There was another moment of silence, this one with an exasperated tension to it, because everyone was getting tired of the outrageous crap that kept coming out of my mouth.
Fuar looked up at the other Icons, her semi-divine face looking genuinely confused.
“Did he just insinuate that he already battled an Icon?”
I risked a quick look behind me. Mother Glade and the others were speechless. Pan just gave Fuar a baffled shrug.
“Why?” I asked. “Why do you not believe me? Should he have been unable to find me by now? Was the guy supposed to be really bad at his job?”
“You are over a dozen Rises too soon to survive your first battle with an Icon, Challenger,” the Huntsman growled. “Even a nascent one such as the Raw-Mawed Wolf.”
“I just described him to you,” I replied in an even, quiet voice. “I should have no knowledge of what he looks like, if I hadn’t met him yet. But I did. And now he’s dead,” I added flatly. They scoffed at me again, but I ignored it. “But you know what his real problem was?” I asked, leaning forward. Then, I activated just enough of my dragon bond to enlarge my teeth and gain a second row of them.
“He tasted terrible,” I finished, snapping my fangs together. Then I retracted my teeth to their normal form. “So, yeah. Not afraid. Not worried. But you guys can still go if you want.”
But nobody moved. They all just kept staring at me.
“You’re bluffing,” Fuar finally said, blinking rapidly.
“Your claim is impossible, both to do and to prove,” the Huntsman said solemnly. “I would not believe you even if you swore a magic oath in affirmation.”
“That’s fine. I didn’t kill him for you. I don’t need you to believe me. Quick question though,” I said, grabbing the mail over my leather tabard and raising it slightly. “You’re an Icon and a self-proclaimed huntsman, so I was wondering if you could tell what animal this came from?”
“You can’t tell what kind of animal just by…” The horned giant’s angry voice trailed off as he stared at the leather under my mail. “Icon. That hide was made with the energy of an Icon.”
“He tasted like kale,” I replied as I stared the demigods down. “I don’t know how that was possible, but it’s true. Maybe the energy of every Icon tastes that way. But Raw-maw’s secret didn’t lie in his tracking skills, or his magic, or his physical might.” I pointed again at my tabard. “His real strength was that he makes a fantastic jacket. I mean, check out this swag. Both warm and fashionable. Right?”
They didn’t answer me.
Swag? Wrong-me asked. Really?
Hush and don’t be jealous.
“We actually have an answer for you already,” I continued. “Go ahead and show up at that river you guys mentioned, that Bear-Paw, or Chicken’s Foot, or whatever. Bring your entire army. Both of you. So that we can tell you no, and we both can end this whole war right then and there. You can even come early if you want. We’ll be waiting. And I’ll be hungry—” I bared my teeth again—“and probably ready for a new pair of boots.”
Fuar stared at me, all mirth gone from her face. The temperature around me dropped a few degrees with that glare.
“You overstep with your threat, Challenger,” she said frostily. “Do not pretend you will dare to do what no other Challenger has ever—”
“Bitch I eat people,” I said, before she could finish. She gazed at me for a moment longer, and then vanished into ice and snow. There was a sound of a horn, and when I looked over the Bloody-Horned Huntsman was gone as well.
How was that? I asked Wrong-Me, still hating that I needed to work with the insecure idiot.
That was actually perfect, thanks, Wrong-Me sent back. Great job.
Gratitude and approval emanated from his side of our body, and I felt repulsed.
That’s it, I snapped. If you’re going to get weird, I’m done. Take the reins again.
I crawled out of the driver’s seat as fast as I could, so that I would have enough energy to stop Wrong-Me from doing something stupid later.
I stayed as still as I could while I waited for Teeth to surrender control. Afterwards, I turned around to look at the crowd of people and Icons staring at me.
“That was,” the Stag Lord began, slowly, as if he had trouble searching for the right word. “Effective,” he finally said.
Merada and Lady Titania were both giving poor Breena angry, incredulous looks.
“Your new Challenger is a cannibal?” the fairy queen demanded.
“Ye let him eat people?” the Woad Princess shouted. “Blood and thunder, Breena! Ye had one job!”
“It’s not her fault,” I said, holding up my hand. “It’s a side effect of the dragon bond an ancestor of mine underwent. The power is activating now, and so are the habits that come along with it. But so far I’ve only eaten things that would have either eaten me or harmed someone else.”
“A dragon bond,” Great Pan said, nodding in comprehension. “That makes perfect sense, then. Thank you for explaining.”
Everyone else seemed to relax at my words as well.
Really? I thought angrily at Breena. I play the dragon-race card, and now my behavior is socially acceptable?
I don’t know what to tell you, Wes, Breena sighed to me. Stereotypes are still a thing, okay?
“Back to the matter at hand, Challenger,” the Stag Lord said solemnly. “Your courage is admirable, but it may have doomed us all. Our losses have been great. Even if we pool our forces together, we will still be overmatched when we come to battle.”
“No, actually, that won’t matter,” I replied. “In the first place, because Fuar was lying about where she is going to attack. They’ll be attacking the Three-Arm River, not Bear-Paw. And they’ll be attacking a week earlier than she said they would.”
“How do you know this?” Mother Glade asked intently.
“Because her ambassador lied in his report,” I answered. “He thought I was one of the Malus Men and spilled all of the details when he tried to negotiate with me. Then he covered his story with Fuar to save his skin. And since the Malus Men really have been screwing around with her so much, she believed him.”
Great Pan started laughing. The other three Icons shot him a disapproving look.
“That does give us an advantage,” Lady Titania said, “but the problem of starvation remains for all of our people. Even the sprites,” she added sadly. “The late frost has killed too many crops, animals, and other sources of mana. The mutations from the Chaos Wound has corrupted and prevented their regrowth. Our peoples will still starve at the end of this year.”
“No they won’t,” I replied firmly. “The Steward is coming with more food. And even if she can’t make it, I brought about a thousand pounds of food and the seeds to plant more. If it’s still not enough, then after the Tumult is conquered, I’ll go back to Avalon, get some more supplies, and come back here with enough food to make sure your tribes make it through the next planting season.”
“Can you truly do all of that?” Lady Titania asked curiously. “Challengers do not normally possess that degree of authority, to command such resources from Avalon.”
“This one does,” Breena nodded confidently. Merada and the Icons looked at her curiously.
“Why?” the Stag Lord answered carefully. “Did the Steward command Avalon to grant him this degree of authority?”
“No,” Breena said simply. “But he can do so for the same reason those dozen Woadfolk in Woadfather tattoos have been standing quietly behind him all this time.”
Four glowing heads swiveled over to examine my retinue. The Gaelguard had been muting the glow of their tattoos to look like normal Woadfolk, but as the Icons watched, Alum gave a nod and the dozen warriors suddenly lit up.
“Gaelguard,” Mother Glade breathed. “Their kind has all but died out, like the Woadfathers.” She looked at me. “Where did you find these men and women? And why do they follow you?”
“They were in stasis
inside of an ancient structure on Avalon,” I answered. “And I will let them provide their own reasons for following me.”
I looked at Alum, and he nodded and stepped forward. He raised a fist over his heart, causing his tattoos to flare brighter for a moment as he answered the Icon.
“Greetings, honored Icon. We follow Lord Wes Malcolm to fulfill the obligation of the Woadlands made long ago to the Lord of Avalon. Avalon itself has bestowed the mantle of authority to this man, and so we raise our shields in service to the new Lord of Avalon.”
At that moment I realized everyone was getting tired of all the surprises I had brought with me today. Mother Glade began blinking.
“There hasn’t been a Lord in Avalon since before our time,” she said carefully. “The existence of new Gaelguard is impressive, but can the Challenger provide further evidence… of this… claim.” She trailed off as I unbuckled Breaker and held it up its handle and scabbard. I then transferred the weapon to one hand as I re-summoned Toirneach into being.
“Will these work?” I asked needlessly. “I know they’re both really old, but I’m assuming you still have some knowledge about them. Especially this one—” I waved the legendary axe around in a circle—“since it came from your world, anyway?”
“That is the lost axe of the future king of the Woadlands tribes,” the Stag Lord sighed. “Icons themselves have coveted that weapon, in order to unite the entire planet under one force. But it will fly from the hand of an unworthy wielder.” He stared hard at me. “You say you found this weapon on Avalon, and that the world truly recognized you as its planetary lord?”
“I did,” I replied, “and if you want official witnesses—” I motioned to the Testifiers, and all three stepped forward. I saw their eyes settle on Weylin, who looked at me and gave me an apologetic shrug.
Yes, famous family, the elf admitted privately. They went missing long ago exploring the site of an ancient Challenge. I don’t like to talk about it.
“Honored Icons,” he then said, turning his attention to the four demigods. “We have been with the Challenger ever since he helped us escape from the Malus Men’s dungeon. We have borne witness to all of his recent acts, including the recovery of the Woadlands weapon, the discovery of the Woadfathers and their Gaelguard, and the announcement from Avalon itself proclaiming him to be the rightful Planetary Lord. Rest assured that all said events have been…” He trailed off as the three of them prepared to recite their traditional oath.
“Witnessed in script,” Karim began.
“Witnessed in song,” Weylin dutifully added.
“Witnessed in stone,” Eadric finished.
“Therefore,” Weylin continued, “know that Lord Malcolm’s claim has been verified by representatives of all three colleges of our order.”
“Well, damn it all,” Great Pan quipped. “Let’s just all agree to do what he wants, before he pulls out another surprise, shall we?”
“What is the rest of your plan, Earthborn?” the Stag Lord asked tiredly. “And please, no more surprises.”
“Too late,” I said as I dismissed the axe and summoned the Woadfather seeds. “I don’t owe you these,” I said darkly. “I’m already here to clean up a mess the rest of you made by not honoring your part of the pact. These are two of the Woadfather seeds I possess. I have more. I have the resources to help you recover hundreds of previously lost trees, herbs, and other fauna. You’re worried about being able to recover? I can help the Woadlands undergo a period of discovery and prosperity, without counting what will be gained from ending the Tumult or Trial. But if I do that, the four of you, and your associated chieftains, elf lords, and fairy queens all submit to me. I won’t ask for much. I want the Woadlands to prosper, just as you all do. In fact, I really don’t want anything beyond a few trade deals and your promise to aid when I call for help, whether it’s to aid Avalon itself or another world under attack.”
“That last one has never been done,” Mother Glade interjected.
“From what I can tell in the unsealed ruins of Avalon, yes it has,” I rebutted. “But even if it hasn’t, understand that your world is in this state specifically because evil people from another planet have been attacking, sabotaging, and subverting it. And they’re good at it, because they practiced all the time back on their own world, where no one really had the power to stop them, because unlike you all, Earthborn don’t gain any power for doing the right thing. Until now.” I pointed to myself. “The only way you’re going to win, and stay winning, in case they decide to come back, is to get a leader that understands how they think, and use it against them. I did that on Avalon, and I can do it here. So here are your options,” I concluded. “Listen to me and my directions, and agree to do so in the future. You’ll have the permission to offer input and request aid, and I swear I’ll do my best for the Woadlands, and give you as much autonomy as I reasonably can. I’ll also provide resources to you, such as seeds to plant new Woadfather trees. I can give you these two right now if you agree to help. I have a whole grove of Woadfathers. If we put our heads together, we could probably find a way to bring back a Woadfather Monarch. That’s your first option. The second is to ignore me and to try to find one of the ancient Pathways and escape with your people, like the Dark Icons were offering, even though I just told you that she was lying in her offer, and both Merada and Breena can back up my story. I’ll give you five minutes to think it over.”
With that, I turned and walked away to give them space to discuss. My people followed me over.
“Bitch I eat people?” Val asked, walking next to me and giving me a side-eyed glance. I just shrugged.
“Seemed like the right line for the time. Can’t claim I came up with it though.”
Damn straight, Teeth said smugly.
You actually can’t claim it either, I told him sadly, remembering an ancient cartoon parody.
Wait, what? Teeth sputtered. No fair! I was gonna get it on a t-shirt and everything.
Yeah, well too late.
“So what will we do if they tell you no?” she asked. I shrugged again.
“Try to save the world without them. If we can’t, we’ll haul as many people back with us as I can fit through the Pathway. If we win, I yell at them, withhold all sorts of cool stuff from them, and probably still take as many people as I can fit through the Pathway.”
“They won’t say no.” Breena shook her head.
“Aye,” Merada agreed. “They won’t like it, but ye have too much on yer side. They’ll try to hedge first, though.”
“Hedging’s fine,” I decided. “My goal is to save lives and not get stabbed in the back. I’m not looking to take their jobs any more than I need to.”
And that was the truth. I didn’t want to manage an entire extra planet. They could keep it.
“By the way,” Merada said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “Thank ye.”
“You’re welcome,” I said with a grin. “But we’re not out of the woods yet.” I gestured to the forest around the clearing, hearing at least several groans at my horrible pun. Merada shook her head, but was still smiling.
“Ye got us this far,” she insisted. “So thank ye. Yer a good man, and good men don’t hear thanks often enough.”
“Neither do their friends,” I said as I smiled back, looking around. “Everyone, thank you for following me through disaster after disaster. I couldn’t ask for a better team.”
At that moment, one of Titania’s servants flew toward us.
“The Icons are ready for you to hear their decision, honored Challenger.”
My people and I followed her back to where the Icons were standing. The Stag Lord nodded, and began speaking for the other three.
“We have agreed to submit to your counsel, Challenger,” he said, and I noted his omission of any noble title, despite my earlier words and the ability gained from my Profession. “Should you save us from this disaster, we will go one step further, and recognize your claim upon Avalon. At that point, w
e would like the opportunity to negotiate what that means for the Woadlands.”
“That’s fine, though I won’t change my terms,” I replied. “Now, I believe you said that you were going to follow my directions?”
“Yes,” the Stag Lord replied after a pause.
“Okay,” I said, “bring me up to date. I’ve heard a bit about how the Frost Tumult is slowly and inexorably sweeping its way through the Woadlands, but what has the Chaos Wound done?”
“The Chaos Wound has migrated and mutated to one of the Primary groves of the Woadlands,” Mother Glade answered. “It is currently bound to one of the remaining Woadfathers in our world, and it is corrupting plant and wildlife at a rapid rate. We have attempted to strike it, but the Malus Men have reinforced the site with a variety of monsters, including Horde, and the Bloody-Horned Huntsman himself guards the site. We have been able to keep the corruption from spreading, but striking into it has resulted in losses. Since the Bloody-Horned Huntsman guards the place himself, we are prevented from using our might as Icons to destroy it directly, and in truth such an act would overtax our corporeal forms, allowing Caill Fuar, or even the vestiges of previously destroyed Dark Icons to finish us off, and then bring about the Woadlands’ defeat.”
Right, I reminded myself, it was hard to kill an Icon permanently. Except when you eat them, apparently. But enough of that.
“So you know the location of the Trial’s center, you just don’t have the resources to destroy it yourselves,” I clarified. The antlered giant nodded.
“Were it the only Trial, I could rally our armies, battle my brother directly, and allow our heroes to confront, overwhelm, and destroy the Chaos Wound themselves. But it would be costly,” he admitted. “And I would need my fellow Icons to defend me from attack while I recuperate. Our losses and my diminished strength would prove to be our undoing when the Hoarfolk attacked.”
“Alright,” I said. “What if a small, tightly-knit team were to strike at the Chaos Wound themselves while you held off the Huntsman for us?”
Woad Children (Challenger's Call Book 3) Page 45