by Laura Lond
“One purple berry will make you invisible for ten minutes,” explained the Swirg. “One red berry lets you fly, also for ten minutes. One pink berry will make you resistant to spells and magical traps, for the same amount of time.”
“Really? And what do the white ones do?”
He smiled. “By themselves, nothing. Just like the other berries will do nothing without a white one.”
“I see! A white berry makes a colored one work.”
“That’s right. Always remember to eat them together. And watch the time, especially when flying.”
I closed the bag. These were handy. I did not know what I was going to do now, but, at any rate, they were worth keeping.
“Tell your queen that I am grateful.”
“I will. She also said that you are welcome to pick more saveberries in the valley, too, if you want.”
The Swirg bowed and left.
We continued on our way. I guess my less than happy mood showed, for Cassandra kept glancing at me with that same concerned expression.
“Perhaps there is another way to find the information you hoped to get through the emerald apple,” she ventured.
I shook my head.
“No. And it’s not just that.”
We had time to spare, so I told her everything—about Jarvi, his sword, and the three deeds. I even mentioned the Lakeland Knight thing, which she took amazingly well, only raising a brow.
“So, you see, not only have I not gotten any closer to cleansing the sword, I have spoiled it even worse.”
“But you have fixed things. You have returned it all back to the way it was, as if nothing had ever happened.”
“As if, these are the key words. It did happen. I don’t know whether one can just undo something like that. I was able to fix the consequences, yes. But does it mean that the act itself didn’t count? Or do I now have to do six valiant deeds, not three? That is, if the whole thing works.”
She had no answer to that, and I wasn’t expecting one. We reached the rats’ cave; this time, they paid no attention to us. We walked through without any trouble.
“You could have used the wish to bring your sparkling friend back to life,” Cassandra said.
“You think it had not crossed my mind? It had, trust me. But he’d never approve, not at such cost.” I kicked a small rock that happened to be on my way. “Just wait, Triar. You just wait.”
“It’s not like him to do something like this.”
“Like or unlike, I’m going to pull his beard out. One hair after another.”
Cassandra stopped in her tracks.
“Beard? Triar has no beard.”
I halted as well. “What are you saying? He must have grown one. How long has it been since you last saw the old crook?”
“Triar’s not old! I don’t know whether it’s true or not, but he is said to know the secret of eternal youth, so…”
She didn’t finish, and she did not have to. We ran out of the cave, quickly untied our horses and rushed back to the hermit’s house.
The door was unlocked this time. I burst in and grabbed the impostor by the back of his shirt collar.
“Who are you?! And where is the real Triar?!”
He blinked, shrinking in fear.
“Wha… How dare you…I am Triar!”
“Are you, really?” I snatched the sword. “Shall we verify that?”
I wanted to use the trick I’d just learned from the queen of the Swirgs, but my attention was distracted. Instead of the barely noticeable dim glow, the blade now flickered with orange sparkles. It was still far from the bright shining it used to have, but it was a definite improvement.
Does this mean that…
“Ragnar, help!” the impostor cried out.
“Ragnar? So that’s who’s behind it!” I looked around. “Where is he? Let him show his face, unless he’s too scared!”
The gormack immediately appeared. He stood in front of me with arms crossed, glowing in dark blue, glaring at me with narrowed eyes.
“All right, Arkus, you won the first round. Don’t get too happy though, I’m not done with you. And be careful what you say, your protection will not last forever.”
“Where is the hermit? What have you done with him?”
He smirked. “I am not obligated to answer your questions, am I?”
The door opened and Cassandra ran in, followed by a fair-haired man of about thirty.
“I found Triar, he was locked in the cel…”
She gasped at the sight of the gormack. The real Triar grabbed her hand and pulled her away. He looked frightened, too.
I pushed the impostor to Ragnar.
“Take this puppet of yours and get out.”
The gormack barely controlled his fury.
“Beware, Arkus…”
“Get out if you don’t want to be whacked by a boot again, or by something worse. I think I saw a chamberpot under the bed.”
Ragnar was gone in a flash. The impostor backed away to the door and took flight. No one pursued him.
“I have seen many things,” said the real Triar, “but this is the first time I witness someone speaking to a gormack like that. Who are you?”
“Hasn’t Cassandra told you about me? I am Lord Arkus of Blackriver Castle.”
“Yes, that’s what she said, but I find it hard to believe. I have heard of Lord Arkus, and from what I know, he is not someone who’d seek valiant deeds to help someone else or give up a treasure like the emerald apple.”
“Let’s just say I am eccentric and unpredictable.”
“Indeed you are.” Triar walked into the living room, gesturing to Cassandra to follow. “Shall we all dine together? We have a lot to discuss, it appears. I’ll need to know more about you and your quest to try to help you with the remaining two deeds.”
I stared at him.
“Did I hear you right? You said the remaining two deeds?”
Triar smiled.
“Don’t you realize you have accomplished the first one?”
***
Chapter 4
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Triar treated us to all kinds of mushroom dishes—soup, pies, fried mushrooms, roasted pheasant with mushroom sauce. The hermit turned out to be a much better host than one might expect, given his reputation. We talked for several hours. Triar wanted to know everything about my dealings with sparklings, gormacks, and especially about the spoiling of the sword. Unlike Cassandra, he was not satisfied with me simply stating that I failed to protect it.
“What exactly took place?” he asked.
“Does it matter?”
“It might. You never know what piece of information will prove to be crucial.”
I sighed. “Very well. The sword was not supposed to change hands, and I gave it to Prince Kellemar.”
Triar’s hand stopped with the spoon half-way to his mouth.
“You gave it to him?”
“Yes. I was forced to. Otherwise, he threatened to kill Prince Philip of Ulkaria.”
The hermit studied me, saying nothing.
“You don’t believe me?” I asked. “This probably does not go along with what you know about Kellemar, but it is true.”
I shared the whole story. Triar and Cassandra listened, forgetting their food.
“It is hard to believe, but I do,” the hermit said. “I’ve heard strange, conflicting accounts about Prince Kellemar, things that I couldn’t explain. Now I am beginning to understand some of it.”
Kellemar wasn’t exactly my favorite subject.
“What else do you want to know, Triar?”
“Tell me about the monster.”
Now I wished I hadn’t asked.
“I don’t see how that’s important. He’s got nothing to do with Jarvi or my quest.”
The hermit shrugged. “Like I said, it’s not idle curiosity on my part, although I do admit I am very curious. I know what the monster is and I know he had been haunting you. Now he’s aft
er Kellemar. People say you set him on the prince, but that is not possible. I’ve been trying to solve this riddle for quite a while.”
I figured I’d better get it over with.
“It was done by a sparkling. Not Jarvi, another one. He fought the monster off and told him that Faradin, king of spirits, would burn him alive if he comes near me again. And since the beast was so intent on chasing someone, the sparkling gave him a new target.”
Triar appeared to be deep in thought.
“I see,” he said after a long pause. “Faradin’s direct interference… That does not happen very often. Do you know where Prince Kellemar is now?”
Was he ever going to get back to business?
“I don’t, and I don’t care.”
He gave a half-smile. “Do I sense some hostility here?”
“Yes, and with good reason!” My patience was wearing thin. “Now Triar, with all due respect, shall we stop wasting time? Let’s try to figure out what the second deed could be.”
The hermit leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“That’s what I’ve been doing, and I think I have it lined up for you.” Having enjoyed my confusion for a moment or two, he went on. “Prince Kellemar happens to be in quite a predicament right now. If you help him out, I believe the Deed of Cool Mind will be taken care of.”
“Is this a joke?”
“No.”
I looked at him. Indeed, he was serious.
“I’m not doing it. I will not help my enemy.”
“You call him your enemy? Excellent. Just what we need.”
“What are you talking about?”
Triar leaned forward. “Don’t you understand what the Deed of Cool Mind is? It means doing something because it’s right, in spite of what your emotions may be. Kellemar is a perfect choice. You dislike him, he probably returns the sentiment. Helping him will not be easy. Do it, and you will prove that your mind is stronger than personal likes or dislikes.”
I gave it some thought. Prince Kellemar of Dalvanna… There was a time when I vowed to kill him. Then, after Ellar’s intervention, he got what he deserved, and I had pretty much dismissed him from my mind. I no longer wished to do him in, but that did not mean I was eager to see him again, let alone help him.
Yet what Triar was saying made sense.
“What has the idiot gotten himself into?”
“The prince’s father, King Ramian, sent him to the Tenebrous Valley.”
I arched a brow. “Since when does he want his son dead?”
“Ah, so you know who lives there. Yes, Pergalacks, a man-eating tribe. Prince Kellemar was carrying something of importance to their ruler, Morgard. I don’t know exactly what, but I do know that Morgard demanded Kellemar to deliver it personally, or he’d ravage southern areas of Dalvanna.”
I knew Morgard through the Villains League, and I couldn’t imagine what he could possibly want from King Ramian. Also, why he would act in such an unusual way? Morgard was a warrior, strong and rather straightforward. If he wanted something, he’d go fight for it. Why threaten to attack Ramian’s lands instead of just attacking them? Why demand that Kellemar come to his domain? I was intrigued.
“Prince Kellemar is dependant on white towers,” the hermit went on. “They are the only thing that can protect him from the monster, as you know. He’s managed to make it all the way to the valley staying close to them, but there are none ahead. The prince hoped to hire men to build more white towers for him as he goes on, but no builders agree to venture into the Tenebrous Valley, no matter how much he offers to pay.”
“So His Highness is stuck.”
“Yes. He fears to go forward and he is too ashamed to go back. Meanwhile, his time is running short. Morgard has given King Ramian three months.” Triar smiled. “Until today, I thought no one would be able to help the prince.”
I saw what he was getting at. “No one but me. I am a walking white tower.”
“Precisely. The monster can’t come near you.”
I spent some more time weighing it. It was no use to ask Triar how certain he was that this would count as the second deed. I remembered the rules; there was no certainty. However, it did look like the opportunity was there.
“This whole thing was a pain to begin with, now it’s turning into a royal pain. Very well, I will escort the prince through the valley and back, to the safety of a white tower.”
I turned to Cassandra, who had not spoken a word during this whole conversation.
“You’ve been unusually quiet.”
“I suspect she does not want to go with you this time,” said Triar.
Cassandra shot an uneasy glance at him, but made no retort.
She’s not going? I was surprised at the intensity of my disappointment. It turned out I’d grown accustomed to having her around, more than I realized. Cassandra’s company was making this stupid quest tolerable… But she certainly had the right to quit whenever she didn’t feel like risking her life anymore.
“Well, if man-eaters are a bit too much for you, I understand.”
She shook her head. “It’s not man-eaters that bother me. It’s Prince Kellemar. We’ve met, and not under the best circumstances.”
“Oh? Tell me.”
“There’s not much to tell. I borrowed half a dozen horses from his stable, and he didn’t like it.”
“You made it into the royal stable? And managed to get out with six horses?” I chuckled. “Quite an accomplishment! Well, if that’s the only problem, I wouldn’t worry. Kellemar’s got other things on his mind. He probably won’t even remember you.”
“Oh, he will. He took it rather personally. Vowed to hang me with his own hands.”
“I won’t let him touch you.”
Cassandra seemed pleased to hear that, but she still wasn’t convinced.
“You’re going to have enough trouble with him as it is. My presence would make things even more complicated. I guess I shouldn’t go…” She paused, thinking. “Unless I come up with a good disguise?”
“Hey, that’s an idea. We can dress you up as a fellow—say, a servant of mine.”
She loved it. “Yes! I can cut my hair short… get some kind of a hat… Triar, do you have unused clothes I can look through?”
The hermit looked like he didn’t approve.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Of course I am! Would I miss so much fun? The valley, the monster, and getting to see how Lord Arkus will handle that haughty prince!”
“And if he still recognizes you?”
“He won’t, if you help me with the disguise. So what about the clothes? Have you got anything suitable?”
“I might. But I’d like to have a word with you first. In private.”
I did not know what secret discussion Triar wanted to have with Cassandra, but I was more than happy to leave them to it. Today’s adventure was taking its toll; I needed some rest. So, having finished my cup of bilberry tea, I went outside, took care of Onyx and retired for the night.
***
In the morning I was greeted by a swarthy young fellow with whitish, sun-bleached hair, dressed not without elegance in a beige jerkin, brown knee breeches, and tall boots. Overgrown bangs were almost reaching his eyes; a scar on the chin indicated having more life experience than his youthful appearance might lead one to think.
“Good morning, my lord! Breakfast is served, your horse is fed, watered, and brushed.”
It took me a moment to realize who I was looking at. She was unrecognizable.
“Wow! Cassandra?!”
She smiled. “Not exactly a good name for a manservant. How about Archibald? After our four-armed friend.”
“Very well, Archie it is.” I looked her over once more. “Amazing! What did you dye your hair with?”
“Whitegrass decoction. The best thing.”
“And the scar? How did you do that?”
“Some tree sap Triar gave me. If you leave it on the skin, it
sticks to it and dries into a scar-like tissue.”
“How long will it last?”
“About a week. Then I’ll have to reapply it.”
“Hmm… Sounds like a nuisance, if you ask me. But it’s a smart idea. It draws attention, making one wonder about the scar rather than focus on your face.”
“That’s what I hoped it would do. I’ve also got some stuff that makes bruises, very real looking. I can make myself a black eye, and tell everyone what a cruel master you are.”
She positively knew how to brighten my mood.
“It’s very nice of you, but I’m afraid it would be a bit too much.” I was getting hungry. “Were you just practicing your lines talking about breakfast or did you actually cook one?”
“I sure did!”
Cassandra stepped to the table and removed a towel that was covering a frying pan with an omelet, keeping it warm.
“It’s a little on the burnt side, cooking isn’t my specialty. But it’s edible. I’ve just had some myself.”
I sat down to eat. She wasn’t being overly modest, the omelet was burned. I picked out several pieces of egg shell, too. My new attendant saw it, but wasn’t one bit embarrassed.
“Since I am now officially in your service, shall we discuss the pay?”
“Now I know that it is indeed you. I wondered why you haven’t billed me for a while.”
“Well, that gemstone I picked in the caves is worth a lot, so I’m happy.”
“Perhaps it covers my debt to you?”
She grinned. “Nice try. The gem has nothing to do with your debt. You still owe me fifty coins.”
“Darn.”
“So what about my salary?”
I knew she had some exorbitant sum in mind, and I’d probably end up paying it, but I had to bargain, at least for appearances sake.
“Half a golden coin per week. Does that sound fair?”
“No, it doesn’t! Half a coin for a clever, trustworthy, strong and brave fellow who knows horses and is also skilled with the blade! No, Archie’s worth at least two.”
“Perhaps he would be if he was a good cook, but he isn’t.”