Misthaven: The Complete Trilogy

by J Battle

  'Don't matter none to me, as long we get ourselves somewhere, and anyways, if there's two ways to go, and one's the south, and the other's the north, then we go south.'

  'But, why?'

  'The south be warmer.'

  With the decision made, they set off in search of buildings, and food, and ale.

  Raarvan had in fact chosen the right direction, for just a few miles down the road they would come to Hesselton.

  Chapter 29 Rekk

  Rekk rushed into Fleur’s rooms, with Jerrold tailing behind him.

  ‘Did you hear?’ he snapped, without a good morning or how do you do?

  Fleur gathered her dressing gown about her more securely.

  ‘Hear what, dear brother?’

  ‘Meldon, he’s only gone and killed that Courtney fella in his chair, he has.’

  Fleur took the news calmly. ‘Jerrold, you can leave us now, I won’t need you for a while.’

  He bowed and was gone almost before the last word was spoken.

  ‘Now, Rekk…’

  ‘You know what that means? You were wrong. Everything’s wrong.’ He turned from her and marched to the balcony, and then back to her.

  ‘Listen, Rekk,’ she stood up and grabbed him by the arm. ‘There ain’t no need for that talk, there ain’t. It’ll be a trick, for sure. He hasn’t the courage to touch the Stone. I seen him the other night. He tried, but he couldn’t do it. He was nearly crying like a baby, he was. And he ain’t grown a bigger pair since then, I’ll tell you that and you can pay me later.’

  ‘But...are you sure?’

  ‘Trust me Rekk, any man I’ve had between my knees, I know him better that he knows himself, I do. And it’s nothing but a trick. You can trust me on that.’

  Rekk slumped down on to her bed.

  ‘Well, mayhap you’re right.’

  ‘I am. Now, did you speak to what’s his name? Grosvenor.’

  ‘Ay, and he wouldn’t be taking nothing but gold coins, he wouldn’t.’

  ‘And you showed him the book, like I said?’

  ‘Ay, of course.’

  ‘And he wrote down what to say? In proper words, like, so’s I can read ‘em?’

  ‘Ay, and I have it here on a bit of paper he gave me, but...’

  ‘Don’t start with that now, Rekk.’

  ‘I was only saying. It’s the baby. You can’t risk the baby. You can’t, Fleur.’

  Fleur sat down again, and crossed her elegant ankles.

  ‘That’s why I have to do it, Rekk. It’s for the baby. He’s turned cold to me, he has, and it’s sure to come that he’ll find someone else and kick us out, or worse even. And I ain’t having that, Rekk, I aint. Not after a year flat on me back. So I’m going to do it, and I’ll protect the baby, ‘cause that’s what a mother does. But I’m doing it, just as soon as you do your bit.’

  Rekk closed his eyes and tightened his jaw.

  ‘Don’t you worry now, Rekk. He ain’t nothing special, and he’s as soft as the silks he wears. He’ll probably faint when you show him your blade.’

  ‘Tonight, then?’

  ‘Ay, I reckon.’

  ‘And when will you touch the Wellstone?’

  ‘Give me that paper, and I’ll study up on the words.’ She reached out, and her hands shook at the prospect of the action she was planning to take.

  *********

  It was already evening when they left the Mage’s Palace, with his most prized possession hidden away in BobbyJ’s bag, and Loren wrapped in his cloak.

  She led, with BobbyJ close behind her, and Cavour lagging a little behind, his thin face shadowed by thought.

  ‘If we continue along this here road for an hour or so, we’ll come to the lake, or reservoir, if you like.’

  ‘I’m sure it will be wonderful to see, for sure, but what use is it to us in our escape?’

  Loren frowned and glanced back the way they’d come.

  ‘We’ll not be there for the scenery, if you forgive my rudeness. We’ll be catching a boat, if we are in good fortune, and sailing ourselves across the water to Hesselton.’

  ‘Ah, I see. And Hesselton is?’

  ‘When you pass through there, you’ll be on the road to wherever you wish to go.’

  ‘Well, that’s good news, and that’s the truth.’ He stepped a little closer until he was walking beside her.

  ‘Now, my dear, as we have a little time with nothing left to do but walk along this road, we might as well talk as we walk. What do you say?’

  ‘I really wouldn’t know what to say to you, sir.’

  ‘No need for ‘sir’ Loren, when I am younger than you are. Just call me BobbyJ, when you are not calling me darling Bobby.’

  ‘Sir, you are too familiar,’ she scolded, and increased her pace.

  ‘Pardon me if you will, my Lady. I did not mean to offend you with the manner of my speech. I am a poor country boy, and I know no better.’

  Loren shook her head and glanced back at Cavour.

  ‘I think you know far more than you pretend, sir, and I believe your master gave you strict instructions on how to behave with a lady.’

  ‘He is not my master, and they were merely suggestions. And I’ll know just how to behave if I happen to come upon a lady along this here road.’

  He smiled, as if to take the sting from his words, but she did not notice. An uncharitable observer might have suggested that she flounced off along the road, leaving BobbyJ behind.

  ‘She’s not much fun, is she?’ he said, as Cavour caught up with him.

  ‘Hardly surprising, given the unmentionable ordeals she has almost certainly been subjected to. The Mage doesn’t keep young ladies about his palace, dressed in such a fashion for conversation, does he? And she was doomed to be used as the other girl, in some way to protect him from the hunger of the Stone.’

  ‘Still, there’s no need to get all moody about it, is there?’

  ‘You kept your true nature a secret, throughout our time together on the road.’

  BobbyJ scowled and looked down at his re-bandaged arm.

  For a long moment, he made no reply as they walked along behind Loren.

  ‘Ay,‘ he sighed, at last, ‘and that’s no surprise, when your father is the last and least of the Trytor, and who knows what your mother was. She died when she bore me; I know that for a fact. I was brought up by nursemaids and caremothers, and hidden from public sight. ‘Cause, when I was a baby, I favored my father somewhat. As I got older, I began to favor my mother more, and, when I reached 10 summers, you wouldn’t have known I wasn’t a full human. I didn’t need a bandage to hide my arm, or limp as I walked.’

  Cavour listened as he spoke, his eyes flitting forward towards Loren, and backwards the way they’d come.

  ‘Did your father see you?’

  ‘Not after the birth, he didn’t. I was sent away in a birth blanket, in the middle of the night, and he wouldn’t see me after that.’

  ‘When I was 11 summers old, my limbs began to change; first my leg, and then my arm and hand. When my other foot started to change, I went to see him. I wanted to know what would happen to me. Was I going to change so much that I became a full Trytor? Or would I be neither one nor the other?’

  ‘And what happened?’

  ‘Nothing. He told his man, Dryan to send me off with harsh words, and threats of violence.’

  ‘Hard to have such a father.’

  ‘When your mother is a dead human, and your father a living monster, you surely can’t expect easy.’

  ‘So you followed me in a wild hope to make your father look with favor on you?’

  ‘Pah! Nothing like that. Do I look such a fool? No, he called me to him, out the blue of a clear sky, and he said, ‘that Cavour, he’s a good man, and I don’t trust good men. So go and follow him, and be sure that he stays true to his course.’ And that’s what I’ve been doing, all this time. And you believed every word I spoke to you, and that’s the truth.’

  ‘We
ll, there is some truth in what you say, but I knew that you were not what you seemed, even with your common talk and boyish charm.’

  ‘Ay, my boyish charm. The ladies surely do love it, don’t they, Mr Cavour?’

  ‘So, it’s back to Mr, is it?’

  ‘If you like, Mr Cavour, sir.’

  Loren was walking between rows of low buildings on each side of the road, with an elegant white manor house to her left, and a dark, broken-down storehouse to her right.

  'Ho there!'

  She stopped at the sound of the voice, calling from the doorway of the house.

  With a shudder she pulled the cloak tightly around herself as she recognized Lady Alice walking towards her.

  'Are you off to Hesselton in such a rush?' she asked, a smile in her voice.

  'Yes, Ma'am. If you please.' Loren felt a sudden urge to curtsey.

  'And who are these gentlemen following close behind you?' She gave them a stern look as they approached.

  'M'lady,' Cavour bowed, 'we are mere merchants, in search of trade. My name is Cavour, and this young fellow goes by the name of BobbyJ, when he's not being called a nuisance.'

  'I believe that I know who you are, sir. Guests of the Mage, I think.'

  'Indeed, M'lady. But he is about his business, as we must be about ours. The young lady was kind enough to offer to lead us to the main highway.'

  'Kind of her indeed, but she looks to perish with the cold, dressed as she is. Come dear, follow me into my home. I believe that I have a thick woolen dress that may fit you well, and you would benefit from a warming drink.'

  'Yes, My Lady, I surely am feeling the cold.'

  The Lady turned to Cavour. 'If you will wait here, please, whilst this young lady is warmed and clothed. Please do not take offence that my offer is not extended to you. It would be unseemly for a lady, alone as I am, to invite strange men into her house in this manner.'

  'Have no fear, M'Lady. We'll wait as long as you need, and I'll occupy myself and keep the cold at bay with clipping this rascal about the ears to teach him a little good manners.'

  'As you please, sir. As you please.'

  With that said, she took Loren by the hand and led her up the path to her house.

  BobbyJ shook his head when they were gone.

  'I don't like this, Cavour. We should be off before any treachery is done to us. We can just follow this here road and be on our way before the Mage returns.'

  'You may be right, BobbyJ, and you may be wrong. But I believe that we are safe enough for the moment.'

  'Ah, I see there, Cavour. It's the Lady, is it not? Fair enough she is, and she is most well-spoken, I think. And all alone she is, with no-one to warm her bed of a cold night.'

  'It is nothing like that, and you should be wary of speaking of a lady in that manner.'

  'Oh, I don't know, Cavour. Now we're all honest together, I can surely speak as I find. And I find that it would surely do you both a great deal of good to bring some pleasure into your lives.'

  'No more of this nonsense, boy. Hear me now. We'll just take ourselves a seat on this low wall and perhaps while away the time with a little smoke and some consideration.'

  'If you say so, Mr Cavour, but you should get your pleasure where you find it; I always do.'

  Cavour ignored him as he smoked his pipe and watched the road down which they'd come. At the same time, he was considering what words might be spoken inside the manor house.

  **********

  Alice closed the door behind them, and slid a bolt into place. Then she ushered Loren into her sitting room and got her settled by fire.

  'Now, whilst the water in this pot gets hot, and you get yourself warm, you can tell me about the lies I've just been listening to.'

  'M'lady, I don't know who they are, but I'm sure they are not merchants. The Mage had them all locked up and guarded, and then he was off to save the valley, thinking they couldn't do no harm. But they killed old Olav; left him dead on the floor. I saw him, and it was all I could do not to scream. Then they went to the Wellstone room and, M'Lady, they went and took it. Just like that. The little one had it in his hand, all glowing like, and his hand weren't a human hand. No; not at all. It were dark and scaly, and there seemed too many fingers, though I didn't have the time to count them.'

  'What did he do with the Wellstone?' The pot was forgotten as Alice listened to her words.

  'Don't rightly know, but I reckon it's hidden in that big bag he carries 'cross his shoulder.'

  'Well, you've done very well to bring them to my door, near enough as doesn't matter. Now, I'll make you a drink, and find that dress, and we'll think on what’s best to be done here.'

  'Shouldn't you send for some of the Mage's men? So they can take back the Wellstone? He'll be so angry if he comes back and finds it gone. He'll blame me; I know he will.'

  'Now, don't you worry about that. There'll be no blame. You may be right and mayhap we should give the Stone back to the Mage and all will be as it was, but first, there's no harm in thinking about the valley without the Stone, or perhaps with someone else holding its power, someone other than Anders the Slow. No harm at all.'

  Chapter 30 Anders

  Something stirred in his stomach as he approached the palace. He couldn’t have said what it was; the fluttering of a fragile, nervous butterfly, or the unravelling of a potent and evil snake. Whichever way, his legs weakened when he saw the door left open, across the groove in the ground that one day would be a moat.

  ‘What…?’ Anders clamped his lips shut, in case he said words that could not be unspoken.

  ‘Hold on here, for a moment, Mage. Let me go first and see what may be seen.’ Aavtaar swung his axe in his good hand as he stepped past Anders and began to walk carefully towards the open doorway.

  When he disappeared inside, Anders spun around; suddenly aware that he was all alone and vulnerable. He pulled out his blade and swung it awkwardly, unsure of the best way to hold the thing. Jab like this; swing like that.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he had drawn his sword, and he was quite surprised to see the blade so clean and sharp. Presumably it was someone’s job to keep it in good condition, in case he needed to make use of it.

  He moved closer to the door, ready to leap inside if the attack should come from outside, or to run if it came from the inside.

  He saw a large round shadow in the hallway and stepped backwards, ready to run.

  ‘Mage, it is bad news I have,’ said Aavtaar, as he revealed himself.

  ‘What is it man?’ snapped Anders, the point of his sword rising of its own will towards his bodyguard.

  ‘Olav is dead, Mage, and the girl is gone, and…’ He stopped then, as if he couldn’t find the words.

  ‘What is it? Tell me now or I’ll pin you to the wall with my sword.’

  ‘Mage, lower your sword and I will tell you. I would not like to hurt you further to stop you from hurting me.’

  Anders complied, silently.

  ‘It’s the Stone, Mage. The Wellstone. It’s gone.’

  Anders remained still as the Stone in question, replaying the words in his head. Trying to find some indication that he’d misinterpreted Aavtaar’s words.

  ‘The prisoners have taken the Stone with them,’ said Aavtaar, just to be clear.

  Anders barged past him, rushing up the stairs, ignoring the dead body of his guard as he raced to the Wellstone room.

  He stopped in the doorway and his eyes searched the room, hungry for detail. He saw the remains of Clara, the heavy wooden table that had carried the weight of the Stone and its predecessors all these years; marked from the heat. He saw the bricked-up window, the wall lights, the bloodstained floor, the mat with the imprint of his knees from his devotions. But he saw no Stone. It was gone. The Wellstone, the source of all of his power, was gone.

  He collapsed to his knees and lowered his hands to the ground. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead on the back of his hands. He began to rock, slowly,
back and forward, as a sound emerged from his throat. Quiet at first, it was, but growing louder. A high pitched, keening sound that spoke of loss and despair, of fear and longing.

  He took no notice of Aavtaar behind him, watching his collapse from something greater than a man, to something much less.

  He did not see Aavtaar shake his head, or hear him mutter quietly to himself, ‘What is a Mage without Magic?’

  When the tears came, the warrior could take no more. He turned and left the pathetic wretch to his woe. He closed the door behind him as he marched from the palace.

  There were things to be done and, if the Mage was so undone, then it was left to him to take command and see what could be retrieved.

  He stopped all of a sudden, when he reached the road. Slowly he turned and looked along the way towards the north. For that was the way they would come, as surely they must. The ravening hoard of Elvenfolk, drooling at the mouth at the prospect of Magic. Desperation driving them on; overwhelming and unstoppable, lest it be by Magic itself.

  And now there was no Magic to resist them, no Magic to destroy them, no Magic to buy them off with, if that became necessary.

  They would come seeking Magic and, finding none, their anger would bring havoc, death and destruction to Misthaven.

  All that would be left would be bodies moldering in the dirt; men, women, children. It would make no difference to them.

  He gripped his axe tightly in his good hand and growled as he set off south towards Hesselton, to see if he could stop the prisoners from escaping and somehow save the land.

  **********

  ‘So, what happened to you, fool?’ As ever, there was derision in her tone.

  ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I cared to tell you, Blodnes, and I don’t know if I will.’

  ‘Go on, Crawlord Elstar, you know I like a good laugh at the end of a long day.’

  They were in the meeting hall of Fellstone, the home of the Elvenfolk. For the moment, they were alone, but soon the hall would be filled to bursting with all manner of folk, here to listen to the Elvenlord’s fine words.