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The Bastard from Fairyland

Page 2

by Phil Parker


  ‘Yeah. Well. Mickey talked a load of shit.’

  The lad blinked, realised he was treading on thin ice. His endless references to Mickey made my simmering anger return to the boil, I needed to bring this cosy situation to an end.

  ‘Listen,’ I said, ‘I’m not a nice man. For a very long time, do you know how your people described me?’ A shake of the head. ‘A demon. A hobgoblin. They even wrote a play about me, I wasn’t very nice in that either. I’m something more than a soldier. It’s why, when they come for me, you need to be long gone. It won’t be safe to be near me. Do you understand?’

  We both heard the heavy footsteps outside, the kid looked at me, panic written across his face in capital letters. He wasn’t going to escape and we both knew it. I ran to the spyholes in my boarded windows, there were Spriggans everywhere, standing like sentinels. They’d be waiting for whoever was in charge to give the order to attack. I grabbed my sword and turned to the kid.

  ‘Get upstairs, quick. Find somewhere to hide.’

  He didn’t hesitate, he hauled up his clown trousers and hurried to the staircase.

  An explosion rocked the cottage, dust fell from the ceiling beams. They’d tried to get in upstairs, it looked like my ancient booby-traps still worked. Outside urgent commands were bellowed. Another explosion and outside things landed heavily on the ground. More commands, growled and furious this time. They were going to make me suffer for this but I didn’t care, I was a Trooping Fairy and we always ran towards a fight, never away. A loud thud smacked against the door and I held my sword ready.

  Chapter 2

  As a soldier, you often wonder where you’ll die; in my youth I’d hoped it would be in battle, later in the bed of the man I loved. Reality was going be less glorious, the death of Robin Goodfellow in a kitchen wouldn’t be a popular tavern tale. But then who would care?

  Another explosion. More loud groans and muffled commands.

  I wondered who was leading the attack. It wouldn’t be Oberon; kings send minions for stuff like this. The big ugly bastards currently helping to demolish my home needed someone to issue the orders, I wondered which poor bugger had been given the responsibility. Probably some underling I’d never heard of.

  Heavy footsteps outside. This was going to be like old times. I readied myself.

  The door flew off its hinges and smashed heavily against the stone-slabbed floor. I hurled salt in the face of the first hulking spriggan to appear in the entrance, it clawed its skin and howled until I ran it through with my sword. The body fell like a huge tree over my threshold. A quick pivot, maintaining balance and momentum, blade slicing through the air and across the bulging belly of the second attacker as it stormed the doorway. It collapsed on its comrade in a tangle of over-long, ape-like limbs and steaming intestines.

  A third rushed at me, roaring. This one was huge, I sprang to meet it, raising my sword at the same time, to bring it down on the arm carrying an enormous cudgel. The roar turned into a howl as, weapon-less but undeterred, it rushed me, relying on its mass to knock me to the floor. It tried to grab me with its one arm but I was too quick, a nifty dodge let me stick my sword up into a foul-smelling armpit. With a groan my latest victim joined the others in a rapidly-growing wall of corpses in the doorway.

  The next one brandished a sword in hand and a grin on a misshapen face. He was fast and skilled with his weapon, we parried a few times but he made the mistake of using his strength to push me backwards. Swordplay needs dexterity, plus a few sly tricks I’d learned over time. A quick upward flick of my blade forced him into an upward parrying movement, with his eyes on our swords he didn’t see me kick him between the legs, he felt it though and doubled up groaning, making it easy to ram my blade through his ribs. He sank atop the pile of stinking bodies.

  The doorway had become a choke point, now it was half-filled with spriggan corpses I could defend it, they’d need to knock down the wall to reach me. It wouldn’t take them long and I was probably moments from death, but I hadn’t felt so alive, my body thrummed with battle energy, the drug I’d fought hard to resist as a youth.

  ‘Robin!’

  The voice brought me up sharp. With no adversaries left I froze.

  ‘Robin? Can you hear me?’

  I held my breath as ice coursed through my veins and time stopped. I was vulnerable to attack but my head buzzed with possibilities I couldn’t begin to process. I stood in my kitchen, blankly staring beyond the doorway trying to work out what to do next. Oberon must have plumbed the depths of irony to achieve his revenge.

  The voice hadn’t changed in all this time, it still held the same mellow tone and lyrical lilt of the storyteller. A voice which had melted my heart a long time ago. I struggled to find my own voice amidst the lump in my throat.

  ‘I can hear you Oisin.’

  I pictured his reaction to me using his name, his pause satisfied me.

  ‘We need to talk. Let’s end this senseless bloodshed.’

  ‘Since when do you care about the death of a few spriggans?’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking of their blood.’

  There was something in his tone that intrigued me, a tinge of regret perhaps? Or was I just being an incurable romantic?

  ‘Why does it matter if they kill me? You’ll have done your duty by dragging my body back to the Dark Court. I’ll just shoot my mouth off if you take me back alive.’

  Silence.

  The eventual reply had an unmistakeable tinge of curiosity.

  ‘Why do you think we’re here Robin?’

  Now I was the one silenced. His question suggested a different scenario to the one I’d anticipated, I couldn’t think of a reply but thankfully Oisin didn’t wait.

  ‘Let’s meet and talk so we can clear up this misunderstanding.’

  My home was a ruin, there were bodies everywhere and we’d only had a misunderstanding?

  ‘All right.’

  My whirling brain searched for explanations. A troop of spriggans had sought me out, used the boy hiding upstairs as bait and they were led by the man I’d once loved. Why had Oberon sent Oisin to capture me when I hadn’t seen him in the lifespan of several human generations, a man who had no military experience. I knew every intonation Oisin used, any lie had always been instantly obvious to me, so much so we used to joke about it. Unless he’d changed significantly, Oisin was telling the truth, this was some sort of misunderstanding. I tried to think, be ready for every eventuality because that was what warriors were supposed to do. My brain could only focus on one thing.

  I was about to see the man I’d once loved and had abandoned.

  The morning sun cast Oisin’s shadow over the stinking corpses and made me look up from staring at my feet where I’d hoped I’d find a smattering of inspiration.

  ‘Hello Robin.’

  I peered blindly at the dark silhouette standing in my doorway, desperate to see his face again. He stepped awkwardly over the bodies at his feet and I gazed into perfect beauty.

  He’d always hated it when I described him that way, he’d rebuke me for assigning him perfection when he was nothing of the kind. He hadn’t changed in all this time. Blonde curls framed a perfectly symmetrical face with a strong jaw, high and perfectly defined cheek bones and cornflower blue eyes. Despite everything, my heart lurched and the saliva in my throat evaporated.

  ‘Hello Oisin,’ I croaked.

  Suddenly, catching me hopelessly distracted, another man appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Well, isn’t this awkward eh? How long is it since you two saw each other?’

  Perfectly-formed features, the work of hours of careful shaving, rigorous skincare and styling of hair that contained almost as much oil as the conceited voice, dragged my attention away from Oisin. The smell of dead spriggan caused his fine aquiline nose to wrinkle, I expected a perfumed handkerchief to appear to cover the offended nostrils.

  ‘Llyr.’

  Astonishment and that dry throat I mentioned, robbed me of the d
isdain I tried to put into my reply. Either he didn’t notice or didn’t care, I suspected the latter. As he took a couple of steps towards me I had enough time to glance at Oisin’s expression. What I saw didn’t fill me with confidence. My brain abandoned its search for meaning and made subtle preparations to fight. Going by the wide and perfect smile I was awarded, nothing appeared further from this man’s mind but I knew that meant nothing. He waggled perfect eyebrows suggestively.

  ‘You’re a handsome specimen of manhood Robin, you’ve still got those exciting bulges in all the right places.’

  I rolled my eyes to let him know we’d moved beyond boyish humour. He peered at me harder.

  ‘But those beautiful blue eyes seem to have lost their mischief, there’s a sadness that wasn’t there before.’ He looked around my kitchen with thinly-disguised distaste. ‘I’m beginning to see why. Have you lived in… this... for long?’

  He drew a finger over my kitchen table and examined it with a curled lip.

  ‘What do you want Llyr?’

  The perfectly-formed smile widened, if that was possible.

  ‘Always straight to the point, eh Robin? Not even an invitation to seat your guests.’

  He reached out to take a chair and thought better of it as he withdrew his hand and brushed away atoms of dust.

  ‘I said, what do you want?’

  I turned it into enough of a growl to make my intent obvious. I still held my sword and he glanced at my hand as I shifted my grip.

  Perfect teeth flashed at me. ‘Relax Robin. We’re here to talk. But I would like to be reassured of our safety. Would you mind if Oisin checked the other rooms? I’m sure in this hovel of yours, that won’t take long?’

  I shrugged. I had no choice in the matter. I hoped the lad upstairs was well hidden.

  Oisin marched past, without looking in my direction. I caught his scent and felt my pulse quicken. The bastard standing in front of me noticed and grinned wickedly.

  ‘I’ve missed you Robin. We used to have such good times.’

  I wanted to smash those perfect teeth down his throat.

  ‘Do you mean when you behaved like some love-struck dairy maid contriving ways for me to fuck you?’

  The grin froze for an instant, when it returned there was an emptiness behind it. I’d hurt him. Good.

  ‘In the early days, after your sudden departure, Oisin and I would speak often of your propensity to hurt other people, him more than anyone of course. I’m not surprised he never forgave you.’

  The conceit in his smile wasn’t just satisfaction at his retaliation, there was something else behind those dark eyes. He’d changed. There was no sign of the playful, rebellious kid eager to establish himself as the crown prince. Instead his narrowed eyes and lips displayed a feral quality I didn’t like. It made me wonder why he was here, he ran enormous risks, if humans captured him it could end the war. It left me with one question: why was he risking so much by coming to find me?

  ‘Why are you risking so much coming to find me Llyr?’

  I was never one to beat about the bush.

  The inevitable grin displayed whiter-than-white teeth but now I saw less of a toothpaste advert and more of the snarl of a hyena. It was the slightly manic giggle that went with it that made me think of the animal.

  ‘I’ve missed your candour Robin. The Dark Court is full of fawning bootlickers; it’s refreshing to hear someone speak their mind.’

  ‘I’m sure. But to answer my question?’

  The hyena grin widened. ‘I seek your help Robin.’

  ‘Is that why you arrived here with a battalion of spriggans and duped me into believing it was only Oisin I was inviting into my home?’

  His eyes didn’t leave mine, even as he picked up a wooden chair, spun it round and straddled it, laying his arms across the upright back and resting his chin on them. An act of ostentatious affectation and nothing like the boy I’d known.

  ‘Would you have invited me in otherwise?’

  ‘Of course. We used to be friends.’

  He chuckled at my lie. ‘Well, I didn’t want to take the risk. We’d parted on such sour terms. I didn’t know if you’d retained a grudge.’

  Grudge? Me? Too fucking right, I retained a grudge. The bastard had wrecked my life for no other reason than his pride got hurt.

  I smiled and shrugged. ‘Harbouring grudges causes frown lines.’

  It got a loud and unconvincing guffaw. ‘Good. I want us to be friends again.’

  ‘So, tell me why you’re here.’

  ‘I want you to tell me you where you’ve hidden the Knights.’

  I maintained a complacent expression, Llyr would be watching every facial muscle for a clue, my mind raced as I fed him lies.

  ‘The Knights? Why do they matter? You’ve all but destroyed humanity’s opposition. Leave them a couple of years and they’ll finish themselves off. Besides, this generation of Knights are still kids.’ I snorted contempt and hoped I sounded believable. ‘It’s been so long since Gawain promised Arthur he and his descendants would defend mankind against the Fae, most of it has been forgotten anyway. These two kids have very limited grasp of their heritage and certainly no expertise with their special skills.’

  I gave him by best smile.

  ‘The Knights aren’t a threat to you. Forget them.’

  His smile remained but it was a lie too.

  ‘You didn’t tell me where they are.’

  Llyr continued his scrutiny.

  ‘You’re right that they don’t pose a threat, we made sure of that by eliminating the previous generation in readiness for the invasion.’ I made sure not to show any reaction. ‘They serve a different purpose Robin. A political one.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ I really didn’t.

  Upstairs loud thumps reverberated through the ceiling. He picked up on my concern. His top lip curled.

  ‘Sounds like Oisin’s found something.’

  My mind whirled in desperation as options presented themselves as if I was flicking through pages of a manual. They all involved killing the bastard but I doubted he would leave himself so vulnerable, Llyr was too devious for that, suddenly an explanation formed out of the confusion in my head.

  ‘You’re facing opposition from the Dark Court aren’t you? They’ve lost faith in you.’

  The smile slid off his face and left only the snarl.

  ‘Now I remember why I forced you out of my Court.’

  ‘It’s yours now is it?’ I said, proud I was irking him into making mistakes.

  ‘Tell me where the Knights are Robin.’ The snarl had deepened.

  I took a deep breath and hoped I could provoke him into reacting before events upstairs compromised me.

  ‘Llyr, go fuck yourself.’

  I raised my sword and launched at him. If I was fast, he was faster. He had something in his hand I realised, small and shiny. He hurled it at my feet and suddenly, I couldn’t move. Icy cold permeated my feet in a second, coursed through my veins into my calves and up to my knee, my sprint turned into slow motion until I came to an abrupt halt. By the time my brain had caught up with my legs, they glistened with thousands of miniature diamonds, like frost had enveloped them.

  I looked up at the bastard’s face. Needless to say, it was grinning.

  ‘I had the royal thaumaturgicians develop this clever little device for me. I’ve found it very useful. It rises just far enough up the leg that it immobilises the victim but ensures sensations elsewhere in the body remain unimpaired.’

  ‘Llyr, I swear, you’d better release me…’

  He stepped around me, out of view, suddenly he smacked my wrist so hard that I dropped my sword out of surprise. He allowed the same hand to caress my arse.

  ‘When you saw fit to inform the Dark Court you’d been buggering their Crown Prince, my rivals chose to use it against me. When you incapacitate them in this way you can commit all kinds of ignominy on them.’

  He stepped in front of m
e, just out of reach of my fists.

  ‘Because of you I had to develop the strength to withstand their treason. I confess it introduced me to satisfaction I’d never encountered before.’

  ‘You’re sick Llyr.’

  ‘Perhaps. It doesn’t matter. I’ve replaced my feeble-minded father and now I’m the ruler of the Dark Court, everyone does as I say. That includes you Robin. Oh, you might fight me initially. But you’ll tell me what I want to know.’

  The door opened, Oisin stood there, face pale and anxious. Behind him two spriggan soldiers held the boy who struggled and fought them impotently. The moment he saw me the kid begged for my help until he saw my own situation, then his face fell and he began to cry. Oisin glanced at me but said nothing as he gestured for the guards to stand the boy next to Llyr.

  We all knew what was going to happen. The boy looked at me the whole time, his enormous, tear-filled eyes full of condemnation for not keeping him safe.

  ‘Let the boy go Llyr. He’s nothing.’

  A red tongue licked narrow lips as a smirk formed on them.

  ‘I disagree. It’s significant that you brought him in to your home.’

  ‘Let him go. He did his job, leading you to me. I’m the one you want to hurt.’

  ‘True. But you can be so uncooperative Robin. No, the boy’s purpose is more of a lever for negotiation. I knew you couldn’t resist rescuing him.’

  All the pieces of the jigsaw that had confused me until now, fell into place and I didn’t like the picture it created. Llyr watched me process it all, when I looked at him again, he repeated his question. The edge in his voice was unmistakeable.

  ‘Tell me where you’ve hidden the Knights.’

  My mind hunted for some way to end my dilemma. I searched each face for an answer, focusing on Oisin’s longest in the hope he’d do something to prevent the inevitable. He chose to stare at the floor.

  ‘If I betray the Knights you’ll parade them in front of both Courts, martial the political impetus to prove you’ve seized the initiative to end this war. If the Light Court join you, the human race will be annihilated. There would be carnage.’

  The bastard nodded. ‘I suppose I should be surprised by your assessment but you always were a political animal Robin. My question demands a simple decision: where do you pledge your loyalty? To the human vermin that infest this planet or to your own kind?’

 

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