The Beast and The Sibyl

by AJ Adams

  The duke silenced him with a look. “You would have let the Patriarch usurp my authority.”

  “Bliss did say we shouldn’t but, erm, well, the Patriarch said, erm...” Courtney was dying of shame.

  Maybe I should have put the boot in, but I didn’t have the heart. “The Patriarch’s wiles confused the squire,” I informed the duke, “and then he poisoned the people against me.”

  She knows! The witch knows! The Patriarch’s thoughts were screaming through me. It’s not possible! She wasn’t even there!

  I stared at the limp body in the sand, wondering what he was panicking about. And then my mind went flashing back to that day in the village hall.

  Courtney saying, “The Patriarch has been a rock, blessing water for the girls to drink, running special prayers, and ministering personally to them.”

  “He went out in the flood to find us flowers.” Diana pointing to some pretty blue lobelia. “To remind us of the beauty Ullr gives us.”

  “Sweet Lady!” I gasped. “You poisoned them! Theta, Diana and Roseleena!”

  “What do you mean?” the duke frowned. “Who are those people?”

  “The Patriarch accused Bliss of cursing them,” Courtney said quickly, “but Bliss, you say they were poisoned? How?”

  “It was the lobelia. Those sweet little blue flowers are poisonous if you ingest them. The symptoms are diarrhoea, weakness, nausea and vomiting.”

  There was an appalled silence. Then Courtney sighed. “The holy water. The Patriarch made a big production out of giving them drinking water.”

  “Yes. It meant nobody else touched it.”

  “So the girls got sicker and sicker as they drank it, and nobody else had symptoms.”

  “Yes.” I felt fear throttle through me. “Courtney, how are they?”

  “My prayers cured them! Ullr the magnificent blessed them!” The Patriarch was pitching in desperation.

  “They recovered because they ran out of holy water,” Courtney snapped. “You were so busy chasing after Bliss that you forgot all about them!”

  “Thank the Lady!” I was shaking with relief. “Oh, those poor women! What a vicious thing to do!”

  Courtney’s eyes were filled with sorrow. “Bliss, I’m so sorry. I was totally taken in.”

  “It was a devilish plot.” The duke was horrified, too. “He did all that, just to gain the Vale and Salvation?”

  “Well, my lord duke, your family started the same way, didn’t they?” I couldn’t help myself. “Your ancestors built up their possessions by taking power and control.”

  “Unprincipled carrion-eater!” Siv spat.

  The duke went white and then red, but seeing Siv’s disgust and seeing all the Beasts around him equally revolted, he decided silence was the better part of valour.

  “So there you have it,” Rune tidied up all the loose ends neatly. “Bliss knew she had to prevent the Patriarch from killing our brother, or we’d be down in force, meting out our own justice. She might have told you, but your man the squire was of no use, so she worked alone.”

  “And almost paid for it with her life,” Siv growled.

  The duke knew something wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t fault the story. Also, he was standing there with just twenty survivors, outgunned and helpless, facing fifty armed and very annoyed Beasts.

  Caving completely, the duke bowed. “I see I have fallen into error,” he said fluently. “I crave your pardon.”

  We’d made it. Relief flooded through me. It was all going to be okay.

  “You can’t do that!” The Patriarch was trying to struggle to his feet. “They’re Beasts! Savages!”

  “May I?” the duke said politely to Siv.

  Before I could move, Siv’s long knife swept in a short arc.

  The duke wiped the blade clean on the still wet tunic and handed it back. “Beautiful blade,” he complimented him.

  Like I said, nobles have a way of indulging popular priests, but they’re jealous of their power and will deal with any threats with a sword. The Patriarch’s greed had cost him his head.

  The Patriarch’s blood stained the sand a dark ugly crimson. As I struggled not to be sick, I could feel waves of approval coming from the crowd. The Beasts and the duke’s men were all in favour of brutal justice.

  “We will make restitution for our error,” the duke continued smoothly. “As for you, sweet sibyl, you will be the centre of my court.”

  Spots danced before my eyes. In all the fear and emotion, I’d forgotten my vision: the duke’s sibyl was dead, and now he was reaching for another. Me.

  “Not happening!” Siv snapped. “Bliss is mine.”

  “I will reward you well for rescuing the blessed child of the Lady Freyja,” the duke said smoothly.

  My mind was racing. We were back to square one. Siv’s refusal wouldn’t matter. If the duke wanted me, he’d pretend to make a deal, go back and gather that triple force. By the end of it, the Beasts would be slaughtered, and I’d be dead or in the catacombs.

  The duke was smiling, that darkness that I now knew signalled a lust for power and money flowing from him in waves. “Your talents have grown, sweet Bliss. You see much more than storms and lost beasts.” The dark eyes were fixed on mine. “And I believe you have other talents, too?” He’d guessed I was a mind-reader. “You will take your position among the greatest in Prydain.”

  “Over your dead body,” Siv snarled.

  “Is one girl worth an entire colony?” the duke asked.

  “Damn right, she is!” Rune said instantly.

  The Beasts were all over it.

  “Our vala stays right here!”

  “We’ll have your head, Prydain! And she can use it as a cup for her lifvatn!”

  As they yelled at him, I was thinking. The duke looked rich and powerful, but it was purely an illusion.

  “Duke, even if I went with you, your reign would be over.” I spoke calmly, softly, but it shut everyone up.

  “What? Nonsense!” The duke was quick, but I felt his fear.

  “You are still recovering from having your city razed, your Guildsmen daughters taken, and you owe Llanfaes a fortune for their muskets. On top of that, you’ve now lost a battle against a tiny settlement of Beasts. You’re not even properly in control of the Vale, Salvation, or probably your other lands. Seriously, even if the other cities don’t decide to take you out, don’t you think your own people would welcome a new duke?”

  He swallowed nervously. I knew I had him. The duke knew he was an inch away from losing his own head. That’s the problem when you rely on fear for authority. The second you take the wrong step, someone guts you.

  Rune came in, perfectly on cue. “You might go back home with a victory instead.”

  “How?” The duke was as intent as Saga when she spots a nice juicy bone.

  Rune pointed at the vixens. “You take them back.”

  The duke stared. “Girls? I take back a handful of girls?”

  “You bravely went in pursuit of your sibyl, discovered a traitor had set you up, and negotiated a peace treaty with the Beasts.” Rune put it in a nutshell. “To your joy, you discovered we had not killed our hostages. You therefore triumphantly return daughters to your Guildsmen.”

  “All of them?” the duke frowned.

  “Some have chosen to stay,” Rune said smoothly. “They will form the backbone of our new alliance and friendship.”

  “They will?”

  “Yes. You will welcome strongly armed neighbours. Ones who might be persuaded to come and help you, should another city attack you.”

  The duke was seeing the possibilities. “A troop of armed Beasts? Fighting on my side?”

  “Skraeling,” Rune reminded him.

  “An alliance with savages,” the duke wavered.

  “You can have us coming down to raid your coastal villages every few months,” Siv said brutally, “or you can trade with us, nicely and peacefully, and call us your friends.”

 
The duke was seeing his fishing villages in flames. “It’s a deal,” he said quickly.

  “Good.” Rune indicated the vixens. “You promise to take them back home and treat them with honour?”

  “Absolutely,” the duke said promptly. “We won’t blame them for their shame.”

  “What?” Lizbeth was on her feet and yelling, red-faced and furious. “You would blame them?”

  “Silence, girl!” Courtney said shocked.

  “Go lick Wotan’s hairy balls, fat gut!”

  The duke was appalled, “How dare you address your betters in that insolent manner?”

  “Betters?” Lizbeth cried. “You hrafnasueltir! I’ll speak as I find, and you’ll not stop me!”

  “Silence, wench!” The duke yelled. “Have you no shame?”

  “Shame? Why should it be our shame? You cheated, broke a treaty, and then you weren’t even able to protect us! You’re the lily-livered, lying weasel who should be ashamed!”

  Siv was grinning, totally relaxed. “You’d better sit down,” he said to me. “This is going to take some time.”

  “You think?”

  “Oh yeah. Lizbeth can scold for days.” He was laughing, thoroughly enjoying himself. “And when she’s done ripping the squire and the duke new arseholes, Rune will hit them with a treaty that will keep them humble for years.”

  The Beasts were enjoying themselves, too, settling in the sand and watching the escalating row with glee.

  “You Prydain men think you’re so clever, but you’re nothing but lazy, swag-bellied dolts!”

  “Impudent girl! May Ullr hear and punish you!”

  “Is that Freyja’s wand up your aristocratic arse, duke? Or do you have a royal case of piles?”

  Rune sat down, too, and leaned over. “Bliss, are you okay with having the odd consultation with the duke? You won’t go there, of course, unless you want to. But it would be nice if he could come and consult the vala from time to time.”

  “I think I’d be able to manage that.” I watched Turid chatting to the Patriarch’s little thrall. She was blushing, and Turid was fingering her collar, clearly intending to remove it. I didn’t need a vision to know she’d be staying.

  It reminded me of something. “Rune, there’s something else I want. A gift of compensation from the people of Salvation.” I quickly told them about Helga. “The village will make Durwyn free her, and I will gift her my land. She can sell it and go home, or rebuild the house and stay. If she doesn’t like those options, tell her she can come here.”

  “That’s bloody generous,” Wynne said approvingly.

  “That’s my Bliss!” Siv was melting faster than butter on a griddle. “Brave and giving.”

  “She’s too good for you.”

  Luckily Siv was awash in sentimentality. “I know,” he said simply.

  I caught Rune in a rare blink of surprise and grinned. In another ten years, Wynne and Siv might actually get along. Certainly they appeared to be enjoying a momentary truce.

  “This has been an awesome day,” Wynne continued happily, leaning against a panting Saga and stroking the thick fur. “I’ll bet a dozen smoked mackerel to an empty pot that the duke crushes Lizbeth.”

  At the word mackerel Saga looked up and yipped. Siv grinned, and I felt pure wicked glee coming from him. “The wolf and I will take you up on that bet.”

  As they bickered, my vision flickered. The grey skies vanished. Blue skies with wisps of white cloud and brilliant sunshine. Birds were circling overhead, and children ran up and down the sand, laughing as they played.

  In the bay, three longships floated at anchor. I could see knarrs out at sea, filled with laughing Beasts, calling out to each other as they fished.

  I looked behind me and saw the village, tripled in size, with rich-looking cabins dotting the hillside. Our home stood a little aside, looking broader and with two chimneys. A wolf lounged on the veranda guarding a crib, while two fat-looking wildcats played with a toddler.

  “Bliss?” The vision flickered and vanished. Siv was gazing at me, looking slightly anxious. “You had a vision?”

  I kissed the dear mouth, feeling the strong arms around me and the love flowing over me, sweet as honey. “It’s just as you dreamed, Siv. Children, peace, and prosperity. We’ve made it.”

  The pale eyes were smiling. “Good, let’s live happily ever after.”

  And then he kissed me.

  Epilogue: Siv

  The leaves are falling, and the nights are drawing in. I don’t mind. Even the coldest Prydain weather is warm to me, and we’ve enough wood and food to get through the winter months. The commons shed was so full that we built a second one. We’ve so much that all of us have a little larder now, purely for convenience.

  I check ours out of habit, but also because seeing pots and bags of stores gives me a safe, happy feeling of comfort.

  “Siv, can you bring me a pot of jellied eels?”

  Bliss either has ears on strings, or her visions are powering up again. She seems to know where I am and what I’m doing, sometimes before I know.

  “Sure. On my way.”

  My good woman is sitting in a rocking chair, looking round and rosy. She’s the size of a commons shed because she’s filled with treasure. That’s our little joke. I’m laughing all the time now. Life is just one long perfect day after another.

  “Sweet Lady! Siv, I have such a craving for eels! It’s ridiculous!” I love to see her this way, opening the jar and relishing the scent. It’s little joys that add up to perfection. “I hope this baby isn’t born with gills!”

  I’m having my little joy, stroking the long silky hair, pale as snow. “I don’t see why. Astrid turned out okay, and you ate nothing but crabs for weeks.”

  “True.” Bliss’ giggles ring out all the time. “Saga has a thing for carrots, of all things! She’s eaten four already today, and Brant came to tell me he found her in his garden, stealthily looking for leftover roots.”

  “I wondered why she came skulking in the back door. Bygul and Trigul are in disgrace, too. Wynne says they stowed away on Rune’s boat today. He didn’t realise until he netted some mackerel. They hid in the bow and popped up the second he got the fish on board.”

  “The girls do love their mackerel, and they know Rune’s got a gift for finding them.”

  Everyone has taken to the girls in a big way. The cats live entirely in the village, preferring to beg rather than hunt, the lazy things. Saga goes out into the forest, but for her own reasons.

  Yes, there’s the howl.

  “Wulfhroc’s here,” Bliss is patting Saga. “See you in the morning, love. Say hello to that handsome man-wolf of yours.”

  I wasn’t keen when he first arrived, but it’s worked out fine. He keeps his distance from us, except for when I offer him a fish for his supper, and he’s devoted to Saga, visiting her every night, regular as a Volgard clock. It’s his cubs she’s carrying.

  “We’d better make a small cabin in the back. Wolf family-sized.” Bliss is staring into the fire with a shimmering look I know so well. “Wolfhroc wants to settle down.”

  “The more, the merrier.”

  You know, thinking about it, having Wolfhroc here might be a good thing. Saga is soft and loving, but she’s protective of Bliss, and she’ll take down anyone who threatens the kids. Last summer she killed an adder that was daft enough to approach Astrid.

  I’m thinking that the Prydain have dogs, so maybe we Skraeling should have wolves as our companions. They’re strong, brave, and loyal, just like us. Yes, it’s a great idea. If Wulfhroc wants to move in, I’m all for it.

  Bliss can read me a mile away. “Wolves are family-minded, too, like the Prydain.”

  That’s something else that’s changed. It took some doing, but when we began calling the girls our sisters, we also changed the way we talked of the Prydain. We focus on our differences but in a positive way, like the fact that they are family-minded rather than tribal like Skraeling.

 
It’s not perfect, but it means we’re getting along much better. Of course, the babies help, too. Kids bring everyone together. We’re a true community now.

  As for the duke, he’s kept to his word. We trade every two months or so, and both sides have refrained from slaughtering each other. Bliss says that’s a win, and I agree. Don’t get me wrong: I still don’t trust them, but while the peace treaty is holding, we can live as neighbours.

  As it turns out, some of the Prydain actually prefer living with us than with their own. After all that trouble we had with the vixens, a girl could have knocked me over with a feather when Rose and Petronella returned six months after leaving us.

  “Prydain men are spoilt, arrogant, and lazy,” Rose announced.

  As if we didn’t know, right? But anyway, they decided they’d had enough of Brighthelme, and so they came back.

  I thought it might be a problem, but it was fine. They brought back a load of seeds and set about making a superb herb and vegetable garden. Success sweetened them, and now Rose is mated with Olav, and Petronella is with Sigi.

  All of us brothers have women now. Turid ended up with Meadow, the Patriarch’s thrall. That was no surprise. She fell for him the second she set eyes on him. The other bachelor brothers went to Haven and bought thralls. That was an adventure by itself, but it worked out all right. Eventually. But that’s another story.

  Helga, Durwyn’s thrall, went back to Volgard. Bliss had a dream about her finding her old love, so that’s good. We also heard that Courtney, that gullible, fat gut squire, repaired the shrine and invited the Sisters back. The villagers missed Bliss, and the Lady’s sensible daughters will help keep religious maniacs like the Patriarch at bay.

  The duke had his ups and downs. He ended up on top, and by the sounds of things, he’ll stay there. He’s a greedy, unprincipled hrafnasueltir if you ask me, but I guess he’s perfect for ruling the cesspit of cheats and liars who live in Brighthelme.

  And that’s about it, I guess. All in all, we’ve been lucky. The storm that swept me south took me straight to Bliss, saving my life and my sanity.

  “Mummy, Daddy’s getting soppy again.” Astrid, her eyes a copy of her mother’s, is on her feet and gazing at me.