The Devil's Cave: A Humorous Fantasy Novel (The Legends of Damon Arkon: The World's Greatest Swordfighter)

by Everson Cook

  "Listen, I'm saying calling him a healer would be the same as calling either you or I a healer. I can't save her. Can you? No? Well, that's Harry."

  Damon placed a hand on Kaateria's side, careful not to apply too much pressure to avoid causing her pain. Kaateria groaned. It was the first noise she'd made since she hit her head on the ground.

  "Maybe I am a healer," Damon said. He removed his hand and stared at it in amazement. He rubbed it together with the other and prepared to touch Kaateria with both.

  Belosic pushed Damon aside as Belosic dismounted his horse and made his way to Harry's house. He was deliberate in his movements. He climbed the steps to the front door and pounded on it with his meaty fist. The wait for someone to come to the door felt long, because in reality, it was. Belosic pounded again with a little more force than before if that was possible.

  A wooden window in the top of the door slid open and the face of Harry appeared in its place. Harry's skin was wrinkled and gray. On top of the wrinkles he was covered in age spots. His hair was white and fluffed out to the sides like wings. An equally white wispy beard covered his chin and disappeared below the window. He wore spectacles with multiple lenses on them. The lenses that were currently locked into place magnified his eyes to three times their normal size. The frames hung precariously on his greasy nose that he scrunched up to keep the glasses from escaping. He tilted his head up to peer through them before bringing his head down and pushing the glasses further onto his nose to make them more secure, if only for a minute.

  "Geez, you're a big boy," Harry said as he eyed up Belosic. He unlocked the lenses and flipped them out. "Didn't make a difference," he chuckled. He peered down at Kaateria. "Geez, what'd you do to her? She doesn't look good."

  "Please," Belosic said. "We need a healer."

  "Yeah, do you know any good ones?" Damon asked. He was standing off to the side, out of Harry's line of sight.

  "A wise guy, huh?" Harry said. "Can only mean Damon Arkon. He's the only person I know who can make himself laugh at his own wit. Unfortunately, he's also the only one who thinks he has wit."

  "Hello, Harry," Damon said. He moved closer to the door.

  "How's the knee?" Harry asked.

  "Well, it was acting up whenever it rained. Almost cost me my life. But it's better now after I had a real healer look at it."

  "Bah," Harry spat. "I don't need to take this. Not at my house. And definitely not from Damon Arkon."

  Harry made to slam the window closed turning his body back toward the inside of his house, but Belosic caught it in his hand and held it open.

  "Please forgive my, uh," Belosic racked his mind for the word, but couldn't find anything appropriate, so he abandoned the search. "Please, I need your help. She needs your help. Your sign says you're a healer. So, heal her." Belosic raised Kaateria's body high enough that Harry could see her with ease. "Please."

  Harry turned back toward Belosic.

  "Fine, but Arkon stays outside."

  "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. I can't let him out of my sight." Belosic trusted Damon to come back when they needed to get Kaateria to a healer. But the situation was different now, and Belosic's trust for Damon Arkon only went so far.

  Damon raised his chained hands up. Harry raised an eyebrow. He was familiar enough with Damon to know not to question how he got into his current predicament.

  "It'd be easier for me to work if he wasn't within mine."

  "I'll keep him in line," Belosic said.

  "Good luck," Harry and Damon said in unison.

  Harry swung his door open and ushered them all inside. He motioned for Belosic to follow him.

  They walked to the back and entered a room off the kitchen. The room was full of books, some on shelves and some hanging precariously on flat surfaces. There were baskets full of various herbs, fungi, and flowers. A well-used kettle rested inside an inactive fireplace that was built into the far wall.

  Belosic nodded his head toward the table. Damon bent over it and swept his arms across it, tossing the books aside.

  "Bah. I had a system, you know," Harry said.

  "Me too. Mine seems like it was pretty effective." Damon looked from the floor, to the now cleared table, back to Harry who threw his arms up in disgust.

  Belosic walked over to the table and laid Kaateria down on it.

  "So what happened here?" Harry asked. He walked around the table examining Kaateria's frail body and tattered clothes with only his eyes. He flipped the lenses back and forth as he went.

  "She was stabbed. In both sides," Belosic said.

  "Him?" Harry asked pausing to direct his attention to Damon.

  "No." Belosic answered before Damon could. Which would've been surprising if Damon wasn't too busy being offended by the implication.

  "You?" Harry asked. He glanced up at Belosic. Then he dropped his eyes and kept walking, taking everything in.

  "No," Belosic growled. "Look, what difference does it make who did it? How is that going to change how you approach it?"

  "If either one of you did it, I'd charge you more," Harry said matter-of-factly. He stopped walking completely now. He had returned back to where he had started. "Speaking of, how do you plan to pay me for this?"

  "Ah, c'mon Harry. Stop wasting time. Get to it," Damon said. He held his hands out toward Kaateria.

  Harry stood his ground. He had done enough business with Damon at this point to know to get the money up front. It was much too difficult and very expensive to track Damon from brothel to tavern back to brothel to collect a few coins for a quick stitch.

  Belosic sighed heavily and stuck his hand inside his tunic. He rummaged around and pulled out a leather pouch. He weighed it in his hand and then tossed it to Harry who caught it.

  "Are we good?" Belosic asked.

  Harry opened the pouch and looked at the shiny gold coins inside.

  "Very," he said with a smile.

  Harry placed the bag on top of an overhead shelf. He then walked over to a heavy-looking pot that rested on a shelf next to the fire. Harry dipped his hand in the bucket which was full of a black, tar-like substance. It smelled like death and decay. The pot was emblazoned with a skull. He pulled his hands out from it and held them up to try and keep too much from dripping on the floor as he walked closer to Kaateria.

  "You sure about this Harry?" Damon asked. He took a seat on the counter.

  "Shut it," Belosic said.

  "Where did you get your degree in healing?" Harry asked. The substance inexplicably began crawling up his arms and pooled around his fingers.

  "I'm a fighter Harry. A swordfighter. The greatest swordfighter. In the world. You know that. I'm not in the business of healing people."

  "Then let me work," Harry said. Then turning toward Belosic added, "I told you. Many have tried, better men have failed. No one can keep this man quiet."

  Harry was bringing his hands to Kaateria's sides when a loud commotion came from the kitchen. The sound caused Harry to jump.

  "Bless the Gods woman," Harry yelled. "I'm trying to work back here!"

  Mona, Harry's wife, burst into the room. She was a wisp of a woman. She wore a beige dress with the sleeves rolled up. An equally beige apron was tied tightly around her tiny waist. It was stuffed with mushrooms, fruits, and flowers. Supple leather slippers stained with berry juice covered her feet. Her gray hair was pulled back and tied off with a strip of leather. Some of the hair had escaped and drooped itself along the slight curve of her cheek. Her skin color matched her outfit. Her eyes were as wild as her appearance.

  "Damon!" she squealed as she noticed the world's greatest swordfighter sitting on the counter.

  "Hello, Mona," Damon slipped off the counter. He went to give her a hug and then realized it wasn't going to be easy with the chains. Mona gave him a kiss on each cheek.

  "Why the chains? Have you been a bad boy again?" she asked with a wink. Her hand dragged down his chest.

  Harry rolled his eyes.

&
nbsp; "You know me, Mona. I'm always getting tied up for one reason or another," Damon smirked.

  "Harry! Harry!" Mona yelled when she took her eyes off of Damon long enough to notice her husband standing over the prone woman.

  "What?" Harry spat. He wiggled his nose in order to push his glasses further up on his face.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'm about to save this woman's life." Harry motioned to Kaateria lying on the table. The tar-like substance didn't move.

  "With our dinner?" Mona put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to peer at him sideways.

  "What's she talking about Harry?" Belosic said.

  "Who's this?" Mona asked. Her eyes widened as she took in Belosic's size.

  "What's she talking about Harry?" Belosic ignored the question. There was only one thing that he was concerned about at the moment and it wasn't polite introductions.

  Damon strode over to where Harry was standing. Damon stuck out his tongue and took a long lick on Harry's finger. He rolled the substance around in his mouth before swallowing it down. Damon smacked his lips with satisfaction.

  "Delicious as always Mona," Damon said.

  Mona curtsied.

  Damon began rummaging through the dishes scattered about the room in search of a clean bowl. He turned toward Belosic, "I told you, Belosic. I told you. But would you listen? No."

  Harry stood there momentarily in silence. Then he began frantically pulling down some lenses on his glasses. He flipped them and pulled down some more until he found the combination he was searching for. He held his fingers up close to his face and examined them.

  "Bah," Harry said. He flipped all of the lenses back up.

  "I'm sorry, dear. There weren't any clean pots."

  "So you used the Cauldron of Death?"

  "Cauldron of Death. I really like the name of that. Very appropriate for a place to keep a healing potion." Damon lifted up a bowl and flashed it at Mona, "Do you mind?"

  "Well, you were resting and I wanted to gather some more of the fixings for potion brewing later. I figured I'd be back and have the dishes clean before you even noticed I was gone." Mona shook her head at Damon who scooped the bowl deep into the caldron and pulled out some of the dark sludge.

  "This is wonderful," Damon said. "I mean, not for my friend of course. The woman on the table. The one who you were supposed to be healing. Not this guy. I barely know him. But, when I'm right. I'm right." Damon sat back down and crossed his legs. Having found no clean utensils, he tilted the bowl toward his mouth and waited for the thick, black goop to slide out.

  "You barely know her," Belosic said.

  Kaateria groaned again. Her face twisted up as pain ripped through her body. Her eyelids squeezed tight.

  "I thinks she's agreeing with me," Damon said. "Kaateria, if you can hear me, which I'm assuming you can since you just agreed with me, nod twice if you like me more than Belosic."

  Belosic picked up a chair and threw into the wall on the other side of the room from him. It shattered sending splinters in every direction.

  "Enough," Belosic growled. "Enough. This woman is quite obviously in pain. She has lost enough blood that it's possible she's on the verge of death. Are we seriously going to sit here and argue over such trivial matters as who she likes more?" Belosic asked.

  Damon considered his options. He could say yes, but that would likely result in death. Very likely his own. Possibly Kaateria's. He could say no, but wasn't willing to admit to Belosic that he was wrong. He decided it was best if he just considered it a rhetorical question and said nothing at all.

  Belosic turned toward Harry, "Now, you either need to start healing her, or give me that coin back, so I can pay someone who can."

  Harry meekly nodded his head in agreement. He slid his glasses back up his face with his licked-clean finger. He glanced around for the things he would need.

  Mona ran from the room. She came back not too long after with a bucket full of water she had filled from the well outside. She set it down beside the table. Mona grabbed a cloth, dipped it in the cool, clear liquid, and began cleaning the blood from Kaateria's sides. While she worked she softly hummed an old elvish song about fighting death.

  Damon recognized the tune, but didn't know the words.

  Belosic did, however, and sung them softly under his breath. The man could really carry a tune. Damon was impressed. Although he did nothing to give Belosic that impression.

  Mona smiled softly at Belosic as she continued to work.

  "Harry, dear. She's ready," Mona said. She placed the cloth into the bucket that was now full of murky, red water and moved away from the table to go stand by Damon.

  Harry walked over with a bowl full of a thick tar-like substance.

  "You sure that's not dinner, Harry? I don't see my bowl," Damon said, "and that stuff looks awfully similar to what you tried using before."

  Mona elbowed him in the ribs.

  "Bah," Harry said.

  Mona gave Harry an encouraging smile.

  Harry adjusted the lenses on his glasses to magnify the wounds. He stuck his free hand in the bowl and pulled out a healthy amount of the substance. He smoothed it over her side. Then he went to the other side and repeated the step. After he was satisfied that he had covered the impacted areas fully he stepped away from the table.

  "Now, we wait," he said. He placed the bowl aside and flipped up the lenses.

  "What?" Damon asked. "That's it. Now, we wait? How do we even know if what you did worked?"

  "You'll know," Harry said. Mona nodded in agreement.

  "I hate to say this, but Damon's right," Belosic said.

  "Thank you. I mean, not the part about hating to say you agree with me though. That part was pretty unnecessary."

  "We don't have time to wait. We need to know if this is going to work now. We wait any longer and she's dead."

  "There is no way to rush this. The only thing you can do is give it time to work. Rush it and she dies. Wait, and she, well, she has a better chance of living. Let's leave it at that."

  "So, what you're saying is we have no other choice," Belosic said.

  Harry shrugged.

  "I think this is the part where we hope and pray," Damon said.

  "We'll wait," Belosic said. "But after we've waited, if she's not fully healed, you'll need to find someone to save you." Belosic pushed his chair back and stood. He stormed out of the room and went outside. He needed some fresh air.

  No one said anything. Harry chewed on the inside of his lip and stared off into space. Mona, looking for something to take her mind off of what could happen to Harry, began to tidy the room. Damon waited as long as he could

  "Well, then. How about a drink?" Damon said. He slapped his hands before rubbing them together.

  "Bah," Harry said. His train of thought was broken. And he wasn't really in a celebratory mood. What with his impending death and all. He waved a hand at Damon in disgust and walked out of the room.

  "I'll clean some glasses," Mona said.

  24

  Belosic was sitting outside. His back was pressed against the wall and he twiddled a stick to keep his mind occupied. The ground was wet where he sat down. He wasn't sure from what. And since he was already wet, he didn't get up and move from his original spot. He didn't look up when the door swung open either.

  Damon sat down beside him. He offered Belosic one of the two pints he carried out.

  Belosic took it from him. Then chucked it across the yard. The mug hit a tree and shattered.

  Damon's eyes flashed in disbelief. He gathered himself and took a casual sip of his drink. He held his voice steady and said, "That was some of the best home-brew in the Five Kingdoms. They let it age for four seasons. What Harry lacks for in healing skills, he makes up for with his skills as a brewer. And you... you just threw it away." Damon shook his head. He took another sip, then added, "If you didn't want it, I would've gladly drank it."

  "I'm guessing you've already had you
r fair share."

  "I've had my share. I wouldn't say it was necessarily fair."

  They sat there in silence. They both stared off into the woods. Night was falling and the shadows were getting long and thick. Belosic continued to twiddle his stick. Damon drank. He kept the obvious sex joke to himself. The one about Belosic twiddling his stick and the shape of the shadows.

  "She'll be ok, you know," Damon said. Because he had to say something and he had already resigned himself to not telling the joke.

  Meanwhile, Belosic said nothing. He watched a squirrel as it jumped from one tree to the next. Assured in its movements. Free to go wherever he chose. It reminded Belosic of a time when he was too young to wield a sword. Not the tree part, of course, but the feel of freedom. The only thing that could set him free now, though, would be death. And Belosic didn't expect that to come for him anytime soon. Unless it was by boredom. That he could possibly see.

  "I mean it. I know I said Harry was a terrible healer, and I stand by that. I've seen him turn a tiny nick into a bloodbath." Damon chuckled as he remembered the events that lead up to that. It involved a lot of drinking. For everyone. But especially for the bleeder. "There was so much blood. You wouldn't believe it. And really, all the guy needed was some spit and an aloe leaf. The guy could've lived if he had any other healer available to him than Har--"

  Belosic cleared his throat.

  Damon looked in his direction.

  "You were saying," Belosic said.

  "About the blood?"

  "No, about Kaateria. About how she was going to be ok."

  "Oh, right. Yeah, well, are you sure you don't want to hear this other thing first?"

  "I think I got the gist of it."

  "Ok, but it was really crazy."

  Belosic glared at him.

  "Ok, ok. So, you know that stuff that Harry put on her sides? That stuff that looked like there was no way it was going to work? Well, it appears to actually be working."

  "How so?" Belosic asked. He sat up and stopped twiddling his stick. He leaned forward as he waited for Damon to respond.

  Damon lifted his glass for another sip of ale. Belosic snatched it from Damon's lips. Some of the amber liquid splashed down Damon's throat. The rest of it dribbled down his beard and onto his lap. Belosic threw the mug and it shattered against the same tree as his had earlier.