Misthaven: The Complete Trilogy

by J Battle

  ‘Take me to the mainland,’ said the prince, and he stared ahead.

  When Meldon had supposed that the prince would give up the Wellstone for his son, he wasn’t far from the truth.

  The prince knew that the Stone was lost to him, and that he no longer had the strength to pit himself against Meldon and win it back. So, here he was, sailing away from Fairisle, perhaps for the last time. He didn’t look back as the boat left the small harbor in the quiet early evening. For Fairisle was no longer his concern, and there was some satisfaction to be had from that, he thought.

  No, the mainland was where his thoughts would focus, because there, he was sure, he would find his son.

  Somehow, in his weakened state, and with Magic a mere memory, that was all that seemed to matter to him.

  **********

  Mage Evens wandered through his rooms, pottering about; performing aimless tasks, for sleep was a stranger to him. This night, and so many nights before.

  One room he avoided in his night-time meanderings was the Room of Power and Solace. Such a silly name, he thought. Was there really a time when he’d been that pompous? Still, it was the home of the Wellstone, and he could avoid it for another three days yet, if his calendar spoke the truth.

  He was the mage and the years, the responsibility, and of course, the Stone’s still eager hunger weighed heavily on his thin shoulders. He’d had the mirrors removed from the tower many years earlier; not caring to see what all of this taking had done to his face.

  He paused outside the Stone’s room. He wasn’t going inside; not tonight, but he could feel it beginning to rouse itself; its hunger beginning to grumble away deep inside. When the new moon came, it would require to be fed.

  As he did at this time each month, he wondered if he would have the strength, and the will to bring himself to lay his old hands on the surface of the voracious Stone. There would come a time when his strength failed and he would be unable to climb from his bed, and the valley would have to accept the consequences.

  Already his growing weakness, and that of the Stone also, was beginning to leave Misthaven with a reduced guard. The cold wind from the mountains that had always been diverted by the power of his will now blew untamed through the valley. In his pomp the barrier that he had raised to hide the land was so strong that strangers could not even bring themselves to look in the direction of the valley; their eyes would somehow be diverted elsewhere. Now the only defense he could raise to protect Misthaven from possible attack was the wall of mist that surrounded the land and a weak emanation of disinterest, so that, if anyone actually noticed the mist, they would hardly care what was behind it.

  His musings were interrupted by loud urgent banging on the doors below him.

  ‘Who rouses an old man from his slumber at this time of the night?’ he muttered as he made his way to the stairs. ‘Oh, but you weren’t asleep, were you old fool? So that’s alright then, is it not?’

  ‘Oh, shut up you, old fool!’ he said, to himself, as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

  The door was shaking from the constant banging.

  ‘Who dares the wrath of the one and true mage?’ he called through the door.

  ‘Pardon me, your…Mageness, sorry to disturb you, but there is trouble about the land tonight.’

  ‘Trouble? What trouble cannot await the morn?’

  ‘If you would be so kind as to open the door, my Lord Mage, then perhaps I could explain.’

  ‘Have you tried the Mayor? He’s a much younger man, and more able to deal with trouble of the night.’

  ‘I am afraid that he will just not do tonight. For this particular trouble, none but the mage himself can obtain a …desired conclusion, if you like, Sir.’

  ‘But I am in my nightclothes.’

  ‘Don’t worry, your Majesty, I will not be embarrassed.’

  ‘I’ll just go and retrieve my gown; can you return in an hour?’

  ‘I don’t think we have an hour. I would ask you to let me in now, if you forgive my impoliteness.’

  ‘Oh, well, in that case, I suppose that I must oblige and open the door.’

  ‘Yes, your Mageness, thank you, your Mageness.’

  ‘I’ll just go and get my gown.’

  On the other side of the door Jefro groaned and leaned his forehead against the door.

  He waited in that position for a couple of minutes, then he stepped away and stretched out his arms, yawning. Then he unslung his bow and checked its tautness. When he was happy with the twang, he counted the arrows in his quiver; and then he counted them again for good fortune. He took out his blades and his sharpening stone and went to work.

  By the time the door was opened, he felt that he had an excellent edge on both weapons.

  ‘What is the urgent need that brings you here tonight, young man?’

  ‘Let us go inside out of the cold, Your Mageness, and I will explain everything to you.’

  Inside they found chairs by a roaring fire. ‘I thought you would be cold, so I took the time to light the fire for you. It is quite some time since I last had the pleasure of such a mundane task; I usually have someone come in and do this sort of thing for me. He’s a fine gentleman; I’m sure you would like him. He comes from good stock, fallen on hard times of course, but then, he is not alone.’

  ‘If we could get to the matter at hand, Your Mageness?’

  ‘The correct form of address to a mage is Lord, or Your Great Mightyness, if you are really looking for a favour.’

  ‘Thank you, Lord, I should have known. Now, let me tell you everything, if you would be so kind.’

  Jefro told the mage everything.

  ‘Fascinating, young man, and well worth the awakening of an old man.’

  He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, all the better to consider the appropriate reaction to the news.

  After a moment or so, he began to snore.

  Jefro tapped him on the knee.

  ‘What, what? Oh you are still here. I must apologise; it is the heat from the fire I believe.’

  ‘We need to act, Lord, and act now, lest we be overrun with Elvenfolk.’

  ‘You are quite right, young man. Swift, decisive action is the order of the day. So, please let me know how the situation is resolved, but perhaps at a more suitable hour, what do you say?’

  ‘My Lord, surely you can see that only you can act in this matter? Only Magic will save the valley.’

  The mage sat forward and grabbed Jefro’s arm in a vicious grip. ‘Do you think this is easy? Do you think that I can just stroll into that room, call up Magic, save the day, and be back in my bed by dawn? Do you really think it is as easy as that?’

  ‘The Lady Alice said you would help, my Lord.’

  ‘The Lady Alice? Are we calling her a lady now? I thought she was but a child, but no, you are right, she looks all grown, she does. She’ll be looking for a man, I expect.’ He seemed to look away into the distance of the mind for a moment. ‘Ah, I remember, yes, I remember. But, I’ve no need to speak of such things to a young man such as you, still in your prime, with plenty of sap to go around, if you know of which I speak.’

  ‘My Lord, I would ask you not to speak of such things in reference to my Lady, and we have more urgent business. I must be forthright and blunt, Sir. We need your help. The land needs your help. And it must be done now.’

  The mage stood up, tall and angry. ‘You do not listen to my words, young man. So I will speak as plainly as you have done. On the new moon, I will bond with the Wellstone and renew its power over the land, for that is my duty, but I will not lay hands on it before; you do not know the cost.’

  ‘I know the cost to the land if we do not act. And I will act. I will take my blades and attempt to kill this evil elven creature, and if I fail, I will rue not my loss of life; it is the doom of this land that will fill my last thoughts. I ask one last and final time. Will you give us aid?’

  ‘You have my answer, young man. Go in peace and hope.
You honour your land.’

  Jethro rose and stood before the mage, his face red with anger and the heat from the fire.

  ‘Thank you for your time, my Lord,’ he snapped and then turned.

  ‘Wait.’ The mage’s hand touched his shoulder. ’I see that you are an archer. Do you have skill with a bow? Do you have strength to draw a bow that is a little more testing than the one you carry? Let me have you leave with a gift, if nothing else.’

  ‘I have little time, my Lord.’

  ‘Time spent wisely is hardly wasted, young man.’

  Chapter 54 Lord Richard

  Lord Richard knelt gasping over the bloody mess that was the dead Trytor, and he fought to keep his gorge from rising.

  ‘I…,’ he began, when he felt more in control of himself. ‘I…tripped. I fell and nearly missed him.’

  Ferrooll was sitting on the ground a few yards away. He lifted his head and exposed his devastated eyes to view.

  ‘Ferrooll!’ gasped Richard, as he jumped to his feet. ’What has he done to you?’ He put one hand on the Giant’s shoulder.

  ‘If I could see, Lord, then I might be able to tell you,’ grunted Ferrooll, ‘but I don’t reckon I’ll be doing that now, will I?’

  Richard reached out towards the knife buried in his friend’s eye-socket, but he stopped before he touched it. Would it do more damage if he pulled it out?

  ‘We need to get you to a soothnurse, or a doctor if we can.’

  ‘I reckon you’ll do better getting them to me, than t’other way around. Because I can’t see where I’m going.’

  ‘Now, friend. Don’t worry. We’ll get…’

  The thunder of horses’ hooves drowned out what he might have said. Glancing over the Giant’s shoulder, he saw a band of horses racing down from the pass.

  ‘Them’s horses, aren’t they?’ asked Ferrooll, turning a little.

  ‘Why, it’s Lancer! Come to help at last,’ said Richard, with a tired smile.

  ‘He’s a bit late for supper, as they say, I reckon.’

  Lancer pulled his horse up with a little difficulty, as it seemed a little unsure of the bloody Giant.

  ‘Greetings, lord and Giant. We bring aid,’ announced Lancer, as he tried to stop his horse from backing into the horse carrying Owens. ’Though we seem a little late.’

  Owens steered his horse around Lancer and pulled up in front of Richard.

  He gestured with two fingers and two of his soldiers leapt from their horses.

  ‘Lord Richard of Hesselton, I hereby arrest you, under orders from the king. Do not resist; you will only make things worse if you do.’

  ‘What is going on here, Owens?’ snapped Lancer, suddenly in perfect control of his mount. ‘We are here to help Lord Richard in his mission, not arrest him.’

  ‘Forgive me, your Highness, but I have orders directly from the king. His exact words were, ‘bring him to me, and I will deal with his disrespect.’ Those were the words of the king, and I am bound to obey my orders.’

  ‘Come closer,’ said Ferrooll, in what might have passed as a whisper amongst Giant folk.

  Richard understood immediately and placed himself between the Giant’s great knees.

  ‘Anyone who tries to harm this little Lord,’ said Ferrooll, prodding at him blindly with a finger that made him stagger, ’well, I reckon I won’t let ‘em, I won’t. So, see what you think of that?’

  Owens climbed from his horse and he stood for a moment before the Giant.

  Then he drew his sword.

  ‘I’m sorry to do this, Giant, for I can see you are sorely hurt, but Lord Richard will come with me, or more harm will be done.’

  ‘Has he got a sword, there?’ asked Ferrooll, softly.

  ‘He has, and he is standing a little to the right of your right foot.’

  ‘I see, or I don’t see. Now, just to be sure, have I just moved my right foot, or my left foot?’

  ‘It was your left foot.’

  ‘Good, good. I was never sure of which was what. Now, if he’s got a sword, could you ask him to scratch my back with it? Because I’ve got an itch and I can’t reach it myself.’

  Lancer landed beside Owens, and laid his hand on his sword arm.

  ‘Let us stop this now, before anyone else gets all hurt, shall we?’

  ‘My orders are from the king,’ said Owens, his eyes fixed on Richard.

  ‘Ah, you say that, but which king would that have been? Was it the ‘before his breakfast king’ or, was it the ‘after lunch king?’ For you know they are different, as would your orders be. If it is the first, and he tells you to arrest Lord Richard, then you know the second will tell you to arrest a fish, and you could surely meet a third who’d want to marry you. You know this to be true?’

  ‘Ay, Your Highness, and it saddens me to say so, it does.’

  ‘Then think on it, man and see wisdom if you can.’

  Owens glared at Lancer for a moment, before he turned to study the Giant and Lord Richard. With a sigh, he returned his sword to its scabbard.

  ‘Now…’ he began, but he was interrupted by the clang of an awkward looking soldier of the Trytors, holding his sword before him by its blade and with his shield banging against his knees.

  ‘Excuse me, sir, and begging your pardon for interrupting your discussion with these fine men, sir, but…well, we surrender, sir, we do. All of us.’ He bowed when his words ran out.

  ‘We’re not at war, officer, so I cannot accept your surrender,’ replied Owens, with a sharp look at the crowd of mismatched soldiers gathering nearby.

  ‘Still, sir, we’d be obliged if you did. We’d come quietly and there’d be no trouble, not at all.’

  ‘I’m a military officer, and I could only arrest you if we were at war.’

  ‘But, we can’t go back. Not now you’ve killed them both. Ashlorn will blame us, he will.’

  ‘I would have thought he’d blame the Giant, and Lord Richard here.’

  ‘With Ashlorn, I reckon he’ll have plenty of blame to scatter round, like.’

  ‘Leave your weapons behind and cross over into Midland. No one will bar your way. You will be free to live as you please there.’

  ‘What? Are you sure? We can just walk through yonder pass and be free?’ He looked back at the soldiers behind him in amazement as he spoke.

  ‘Yes, officer. It is as simple as that.’

  As one creature, they all dropped their swords, axes and shields and some even cheered as they began to rush up the hill.

  Owens watched them go, with a subtle shake of his head.

  ‘You were about to speak,’ said Lancer.

  Owens turned back to him.

  ‘Ay,‘ he replied, as he took a tighter grip on the reins of his horse. With a last hard stare at Richard, he pulled himself back into his saddle, and he called his second in command to him.

  ‘There is news of a raiding party of Ashlucks along Rizer’s Edge a way. We need to investigate this as a matter of urgent priority, in case it happens that they cross the border, as you know the damage they can do. Prince Raffold here will hold Lord Richard under arrest until we return. Is that not the case, Prince?’

  Lancer nodded, and placed a serious expression on his face. ‘Yes, indeed, and you can be sure that he will not be allowed out of my sight, not at all. Unless he is about his ablutions of a morning. No man should be watched when he’s about his ablutions. But, otherwise, you can trust me with this task.’

  ‘Good, because I believe it will take us seven days or so to investigate this possible invasion, and I would have him safe and sound here when I return. Is that clear, Your Highness?’

  ‘Eminently so, my good man. Now, you be off and be careful because I hear bad things about those Ashlucks, I do. Though they do have wonderful jewelry, it seems. So, if you can bring back a nice bracelet or two; that would be fine.’

  ‘I don’t know about that, your Highness. Good day and fare thee well.’

  With that, he jerked h
is reigns and spun away, with his men riding in line behind him.

  ‘What now?’ asked Richard, his eyes on the riders.

  ‘Well now, what do you think? Will, Ashlorn, I believe his name is, will he shake his head and say, ‘No, that were not a nice thing to do to my two brothers, and it’s a crying shame it is, but what can I do about it?’ Will he say that, do you think? Or will he roar, and bang his chest with his great seven fingered fists and say, ’Revenge will be mine!’ or some other such nonsense?’

  ‘I…’ Richard watched the Giant with his lowered head, and blood still dripping.

  ‘And, forgive me for speaking the truth, but your Giant friend will be of no use to you. In fact, it would be wise for us to get him away from here, if we could, for safety’s sake.’

  ‘I can’t see you little man, but my ears still work well enough, they do,’ said Ferrooll, without lifting his head.

  ‘In that case, I would say I am sorry, but the truth is the truth, whether you can see it or not.’

  ‘I can’t go anywhere if I can’t see, so I’ll shuffle over to the tavern wall, and mayhap that little bar-lady will see her way to a drink or two for a blind Giant. And if that Trytor comes a calling, then even a blind Giant is a dangerous beast, especially when he’s in a bad mood.’

  ‘I can be your eyes, Mr Giant,’ said the little boy who’d warned Ferrooll of the arrival of Brudorth.

  ‘What’s that squeaky little voice I heard? Is it a child?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Giant, you remember me, don’t you? You said I could have your tealeaf and your ale, but she wouldn’t let me touch the ale. She said, ’come back in 10 years,’ she said, but I reckon it’d be ruined by then.’ He stepped onto the Giant’s thigh as he spoke.

  ‘See, I can sit on your shoulder, like,’ he set his actions to match his words and climbed up onto the Giant’s shoulder, ‘and I can watch out for you, for I’s got good eyes, I have, and I can say, ‘go this way,’ or ‘Go that away,’ or, ’Don’t stand on that poor horse,’ and you’ll be a right as rain on a spring morning, you will.’