The Legend of Brigaard

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The Legend of Brigaard Page 11

by Horace Armstrong


  ‘The beast slayer,’ he said lovingly. ‘I have killed many with its blade as it is, but If only I could summon its true magic.’

  Suddenly, the sword seemed to hum and vibrate and a shrill faint sound reverberated all around them. The Kings eyes widened, and Ceriuz stiffened. A heat radiated that made Ceriuz drawback.

  ‘My lord!’ Ceriuz said, alarmed.

  Suddenly there was a whoosh, and the steel turned into an intense flame of red and yellow. The heat radiated was so much Ceriuz backed away.

  ‘My lord!!’

  The King's face lit up in wonder. The flame seemed not to affect him. Instead, his face was more animated and alive than Ceriuz had ever seen it.

  ‘What in the name of the Goddess Briaazeen!’ Daarrk rushed into the tent with Boday, and both stepped back as the heat seared them.

  ‘Daarrk! I have summoned the flames. At last….I have summoned the flame.’

  He got up shakily and held out the sword. The flames seemed a living thing now - 3 feet in length with licks of fire at the sides. Daarrk and Bodays face glowed in a flash; the flames grew so bright and hot they covered their faces with their arms and drew back. Jaks, who had been close to death, looked like a God - tall, strong and handsome; his features illuminated by the magic flame.

  Suddenly, as quickly as the flame had come alive, it began to die. Slowly but surely, spark gave way to steel blade and in a matter of seconds, the magic was gone. The King howled and collapsed. Ceriuz, who was nearest to him caught him as he fell and was soon joined by Daarrk; together they helped him to his bed. He laughed as he hit the soft bedding.

  ‘Did…did you see that? The beast slayer came alive, in my hands.’

  Daarrk and Ceriuz looked at each other, both awed by what they had witnessed.

  ‘Aye my liege, but now you need some rest,’ said Daarrk hoarsely.

  ‘Yes. Yes, I do. Leave us Daarrk. I want to talk to Ceriuz alone.’

  ‘But sire…’

  ‘Leave us!’ Daarrk’s face darkened, and he stood up stiffly and left with Boday.

  ‘Now that he is gone,’ Jaks said, beads of sweat forming on his head, ‘I have something vitally important to ask you.’

  ‘Your wish is my command my King.’

  ‘The beast slayer…I want it bequeathed to my son.’

  Ceriuz gasped. The beast slayer was handed from King to King. If Jaks should die, then it should rightfully go to his brother Daarrk and then perhaps, Jak’s son.

  ‘I know what you are thinking. Hear me out. If I die from these accursed wounds, inflicted on me. Daarrk will be king until my infant son comes of age, but the beast slayer will be handed to my son and then his. This way there can be no doubt who the rightful heir is.'

  Ceriuz mused. As the king’s oldest adviser and most powerful sorcerer in the land, he was responsible for handing over the beast slayer, the sword of the kings of the Pitsmen, to the reigning king. It had never happened before that a king did not possess the sword - however, the kings words were as good as law. His hands were tied.

  ‘I will tell Daarrk of course. He will accept and besides, I don’t intend to die yet, this is but a precaution.'

  ‘Yes, sire.'

  ‘Now, fetch Daarrk and my generals, and wait outside while I talk to him in private.’

  Daarrk was standing outside with Boday and Murchee, all wearing a worried look.

  ‘He wants you,’ Ceriuz told the trio. Thirty minutes later they emerged, Daarrk’s face was chalk white with rage as he stalked off with Boday at his heels.

  Murchee was calmer as he spoke to Ceriuz.

  ‘The King has spoken.’

  Ceriuz nodded. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, breaking the still of the slumbering camp.

  ‘Will he live?’ Murchee asked? Ceriuz held his gaze with rheumy eyes which had seen more than any other human had seen.

  ‘I have yet to see anyone survive wounds so bad.’

  With that he left for his tent, leaving Murchee standing alone in the darkness.

  Ceriuz had only been asleep a couple of minutes when he felt a dark presence. It was the raven. It gazed at Ceriuz from the floor with his coal black eyes; head cocked in that peculiar manner that members of his species were prone to do.

  ‘The corpse stirs,’ Keenion said in his birdy voice.

  ‘What do you want you, accursed creature?'

  ‘Now, now, ancient one, is that a way to treat your best spy, who comes with you bearing gossip so salacious it is like sweet honey to the mouth.'

  Ceriuz roused and sat up. ‘You have news?’

  ‘Aye Wizard, I have news,’ Kenioon said and cawed softly.

  ‘However, you know what I want.’

  ‘I can do no better; you will become a boy in 3 weeks and no more.'

  Keenion swore in a way unfit for the coarsest soldier. ‘If you continue like that I will turn you into a big fat toad.’

  ‘Arrr o wise one, forgive me,’ Kenioon dropped its head. ‘I will ask you no more.’

  Ceriuz nodded. ‘What is the news foul one,’ he barked.

  The boy raven hopped from foot to foot.

  ‘So when you left me, I spent hours in a tree afraid to fly because I did not want to be human up in the sky. Alas, a rumbling belly and avian boredom got the best of me, so I went foraging for food. I flew to the edge of the forest looking for a mole or perhaps a small hare.'

  He paused and peered sheepishly at the wizard. The truth is that he was looking for dead soldiers that had yet been scavenged by other ravens but that he was keeping to himself.

  ‘Then I saw them,' he said.

  ‘Who?' Ceriuz answered intrigued.

  ‘Two Pits soldiers - riding to the edge of the forest. I abandoned my quest for dinner and followed them until they came to the very edge of the forest and then they stopped and alighted from their steads. I hid in-between the branches of the tree and waited. Soon I heard horses; two more horsemen appeared - this time they were Untas.’

  Ceriuz was enthralled.

  ‘The Untas were Kroos, leader of the Untas and another odious individual who I learned later was referred to as Bamman. They greeted the Pitsmen like comrades in arms - do you know who those Pitsmen were?’

  ‘Daarrk and Boday,’ Ceriuz whispered, a veil lifted from his eyes.’

  The Raven’s head jerked up. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Never mind how I know, continue.’

  The boy raven made a half bird half human sound.

  'The first thing Daarrk said, was that Kroos had failed him'.

  ‘The King lives,’ he said. ‘Your man failed to kill him.'

  Ceriuz gasped. He had sensed this right from when the raven boy had told him that the assassin was an Unta, but to get confirmation was like a dagger to his heart. Daarrk had tried to murder his brother to usurp the throne.

  ‘Tell me everything. Leave nothing out.’ So the Raven, who was a competent spy, gave him a detailed account of the bizarre meeting.

  The Unta replied to Daarrk, ‘There would have been no mistake had we been allowed to use an Unta arrow with our bow. As it was our best marksman was barely able to do the job. From what I heard he was struck in the chest?’

  ‘Yes,’ Daarrk replied. ‘But he lives, no thanks to that accursed wizard Ceriuz. We could not have used an Unta arrow can you not see? It had to be Osterlay to make sure I could not be accused of fratricide.’

  ‘So the Wizard treats him? Can you not slip him some poison to finish him off?’

  ‘Nay,’ Daarrk replied. ‘Tis too dangerous now. We must hope that the wound never heals.’

  ‘The wizard.’

  ‘What of him,’ Daarrk said.

  ‘He came to speak to me on the day before the battle. Something about him worries me.’

  ‘He suspects nothing. When Jaks dies, I will be King, and he will answer to me.'

  ‘Okay. Now for my reward.’

&
nbsp; ‘You will get your money.’

  ‘The money is good, but what about the land?’

  ‘That can wait.’

  ‘Nay, future King of the Pits. That cannot wait. My people need it. We are wracked by high winds every year, and our Islands are becoming less habitable. We need land to farm on the mainland.'

  ‘Tis Pitsland even though deserted. My noblemen will not be happy.’

  ‘My Lord,’ Boday spoke for the first time. ‘T’will be a mistake to give the Untas land on our territory.’

  ‘Are you going back on thine word future king of the Pits? Is the Pits King’s word worth nothing?’

  After a pause Daark said. ‘You get your land. But there will be only farmers and citizens on it — no warriors, no men at arms. My soldiers will come to see if you are keeping to your terms from time to time. If you even occupy an inch of Pits territory apart from where I have given you, I will wipe you off the face of the earth.'

  Kroos nodded. With a signal, he and his henchman got on their horses, wheeled them away and rode off.

  ‘Can you trust those little devils?’ Boday asked.

  ‘Of course not, but for now, there is little we can do. The chess game has just begun. He is ambitious that one and he desires my kingdom. What holds him back, for now, is a lack of unity of his people. He will work on that diligently, and when he is ready, he will strike.'

  ‘God Daarrk. I hope you know what you are doing. You have given the devil a foot in the door.’

  Daarrk smiled. ‘He may be a devil, but he is dealing with someone much worse.'

  ‘What about the Prince? Jaks baby? There will be many that insist you are not crowned but rule in waiting for him. There will be many, Murchee for example, that will offer him protection in his squalid castle.’

  ‘That’s where you come in my dear Boday. I will insist the queen and prince be under your care. Murchee won't like it, but he will not be able to do anything about it. Even if the nobility gets their wish and insists I rule in waiting for the whelp, I have 16 years to find a way of getting rid of him and his mother.'

  There was silence as Boday’s face reddened. Daarrk smiled.

  ‘She is a magnificent creature our queen. Comely beyond words, almost like a goddess.’

  ‘I have not noticed,’ Boday said head bowed blushing furiously.

  Daarrk laughed. ‘Of course, you have you scoundrel. We all have. With her husband dead and you in your new position as my most favoured noble, perhaps she will need another man to warm her bed and give her son a sibling. Why not you?'

  ‘T…the thought never crossed my mind sire,’ Boday said.

  Daarrk smirked smugly. ‘Of course not,’ he said, chuckling. ‘Now come, let us get back to camp before we are missed.’

  Chapter 13

  After the Raven had gone, Ceriuz settled on his bedding deep in thought. How could I have missed the signs? How could Daarrk, have planned this so masterfully, right under his nose.

  Zoorv!! It had to be the devilish wizard. He had always known he was troubled when he appeared from the blue 120 years ago. Old, stooping and snivelling with a nose like a vulture’s beak, he had managed to worm himself into the heart of Jak’s father with his sorcery and soon had as much as a sway on him as he had.

  Nobody knew from where he came. Some said he was a Pitsman but others said he came from lands so far away, it would take a journey of many years to reach them. Regardless of where he came from, he was a powerful wizard, whose ability nearly rivalled his. When Ceriuz had left to live with the Untas, Zoorv took the opportunity to worm himself into the castle.

  Daarrk, then a babe, had fallen deathly ill and Zoorv had nursed him back from the brink of death.

  By the time Ceriuz came back, Zoorv had moved into the castle, and the King, Jaks the first, rarely took a step without consulting him.

  Ceriuz, wisely took a back seat. He knew Zoorv was an evil man, but he also knew enough not to press the king. A man as depraved as Zoorv would never be able to hide his real character for long.

  The day came months later. Ceriuz, the King, his guards, his cousin a nobleman called Dregaard, and his 16-year-old daughter were in the throne room. The King was furious and bellowing at the top of his voice.

  ‘The girl was betrothed to me!! Now you tell me she wants to marry another? That she carries his child?’

  Dregaard, a portly balding man trembled as he spoke. ‘I did not know of anything until yesterday. She came to me weeping, saying she is with child and she loves a boy named Callinz.’

  ‘Who is this Callinz? Speak wench or I will have your head.’

  The girl, who had been crying non-stop told her story. One day she had gone to the market alone to get foodstuff, there she had met the most handsome, virile man she had ever seen. Before then, being a maiden of only 16 she had never been interested in men, but this man was different. He was tall and broad with golden curls that reached his shoulders. His eyes sparkled like the sea, and when he spoke, his voice was more golden than the finest minstrels. Though young, he was dressed in the most elegant garments like a nobleman.

  ‘Fair maiden,' he said in his honeyed voice, ‘I sighted you from afar and said to myself, today is the day I have met my wife. May I help you with your basket?'

  That had been the beginning of their romance. After the shopping, the man, who was called Callinz, begged her to come with him. She knew she should resist. She knew that she was not allowed to speak to strange men, but she could sooner resist his charms than a moth being drawn to a flame.

  He led her to the edge of the market where a horse as handsome as its owner waited. They rode off into the woods until they came to a cabin.

  ‘Come with me,' he said.

  They entered the cottage which was handsomely furnished, and he led her into the bedroom. She should have been nervous, she should have run, but the stranger had her enthralled with his dancing eyes and dazzling smile. He led her to the bed, slowly undressed her and took her maidenhood.

  From then on, anytime she went to the market they met, and he took her to the cottage, where they made love over and over again. It was her mother that suspected she was pregnant. She had summoned the father, and together they inveigled her into revealing her secret.

  The father was livid. He had betrothed his daughter to the King several years before for a title, and he could not believe she had defied him. Worse, the girl was under a spell. She insisted that she and Callinz loved each other and they were to be married. The next day they followed her to the market, but Callinz did not appear. They went several times later, but there was no whiff of him. The father and girls brothers convinced her to take her to the lodge. She took them into the woods, and they searched and searched but found no cabin.

  After a while, the father convinced himself the girl was unwell and had imagined it all. However, months after, the tell-tale signs of pregnancy began to show, and he had no choice but to tell the King.

  ‘Find this Callinz,' he screamed at the father. ‘Bring him to me, or I will have your head.' Father, mother and weeping daughter left in misery.

  ‘Let me speak to her,’ Ceriuz said. ‘I will get to the bottom of things.'

  An angry King answered.

  ‘Do what you want. But if I do not have that boy in a week, I will imprison them all.'

  That night Ceriuz had a meeting with the girl’s father at his home.

  ‘Tell her to go to the market tomorrow. I will be with her all the way although she will not see me. Let us see if Callinz will come when she is alone.'

  The father agreed. The next day the girl went to the market as instructed. She filled her basket steadily with foodstuff, pretending nothing was amiss. Just as day was turning into night and she was starting to lose hope she saw him. To her and the crowded market, he was tall, blond and handsome but Ceriuz, who was invincible to the human eyes in the shadows gasped as he beheld a stooped, ugly old man - it was Zoorv!

>   He gazed on in wonder as the stooping Zoorv took her basket from her and led her away from the market, until they reached an ugly, disease riddled donkey. They clambered on, and the donkey slowly took them into the woods. After a while, they arrived at a shelter made of mouldy lumber and reeking with decay.

  Zoorv led her in; both were unaware of the presence that entered with them.

  Zoorv laid her down on the dirt floor and frantically began to disrobe, saliva dribbling down his thin, cracked lips onto his lank grey beard.

  ‘So this is how you use your changeling powers? To bed girls who are barely of age?’

  Zoorv turned quickly, his face an ugly mask.

  ‘Ceriuz!’ he gasped.

  ‘Get up girl,’ Ceriuz said. The girl got up. She gasped as Zoorv’s magic wore out in his distressed and the spell was lifted.

  ‘Noooo!' she cried as she beheld the wizened old sorcerer that had taken her maidenhood.

  Zoorv licked his lips.

  ‘Ceriuz…what do you care if I have a little fun,' he said.

  He backed away; fear etched all over his face. ‘There's no harm done. She is but a slip of a girl.'

  ‘Perhaps you will explain this to the King and the girl’s father?’

  ‘The King?’ He said, feigning shock. He looked at the girl. ‘I didn’t know. Ceriuz…how was I to know she was the king’s? Please believe me.’

  He was grovelling on his knees, looking up at Ceriuz, tears streaming down his old lined face. He grabbed Ceriuz’s thin ankles.

  ‘Please wise one, don't tell them-' before he could finish, Ceriuz slapped him hard, his bony fingers, tearing thin skin and drawing blood. Zoorv fell back with a yelp.

  ‘You…you hurt me,' he said, wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand. There was a mix of incredulity and anger in his voice.

  ‘I should do a lot worse to you, but I will leave that to the king and the father who you have wronged by defiling this girl with your loathsome magic.’

  Zoorv just stared back, the look of hatred on his face was one Ceriuz had never seen in all his years alive.

 

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