The Legacy of Skur: Volume One

by L. F. Falconer

  He peered about, cautiously, his voice a terrified whisper. “We cannot talk here. It’s not safe. If he sees us together, I will lose my feet.”

  “Who?” I whisper. “If who sees us?”

  “Meet me at the rock with the hole in it,” he said. “Go now. I’ll come soon.”

  I didn’t want to leave him. But how could I stay? If my presence endangered him, I had to go. Slowly, I forced myself away, leading Storm through the market crowd, my heart beating a cold lament. Once on the main street, I climbed back upon Storm and hurried him out of the village and up the hill beside the river, making my way for the boulder-crowned peak. Storm edged carefully through the rubble until I had to dismount to lead him safely on until we veered off, cresting the rise to descend to the rock where Gwin and I had passed such a pleasant day ten long years ago.

  I sat upon a stone, awaiting Gwin’s arrival, then paced about the rocks, waiting, then peered down the empty hillside, hoping to see him coming, but the hillside was empty. The sun advanced, continuing its steady march across the springtide sky. And still I waited until the sun hung low. Gwin was not going to come. He’d sent me away so that he could run off and hide from me. There could be no other explanation.

  Choking back my angry tears, I knew there was nothing left to do but join Rudne and the others at the bridge, and I cursed myself for being such a gullible noddy.

  I was working my way back toward Storm when I spied Gwin, haplessly struggling over the rocks below.

  “Where have you been?” I cried, running for him. “I didn’t think you were coming.” He was a little cleaner than before and bore fresh bruises upon his face—new even since I saw him earlier.

  “I was detained,” he mumbled.

  “We are alone now, Gwin. You will tell me what happened to you.”

  He shook his head. “Just help me get to the rock with the hole in it.”

  I slipped my arm about his waist, helping him keep his balance as we edged our way over the boulders. His hair and clothes were damp. “You’re wet. Did you fall in the river?”

  His eyes were pained and he nodded in response.

  “You are fortunate it didn’t sweep you away,” I said, wondering how I could ever have been angry with him. I could feel none of that anger now, only concern for his welfare.

  When we reached our destination, he pointed with the stub of his right arm to a rock-filled niche between two boulders. “Clear those stones away, Elva.” He sank wearily to the ground.

  I began tossing the stones aside, emptying the crevice. The tawny pelt of a deer came into sight. I cleared the remainder of the stones away and lifted the deerskin back. A flash of gold sparkled in the late day light.

  My father’s sword! So this is where he’d hidden it. But it was not the same as when I’d given it to him for now the sword was whole.

  “After you began training with Rudne,” Gwin spoke, “I took it to the smith and had it repaired, working it off by carrying buckets of coal for him.”

  He wouldn’t look at me and his voice was tinted with anger. I lifted the sword from its sanctuary and tears dribbled from my eyes.

  “I wanted to surprise you,” he said.

  “Oh, I am surprised. Gwin, thank you.” I gently stroked the blade. “Thank you so much. This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.”

  “It is my responsibility no longer,” he told me, the anger swelling in his voice. “Take it. Take it away and go back to Rudne.”

  I could not understand his anger and I knelt beside him, holding the sword between us. “You have kept it safe for me all these years, and for that I am truly grateful.” He still refused to look at me and I stared at his bowed head in confusion. His sterling soul had been tarnished somehow. He had become too sallow and sad. Was it because his lot in life was now a desperate struggle?

  I laid the sword upon his lap. “The sword means a lot to me, Gwin, but not nearly as much as you do. You take it. The gold it contains can help you. You do not have to beg in the streets anymore.”

  He raised his eyes to meet mine then, their slate-blue hue laced with mist. His voice was subdued. “I could never take it from you, Elva. It was your father’s. You must keep it.” His tone hardened. “Just take it and leave me now.”

  “Is there nothing I can do to help you?” I didn’t want to leave him. His heart was crying and my heart was crying to help. My Telling was revealing something I did not want to hear and I longed to banish the pain from his soul.

  “Why should you care when no one else does? Even my brothers have left me to fend for myself. I cannot work. I have no home. Most people just shun me. Some kick me aside. A few offer coins or food, but nobody cares. Nobody wants to help. Why should you? Go back to the man you love and torment me no more.”

  I lurched back in shock. “And just what man is it you think I love, Gwin?”

  “I may be a useless beggar, but I am not a fool. You know very well who you have promised yourself to.”

  I gasped, clasping at my chest. “Surely you can’t believe … that I love Rudne? What would make you think such a horrid thing?”

  He stared straight into my eyes. “He told me so. He told me that you promised yourself to him and has boasted of how …” his voice quavered, “of how you … pleasure him.”

  “Pleasure him?” I sprang to my feet. “And did he also tell you that he forced himself upon me against my will? Did he tell you how he threatened to drown you in the river if I did not submit to his demands?”

  Gwin was staring at me in shock and I knelt before him once more.

  “He might have gotten pleasure from me, Gwin, but I assure you, I got none from him. I endured his obtrusions to keep you from harm. I could never, ever love him, and I should have let Skile turn him into a toad.” Tears were escaping my eyes yet again. I tried to sniff them back.

  Gwin clenched shut his eyes and hung his head, shaking it slowly. “Forgive me, Elva. I should have known. I should have known it wasn’t true, that it wasn’t within you to love someone like him. And I knew he didn’t love you. Not with the way he consorts with other girls in the village. Even angry as I was, it pained my heart to know he was betraying you while you awaited him on the wold.”

  “The only man I ever awaited was you, Gwin.” I wiped my tears before stroking his cheek. “Why did you stop coming?”

  He peered cautiously about. “I cannot tell you,” he whispered. “I should not even be here with you now. He knows I’m up here.”

  “Who, Gwin? Who are you afraid of?”

  He only shook his head, but in my heart I already knew. I listened to my Telling and gently stroked the fresh bruise upon his cheek. “It is Rudne, isn’t it? It is Rudne who threatens you.”

  Closing his eyes, he nodded.

  I brought my hand down, caressing the remains of his arm, my Telling screaming as a terrible truth began to unveil. My voiced quaked. “He … he took your hand, didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” he groaned.

  “Why?”

  Gwin’s voice trembled as he spoke. “He was jealous. The day I kissed you at the lake. He took me home and followed me into the barn and he beat me. He told me you belonged to him. That you had promised yourself to him, and I was never to touch you again. And to make certain I couldn’t, he grabbed the axe … and …”

  Oh, the horror! It engulfed me like a deluge. I clutched Gwin against my breast, the tears streaming from my eyes. It was my fault! If I had never sworn bondage to Rudne, Gwin would not have lost his hand. I didn’t believe I could hate Rudne more than I already did, but realized, at that moment, that the depths of the pit of hatred were unfathomable. The black fire raged inside me.

  “Forgive me, Gwin,” I cried, taking his face into my hands. “Please, forgive me.” I began brushing the tears from his eyes.

  “He told me he would take my feet as well, if I ever said anything to anyone. Or if I ever saw you again. He knows I am up here, Elva. That is why I was so long in coming, for he cau
ght me at the riverbank and he beat me as a warning to stay away should you show up. He knocked me into the river, and I would have drowned had his companion not pulled me out when he did. He knows I am here. Does he know you are? I cannot lose my feet.”

  “He will not take your feet, Gwin,” I assured him through my tears. “This much I promise you, and I swear, in the name of the king, that he will not go unpunished for this. He will not.”

  “Wae, Elva, when I thought I’d never see you again … when I thought you loved him, I lost all hope.”

  How well I understood that feeling. I had lost hope so long ago I wondered if I’d recognize it if I ever found it again.

  “I thought you’d stopped coming to the wold because you no longer cared for me,” I whispered. “Because you thought me repulsive.”

  He gave a short, sad laugh, his dimpled cheeks puckering for a moment. “I could never find you repulsive, Elva. Even if you look like a boy right now, still you are beautiful. You stole my heart that very first day we spent here together as children. And just like this rock, without you, I have been left empty and hollow.”

  I snuggled beside him, laying my head upon his shoulder, caressing his chest. “My life has been so cold without you, Gwin.”

  He cradled me within the crook of his arm and as I nestled closer, that old, randy ache crept back inside me. I stared up into his eyes that gazed at me in sadness.

  “I love you, Gwin,” I murmured. “And when I return from Fead, I promise I will take care of you. Forever.”

  “Must you go to Fead? Don’t you know by now that you are already a warrior? That you have always been?”

  “No,” I sighed. “I must go to Fead. It is more than just becoming a warrior. The time has come that I must find the dragonslayer. I must find the dragonslayer and destroy him.”

  I could feel Gwin recoil. “Why?” he gasped. “He’s a hero of the land. Why would you want to destroy him?”

  “He is no hero to me.” I sat up, brushing the hair back away from my ears. “My mother was not human. These ears I got from her. The dragonslayer is my father’s brother, and my father asked him to take care of me and my mother when he died. But the dragonslayer killed my mother because she was not human, and he tried to have me killed, too, and I swore that I would someday avenge myself.”

  “That was a long time ago, Elva. You should let it stay in the past.”

  “I cannot. I must do this to set my heart free.”

  “They will kill you. If you kill him, you will surely be killed. Don’t leave me now. Please.”

  “I do not plan on getting caught, Gwin. I do not plan on dying.”

  He reached out, rubbing his stub against my arm. “Is there no way I can dissuade you? If you die, it will kill me as well.”

  I snuggled back against his chest. “Then I had better be careful. I will return to you. I do not want either of us to die.”

  I stretched up and kissed him then, and I could feel his hesitation, but his closeness incited that old desire inside me. Keeping my lips to his, I slowly eased my hand from his chest, down to his stomach and beyond.

  “No, don’t, Elva,” he mumbled, pulling away from my kiss. “Don’t.”

  “Do you not know desire?”

  “Truly, I know the ache of desire. It burns like an itch I cannot scratch. And the desire I feel for you runs stronger than the river and as endless as the sky above. But it’s not right. I’m a wretch. How could you possibly want me as I am now?”

  “How could I not want you?” I stroked his chest, his pounding heart pulsing beneath my palms. “I have never wanted another, and nothing could be more right. Please. Do not deny us this night. Make this warrior maiden complete.”

  I kissed him again, slipping the straps of his trousers off his shoulders and he trembled. “Take me, Gwin,” I whispered against his ear. “Take me for a magic moonlight ride.”

  “I have never … how can I … oh, Elva,” he groaned in despair. “I cannot even touch you.”

  “You have already touched me,” I murmured, slipping my jerkin off. “With your heart.”

  The turmoil and longing spoke within his eyes as I removed my shirt and the band about my breasts, baring myself in the golden light of the setting sun. Taking his head within my hands, I cradled it against my breast. “You do not need hands to feel,” I said. “You do not need hands to be a man.”

  “Oh, my sweet Elva,” he moaned in surrender, kissing my breast, and beneath the watchful eye of the full moon rising, Gwin and I joined in a gentle ecstasy as sweet and enchanting as a song. I knew that this was truly the union of love Skile had spoken of, and I knew, too, that if Gwin’s seed took root, the child would be cherished.

  We filled every moment of the night with discovery, passion, and promises, and had it not been for the enslaving rage that breathed fire inside me, I would have chosen to remain with him forever.

  8

  The Warrior

  In the smoky light of dawn, I hastened down the riverbank to see the band of warriors-to-be already departing. Gwin had begged me not to go, but this I had to do. Something deep within compelled me and I could not deny it. Urging Storm to a gallop, I caught up with the men in the center of Lorane.

  “Where were you last night?” Rudne demanded, bringing his horse alongside mine.

  My hatred for this heartless cur screamed to be released. “Far away from you,” I said in a low growl before turning my attention to the road ahead, keeping control of myself. I had not slept at all and I refused to allow Rudne to encroach upon my blissful fatigue.

  “I almost thought you’d get girlish on me and fail to come. Your disguise is fairly convincing, except some of your whiskers are crooked.”

  I reached up, attempting to straighten the hairs upon my face. I’d put them on in such a hurry, having lingered with Gwin as long as possible.

  Rudne’s eyes perked in bewilderment as he pointed at my sword. “Where did that come from?”

  “It was my father’s,” I stated. I had insisted Gwin keep the one Rudne had given me, in hopes he could sell it. It was worth a fair price that might help him get by until I could return. How I hated having to leave him right now. A part of me wished to turn right around and ride back to him. If I was able to return from Fead, I would never, ever, leave him again.

  “Those are wizard symbols upon it,” Rudne said. “Is it magical?”

  “Of course it is,” I snarled. How I longed to reach out and strangle him—to watch him gasp for breath and plead for mercy as his eyes bulged out of his horrid, purpling face. I longed to draw my sword and lop off his hands and feet and see how he fared then! But I could do nothing. I still needed him. We were still several hours from Fead and I was not yet a warrior, and the agony of having to hold myself in check was nearly unbearable.

  Besides myself and Rudne, there were four other young men in the group, all brawny and strong and I felt quite out of place among them, small as I was. Two of these men already sported full facial hair and one of them caught my eye as being quite handsome. Our procession was led by a captain, his rank signified by the bronze brassards around his upper arms. I assumed he was Rudne’s uncle; they both shared the same bronze-colored hair.

  The handsome, bearded one spoke quietly to his companion, then they both looked back at me and laughed. “Why don’t you go back home, little boy?” the handsome one said. “They don’t accept babies in the Service.”

  “I may be small, brother,” I snarled in my best boy-voice. “But I could take on any one of you in battle and win.”

  They all roared with laughter except Rudne and his uncle.

  “Heed his words, Dewal,” Rudne spoke in my defense. “I have been overpowered by him, and I have no doubt you could be, too.”

  I sneered at Rudne in blatant contempt. It didn’t matter if he defended me or not, my hatred of him would not diminish. Pond scum had more esteem than he did.

  “It doesn’t surprise me that this sweetpea overpowered you
, Rudne,” Dewal laughed. “Even that lank-sleeved beggar might’ve beaten you if you hadn’t pushed him into the river.”

  “Stow it, Dewal,” Rudne retorted. “He would not have beaten me.”

  “He was pretty skilled with those feet and that head,” Dewal chuckled. “He managed to bloody you up prime.”

  “He got lucky and my heart wasn’t in it,” Rudne stated, his face flushed. He nudged his horse forward to ride beside his uncle, ignoring the remarks of his companions, and I turned my attention resolutely to the road ahead, ignoring them all. Let them mock and jest. I wanted only to reach our destination, but it did my heart good to know Gwin had put up a fight.

  It was nearing midday when Fead came into view. The city was a huge, sprawling conglomeration of buildings upon the plain near the conjunction of the North River and the River West. The roads were filled with drays, barrow boys, men on horseback, folks on foot, and the dust flew, hanging in the air like a thick gray cloud. The hubbub brought to mind one gigantic marketplace, and I was amazed that so many people could live together in one place. It was no wonder that so few of them could ever hear the words of the world around them, the din and disarray entirely distracting.

  Standing in solitary majesty, King Tilla’s palace loomed in the distance, flanked by the two wide rivers before they converged to flow south. My palms began to sweat. My teeth were clenched. The end was near. What had only been a dream for so many years would soon become a reality, for somewhere within those gray castle walls were the dragonslayer and his family. We would soon meet again. We would meet again, and some of us would die.

  The castle stood larger than anything I had ever imagined. Our horses clip-clopped through the outer gate and my eyes were drawn in all directions. The dusty main entry of the bailey was a circus of folk: warriors, hawkers, merchants, pages, courtiers, and squires. There was a large well in the center of the court and off to my left I spied the platform of the gallows. A minstrel stood before it, singing a desolate tune. Before him raced two boys with long staffs attempting to herd several swine, and the wayward pigs overturned a barrow of apples being wheeled by a wizened old tiller and he began cursing the boys, drowning out the song of the minstrel, while the hawkers shouted the fairness of their goods and merchants quibbled over prices and peasants scurried to and fro.