by J Battle
Fleur was about to say, ‘thank you kindly, sir,’ and perhaps she would have curtseyed a little, but Meldon struck him dead in his tracks, with a quick gesture and a few muttered, unintelligible words.
‘Oh…that wasn’t nice. I quite liked him.’
‘Shush, woman. Go back to the party and have a drink or a dance or something. Try your hardest not to sleep with anyone whilst I’m gone.’
She pulled him to her and smacked an enthusiastic kiss on his surprised lips.
‘I’m your courtesan now, Meldon babe, and my legs are closed to everyone else, and that’s the truth, it is. Unless you want to try something a little more, shall we say…exotic?’ The twinkle in her eye and the huskiness in her voice could have brought a dead man to a stand, but Meldon had other things to worry about.
‘I’ll see you later,’ he called, and he rushed along the corridor as quickly as his dignity as the Regent of Fairisle would allow.
Moments later he was standing and cussing over the broken door.
‘How did he get out?’ he said, when he’d gained control of himself. ‘Does he still have Magic?’
He leapt over the pile and rushed along the corridor.
‘I know just where to find him,‘ he said, as he took the stairs two at a time, ‘and I can laugh in his face, I can.’
The door was wide open, and the table was as empty as he’d left it, but so was the room.
‘Where have you got to, dear little prince?’ He laughed as he left the room. ‘I’ll find you soon enough, I will. You can’t escape me; no, you can’t.’
The prince was much closer than he would have thought, hidden behind a secret panel in the wall of the Wellstone room.
He listened to Meldon’s words as he rushed out, and perhaps he would have smiled, as he was sitting at the top of a ladder that would enable his escape. But, he didn’t have the strength to make the climb, and he didn’t have his Wellstone, and his son was lost to him. So, there was precious little for him to smile about.
Chapter 49 Jimmywood
Jimmywood followed the invisible route beneath the water, his trusty staff letting him know when the path changed its course. The sound his sloshing feet made as he walked seemed unnaturally loud in the claustrophobic envelope of mist all around him; he was certain that whoever was on the other side would hear him coming.
At last the mist faded. Jimmywood could not have said if it was five or twenty-five minutes that he’d been on the water, but now he could see its end. Perhaps thirty feet from him, the dark water lapped up to a low stone wall. He stopped; the moonlight clearly showing a round figure atop the wall, directly in his path.
He started walking again, for what else was there for him to do?
‘Ho, stranger.’ A deep voice boomed across the water. ‘What business have you here?’
Jimmywood made no answer; he just kept walking.
‘Stop there, stranger, until we know your purpose.’ The figure adjusted his stance and there was the whisper of metal on metal. Jimmywood looked up to see that the man now carried a blade in each hand.
‘I mean no harm,’ he said, as he paused before the three steps that climbed the wall.
‘Then state your business and be judged.’
‘I bring a warning, and I will not be judged by one such as you, if you will forgive my plain words.’
‘What is the nature of your warning?’
‘Why, that you are found out of course. I see your secret. I have divined what you seek to hide, and it is all over for you.’
‘What do you think we hide, stranger? Please tell us for you have us amused and puzzled.’ A new voice, feminine and confident, and infused with humour.
‘Perhaps it is wisest not to shout my answer for all to hear. Perhaps I may be allowed to leave this cold water, lest I catch a chill, and speak to you face to face.’
‘I see no true benefit to us from inviting you to step onto our land, what do you think, Jefro?’
Jefro grunted and swung his blades around by way of explanation.
‘Step up and let us take a good look at you, Jimmywood, if you please,’ said the female voice, after a moment’s pause.
He took the first step before he paused. ‘You know my name?’
‘Of course we know your name, Jimmywood.’
He puffed out his cheeks and shook his head, then he began to climb the steps.
‘Make no sudden movements if you value your life, Jimmywood.’
A creature moved across the grass towards him, its figure low and sinuous. Its green eyes held his as it moved closer. Some sort of cat he thought; black and as big as a man.
‘Don’t pay any mind to Raarwoar, she’s as gentle as a kitten, if you have good fortune on your side.’
‘And if I do not?’
‘Let’s not think on that, Jimmywood. No, not at all.’
The black cat sniffed him for a moment and then dismissed him from her thoughts as she slunk away.
‘How do you know my name?’ He stepped on to the cool, damp grass.
‘You think you can just walk through our town and not be noticed? What fools you must think we are?’
‘No, forgive me, I do not think you fools; nothing like that at all. But I do have urgent business here. You must be warned. Will you take me to someone of power who will be able to act on my warning?’
She moved forward from the shadows and stood beside the large round man who’d kept his silence since she first spoke. He also kept his blades on display.
Jimmywood’s jaw dropped. It was the lady he’d watched as she set off across the water. Her hood was down; her hair was black as the sky.
She pulled a face. ‘You stink of the weed, Jimmywood. Is that what drives you? Is that the price of your soul?’
‘I merely seek to save you from the attention of the Elvenfolk.’
She held his eyes for a moment, then she glanced at her companion.
‘The Elvenfolk, you say? We have heard that they have returned; that their long and fruitless search for Magic has led them to these lands, but they know nothing of us.’
‘They know more than you think, my Lady. And they seek to know more.’
‘Come Jimmywood, walk with me. We must talk. You raise grave concerns in my heart.’ She turned and pulled her hood over her head. She began to walk, her bare feet caressing the damp grass.
Jimmywood started after her, cold and wet through, and suddenly aware that the last of his harroweed was ruined by his dip in the reservoir.
‘Who knows?’ she asked when he caught up with her.
‘Only Crawlord Elstar suspects.’
‘Suspects or knows?’
‘It is all the same to him. What he suspects, what he believes, what he knows. They are all the truth in his mind. And he believes that you have Magic; therefore, to him, it is the truth.’
‘What about the others? There are others are there not? He is not alone?’
‘Not alone, no you are correct. There are many others; the forest beyond those hills is infested with them. But he is alone in his knowledge. They mock him for his obsession with finding Magic. Though they move around the land, from place to place, in their hearts they know the truth. They see that Magic has gone from the world, and they are filled with woe, for they are diminished, and childless. But not Crawlord Elstar; he sees another future.’
‘And the plan was that you would prove him right in his delusion and then he would lead his newly convinced brethren to acquire this imaginary Magic?’
‘I believe you speak of the Wellstone, my Lady.’
‘An ancient stone of Magic and Power? Now lost to the world? I believe I have heard fairytales of such, as a child.’
‘Now you treat me as a child, my Lady.’
They walked in silence for a moment.
Jimmywood was suddenly aware that they were not alone. He half turned, and there was the cat, slinking along behind them.
‘Oh, that gave me a fright,‘ he said, ‘does
she follow you everywhere you go?’
She laughed. ‘Oh, Jimmywood, you misunderstand. She is not following me; she follows you.’
He stopped in his tracks. She did the same.
‘Let me speak truthfully and clearly, my Lady.’
‘Please do.’
‘I came here under the orders of the crawlord, and my intention was to betray your secrets. That was my intention, and I have worked for him for many years. I am well paid in coin and weed, and, for all those years, I have had no need for honour. But I want to put that life behind me, and become again the man I once was. Will you help me in this difficult task?’
‘Speak plainer, Jimmywood.’ In the shadow of her hood, her eyes seemed to gleam.
‘I will give my warning to those who need to know. Then I will leave, and return to the crawlord and tell him that he is once again wrong. That there is no Magic here.’
‘You would be speaking no more than the truth.’
‘But it will not end there, my Lady, for he will try again. He will push me to one side and use others to seek out the secret, and perhaps they will be more adept at hiding their true intentions than I have proved to be.’
‘So, you come, and you see what we have here, and then we let you leave? Is that how you see things turning out, sir? You still believe us fools.’
‘No, not at all. There is one other possible solution to your problem. A solution that will turn the crawlord’s attention away from you forever, to leave you in peace.’
‘Oh, Jimmywood, are you really going to ask? Even the children of this land will laugh when they hear this folly.’
He reached out and took her elbow in his hand. He stared into her eyes.
‘Believe me, my Lady. This is the only way to save yourself, and your people. I would have nothing bad happen to you, my Lady, if I can presume to care.’
‘So, Jimmywood, say the words and I will try not to mock you.’
‘My Lady, you must allow me to take the Wellstone away with me.’
‘Shall I slit his throat now, Lady Alice?’ His head was jerked back by his hair and the words were hissed into his ear.
‘No Jefro, not yet at least, whilst there is still more chance of amusement to be had.’
Jefro released his hold, leaving him to stagger to one side. He turned to see that it was the round man from the reservoir.
‘I did not hear you follow us,’ he said, as he tried to calm down the sudden fear that had threatened to overwhelm him.
‘No? Well, you wouldn’t, would you?’
‘Jefro can be like a shadow when he wants to,’ she smiled at the large man, ‘a rather heavy shadow, of course.’
She sighed; her eyes flicking from Jimmywood to Jefro to the cat.
‘Alright; enough of this nonsense. Jefro, I want you to make haste to the mage’s house. He must be informed of the situation, and you must make it clear to him that he must act.’
‘But…’
‘I am well aware Jefro that this in itself is not an easy task, but I am confident that you will succeed. What day is it?’
‘It is the twenty-fifth day of the moon’s cycle, my Lady.’
‘Is it that late? That is not good; not good at all. But, can we wait for the new moon? When do you meet your master, Jimmywood?’
Made nervous by her sudden change in tone, he replied. ’Tomorrow as the sun fades.’
‘And where do you meet?’
‘He is always eager for my news, Lady Alice. Did I catch your name right there? As we’ve not been properly introduced, like.’
She nodded, but said no more.
‘Anyways, as I was saying, so he does not wait for me to get to his home; he lingers on the edge of the forest, where it meets the road. When he spies me arriving, he rushes out to discover what I have found, even though he does not much like the light of day, and rarely cares for the answer he obtains.’
‘Go, Jefro, make haste,’ said Alice, touching his arm gently. ‘We have little time. Go and be persuasive.’
‘Yes, Lady Alice, I will do what I can. But be wary of this man; I do not trust him.’
As he rushed off into the darkness, Alice turned back to Jimmywood.
‘He does not trust you, and he is a good judge, though it may happen that we will have to place our trust in your hands. How should that go, Jimmywood? Does treachery flow through your veins, or does one last vestige of honour still remain?’
Staring into her shining eyes, he found that he had no answer for her, or for himself.
*********
When he awoke, Rootheart’s hands were still clasped to the stone.
'What...? What did you do to me?' he grunted, glaring at the stone in his hands.
Anders came into the rocky chamber, moving with a confident grace that those who knew him would find it strange to see.
'Have no fear my friend, the worst is over, and your great strength has sustained you. All will now be well, believe me, for I speak nothing but the honest truth. You will trust me on that, will you not?'
'But I can't let go of this evil thing!'
'Hush now Rootheart. Do not stress yourself so. There is no evil here; no more than anywhere else. Evil is as evil does, as they say. The Wellstone is not evil, though I’m sure that evil may be done with it, for certain. But, in itself, it is merely hungry for life. And now it is satiated.'
'Will I never be free of it? Did you know what would happen? Is this why you brought me along? This feels like evil to me, it does. '
Anders could see the anger brewing in the half-giant's eyes.
'Do not worry, my friend. The Stone will release you when we return to Misthaven, where we will rule together in power and justice.'
Rootheart scowled. 'What is this Misthaven? I ain’t never heard of such a place.'
Anders laughed. 'Exactly, my friend. That is the whole idea.'
Chapter 50 Ferrooll
‘Should you be drinking all that ale?’
Ferrooll turned his head a little.
‘What do you mean, little bar-lady?’
‘You’re standing against a Trytor at noon, if I’ve heard it right?’
‘Ay, if he has the courage.’
‘Then, you heard my question, I think.’
‘I heard the words, but I didn’t catch your meaning, I didn’t.’
‘If you’re to fight the Trytor, you should be keeping your wits about you.’
‘No…’ He scratched his head with the hand that wasn’t holding a tankard. ‘Still not catching it. My wits are here in my head, so I reckon I can’t see where else they could be.’
The bar-woman sighed, and then she replaced his empty tankard with one more to his liking.
‘I’m just saying. You should be drinking tealeaf instead. I always have a nice cup of tealeaf before I do something that might be difficult.’
‘Tealeaf? I ain’t never had tealeaf. Is it like ale?’
‘No, you big oaf! It ain’t like ale. It’s like…well it’s like tealeaf, that’s what it is, and it will do you better than all that ale, it will.’
Ferrooll smiled at her, and she was quite taken aback, for a Giant’s smile is an uncommon sight to behold, especially when he’s sitting on the floor and his face is only a couple of feet from yours.
‘I’ll have a tankard or two of your best tealeaf then, little bar-lady.’
‘It don’t come in a tankard, it comes in a cup.’
‘Why don’t it come in a tankard? Won’t it fit?’
‘It comes in a cup.’
‘A cup? I seen one of them. Tiny things you cain’t get your little finger in.’
He held up one finger which, from its position on his hand, was clearly his little finger, though it hardly matched such a description.
‘I’ll get you a mug,’ she said, with just a hint of sharpness.
She returned five minutes later with a brace of steaming mugs.
‘I brought you two, ‘cause I didn’t reckon one would do
.’
Ferrooll studied the mugs for a moment.
‘Are they hot? They look hot, with all that…what do ye call it? Smoke, that’s what it is.’
‘It’s steam, not smoke. They’re hot. Not on fire.’
‘How do you drink a hot drink?’
‘Carefully.’
Ferrooll tossed the contents of the first mug down his throat.
‘Ahh!’ he gasped, as he reached for the second.
‘That weren’t careful.’
‘Careful? I heard the word a couple of times lately, but I cain’t quite remember what it means, for sure.’ He punctuated his words by sending the second mug of tea after its predecessor.
‘Ahh! Now that’s good, that is little Miss bar-lady. I’ll have a hogshead of that, if you please.’
‘It don’t come in a hogshead. It comes in a tealeaf pot, it does.
‘Well, I’ll have a dozen pots, and a dozen tankards of ale to keep my mouth nice and cold.’
‘Who’s paying for all that?’
‘You have all my coin.’
‘So?’
Now, if a smile is something to see from a Giant when he’s close, a frown is something you don’t want to see when he is close enough to bite your head right off.
She backed away smartly, and said, ’Never you mind about that, Mr Giant. We’s glad to have you here, and we won’t be charging you nothing, we won’t.’
Then she was gone, with sudden business in the back room.
Ferrooll nodded. ‘It’s only right, my dear. Only right.’
A young lad, with untidy hair and clothes to match, burst into the room just then, gasping with the excitement of it all.
‘He’s coming up the road, he is,’ he said, and he stopped, stunned, at his first sight of the Giant.
‘Is it noon, little human child?’ asked Ferrooll, softly. ’I can’t tell if you’re a boy child or a girl child.’
‘I’s a boy!’ snapped the affronted boy. ‘And, if it ain’t noon, it’s near enough so it don’t matter to a horse with no eyes.’