Misthaven: The Complete Trilogy

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Misthaven: The Complete Trilogy Page 17

by J Battle


  Time to take a little walk, he thought; time to stretch these old bones. Something strange was going on here, of that he was growing more and more certain.

  Could it be that, this time, Crawlord Elstar would be proven right at last? If that was ever to be the case, there was surely a fine reward due to his loyal servant.

  Chapter 36 Lord Richard

  ‘So, do you have a plan all worked out in your head, little Lord?’ said Ferrooll, his voice distorted by the food in his mouth. A Giant is only happy when he’s walking if he is also eating.

  Lord Richard turned his horse away from a hole in the road. ‘I was intending to work that out as we travelled. What more can you tell of the Trytors?’

  ‘Ah, now, we’re on the road and there is time for talk. What more can I tell you?’ His pulled his hand from the big sack he’d brought from Hesselton, and he was disconcerted to find it empty.

  ‘The Trytors were not always known in these parts. It is thought they came from the west, mayhap it was 2 or 3 hundred years ago, that we Giants first laid eyes on their ugly faces, and we didn’t like them then, as we don’t much like them now. There was something about them that weren’t right, not natural, if you like.’

  ‘What manner of creature are they, do you think?’

  ‘Well. I spoke about this, and I thought about it, and it seems to me that they were descended from a union of a human man and a female of the Elvenfolk, and that was before the fall of both, if you pardon my words.’

  ‘Do not worry on my behalf, friend, for am I well aware of Man’s diminished circumstances. We are no longer a force in the world; not the way we once were, if the old history books speak the truth, and the Elvenfolk have fared little better.’

  ‘Whatever good they might have had from their parents was lost, you can see that just by looking at them, if you haven’t got something better to be doing with yourself.’

  ‘Do they have any weaknesses we can take advantage of?’

  ‘Well, they are quick and strong, and I reckon they’ll take a deal of killing. If Belloom wasn’t up to the job, then we will need a deal of fortune on our side.’

  ‘Are they clever? It was hard to tell on the road, that day.’

  ‘Well, some might say, if you’re big and strong, you don’t have much need of brains. Well, I’ve heard it said of Giants, anyways.’

  ‘Will a blade cut them down, do you think?’

  ‘We’ll have to see, won’t we?’

  Richard fell silent, as he considered the Giant’s words. It was precious little information, he thought, to develop an effective strategy. There must be some way to defeat a Trytor.

  He glanced at the massive hands and bulging shoulders of the Giant beside him. Mayhap that will be enough, he thought.

  **********

  Lancer marched up the palace steps, with a long twig in one hand and the disc of flowers he had created attached to his other arm by a loop of flowers.

  ‘Stand aside, piffling guards, for I have business with the king.’ He prodded the nearest guard in the belly with his twig, and held up his flowers to protect him from any violent response.

  The guard brushed away his weapon with one hand.

  ‘Good morning, your highness,’ he said, with something of smile.

  ‘Sssh!’ snapped Lancer. ‘I travel under a cloak of secrecy, and none shall know my name.’

  ‘Very well, Prin…stranger. Would you care to accompany me?’

  ‘I…yes, It seems to be a good idea. You know your associate here,’ he added, indicating the next guard in line, ‘he could use some polish on his armour, I‘d say.’

  ‘I’ll have words with him, as soon as I return. What would you have me call you, your…sir?’

  ‘Call me Lancer the Dancer, if you like, for I am as light on my feet as the man in the moon.’

  ‘Very well, Lancer the Dancer, I’ll lead you to a comfortable waiting room, where you shall have refreshments and comfort.’

  ‘Thank you for the offer, but do I look as if I have time to be waiting. I need to see the king, and I mean to see him now. So, run on, and clear the way, and announce me, if you like.’

  ‘But…’ The guard cleared his throat. ‘If you say so, but, if I announce you as Lancer the Dancer, you are unlikely to be given audience.’

  ‘You may call me by my real name, then. I’d hope to be safe in the king’s audience chamber.’

  The guard nodded, and them he rushed off to do as instructed.

  Lancer took a firm grip on his stick, and he dropped the unravelling shield on the floor; the stick would have to do, he thought, as he set off to follow the guard.

  He reached the end of the corridor just in time to hear the guard’s voice.

  ‘Sire, my lords and ladies, clergymen and women of the land, I present Prince Raffold of Hersog and Ele, Lord of Elec and Duran, Protector of Haslin, Deckle and Lay, now returned to us in good health and manner.’ Catching sight of Lancer, he bowed and gestured for him to enter.

  ‘I think they’ll know who you are, your Highness,’ he whispered, as Lancer walked past him, with his head held high and a suddenly regal tone to his posture.

  Lancer ignored the mumblers and whisperers that lined the walls. He focused his attention on the throne at the far end of the long room.

  ‘Brother,‘ he said, his voice loud and resonant, ‘clear the room if you will, for we must talk.’

  The king recovered quickly from his initial shock at the sight of his brother, not seen these many years.

  ‘Brother, what sort of greeting is that to give your king?’ he stepped from the throne and walked to the edge of the dais.

  ‘No, ‘how have you been since I left’, no, ‘sorry for leaving in such a manner,’ no bowing to the king.’

  Lancer ignored his words as he rushed along, forgetting that he was still holding the stick.

  There was the dry, dragging sound of swords being pulled from their scabbards as two esteemed members of the King’s Honour Guard leapt between Lancer and the throne.

  ‘Lower your weapon, sir, or rue the consequences,‘ said the first guard, dressed in the smartest of uniforms and with a feather in his cap.

  Lancer halted and looked down at his ‘weapon’.

  ‘But, it is merely twig, sir,‘ he said, slowly. ’Surely no harm can come to man nor beast from such a thing.’

  ‘Nevertheless.’

  ‘Leave him be, man. Can’t you see that he is more threat to himself than he is to anyone else?’ The king’s voice rang out, calm and full of authority.

  The guards stepped back, and allowed him to approach the throne, even armed as he was.

  ‘So, brother,’ said the king, stepping down to meet him. ‘You are a welcome sight, after all this time.’

  ‘Ah now, brother, or king I should rightly call you, you knew full well where I was.’

  The king was puzzled for a moment, but then he shrugged and wrapped his long arms around his brother.

  ‘Will you let a man breath?’ gasped Lancer.

  The king released him. ‘Ah, you were never one for hugs, I remember now, I do. Now, come along and take a drink with me.’

  ‘Brother-King, I have urgent business with you, will you clear the hall?’

  The king laughed. ‘These are my courtiers. It is their right and duty to know what we do, for the consequent actions may rest on their shoulders.’ For no apparent reason, the king flicked one hand to the right.

  ‘Very well, then I must ask a boon of you, brother. You must give urgent aid to…’

  ‘Must? Must? Must!’ The king’s voice had grown hoarse, and rose with each rendition of the word. ‘You say must to your king! And you still do not bow!’

  White spit glisten on his chin, and his eyes jerked here and there.

  ‘Brother…’

  ‘Bend your knee to your king, man.’

  Lancer studied his brother for a moment, his concern evident to any who cared to observe.

  ‘Ver
y well, my king,’ he said, as he knelt on the cold marble floor.

  ‘See! That wasn’t hard, was it?’ The king laughed, and placed one hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘So, who is to be aided at your request?’ The coarseness had gone from his voice, and his eyes remained fixed on Lancer.

  ‘Lord Richard of Hesselton, sire.’

  ‘Richard? But…he was here, I think. Yes, I remember he was here, wasn’t he? No, wait a second there. No, he wasn’t here. He was supposed to be here. He said he’d come, and then he sent his man in his place. I think I’m right there, am I?’ The more he spoke, the more hesitant he became.

  ‘Yes, sire. Tragedy befell him on the road; his wife and child were slaughtered. He could not fulfil his duty to you in such circumstances.’

  ‘That’s terrible! He must be distraught at the loss of his beloved wife; they were so devoted. But, hang on there a moment.’ He glanced at the lords and ladies lining the walls. ‘Wait now whilst I think on it. Yes, he came, his man, and…I was insulted. I remember now. I was insulted, so I sent him away with harsh words of rebuke. No, I didn’t send him away, I had him beaten. Beaten to within an inch of his life, I did.’

  His right hand flicked to the left, and his eyes joined it, as if there was something hiding in the shadows that only he could see.

  ‘I remember everything now. He shouldn’t have done it, brother. Not to his king, when he should have been honouring him. Nothing comes before your king; nothing. He should have known that, he should.’

  ‘Sire, would you care for a drink, to calm you?’ said Lancer, as he stood up.

  ‘Calm me? What need do I have of calm? I am the king, and the world bends to my will, calm or not.’

  ‘Perhaps we should talk of other things, brother. Until you are…ready to hear my request.’

  The king’s head jerked, and both arms spasmed.

  With a sigh, he sat on his throne and closed his eyes, and his body became still.

  There was silence in the hall, as everyone waited to see what would happen next. Lancer called the guard who’d spoken earlier over to him.

  ‘Clear the room, will you? He shouldn’t be in full view of these…people, when he is feeling…unwell.’

  The guard glanced at the king, and then he spoke a few words to the other guards and they began to clear the room.

  When they were alone, apart from the guards, Lancer sat down beside the throne, and he waited for his brother to find himself once more.

  After an age, the king grunted and sat upright on his throne.

  ‘So, Raffy, you’re back.’

  ‘Yes, brother, I am. And…you seem more yourself.’

  The king smiled, in a sad way. ‘Ay, brother, I am, for now.’

  ‘Can the soothers do nothing for you? To ease your condition.’

  ‘They wave their sticks, and sing their songs, and they blow blue smoke into my face. If it does any good at all, then I can’t see it. So now, while you can, ask for your request. You mentioned Richard, I think. It’s a sad business, indeed.’

  ‘I believe he intends to wreak his vengeance on the Trytor who slew his family, and for that, he will need your assistance, sire.’

  ‘Don’t call me ‘Sire’, you old fool, I’m your brother, not your father!’

  ‘Still, due respect and all that.’

  ‘I will send him a party of soldiers to aid him in his quest, how does that sound?’

  ‘I think that will be just what he wants, brother.’

  ‘There you are then. That was easy enough, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes, brother, easy as easy is, as they say in lands where they say stupid things.’

  ‘Hah, now, I’ve been there myself, I think, and I didn’t feel out of place, I didn’t.’

  Lancer felt so pleased to see his brother in such good form. He rustled in his bag for a moment.

  ‘I brought you a present, brother, seeing as you didn’t come for it, when you said you would.’

  With a ‘ta dah!’ expression on his face, he held up his offering to the king.

  ‘It’s a pie,’ he said, with absolute joy in his voice.

  Chapter 37 Ferrooll

  Ferrooll stopped at the blasted tree and scratched his back against its bent branches.

  ‘It’s true enough, what Belloom always said, you know. There ain’t a better place in the land to scratch your back.’

  Lord Richard smiled at his antics and climbed down from his horse.

  ‘Rizer’s Edge, it’s a terrible place now to me.’

  ‘Ay, lad, it is to me too. I lost a good friend on this road.’

  ‘How long had you known him?’

  ‘Ah now, there’s a question, right enough. Let me see, I weren’t full grown, I’d say that for certain, and neither was he, though he was big enough already. Now, that makes it…It was before the Big Freeze, I know that, cause he got himself stuck in the snow, and I had to dig him out, and he was a drunk as a drunken Giant can be, and that is plenty drunk.’

  Richard shook his head. ‘I thought it would be a simple question.’

  ‘Now, don’t you worry about that. If you ask a question of a Giant, then you are going to get yourself an answer, no matter if it takes a while.’

  ‘We have time.’

  ‘So, before the Freeze, but after The Flood, because I don’t remember having to drag him out of the water, and you can be sure that someone would have had to, he were that clumsy.’

  He scratched his head and shook his empty sack, in the forlorn hope that it might be somewhat less empty than the last time he looked.

  ‘Yes, I have it now. I’ve known old fool Belloom for 120 years, add a few, lose a few. That sounds about right to me, it does.’

  ‘That is a long time. I share your grief for the loss.’

  ‘Ah now, don’t mistake me. We weren’t walking hand in hand all those years. There were times when I didn’t see him for years. But, if I ever felt the need to have myself a laugh at a fool of a Giant then I knew if I found him, he wouldn’t let me down.’

  ‘You mock him, Ferrooll, but you are here to avenge his death, so he must have meant something to you.’

  ‘Is that what we are doing? Avenge his death? It’s a nice set of words, and, I don’t know, it makes me…well, it just seems the right thing to do. And I ain’t killed a Trytor, and I don’t know any Giant who has, so that will do for me, without getting all soppy, with leaky eyes the way I seen humans do.’

  Richard patted him on the arm, in an attempt to comfort him.

  ‘So, are we going to stand around here talking nonsense all day, or are we going to get on with this?’ said Ferrooll, brusquely.

  ‘I think we’ll walk along for a while to give the horse a rest, and I want to talk about this plan of yours. Are you sure you really want to do this? It will put you at serious risk.’

  ‘Now, Lord, don’t you be worrying about me. I’m a Giant, and I’m very hard to hurt, never mind kill.’

  ‘They killed Belloom.’

  Ferrooll shook his great shaggy head. ‘That wouldn’t have happened if he’d had both arms, and both fists to fight with.’ He lifted his fists up to demonstrate.

  They were close to 20 inches across, and Richard was impressed.

  ‘If you are sure?’

  ‘Listen to me, now. He won’t come for a little man, but he’ll come for a Giant, you can be sure as a man who’s been sure all his life, you can.’

  Richard studied him for a moment. The Giant spoke slowly, he thought, and used three words when one would suffice, and he seemed to understand little about human ways, but he was bright enough for all that. And he would be worth a brigade of soldiers in a fight.

  ‘Come on, friend,‘ he said, ‘let us be on our way, and see if we can teach him a lesson.’

  ‘A lesson? I don’t want to educate him, I want to…now wait a minute, I know the word I want, but it ain’t coming to me of its own will, like.’

  Richard waited quietly whilst he s
truggled with the word.

  ‘I know! I’ve got it now. I knew it would come if I screwed up my eyes and ground my teeth together.’

  They walked on in silence for a little longer.

  ‘What was the word?’ asked Richard, when he couldn’t wait any longer.

  ‘I knew you’d ask,’ laughed the Giant, ‘if I made you wait long enough. I don’t want to educate the Trytor, I want to eradicate him.’

  ‘Yes indeed,’ said Richard, and he smiled, for it was hard not to smile in the Giant’s company.

  **********

  ‘Now Cavour, I have a task for you, if you will deign to serve.’

  Cavour sat before the Trytor, with his pipe in his hand, and he made no comment. With a flick of the fire stick, he lit his pipe, and when it was ready, he took a long draw.

  ‘You know this, Cavour. I would not take this insolence from any other human. Why should I take it from you?’

  ‘Beg your pardon, Lord Lydorth, but this is not insolence, nothing like,’ he answered, slowly, and took another drag.

  ‘It’s just a poor tired man who reckons he needs a bit of a smoke before he does his duty to his master.’

  ‘Ah now, Cavour, is there mockery there, hidden behind that slow voice?’

  ‘If it seems so, that it is not intended, for what about a Trytor would a poor man find to mock?’

  ‘Your task; you could ask about your task.’ The Trytor leant forward a little in his ornate throne, towering over the man.

  ‘Of course, my Lord. What would you have me do?’

  ‘That’s better. You show a modicum of interest, at least.’

  ‘Every word you speak, Lord, is of equal importance to me.’

  ‘Good. That’s just what I…your words sound respectful, but their content is somewhat less than I would like.’

  ‘My task, Lord Lydorth? I am eager to fulfil your every wish. Is that more to your liking, my Lord?’

  ‘You test me, man, and that is not wise, but I’ll put that to one side for now. I have heard of a book that I would like you to seek out and buy for me. You will have to travel some distance for it, and they may not want to accept your coin, but I’m sure you can be persuasive.’

 

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