The Yarnsworld Collection: A fantasy boxset

by Benedict Patrick

  “He’s all yours, Lonan,” Niall Tumulty told him, breaking Lonan’s train of thought.

  “Thanks, guys. Best that you leave, though. If this waste of space knows the Magpie King, and I think he does, the less you all know, the better.”

  The men left with a little protest, leaving only the inhabitants of the cottage and Inteus behind.

  The visitor appeared to have regained some of his composure, despite his now uncomfortable position. “Well, Master Anvil, we are all very pleased you have survived. I am sure my lord will feel so too when I tell him.”

  Lonan responded by punching the tax collector across the face. “Now, this is going to be slow and painful if we don’t understand each other, so listen closely. You remember your friend, Jarleth Quarry?”

  Inteus nodded, silently, shocked at the sudden violence. This was a man who had never experienced a good punch in the face before.

  “Didn’t see him outside there, did you?”

  Inteus thought and shook his head.

  Lonan leaned in close to him. “That’s because we executed him yesterday. For doing this to me,” Lonan indicated the bandages on his head. “You see, Mister Inteus, people in Smithsdown take each other’s safety very seriously. And after this?” He held up his hand to display the stumps that remained of his two eaten digits. “Well, let’s just say that this means you are going to have to work very hard to try and stay alive.”

  “Now listen, young forager, you really cannot be serious-”

  Lonan rolled his eyes and hit the man again.

  “Knife,” Lonan requested, and Mother Ogma handed him a large chopping knife. “Now,” he said in a matter of fact tone, “there are people in this village I want to protect. I will not hesitate to use this knife to get what I need from you. So, answer my question: why does the Magpie King want me dead?”

  Inteus looked in panic at the weapon. “But... he’ll kill me...”

  “You do know I’m not planning on tickling you with this, don’t you?”

  Inteus stared directly at the knife, refusing to answer. Taking a deep breath, Lonan stuck the knife into the skin on Inteus’ forehead and began to draw a red line down the right side of the man’s face.

  “Your dreams, your dreams,” the man screamed, and Lonan removed the blade. “He does not like that you dream about him.”

  “Why not?”

  “He would not tell me. He is worried about something you might have seen.”

  Lonan nodded his head. “How did he know about them, the dreams?”

  “He didn’t know it was you. He just knew someone in this village had had them.”

  “How? How could he know something like that?”

  “It was his wife. She has sight, a gift of her people, she knows things. Queen Andromeda told him.”

  A shriek came up from the other side of the room. Harlow lifted himself out of his chair, and then crumpled onto the wooden floor, flopping about like a dying fish, continuing with his moans.

  “Is he all right?” Lonan questioned as Mother Ogma ran to him. “What the hell got into him? He’s madder than-”

  Then Lonan froze, another piece of the mystery sliding into place.

  “What is it?” Inteus questioned, straining against his bonds to see behind him. “Is that the old man? He wasn’t on my records - who is he?”

  “It’s just Harlow,” Mother Ogma shouted back as she hauled the old man back to his seat. “He’s been with me for years.”

  Lonan remained unmoving. No. That’s not Harlow. Harlow the simpleton has no part to play in this drama. Harlow the invalid wouldn’t react in such a frenzy at hearing the name of the Magpie King’s wife.

  But Adahy would.

  For the last ten years, Lonan had been helping to wipe up the dribbles and clean the bedpan of the Magpie King.

  Mother Ogma caught Lonan’s shocked gaze, looked back at Harlow, and Lonan could tell that her mind was not too far behind his in putting the puzzle pieces together.

  Lonan directed his attention back to Inteus to distract him from Mother Ogma. “The queen knew I was dreaming? I must see her then. Where is she?”

  “The Eyrie.”

  Lonan shook his head. “No good. We both know I wouldn’t last a second at those gates. She must leave the castle sometimes.”

  Inteus shrugged and then Lonan pressed the knife close again.

  “The temple. She has permission to visit the temple to pray. She does so regularly, under guard.”

  Lonan raised his eyebrow at that last comment. Why the guard - to keep her safe, or to keep her under control?

  “Is she happy?” he asked, instinctively.

  “Sorry?”

  “The queen. Would you say she’s happy?”

  “I- it must be a great honour to be consort to the Magpie King.” Lonan raised his eyebrow at the tax collector. “But... no. No, I do not think so. The Eyrie is… tense. It is not an easy life, to be so close to the crown. For any of us.”

  No, Lonan thought, remembering his journey through Adahy’s life. But I bet it’s a damned sight different now from back in the prince’s day. He looked over at Mother Ogma who was now patting Harlow’s - no, Adahy’s - hand reverently.

  “I have to go,” he stated bluntly. “To see the queen. Keep this one under lock and key until I’m gone.”

  At this, Adahy stood up. It was a shock to see him do so, to see him so in control of his actions. It was like watching a piece of furniture come to life.

  “...Harlow?” Lonan questioned, not wishing to give away the true Magpie King’s identity.

  “I think,” Mother Ogma decided, “that our old friend wishes to come with you.” Adahy stood, fixing his eye on Lonan, but otherwise not responding.

  Lonan shook his head with incredulity at the idea. “Not a chance. He hasn’t been out of his chair in decades. He can’t even think for himself - he’d get himself killed out there.”

  At this, Adahy grunted and remained staring at Lonan.

  “Dearie,” Mother Ogma interceded, “do you really think you should be refusing our friend’s command?”

  To refuse the command of the king is high treason.

  “Fine,” Lonan relented, “but I’ve a bad feeling about this.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Inteus sneered, “you escaped almost certain death last night, just to walk back into it now? My lord was wrong to be concerned about you. Such a fool is no threat to the crown.”

  This insult earned Inteus a slap on the back of his head, which only served to spur the bureaucrat on further.

  “And you think this foolishness will save the life of your family and friends? He knows where you live now, and expects to hear from me within two days. Where do you think he will look first for answers when I do not arrive back? His questioning is not kind.”

  Lonan pointed the knife at Inteus’ face, giving him a steely glare. “I shall not be back here, not while the Magpie King lives. You tell him that if you see him. Mother Ogma, set this fool free after two days. He can go and deliver his message, to keep the village safe.”

  “But,” and as Lonan uttered this last sentence he lowered his hand so the knife point tickled the end of Inteus’ nose, “you’d better pray he doesn’t find me. Because if he does then your name and the information you gave me will be the first thing that I mention to him.”

  Inteus paled, and was silent.

  “Come on then,” Lonan motioned to Adahy. The old man continued to stare. Lonan rolled his eyes. “Artemis’ beard,” he muttered, and took the king’s arm to help him totter out of the cottage door.

  Mother Ogma came outside with them, bringing travelling cloaks and bags she had hastily prepared with bread and dried meat. “Good gods, the king,” she was finally able to whisper to Lonan, free from prying ears. “I’ve been living with the Magpie King for all this time and didn’t know it.”

  Lonan smiled sadly at her. “I suspect Adahy doesn’t know it either. The wound was bad - I can’t im
agine there’s much of him left in there.”

  “I hope not, dearie. A lot of what he has heard and seen under my roof were not fit for a king to weather.”

  He caught the twinkle in her eye and smiled with her.

  Then she frowned. “But dearie, the monsters. Your dreams showed you the Wolves attacking us, and you were able to find their tracks in the morning.

  Lonan shrugged. “We always knew monsters roamed the village at night. Of course I was able to find some kind of evidence that something had been there. Not the Wolves though - I reckon there hasn’t been a Wolf in the forest since before I was born, probably since you were young. The thing that got me last night, those are the monsters we hide ourselves from.”

  Ogma smiled again. “One less for us to worry about now though.”

  Lonan nodded, and then thought for a moment. “So, the temple then?”

  Mother Ogma pointed north. Lonan gave her a brief hug and she attempted to do so to Adahy, but received no physical response. With that, Lonan and Adahy trotted out of Smithsdown towards the Eyrie.

  The town’s northern border was marked by a river which the pair crossed by way of an old log that had been placed across the current. As he helped Adahy make his way across it, Lonan instinctively looked upstream. There in the distance was the tiny figure of a young woman washing clothing, a baby girl sleeping close by. For a brief moment Lonan considered leaving her alone. She would still be angry with him for breaking his promise last night, and there was no point in making up with her now, only to break her heart all over again by dying. Time enough to heal those wounds if he survived. The sensible, selfless thing would be for Lonan to walk away now.

  “Wait here a moment,” he said to Adahy, and made his way down the river towards Branwen.

  Her face was a mix of emotions when she eventually caught sight of him. Lonan could tell she was thankful to see him, thankful he had not died as the tax collector had suggested. However, the relief on her face lasted only a moment, and was replaced by the angry scowl that Lonan had looked at for most of his life.

  “Go away,” she said simply. “I’m not ready to speak with you yet.”

  Lonan nodded his head. “Yeah, I get that. Really, I understand - I was stupid.”

  “You lied to me,” she said, the anger working its way to the surface. “Do you know what I need less of in my life right now? Lies.”

  Lonan winced. Her whole life with Jarleth had been built on lies, and Lonan was not doing any better at this early point in their relationship. He looked away in shame.

  “I know, it was really bad. I’m really sorry. I just wanted to see you before-”

  “Where’re you going?” He looked back at her, but Branwen’s gaze was now directed downstream. She had spotted Adahy, waiting silently for him.

  Lonan winced again, unsure about how much he should explain. “I have to leave for a while.” He showed her his bandaged hand. “It’s to do with all of this. I’m going to stop this from happening again.”

  Branwen looked puzzled. “Whoever did that, are they coming back to finish the job?”

  Caught by a sudden burst of inspiration, Lonan stepped forward and took Branwen by the shoulders. “They come back every night, Branwen. They always do, they’re always out there, but I’m going to do what I can to stop it from happening ever again.”

  She shook her head, eyes darting between each of his. “You’re mad. The blow to the head, and then last night - you aren’t in your right mind.”

  He smiled wearily. “I wish that was the case, truly. I want nothing more than to win back your trust, settle down with you and raise Clare together. But this has to be sorted first. What kind of man would I be if I brought danger to your door? I’ve no idea if the thing that did this will let our buried cellars stop it.” He drew himself closer to Branwen and lowered his voice. “I want to show you I can protect you, protect Clare, the village, maybe the whole damned forest.”

  Then he kissed her. This was not like before. This was not a chaste kiss between two strangers unsure of how to show their love to each other, unsure of how much affection they were allowed to give at this early stage. This was a full embrace, two people baring all, showing each other how deeply and how long they had cared and wanted to be together. As he held Branwen in his arms, his lips joined with hers, Lonan saw them together. He saw them walking hand in hand along the village green. Clare was there too, older now, having inherited her mother’s brown locks, running around them both and laughing. Another child was being carried - a boy, his face just beyond Lonan’s ability to picture in detail. His own son, a possibility if he stayed here with Branwen.

  He felt her hands grip him, pulling him closer, and the image in Lonan’s mind changed again. This time it was him and Branwen, much older, sitting with each other in a dark cottage, smiling together beside a roaring fire.

  They pulled apart from each other and both had streaks of tears down their faces.

  “I have to go,” he said reluctantly, “we’re racing against nightfall.”

  “Promise you’ll come back to me,” Branwen said.

  Lonan smiled at her sadly. “I don’t want to lie to you again.”

  “Just promise me.”

  Lonan looked down at his feet and then raised his head to smile at her one last time. “I love you, Branwen Dripper.” Then he turned and walked away to rejoin Adahy. Once they had entered the forest again, away from the sight of the river, Lonan finally allowed himself some lonely sobs while he walked with the mute.

  As they plodded through the forest, those last words echoed through Lonan’s mind. I don’t want to lie to you again. He had faced death last night, and in those terrible minutes had been sure that he was about to meet his end. The sense of dread had not disappeared with his rescue, and as the information mounted up he had become increasingly aware he had unwittingly fallen into the centre of events that had been in play before he was born. Maedoc was the Magpie King now, and had been for longer than Lonan’s lifetime. Adahy’s bride-to-be had lived a life of fear in the mad king’s clutches for decades. Now new monsters had come to the forest to replace the good that Adahy had done in his short reign.

  The pair were walking along an old path, one that Lonan assumed had been used much more frequently in the days of Adahy’s father when there had been more contact between the Eyrie and the villages. It was still possible to make out the route it had carved through the greenery, but lack of use made it more difficult to travel, especially if you were an old man not used to walking. Adahy tripped and stumbled on the clumps of ferns and shrub roots that now littered the path, causing Lonan to spend longer guiding him along and thus slowing their progress significantly.

  “I suppose those dreams were all to do with you?” Lonan queried Adahy, not expecting an answer.

  “It meant a lot to me, when I first thought I was special,” Lonan continued, “when I thought I had a Knack nobody else had. But it makes sense now that it had something to do with you being close by. Some sort of Magpie King power, or kingly Knack? Your mother was an Owl, wasn’t she? I heard they have dream powers - could have been something you inherited from her.”

  Lonan allowed a sad smile to play across his face at the continued silence of his walking partner. He turned to look at the man’s face as he guided Adahy through a pair of particularly dense gorse bushes that had taken root on either side of the unused path. Lonan found it so difficult to think of this old, ruined man as the young prince whose mind he had shared so much over the past few weeks.

  “I could’ve done it at one point, you know. Developed a Knack. I could feel it coming when I first started living with Mother Ogma. I liked it there. She was the only person in the village to keep treating me like a normal child. So, I wanted to keep her happy. As a healer, she needed herbs and flowers, and I wanted to be the one to do that for her.”

  “I spent weeks running around the forest and the cliffs nearby, and I got really good at it. Then one day, I realised
I was getting too good. I was starting to spot where a flower would grow because of other vegetation nearby. I was recognising herbs by their scent instead of sight.” Lonan spat as they continued to walk. “I was damned if I was going to trade a blacksmith’s Knack for one of a forager, so I stopped being useful.”

  They walked together in silence for a while. “Something we both had in common for her, I guess.”

  Lonan whittled on now and again about more trivial matters, but generally the two walked in silence. Mother Ogma had told Lonan that the temple was a day’s journey from Smithsdown, but with Adahy travelling with him there was no chance that Lonan could keep the necessary pace. When the sun was lower in the sky than Lonan was comfortable with, he found a tree that he was able to heft Adahy into the branches of, and secured them both with rope from Mother Ogma’s backpack. Lonan planned to stay awake to look out for Wolves or bird-monsters, but exhaustion from last night’s events overcame him and he drifted off to sleep.

  For the first night in a long time, Lonan did not dream.

  They awoke with sunrise the following morning. Lonan untied them both and they continued on their way. Sometime after midday they arrived at the shrine. It had clearly undergone some repairs since Lonan had last viewed it through Adahy’s eyes, as the broken door had been replaced and windows were now repaired, but the holy building did not hold the air of reverence it once had. The doors to the shrine appeared to be unguarded and the gardens were overgrown and untended. For the first time since leaving Smithsdown, Lonan felt at a loss for what to do.