“Well if it isn’t the Lord Mowden, back from the pumpkin fields with a couple of new strangers to move into the residence before his own lovely bond and undoubtedly bringing more wretched, slimy, rotting, seed shitting orange monsters for me to beat into edible submission. I am telling you one more time Mowden son of Browm, big man with a castle building bug, there will be no more pumpkin bread, pumpkin cakes, pumpkin dressing, pumpkin syrup, pumpkin stew, pumpkin chips, pumpkin seed muffins, or any other pumpkin based foods on this table until I have a plush overly ostentatious bed in a room with four stone walls and a real floor with a decent fireplace and rugs, so you’d best take whatever ugly orange squash you’ve set outside my door and chuck it to the sandmites in the moat if you have any real desire to ever consummate the family you keep talking about bequeathing this silly stone fortress to.”
“Kivress, I have a brought you a young man who will gladly consume all your pumpkin worries. But I can take them somewhere else for breakfast if you’re not in a sociable mood.”
“Is it the tall one or the little one?”
After enjoying a very messy breakfast and adding all the leftovers to their packs, Hardt and Mobious wandered through the castle with the permission of Lord Mowden, the second son of Browm who partnered Queen Laurel before she died. Browm and Laurel were the kimoet who’s summons Hardt had ignored. Hardt hid the summons when arranging the leftovers in his pack. He distracted Mowden and Kivress with questions about the castle.
The farm most fascinated Hardt. Kivress had explained with much colorful detail that in designing the castle Mowden had initially simply built a wall around the already walled village and gaming yard, their farm, and the rest of the clearing, nearly to the edge of the trees. As the multi-story residence built in the clearing rose higher, he’d encouraged the children of the village to dig a moat outside the castle wall to keep them away from the dangerous work. Since then, they’d kept digging and he felt too guilty to make them stop. Kivress’ opinion was that if the man didn’t have so many families to move into the residence tower, he’d be out there digging away for moat monsters himself. Hardt had to spill his plate of food on the rotting floor to distract Mobious from telling Kivress and Mowden how much dragons enjoy digging too.
Mobious was very friendly with all the landers that they met and none of the landers looked at the kid oddly except when he spoke. A girl in hunting gear asked him how old he was while Hardt was distracted by her companion’s news of the tor being built down in Stray. Fortunately Mobious remembered the lander way of referring to age. Unfortunately he told them his own.
“I have sixty-two seasons.”
The girl raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, “Yeah, well I have sixty-three.”
She meant it as a taunt but Mobious knit his brows with the math of trying to figure out which one of them was mistaken. Hardt turned it into a joke, suggested they take their hunting to the south, and decided it was time to leave.
When they got back to camp, Sophie and Nahni were busy weaving the trees into a bower.
Hardt lay his cloak out on the ground and set the sleepy Mobious on it before shouting up at the busy dtur. “We’re not staying here that long.”
“We might want to come back.”
“And Nahni needs the practice.”
“In other words, you were bored.” Hardt smiled and reached up to pick some burrs off of Nahni’s furry ear.
Sophie used the forked tips of her articulated tongue to get the burrs from Nahni’s other ear while the girl squirmed. Using mostly deep-throated dtur words pronounceable with her tongue otherwise employed, Sophie asked what they’d seen. Mobious overheard the question through his drowsy haze and scrambled over to the trio of adults. He started talking and only turned to Hardt for the occasional detail. He talked through a thorough grooming of both Nahni and Sophie. He talked through a lunch of pumpkin leftovers, fruity granola gathered by the dtur, and flower roots dug up by himself - while talking. He talked while Hardt snuggled up with him in the crook of Sophie’s neck and only very suddenly stopped talking after his eyes had closed and his brain shut down in exhaustion.
Sophie and Hardt chuckled quietly at the baby and turned to share the joke with Nahni only to find that she too had fallen fast asleep.
Hardt reached a hand out and stroked Sophie’s hide. “Tonight, I’d like to go south.”
“You told the hunters to go south. We’ll circle around to the east and then head down to the new castle.”
“Did you catch where Mobious said we discovered the castle is being built?”
“Stray, he said.” She watched him carefully to see how he felt about visiting his old home.
“Would you like to meet Vyck?”
She smiled broadly. “Almost as much as you want to see her again.”
“It’s been so long, Sophie.”
“Not so long to us, but for her, yes.”
“I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
“Why are you scared?” Hardt turned, surprised, to look up at his friend.
“What if you want to stay in Stray?” Sophie closed her eyes for a long moment to catch her breath. “You’ve more than paid your bloodprice to me. You can leave us now with no guilt.”
Hardt transferred Mobious to the warm crook of Nahni’s muzzle tucked over her foot and stood to lean himself against Sophie’s big head. He reached up and stroked the place on her forehead where she’d bled so many sheddings before on the shore of the river. “My life is with you now Sophie. You and Mobious, and I won’t ever leave you.”
Sophie whispered quietly as he lay back down and slipped into sleep, “You can if it would make you happy.”
Ten
∞
The bond star was just descending when the four made their last pass over Forte. A few fires were burning in the windows of the tower but they didn’t see anyone moving about. Mobious waved at the lower roof, shouting a goodbye to Kivress and her bond, but his wave was weak and he didn’t make his usual effort to lean as far over Sophie’s side as he normally would. Hardt felt a little concerned. The fearless boy would usually terrify Hardt by bouncing and leaning over too far and generally exhibiting no conception of how very far away the ground actually was. But Hardt chalked it up to the reversed day and night schedule they’d plunged him into and just wrapped his arms more tightly around the boy. He let the brief concern drift out of his mind as he returned to his thoughts about the approaching reunion with Vyck.
They’d flown almost halfway back to the decaying winter hut before Sophie turned them south. It would add a good deal of time to their trip, but they were guaranteed not to be seen by the hunters. Hardt was not entirely unaware how hypocritical it was to make this show of obeying Konifer’s restrictions since Hardt hoped in fact to introduce Sophie and Vyck sometime in the next few days, but they made the silly effort anyway.
They were following a small river and had just passed over a very small scattering of cottages when they saw the bear and her two cubs fishing far below. Hardt excitedly pointed the trio out to Mobious only to find the boy scratching at an inflamed rash spreading out around his mouth and down onto his chest. Tears were running down his cheeks but Hardt couldn’t get him to say what was wrong. Sophie turned around and looked at the boy and then immediately landed them in a small clearing east of the river.
“Mobious! Talk to me.” Hardt hastily unfastened the straps of the kid’s safety belt as soon as they were on the ground.
“He’s having trouble breathing, Hardt.” Nahni stuck her tongue out and touched Mobious’ face. The little boy uncharacteristically tried to slap it away. “And he’s burning up.”
Hardt growled. “He just felt a little warm to my touch, but I should have remembered dTelfur are colder than me.”
“You forget you’re different. It’s okay.” Sophie spoke soothingly, brushing her goatee along Mobious’ limp body. “Do you know what it could be?”
“It looks like a reaction to
poison, but I don’t know what poison he could have gotten into. Could he have been bitten last night?” But as he searched all over the baby’s body he found no unusual marks other than the rash which covered his hands and forearms, face, chest, and mouth.
Nahni didn’t point out how blue Mobious’ skin appeared to her. She stood away and watched the adults desperately trying to diagnose the problem. “Could we find a healer in that village back there?”
Sophie and Hardt turned to her so suddenly she feared she’d offended them. But then the lander turned back and resecured himself and Mobious for take off. Sophie shouted at Nahni to remain where she was as she leaped into the air and flew back in the direction they’d come.
She landed Hardt and Mobious by the river, as near a cottage as she dared and then took off again to return to Nahni. Hardt had dTserra’s horn in his pack if he needed her to come back. As she took off, Sophie saw Hardt running flat out for the hut with Mobious clutched to his chest.
At the cottage door, Hardt pounded and shouted for help. A wrinkled old woman answered the door. She peeked out the crack with suspicious eyes and searched Hardt up and down, freezing when she reached his face. She didn’t seem to even see Mobious in his arms.
“Please, my son is very sick. I need a healer.”
“There’s nothing can’t wait till morning.”
Hardt stuck a foot out to catch the door, but the old lady didn’t make any move to close it or retreat inside. She stood there, waiting for him to beg her.
“He can’t breathe. Please, just show me to your healer.”
“He’s on the other side of the river, about forty greg up from the bend.” Now she grew bored with the entertainment and started to shut her door in his face.
“Do you have a boat?”
“Sure we have a boat. Who lives on a river and…”
“Please, please, I’m begging you. Could you take us there? I’ll row. You can just point the way.”
A thoughtful look crossed her face. “I’ll take you. In exchange for that bracelet.”
She pointed at his left wrist where he was wearing dTserra’s wristguard.
In panic he thought of the only other bauble he could offer her and pulled down the collar of his shirt. “The bracelet isn’t mine to give, but you can have this.” Her eyes widened at the sight of the woven leather band around his neck. The necklace Vyck had given it to him when he was a boy. It was three strands of leather, smooth red and tan, and suede black, braided and tied together with a silver clasp. It had been a gift from her grandmother to her. A family heirloom Hardt’s mother, Nadi, had wanted very much. Hardt’s soul tore as he offered it to the horrible old woman, but his conscience wouldn’t let him abandon the wristguard which was to be Mobious’ reminder of a mother who would have loved him.
The woman slammed the door behind her, knocking slates from the sagging roof. “This way, stranger.”
Against all evidence, the boat held all three of them securely out of the water for the five minute trip upriver and around the bed. The old woman moved a great deal more agilely than Hardt would have imagined her capable of, leading them up the far bank to a much more sturdy cottage set in a copse of evergreens. Her knock at the door was accompanied by much shouting and insults. But the door was opened within moments of the first knock by a tall man of about Hardt’s seasons wearing a sleepskirt and throwing on a shirt.
“What is it?”
Hardt pushed past the woman, holding Mobious up in his arms. “My son has a rash and fever. He’s having trouble breathing but I can’t tell if the problem is in his chest or his throat. His tongue is swollen but doesn’t appear to be the primary blockage. The symptoms came on suddenly and I can’t ascertain their cause.”
“You’re a healer yourself.”
“I used to be. The symptoms look like poison, but he had no bites and I’ve seen everything he’s eaten.”
The healer took Mobious from Hardt’s arms and carried him over to a waist-high counter in the middle of the open room. Fear spiked through Hardt as the man started to undress the telf. But he only untied the shirt and lay his chest bare. Mobious’ gills were obscured by the drape of the fabric and his chubby arms. Hardt moved close to the table while the man peered in Mobious’ mouth and eyes.
“He’s not too hot, that’s good. Has he eaten anything new?”
“His basal temperature is usually much lower than mine, so this is a greater fever than it may appear to you.” Thinking hard about the second question, Hardt realized that Mobious had never tasted pumpkin before that morning and he had spilled it all over his chest and forearms and smeared his face with the soup. “Pumpkin. He’s never had pumpkin before.”
“It could be poisonous to him then. If we can reduce the swelling, we can get him breathing again. Here, take him to the cool house around back. I’ll gather some supplies and meet you there. You show him the way, mama, or I’ll stop giving you the wrinkle salve.”
“I’ll do as I please.” The old woman stormed out of the front door banging it behind her.
“She’ll take you.”
Hardt was not so certain, but he hurried out the door after her. She was disappearing around the back and when he caught up, she’d pulled up a wooden door in the ground leading to a stone cellar. Hardt scrambled down with Mobious and she followed, gathering a lit lamp from a hook beside the back door of the house before she did.
It was freezing in the cellar and by the time the healer arrived, Mobious was already breathing easier. The healer grabbed a mortar and pestle from a shelf and led the way further back into the meat filled cooler to where a table lay covered with the bloody carcass of a wild dog, its skin pinned back. The healer swept it onto the floor and flung a clean bedsheet over the remaining filth. He indicated for Hardt to lay Mobious on the table and began taking leaves and petals and powders from various jars on the far wall and mixing them in the pestle. The last ingredient was a liquid with which he stirred the concoction into a paste. He spread the paste liberally on Mobious’ tiny throat and chest. When he’d done that and checked the boy’s heartbeat and breathing again, he wiped out the pestle and ground a new paste from the jars.
The old woman stood by the door to the front, saying nothing. Hardt got the feeling she would find the proceedings more interesting if the patient were to die. He knew she would demand the necklace in either case.
Suddenly Mobious arched back and drew a deep breath all the way into his lungs. The paste had worked. The healer turned back to the table and helped Mobious to sit up against Hardt’s chest. He talked to the terrified little boy until his desperate breathing came in easier gasps and finally slowed to a near normal lander rhythm, still fast for a telf. Once the color had returned to Mobious’ face, the healer smeared the second paste onto the rash and dumped the remainder in the pestle out onto a scrap of badly tanned leather which he tied up into a small pouch for Hardt to take and reapply on Mobious later.
The healer looked Mobious over one last time and retied his shirt. Then he picked the kid up and handed him over to Hardt before leading the way up out of the cold cellar. Around at the front of the house he turned to Hardt and held out his palm.
“Don’t let him near pumpkin anymore. He’ll be fine.”
Hardt held his palm out in a hesitant farewell. “Thank you. What do you need in repayment?”
“Nothing.” The healer turned to go inside but turned back just as he opened the door. “Yes there is. Take her back across the river.”
The old lady was not to be dismissed so easily. She flung her long gray hair over her shoulder and pushed past Hardt and Mobious to get at her son. “I want to see my grandson since I’m all the way here.”
“No.”
A little boy carelessly holding a dripping candle was peeking out the doorway at the scene. He stared up at Mobious with big dark curious eyes and the sick little dTelfur stared back in equally unshamed fascination. The kid had thick, dark curly hair and was built broad and stocky though
he looked like he would grow into the build. He looked familiar to Hardt who smiled widely to dissipate the anger flashing between the kid’s father and granddam. The kid stuck his tongue out at Mobious and Hardt was relieved to see Mobious had enough energy to blow a raspberry right back. The two exchanged a series of funny faces while the argument raged on. Hardt ignored the fight until he was drawn back to it by the old woman’s words.
“He’s mine as much as yours you worthless, soulless, waste of my blood and sweat. I’ll come over and drown him one day if you don’t let me see him, Hardt.”
Mobious even looked up from his game. The eyes of the boy in the doorway grew to the size of pyre-coins as he turned his gaze up first at his granddam and slowly to his father. A silence fell between the two that was louder than the argument had been.
The healer took a deep and clearly painful breath and let it go. When he spoke, he spoke quietly, from many frseason of disappointment. “That’s the son you lost, Mother.”
He shoved his son inside the cottage, “Get to bed, Sruvic.” Then he turned back with one last word for a stammering Hardt. “Take my advice; get Nadi home and then run like hell.”
Then Hardt’s brother went inside his cottage and shut the door.
Hardt slowly followed Nadi back down to the river where they got into the boat and he rowed some but mostly let it drift with the current back down the river to the rotting wooden post pounded into the mud at the side of the river. He tied up the barely floating craft and carefully stepped out, lifting Mobious after him.
Hardt's Tale: A Mobious' Quest Novel Page 21