by R W Foster
“How horrible. There must nae be many of ye humans living in yer world.”
“On the contrary, when I left, the 7 billionth person had been born. Or to simplify a bit, seven times one thousand thousand thousand.”
Keeper Dearbhaile’s jaw dropped. “I can nae picture that large o’ a number.”
“Not many can,” I said. “One billion is a number so large; it would take all your life if you did nothing else to count so high.”
“That be a big number, then,” she said. And then, “Tae change th’ subject, what do ye like tae do for fun?”
“I like to read and solve puzzles. I also like to wander through the forests in National Parks.”
“What be nash-on-ul parks?”
“National Parks are areas of untouched nature where no one is allowed to build so all may enjoy them.”
“Oh,” she said.
She still seemed confused, but I ignored her confusion to ask her another question about herself. “What about you? What do you like to paint?”
“I find landscapes and dragons tae be th’ most soothin’ subjects.”
“You did the blue dragon in the bathroom,” I said, leaving my words vague enough for her to complete the statement if she were the artist.
“Aye. Th’ blue on the plinth with Renline worshippin’ at her feet be mine. Not one o’ me best, but the Vaush-Tauric likes the painting because it be the first I did at her home.”
“You do not like your work?” I said with astonishment. “In my world such would hang in a museum!”
“What be a moo-zee-um?”
I chuckled. “The word is pronounced museum.”
“Moo-zee-um.”
“Say ‘muse.’”
“Muse.”
“Now say, ‘E’.
“E”.
“Now say, ‘um’”.
“Um,” she said.
“Now put the sounds together, ‘Muse-E-Um.”
“Museum.”
“Excellent,” I said, happy.
“Now answer my question, Carter Blake,” she said, peevish.
“A museum is a place where wonderful works of art are displayed so everyone may come and enjoy them,” I answered, still grinning.
“Oh. Now how would me paintin’ end up in this place?”
“Someone would have purchased the picture, donated it to the museum, or someone from the museum would have asked you to donate the art yourself.”
“Would I have tae give it?” she asked.
“No. As the creator of the art work, you can do as you wish.”
“Good,” she said, relief evident in her voice.
“What is your favorite food to eat, Keeper Dearbhaile?”
“I enjoy boar,” she said, slanting her gaze at me. I laughed. “What be yer favorite food tae eat?”
“Steak and potatoes. The steak has to come from cattle, though. How do you prefer your boar prepared?”
“Slow roasted over coals with a pan beneath tae catch th’ drippin’s. At least three times an hour, ye have tae spoon th’ drippin’s over the beastie as it turns.”
“Damn,” I said. “I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”
“Have ye decided what yer goin’ tae do aboot Angriz’ teachin’ methods?”
I grinned. “Patience.”
I rose to my feet using only the muscles in my legs. Then I bent and scooped Keeper Dearbhaile up in my arms and proceeded to carry her back to our fire. She blushed and gave my chest a light hit with her fist. “Ach, ye galoot! Put me on me feet! I can walk!”
“Walking isn’t good for you right now,” I said, continuing to carry her.
“Why are ye doin’ this?”
“Taking care of you?”
“Aye.”
“Because I care about you. You are a good friend.” ‘And maybe one day something more.’ I didn’t have the courage to say this aloud.
“Oh.” She snuggled her head against my chest, and remained quiet for the rest of the short trip.
In a short while, we arrived back at the fire. Angriz sat on a log, turning the boar on a spit. As I walked over, he ladled some of the drippings over the roasting meat. He glanced over at us as I set Keeper Dearbhaile on the log next to him, but didn’t say anything. I walked over to a tree and cut two branches with my sword. They were both near the length of my weapon and that of Angriz. I walked back to the fire, trimming twigs from the branches until both were smooth. I looked at Angriz and waited until he met my gaze, his expression unreadable.
“Keeper Dearbhaile, would you take over the preparations for our meal?” I continued to hold Angriz’ gaze as I spoke to her.
“Aye,” she said and accepted the ladle passed to her.
“Angriz,” I said, “We are friends who have a grievance between us. Am I wrong in guessing that words of apology will not suffice?”
He shook his head. Left, right, back to center.
“Then we are in agreement. We battle until one of us yields to the other.”
He nodded in agreement, still silent. I tossed him his branch, trimmed to a shinai, a wooden training sword.
“Defend yourself!” I bellowed.
We charged each other like a pair of enraged bulls. Knowing he was too large for me to crash head on into, I dove for his legs. He anticipated my maneuver and raised his right leg to stomp on my back. I had hoped he would do something like that and had already begun to twist my body so that I could whack his bent knee. He understood what I was getting ready to do at the last moment and leaped to his left. We both rolled to our feet at the same time and circled, each wary of the other’s next attack.
As I passed Keeper Dearbhaile, I heard her say, “Males!” with exasperation. I turned for a split second, then realized my mistake, and whirled back to face my opponent. Too late. A thud echoed within my right shoulder and a tingling sensation scurried down my arm. The pain announced itself. All this took place in a split second.
I tossed my weapon from my right hand to my left, took a large step to my right and swung backhand. My backhand swing proved to be unexpected because I caught Angriz across the throat. He let out a croak, and slashed at me on a sharp right-left diagonal, cut back across my middle and then chopped down on my left clavicle. The diagonal attack knocked my shinai too far away from my center for me to recover in time. The cut across my middle left a deep scratch and the chop broke my clavicle.
Excruciating agony shot up the side of my head and down my left arm. The kendo stick dropped from my numb fingers. I tried to scream, but the pain had knocked the wind from my lungs. I was aware of something wet running down my chest, but couldn’t spare anything to wonder what. Every fiber of my being was locked on the pain that vibrated out from my busted collarbone and over my body. I became aware of being on the ground when my eyes flew open as I at last managed to pull a breath into my aching lungs. I looked into the early morning sky as I pulled in a deep breath of air, causing fresh waves of pain to radiate through me. A shadow fell over me and the world grew darker. Before I lost consciousness, I recognized Angriz was the one casting his shadow over me.
8
I awoke to a warm tingling running down my arm and along the line of my collarbone. I opened my eyes to the sight of the lovely Keeper Dearbhaile’s face close to my own.
“Wow, you are beautiful,” I said, fuzzy voiced.
“Hush yer mouth,” she said, her voice soft, and face red.
I smiled. “You are pretty when you blush.”
“Thank ye, silly man. Now, hush. I be tryin’ tae heal ye.”
I attempted to raise my head so I could watch what she was doing, but she shoved my head back down. It thudded against the ground.
“Ow,” I said.
“Sorry. Hold still. I almost be done.”
A moment later, the tingling stopped and the warmth at my collarbone faded. She took her hands from my clavicle and made as if to rise. I captured her left hand in my own and placed a kiss on her palm.
�
��Thank you,” I said, my voice husky, as she gasped.
She pulled her hand away, rose to her feet and hurried off. I sat up and stared after her. I noticed Angriz sitting nearby.
“Did I say something wrong?” I asked, bewildered.
He ignored that. “Carter —”
“Looks like you won. Are we on good terms again?”
“That depends on you,” he said. His tone was flat “Do you plan on throwing any more tantrums?”
“Tant—,” I paused to restrain my rising temper. “I think we might need another round,” I said through clenched teeth.
He sighed and rose. With his back to me he said, “Maybe we can talk when you decide to stop acting like a child.”
Heart pounding in my ears, I leaped to my feet and drew my sword. “Defend yourself, Angriz!” I challenged. Before he could answer me, Keeper Dearbhaile charged over and slapped me. “What the hell was that for?” I demanded.
“Why are ye determined to destroy yer friendship?” She yelled. “Ye need tae pull yer head out of yer arse an’ grow up! Yer supposed tae be our leader, nae a bloody liability!”
I froze. “A liability? Is that how you perceive me, Keeper Dearbhaile?”
“At th’ moment? Aye!”
My heart fell. I hadn’t expected this turn of events.
“Alright,” I said. “I will remove myself from your presence, and then I will not be in your way any longer.”
“Dinae be daft, Carter. Th’ spell can nae be ended early.”
“We shall see about that. By the way, Keeper Dearbhaile, my friends do not try to kill me. I trust them with my life.” I turned, picked up and slung my pack over my shoulder, and stalked off towards the nearest of the gems. I found one glowing orange. I reached down to pick the artifact up and felt someone tugging on my shoulder.
“Carter, do nae try! ‘Twill kill ye. I dinae want ye hurt!”
I ignored her words and picked the stone up from the ground. A hollow Thumph hit the air and we got knocked, tumbling, to the ground. ‘What the hell? Why am I looking at the sky? Wait a minute. Where am I?’
A groan came from my right. I looked over to the sound, trying to figure out why my head hurt, but could not. I rose, shaky as a newborn colt, to my feet. I spotted a young woman lying on the ground. I walked over to her. When I recognized the woman as Keeper Dearbhaile, I raced the rest of the way over, splashing through the brook. I went to my knees, sliding the rest of the way to her.
“Keeper Dearbhaile!” I shouted, “Are you alright?”
Her eyes fluttered, and then opened. After a couple of seconds, her eyes focused on me. She shrank away.
“W-who be ye?” she stammered.
Chapter 7
1
“It’s me, Keeper Dearbhaile, Carter,” I said, confused.
“That be an odd name,” she said. “Tell me, Keeper Dearbhaile Carter, where be we?”
“No, no. I’m Carter. You are Keeper Dearbhaile. What’s wrong?”
“Okay, you are Carter. Ye still have nae answered me question: ‘Where be we?’”
“We’re in a forest about a day’s travel north of the Vaush-Tauric’s palace.”
“What be a Vaush-Tauric?”
“A channel of some kind to the draconic gods,” I said, as something dawned on me. “Do you know what happened to us?”
She shook her head. “Nae.”
“What do you remember?”
She thought for a while. “Opening me eyes an’ seein’ ye leanin’ over me, then askin’ ye who ye were.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. “What about before then?” I said a little louder.
She pondered for several minutes more. “Nothin’.”
“Well, this is just flipping wonderful!” I muttered.
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I be sorry, Carter,” she said. “I dinae mean tae upset ye.”
“Whoa,” I said. “You are not at fault at all. I’m sorry I caused you to think that.” I tugged her over and wrapped my arms around her. “We’ll figure something out.”
“How?” she cried.
“You are one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, and I’ve heard, once or twice, that I am kind of smart, too. I’m sure if we put our minds together, and search for a solution, we’ll find one.”
“But, I’m nae even a whole person,” she said, plaintive. “O’ what aid can I be tae ye?”
“Lacking your memory in this case isn’t as bad as you might think.”
She pushed away and looked me in the eyes. “Why?”
“Before you lost your memory, you were upset with me because I was acting like an ass to you. My pride wouldn’t allow me to shut up and listen to your wisdom.”
“Ye would listen tae me now? Why?”
“Now I have something more important than my pettiness in front of me, reason begins to reassert itself.”
“So, what be more important tae ye than yer pride?”
Without thinking, I blurted, “You are.”
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine in a feather light kiss, surprising both of us. She pulled back. “I be sorry, Carter. I do nae what came over me, just then.”
“I-it’s,” I stuttered, my mind scrambled. “D-don’t let it worry y-you.”
“Are ye okay, Carter? Ye are nae speakin’ like ye had been.”
A big goofy grin spread across my face. “I’ve never been kissed before.”
“Oh? Did you like your first?”
“I did,” I said with a wide smile.
She giggled. “Good.”
I rose and reached out to her. She clasped my hand as she got to her feet and we headed off into the brightening day, hand-in-hand.
2
Around mid-day, we came to a swift moving brook. We stopped to drink and refill our water skins.
“Where do we go from here, Carter?”
I pointed across the running water. “That way.”
“What be in this direction?”
“I don’t know. Something is pulling me in that direction.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Tell me something.”
“If possible. Remember, me memory has nae come back yet.”
“This is something recent.”
“Alright. What be yer question?”
“Why are you traveling with me? Not that I don’t want you to, I’m curious as to your reasons. As you say, your memory isn’t back yet.”
“True. However, somethin’ within tells me tae trust ye, so I do.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “Thank you for that trust. Shall we proceed?”
At her nod, I swept her off her feet and carried her across the brook. She giggled and wrapped her arm around the back of my neck. As we reached the other side, and I had my foot on the bank, I detected an unfamiliar, yet not, voice. “Aw, isn’t this cute?”
I glanced over and spotted a petite girl about my age. Her tousled brown curls danced in the breeze. She was slender with short, thick hands which looked as if they hit a lot of things on a frequent basis. Something about the way she stood made me think she knew how to fight with her body. Her weight was balanced on the balls of her feet, knees bent, elbows cocked, and ready to throw blows. Piercing dark brown eyes danced between me and Dearbhaile.
Next to her was an ebony scaled monstrosity which could only be a demon with a pair of forward-growing horns above its eyes and short horns growing upward from its forehead. Evil radiated from the demon’s hate-filled visage. He leered at us, revealing a mouthful of jet teeth. A serpentine tongue slithered out of its mouth. He, too, seemed ready to fight.
As I set Dearbhaile on the ground and moved her behind me, I perceived the unnatural beast wore a sheathed white sword at its side. The demon’s interested crimson eyes watched my movements. I drew my sword, the familiar coldness racing up my arm, across my chest and into my stomach. ‘Interesting development.’ The monster’s eyes brightened and the twisted face grew even more hate-filled if possible
. The demon looked at its side, then back at the blade in my hand.
“Impossible,” he hissed.
“What?” said the girl in a distinct feminine voice.
The demon pointed at me. “Somehow, this elf-lover,” the monster all but spat this last, “has an identical blade to my own.” To me, he snarled, “Where did you get the weapon?”
Before I could answer, the mysterious, yet recognizable, girl interrupted, “Take the sword from his corpse. Who cares where the thing came from?”
While the odd pair was distracted, I whispered to Dearbhaile, “Run and hide. I’ll keep these two occupied.”
“Be careful, Carter,” she said before disappearing.
I refocused my attention on the other two and discovered them watching as Dearbhaile was enveloped by the verdant forest. I raised my sword and pointed the white blade at them.
“I’ll give you one chance to explain why you want to kill us,” I said, my tone icy.
The girl smirked. “Lord Drago’s orders, of course. Where’s Angriz?”
“For fun,” the demon said with a depraved grin.
“Who?” I said. “What?” ‘Talk about confusing.’
“Would you explain?” She said, sweet voiced, to the demon.
He gave a smile to terrify the blind and nodded. “Lord Drago has commanded all elves, their lovers and intimates be killed for their underhanded, depraved slaughter of his family, and in particular, his unborn son.”
I didn’t understand why, but something about this struck me as false. Maybe because the words came from a demon. Maybe because it didn’t sound like something that elves would do. Either way, I called him a liar. The hell spawn drew his white sword and charged.
I slid back in the water of the brook, and held my own snowy blade up in a ready guard position. When he got within reach, he swung his sword at my head. I ducked and kicked his hip. Off balance, the demon crashed face first in the brook sending water splashing up. Feet pounding grass alerted me that the girl was attacking. I rolled to my left and to my feet.
Both were in the brook. The girl was on the demon’s back. They scrambled to their feet and separated; movements more cautious. ‘The demon’s going to attack first.’