The Legacy of Skur: Volume One

by L. F. Falconer

  “Then you must begin to sing for others.”

  “No one would want to hear me. No one even wants to know I’m around.”

  “You must try. Sing to your father. Or your mother.”

  He looked at me in shock. “Oh, I could never sing to my mother, Elva. She doesn’t allow singing. She says it’s a waste of time.”

  What an unhappy woman she must be. It was part of her curse. But her curse was making Gwin unhappy too, and it made me boil inside. I liked him, even if he was odd. “You must sing, Gwin,” I stated. “Even if your mother doesn’t like it. If it makes you as happy as it made me, then you must sing. Will you teach the song to me? Please?”

  A smile once again lit up his face. “Of course.”

  We sang and romped and played upon the rocks for hours. Gwin had stashed some biscuits, cheese, and apricots into a pouch beneath his shirt and we ate inside the hole in the rock, pretending we were attending a grand feast at the palace, where he was the king and I was the queen.

  We played catch-me-catch-me-not, and tossed pebbles, and tickled one another until tears rolled down our cheeks. At one point, I nearly stepped upon a coiled gray snake and had shrieked in surprise. Gwin gently picked the horrid thing up, carrying it far away from me before setting it free.

  When the shadows began to lengthen, we finally headed back for Gwin’s home.

  “It was fun wandering today,” I said as we came back into the barn. “We should go again tomorrow.”

  The barn was still devoid of animal life—the two deer now skinned, dressed, and quartered, which was more tolerable to me. At least they only looked like food now.

  When I stepped into my stall, I froze. Straw was strewn everywhere, my blanket and cape flung carelessly in a heap.

  “She has taken it,” I cried, rushing into the stall, searching through the straw. “She has taken my sword.”

  Gwin hurried over, staring in placid surprise. “What are you going to do?”

  I clutched his arm, staring into his eyes. “Take me to her. I must get it back.”

  “She doesn’t want you in the house, Elva.”

  “But she has taken my sword, Gwin. I don’t plan on moving in. I just want my father’s sword back. Please. Take me to her, or I will go without you.”

  “It does belong to you.” Taking my hand, he led me out of the barn and escorted me into the house.

  His mother was at the table. Before her, gleaming from a high polishing, was my sword hilt. Hilde’s eyes glistened and her face was pursed with joy until she caught sight of me, then she started to rise and her eyes narrowed.

  “Get back to the barn, child,” she squawked. “You’re not welcome in my house.”

  “I will not leave until you return what you have stolen, thief.”

  “I am not a thief. You owe me this for taking you in.”

  “I did not ask to be taken in. And I don’t think that living in the barn like an animal is worth that!” I pointed at the sword, feeling a hot anger surge through me. The hilt began to slide.

  I stepped toward the table. Hilde reached for the sliding hilt. I came to a dead stop. The anger raged inside like a maelstrom and I could feel it suddenly gush out. I could feel it rush toward her like long, invisible arms.

  “Leave it be!” I shouted.

  The woman’s hands froze in midair. Her face contorted and her trembling hands hovered just above the moving hilt.

  I kept thrusting my anger at her as I ran toward the table. The hilt flew into my hands. Keeping my gaze locked upon hers, I could see the terror in her eyes, and when I turned and raced for the door clutching the broken sword, behind me I heard her gasp as her hands smacked down hard against the tabletop.

  “Monster,” she wheezed. “Keep your devilry to yourself and begone!”

  I glanced back at her. She was gray, shaking all over, eyes wild.

  What had just happened? What had I done? I was just angry. I just wanted my sword and wanted her to keep her hands off it. And they had both obeyed my wish.

  Oh, it frightened me. Was I a monster? Is that why Papa wanted me dead? Suddenly, I was very weak and tired and scared and I raced for the barn. Reaching my stall, I cowered against the wall, trembling in tears. I was nothing but a monster, too ugly to bear.

  It was after dark when my night eyes saw Gwin come creeping in through the barn door.

  “Elva?” he whispered.

  “I’m here,” I answered.

  I could see him feeling his way through the dark and I wished I could light his way. I rose and took his hand, leading him back to my stall.

  “Mother wouldn’t allow me to bring you any supper,” he said as he reached beneath his shirt and withdrew the pouch he kept there. “But I brought you something, anyway. Father asked me to take care of you, and I will.”

  “Thank you.” Gratefully, I accepted the pouch and sat back down against the wall.

  “What did you do to my mother?” he asked, sitting beside me. “I have never seen her so afraid.”

  “I don’t know, Gwin.” Which was the truth. “I just wanted her to keep her hands off my sword. That’s all.”

  “She says you cast a spell upon her.”

  “Maybe I did. I just don’t know how I did it.”

  “She’s going to send you away.”

  “Where will she send me?” I began to panic. As much as I detested her, I did not want to be sent away. Not again.

  “She plans on sending for the chief warden in the morning and beg him to dispose of you. She claims you are dangerous.”

  Oh no! Not a chief warden. He will kill me for sure.

  “I’m frightened, Gwin.” I grabbed his hand. “I’m afraid of the chief warden.”

  “I don’t think he’ll hurt you, Elva.”

  “Oh, Gwin, yes he will. He will because I have a terrible secret, and if he finds it out, he will kill me. A chief warden tried to kill me before, because of this secret.”

  In the darkness, I could see his face twist in alarm. “What kind of secret?”

  I reached up and touched the knobby stub beneath his empty shirt sleeve and instantly, he recoiled. “Don’t be afraid,” I told him, touching the stub again. “You were born with this. You know what it’s like to be different.”

  “Yes,” he mumbled. “Most people treat me as if I were diseased.”

  I took his hand then and brought it up beneath my hair, resting it upon my ear, whispering, “I was born with these.”

  He felt my ear and his face filled with astonished confusion. When he took his hand away, I brushed my hair back, exposing my ears in the darkness. I didn’t know if he could see them or not.

  “My own uncle tried to kill me because of my ears. Because they make me look like a beast, or a monster. Because they make me too ugly to bear.”

  “You’re not ugly, Elva. And you’re certainly not a beast.”

  “I’m made to live in a barn like one.”

  Gwin leaned forward, felt for my shoulder, and gave me a hug. “I don’t think you’re ugly, Elva.”

  Hugging him back, I began to weep. “No one has ever wanted me, Gwin. I’m just too horrid.”

  “I want you, Elva. You’re my friend. The only friend I’ve ever had.”

  He pulled away then. “My sisters have some caps and they hate wearing them. I’ll bring one to you in the morning. The chief warden won’t see your ears then and he’ll think you’re just an ordinary girl. He’s a fair man. He won’t hurt you.”

  I wasn’t so sure. I had once thought Papa was a fair man, too.

  4

  The Wizard on the Wold

  “Mother’s gone to fetch the chief warden,” Gwin said breathlessly when he came back to me the next morning. He handed me a small gray cap. Except for the color, it was like the ones Mama had always made me wear. The ones Mama had made me wear to cover up my ears, I realized. To hide them away so that she could try to pretend I was a normal child.

  I stared at the cap in my hands, tear
s creeping to my eyes. Why couldn’t she have loved me as much as I had loved her?

  Gwin was staring at me curiously.

  “What is wrong?” I asked, fighting my tears.

  “Can I … can I see them? Your ears?” He seemed hesitant to ask. “In the light?”

  I brushed my hair back behind my ears and he leaned forward, examining them. “They’re not ugly at all,” he finally said. “I kind of like them.”

  “Don’t be silly. They’re beastly and horrid.”

  Gwin shook his head. “No. The only thing that’s horrid is that you’ll be going away and we’ll probably never see each other again.”

  “Don’t ever say never.” I clutched his hand. “No matter where the chief warden takes me, I promise that someday I’ll be back. We will see each other again.”

  “It is easy to say,” he spoke, hanging his head. “But you’ll never come back. You will soon forget all about me.”

  I leaned around and looked him squarely in the eye. His eyes were filled with tears. “I will see you again, Gwin. I promise, from the bottom of my heart. You’re my friend, and I would not lie to you.”

  I bent and picked up the hilt of my father’s sword. “This was my father’s.” I stroked the tiny symbols upon it. “His spirit still lives within it. It is all I have left of him.”

  Gwin reached out and gently petted the hand-shield. “Your father must have been a truly great man to have wielded such a sword.”

  “I don’t know where the chief warden will take me, Gwin. I can’t lose this sword. I just can’t. I’m afraid he’ll take it away from me. Or someone else will, like your mother tried to do. Will you keep it safe for me? Please? Hide it away and don’t let your mother know you have it.”

  His eyes grew wide in wonder. “Elva, it is yours to keep.”

  “It is mine, yes. And to keep it mine, I ask you to care for it for a time. Until I can come back for it. Keep it for me, and know in your heart that because you do, you will see me again.”

  “I would do anything to help you,” he told me, taking the hilt into his hand. “I will hide it away in a safe place until you return for it. I promise it will be safe.”

  I gave him a hug. “I trust you, else I would not leave it with you.”

  I went across the barn and picked up a large stone. Taking off my cape, I wrapped the stone inside it. Then, tying the gray cap snugly over my head, I stood at the barn door, awaiting the arrival of the chief warden as Gwin disappeared with my sword, tucked out of sight within a swath of deerskin.

  I stood in the doorway, softly humming Gwin’s song, clutching the cape-wrapped stone tight against my breast. Hilde came around the corner of the house, followed by a man upon a dappled gray horse.

  He reminded me of Papa, except he was older and not nearly as tall. But he had the same dark hair and beard, wore the same kind of coronet, and had dark eyes that sparkled. He was even dark blue like Papa. Indeed, he reminded me so much of Papa, I felt flustered inside. Could I trust him or not?

  “This is the demon-child who cast a spell upon you?” the man asked, getting down from his horse.

  “Indeed,” Hilde said. “And I wish her destroyed.”

  “Oh, I doubt that we’ll need to destroy her,” the chief warden said. He knelt beside me and pointed at Hilde. “Did you cast a spell upon this woman?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know how to cast spells, sir.”

  “But you are the child of a wizard, yes?”

  “Yes, sir. My father was a wizard.”

  “Where are you from?”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t let him take me back to Papa. “I don’t remember.”

  “Do you wish to remain in the care of this woman?”

  I glared over at Gwin’s mother, curling my lip. “I would rather live with the ogres than to spend one more day in the care of that mean old woman.”

  I could see the chief warden stifle a chuckle, and I liked him then. “Very well,” he said, rising. “There is a wizard on the wold. We will go see him. Perhaps he can advise me on what to do with the orphan of one of his kind.”

  “Wait,” Hilde said. “The child owes me for her care. I will take what she has hidden within her cape as compensation.”

  “How long did you care for her?”

  “Long enough to merit compensation. Also, my husband saved her life. She owes us something.”

  The warden looked back to me. “What do you have in there?” He pointed to the bundle in my arms.

  “It is mine,” I shouted at Hilde.

  “May I see it?” The warden asked.

  Reluctantly, I pulled the cape’s cloth back enough for him to peer inside.

  His eyes widened in amazement and he turned to Hilde. “Are you certain she owes you this?”

  “I believe I am entitled to it.”

  He turned back to me. “I’m afraid she’s probably right. You will have to give it up.”

  Pouting, I thrust my cape into the chief warden’s hands. He removed the stone and the smugness on Hilde’s face vanished as he handed it to her. “I am certain you have been justly compensated, madam.” He swiftly lifted me onto the back of his horse. Mounting behind me, he bid Hilde farewell and headed his horse away, through the streets of Lorane.

  “I don’t even want to know what Cuen’s wife thought she was taking from you,” the warden said with a chuckle. “But I commend you on your wits. What is your name, child?”

  Did I dare tell him? What if he talked to Papa one day and relayed the tale of an orphan named Elva he’d taken away from the unpleasant wife of a hunter? Then Papa would know I was still alive and he’d surely find me and finish what Blugort had failed to do.

  “I don’t remember,” I mumbled. “I was lost for a very long time.”

  “You don’t even remember your name?”

  I shook my head.

  “How old are you?”

  “I am six.”

  “You are very small for a child of six,” he stated. “How is it that you remember your age, but not your name or where you are from?”

  Oh, that confounded man! He was determined to get me to tell him things I didn’t want to say. I kept my mouth shut, refusing to answer.

  “Who are you running from?”

  Still, I refused to speak.

  “You do not need to be afraid of me. If you tell me, perhaps I can help you.”

  Would he truly help me? I thought not. He was one like Papa, and Papa was now a dragonslayer who lived at the palace like a king. No one would believe me. No one would believe that he tried to kill me. No, this man could not help me. No one could help me. I would just have to learn to help myself.

  We crossed a bridge at the river, then rode up a winding path through the lowland forest. When the trees began to thin, before us opened up a vast plain of rolling, grassy hills, dotted here and there with clusters of rounded trees and mounds of big, black boulders.

  Oh, if ever there was a place for a wizard to live, this was surely it. I could almost feel the enchantment in the air. The warden brought his horse to a gallop and I almost screeched in delight, warm memories of Papa wrapping me up. But then, a dark, cold flame chased that warm feeling away as I remembered why I was now here with this strange man in a strange land and for three hours we rode in nothing but silence. We continued across the wold until a small, clear lake came into view. Beside the shore was a sturdy, stone cottage, purplish smoke puffing from the chimneystack. I knew we had reached the wizard’s.

  It was a small house, encircled with a ring of rocks. Upon the door and shutters were painted yellow stars and a number of odd marks burned into the wood, like the ones etched upon my father’s sword. Oh, I did hope Gwin could hide it well. If his mother found it, it would be gone forever.

  “Greetings, wizard,” The chief warden shouted when we reached the house.

  The door stood open, but no movement stirred inside.

  After a moment, the warden called again. “Are you here, w
izard?”

  Still, the house stayed silent.

  The chief warden dismounted, leaving me atop the steed. Drawing his sword, he cautiously stepped through the open door.

  My heart was pounding in excitement. Although I had known a wizard dwelt in Avar, I had never met him. I had seen him but once that I could remember, and that was just a glimpse across the marketplace. The only other wizard I had ever seen was a horrid creature I winced even thinking about. That man who was not a man who had conspired with Papa.

  A few moments later the warden came back out, frowning. “It appears he is not at home.”

  At that moment, I spied a solitary, robed figure emerge from the woods upon the lakeshore. “Is that him?” I pointed.

  Following the direction of my finger, the warden shielded his eyes. “Yes, I believe so.” He lifted me off the horse. “Wait here. I’ll go speak with him.”

  I didn’t want to wait, but dutifully obeyed, impatiently kicking at the dirt with my toes as I watched the chief warden stride toward the rainbow man in the blue, star-spangled robe. They were too far away for me to hear what they were saying when they finally met, but from their motions, I knew they were talking about me. I wondered what this wizard would tell the warden to do with me, hoping he’d not tell him to just kill me.

  They began walking back my way and I quit kicking the dirt, holding quite still. The face of the chief warden looked dismayed and the wizard appeared annoyed, and my heart cried, fearing my life was nearing its end.

  As they reached the house, the wizard laid the bundle of herbs he had in his arms upon the stoop. He then stepped forward, placing his hands upon his hips, looking me up and down.

  “So, you claim your father was a wizard,” he said. His voice was sharp and brittle. He was older than the chief warden, but not as tall. Not short either. He was not fat. He was not thin. He almost reminded me of every person I’d ever known, yet he was unlike any of them. If it weren’t for his star-spangled robe and his long, brown hair and beard, one might not guess he was a man of magic.

  I nodded. “My father was a wizard.”

  “What wizard was he?”

  I motioned for the wizard to come closer. He stooped to my level and I whispered into his ear, “Fane,” not wanting the chief warden to hear.