by Dave Skinner
Bray was most startled because the person’s approach had gone undetected. He was even more startled when someone appeared at the mouth of the gully and walked towards them. She, most definitely a she, was one of the little people, probably a Far Darrig in his opinion.
Dressed predominately in red, with flashes of green showing here and there, her height was that of an older child, and judging from the way his body was reacting to her, she had some Siren blood in her ancestry.
“I wish to talk with you, Adel, but I judge that you want to free your friend first. May I help?”
Adel seemed to shrink away from the little woman as she approached, but then she steeled herself, stood straighter, and answered. “You must not get your beautiful clothes dirty. I can finish digging this out.”
A laugh like the tinkle of bells escaped from the woman’s smile. “Oh, how sweet. I was told you were a darling, and now I see for myself, but not to worry, I will not be digging.” With that she made a sweeping hand motion. The log dissolved into smoke that floated away on the breeze.
“Now, come, my dear, let us find the sun again and have a talk,” she announced as she took Adel’s hand to lead her away.
“But my friend is still stuck.”
“I am sure your friend can free himself now. He looks competent, and we should talk privately. What I have to tell you is for Adel ears only. It would be…” Her voice faded away as they both disappeared up the gully and over the rim.
She was right. With the log gone, Bray could muscle the cage backwards enough to climb up over the roof and escape. When he reached level ground, he saw Adel and the Far Darrig engaged in conversation a little way off. Instead of joining them, Bray studied the story being told by the tracks around the cave. He had never had a problem with Little People, but he understood they were unpredictable. Leave well enough alone advised the wisdom of the Tawshe. He wondered about the aversion that Adel seemed to have to them. What use was a talent when it terrified you?
After studying the ground, he concluded that a large group of men had left the area on foot, along with one cart drawn by a donkey or pony. Not all had left. He found the dead body of a one-armed man a short way into the trees. He also found where a large man had stood with a smaller body sprawled on the ground in front of him. The smaller body had not been moving, but it had been lifted and taken to the cart. Tracing the route they had followed took him to where Adel and the woman were seated. She looked up at him as he approached.
“Well, warrior, do you know what happened here?”
“I believe so. Men on foot with one cart have passed on in this direction. I believe they have Grandmother Adel in the cart. It is unknown if she is injured or simply incapacitated somehow. What information can you add, Lady?” The Far Darrig seemed taken aback by his question, but she recovered.
“You accept my presence with little difficulty. Are you familiar with my people?”
“Far Darrig, no, but we have Hobs where I grew up. I have a small familiarity with them and their ways, although none were as striking as you, My Lady.”
Bray had not planned to say the last part, but he found it almost impossible to control himself in her presence. Despite the fact that he could hardly look away from her, he noticed the look of anger that flashed across Adel’s face.
“And where is the place you grew up?” she inquired.
“I was raised by the Tawshe.”
“But you were not born Tawshe, is that what you are saying?”
“Yes. I was born in Nadia.”
Her eyebrows rose at his admission. “Nadia! Then you are Bray of Nadia, the son of Prince Argon. The Hobs speak highly of you. My name is Amadella, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Do you know the Nadians are searching for you?”
“I have learned as much, but you bypass my question. Is there information you can tell us?”
“I have already told Adel about what I have seen. She can tell you as you return to the village. I must leave now,” she said.
“Why would we return to the village?” Bray asked.
“The village is where this Adel belongs, and your help is not required. My people will take care of the men.”
“No,” Bray stated flatly. “A bargain was struck with the villagers to return the old woman to them if possible. I agree that Adel should go, but she does not wish to return.”
“She is too valuable to endanger, but she must be accompanied through the cave. I have told you that my people will resolve this problem. Your help would be redundant. Take Adel back to the village.”
The last was accompanied by a compulsion to comply. Bray had to use all his will to stand his ground, and not turn back along the trail. He stood fast, though his mind whimpered for him to comply. The compulsion seemed to push harder and grow colder. It buffeted his face and chest. He could feel it seep deeper into his being, corroding his resolve, pushing inward until suddenly it stopped as opposing warmth radiated into his body. It started where he could feel his knife scabbards touching his back. It spread out from there, pushing back against the cold compulsion, radiating warmth, expelling the cold. A new urge to hold his knives surfaced. One hand held his bow, but the other slipped up his back. As his hand closed on a knife handle, the cold disappeared.
“Nadians and their bloody blades,” Amadella huffed. “So be it. You may accompany me until this is finished. Now, we should go. The men are almost a half day ahead.” She bristled off down the path. Adel and Bray followed. Bray kept an eye on the tracks of the men ahead of them.
“What did Amadella tell you?” Bray asked.
“She told me she had seen the men who took Grandmother. They have her in the back of a cart. She seemed to be unconscious. Amadella wanted to know if I knew what they were after. I told her they had asked questions about Leprechauns and gold when they were in the village.”
“Anything else?”
“She asked all sorts of questions about you. I was unable to tell her much except your name. You have not been forthcoming about yourself.”
“We have not had a lot of time to talk, have we? We can do that when we camp tonight. There are lots of questions I would like to ask Amadella.”
“Why are you so interested in her?” Adel huffed.
“I am interested in everything. A friend once asked me what could be more important or fulfilling in life than the search for knowledge. I am more interested in the Far Darrig than in Amadella herself, but I must admit the compulsive magic she uses on people is interesting,” and the fact that my knives counteract it is even more so, Bray continued to himself.
“What do you mean by compulsive magic?” Adel asked.
“She tried to compel us to return to the village. It was all I could do to refuse her. Did you not feel anything?”
“Nothing. Well, maybe a little itch on my forehead, but nothing like what you are suggesting.”
As they walked, Bray was watching the tracks of those who had gone before them. He read them as two groups. Some of the footsteps had the tracks of the cart’s wheels on top of them while others, the majority, came after the cart. He also noticed that Amadella left no tracks. He could see where she was walking ahead of them on the trail, but when he reached that point there was no evidence of a small footprint. What Adel had said about her gift was also in his thoughts.
“Adel, what exactly is the nature of this gift you share with your grandmother? You said something about finding the little people if I remember?”
“I am not sure what our gift does. Grandmother Adel negotiates with the little people when they come to the village to trade. We trade fish and crafts for their vegetables, grains, and medicines. She has had me sit with her a few times. I sense the little people coming before they arrive at our village. I thought that was the gift. My mother said that Adels have to negotiate for all the villagers, or we would just give our goods away, but… they are magic and they scare me,” she admitted. “I am reluctant to serve as an Adel even though it is to be my t
ask soon.”
“I have always found that if you treat them fairly you have nothing to worry about. I am not familiar with the Far Darrig, but the Hobs that live where I grew up were fair traders. I have also heard that Sirens force men to do their bidding.”
“How do they do that?” Adela asked.
“Sirens appear as beautiful, lustful maidens. Men who see them are drawn to them and end up doing everything they ask. I have heard stories of young men who have died of old age in a very short time while in the service of a Siren. My teachers believed the attraction is a compulsive magic, although in my experience, the right woman, Siren or not, can make a man do anything she wants.”
“You said Amadella tried to compel us to return to the village. Does that mean she is a Siren?”
“I believe no. The Far Darrig may have command of the same magic as Sirens do. That is one question I would like to ask her when and if we camp tonight.”
“What do you want to ask me?” Amadella injected.
Bray had failed to notice that she was no longer ahead of them, or that she had stopped walking and was waiting for them. Her ability to do that made him nervous. How do you protect yourself against someone like that? What if all little people could do the same thing?
“I was wondering if we will have to camp tonight, and if you have any idea where they are taking the old woman or why?” Bray answered.
“You were also wondering about our ability to compel. Is that not correct?”
“Yes it is, but I was going to reserve that question until later.”
“I have been thinking about it, and I believe it all fits together, so I will answer it now,” Amadella told them. “The Far Darrig possess the ability to influence the feeble minded—I include your people, especially males, in the shade of that specific tree, along with other species. It is magic and, as such, is not infallible. Over the centuries we have encountered some women who could not be compelled. They are always named Adel. We are happy to find them because it means we can trade fairly with them. Fair trade with equals is more enjoyable than compulsive gifting. We consider the Adels to be our friends.
“The Adels have also developed an ability to sense our magic. We believe it has come about due to our association with them, but I suppose that is neither here nor there. Suffice it to say these two Adels have both gifts. They can sense our magic, and they are immune to our compulsions. In fact, anyone in direct contact with an Adel is also immune to our compulsion, similar to what contact with your Nadian blades did. I believe that is why Grandmother Adel has been taken by these men. They plan to use her to locate my people, and then force us to give them our treasure. Our normal deception with the gold will not work on one who is in physical contact with an Adel.
“I believe she will lead them to a place she has met with us before. That will be the ring at Garandal; a faery circle is what you call it. If this is true, then we will have to camp tonight. I will know later today. If it is the Garandal ring, we will have to travel faster tomorrow. That will not be an issue for you, Bray, and I will make a potion for Adel to help with her stamina.”
“I do not want a potion,” Adel announced.
“I can respect your wishes, but it means that we will not arrive in time to save the other Adel. You should turn around now and save yourself a trip.”
Amadella did not smile, but Bray could tell she was feeling smug. She probably felt she had manipulated them into following her wish for them to return to the village, but Adel surprised her before Bray could say anything.
“All right, I will accept the potion,” she said.
Chapter 10
Grandmother Adel returned to consciousness. Although she now knew of her surroundings, her mind was still foggy. Unable to think clearly, she was struggling to open her eyes when she heard someone speak.
“Wake up, you old hag,” a voice commanded. She felt herself pulled into a sitting position. She was still trying to open her eyes when a slap across her face startled her.
“Wake up, I said.”
Grandmother opened her eyes. There was a man squatting in front of her. His hand raised as if to strike her again. She pull away, but only managed a slight movement. Her body was not doing what she told it to do. Instead of hitting her again, the man grabbed her chin in a brutal grip. She winced at the pain. She tried to tell him to stop, but realized that there was a mass of something in her mouth.
“Do not try to speak, you old witch. Just sit there and listen.” He released her face. She tried to raise her hands to rub away the pain, but found them bound behind her back. All movements were painful. Her arms felt like pins were pricking her, and her body hurt in too many places to catalogue.
“Nod your head if you understand what I am saying,” the man continued. Adel nodded as best she could. “Good. Behave yourself, or I will hit you again. Understand?”
Adel nodded again. Behind the man she could see others setting up a campsite. As her senses cleared, she could smell food being prepared and wood smoke.
“I have food for you. You will eat it. We do not want you dying before your time although judging from your looks you are well past your time. Tomorrow morning we will visit a faery ring, and you will help us find the hidden gold. I will keep hold of you at all times, so do not attempt any of your witch magic on me. One false move and I will split your gut. Now, I will pull the gag from your mouth. If you try to speak I will cut you like this, only worse.”
Adel felt a searing pain down the side of her face. She tried to scream, but the gag prevented sound from escaping. She could only choke on her anguish. When it had passed, she felt a rough hand on her chin, as the gag was pulled from her mouth. Then a bowl was held to her lips, and a warm liquid was forced upon her. She swallowed dutifully as each mouthful arrived. Two meager sips of water followed the food before the gag was forced back into her mouth. The man left. Adel tried to think, but she felt clarity slipping away. More drugs, was the only thought she managed.
***
Wolf Blackheart motioned for Kent, his second in command, to follow him away. Kent cleaned the old woman’s blood from his knife and slipped it into its sheath. He hoped that Wolf would explain in more detail what would happen tomorrow, but he knew better than to ask. His predecessor had asked too many questions and had died with his tongue cut out. Wolf stopped by the trees that surrounded the campsite. Kent hurried up to him.
“Tomorrow morning I want you to select three men. The four of you are to hide by the campsite and wait to see if anyone is following us. You know what to do if they are.”
Kent smiled, showing his rotten teeth. “Kill them.”
“Wait until the sun is directly overhead. If no one has shown up by then, quick march along our trail and join us at the ring.”
“One thing though, Boss. If you start before we arrive, could you save one for me? I have a hankering to kill me a Leprechaun.”
“I will see what I can do. Now, how about some food?”
With that, the two men moved to the fire. Neither took notice of the small, red breasted, songbird perched on the branch above their heads. With a jump the bird left its perch and flitted off through the branches.
Chapter 11
Amadella kept the party moving until it was almost too dim for Bray and Adel to see, although the gathering darkness did not seem to bother the Far Darrig. In twilight she led them to a small clearing beside a stream. She told Adel and Bray to gather firewood. When they returned, she had fashioned three bowls from bark, filled them with water, herbs, and was adding vegetables as she cut them. Bray built a fire, and when it had burned down to coals, added the bowls to it. While the dinner cooked, Amadella fashioned another bowl. “For Adel’s potion,” she informed them.
Bray cut branches from a cedar tree and lay them out for his bed. Adel came to him.
“Bray, I forgot to pack a blanket. Do you have a spare?” she asked. The night was already cool from a breeze off the water, and she was shivering.
&n
bsp; “I only have one blanket, but I will share it with you if you like. Until then you should wear it around you for warmth.” She agreed readily.
Bray cut more cedar branches, and then he wondered where Amadella would sleep. When he asked her she smiled. “Your bed looks comfortable, Bray. We should share it.” Bray cut more branches.
The vegetable stew was tasty. Bray had some hard bread in his pack. Adel had some soft bread in her small bundle. They ate hers. It was fresher, probably part of the loaf she had shared with him that morning. His hard bread would last longer.
Adel made a face when she drank the potion prepared for her, but then admitted it had not tasted as awful as she had let on. She yawned, her eyes drooped, and she was asleep within moments.
“The mixture also causes sleep,” Amadella admitted. “When a potion is used, it is better that the person sleeps apart. I noticed a nice soft bed of moss over behind that boulder. Why not place her on it and leave her your blanket? I have another we can share. She will not wake until the morning.”
Bray’s heart was racing as he carried Adel to the bed of moss. Over the last few minutes Amadella’s siren appeal had been blazing. Bray held onto a vague notion that he could resist her. He would keep a hand on his knives. They would beat her siren magic, he told himself.
He returned to their bed to find Amadella pulling two small folded bundles from a coat pocket. With a snap of her wrists the bundles became blankets that settled on the bed. “My blankets will keep us warm,” she said as she removed her clothes. Bray followed her example. He laid his knife scabbard close to his side of the bed and disrobed while trying to hide the effect Amadella’s magic was having on his body. He slipped between the blankets. Amadella was already there waiting. She ran a hand across his chest and down across his abdomen. Bray forgot his knives, but he remembered what happened next for many years after.
***
Adel awoke slowly. She had slept without dreams; in fact she could remember almost nothing after drinking the potion. She must have been more exhausted than she had thought. Hopefully, the potion would help her with that problem tonight. She had been looking forward to snuggling into bed with Bray. She admitted to herself that she was smitten with him. He was handsome, kind, and strong, but she admonished herself, why would he be interested in an underdeveloped girl like her? That thought brought the realization she was alone and wrapped up in Bray’s blanket. She opened her eyes to find she was not in the bed he had prepared. She sat up.