A E Johnson

by alice johnson

  animalistic fury as they bounded towards him.

  For most, a wild gobgee would be their end, but

  for Harris, it was a game, a chance to rid him of some

  pent-up anger. Slicing, thrusting, and gashing, he took

  the three in seconds. Their blood now covered the

  road, Harris stood silent in the woods, listening for

  more. “Is that it!” he shouted. His swords dripped

  with the stench of gobgee blood.

  His eyes twisted through the woods. The rain had

  stopped, but he could still hear something strange, a

  thundering, but not from the sky, a booming of

  running paws thundered towards him from the west of

  the woods. Harris turned to face the oncoming cohort

  of gobgee. He could have counted by listening, but

  rather he took up his position, digging his heels in, he

  waited. The booming became louder, the sounds of

  heavy breathing belted towards him. His sword drifted

  from his arm and sliced the first few down. He danced

  in the night-time darkness, spinning and slicing,

  jumping, and thrusting. One after another they tried to

  get a bite but were quickly taken by him. Over thirty

  gobgee now lay battered, beaten, and dead, in the

  woodlands of the Grenhilda valley. Harris was not

  impressed that they were so close to Cronnin, his

  journey would now become urgent, he needed to

  return, and fast.

  Brenin had remained in his chambers. As the

  evening began to break over the city outside, he

  wandered into his chambers. Librye was sat on the

  mezzanine, Brenin looked towards her, the

  atmosphere was clearly one of broken annoyance.

  “Heart, I apologise,” he looked towards the

  mezzanine, he could only see the top of her golden

  head as he looked up.

  Sat against a bookcase, Librye did not even have a

  book in hand as she sat with her arms wrapped

  around her knees. “Why did you go?” Her broken

  voice broke him down more.

  Brenin sat at his desk. He wanted to answer as

  honestly as he could. “Because, the war is still

  ongoing, I am needed elsewhere, that is what I would

  say, if I believed it, even I don’t believe that anymore.”

  He was defeated, his day of being shouted at was

  starting to pay off.

  “I know why,” said Librye as she stood. Slowly she

  walked down the mezzanine and headed towards the

  stairs, “you’re lonely here, you hate the council

  meetings, you don’t search for adventures, but you do

  search for a change of the norm, you’re capable of

  doing your work from here, but you also need the

  freedom.”

  Her honesty spoke volumes to Brenin, he stood

  and walked towards her. “I truly apologise, I promised

  to give you a happy life here, but so far I have not

  been here enough.” His days of travelling were slowly

  ending, but he knew his days of adventure were just

  beginning. Librye was the child of the stars, his work

  would now revolve around her.

  Each morning Harelda woke, it was with the

  excitement of spending more time with Librye.

  Awaiting her arrival, Librye waited on the porch. The

  gardens were not as bright that day as rain moved

  towards them from the west. Librye still looked

  forward to learning more from Harelda.

  “Good morning,” greeted Harelda as she met

  Librye on the porch.

  “Tell me more about the magic of the fey?” Librye

  immediately asked, wanting her lessons to begin as

  quickly as possible.

  The days of wandering in the palace gardens were

  indeed pleasing for Harelda, but the child had a thirst

  for knowledge she simply could not quench.

  “I have told you all I can, child. The fey deal with

  the other world, the spirits of old, drifting between

  worlds, our most sacred are the Valkyrie.” Her calm

  voice seemed to have lost its power.

  “Then tell me of the Valkyrie?” asked Librye, her

  eyes widened. With a wide smile, Librye took

  Harelda’s hand and began to make her way to the path

  and towards the gardens.

  Harelda was impressed with her questioning, she

  seemed to know more than Harelda gave credit. “My

  daughters are with the Valkyrie, so this is something I

  can answer,” replied Harelda with raised brows. Her

  posture remained upright. A cool breeze drifted from

  the west. “The fey have a portal to the other world, the

  world of the dead; the Valkyrie are a chosen few who

  serve Haridon…”

  “The god of the otherworld?” Librye interrupted.

  Harelda gave a wide smile and slow blink. “That is

  correct, the duty of the Valkyrie is to ensure that all

  arrive in the otherworld, just as they should, the

  Valkyrie are still alive, but they are as spirits to this

  world.”

  Librye was fascinated. “They serve for ten years in

  the temples of Tyrone; do you miss your daughters?”

  “Of course I do,” said Harelda, her laughter

  covered the worry she had for her children, “they are

  not Valkyrie, they are temple sharmas, they care for

  the vessel left by the Valkyrie, while they do their

  service, I can do nothing to help them, but the temples

  are safe, protected by the gods,” she seemed to show

  some fear, clearly she was unsure of their safety, but

  did not wish to admit it.

  As they came to the lane towards the meadows

  Harelda spoke of the ancient spirits of the trees, the

  world and how everything is connected, she then

  mentioned something, close to Librye’s heart.

  “The pooka are the ones who will teach you all

  you need to know of nature’s magic, I know you’re

  already well versed in their teachings though,” said

  Harelda as she walked beside Librye.

  “Mother once said I have the powers of the pooka,

  like I showed you.” Her innocent eyes drifted to meet

  Harelda. “She also told me, of an ancient scribe, who

  made prophecies. I’ve heard of the prophecies, but I

  haven’t seen them for myself, tell me about them?”

  “The prophecy you speak of is of a child, born as a

  gift to Cammbour, containing the gifts of all creatures,

  good and bad, to unite the world.” Her voice held a

  tone of wonder, mystery, Librye was intrigued. “The

  child of the stars is also the child that will grow to

  guide the world towards the change that is needed.”

  Her constant tone of power never seemed to wither.

  “You are the child of the stars, Librye, many peoples

  will wish to know you, they will all wish to meet you,

  but we will need to protect you.” Her tender smile

  towards Librye brought comfort.

  “But, if I am made of all, then that means the

  Atlanti and gobgee?” said Librye, seemingly confused.

  “Aren’t we supposed to be fighting them?”

  Harelda stopped walking, she crouched in front of

  Librye. “We do not fight, we are trying to tame them,
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  to guide them, as you grow you may discover that your

  anger rivals the Atlanti, your need for solitude is like

  that of the gobgee, but these are all things, we can

  discover, together.” Her heartfelt words comforted

  Librye, the thought of being part of the Atlanti and

  gobgee at first frightened her, but now, it did not seem

  as disturbing for her.

  Stepping in to Brenin’s chambers, Mord brought

  his breakfast in. He had not yet left his desk, his days

  galivanting piled work onto his desk. Silently she

  placed his plate beside him.

  “Apologies, Mord,” he murmured, he was far too

  ashamed to even look to her, “you were right.”

  “I know,” said Mord with a slight smile, “I am

  seldom wrong.” Brenin remained looking to his

  papers, but he could not help but laugh. Mord was

  honest with Brenin, not many would speak to him the

  way she had, but her words were honest, he respected

  honesty, he respected Mord.

  Brenin sat alone in his chambers as the afternoon

  lingered. His eyes had turned from his desk, his

  constant eyeing over poorly written parchments, were

  beginning to drag him further than he already felt.

  Having turned his chair to watch from the window

  and contemplate his future, he heard the voice of

  Harelda. “The gardens are a joy this time of year.”

  Startled, Brenin stood. “It is wonderful to have you

  here,” he greeted with joy as he walked towards her.

  “I’ve not left Sonnin in so long, it’s wonderful to be

  anywhere for me,” mocked Harelda. Making herself

  comfortable in the chair at Brenin’s desk, Brenin sat

  also, having turned his chair back. “Librye is

  remarkable, the true child of the stars,” she was

  forward with Brenin, honest, “although the work will

  begin now, she is just a child, she will need to retain

  that, however she will also need to be taught all we can

  teach her.”

  “She belongs here, Harelda,” insisted Brenin.

  Harelda argued, “She is not your daughter.”

  Her derisive tone seemed to trigger a fatherly side

  to Brenin, he did not know he had. “Not yet, but

  eventually, given the approval from the council she

  may take the title of Oakwood.”

  Harelda shook her head. “She can never take your

  title of queen,” she sorrowfully said, “I know you see

  her as a wonder, but try seeing her as a daughter, then

  your thoughts may change on where she is better

  placed in this world. Our children are our future,

  keeping them at arms-length can do more damage

  than good.” Her warning was clear.

  “That reminds me,” said Brenin as he sat back, “I

  met Branwen, in Marrion,” he saw a slight light in

  Harelda’s eyes, “she is well,” he assured with softened

  eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me she had been tending to

  my commander?”

  Harelda’s eyes drifted through the room, her head

  followed. “She is not easily tempted,” laughed

  Harelda, “her chastity means more to her than it does

  me, I simply want her to be well, I also hear that

  Harris Bearwood is a protector, who better for my

  daughter to care for than a man who cares for all

  women?”

  Brenin seemed confused. “Then if they decide

  that they share an affection?”

  “Then I would be sure to add a new eunuch to the

  temples of Tyrone.” Her warning was clear. “My

  children are destined for greatness, kingdoms are what

  they will all see, not a bloodied commander, who

  struggles to keep his cock to himself.”

  “You approve of everything he does…”

  “But not my daughter!” snapped Harelda. The

  power she was renowned for seemed to show more

  than ever, the very thought of her daughter and Harris,

  disgusted her. “I can approve of his battle plans, his

  attempts to rescue this world from the shit storm that’s

  hit us, but not with my daughter, trust me, Brenin, he

  isn’t to lay a finger on a single hair on her head, I still

  have the power to destroy whomever I choose.”

  Brenin stood, he quickly wished to change the

  dark mood which had taken over the room. “We

  need to discuss our plans, moving forward.”

  Harelda reclined back. “A plan for Librye will be

  set in place, you enjoy your travel, let us see that your

  final days of travel are with the girl you wish to call

  your daughter.” Her suggestion was met with a glare of

  disapproval from Brenin. “Your travelling days will

  end soon, Brenin, just as mine did. For now, settle

  into palace life.” She stood to leave. “Find yourself a

  wife,” she forcefully suggested, “you aren’t getting any

  younger.” Harelda quickly left his chambers.

  Brenin was slowly being battered down by the

  insistence to find a wife. He looked to the guard at his

  door.

  “Seriously,” he said with his brows raised and eyes

  wide. “Does your wife have a sister?”

  “Sire,” said Evan, sheepishly, “I know it grinds at

  you, daily,” he slowly began. Evan relaxed his arm, his

  spear dropped slightly, lifting his arm he suggested,

  “Harelda, has many daughters, I’m sure she has seven,

  including Xania, they say she is the most beautiful

  creature to grace our lands.”

  Brenin glared towards Evan from under his brow.

  “I’m sixty-seven years old, Evan, hardly suitable for a

  woman in her thirties,” he replied with a low voice.

  “And what of Branwen?” asked Evan with his eyes

  wide, “I know she’s younger, but she is supposed to be

  the thinker of them all.” Brenin turned to face Evan,

  he began to walk towards him, threateningly, “this

  kingdom needs a leader, a woman with power,

  control, presence, she will provide all three, she isn’t

  one to give in easily, in fact, given the right training,

  coaching and encouragement, she could be better than

  Harelda.” His brows raised and remained fixed

  towards Brenin.

  Brenin’s mouth was gaping as he looked to Evan,

  he could not argue, he could see the sense in the

  union, but he also knew that Branwen was a child

  compared to him, she would have no interest in an old

  man.

  “I can see your sense, but I can also see a great

  regret in her, I would not want a wife who lives a life of

  regret, by the side of a tired old husband.”

  “Why not?” laughed Evan, “Mine does.” Brenin

  could not help but laugh. Although his mind was now

  working, the thought of having Branwen as a wife was

  not too farfetched. She had a potential to him, she

  showed power, strength, even if it was only a tiny

  amount, he knew it was there.

  The scraping and booming sound of hooves rode

  towards the western gate. In the dull wake of the early

  morning darkness, the guards gathered on the rampart

  towers. The gates we
re closed. The thundering stallion

  screamed as he began rearing at the gate. His rider,

  Harris, remained fixed to him.

  “Call your name!” shouted the guard atop the

  tower.

  “Commander Harris Bearwood!” he called, “and

  this is Svend!” he shouted with a laugh.

  Instantly the gate began to open, allowing Harris

  into the vast stone city of Cronnin. He had passed

  through Cronnin many times, but he had never stayed

  long enough to see the palace. Fearlessly he rode

  through the main streets of Cronnin and towards the

  palace. The early morning only saw the odd few

  market stalls as they opened for the day of trade. The

  fires in the bakeries were starting, blacksmiths were

  waking, the quiet city would soon become a place of

  bustling trade. His long black cape flailed behind him

  as he sped towards the palace gates. Again, Svend

  stopped at the gates and began screaming and rearing.

  “Call your name and purpose!” shouted a guard to

  the side of the gate, a long spear in his hand pointed

  towards Harris.

  Svend continued circling, he was trained to keep

  moving frantically to avoid making them both a sitting

  target. Harris’s face reddened at the sight of the spear.

  “Harris Bearwood, your new fucking commander,

  remove the pointer or I’ll remove your cock!”

  The guard straightened his spear. “Open!” he

  shouted.

  The gate began to open, Harris stopped Svend by

  the side of the guard. Frantically Harris asked, “Do

  you have dire here?”

  The guard shook his head and narrowed his eyes,

  he had no idea what Harris was asking. “Dire?”

  “Wolves you blithering idiot!” shouted Harris, “do

  you hold dire wolves here?”

  The guard frantically nodded. “We do, why?” he

  replied with a curled lip.

  “Out them now!” His voice was filled with anger,

  “the west of Grenhilda, I took down thirty myself, but

  more are out there, out the wolves, they’ll have them

  by morning.” Svend thundered towards the palace.

  Harris jumped from the still moving horse. Svend

  calmed. A stable hand ran towards them.

  “Here you go, Svend,” said Harris as he stroked

  Svend’s forehead, “a decent rest for you,” he handed

  the reins to the stable boy. “He needs resting, two days