Lady Carliss and the Waters of Moorue

by Chuck Black

  “We’re going to Salisburg,” Carliss said. “At least there are people there who will help us.”

  Salina agreed, and they lifted Dalton to his feet once again. He was worse off now and seemed much heavier than before. As they struggled to lift him to his horse, the man called Oafy appeared at Carliss’s side. He tilted his head from one side to the other as they tried fruitlessly to get Dalton mounted.

  Finally Carliss turned to the man. “Please help,” she said with a gentle smile.

  Oafy dropped his broom and lifted Dalton as if he were lifting a child. Once Dalton was placed in the saddle, he slumped forward onto the neck of his horse. His head was turned toward Carliss and the large fellow.

  “Thank you,” Carliss said to Oafy, but he didn’t respond. He was studying Dalton’s face.

  He leaned in close to Dalton and squinted. He slowly brought a finger up to Dalton’s face and looked as if he was going to poke his eye. Carliss grabbed Oafy’s hand and gently pulled it away. He looked at Carliss.

  “Tolmew,” he said.

  “What?” Carliss asked.

  “Tolmew fix sick man,” the large fellow said again and pointed to Dalton.

  “Is Tolmew nearby?” Carliss asked, wondering how much he understood.

  The man seemed puzzled for a moment.

  “Carliss,” Salina said. “We need to go.”

  “Tolmew nearby,” the man said.

  Carliss looked at Dalton. Beads of sweat had formed above his brows and on his cheeks. She touched his forehead; it burned with fever. Something told her Dalton would never make it to Salisburg alive, but trusting Dalton’s life to this childlike street sweeper seemed absurd.

  Carliss looked deep into the eyes of her odd new friend. “What’s your name?”

  “Oafy,” the man said soberly.

  “What’s your real name?” Carliss tried once more.

  The man’s eyes seemed to droop, but a slight smile lit upon his face. He put his hand to his chest.

  “Ganoaf,” he said.

  Carliss smiled back. “Take us to Tolmew, Ganoaf.”

  THE ALCHEMIST

  Carliss didn’t like being responsible for Dalton’s life. He would live or die by her decisions, and she would have to live with that forever. She wished Koen was with her. He always seemed to know exactly what to do.

  They followed Ganoaf through Pembrook and into the country to the east. They traveled for some time along a road that wound through trees and hills. Finally, deep in a forested hollow, they came to a strange-looking hut. It was nestled in tightly with the surrounding trees.

  Ganoaf pointed to the hut. “Tolmew.”

  Carliss looked at Salina and then toward the house. She took a deep breath.

  “We don’t have much of a choice. Dalton’s getting worse by the moment.”

  Salina didn’t answer, but Carliss could tell by her face that she thought this was a waste of time. Ganoaf helped Carliss get Dalton off the horse, then carried him in his arms behind Carliss as she approached the door to the quaint, little forest hut. A yellow glow illumined the windows and flickered, indicating the fire inside was well tended. The thatched roof hung low to the ground on the sides, and the surrounding trees nearly engulfed the abode.

  Carliss knocked on the door and waited. After a second attempt, she was rewarded with the sounds of the latch being released. The door slowly opened, and a silver-haired woman peered out. She glanced quickly at Carliss and then opened the door wide. She smiled warmly, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepened. Besides Ganoaf, this was the first friendly face they had seen since entering Pembrook.

  “Hello, deary,” the woman said in a gentle voice. “What brings you to our humble hut?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you, madam, but I have a friend who has been injured and is in desperate need of attention.” Carliss stepped aside to reveal Ganoaf holding Dalton.

  “Oh my!” the woman said. “Bring him in, Ganoaf.”

  Carliss followed the woman in and helped Ganoaf get Dalton through the door.

  “How in the kingdom did you get Ganoaf to help you?” the woman said. She leaned close to Carliss. “He’s not really all there, you know.”

  “Ganoaf is the one who told us about you and led us here,” Carliss replied.

  The woman looked at their large assistant as he laid Dalton on a cot in the corner.

  “Really?” she said. “All he’s ever done is sweep the streets and sidewalks of Pembrook. We give him food from time to time, but he’s never really said much to us. However, there was that one time—”

  “Excuse me, madam,” Carliss interrupted. “Are you Tolmew?”

  “Tolmew?” she asked, looking perplexed. “Ah…you mean Petolemew. Good gracious, no,” the woman nearly laughed. “I am Eunice. Petolemew is my husband.”

  Carliss knelt down to Dalton and felt his forehead again. “He is very sick. Is there anything you can do to help him?” Carliss asked. The kindness of the older woman was comforting, but her apparent lack of urgency was frustrating too.

  The old woman came closer and peered at Dalton. “I’m so sorry. I will get Petolemew. He may be able to help.”

  “He’s a doctor then?” Salina asked. “He’s here now?”

  “Not a doctor, my dear. He calls himself an alchemist, although I’m sure I don’t understand the half of what he does. And of course he’s here. He’s always here.” The woman went to the far wall of the hut and opened a small door.

  “Petolemew!” she shouted and then closed the door. “He’ll be here in a moment. What is your name, child?”

  “I am Carliss of Salisburg. This is Salina. Apparently you already know Ganoaf. And this is Dalton.” Carliss took a cloth and wiped more beads of sweat from Dalton’s brow. She began to untie the cloth about his neck.

  “What happened to him?” Eunice asked.

  “He was bitten by—”

  “What do you need, dear?” a reedy voice called out as the back door to the hut opened.

  A white-haired gentleman entered the room and stopped just inside the threshold.

  “Goodness, what have we here?” He gawked at the small room full of people. “Eunice, why didn’t you tell me we had company?”

  “Because they’ve just arrived, dear. This is Carliss, Salina, and Ganoaf.”

  Petolemew greeted each of them with a broad smile and a hearty handshake. “My, you’re a large fellow aren’t you?” he said to Ganoaf.

  Ganoaf smiled and grunted.

  Salinas brow furrowed. “I thought you knew Ganoaf already.”

  Eunice shook her head as if to shush her.

  “Mister Petolemew, this is Sir Dalton,” Carliss escorted him over to the cot. “He’s very sick, and I didn’t know where to go for help. Can you help him?”

  The smile on Petolemew’s face quickly diminished, and he bent over to look more closely. “What happened to him?”

  “He was bitten by a strange lizard. He became delirious almost immediately.”

  “When did this happen?” Petolemew asked.

  “Earlier today… this afternoon.”

  Petolemew finished removing the bandage about Dalton’s neck, revealing the punctures made by the lizard. Petolemew brought his hand to his mouth and shook his head.

  “What is it, dear?” Eunice asked.

  “I’m not certain, but this looks very bad.” Petolemew looked up at Carliss with grave concern on his face. “I’m not sure there’s much I can do. Perhaps if I had the lizard I could—”

  “I do have it!” Carliss exclaimed. She jumped up and ran out the door. Salina followed her to Rindy. She put a hand on Carliss’s shoulder as Carliss untied the sack holding the dead lizard.

  “Carliss…I know you care a lot for Dalton.”

  Carliss paused and turned to look at her friend.

  “What are you trying to say, Salina?”

  “I just… well… Dalton’s not looking good, and I can’t imagine that this old codger c
ould possibly do anything for him. I think we might be wasting time here. Salisburg—”

  “I wish we were in Salisburg too, Salina. But I honestly don’t think Dalton would survive the trip to Salisburg in his condition. Besides, we’re here. Let’s see what Mister Petolemew can do.” Not waiting for a reply, she lugged the bag back into the hut.

  When she entered, Petolemew was sitting at the table drinking from a cup, and Eunice was standing beside him. He looked up at Carliss. “Eunice, we have guests. Why didn’t you tell me we had guests tonight?”

  Carliss stood in the doorway, not quite sure what was happening. She looked at Ganoaf, who had found a broom and was sweeping the hut. Salina stepped up behind Carliss.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  Carliss just slowly shook her head in confusion.

  “Now, Petolemew,” Eunice said as she patted his shoulder. “You’ve already met Carliss and Salina. They’ve come for your help.”

  Petolemew stood and came to them with a broad smile. “I am pleased to meet you. My name is Petolemew.” He turned to Eunice. “I’m certain I would have remembered meeting such lovely young ladies as these.”

  Eunice came and stood beside Petolemew. “I should have mentioned to you that he has some trouble remembering things.”

  “Nonsense, Eunice.” Petolemew leaned forward to Carliss. “She’s older than me and just a wee bit jealous,” he said with a wink.

  Carliss stood dumbfounded. All hope of finding help for Dalton vanished in an instant. She fought back anger and frustration, having absolutely no idea what to do next.

  Eunice grabbed Petolemew’s arm. “Come, dear. Carliss has a friend who needs help.”

  “Really? Where is he?”

  “He’s right over here.” Eunice led Petolemew to the cot again.

  “Gracious, she got him in here in a hurry.” Petolemew knelt down to look at Dalton.

  Eunice waved for Carliss to come, but she wanted to do something entirely uncharacteristic instead—scream. Eunice waved more vigorously, and Carliss went to Dalton.

  “Keep him focused, and he will stay with you,” Eunice whispered to Carliss.

  Petolemew looked at Dalton with serious concern.

  “What happened to him?” he asked as he bent over to look more closely.

  Carliss sighed. “He was bitten by a strange lizard.”

  “When did this happen?” Petolemew asked.

  Carliss hesitated. “Today…this afternoon.”

  Petolemew closely inspected the red, inflamed punctures on Dalton’s neck again. “This is very serious. If I knew what kind of lizard it was, perhaps we could find an antidote.”

  Carliss opened the gunnysack and lifted the dead lizard out by its tail.

  “Oh my!” Petolemew exclaimed. He grabbed the lizard from Carliss and inspected it closely. “I have never seen anything like this in all my studies. This is the lizard that bit your friend?” he asked Carliss without looking up.

  “No,” she replied. “But it is exactly the same kind.”

  “There were two?” This time he looked over at her.

  Carliss had to remind herself that she was talking to a forgetful old man, for at the present he seemed quite in control of his faculties.

  “Yes, there were two. Perhaps more, but I only saw two. We were on a farm just a short distance from Pembrook.”

  Petolemew went back to inspecting the lizard. “This is highly unusual, and I can tell you that this lizard is not indigenous to this region. Was it cornered? Is that why it bit your friend?”

  “No. It attacked both him and me in a barn, unprovoked. It was almost as if it were stalking us.”

  “You don’t say?” Petolemew opened the jaws of the lizard, being careful not to touch its teeth, then closely inspected the antennae with the poisonous barbs. He looked at Dalton’s neck once again.

  Dalton moaned and turned his head from side to side. Carliss knelt down beside him and felt his forehead yet again. Then she noticed he had begun to tremble. She looked at Petolemew, and he pursed his lips together.

  “Eunice, get some cool water.”

  Daltons arms and legs began to shake, and soon the tremors seemed to take over his entire body. Eunice returned with the water, and Petolemew drenched a cloth in it.

  “Here, swab his head with this to cool him down,” he said.

  Carliss took to the task immediately. She became sick with concern as she watched the poison ravage Dalton’s body.

  “Did you notice anything else about the lizard?” Petolemew asked.

  Carliss described the remarkable camouflaging capabilities the lizard possessed. Petolemew scratched his head in wonderment.

  “I’m certain I won’t find anything like this creature in my ordinary books or scrolls.” Petolemew tapped his temple as he thought. “I wouldn’t believe it if it weren’t in my hand. There’s perhaps one place I could find something on this…

  Petolemew rose up and began walking toward the back door of the hut. Carliss swabbed Dalton’s forehead again.

  Eunice nodded toward Petolemew as he walked away from them, and Carliss instantly realized what she must do. She leapt to her feet, threw the cloth to Salina, then followed Petolemew to the door.

  Is he going outside? she wondered. How crazy is this old man?

  Petolemew opened the door, and Carliss followed closely behind him. They entered into another very large room that was part of an addition attached to the hut. They hadn’t seen it from the outside. The thick overgrowth of trees and the diminished light in the forest must have hidden it.

  The room was full of tables with jars, plants, roots, and various powders in neat piles, plus a myriad of odd-looking instruments and tools. Along the far wall were shelves holding thousands of neatly organized books and scrolls. Each shelf was meticulously labeled. In the center of the room was a large table with two scrolls spread out as though they were being carefully studied.

  Petolemew walked toward the table and stopped. He tilted his head to the side.

  “Do you remember what you’re looking for?” Carliss asked.

  Petolemew jerked his head around.

  “Who are you,” he demanded, “and how did you get into my study?”

  Carliss closed her eyes and dropped her head.

  “Oh, it’s all right. Don’t be sad, young lady,” Petolemew said gently. “Whatever you’re looking for, I’ll help you.”

  Carliss looked back up at Petolemew and could hardly speak.

  “Don’t you remember, sir?” she pleaded. “You were looking for information on the lizard.” Carliss pointed to the lizard Petolemew was still holding in his hands.

  Petolemew looked down, yelled, and simultaneously threw the lizard away from him.

  “Good gracious!” he exclaimed. “What is that thing?”

  Carliss went to the table, sat down, and put her head in her hands. She was not the crying type, but this was almost too much. Salina’s family had been captured and was being taken to a castle dungeon. Dalton was dying. And she was at the whim of an old man who couldn’t remember who she was from moment to moment.

  “I believe I’ve seen a creature like this before,” Petolemew said.

  Carliss looked up to see that he had recovered the lizard and laid it on the table across from her.

  “Yes, just a few moments ago,” Carliss said almost sarcastically.

  “Nonsense, young lady,” he replied loftily. “Don’t be ridiculous. No, I’ve seen a picture of this lizard in one of my mythical books.”

  Petolemew crossed over to the shelves with the scrolls and books.

  “I don’t usually waste time studying mythical writings.” Petolemew let out a wheezy laugh. “But since the lizard is lying there, it’s certainly not mythical anymore, is it?”

  He pulled a dusty scroll from the bottom of a pile, examined it, and then put it back. After three more tries, he went to the books on the same shelf and then turned, his countenance gleeful.
>
  “This might help us,” he exclaimed as he held the book up high. He brought it to the table and opened it carefully. “I’ve been collecting ancient writings since I was a boy. These are great treasures of antiquity, young lady.”

  Petolemew turned to a section of the book near the middle and then turned each page until he came to one with a drawing of a lizard next to a strange-looking flower. Carliss came and looked on beside him.

  “There!” Petolemew pointed to the book. He reached for the lizard and laid it out exactly as the picture showed. It was a perfect match. “I would never have believed it if it weren’t lying there on my table.” Petolemew shook his head back and forth. “What we have here, apparently, is an esca lizard. Or dragon, as the old books would call it.”

  Carliss tried to read the description, but the words were unfamiliar to her. Petolemew placed his forefinger beneath the first few words and began to translate out loud.

  “Behold the marsh-dwelling esca dragon, which bears vile poison for the mind. In the wink of an eye it strikes, in the wink of an eye it is gone, and readily it takes the form of that on which it lights. None can capture it. None have killed it. It lurks in shadows and hides from the day. Pity the man who feels its bite or knows its sting, for that man will lose his senses and quiver as a leaf in a storm. Yet fear not the quaking, but rather its end, for the last of his dreams brings death. Nine days will bring visions of delight, but the tenth will be a horrible sight, for on that day the man will of surety die. The swamp lily beneath the morning star will preserve his life, but this remedy grows hard by the dragon’s nest. Though some have tried, all have died. Only one who seeks the light and overcomes will be victorious through the night. Beware the swamps of Moorue and Basillow!”

  Carliss felt her heart sink as Petolemew finished. She stared at the limp form of the esca lizard and despaired. The old alchemist seemed to feel her grief and patted her hand gently.

  “Don’t worry, my dear. I’m sure no one here was bitten by this hideous creature.”

  Carliss looked sadly at Petolemew.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” she said. She tried to smile but couldn’t.