by M. D. Grimm
"So, what, you live in a hut somewhere?"
I laughed, thinking of Geheimnis. "Not quite."
Thyn frowned harder. I met his eyes, lifted an eyebrow. "How long have you been in Happy Valley, Thyn?"
"Came from Cwaylin two weeks ago. No storms were predicted, and I managed to slog through. Heard this place was good to merchants and traders. Despite the happiness that oozes from this place, a lot of these creatures have a good eye for weapons. I've made a killing here." He paused. "Why?"
"Have you heard stories about the forest that borders the southern edge of this village?"
"Sure, who hasn't? You can't stay here in these parts for a day without hearing some dark tale." He took another deep gulp of ale. "What of them?"
"Have you heard of the Dark Mage?"
"What's with all the questions, Aishe? Why won't you tell me where--" He stopped. He stared.
I smiled innocently.
"By the Hunter's Bow and Creation's Light," he whispered. "Are you telling me you live in the Black Forest?"
"Its name is Vorgoroth, and no, not quite. I live in the castle fortress in the center. Its name is Geheimnis."
"But that's where the Dark Mage..." He turned pale, then took a sip of ale, looking a little sick. I patted his shoulder.
"So, you're the dialen who's... with the Dark Mage... Aishe, have you lost your mind?"
I chuckled at my friend's distress. I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it. My knowledge of Morgorth made those stories about the Dark Mage humorous. And the knowledge that he'd started most of the rumors himself only doubled my amusement. Not that I doubted some of them were true, and after what I'd seen Morgorth do, I never doubted his power. But the fear he invoked and the shyness I saw in him every day... He seemed like two different people.
"I'm quite in my right mind." I smiled. "I'm happy, Thyn, and there's more to him than what the stories say. He's good to me."
Thyn opened his mouth but closed it when he saw my expression. He swallowed and nodded. "Well, you'd know better than me... Aishe."
He knew the meaning of my name -- my ability to see the true self of a creature. I inclined my head. We talked for a time, mostly about where he'd been, all the creatures he'd met along the way. I didn't know how much I should tell him about my time with Morgorth. I didn't want to hurt what reputation my mate had, and Thyn, though a good dialen and friend, had a tendency to gossip and tell stories. He never wanted to break a promise, but he might on impulse.
"While I was in Cwaylin I heard the old king's dying."
My eyebrows lifted. "Really? How reliable are your sources?"
He shrugged. "Fairly reliable. I spoke to a guard outside the castle and a healer's assistant who was attending the king. Anyone will speak if you get them drunk enough."
I snorted. "I just hope the son is better than the father."
"How do you mean?"
"Old King Serpen wants this territory, and the Dark Mage has beaten him every time he sends an army. I hope the son's different."
"Weren't the kingdoms of Raskalin and Cwaylin always warring for this territory when he came?"
"Indeed, they were."
"Stupid on his part, wasn't it?"
I frowned. "The Dark Mage is many things, but stupid isn't one of them."
It was my cold tone that stiffened Thyn's shoulders. "You're really his mate."
"Yes."
"Well, you must have seen something in him."
"I saw many things in him, and I liked them all." I glanced out the window, realizing then how dark it had become. The sun was nearly completely set. I had to get back. I wasn't afraid of losing my way in the dark -- the trees had their own luminescence that allowed me to see my way easily. No, it wasn't the fear of darkness that had me running back. It was the promise that Morgorth had made in that bathtub. I would have him tonight.
"I have to go, Thyn. It was good to see you." We embraced briefly before I left the pub, jogging my way up the hill and racing through Vorgoroth, back to Geheimnis.
If there was one thing my tribe's massacre taught me, it was that life was just too short and precious to waste time getting to the good things. Never say "I'll get to it later," because there was no guarantee there would be a later.
Chapter Six
Several years earlier
I flung a bread roll at Wyndell, who caught it and took a large bite, grinning obnoxiously. My brother was being an ass -- which wasn't unusual -- and I had been trying to hit his face. Wyn had better reflexes than most. I glanced at our mother, who frowned with disapproval, but she said nothing.
"Thanks little brother," Wyn said before taking another large bite of the roll.
"Close your mouth Wyn," our father, Brelyn, snapped. Wyn immediately did as he was ordered, swallowing the bread in his mouth.
My family sat at a long table, which was surrounded by other long tables of other families. It was supper, and the sun was setting, coloring the leaves of the trees around us in vibrant jewel tones. The air was crisp, and since it was summer, the tribe hadn't put up their tents. Not yet, anyway. Many couples would eventually want the privacy they offered.
Fraylyn and Amyla sat on either side of me, while Wyn and Eulun sat across from us. Our parents sat on either end of the table, trying but failing to corral their children to eat with manners.
"Amyla, have you finished sewing your blue dress?" my mother Nunya asked.
My sister nodded happily, nearly bouncing in her seat. "I didn't want to wear it tonight though, since I saw Wyn attack the barrels of ale."
Wyn lowered his goblet and burped. "What? Did you say my name?"
Amyla giggled. I smiled. Fray chuckled.
"What?" Wyn demanded, his face becoming stubborn.
"Amyla was implying you might start a food fight," I said, raising an eyebrow.
"Me? No."
I wasn't fooled by his innocent look. "Really? Remember about a week ago..."
Wyn grinned proudly. "I didn't start that one, but I sure won."
"And we're all so proud," Eulun said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, and speaking of that food fight," Wyn pointed at me, "you need to work on your aim, brother." He smirked. "And that shot just now with the roll? Your strength is laughable. Amyla can throw better."
I scowled. "I wasn't really trying, Wyn. We are eating. And Mae and Pae are right here."
Each tribe had different intimate terms for mothers and fathers, and they were rarely used outside the immediate family. Our table qualified as immediate.
"Don't hold back your skills just because of us," Father said.
"Brelyn!" Mother said with a huff.
"Tomorrow then," my brother challenged me, "let me see you actually trying."
I wrinkled my nose. Wyn was really an ass. He was the warrior of the family, even though we were all trained in combat, even Amyla. But after our father, he was the best of my blood.
"No challenging your siblings to duels at the table." Exasperation was clear in Mother's tone. "Brelyn, would you please explain to your sons how childish they sound?"
Father smiled and shrugged indulgently. "What would you like me to do, my love? If Aishe can throw well, he should prove it."
"Thanks, Pae," I said sarcastically.
Father winked at me. "We all know how well your training is going, Aishe. Why not knock your brother down to size?"
My mouth twitched. Father encouraged friendly rivalry between his sons. He believed it actually brought us closer together and bred trust. If we knew how good the other ones were, then we could be certain they had our backs. I agreed logically, but sometimes it was just plain annoying.
"You are all so boring," Eulun said, his voice a drawl.
Wyn shoved our eldest brother. "What would you know? When was the last time you held a sword and went a round on the practice field?"
Eulun scowled. Fray piped up. "Yeah, come to think of it, when was the last time you were on the practice fields?"
"You'll get rusty," Amyla said cheerfully.
I laughed.
"Yeah, you might forget how to hold a sword." Fray chuckled. "You don't want to disgrace father and all of us, do you?"
Eulun glowered.
Mother looked at Father, her expression clearly showing what she thought of us. "Our children, my love."
Father snorted.
"Being a warrior's a lifetime trade," I added. Wyn, who had just shoved a hunk of meat into his mouth, nodded vigorously and pointed at me in agreement.
"Oh, shut up, Aishe," Eulun said, his eyes flashing with anger. "Considering you only recently learned how to shoot an arrow without killing a fellow student, I think you should shut your mouth."
My laughter died. I narrowed my eyes. "It's been years since my clumsiness prevented me from training, Eulun. I am a warrior now."
Eulun glared. Our eldest brother had become rather touchy of late, and I didn't know why. He'd become edgy, his temper closer to the surface. He seemed restless and bored with life. I couldn't fathom why. Every day bore the potential for something incredible.
"And we all know how Aishe got so good," Fray said jovially, slapping my back. "Found motivation, didn't you?"
My smile was tight.
"Right!" Wyn chimed in. I noticed he was on his tenth goblet of ale -- and they weren't small goblets. "It was that mage, right? What was his name? 'M' something..."
I clenched my hand around my goblet. Our table fell silent, and it felt like everyone was staring at me.
"Morgorth," I whispered tightly.
"Right! That was the mage's name," Wyn went on, obviously not sensing how much pain he was causing me. "He was a fun one, wasn't he? With all that magick-flinging. Funny clothes, though. And kinda short."
My throat burned, and I gulped down water, trying to ease it.
"Enough, Wyn," Mother said softly, her voice hard.
Even tipsy, Wyn recognized the tone. He blinked dumbly at her, then around the table. "What?"
Amyla silently laid a hand on my forearm. I stared at my plate, at the food on it. I wasn't hungry anymore.
"You're an idiot," Eulun said snappily at Wyn. Then he looked at me. "And so are you. And a child."
"That's enough, Eulun." Warning was clear in our father's voice, his tone booking no argument. But Eulun seemed to want to give one anyway.
"I don't think so." Eulun shoved his plate away. "I'm sick and tired of seeing him close up every time someone mentions that damn mage. Like his name is something sacred. Grow up, Aishe." Eulun stood and leaned across the table. "He's gone and he's never coming back. It's time to put away childish fantasies."
I lifted my eyes to his. My own burned, but not with tears -- with rage. I stood slowly and leaned across the table, our faces only inches apart. "You didn't think it was childish fantasies when he was saving your life. When he saved all our lives from that mage. You didn't think it was childish when he helped us protect our sacred charge."
The tables next to us had grown quiet as our family discord became noticed. My mention of the ruby our tribe protected increased the dark tension around us.
"You're such an ass, Eulun." Fray jerked to his feet. "Can't you see he's in love with the mage? How heartless are you?"
"Morgorth will come for him," Amyla joined in.
Father slammed his fists on the table, rattling the plates and goblets. His sudden rage rattled us as well. We all sat down, our eyes downcast.
"Enough," Father said forcefully, the hardness in his voice making me ashamed. I knew I wasn't the only one. "I want all of you to ask yourselves why you are arguing. Why are you mad at the other? Eulun, why does it matter to you what Aishe thinks or feels? His heart is his own. Aishe, why do you care what your brother thinks? You know what the truth is for you, don't you?"
I nodded.
"The rest of you, we do not take sides in this family. We are one. One blood, one family. Do you understand?"
We all nodded.
"Excuse me," I said a moment later. I stood and stepped over the bench, walking away from the table. I couldn't sit there, not anymore. My gut burned with pain, and I wanted solitude. I weaved my way between the tables, staring at the ground, trying to keep my emotions under control. The sun had fully set, the darkness settling quickly. I didn't go far, but I managed to escape from the ring of fires around our perimeter, finding a measure of privacy among the trees. I exhaled sharply, leaning against a tree.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared into the dark, not seeing anything but still hearing the noises of the tribe. How could Eulun be so callous? How could Fray and Wyn so carelessly mention him?
Morgorth.
Damn my eyes. I rubbed them, humiliated that I was crying again. I actively tried not to think about him, and there were some days where I didn't once remember his face or his voice. There were entire weeks where I only thought of him maybe five times, and only then in passing. But when he was flung at me like that... no warning, no regard for my sanity.
I desired him with a passion that was painful, a physical ache that never left my heart. Yes, he was the reason I had thrown myself into my studies, my training. He was my motivation, my reason I could shoot a bow, hold a sword or any other pole arm, hunt successfully, and heal the wounded. He was my reason for all of it, my prize at the end of the journey. He told me what I had to do to become his mate, and damned if I hadn't completed all those tasks.
So where was he? How long did I have to wait before we found each other again? It had been years and felt like centuries.
I looked back at the camp. They didn't understand. How could they? How could they possibly fathom the love and desperate desire I felt for Morgorth? It was obsessive, and part of me knew it wasn't healthy. The other part didn't care.
The snap of a twig pulled me out of my black musings. I turned back to the forest, frowning. My hand instinctually touched the sword at my hip. We had sentries, but even they might miss something. I didn't move, only watched and listened. When nothing came, not even the haunting whisper of the wind, I figured it was just a deer or maybe a squirrel.
Sighing, I turned back.
That was when the attack came.
I barely had any warning. The sensation of something coming at my back screamed at me, and I didn't question it. I ducked, rolled, and my sword flashed as it reflected the firelight. The dark mass flew over me, missing me by inches. It landed on all fours, scales gleaming in the light of the flames.
I gulped. Glenshod. How had a glenshod come upon us? They hated forests and actively worked to tear them all down. They were swamp creatures, loving the muck and stinking bogs.
The glenshod grinned at me, eyes gleaming, teeth flashing white. They were large and jagged. The beast blocked my escape to the camp, and even now he was slowly coming toward me, forcing me to back away, deeper into the dark. I gripped my sword tighter and stood, setting my stance.
"Come on, ugly," I dared it.
Unfairly stealthy, the glenshod rose on his back legs and flung himself at me. I barely managed to dodge in time. He towered over me, his height and bulk horribly intimidating. I'd never fought a glenshod before, and it seemed I was about to have a trial by fire.
A long, clawed arm whipped toward my head, and I ducked, cutting my sword at the beast's legs. The glenshod danced away, losing its solid stance. Using that to my advantage, I continued my charge, slicing my sword at any exposed flesh. The scales that covered his body were hard, and most deflected my sword; yet I managed to slice some tender skin between, and under the scales. I began to jab and thrust, keeping out of arm's reach, which was hard, considering his reach was greater than mine.
The glenshod growled and snarled, rich, red blood oozing out of his wounds. I managed to turn us to where my back was to my camp, and his was turned to the darkness. He seemed to notice that though, and charged, trying to change our positions. Instead of meeting his attack, knowing there was strength in numbers, I turned and ran as fast as
I could into the camp.
"Glenshod!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Everyone jumped to their feet just as the glenshod swiped his claws at my legs. He scored my calf, and I gasped in pain, my leg buckling underneath me. I turned my fall into a roll, but I knew I didn't stand a chance against the beast. He was right on my heels and followed my roll. He landed on me, and I managed to bring my sword up to act as a shield. The glenshod tried to bite my neck but got a mouthful of sharp iron.
It cut his gums, and his blood splattered on my face.
He raised his claw, about to slice me to ribbons, when three loud, fierce war cries echoed through the night. Three figures charged in unison at the glenshod, blades flashing in the night, all of them sinking into the glenhhod's breast, erupting from his back and spraying more blood onto the ground.
Strong, thin arms curled under mine in the same instant and tugged me back hard, away from the beast that fell to the ground, still twitching with life. It had all happened so fast; my mind was still wheeling to catch up. A sweet scent hit my nose, and I knew it was Amyla who held me, who had pulled me from harm's way. She was stronger than she looked.
And it was my three brothers who had skewered the beast. Wyn and Fray used their feet to roll the glenshod onto his back. Then the three of them yanked out their blades. The glenshod squirmed, still trying to fight. He waved his knobby arms in the air, trying to pierce flesh.
"Don't touch our brother, monster!" Wyn's voice was barely more than a growl, his eyes burning with battle rage. He lifted his sword and swiftly brought it down, severing the glenshod's neck. I panted in pain, my hand gripping my calf. It was a deep wound, covering my hand with my own sticky blood.
Eulun was the first to me. His face was pale, his mouth drawn tight. He used a knife to swiftly cut off one of his tunic sleeves and tied it around my wound. The bind was tight, but the blood still flowed. He cursed.
Amyla rocked me, and she was shaking. I gripped her hand, knowing how terrified she must be.
"Is he all right?" Fray asked, kneeling on my other side. He leaned forward and stared hard into my eyes.
"I'm not dead, you idiot," I said before scowling.