a large lion with a long scorpion tail. But as the creature lifted its head she felt an illness rise in her stomach. It was a human head, bald and sickly white. The face was grossly disfigured and its yellow and black eyes glinted with malice. There was a twisted smile on its face and it hummed as it ate the flesh of some poor, unrecognizable creature. Suddenly it stopped humming, sniffed the air and looked in their direction. They had been spotted.

Rhiannon got up quickly. Helga and Rowena did the same. They ran to different sides of the beast trying to confuse it. Each woman cast several powerful charms. The manticore’s skin was tough, almost like a dragon’s, and the spells were repelled. Rowena aimed an arrow at the manticore’s face, and hitting it just below the left eye. It turned toward her, crouched, and lashed its tail toward her. Rowena dodged out of the way, for manticores’ tails contained a fatal poison that killed instantly.

Rhiannon clapped her hands together, lighting them on fire. She summoned a wind, which blew the flames onto the manticore’s body. No damage was done, but the manticore turned its attention from Rowena. It struck out its tail toward Rhiannon, and though she tried to move, the point of the tail caught her exposed heel. Rhiannon dropped immediately.

Rowena screamed out and rushed over to Rhiannon’s side. The manticore smiled malevolently and started to hum again, only louder. It poised its tail again.

Helga threw her spear at the tail, pinning it to the ground. The manticore no longer smiled. It howled in pain and reared to its hind legs trying to free itself. There was a sickening shred as the beast ripped off its own tail trying to free itself. Helga whistled and the spear flew back to her hand. To her surprise, there was no blood or poison on the spearhead. She absent-mindedly thanked the witch who created it.

The manticore roared in rage and charged toward Rowena, who was cradling her mother’s body. Her eyes flashed and she pounded her fist against the earth. Instantly the ground opened underneath the manticore’s paws and it fell into the earth. Rowena lifted her hand from the ground and the open pit moved to close. The manticore’s screams were almost human and Helga had to cover her ears. She could barely restrain the sickness she felt, knowing what was to come. The beast continued to scream until suddenly there came a gut-wrenching crunching sound ­ and then silence. Rowena, tears of grief and rage streaming down her face, lifted her mother’s lifeless body and walked toward the town. That night they buried Rhiannon in her final resting-place, just within the outskirts of the Glen.

As the sun rose on the grieving women, they understood that they were to finish battle against the Dark Horde that Rhiannon and Modron began years before.