Lesser Prince (Guardians of Gaeland Book 1)

by Jamie McFarlane

  The boots were styled much differently than those Marmy had provided. Instead of stopping just over her ankle, these reached above her calf. The leather was tanned to a shiny dark brown and had long laces through the many eyelets.

  Amber pulled them on and laced them up, saying, “These are so comfortable.”

  “I oiled them up good before I put them away. My real prize however is this. I remembered there was a map in the same place we found the boots. The language appears to be Dwarven, not that any of us here have any use for a Dwarven map. But as far as I can tell, it is accurate. I’m sure no one would care if you had it.” Raien handed Sam a cylinder made from bone that was roughly ten inches long and three quarters of an inch in diameter. The plain cylinder was stoppered on both ends with simple corks.

  Sam took the bone case in his hands and turned it over, inspecting it carefully. He breathed, “Wow, cool,” more to himself than to Raien, although she clearly took pleasure in his reaction. Sam tugged the cork from one end and pulled the map from its case. He carefully rolled it out on top of the seat of an unoccupied chair.

  Raien drew a Faerie-Globe from a nearby box and asked it to light up the map and the four of them inspected it. Sure enough, the words were impossible to understand. Tig’s eye caught something and exclaimed, “Hey that’s my name. It says Parnassus.”

  “Where?” Amber asked.

  “There! See that lake and the drawing of a castle?” Tig’s finger pointed just to the left of the center of the small map.

  “You’re right, it does say Parnassus." Sam looked closer at the map. "That’s kinda freaky, don’t you think? Although when you think about it ‘New York’ is spelled ‘New York’ even if it's written in German. So it follows that Parnassus is Parnassus in Dwarf.

  “Where is it? I don’t see it.” Amber’s body was enough behind Sam’s that his head blocked her view.

  Sam put his finger on the map and pulled his head out of the way so that Amber could see more clearly. As he did, the entire map surface changed to show a picture of a castle they all recognized. The only difference was that this castle was set against a forest and there was no mountain rising immediately behind it.

  “Sam, that’s the Parnassus Castle at Helicon.” Amber’s voice was surprised.

  “That’s neat, did you see how the map changed when I poked it?” he exclaimed.

  “No! Sam, look at the picture! It’s Parnassus Castle.”

  Raien interjected, “Of course that’s Parnassus Castle. What were you expecting, Blackhall Village? Like I said, it is all in Dwarven and from what I can tell the mapmaker was good but not spectacular. See how the flags aren’t even waving in the breeze? And you can’t see inside the castle on this one.”

  Sam removed his finger from the map and the picture of Parnassus Castle remained.

  “Are you saying that castle is in Gaeland?” Tig asked, trying to calm his voice.

  “No, silly, that castle is on the moon! Yes, it’s in Gaeland. Where else would it be?” Raien looked at him quizzically.

  The map reverted to its original geographic elements. Sam exclaimed, “Hah! There it is. Amber look. Something about Elendahl.”

  “Where?” Amber responded, pushing in next to Sam.

  “Right there.” Sam waited until Amber was better situated and he made a big show of pushing his finger into the map below and to the left of where the Parnassus Castle was depicted. The map changed again and this time showed an expansive log structure with several barns in a nearby meadow. Several hundred yards behind the buildings appeared to be the boundary of a forest. In the foreground were a dozen or more horses of various breeds.

  “It almost looks like the equestrian center at Helicon.” Amber offered, “And those horses, they’re beautiful.”

  Sam looked to Raien, “Are you sure I can have this? It seems valuable.”

  She laughed, “All yours, my friend. You have to understand, we are all from Gaeland and have visited these places. No one in our village would give it a second look.”

  “Where are we on the map?” Tig asked. The map had converted back, showing all of Gaeland again.

  She pointed to a small white circle almost directly in the middle of the map. “The Glade isn’t on this map, so it’s either a very, very old map, or the mapmaker had never occasioned here.”

  “This is the coolest map ever! Thank you.” Sam stood up and hugged a surprised Raien.

  She smiled and said, “Aww, I'm glad you find it useful …” Sam let go and turned his attention back to the map.

  “Well, I have much to do, there is never a shortage of work. Please visit me often.” She disappeared back into the shelves and they heard the noise of her rummaging through boxes and moving items around.

  Sam rolled the map up and placed it back into its bone case and stuffed it into the belt that was wrapped around his waist. The three of them left the building and found it considerably easier to get back to Marmy’s this time, since many trees and their associated structures were starting to become familiar. They pushed through the door into the kitchen level, this time without knocking. Bread was baking, but they didn't see Marmy.

  “Marmy wanted us to feed the chickens and goats. It's probably getting late for them, so we better get on it,” Tig suggested.

  They descended to the bunk level and not finding Marmy, went down to the Hospice to find three elves lying on the tables where Tig and Amber had received treatment the night before. Marmy and her assistant, Jeatre, were both tending to Tempra, who lay unconscious, with deep gashes all over her body.

  Marmy noticed them enter. “Oh, dears, please go back up. We’re quite in the middle of it,” she said over her shoulder.

  Sam hurried up the ladder but Amber and Tig stayed put. “I can help, Marmy,” Tig said.

  “Not now, Tig. I am sorry to be insistent, but please go back upstairs.”

  Tig desperately wanted to obey her, especially since he wasn't absolutely sure that he could help. But the damage done to Tempra was severe and he doubted that she would survive. He pulled off his cloak and gloves and dropped them on the ground, knowing that no explanation would suffice. He would have to be assertive, and it was something he didn’t excel at. Tig clenched his fists at his side, strode forward and stood at end of the table where Tempra’s head was.

  “Tig, what are you doing, please don’t …” Marmy’s voice was panicked.

  Tig ignored her request and pushed his way between Jeatre and Marmy, placing his hands on the deep wounds on Tempra’s head. He closed his eyes and blotted out the distraction of Marmy’s pleadings.

  After a couple of moments, the familiar peaceful feeling returned. He could see the wound through his mind’s eye as he had with Laux and Amber. This time he saw a blackness that looked like an infection surrounding the wound, and spreading into the tissue. He concentrated and the infection tried to resist him. He fought to control and encompass it. It didn’t need to be healed, it needed to be removed. Tig focused on the blackness and attempted to push it from Tempra’s wound. Finally, he saw the blackness relent and flee, dripping out the side of the gash.

  The head wound was mostly healed, but Tig still felt a sense of urgency. Something called out to him, giving him no choice but to search deeper. Another wound, the black infection insidiously growing in Tempra’s weakened body. Tig bore down and grappled with it. His previous success buoyed him and he chased the infection from her body. Peace returned. Her wounds would close now and she would recover.

  Tig opened his eyes to find Marmy and Jeatre staring at him from several paces away. Elves on the other tables had risen to their elbows. They were also staring at him with their mouths agape.

  “I'm sorry, Marmy. I didn’t know how to explain.” Tig said to the matronly elf.

  “Sorry? Oh, my dear, you should have told me you are a wizard. I would have sent for you right away!” Marmy stepped forward and hugged him tightly. “You saved her, Tig. We were losing her and you saved her.”
/>   Marmy released Tig, “What of the others?” He nodded at the two still on their elbows.

  “Yes, you are right. Please, if you are strong enough?” Marmy and Tig moved over to the next elf, the atmosphere in the room lightening with Marmy’s cheerful humming. After working together for an hour, exhaustion finally overtook Tig’s body. He couldn’t have been happier, though, and was flying high with a great feeling of accomplishment.

  Once the two had done what could be done to heal the elves, realization struck Marmy, “Wait ... Amber’s legs! You healed them. I've not lost my mind! You removed the Bite of Winter!” Her look of surprise was almost comical. Tig just smiled in response.

  Marmy energetically waved her hands at the beds that held Tempra’s recovering party and they floated up into the ceiling, just as Amber had the night before.

  “Your arm,” she said, turning back to Tig. He gave her a blank stare so she filled in further. “You should remove the demon poison from your arm.”

  Tig wished he’d been alert enough to have thought of it himself. The wound had been bothering him and he mentally kicked himself for not having tried already. Marmy removed the wrapping and he placed his hand on the wound. Marmy wrapped her hands around his own. Tig closed his eyes and struggled to focus. He was weary and the thought of examining his own arm was distracting.

  He felt Marmy’s hands, warm on his own. The older woman’s magic restored his strength and for a moment their wills were connected. He felt her kind spirit pushing magic into his wound and helping Tig to focus. The oily substance that he’d come to associate with demon poison had snaked around the muscles in his arm. With Marmy’s help, he extracted the foul substance, draining it onto the floor where it hissed on contact.

  “Thank you, Marmy.”

  “You’ll get there, love, you just need to learn to slow down and clear your mind. That will come with practice. You should rest until dinner.”

  “We came down to feed the chickens and goats. And I have it on good authority that they don’t feed themselves … even in an elven town.”

  “Quite right you are,” Marmy answered, “but you’ve done enough for today.”

  Tig replied, “I know it sounds silly, but I miss my goats and was kind of looking forward to it.”

  Marmy chuckled. “Spoken like a farmer. You really can’t get the little buggers out of your head once you’ve had them. They're down the tree and twenty paces toward the forest. You can’t miss them.”

  Amber, who had taken a chair and watched all that transpired, climbed halfway up the ladder and stuck her head into the bunk area. Sam was staring intently at the map and she smiled. “Hold on Tig. I’ll help you. I think we've lost Sam to that map of his.”

  They exited the hospice and went down the wooden ramp leading to the forest floor. The ground felt oddly stationary once they stepped out of the trees. In a very short time, they had become used to the sway of the trees.

  The goats were easy to find and Tig set about cleaning their pen. It struck him as funny that this world was so different from home in almost every way, except at the most basic level. Cleaning up after goats was about the only comforting constant to be found. He made quick work of it, put out some feed and then moved on to the chickens. Amber followed and helped where she could.

  “That really was something to see, Tig,” Amber offered. “Your hands glowed so brightly while you worked on those poisoned wounds, it was hard to make out your fingers. It was much more intense than last night when you healed my legs. What would they have done without you?”

  A Hard Decision

  Tig’s stomach growled loudly as they sat down for the evening meal. Marmy was a flurry of activity as people filed in. The group was quieter than at breakfast. Tig marveled at the baskets, plates and platters bobbing precariously through the air on Marny’s sure hands, somehow coming to rest securely in the middle of the table.

  Finally, the table was filled with steaming dishes of mostly unrecognizable foods and Marmy joined the group. All of the same people they had shared breakfast with were there with the notable exception of Tempra.

  After several minutes of eating, Marmy broke in, “Tig, how long have you known you’re a wizard?”

  Tig, who had a full mouthful of something that tasted like creamed spinach, coughed as he tried to answer. “I’m not sure what you mean. I don’t think I am a wizard.”

  Marmy raised an eyebrow at his reply. “You weren’t raised as a wizard?”

  “No.”

  Marmy considered this for a while and finally replied, “It takes a true wizard’s touch to heal as you have. The timing couldn’t have been more critical for us. Tempra owes you her life.”

  ***

  Tig awoke to a gentle shake and as his eyes focused on Marmy’s weathered face, he saw a long finger raised to her lips to keep him from speaking. Marmy walked toward the center of the bunk room, beckoning Tig to follow her.

  When he entered the hospice, he saw four badly wounded elves lying on the tables. The night-guard Keena was on one and Captain Drenaux on another. There were two other elves that Tig thought he’d seen around the small town. Neither Keena nor Captain Drenaux were conscious and both bore deep gashes over much of their bodies.

  Marmy spoke first, “I tried to stabilize the Captain, but it looks grave and Keena is also beyond my ability. Their wounds are much worse than Tempra’s.”

  Tig moved to Captain Drenaux’s side and peeled back the tightly wrapped bandages from around his neck. Blood poured from the wounds and Tig covered them with his hands. He concentrated on the broken flesh and knit the upper layers back together. Fear crept into his mind as he saw that the deep tissue beneath the freshly healed wound was very nearly all blackened. He knew it couldn't be left alone and reached out to heal the infection. Tig found that as he pulled small pieces of the infection away, the surrounding blackness re-infected the area he had just cleaned. He worked faster and faster until finally, he seemed to be making progress.

  Tig worked for a considerable time and finally removed all the infection. Still, something wasn’t right. The flesh didn't return to its normal color, but instead looked gray. He reached out to it and found that the flesh was now lifeless. Panic gripped Tig as he tried to revive it, but to no avail.

  “Marmy! Help me!” Tig cried in anguish as he pulled away from Drenaux’s body, the room coming back into focus.

  Marmy laid her hands on the wound and closed her eyes, only to open them a few moments later. Her eyes were filled with tears. “Oh my dear, we were too late to save him. You removed the infection, but it had already done its evil work. Captain Drenaux has passed.”

  Marmy placed her hand on Tig’s shoulder and then embraced him. “It is not your fault, Tigerious. You gave it your best. Unfortunately, we must now focus on the living. Keena and the others are also in danger.”

  Tig tried to focus through the tears flooding down his face, but found it very difficult. He reached up with his sleeves and dabbed at his eyes, staring at Drenaux’s still body. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole somewhere and disappear. What good was Faerie if he couldn’t save someone like Drenaux, he thought bitterly?

  Marmy gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Not now Tigerious. We have to save the living. Captain Drenaux would want it that way.” Tig stood still for a couple moments, not wanting to leave Drenaux, but finally recognized the truth of Marmy’s words. He forced his eyes to Keena.

  Tig removed a wrapping around her thigh. She’d been deeply slashed by a long blade. With the pressure of the bandages no longer in place, the wound filled with blood. Tig reached for the wound and stared as the blood oozed up through his fingers, covering his hands. Tig pushed his hands harder onto the wound, eliciting a small moan of pain from Keena. All Tig could see in his mind, however, was the dead Captain.

  “You must focus on Keena, Tig. Let go of Captain Drenaux.” Marmy’s voice was tight with urgency.

  Tig knew she was right, but he couldn’
t shake it off. He had failed and a man had died. He wasn’t sure he could live with that again. He had no business with his hands on this woman’s wounds. How could he know he wouldn’t allow her to die as well? Tig turned toward Marmy with an anguished look.

  Tig heard a new voice. Amber spoke calmly and softly. “Tig, you must believe in yourself. Keena needs you. We need you.”

  The sound of Amber’s voice washed over him like a cool breeze. Her confidence buoyed and strengthened him. Tig closed his eyes and found the focus he needed. Keena had lost a great deal of blood and Tig searched and found the artery that had been severed. It had been cleanly cut and took quite a lot of coaxing to come back together for repair. He was thrilled to see the blood stop seeping into the wound and flow correctly through the leg.

  Tig searched and found the black infection in Keena’s wounds as well, although not as prevalent as had been with Drenaux. He worked fiercely and felt great relief when he was able to completely free Keena from its grip. Unlike his other patients, however, Keena’s wounds were both too deep and had been left too long to completely disappear. She would have substantial scars across her body and Tig wondered if she would limp as the gash in her leg had cut deeply into the bone.

  Tig looked up at Marmy. Morning light was filtering in through the windows. Instinctively, he moved to the other two elves. Jeatre had done a good job of cleaning and bandaging the wounds. Tig ran his hands across the bandages and found no infection. Marmy had already closed the wounds expertly and done what she could to minimize the scaring. Both elves would recover.

  Amber and Marmy led Tig to a chair and helped him sit.

  “You have again saved a life, Tig. We are in your debt.” The tightness in Marmy’s voice was no longer evident.

  Tig didn’t know what to say. He was glad that Keena would be okay, but the death of Captain Drenaux weighed heavily on him. Exhaustion and sadness threatened to overtake him.