Dirty Villains

by Cheri Marie

  “Come, sit with me and assuage your hunger,” his voice is deep and melodious. He waves his hand and two earthen-ware cups appeared as well as a plate.

  The cups are filled with something sweet smelling and forgetting my manners I snatch the cup up and gulp down the sweet honey flavored drink. When I set it back down on the flat rock, it refills itself, nearly sending me feet overhead. The plates hold soft cheeses and pieces of warm brown bread smelling like wheat and rosemary. My dirty hands reach for the plate when I stop myself.

  “Why have you shown yourself to me?” I ask him while I look at his beautiful face.

  His nose is slender and his lips are full. His eyes the color of the sky during sunset splashed with various colors of blues, purples, and yellow. He looks like a warrior with nothing but a pair of trousers that flowed like water when he moved. The raven took bits of bread from Bran’s hand gingerly as he looks at me with amusement on his handsome face.

  “Do you think the old gods would let you be, huh? No matter, your brother is not the only one we need.” His words are cryptic and make no sense, but Mother said the gods like to meddle in human affairs and hardly ever speaks what they mean. Bran sips slowly from his own muddy brown cup before he continues. “Your mother is afraid of the powers you may hold. Your brother has shown some gift but you—” he stops before finishing and cocks his head to the side as if he hears something or someone talking.

  “What powers? What do you mean Merlin has shown some gift? Stop playing with me and tell me something useful!” I yell angrily into his face as the ground beneath us begins to shake and rumble as a large crack in the earth appears.

  Shocked and surprised, I stare at the gaping crack which just emerged out of nowhere. I look at my hands which are pulsing with a vibrant indigo glow. Then they appear just as they always have except for the little white half moons that circle my palm.

  I look up to ask Bran what is going on, but all that is left is the downy black raven which situates itself onto my own small shoulders. It nips at my ear playfully but I feel like I must be dreaming. None of this is real—is it? Out of the shadows, Merlin walks into the open, his face flushed and sweaty as if he had run all the way here.

  “What do you want?” I snap at him as I push by him bumping into his shoulder causing him to take a step back.

  He turns to grab my arm but the raven snips at him with its sharp beak. “See brother, you’re not the only one that is special,” my words sound hollow and mean and I break away from the woods and Merlin stands dumbfounded.

  As I walk home, I know Merlin is a ways behind me, keeping his distance. but as his twin, I know his feelings and I know I had hurt him badly with my words and actions. He was always the sensitive one. I wish I could take back my words said in anger but I won’t. I have powers too and if Mother refuses to train me, I will find someone else. The raven lets out a caw as if an agreement to my thoughts. I stroke his soft wing wishing I had feathers to fly the open sky and be free from earthly problems.

  I am almost thirteen and a husband will be found for me soon so I realize I don’t have much time, especially if Father has someone in mind. These thoughts cause my stomach to turn to water because Merlin gets to stay home while I am shipped wherever my future husband calls home. My blood boils and my stomach lurches at the thought of leaving home.

  I decided right then I will refuse to take a husband even if it means Father throws me out and declares me dead to him. The raven with his sharp beak makes a warbling then pierces my ear spilling droplets of blood to the soak up in the ground. Some oaths exact some type of payment setting the intentions into the ground to take root.

  Chapter Five

  Merlin keeps his distance for weeks busy with father as Mother kept me busy in the garden teaching me the different medical properties of her garden. She allowed me access to some of the books hidden deep within her cedar chest and she would ask me questions upon returning them. Mother had also started making sure I knew how to run a house—cooking, sewing, cleaning, mending. But she did teach me fun things such as dancing, drawing, and fortune telling with her worn cards.

  “Everything has its reason, remember this Mim. And don’t be so hard on your brother, he is a man and is privy to certain aspects of life,” my mother told me the day she quizzed me on the plants in her garden. She grinned at me with each correct answer and shooed me away to find Merlin and make my peace with him. I had missed him especially since we have never gone this long without any interaction.

  I darted through the door and behind the house hoping Merlin was in the pasture with the sheep. Only the lonely wind blew sweeping dust and dirt into a whirlwind dance. I searched everywhere for Merlin that day even searching the village, but I couldn’t find him or Wolfy anywhere. My raven flew overhead and let out a squawk and took off towards the direction of the god's trees. Merlin must be in the forest, I wonder as I sharply change directions and follow my feathered friend.

  A few steps into the woods and I can see the footprints of my tall brother, his furry companion and someone else set deep within the snow-covered forest floor. As I walk through the woods the twigs and leaves crunch and snap as the wind whistles through the reedy trees. My breath comes out in little puffs of smoke and my fingers are red from the cold. I hurry to the clearing hoping to shortly return to our warm home where Mother had spiced mead heating over the wood in the hearth.

  I find Merlin standing in front of the god’s trees with a hood covering his head with a sack slung across his back and a walking stick in the other as if he was about to travel a long way. More surprising is that the other set of footprints belonged to my Mother. She stood beside Merlin speaking in a low tone that I can’t hear what she is saying. She places her hand on his face and pulls him into her arms for a hug. I watched Merlin wipe a tear from his eye with his arm.

  “Where do you think you be going, brother,” my voice causes both Mother and Merlin to jump. “You wouldn’t leave without the love and blessing of your twin sister nor without a proper farewell, now would ye?” I asked playfully as I walked toward them.

  “Nay, sister I would not. Mother said you would be along shortly.” He grins at us both as he sweeps me off my feet into a big bear of a hug. “I must be off sister for the gods have declared that I live amongst the forest and animals until the time comes that I am needed.” His words fall heavy on my ears and my heart but before I can object Mother speaks up.

  “Mim, this is the only way to protect your brother from the Christians. They have come asking your father to allow Merlin to join their order and I will not have it and neither will the gods,” she growled as she muttered something that sounded like, “talk—prophecy.”

  I kiss Merlin’s warm, fleshy cheek whispering in his ear, “I’m sorry.” Tears streamed down my face as my heart fluttered in my chest as Merlin and Wolfy disappeared past the god’s tree deeper into the forest. Mother’s hand had found mine as we stood for a few seconds longer until the howling of a wolf could be heard. Mother turns around and pulls me along as my raven follows overhead in the icy wind.

  As my mother and I made our way back towards our home, she turns to me as the wind sweeps her hair wildly around her head, “You will have to be brave Mim for both you and Merlin are needed if our ways are to survive,” her face stern but proud, her eyes wait for an answer and all I could do was shake my head. My mother stalks through the snow as little droplets of blood spread on the white snow. The black onyx in her hand, tightly gripped as she whispered under her breath. I was sure she was asking the gods to watch over Merlin.

  I was happy to reach our home with the warm fire and hot drink which warmed me from the inside out. Mother looked tired but satisfied at her work today. She must have pocketed the jagged black stone, for she set to preparing the table for supper, as I filled clay bowls with steaming hot rabbit stew with sweet carrots and rosemary. Father appeared in the doorway knocking off the white powder sticking to his hat and coat. He takes his muddy boots of
f and heads for his favorite chair, lighting his pipe as he warmed by the fire. I watched Mother and Father waiting for one of them to say something about Merlin not being there. Surely Father didn’t know that Mother had sent Merlin to live deep within the god’s forest.

  I burnt my hand on the bubbling cauldron hanging over the spitting flames and as my hand flies away from the fire, the moons on my hand are fuller than they were when they appeared. Did this mean something? And if it did, what? I was lost in thought when Father takes his seat at the head of the small square table. His bowl steaming with the stew as Mother sets a cup of ale in front of him and then takes her place beside Father. I get up from where I was stooped and sit in the chair that had been mine for as long as I could remember. I look at Merlin’s empty seat and hot tears well up in my eyes, so I look down at my bowl of rabbit and carrots letting salty tears fall into the bubbling stew.

  “So Merlin’s off then?” Father asks in his deep voice as he stares at the empty place which Merlin would have occupied. “As the gods will it, so shall it be,” Father announces as he dips his bread into the thick broth. Mother says nothing as she takes small bites of bread. I sip my watered ale and wonder how my brother will survive the winter, but deep down I knew Mother would have made sure he was protected before seeing him off.

  A few days later, a dingy man in a weird looking tunic with a wooden cross laying on his chest, came walking up the lane asking for my Father. I knew at that moment this was one of the priests who wanted my brother. His eyes the color of dragon scales scans the farm eyeing my Mother as she walks out the door of our cottage. Father must have seen the man coming because he met him halfway and gives him a sad story about how his boy had died of the bloody flux.

  I hear the priest high pitched voice as he told my father he was sorry for his loss but that he could expect nothing else as he favored the heathen ways instead of the one true God. My Father was never a violent man, however, he grabbed the priest by his hanging cross as he balled his big hand into a fist and popped the man in the mouth. Blood, teeth, and spit flew from the priest’s mouth as he tried to loosen Father’s grip on him. Slipping his neck out of his long cross necklace the priest took off down the lane blubbering like a baby as blood run down his chin.

  Father was left holding the crudely made cross as Mother cackled loudly at the man as he disappeared into the village. The priest never came down the lane after that. I smiled that whole day remembering the ugly priest’s face when my Father grabbed him. I found myself laughing out loud wishing Merlin would have been there to see the priest bloodied.

  Chapter Six

  After Merlin disappeared in the forest, the weeks bled into one another. The world seemed darker without my brother. Mother grew increasingly sick after Merlin left. She tried to hide it from Father and me, but I was smarter than she liked to think. I was trying new mixtures of plants and roots trying to cure her. Nothing seemed to be working as she lay in her bed wasting away. Her once supple skin was thin and transparent, her shiny black hair lay dull on her pillow, her eyes burned with fever instead of a zeal for knowledge and life.

  Mother died the year after Merlin left the village, but before she grew too weak to talk she confirmed the gossip in the village—that my brother and I had been fathered by the god, Bran—he came to her in the god’s forest and made love to her under the eyes of the sky, twinkling in their black abode. Bran had told Mother that she would carry the children needed to balance our world. One light to bring about a golden age while the other was of the dark able to walk both worlds. After telling me the prophecy, Mother’s left hand opens, her palm scarred from the jagged onyx she carried with her always. Without any words, I knew she wanted me to take it so I placed the small stone in the pocket of my apron.

  Her death tore my heart into pieces and left me silent for weeks. Father tried to make me smile, but his heart was torn asunder also. I stepped into Mother’s role as Father went about as usual. I did the best I could without having Mother around. Late at night, I would sit in the god’s forest and twirl the cool black stone with my fingers wishing it was still in Mother’s hand and she was alive. I watched as my Father eyed the lane to our house as if he was waiting on someone, maybe Merlin, I wondered. I hoped and wished. One sunny day I was in the garden with my raven cawing softly when I heard a thundering of hoofs and loud cries.

  Black smoke twirled high in the sky as ashes started to rain down. I ran around the side of the cottage to see our village in flames. People were running and screaming as they were run down by men with huge crosses stitched onto their tunics. Warrior priests?? Was that even a thing? They swung sharp swords and huge clubs as others rounded up the young children. Father having seen the smoke billowing up into the clear sky while milking the goats races to the front of the cottage, where I stand. His face flushed and his hair stuck to his face as sweat dripped down his nose.

  “Get to the forest now!” He shouted as he grabbed a shovel. “No matter what you hear, don’t come out of there. If they enter the forest, they won’t be able to hurt you. You have the gods protection.” Father kisses me on my forehead and pushes me off toward the forest. “Hurry, you don’t have much time.” He adds as the snorting horses make their way down the lane stomping and frothing. The men were yelling words I couldn’t understand as I took off through the meadows.

  My father didn’t stand a chance with his shovel. I was at the edge of the forest when I turned to see a priest run a sword through my Father’s belly spilling his life force on the dirt lane. This was punishment for Father abuse of that priest the year Merlin left. A terror-filled scream froze in my throat. Getting myself killed would not avenge my Father’s death. I had to live to be able to exact any revenge. Anger towards Merlin bubbles—he should have been here. I can’t help but think as I step into the silent forest. Some of the village people have come into the forest to escape the madness. Children cried for their parents as parents cried for their missing children. I have everyone follow me into the dark part of the forest. At least it wasn’t as dark as the Black Forest. Sun flickered through the branches of the trees and we made our way through spider webs and thick brambles.

  My raven flew ahead of us scouting the land for any trouble. We walked what seemed like hours. Many people had turned back to see if anything was left to our village. I didn’t have anything or anyone so I kept going with the few followers I had. As we reached the Usk river, we all collapsed at the river bed sipping water right from the river and splashing sweaty faces with the cool water. I couldn’t get the acrid smell of the village burning to leave my nose. Some of the older kids strip down and jump in the river laughing as they splashed each other forgetting the terror they had just left behind.

  As night fell, I knew I needed to go on alone, so I crept quietly away from the snores and soft breathing of the people I had known all my life. The trees looked jagged as their shadows stretched across the forest floor. The moon full and wet lit up the night in soft white light. The raven was perched on my shoulder with his eyes closed. Feeling lost and not sure of what to do next, I call out for Bran, for Merlin, anyone. I felt like I was a lost cause when a glowing light lit up the ground around my feet.

  A tall glowing man appeared. Bran.. I notice that my raven is no longer sitting on my shoulder. I looked around to see if he flew into a nearby branch but the shadows flitted about and I couldn’t see very well. Bran’s silvery laugh echoes through the forest as a blackbird that looks similar to mine lands on his shoulder.

  “Daughter, I have never left you. My eyes are always on you and your brother. But we have other things to discuss. Since your Mother has passed it is time you learn who and what you are and I know only one person who can show you.” His bright eyes held mine as he speaks sincerely. “She will teach you but you must listen and learn, there’s not a lot of time left as the Christians are unhappy with our people. There is worse to come so you must be ready. Follow the raven, it knows where to take you,” his voice trails off as
he disappears.

  A raven squawking in his place takes to the bright night sky and flies further into the woods. So of course, I follow. It is almost daybreak when we come to a road which forks—the left side continues leading into the Black Forest while the other road looked lighter as the sun stretched across the sky. The bird takes the left lane and I gulp three times and take off after him. We go deeper than the day when Merlin and I had found Wolfy. I am tired and wish for home but we keep going until we come to a dark cave hidden by wild honeysuckles. Morgana’s home—the in-between. She is neither here or there but is everywhere. I step into the cool; damp cave and walk until I am hunched over almost on my knees.

  Chapter Seven

  I find Morgana deep within the forest where the sun shies away. She immediately knew who I was so she took me under her wing—treated me as a favorite daughter. She taught me that I had magical abilities and the sight to see if the future. I had forgotten Mother’s cards, but Morgana gifted me my own for my birthday one year. I loved to sleek feeling of the cards as I shuffled them, drawing one at a time discerning the meanings behind each one. Morgana left the cave for days on end hunting food and visiting the surrounding villages helping the ill with her potions. On one particular lonely day, I take the cards—shuffle them flipping four over. The cards revealed a handsome man on horseback—a knight or mayhap a prince, the birth of someone special, a bloody war, and the rebirth of something great rising from the ashes. This was a curious reading, I thought as I replaced the cards in the soft sheepskin sack.

  Morgana never spoke of Merlin only to say he was alive and on track. I worked hard learning various spells as well as how to brew potions. I could change the weather to suit me if I liked. Morgana did warn me that it would be whispered that I was a witch and I would be killed if I ever showed anyone my true powers. So I learned how to control my emotions so I didn’t cause the ground to open up and swallow anyone. Morgana taught me how to change into animals, which is quite useful in let’s say a Wizard Duel.