A E Johnson

by alice johnson

  Brenin’s mind had been plagued with her words,

  he would do anything to change the painful subject of

  war. “I don’t yet, but one day I would like many

  children.”

  The Unknown Girl was certainly odd, she

  suddenly stopped. “I think we should go back; it isn’t

  safe this way.”

  Brenin caught his hands behind his back as he

  turned towards her. “What makes you say that?”

  Without a single thought the girl replied, “My

  secrets.” Brenin looked confused towards the girl. The

  secrets she spoke of were certainly frighteningly odd.

  “They told that a pack of wild boar are roaming close

  to the border of the forest, last year a boy was severely

  injured by them. We should turn back.”

  He was intrigued about the girl’s ‘secrets.’ “How

  did your secrets tell you this?”

  “In my head,” she replied with a high tone, she was

  surprised he would even have to ask.

  “Very well,” he agreed. They both turned and

  headed back towards the camp. Such a strange

  interaction was yet to get even stranger as they came

  upon the old path into the forest.

  The forest was now only used by the Unknown

  Girl. A small village beyond the woods would often

  bring supplies to the camp. A new road had been

  built, along the northern pass, they no longer found

  the need to use the old road in the forest.

  Brenin began to make his way out of the darkness,

  clambering through the low trees, the same way he had

  entered.

  His attention was soon caught; he noticed the girl

  had stopped near the old unused path. His curiosity

  had taken hold of him, as he watched through the

  breaks in the trees, towards the Unknown Girl.

  Peering towards her from the other side of the

  forest, he saw her lift her tiny hand towards the old,

  overgrown path. Slowly, the brambles loosened their

  grip with the ground, the bindweeds began to retreat

  into the darkness of the forest. Dust was sent flying

  from the dry old road below. He heard the loud

  creaking and cracks of breaking and loosening. For the

  first time in over ten years the path started to show. A

  long-cobbled path could be seen, stretching into the

  heart of the forest. The girl simply stood with her

  hand in the air towards it. Brambles at the side slowly

  crept back into the ground, the small sapling trees

  were slowly sucked back between the cobble stones.

  Brenin was awestricken. He knew of the power of

  the pooka, an ability to change nature, helping it grow,

  and yet, he had never seen or heard of such power in

  a fey. The girl was strange, but it was the most

  beautiful version of strange he had ever seen.

  Skipping back towards the camps the Unknown

  Girl joined his side.

  “That’s better,” she said with innocent wit. “I keep

  getting caught by brambles,” she explained. He

  struggled to remain plain faced. “But now, I’m very

  tired.”

  Brenin could see that her powers had a staggering

  potential. He could think of no words, he had never

  even seen the pooka with such strong power over

  nature. She even rivalled the fey, with all their magical

  might they seemed to have nothing on the tiny,

  Unknown Girl. Brenin followed her back towards the

  camp.

  His mind was on fire with questions, he could not

  leave her in the camp, her talent would either be

  wasted or exploited, either way, he had a need to keep

  her safe.

  “I think that today you should be given your

  name.”

  The girl turned. A look of utter delight spread

  across her face. “I would like that, but I don’t know if

  I’m ready.” Self-doubt took hold of her.

  Brenin knelt in front of her. His knees thudded to

  the ground. “What do you need to be ready for?”

  The Unknown Girl was remarkable, she knew

  what question she needed to ask, but she would only

  take her name with the right answer. “I need to know

  my purpose,” she softly said.

  “Your purpose is to be the best form of you, you

  can possibly be, anyone’s purpose, is to protect their

  world, to lead by example, to follow with heart and

  honesty.” Each word he spoke seemed to ignite the

  Unknown Girl’s spirit.

  Her eyes lit with pride, “To lead, to follow, to

  protect, by being who you are,” she said with a smile, it

  was the answer she had waited long to hear. “I can be

  that.” Her lip seemed to quiver as she softly said,

  “Then I shall be that; I shall be Librye.”

  Brenin stood, he knew the name of the ancient

  ones, the gods on high, the name of Librye was only

  given to the Valkyrie who had earned the name, ‘How

  did the little girl know?’ he wondered, ‘How could

  she, at only five, possibly know that the name of

  Librye even exists?’

  “Then your name is Librye, and that’s what it shall

  always be,” he softly said.

  Making their way back to the camp, Brenin could

  think of a thousand questions for the child, but he

  only wanted the answer to one.

  “How would you like to live in a palace, Librye?”

  he asked as she skipped by his side.

  “I would like that.” Her innocent sweet voice sent

  a shiver through him each time she spoke. “But I

  wouldn’t be allowed in a palace.” She was certain of

  her words.

  Brenin felt enchanted by the child. “Why wouldn’t

  you be allowed?”

  Librye stopped skipping, she stood completely still

  as she replied, “Because, I’m a fucking freak.”

  His heart seemed to stop as he heard her say such

  a thing, “Why would you say that?” he asked, shocked

  at her words.

  “That’s what the other children say, my back isn’t

  right, there’s a lot wrong with me, even Madoc thinks

  me strange,” she said with a twisted mouth.

  Brenin took Librye’s hand in his. “Do not listen to

  them,” he insisted, “remember, I’m a king, I like nice

  things, that is why I like you.” His smile grew as he

  became lost in her innocent eyes.

  She said with a solemn voice, “But I am strange, I

  like it that way, but I don’t like my back, sometimes, it

  hurts, a lot.”

  Brenin’s curiosity had again been triggered. “What

  is wrong with your back?”

  Librye turned; she pulled her tatty cotton dress

  forward to show the outline of the lumps on her back.

  “One of the boys once said my dad fucked a torb, and

  I was a freak, another said my mum was a porne of the

  Xencliff taverns, her client was a torb and had me,

  either way, they say I was unwanted.”

  Brenin inspected her back, his decision was made

  from then, the Unknown Girl would soon be known

  to all. Such power could not be wasted in a war camp,

  such a talented mind bel
onged by his side, at only five

  he knew he could mould the girl into the woman he

  knew she could be, the protector, the spirited leader,

  the loyal follower, whilst remaining herself, Librye.

  As the morning broke, so did the skies above. The

  north would often bring an early snow before winter

  engulfed the lands. The old forest had turned to a

  frozen vista, offering nothing but a bitter, windswept,

  and unwelcoming warning. Still, as the snow

  consumed the land around them, Librye skipped from

  bunkhouse thirteen and made her way towards the

  forest. Making her way to the old path, now covered

  with snow, it still offered an easier way into the forest.

  From his slumber, Brenin woke. He did not plan

  on staying long in the camp, his plan was fulfilled, he

  had seen the camp, he had shown his face. Brenin

  knew that the news would soon spread towards

  Bourellis, that the voice of the pooka and torb’s had

  been heard. The king had been to inspect the camps,

  and improvements would now be made.

  As he emerged from the guest house, he made his

  way towards the warden’s hut, hoping Madoc was

  already there. Constantly followed by his guards,

  Brenin needed a break from the mundane every day

  of his title. Stepping into the hut, he saw Madoc stood

  by the window.

  Madoc turned and greeted him with an arm across

  his chest.

  “The winter will be a harsh one,” said Madoc, he

  murmured, “this close to the Ceile moon usually

  offers a warning of snow, but this will cause some

  upset.”

  Brenin stepped into the room. “Speaking of

  upset,” he said with a low tone, “the girl, she told me

  her name.” Madoc turned; he was awestricken. “She

  also told me a few other things. I would’ve mentioned

  it when I returned.” He stepped towards the window,

  the cracks on the glass had already begun to show as

  the deep freeze set in. “I saw the power you

  mentioned.” Brenin raised his brow. “Matters like this

  should be reported to the council,” he warned.

  Madoc shook his head in disbelief, “The council

  would do nothing, I mean no disrespect, to yourself or

  the council, but the child was safest here.”

  “I don’t mean the Cronnin council,” said Brenin,

  his tone became soft as he looked from the window, in

  the hope of seeing Librye. “I mean the council of

  Bourellis, the power the child holds, is beyond

  anything I’ve seen before,” Brenin turned to Madoc,

  “that is why, upon my return from Marrion, I expect

  to see the child, in the palace of Cronnin.”

  Madoc shook his head. “I know I will be stricken

  down for this,” his voice quivered, “I would need

  permission from the Cronnin council, to remove a

  child from the camp, without a parent –”

  “I’m the king, Madoc!” barked Brenin. He gave a

  cynical look to Madoc, he laughed and replied, “I can

  defend my arguments,” he looked from the window.

  “Have her in the palace before the Seooer moon, I’ll

  be sending for her myself, by the time she arrives in

  the palace, I should be returning.”

  Madoc would not argue, he knew that Brenin

  could be eccentric, but to adopt a child was unheard

  of from a king, queen, or anyone of nobility. She

  would become the kings ward, but how the council

  would react would be a sight for Brenin’s own

  pleasure.

  He enjoyed annoying his council, usually through

  harmless decisions, he would often plan trips to other

  kingdoms without them knowing, only to arrive back

  to a stressed council in tatters. Brenin’s power had

  dwindled with time, but he still had his own supply of

  power he kept to himself.

  Stepping from the hut the deal was done. As

  Brenin made his way from the hut towards the old

  forest, he somehow knew he would find Librye

  somewhere amongst the trees. Each step he took

  sounded like a hundred steps, it grinded at him,

  suddenly he turned, the same four guards followed

  him.

  “I can’t even piss in peace!” he shouted to them.

  The guards stood back.

  One raised the courage to speak. “Apologies, Sire,

  but it is our duty to protect,” he sheepishly said.

  Brenin’s eyes looked sharply towards the guard. “I

  am your commander!” he barked, “these woods are

  surrounded by pooka, never in the history of

  Cammbour has a pooka harmed anyone, I don’t

  believe they’re going to start now,” he mocked, “now,

  take the rest of the day off to contemplate your future

  in the Kings Guard.”

  The men quickly turned and walked back towards

  the camp. Brenin was finally left in peace. He made

  his way towards the path he had seen Librye free the

  day before. Stepping onto the path, he could see her

  small footprints in the snow. The tiny girl had left

  imprints all the way to the fallen redwood where she

  sat. Hearing him approach, Librye turned.

  “If you’re here to see Mother, she isn’t here,” she

  said with a tone of disappointment.

  “I’m here to see you,” said Brenin as he made his

  way towards her, “I have news for you, Librye.”

  She turned to see him as he arrived at the clearing.

  “Is it about the palace?” her look of expectation

  startled Brenin.

  Brenin drew back. “How did you know that?” he

  asked utterly baffled.

  She looked to the redwood and began to dust the

  snow from it. “My secrets, they told me that I need to

  say goodbye by the end of the next moon,” she

  revealed.

  Brenin said, in a satirical tone, “There goes my

  surprise then.”

  The day was spent with his advisers, plans were set

  for the masons to build a hundred new bunkhouses,

  twenty new bath houses, five new mills and twenty new

  training camps. The fey of Sonnin would be invaluable

  in the camps, as the training soldiers would be sent to

  instruct the next generation of fighters. Warriors

  would be sent from the war camps; their vengeance

  would be realised for many.

  Her secrets had been kind to her, she was only a

  child, they needed to be gentle with her. As Librye

  made her way back that night towards bunkhouse

  thirteen, she felt strange, stricken with something she

  had not felt in a while. Change had hit her, it had

  welcomed her, and she finally knew what excitement

  was. The girl would finally be free from the camps.

  The lingering evening soon hit Librye, looking

  from the window over her small, crooked bed, she

  glared towards the snow. Voices of young girls all

  around her seemed dull in her moment of

  contemplation. The vale of snow seemed perfect, a

  strange glow over the forest seemed to light the

  mountain, the moon was bright that night, it was the

  brightest s
he had ever seen it before. A strange feeling

  of hope lingered, her heart was beating fast, knowing

  she would eventually see the palace of Cronnin. Her

  secrets were never cruel, but they were honest, she

  knew her life was about to change, but she also felt the

  impending fate her secrets had placed on her tiny

  shoulders.

  Chapter Three Meeting in Marrion.

  he harsh winter winds died; the rough

  mountainous terrain turned to beaten rock

  T paths. Scattered grasses remained short in the

  harsh sun as it blasted down on the land. The passing

  to Marrion would usually take no more than four days,

  but as the stone and shingle landscape began to

  change, so did their speed. They left the north, and

  headed south west. Angry sandstorms swirled in the

  skies; it took days from their already gruelling journey.

  Finally, the rolling orange hills of Marrion were in

  sight, the heat was a horrifying change for them. The

  Kings Guard were ready for a rest, but Marrion was a

  place of ongoing war. Time slowed as they saw the

  towering castle. Chests tightened, their legs weakened,

  even the horses could sense the anxious moods of

  their riders.

  A grey, towering castle stood upon a large bay on

  the coast. Its haunting appearance stood dark on the

  bright orange landscape. The dry sand of Marrion

  clung to everything, a mist of orange and yellow wind

  created an everlasting sunset on the land. The cliffs

  where castle Marrion stood, towered over the large

  field to the west. Its empowering presence stood

  proud above the rolling fields below which led towards

  the blue sea of Endrea.

  A distant call of sea birds was lost as the call of

  carrion crows took over. Nature was outcast in a land

  taken by the bloody battles the Atlanti had brought.

  “Their mission to conquer far out-weighs their

  intellectual capabilities,” said Brenin. His carriage kept

  him comfortable from the chaos outside. Small dark

  circles under his eyes told of his concern. Afie, his

  chief adviser had seen his slow decline since leaving

  the camps. He sat in the rocking carriage as it

  thundered into Marrion, with his elbows resting on his

  knees.

  Afie sat opposite Brenin. She was a small woman,

  she had seen Brenin grow from a small needy child, to