Clash after clash, sparks took to the air in dispute, and the boy held his own quite remarkably. Not only did he battle well, he also fought with elegance. He flurried his weapon in a shimmering emerald haze and, with blinding skill, parried Redmun’s strikes. Redmun otherwise utilized his fists at every opportunity he saw. Sometimes he hit clean; other times, he scarcely missed, bringing William to strike back with a counterattack of his own.
From above, the skies growled at the conflict below. Eyes watched from the shadows as the wind grew all the more furious. William burst forth with a multiplicity of blows. Hook, slash, knee and stab! Still the man was too deft. In turn, he lashed out at William with a slicing hook of his own, only to have the boy lean dexterously from its path. But upon his recovery, William did not see the blade following in Redmun’s other hand. And as it followed through, it barely nicked William’s ear, forcing him into a bungling spill. Without hesitation, Redmun drew back his foot and launched it remorselessly into William’s gut! Once! Twice! Three times and more!
“WHAT ARE YOU...DOING?!” William cried, covering his head. “THIS IS...ONLY SUPPOSED...TO...BE TRAINING!”
Taking nothing from his plea, Redmun kept driving his boot into William’s belly.
“Do you think your enemies will care for your wellbeing, boy? Well?!” growled he, as he continued to attack. “Do you think they will have mercy on you if you cry out? Taste the anger inside you! Use it, boy! Or did your witless mother give birth to a lost hope?”
Suddenly...it happened. A nerve was clasped and twisted just too far, and Blackhead came straight into William’s mind.
With his shock having elevated to a fervent rage through a dangerous fusion of adrenaline and anger, he cried out with a painful scream, “DON’T YOU EVER TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER!”
Before Redmun could deliver another blow, William had already grabbed him by the leg and, with a strange darkness in his eyes, he flung him back onto the ground like he was nothing. That momentary burst of strength was none other than absolutely formidable. Certainly beyond William’s typical boundaries of strength.
With the drool hanging from his mouth like some wild animal, William scrambled to his feet and pounced on top of his enemy while he was down. The image of the child which Redmun once knew was no longer evident in this being who was now being fuelled by the blazing coals of such a passionate rage. Relentlessly, like a tortured beast that had just been set loose upon its cruel master, William pounded his fists into Redmun’s face, screaming violently with every blow. Again and again, he pummelled, in his fit of fiery fury, thrusting the man’s bloodied face from side to side with each fuming strike. Damp sounds, as of a mallet pounding raw flesh, echoed within the trees around them. It was as though nature itself was personifying the very intensity of William’s emotions, with the thunder exploding like the oceans themselves caught within a mighty feud of ancient, rivalling storms, and birds scattered from the jungle below as streaks of lightning drove themselves into the trees, bolt after blinding bolt.
Eventually, William grew weary, being able to do little more than slap lazily onto Redmun’s already mauled face. After hearing the commotion from the nearby cabin, Icrick, Khrum, Wren, Pew and Crosco came rushing onto the outcrop. Ceasing suddenly in their approach, with countenances wrought from shock, they spotted William kneeling limply over Redmun. He was swaying to and fro, blankly, as though intoxicated from a concoction of heartache and terror. Both adversaries were covered in filth, gashes, and swellings. Nor scarcely could they recognise William’s face through the crimson mask of glistening blood which now trickled freely from his gaping wounds.
Hastily, Wren ran to him and dragged him off. She was so concerned for him, heedless of which, he remained in his state; emotionally paralyzed after what had just occurred.
“What happened here?!” she implored, to no avail. “William! What happened? Are you okay?”
It was useless. He was mute.
With his limbs hanging lifelessly, Wren dragged him to a nearby rock, where she gently rested him against it and went about cleaning the blood from his eyes with her sleeve. Just then, a boorish magpie swooped down beside them and began cackling and squawking at him, like it was mocking William in his despair. Feeling threatened and alone, William drew his legs in to his chest, and with his head down, hugged his knees. The magpie was clearly taking an ill-effect on him, so Wren threw out a swift kick and it wasn’t long flapping away.
As she attended to her wilted companion, The Body knelt beside Redmun and carefully lifted his weary head into his hand. He was not dead, but he’d been badly beaten.
Strong enough to turn his face to William, Redmun then uttered sluggishly, “That’s just the kind of...emotion you will need to face the...evil of the world, boy. No matter which world it may be. And...even then, combat is but a part of the entire challenge.”
A dribble of blood trickled from Redmun’s lips and, as he spoke to him, William barely lifted his face to listen. He just sat there, clenching his knees, with his face low in shadow.
“Worse still is the darkness...within all of us which we must also confront,” said the man. “Darkness which feeds upon our hopes, only to excrete...fear, and our belief is the only weapon we can possess to confront....such terror and...doubt. If you cannot stay strong against these fears, and believe in yourself, then you will fall to them; resulting in a light of...vulnerability and, unfortunately, cowardice among others. Pathways to both submission and pain, where you will be beaten down and taken for granted. You...will be considered weak, even by those who are too feeble themselves to face responsibility. Acknowledging how such...craven actions will make them feel stronger, these monsters will...continue to belittle you and hurt you in every conceivable way, leaving...you as but a frail shadow of that which you could’ve been. On the contrary, if...you can show these...trepidations and wretches how strong you can be; how you yourself can, in turn...fuel your strength from whatever attacks they...decide to launch at you...then you will endure! Face what you dread the most, boy, and you will not only...overcome it...but you will also be able to confront...anything! At first, such a task is...not easily done. It can seem overwhelming. But I know you can do this! That ultimate power will prevail inside of you yet, if you choose for it to be so...and I see that potential...inside of you, lad.”
Escaping from the refuge of William’s shadowed face, a single tear dropped.
“I only hope you...can understand why I took this lesson so far,” Redmun continued on. “I can but pray that it has...conditioned you as well as I’d intended. Nor can I apologise for teaching you, in such extreme ways, to understand your promise...given how I believe that the toughest experiences often impart the most valuable lessons. Besides...cuts and bruises shall heal over time, and you must...understand that my attack upon you has...injured me...more deeply than any wound of yours. Yes, whatever of this conflict was a necessity in my eyes, I fear it will be one tribulation that’ll haunt me to the end of my days.”
Halting in his counsel, Redmun turned his ear to William, but heard nothing. And yet he was listening.
Dejectedly, the man concluded, “Alas, any...act of conflict that may come upon you from this moment henceforth, lad, should be of no...surprise; no challenge. Because, now that you have...traded blows with an ally, you should have...attained nerve enough to strike down any foe with no hesitation whatsoever, and it pleases me to see that you had this fight in you. It...shows me that you can survive, alone, out there in...the world. Most importantly, now...you know you can be strong when you need to be, and it is...only then for you to decide when you wish to be completely unstoppable.”
Although William remained silent, he could not deny how Redmun’s words held, in their tone, a true sense of commiseration. He also sounded the most sincere since William had known him, and he truly did seem repentant for his recent actions; though he deeply believed the extremities of that lesson essential for William’s survival, what with the later dangers throug
hout Lythiann.
“Dullahan...help me to my feet,” Redmun requested, draping his arm slothfully about Crosco’s shoulder.
As The Body helped him upright, Redmun became suddenly aware of the tepid clamminess of another’s blood upon his fist, which he then wiped off his apparel. For a moment he stood there, with a distant expression on his face as he fingered his blotted garment, as if he was pondering something. Something of a deep and significant interest.
Stowing away his wonder, he turned to the lad and said, “I have done all I can for you, boy. You are as ready...now as you will ever be. When you wish it, you can...be on your way. And, again, I hope you can forgive me. Or, at least, I hope you can understand.”
Using Crosco for support, he staggered back through the forest opening while the once-roaring winds faded calmly back into but a breeze, returning the nightly hours to the manner of serenity which had always been.
“Are you all right, William?” the Grogoch asked gently.
With a silent response, Icrick sighed and, with much tenderness, added, “I suppose this answers our question about her counsel then. Turns out his intentions were good after all, but they came at a price...these bruises. She didn’t want to see you get hurt. I am so sorry this happened to you, William. But...to be optimistic about it...you just bested a man who bested a hundred beasts and two monstrous creatures! I hate to admit it, William, but perhaps this was a lesson well learnt.”
Appreciative of Icrick’s attempt to console him, but not quite in the mood to make peace with his wounds just yet, William merely nodded and withdrew from their company. Through the jungle he then staggered, pondering all that had taken place that evening.
Two days had passed since the battle on the cliff, and since then, neither William nor Redmun had crossed paths. On a positive note, the lad’s wounds were healing quite quickly, and most of the swelling had gone down too, after being attentively treated by Wren, under William’s typical protest, don’t you know. Those failing wounds gave the grisly impression that he’d recently been through hell and back.
As the third morning meandered into afternoon, William finally took it upon himself to wander up to the cabin alone. Meanwhile, with their bags packed and ready, the others remained out in the glade, awaiting his return.
Standing before the door with slight hesitancy, he eventually gathered the courage to knock. You can hardly blame him, considering how testing it must’ve been to face Redmun again after their last, rather pugnacious engagement. With the sound of steps approaching from within, the door creaked open. William wasn’t quite sure what to expect.
When Redmun stepped into the light, he wasn’t so conscious about his own bruises anymore, what with him looking just as bad, if not worse. And yet through the very despair, which was undoubtedly fenced behind each graze and contusion, Redmun managed to summon a quiet smile. He was also holding that same bloodied garment he wore that same notorious night. But given his visitor, he placed it upon the stand inside the doorway and came out to meet him.
“So...is it that time?” asked he.
“Yes, well, I think it’s best we set out again,” William said courteously. “We’ve all our things ready, so I just wanted to say goodbye before we leave.”
Sensing his awkwardness, Redmun replied, “Well...I...I wish you luck then.”
He grew somewhat tense in turn. Yet not on either part could it be helped, for they’d been through so much together. They had both learnt a great deal from one another, and they’d even come to blows. It’s quite natural for one to feel uncomfortable, considering.
“I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. For us!” William eventually said. “As for that lesson on the cliff...I know now why you did what you did. There’s a saying back home. ‘What doesn’t kill you...”
“...only makes a man stronger?” Redmun concluded.
“Yeah, that’s right!” William nodded, pleasantly surprised.
“That truth is universal, lad...”
Showing a grin, William said, as if to suggest a truce, “Um...so you said you’d join us. Fight by our side and that?”
“And so I did!” said the man, with a smile.
William’s gesture of making peace had delivered him such freshness that the spurs of guilt felt as if they had the promise to wither and, perhaps, eventually diminish over time.
Kneeling before him, he so uttered, “Once the twins fall, I’ll be right there with you, boy. That I promise you!”
“But...when will that be?”
“Soon enough.” Redmun nodded. “Watch for it! In the meantime, I have dealings here that require my utmost attention. They cannot go by unchallenged, I’m afraid.”
As he explained this, his attention flicked back to the garment, though he didn’t let on.
“But what if I find the Wrythus before you find us? Who’ll teach me?” William asked, a little flustered.
“Fear not,” answered the man. “If the Wrythus comes, and you should hear the music, you will have a fairly good idea of what to do...believe me! Which reminds me...”
Going back inside, he returned with a most bizarre-looking leather case, poking out of which was the horn of the Symphogram.
“You cannot do without this!” said he. “I fixed Mitzel’s straps to it so it can be carried by a Dwarf...or a Grogoch. Now, let’s hope you hear its music sooner rather than later!”
Showing much grace, William took the Symphogram and gazed upon it with notions of both question and wonder.
Kneeling again, Redmun spoke sternly these words, “I cannot tell you what to do, lad, but I wish to advise you on something. Should I not see you by the time you reach the old eastern barrows, you must know that the ruins of Nùra are somewhere around those parts. The home of Vahna Webble. Be warned, they have tendencies to lure in passersby against their will, so as to torment them with vile fortunes. I merely warn you...that place is trouble.”
“Okay, I understand,” said William. “Thank you again, Redmun...for everything.”
“The honour was all mine, lad!”
Thus, any unfavourable feelings which may have once been between them had now completely washed away. Just then, a loud ruckus came from the end of the terrace, just by the pantry door. A massive tower of pots came tumbling around the corner. But, once William spotted the culprit, the rest was self-explanatory.
Pew had been rapping on a tower of kitchenware, when the whole lot came tumbling down with a crash. Around the corner the fellow bolted, with a landslide of pans and dishes rumbling after him. Of course he evaded the peril, and when he spotted William nearby, the Poppum leapt up into his arms and gave him an almighty cuddle. He was an affectionate little thing, so he was.
“Hey, Pew!” William said and laughed, as the Poppum kept trying to lap at his chin. “We have to go now. But hopefully I’ll see you again soon!”
Suddenly, having been unaware of William’s intent to leave, the Poppum gazed tragically into his eyes.
For a moment, the little critter had hoped it wasn’t true, if not for the candour in William’s eyes telling him differently.
“Aw, I’m sorry, Pew. But we have things we need to do. There are people out there who are in trouble. And I think that, maybe, we might be able to help them. I wish we could stay, I really do! But we can’t. I’m so sorry.”
Alas, grasping the unlikelihood of any reconsideration, Pew embraced William one last time with a hug of such warmth that it almost made the boy melt. Yes, poor William was utterly heartbroken in that mournful moment, at how Pew’s fluffy little body quivered at the thought of his dear friends deserting him, while his cheerful squeaking was now but a lonely mutter of the pain he was left to suffer.
Such guilt William felt! Granted he could not but be slightly relieved by the assurance of the Poppum’s absolute safety within the great confines of Làn Chùrdal. It really was for his own good.
“Take care, Pew,” he whispered. “I’ll miss you.”
C
limbing sadly from William’s arms, Pew wandered into the scrub and glanced back in a way that was heartrending to see. With his ears as downcast as his mood, he ambled off into the trees so as to say his goodbyes to the others, too.
“Go easy on those butterflies...and the rocks, too!” William called after him, but the Poppum just kept on walking.
“He’ll be fine, lad,” said Redmun. “I’ll take good care of him.”
“I know,” William replied, as he watched the lonely Poppum stroll away. “I just hope I get to see him again...sometime. When this is all over, perhaps.”
“Indeed you may.” Redmun smiled. “Now, you’d best get a move on and cover some decent ground before nightfall. Those midlands are not as forgiving as the country bygone. And the eventuality of the eclipse still remains a threat, regardless of how distant it may seem.”
“I understand. Goodbye, Redmun. I’ll see you when the twins fall...whatever that means.”
“When that occurs, lad, we shall both understand its import,” the man replied consolingly. “Now, stay focused, keep your guard...and Godspeed!”
Taking his leave, William rejoined his band, and they departed from the glade.
Because he was wise to the jungle by then, he took it as his duty to lead the others out. Wren, instead, found her own way back to Lythiann by means of her dragon, who had flown in hours earlier to check up on her.
William and the others were soon on the raft and sailing their way gently upstream. The Grogoch, you should know, was made leave his own backpack behind in order for him to carry the Symphogram. He didn’t mind, though, because William was able to fit much of his possessions, including his navigational tools, into his own satchel comfortably enough, save for a cap and a few utensils which he never really used in the first place.
The Other of One - Book One: The Lythiann Chronicles Page 43