The Stolen Herd

by K Madill

  They trod to Luco’s mother’s and Mandamus took note of the purple sky and fresh smell of the river. It was the last time he would walk this peaceful, fragrant stretch for a long time. Even their footsteps sounded melancholic.

  “Luco,” said his mother while wiping her hands on a dish towel as they came into the kitchen. “You don’t want to miss the last family meal you’ll have in a while, do you?” She tousled Luco’s hair.

  “No way. I need to stuff myself full of Johnnycake,” he told her. “Who knows when I’ll get it again.”

  “Alright then,” she said, reaching out to scratch Mandamus on the shoulder. “Your grandmother asked me to tell you that she wants to speak to you before dinner; you go on up and see her now.”

  “Okay.”

  Luco made Mandamus come with him. Mandamus had wanted to go to the cherry star grove for a final graze, but Luco promised him there would be plenty of cherry star based dishes for dinner.

  They reached Proxima’s house and Luco raised his hand to knock, but the door was pulled open by Arkas, who flapped in mid-air and gave them a scowl.

  “Ah, there you are,” Luco said, reaching to rub the bat under his chin. Arkas spat a spark at his hand.

  “Ouch, what was that for?” Luco yelled, beating on his sleeve, which had burst into flames,.

  “Looks like Arkas is going to miss your family too,” said Mandamus as the bat flitted out the front door and went squeaking off.

  Luco glowered after him before stepping into his grandmother’s vast front room.

  “Boys, come have a look at this,” Proxima said excitedly when she caught sight of them. She was peering into her telescope.

  Sheba, the badger, lay curled up on a large, comfy bed in the corner. She stretched and yawned, smiling sluggishly at the pair before lumbering past them and out the door.

  “Hi, Grandma,” Luco called.

  “Hurry!” she shouted.

  Luco rolled his eyes but led Mandamus to the far windows where his grandmother was hopping up and down and pointing at her telescope. “Have a look,” she cried. Luco bent down to gaze through the lens.

  “Can you see it?” asked his grandmother, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “That’s the Chara star!”

  Luco pressed his face harder against the eyepiece. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Give that here!” Proxima snatched the eyepiece back. “Right there,” she murmured, fiddling with a knob on the side of the instrument. She raised her head and motioned for Luco to take her place. “Now look,” she whispered.

  He peered into the lens. “You mean that bright purple one? The one that’s got that weird halo around it?”

  “That’s the one,” she crowed. “That star is called the Chara star, and it only shines when a prophecy comes to pass.”

  “Yes, well, that all sounds very interesting, Grandma, but I’m starved. I’d like to go to dinner now.”

  “Luco, what is it?” she asked, knitting her eyebrows. “You’re leaving tomorrow, I know, but I get the feeling there is something else bothering you.”

  Luco’s chest swelled with a giant sigh. “There is. I didn’t want to tell Mom because, well, you know how she worries about everything, especially me.”

  Proxima nodded.

  “Something happened in the outer ring woods yesterday. We were attacked by an imp.”

  “A what?” Proxima dropped the telescope, and it shifted dangerously on its stand.

  “An imp,” he repeated. “But then that Forest Man that Grandfather would mention from time to time showed up out of nowhere and chased it off. You must know him too, don’t you? Do you remember a guy named Gideon?”

  “Of course I do! Gideon Wanderer,” she said with a mixture of relief and affection. “You were lucky,” she shook her finger at Luco. “To see a Forest Man means good fortune. Ole’ Gideon sent that imp packing, I’ll bet.” She laughed. “That’s another one I owe him, now, saving my grandson.” She swung the scope around and popped a cover onto the end.

  “Who is this Gideon guy?” asked Luco.

  Proxima hoisted herself onto a stool at her table and got comfortable. “Well, no one really knows where Forest Men come from, but Gideon has been around as long as I can remember,” she told him. “He was a good friend to your grandfather, and to me. Did he say anything to either of you?”

  Luco snorted. “He said several things, actually. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to the guy - he showed up and saved Mandamus when I was knocked out, but he started getting all preachy on us. He said for us to go to the Azure Caves,” Luco began to smile as if the whole idea was ridiculous, “to meet King Farzad, leader of the Snowbreath tribe, can you believe that?” He gave a half-hearted laugh and watched her face anxiously as if he knew what she was about to say, and he dreaded it.

  “I think he’s only trying to help,” Mandamus interjected, feeling the need to defend Gideon who had not only helped them, but healed their wounds with his powder “What he wants is for Luco and I to be better prepared in case that imp comes back. He said that King Farzad can help us. He thinks Queen Asura has far more dangerous friends than the imp.”

  Proxima’s face twisted into a scowl. “I’m sure he’s right,” she said.

  “You won’t feel so chummy towards Gideon when you get to the caves and meet Farzad and his clan, Mandamus,” said Luco, a note of betrayal in his voice. “He’s about seven feet tall and has hands the size of your head. He’s a monster. He’ll most likely eat us alive.”

  “Not alive,” Proxima told him. “The Snowbreth are quite civilized, you know, they have a vast and elegant cuisine too. And the cooking methods they employ,” she paused with an impressed look. “Technique like you wouldn’t believe. Since when did you become an expert on King Farzad and his tribe?” She frowned at Luco.

  “I’m not,” Luco answered, blushing under her steely gaze. “But I’ve seen the posters in the Silver City, from when they were banned from entering any part of the kingdom that humans occupy, and they sure look like they could eat a man whole.”

  “Well, they wouldn’t get much of a meal out of either of you two scrawny things,” Proxima retorted, “and I am extremely disappointed to hear you speak that way about a group of creatures that you don’t even know.” She pressed her lips then hopped off her bench. “Let’s go to dinner. Geminga wanted to cook tonight, so we’re going to her house, which I am not too keen on. Knowing her, it will be chocolate meatloaf and fish cupcakes.”

  Mandamus grimaced. He sure hoped not.

  “We’re not listening to this Gideon character, anyway,” Luco said, as they followed his grandmother to the front door. “We’re heading straight for the Light Sands.”

  “You most certainly are not,” said Proxima turning on him with a flinty glare that reminded Mandamus of his aunt Daleth. “If Gideon Wanderer tells you do something, you do it. End of story. Now I’m telling you too; you go and see the Snowbreth tribe and you do exactly what they tell you, do you understand me?”

  “I suppose,” Luco muttered, rolling his eyes at Mandamus.

  Mandamus was grateful for Luco’s grandmother right then. He was sure that Luco was wrong about Gideon and the Snowbreth, and he was eager to see what they had in store for him and Luco.

  He gave Luco a comforting nicker as they trailed after Proxima, through the soft twilight to Geminga and Drollo’s farm.

  Tonight, he would drink buckets of Wellcome water, eat piles of oats, and try not to worry about tomorrow.`

 

 

 
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