Straightaway, Maud told all the old witch had said, skipping over the suspicious spell globe.
When she was done, the kobold king remained silent for a moment.
‘So she wants the wand.’ He jumped from the table. ‘You can go and play; leave the book open where I left off,’ he said to his assistants. ‘And you kobolds-at-arms; you did well in bringing our guests to me. You can return to your post.’ He waited till they had gone, before walking over to a large chest.
‘Open it,’ he said. ‘I cannot quite reach the lid.’
Jurgis glanced at Maud before he, with a thief’s wariness, lifted the lid.
The king put his hands on the rim and hoisted himself up high enough to peer into the chest. ‘The leather case. Take it out, please.’
Jurgis lifted an oblong box from the chest and put it on the floor. Then he sat back on his heels and stared at the black sun symbol etched on its top.
‘That’s a Kell clan mark!’ Maud said in surprise. ‘M’Arrangh.’ She remembered a sealed, dark hall in Tar Kell, bearing this same clan symbol. It was the only unused building in the space-starved hold. The M’Arrangh gatherhouse, they had told her. The renegade clan.
‘It was Kelwarg’s mark,’ the king said. ‘Kelwarg the Black Warlock.’
Maud stiffened. ‘The Black Warlock? You mean a ...’ Her voice hesitated for a moment. ‘A male Kell?’
The king spread his hands. ‘It was long ago, in my late father’s days. Kelwarg of the M’Arrangh was the only Kell to receive warlock training. Later, he traveled. He brought us here, and we served him. I knew him then, as far as you can know a being like Kelwarg. He was as big as you are, Lioness; physically and magically very powerful. His head was bald and his eyes a startling yellow. For many years, he lived in the cave under the well; the one Sari took when she arrived here. He used to summon us whenever he needed hands. Dangerous work that was, for he didn’t care about lives, only his studies.’ The kobold king nodded to Jurgis. ‘Open the case, young man.’
‘I sense danger,’ Jurgis said. He clicked open the glossy lid, and there was the wand, with a pair of supple gloves of some spotted leather.
Maud reached out to the glowing wand, but Jurgis slapped her hand away. ‘Don’t,’ he snapped. ‘Those gloves aren’t there for show.’
She stared at him. ‘You ... What do you mean?’
The king’s eyes rested on the young thief. ‘The young man is right. This wand is an object of power, to be touched with gloves. It was never Sari’s; her magical knowledge is far too limited to wield such a thing.’ He folded his hands over his stomach. ‘Kelwarg made it. The wand was the key to his Tome of Old Ways; a spellbook sealed with mighty magic. One day, Kelwarg disappeared, leaving the tome and the wand behind. He never returned. After a while, and with great trepidation, we brought the case to safety, but the tome was too heavy for us to carry. Alas, for the next time we looked into the cave, it was gone. A lump ...’ For a moment the king seemed discomfited. ‘Your pardon, I meant a human, of course. Someone must have taken the book, but we don’t know who. It will be worthless to the thief, for he can’t open it without the wand. Luckily, I may say, for it contains knowledge best forgotten. Shamanic knowledge from the continent. How to grow the perfect body, pish! We don’t need such things.’ For a moment, he looked disgusted. ‘I wish to be rid of this wand.’ He sighed. ‘I wouldn’t trust many people with it, but Argyr of Winsproke is an honorable man under his foppish exterior. Let us make a deal. I will pay you a hundred giffons if you take the wand to Winsproke and give it to the prince-warlock. I’m sure he, too, will reward you handsomely.’
‘Why not?’ Jurgis said. ‘We could use the money.’ He looked at the king. ‘You don’t think we would hand the wand over to Sari?’
The kobold king gave him a long stare. ‘I trust you. The Lorn Witch is full of rage. Not without reason, mind you, but it does make her unpredictable. With the wand, she can do great harm to the high kingdom. I think you are sensible youngsters and will take it to Winsproke. Besides, Argyr will pay you much more for it than the witch ever could.’
‘How do we get past the wandering spell?’ Jurgis said. ‘It’s stopping us from leaving.’
The kobold king gestured dismissively. ‘With the wand in your possession, the spell will no longer work against you.’
Maud shrugged. ‘Let’s take it, then. I do not intend to help that witch with her creepy smile. We’ll hand it to Argyr.’
‘Thank you,’ the king said, as they shook hands and prepared to leave. ‘You have taken a load off my mind. Do be careful with the wand; it killed my father. He did what the lioness tried to do, pick it up without gloves. It stopped his heart.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m glad to be rid of it.’
‘Nice people, those kobolds,’ Jurgis said, as they walked back to the well. He thought of the pouch inside his backpack. The idea of the one hundred gold pieces the kobold king had paid them gave him a feeling of security he hadn’t known since Isaudor’s death. ‘That means the witch lied to us. Why doesn’t that surprise me?’
Maud didn’t answer. She was thinking of Kelwarg of the M’Arrangh. Pretentious name for a male—Kelwarg, war dog of the Kell. He couldn’t have been physically strong, could he? Not as a warlock. She thought of her people’s history, and the suggestion of a strong male Kell made her uneasy.
Once back at the well, Jurgis stopped. He looked uncommonly grim. ‘Funny, the witch spoke untruths about the kobolds and the wand. What about the rest of her story?’ He took the glass globule from his pocket and stared cold-eyed at it. ‘It paralyzes for an hour, she promised; it won’t do any harm. Now I wonder ...’ With an underhand swing, he lobbed the little ball into the well.
‘What ...’ Maud fell silent at the muffled explosion below. A scream of horror followed, ending in an agonized gurgling. Green smoke billowed from the cave, and Maud clapped her hands to her face. She still caught a whiff of whatever the smoke was, and gagged as her stomach tried to twist itself in a knot in her belly. She retched, doubling up, her eyes streaming.
‘Away!’ Jurgis dragged her to the edge of the clearing, where a small brook ran past. She dropped down, held her face in the water and drank till the heaving subsided. She groaned and turned onto her back.
‘Otha’s Tits. A spell of malignance.’
‘Another thing she lied about.’ Jurgis sank down beside her. ‘You’re all right?’
Maud nodded weakly. ‘She wanted to kill the kobolds. And us.’
‘That’s why she smiled all the time,’ Jurgis said bitterly. ‘Her harmless little globe would’ve killed all life in those caves, clearing the way for her to get the wand herself. Damned treacherous woman.’
Maud rose, a little wobbly. She burped. ‘We’re warned of these spells. To be of any use to the caster, they must be powerful but quick, like a grenade. Its effect should be gone now. I’m going down; I must be sure the bitch is dead.’
They walked over to the well. A vast silence hung around it. No sounds from below, no insects buzzing, nothing.
‘I think you’re right,’ Jurgis said, looking into its depth. ‘All the smoke has evaporated.’
Maud fought down her queasiness. She swung her legs over the rim and climbed down.
In the cave she saw Sari’s body lying beside her chair in a crumpled heap of green cloth, with one braid undone and her face buried under a shroud of gray hair.
‘She’s dead!’
‘You don’t have to shout,’ Jurgis said almost in her ear. ‘I’m right behind you.’
Maud jumped, heart racing. ‘Curse it! I thought you were still up there.’
The boy gave a snort. ‘And let you go alone?’
‘Sorry.’ Maud patted his arm, before bending over the dead body. ‘She didn’t die a pleasant death.’ Sari’s swollen tongue and protruding, bloodshot eyes were proof of that.
Jurgis spat on the ground. ‘Wicked witch!’ he growled. Then he brightened, looking around and rubbing his han
ds in anticipation. ‘Let’s see what we can find.’
‘Stealing?’ Maud said.
‘Of course not. You can’t steal from the dead. Besides, she owed us for her trickery.’
The lioness shook her head. ‘Glib, master thief; very glib.’
Jurgis didn’t listen. Triumphantly, he held up a linen bag. ‘Look, chockfull of coins. Here on the table’s a ring, a neck chain, and ... No, I’m not going to rob the body. The candelabrum is nice but too heavy. A pity, it looks valuable.’ He opened the cupboard at the back and clapped his hands. ‘Great, food! Your turn to load up; my pack is nearly full with the wand.’
With a sigh, Maud stowed the bread, a bit of cheese, a few apples and a little pot of honey away. ‘Enough. We’re getting out. Let’s see if that wandering spell is gone as the kobold king said.’
Once back in the clearing, they ran, following the brook north. After a time, Maud halted. ‘It worked! We haven’t been here before.’ She burped again, massaging her stomach. She felt tired. No wonder. We’ve both been up and about for two full days. ‘We need some sleep.’
She pointed to two large trees, standing in a patch of soft moss. ‘You sleep over there, and I here.’
Jurgis looked at her with raised eyebrows. ‘What are you afraid of?’
‘Me,’ she said bluntly. ‘You’re my charge. Untouchable.’
‘There are times your Kell morality is stifling,’ Jurgis said in sudden anger. He dumped his stuff under the tree she had indicated and lay down, turning his back to her.
Maud wanted to go to him. You don’t understand! Instead, she gritted her teeth and went to the spot she’d chosen for herself. It took a long time before sleep found her there, and all the while she lay listening to Jurgis’ soft breathing a cold tree away from her.
CHAPTER 7 - THE DAISEE
At daybreak, Maud woke with no more than a grunt from Jurgis to acknowledge her existence. They ate in chilly silence, packed up and walked on. The sun shone, but her rays seemed without warmth. Damn you, she wanted to shout. Why don’t you understand? But Jurgis was angry, and he made it clear he wasn’t about to stop showing it. That night he didn’t wait for her, but chose his own tree and lay down without a word.
Again, Maud slept badly, and the next sunup started as a repeat of the day before. Jurgis rose cold and formal, and sat in morose silence as he munched his bread and honey. Maud looked at him and suppressed the urge to slap him.
‘Can’t you see it from my side?’ she burst out. ‘I’m ordered to deliver you safe and unharmed into the prince-warlock’s hands. I cannot, must not touch you.’
‘Have you tried to see it from my side?’ Jurgis bit into his bread and chewed for a moment. ‘I don’t need your protectiveness; I’m perfectly able to take care of myself. You’re overdoing it, girl; that irritates the crap out of me. You forget I’ve been my own man for years.’
Maud gritted her teeth. ‘You’re a man, that’s just the problem. Men are weak, to be cherished. I have to protect you; that’s a woman’s duty.’
Jurgis sprayed bits of stale bread as he laughed. ‘Where I come from, it’s the other way round.’ For a moment, he was busy swallowing. ‘Why are you Kell women such bullies?’
‘We’re not!’ she retorted. ‘We ... I guess we are used to being on top.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘What do you know of our history?’
‘Of the Kells? Nothing at all,’ Jurgis said. ‘My education stopped when my father lost all his money.’
Maud paused a moment to gather her thoughts. ‘Before the war we lived in Old Kell, on the continent. We were a land of clans, each one owner of grounds that had been theirs for thousands of years. We were hunters, farmers and above all, warriors. Our leaders dabbled in magic. Shamanic magic.’ Maud looked at Jurgis. ‘Accursed magic. The shamans were powerful. They practiced dark rites that made them even stronger and more covetous. Then came the day old pacts were broken. Ancient blood oaths shattered. The shamans went to war. Clan to clan, village to village, one to one. Many of my people died in these wars. Hundreds of thousands, so the wisewomen tell us.’ She shifted uncomfortably; the tale of ancient disgrace was still painful to tell.
‘For years, the males fought. Whole clans were reduced to a handful of females, children and old ones, clinging to their nearly empty homes. Then, out of the blue, the Unwaari came. To our eternal shame, we, who prided ourselves on our fighting prowess, had to flee. That’s how we came to Malgarth. The high king gave us a wild and unused stretch of land, and we built Tar Kell.’ She didn’t speak of the contempt with which the Garthans received her people. The isolation, the humiliation of status lost and being unwanted refugees. Those tales were too painful.
‘With most of the shamans dead, the wisewomen took charge. They knew things had to change, or we would cease to exist. The wisewomen pooled their knowledge and began what we now call the Turnaround. Through spells and herbs, they managed to reduce the male aggression in our seed, while increasing the female dominance. They strove for equality, a balance between male aggression and female wisdom. Only something must have happened, for the newborn boys turned into weak, will-less males, small and soft. The baby girls grew into ...’ Maud hesitated. ‘Me. Tall warrioresses who tend to be bossy and need to fight or to fuck to stay sane. Warrioresses who fought to regain their people’s pride and win a grudging respect from the Garthans.’
‘Can’t those wisewomen do something?’ Jurgis said. ‘Bring back the balance?’
‘The ones who knew about these things all died. The spells had sapped their energy and they withered away. They hadn’t foreseen that, either.’ ‘Maud shrugged. ‘So now we are stuck with males who are good for only the simplest of chores, and to relieve our needs.’
‘I’m no Kell,’ Jurgis said, and his face was hard. ‘I’m not soft and meek, I can’t cook, and I refuse to be dominated. You and I, we can only be equals, like those elders of yours intended.’
Maud rocked back on her heels and stared at him. Equals with a male? True, he hasn’t disappointed me yet. He is small, but not a weakling. Perhaps Hala had it right, and the men of other nations are different. I ... What is he doing? He’s taking off his shirt. Gods, he does look tasty. No! He’s... ‘Stop that!’ she said hoarsely. ‘Keep your pants on.’
‘I’m not your passive male,’ Jurgis said in a steely voice, and he threw his clothing aside. ‘Come, I’ll show you the difference.’
She jumped to her feet. ‘Damn it, boy. Stop goading me.’
His smile was grim as he stepped forward and let his thumb caress her biceps.
She gasped as a long shiver ran through her body.
Then his fingers went to the clasps of her breastplate.
Hot anger burst in her breast. ‘Stop! I can do that myself.’ Quickly she loosened the fastenings and let the heavy leather fall to the ground. Her boots followed and then her pants. Equally naked, she stood opposite him. Her heart threatened to burst; even with her first lover her feelings hadn’t been this strong. To the hells with the rules! she thought fleetingly. With two steps, she was at him. Her hands grasped his torso and, moaning, she pulled him to her. Their bodies met, and they made love with an urgency that surprised them both.
The sun played through the leaves overhead as Maud woke for the second time. She opened her eyes, to find Jurgis sitting against a tree, fully dressed, arms around his knees, staring at her.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Feel better now?’
Wordlessly, she nodded. It was as if all the strain she’d built up since Hala’s death and even before, had dissipated. Full of the afterglow of their lovemaking, she stretched.
‘Me too. It was all I’d hoped for and more.’ He sprang up and rubbed his hands. ‘I had a look around. We are almost at the Bluelynd River. And you know what? There is a river barge waiting for us. The crew’d been fishing, waiting for the lock to open, whatever that may mean. They won’t be the locks I’m accustomed to. They’ll take us for a modest sum. But you do have
to hurry, for they’re about to sail.’
Maud sat up. ‘A barge! Where are they bound?’
‘Some place called Codnoallis. It’s on the coast, they said. Won’t be a very busy port, I guess. They didn’t look like very busy bargemen, either.’
Maud dressed in a hurry. Then, buckling her giant sword to her back, she cried, ‘Lead the way!’
Jurgis walked over to a cluster of large bushes. ‘I was going to piss,’ he said. ‘I noticed it just in time.’
Maud grinned; the bushes overhung the river. Had he been less alert, he’d have walked right into it. Then she saw the barge was but three hundred feet away from where they’d been making love. Disconcerted, she frowned. ‘Were we very loud?’
‘Who cares,’ the boy said. ‘I could shout it from the treetops.’
You are not a Kell lioness, she thought. I must think of my reputation. With some trepidation, she jumped on board, but the three Garthan bargemen seemed half-asleep and only one of them greeted their arrival with a wave of his hand.
‘Now what?’ Jurgis whispered, looking at the somnolent crew. No one answered.
Maud shrugged and walked to the prow. On the other side of the river, the land was an endless panorama of reeds, grass, water and some isolated trees.
‘I remember Isaudor speaking of the marshes,’ Jurgis said. ‘They stretch out east for many miles. Lonely lands, he called it. Water fowl, crocodiles, midges, all the way to the coast and the Bay of Kings.’
As if a single mind steered them, the bargemen rose from their slumber. Still without speaking, they undid the mooring lines and pushed the flatboat into the stream. When the current caught her, they raised the small sail, and off they went.
The river was broad and placid, ambling its way through the foothills. On both sides were endless peat bogs; the only sign of civilization was a wooden path running parallel to the water. For a while, a small stranger enveloped in an overlarge, hooded mantle, walked up with them. Whether it was a man or a woman wasn’t distinguishable, for the stranger plodded along without looking or answering their friendly wave.
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