by J Battle
Misthaven
The Complete Boxset
By
J. Battle
Book I: This Fragile Flesh
Book II: This Fallen Breed
Book III: This Cleansing Flame
The usual stuff you might expect to find at the front of the book can be found at the back of the book, for a change.
This Fragile Flesh
Misthaven: Book I
Book I
When the age of Magic ends, then the First Men shall return
Chapter 1 Woewearer
She walked slowly, but without hesitation or pause. Her bent body, clad in a simple brown dress and a ragged cloak, might have seemed frail, but her grip on her knobbly staff suggested unseen strength. She stamped it down onto the road as she walked, and she sang softly to herself.
‘Lost they are, and who knows when,
We will ever see their like again?
Lost they are, and who knows why,
All fine men are born to die?’
It wasn’t at all a jolly song, but she was Ellaine the Woewearer, so what else would she sing?
Several miles behind her was the mining town of Hillrich, and an hour’s worth of good walking ahead of her was Rivercrest, a happy little town that chuckled at its good fortune on any summer’s morning.
She’d arrived in Hillrich in good time to see what was to be seen, and she’d helped lay out the bodies of 12 good strong men, dragged in tears and wails from the collapsed mine. She’d asked for each of their names, and one day she would sing a song of remorse for their loss, for she was Ellaine the Woewearer, and that was her duty.
Even as she walked, she shook her head for the loss of Will and Deve and Henk and Matt and all the others.
She stopped suddenly, and she looked back the way she’d come.
‘No,’ she said, softly, ‘T’was right enough, it was. Nothing else to be said or done, you silly old dear. T’weren’t right to save them; no, it weren’t. That’s not what I’m here for. I’m a witness, and I’m nothing more.’
She turned away from the mining town and began to continue her journey.
Then she smiled, and she chuckled lightly to herself.
‘Not unless it suits me to be otherwise.’
She planned to tarry a while in Rivercrest, but there would be little enough for her to witness there; not unless some fool drank his fill of ale and fell into the river.
From there she would work her way south, for she liked the feel of the sun on her back. And then, perhaps she would leave Midland behind her for a while, and seek what tales of loss she might find elsewhere.
But, with so many years weighing on her bony shoulders, she was feeling the need to be closer to Hesselton, and its little secret, of course.
‘Ay,‘ she said, with a sigh. ‘That’s the place to be heading towards, for now.’
She stopped then, at the thought of that mysterious little town, and the sudden devastating images that threatened to overwhelm her mind. She slipped to her knees and closed her eyes, to see more clearly the vision that had suddenly been presented to her.
The ships in Hesselton’s little harbour were afire. The streets ran with flame. The people were tiny shadows, rushing here and there until they were taken by the fire, and the screams fair broke her heart to hear. Then she heard the words that were being screamed, and her eyes flicked open. An astute observer might have seen flames flickering in her eyes, but there was no-one to see.
‘The Trytor comes! The Trytor comes!’ The hoarse voices rang in her ears.
She cupped her face in both hands at the very thought.
She’d never seen a Trytor herself, but of course she knew of them. ‘Why so far south?’ she whispered, as she looked around her.
The urge to do something threatened to overwhelm her. ‘But I am no more than a witness,’ she whispered, with a quick shake of her head and a half raised hand.
She climbed back to her feet and swayed a little at the sudden rush of blood.
She could continue along her way as if the gift of foresight had not been given to her, and that is what she should do; no doubt about it.
Or she could take some action that could mitigate the horror she had seen.
She knelt back down on the ground, with a groan, and perhaps a cuss, and then she rolled her lucky charms. The tiny, bleached bones rattled as they fell, and her eyes studied the formation that was left.
The bones proclaimed, ‘Caution,’ ‘Know your failings,’ and ‘Danger.’
She considered each one carefully, and then she scooped them up.
‘Stuff and nonsense! Nothing but stuff and nonsense.’
When she’d struggled back to her feet, it seemed that the decision was already made.
‘If I go back a ways,’ she said, slowly, her words measured. ‘I can cut across to the mountain road.’
‘Ay,’ she said, finally. ’That will do fine. Because I’ll surely come across a Giant up there, and I always says, if you set him right, you can stop a mighty river with a Giant, you can.’
She didn’t know exactly how long she had to act. When the future lifted its curtains to give her a glimpse of what was ahead, it could be tomorrow, or it could just as well be weeks hence. Yet she felt the urgency within the sign she had been given.
She huffed a little as she began to walk back up the hill, and she shook her head.
‘I was surely looking forward to putting my feet up for a rest, and mayhap some kindly man would offer an old dear a drink of ale for her good wishes. Yes, that would have been mighty fine, yes, indeed.’
She’d barely reached the mountain road, a few hours later, when she felt the hard road shaking like a promise of thunder.
She smiled then, and she settled herself down in the middle of the road to wait for what was coming her way.
‘If only he’d known,
If only he knew,
If only he believed my lie
If only he’d known,
If only he knew,
That all fine men are doomed to die.’
She sighed. ’One day, I’ll sing a song of Buttercups and Daisies, or of honey and sunshine, but not today; not today.’
Then she saw him, stomping towards her with a look of grim determination on his broad face. She stiffened her shoulders, and collected together all of her wits, for you have to be careful what you say to a Giant, in case he gets all fed up with your words and decides to sit on you just to shut you up. However, this should be a Midland Giant and he ought to know how to behave near humans, unlike northern Giants, who don’t know how to behave at all.
‘Ho there, Giant!’ she called, when he was still some distance away from her, because it’s always a good idea to let a Giant know early that you are there, in case he doesn’t notice you and tramples you beneath his great feet.
The Giant walked five or six paces more before her words registered and he came to a halt no more than 10 yards from where she knelt.
‘Ho there, little human,’ he said, and he seemed to bend a little in the middle. ’You got any food there with you? Or ale? Ale would do, or food.’ His voice rumbled like a tumble of rocks down a mountainside.
‘Sorry, kind sir, but I have neither.’
The Giant looked down on her, and then he looked around. Then he scratched the dark tussled hair on his broad flat head with one hand, and fingered his bright red neckerchief with the other.
‘What you doing, sat there in the middle of the road, with no-one else about?’
‘Oh, my Lord Giant, or is it King Giant I should be calling you, Sire?’
The Giant grinned. ‘I ain’t a king, little human. I’s just Belloom, that’s all I am. Have you got
any food? Did I ask that already?’
‘You’re not a king? Well, I never saw the like. I’ve seen a few Giants in my time, I have, but I’ve never seen one the size of you, or one as regal as you, and that’s the fair and honest truth.’ She smiled as she studied his light brown blouse, all splattered with food stains from careless eating.
‘Well, I is big, I’ll give ye that, but I don’t rightly know what that other word you said meant.’
‘It means kingly, Sire, and that you are. How big are you then, do you know?’
‘Of course I knows. I had one of them little human men measure me, I did, with a ladder and a rope and all, and he said I be 13 foot from the ground to the top of my head, plus another six of those little inch things added on top. And from this shoulder here, to that shoulder there, it be as near to 10 feet as don’t make no difference, he said. Oh, and around my belly here, it was just about 14 feet around, he said it was, and I believed him, ‘cause, why would he lie to me? I’d been only nice to him, and hardly crushed him at all, I haven’t, if you don’t count a little bump. Now I think on it, I did see him walking away there with a limp on his leg, a bit afterwards like. Well, it weren’t prop’ly broken, I’d say, and it weren’t my fault, ‘cause I be easier to see than he is, being so big, and he should have kept himself out my way, he should.’
’13 feet and 6 inches? Oh my, that’s a fair size, that is. Big enough for a king, and that’s for sure.’ She looked up at him with admiration in her face and awe in her voice, though she was trying not to notice that perhaps his trousers had been meant for a somewhat smaller Giant.
‘Well, if I don’t get me fed, I’ll be shrinking down to your size, I should think.’ He groaned, and he rubbed his great hard belly.
‘Now, Sire, if I may be so bold as to tell you something, if you’re off to the Weighing of The King ceremony, then you’re on the wrong road for sure.’
‘But, I ain’t….’ Belloom stopped then, as a thought occurred to him. ‘What’s a Weighing of The King thingy, then?’
‘Well, of course you know that the current king has reigned for 1 year, come next Thursday, and It’s now time to pick a new king.’
Belloom nodded along with her as if he was fully conversant with the situation.
‘And, of course you know that the heaviest Giant is chosen to be king, and there can hardly be a heavier Giant than the one standing before me.’
‘Well now,‘ began Belloom, slowly, ‘I was thinking of going, but…’
‘You will need to go back on yourself for half a day or so, I should think, and then turn left at the Blasted Oak, and that will take you across to Rizor’s Edge, which will take you over to Bellend, where the ceremony will be held. I hear there will be free food and ale aplenty; well, that’s what I heard, anyways.’
‘Oh, I knows the Blasted Oak. It’s got a pointy, broken branch just so high, and it’s good for scratching yourself in the middle of the back, it is.’
‘So, are you going?’ There was a sudden sharpness to her tone that unnerved him more than a little.
‘Well, I might, if there’s free food and ale, it can’t do no harm, can it? And, if they want to weigh me while I’m there, I won’t be saying no, will I?’ He smiled then, and patted his belly, as if in anticipation of the coming free food.
Ellaine studied him for a moment.
‘You should have a squire. Do you know a Giant who is…,’ she was tempted to say ‘not stupid.’
‘Do you now a Giant who is quick with his wits and his tongue?’
‘Why, what does a squire do?’
‘He’ll represent you and speak for you.’
‘I can speak well enough myself, or I don’t know what I’ve been doing these past few minutes.
‘People respect Giants with squires.’
‘Oh, I see. I could ask Ferrooll. He likes to talk, he does. And his food. And his ale.’
‘Well, that sounds a good enough idea then, Sire. But you should be off soon enough now. You don’t have much time. You need to be there by Wednesday, and you don’t want to be late.’
‘What day is it now?’
‘It’s been Monday since I got up this morning.’
‘Monday? Are you sure? I remember Friday, and I think there’s some days in between, and I don’t remember them at all, I don’t.’
‘Never mind that; you should go and find Ferrooll.’
‘Yes, little woman, I’ll be off now to do that, and next time you see me, you can call me King Belloom.’
‘Yes, Sire.’ She bowed, and watched him on his way back up the road.
‘Have I done enough?’ she wondered, softly.
Rizer’s Edge was the only way from the land groaning under the weight of the Trytors’ rule, if you wanted to go south towards Hesselton and the sea.
Unless the Trytor had already passed his way through.
Chapter 2 Boys
The three boys sat close together in the palace courtyard, speaking quietly so as not to be overheard by Miss Bright, the one-time nursemaid of the prince’s son. What her role or title might be now was unclear to the boys.
‘Did ye get any sleep at all?’ asked Gorge, with his eyes on Miss Bright.
‘Not a second,’ grunted Sam, with his eyes half closed.
‘What about tonight? Will you get some rest tonight?’
‘Same again, I reckon. Says it be good for the soul, he says, whatever use that might be to me.’
‘It can’t go on, Sam, not at all,’ said Tom, reaching a hand out to his friend.
‘Don’t see what else I can do, Tom.’
‘But your poor hands are red and blistered from cutting the tangleweed, and it don’t make no difference, does it Gorge?’
Gorge shook his head. He was the smallest of the three, with an unruly head of brown hair and a frame that looked less than capable of bearing his head.
‘They always say that if you cut tangleweed today, you can look forward to cutting it again tomorrow.’
‘You and your sayings, Gorge,’ said Sam, with a smile, ‘the words never make sense when I think back, but you always make them seem right.’
‘What about your pa, Tom? He’s due back soon, I think.’
‘Tomorrow, I reckon, unless fortune smiles on me and he stays away ‘til next week. But I won’t be here anyways.’ He leaned closer to Gorge, and Sam stood up and draped his arms over their shoulders.
‘I won’t be here, when he gets back, because there’s a boat in the harbour and she sails on the morn, and I mean to be onboard.’
‘Tom! You can’t leave like that!’ gasped Sam, loud enough to make Miss Bright look up from her knitting, with a sharp frown on her sharp face.
‘Well, I am, ‘cause I have to, don’t I, Gorge? You know.’
‘If you have to go, then you shouldn’t go alone,’ replied Gorge.
‘But…!’ In a fit of anger, Sam kicked a wooden ball that had been doing no harm to anyone.
It rolled across the courtyard and caught Miss Bright smartly on the shin.
‘Ouch!’ she snapped, her narrow eyes scanning the boys for the culprit.
‘Sorry, Miss Bright,’ said Sam, standing upright. He was a little taller and a little broader than his friends. And his worried frown could melt the frostiest of hearts.
‘Don’t worry too much about it,’ she said as she rolled the ball back to him.
‘He’s always pushing it too hard, he is,‘ said Tom, with a playful shove against Sam, ‘but he don’t mean it, do you Sam?’
Sam shrugged and tossed the ball ever so gently towards Gorge.
‘Is it dinnertime yet?’ he whispered to Gorge.
Gorge turned and took a quick look at the clock on the wall.
‘Only 10 minutes there, Sam,‘ he said, with a smile.
‘Oh, goo…’
The door to the courtyard burst open with a crash and a bang.
Miss Bright was already half way to her feet, with one hand clasped to her mouth
to stifle a scream, and the other making a fist to defend her charges.
A large man, dressed in dark clothes and a flowing cloak was standing in the doorway, his bearded face flushed and his eyes wide and staring at the boys.
‘What…!’ he snapped, as he stepped forward, allowing a taller, thinner, and altogether scruffier individual to follow him into the yard.
‘Oh, I see,’ said the thin man, ‘one or two more than we expected, I think.’ His voice was as thin and sly as his frame.
‘Shush,’ said the big man, to Miss Bright. ‘Make not a sound and you shall not be harmed.’
She struck him with her clenched fist, low on his cheek, and she raised her head to let out a scream that would bring all of the palace guards running to her aid.
It was with a look of great regret that he clubbed her to the ground.
‘You can never tell a woman anything,‘ said his associate, with his wide grin displaying his broken teeth. ‘That’s what I always say, Arthgren.’
Arthgren turned back to the boys. They were all huddled together, with fear in their eyes.
Boys! There should have been one boy. That was the instruction. ‘Break into the palace and take the boy and put him on a ship and sail away.’
Simple as that. What could go wrong? The palace guards had been as dopy and useless as they had expected, with more interest in their card games and their ale. It had been a simple matter to slip past them.
But now? What was to be done?
‘I could just slit the throats of two of them,’ said his companion, with his sharp knife already in his hand, and his tongue licking his lips. ‘Then there would only be the one boy.’
Arthgren shook his head. ‘Put your blade away there, Lipsich, you fool. You’re scaring the boys. And what if you killed the wrong one?’
Lipsich sighed, and then he ran his tongue along the side of his knife before he put it away.
‘What’s your name, Lad?’ Arthgren asked, looking directly into Sam’s face.