Misthaven: The Complete Trilogy

by J Battle

  The man ignored her and cast off her hand.

  ‘I’m sorry, father. I didn’t…’ gasped Sam.

  Prince Torn rushed forward and caught his son before he could collapse.

  Chapter 21 Lydorth

  The caverns were dim, but he could still see as the walls were splattered with the fluorescent trails of the giant snails that lived down here, hidden from the sun.

  The caverns were cold, but the fire of his anger kept him warm, as he crawled along the narrow ledge above a precipitous drop.

  The bleeding had stopped, he thought, but he wouldn’t pause to check, not yet at least. When he was deep enough in the heart of the mountain, when he felt safe, he would see to his wounds.

  The man’s blade had cut him deep, and he lacked the strength to get to his feet, and the loss of blood was something to worry about, when he would allow himself the time.

  For now, he crawled.

  Ahead of him, some distance yet, was a bridge that spanned a wide, deep chasm. On the other side was safety. He would cross to the other side and rip the bridge from its moorings, and no-one could follow him. Then he would be safe, and he would relax and see to healing himself.

  He crawled, and he sobbed, for the pain was fierce, and he’d never known pain before, for he was a Trytor, and who would dare to make the attempt to hurt a creature such as he?

  The answer to that question was clear of course, and a vision of the man’s face danced before him as he crawled, laughing at his ignominy. A man with a sword and a mission had brought the Last of the Trytor to this, and he sobbed with the pain; he sobbed with the dismay.

  **********

  ‘So, you will trick him, then? Bring him within my grasp?’

  Cavour glanced up at his massive companion.

  ‘Two, left,’ he said, and the Giant stepped around the hole in the road.

  ‘Ay, something very much like that, I should think,’ he said, in answer to Ferrooll’s question.

  They were on the outskirts of the town and they could see the tops of the great doors that stood sentry by the entrance to the Trytor’s redoubt.

  ‘But we should not plan too closely, my friend, for he is most unpredictable, as we must be.’

  ‘I predict I’ll be crushing his bony head before the sun takes itself off to its bed,’ said Ferrooll, raising one massive fist to give his words emphasis.

  ‘Ay, and that will be a sight to see, for certain.’

  They walked on in silence for a while, except for Cavour’s quick guiding prompts. Soon enough they were before the enormous wooden doors, and only darkness beckoned to them from within the Trytor’s home.

  Ferrooll scratched his belly and straightened his cap, and he took the deepest of breaths.

  ‘Right now, little man, I reckon I’m ready for this, so let’s be about our business before he sees us and gets all scared and runs off calling for his ma.’

  ‘You’re right there, Ferrooll. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish, I’d say. Now, before we go in, I’ve been thinking and we need some signal, so I can tell you where he is.’

  ‘The signal will be a word or a sound, won’t it? I don’t reckon waving a red flag at me will be much use.’

  ‘You’re right there, Ferrooll. If he’s right in front of you, I’ll shout ‘front’ and you can just throw one of your almighty punches. If he’s not quite there, I’ll shout ‘near’ and you can ready yourself.’

  ‘Right enough, I reckon I’ve got that; front and near. What if he is to my left, or to my right?’

  ‘What do you think I should call, in that case?’

  Ferrooll pondered the question for a moment, and then he smiled. ‘I reckon, if he’s on my left, then you shout ‘right,’ and if he’s on my right, then you can shout ‘left.’ That will surely confuse him, I reckon.’

  ‘Will it not confuse you, in the heat of the moment? And don’t forget, if he’s facing you, your right is his left.’

  The Giant pulled a face as he considered his words, and he twisted his body from side to side as if to see if the man was right.

  ‘Ay, mayhap you’re right. I heard that said before, but I can’t see how there could be two rights and two lefts, all at the same time, like, but if you say so, and you’re a clever little man, then you must be right. Tell me ‘right’ when he’s on my right, and ‘left’ when he ain’t.’

  ‘No need for calling out ‘left,’ ‘right,’ ‘up,’ ‘down,’ ‘back,‘ ‘front,’ called a voice from behind them.

  They began their spin around in reaction together, though the Giant took somewhat longer to complete the move.

  ‘Hi there, brother, I did not think to see you so soon,’ said Garraldi, from the tavern doorway, with a tankard in his hand.

  Cavour found himself at a loss for words. Here he was, come to kill the Last Trytor and free his brother, and here was his brother, free and looking as well as he’d seen him in sometime. He took half a step forward, and then he stopped, for he had no idea what he should do. This was his only brother, and they’d been close as boys. But his drunken foolishness had caused his parents to be killed at the hands of the Trytor. Did a year in the Trytor’s dungeon pay for that?

  He clenched his teeth and his fists, and he strode forward.

  ‘Brother...?’ said Garraldi, before Cavour struck him down.

  ‘I heard a blow. Did you say ‘front?’ You might have said it and I didn’t rightly hear it. You got to speak up, you have, if you expect me to hear you.’ Ferrooll raised his fists just to be on the safe side.

  Cavour placed his hand on the enormous arm of the Giant and tried to press it down, with little in the way of success.

  ‘Relax, Ferrooll. It’s just my brother.’

  ‘You hit your brother? I had a brother; I always liked to hit him when I was nothing but a lad, I did.’

  ‘Ay, Ferrooll, that’s what brothers like to do.’ He bent and grasped Garraldi’s hand, and he pulled him to his feet.

  ‘I reckon I’ll give you that, brother. It’s less than I deserve, I’d say.’

  ‘And you’d be right, for sure. But you are my brother for all that, and I did the Trytor’s work to keep you safe.’

  ‘I wasn’t entirely sure if you were doing that just to keep me alive long enough for you to kill me.’

  ‘You want to know something, Garraldi? Well, neither was I.’

  The brothers hugged then, for the longest time, until there was a sudden need for huffing and puffing, and the surreptitious wiping of eyes.

  When he was composed, Garraldi looked up at the great mass of the Giant standing to one side.

  ‘Greetings, sir, I am Garraldi, and I’m Cavour’s brother, and I am pleased to meet you, sir.’

  ‘Ay, I reckon I knew the first part already, Garraldi, and most people are pleased to see me, I’d say, for the story they can tell, later, like.’

  ‘How did you come to be here with Cavour?’

  ‘Ah now, we’re here to kill that Trytor, and that’s reason enough to get up in the morning, I reckon.’

  ‘You may be too late, sir, for you are not the first to arrive with such intent, though he’s been a long time about it, if you ask me.’

  ‘What are you saying, and how did you escape, anyway?’ asked Cavour.

  ‘Now, there’s a tale for sure. A stranger appeared, out of nowhere, it seemed and that was a surprise for all involved, I’d say. But, well, he was a big man and he had a sword and all, and he slew whatever abomination Lydorth was creating, and the craven creature ran for his life at the sight. Then he freed us, me and Dryan, and then he was off after the Trytor, with Dryan to give what aid he could.’

  ‘That’s …Who was this man? Did you know him?’

  ‘Never seen him before, but that’s his tavern, with the fine big window. Richard was his name; that’s what Agnis, the old lady who tells fortunes said, anyway.’

  ‘A landlord is off to slay the Trytor?’ said Ferrooll, with a shake of his head. ‘We sh
ould try his ale, I reckon, for such a man will surely serve a fine ale.’

  ‘Not just yet, Ferrooll, for there is still a job to be done. We don’t know this man, and if he hasn’t succeeded, then he might need our help. Come along and let’s see what is to be found.’

  Cavour turned to his brother.

  ‘Will you come as well?’

  Garraldi shrugged and glanced down at his broken tankard on the ground. ‘Well, I’ve no more drink, and no more coin, so I may as well, to be sure you don’t get yourself into any trouble.’

  ‘Trouble?’ said Ferrooll, with a great booming laugh. ‘Trouble is what we are looking for, and trouble is what we bring.’ He smashed his great fist against his chest by way of demonstration.

  ‘Right, two,’ said Cavour, with the smile at the Giant’s words slipping away, to be replaced by a hard face of grim determination.

  Together, the two men and the blind Giant walked into the Trytor’s den.

  Chapter 22 Torn

  He sat by the side of his son’s bed, with one big hand holding Sam’s equally large hand.

  ‘Tell me, sir, what is going on.’ Alice stood on the opposite side of the bed, upright and stern.

  For a moment, it appeared he hadn’t heard her words, then he shuddered and looked up.

  ‘I looked for him, for a year now. And now I have found him.’

  ‘Forgive me, sir, but that was not the reaction one would expect when a boy is found by his long-lost father.’

  ‘No…you are right. I…I was not an easy father. Mayhap I asked too much from him. He was to inherit my land and my Stone, and he seemed capable of neither. So I was hard on him, to make him strong enough to carry the weight of his responsibility. Mayhap I was wrong.’

  He looked at the boy sleeping quietly.

  ‘For sure, I was wrong. The loss of my son, mayhap it has opened my eyes. If he allows it, I would wish to…make amends, if I can.’

  Sam stirred and his eyes flicked open, and he stared wide-eyed at his father.

  ‘Now, lad. No need to get all upset again.’ Torn tried a smile, but it felt awkward. ‘I’m not here to judge you, or to punish you. You have done nothing wrong. Do you hear me, boy?’

  Sam frowned, and he glanced over at Alice. She nodded and smiled.

  ‘Father,’ said Sam.

  ‘Yes, Sam. You’re better now, and you will be fine.’ Torn smiled once more, and it felt natural.

  ‘So, Sam,’ said Alice, brightly, ‘you never said you were a prince,’ she teased.

  ‘I ain’t a prince, Lady Alice. I’s just Sam.’

  ’Ay, Sam, and that’s enough for anyone, isn’t it Prince Torn?’

  ‘It is indeed, my lady.’

  ‘How…how did you find me? I didn’t think you’d come looking.’

  Torn looked at his son, and he held back the lies that sprang to mind.

  ‘In truth, son, I might not have come myself. I sent men, of course I did, for your loss was terrible to me, but that Meldon, you remember him?’

  ‘Ay, I do, but he never spoke to me. He just gave that look of his when you weren’t about.’

  ‘Well, he betrayed me; took the Stone and poisoned me, he did. But the Magic kept me alive, so I left him to it, for all I wanted was my son.

  ‘I sailed to the mainland, for it seemed that was where you had been taken. I walked the land, asking here and asking there, for a sight of you. Fool that I was, it took me three weeks before I thought to ask after three lads instead of one, for I’d given the other two not a thought. Tom and Gorge, wasn’t it? They were always your friends, though I had no taste for Tom’s father.’

  He paused for a moment.

  ‘Even then, it took me a year to find you. I thought I’d settle myself in Hesselton and approach you gently. I saw you once, just days ago. You had a fishing spear in your hand, and I thought to approach you. But all of a sudden you were off and you rushed to the townhall, and we should have words sometime about the disrespect you showed to that guard. After that, you were always with someone.’

  He sighed and touched Sam’s cheek with one hand. ‘And then I saw the sooothnurse; all upset she was, and she told me where I could find you.’

  ‘Will…will you take me back, to Fairisle, like?’

  ‘No, Sam. That is no place for us now, and you seem settled enough here. If you will allow me to join you, I would be more than honoured.’

  Sam looked at Alice.

  ‘If…if I say no, then what?’

  Torn swallowed.

  ‘Then I will be gone, and you need think of me no more.’

  Sam didn’t take his eyes of Alice.

  ‘Mayhap you should think about it before you make a decision?’ suggested Alice.

  Sam closed his eyes then and settled into his pillows.

  Alice found that she couldn’t meet Prince Torn’s eyes.

  **********

  Sleurth was closer to the island than he’d ever been, and he missed his kind, now long gone.

  There was something wrong on the island, and it tainted the very waters of the sea. There was something wrong, and somehow it called to him, which couldn’t be right.

  ‘Not today,’ he said, ever so slowly, and he turned away.

  As he swam on, he came into view of the harbour, and he watched as the Elvenfolk disembarked. They were carried in a small boat from the ships that bobbed just away from the quay, and the boat had to make many trips.

  At last, they were all on the dock, and Sleurth was dismayed at the sight of them, for he knew what they were, from the songs his kind sometimes sang to while away the long cold nights.

  ‘How far they have fallen,’ he said, and the words took an age to speak, for a Loosis hates to let go of a word.

  All of a sudden, he twisted and swam towards the harbour with desperate haste, for something terrible was about to happen, and he was too young to have the wisdom to turn away.

  Chapter 23 Cavour

  They stood for a moment by the headless corpse, with its dark skin stretched tight over its unnatural skeleton.

  ‘What was this?’ said Cavour, though he knew the answer well enough.

  ‘It was the other Trytor, I believe, newly brought back to life,’ said Garraldi, bending close to examine the remains.

  ‘Then this man has saved me the need to worry about the results of my actions, and for that I’d like to shake his hand,’ said Cavour, as he glanced around the rulehall, so empty without the presence of the unpredictable Trytor.

  ‘Richard,’ said Ferrooll, his great booming voice echoing across the hall. ‘He said his name was Richard. I knew a Richard, a Lord Richard, and I reckon this will be his handy-work.’

  ‘He’ll have gone through the tunnels beyond that door, I reckon, into the heart of the mountain.’ Cavour took a couple of steps. ‘Come along, Ferrooll. He is hardly likely to come waltzing back here into your grasp.’

  ‘Lead the way then, little man. Do I have to duck my head?’

  ‘Just a little, after two steps, and to your right, if you please.’

  ‘Too many words, man. The lad, he only said what was needed, and that were enough.’

  Cavour led the Giant with simple straightforward instructions, and Garraldi followed in his wake.

  They wandered through the tunnels for an hour or so, coming back on themselves and starting once more whenever they came to a dead end. At last they came to a wide room with three exits along the opposite wall, and Cavour nodded. ‘We should have come straight here, I think. It was obvious this was the way he would come, now I think of it.’

  They found a figure lying still in the shadows by the middle exit.

  ‘Is he...?’ asked Cavour as his brother bent over the body.

  ‘He is covered in blood, and he has a terrible wound to the head, but he breathes still, I reckon. Just about. Here, take a look.’

  Cavour touched the prostrate figure’s throat. ‘There is a pulse yet,’ he said, after a moment. ‘We must take
him from here and find a soothnurse.’

  ‘His head’s half split open, brother. He’ll need more than a soothnurse, if he is to survive. Just look at all that blood. You wouldn’t think a man could lose all that and still be alive.’

  ‘Ay, Garraldi, but look, he has bled from the wound, and that was enough in itself, but his blouse here, it’s drenched for sure, but there is no wound here. I reckon it is someone else’s blood, and the Trytor’s at that. Smell it, if you will. It doesn’t smell like human blood; there is a rank, foul flavour to it, and it surely didn’t come from any man born to a woman.’

  ‘Then he has slain the Trytor? And nearly died in the process.’ Garraldi shook his head at the idea.

  ‘That may be the case, or mayhap he’s wounded the beast, and he’ll be back angry and hurt and eager to kill. We should be gone. Come now, Ferrooll, if you would pick him up gently and then we’ll be off.’

  ‘I thought we were here to kill the Trytor?’

  ‘Ay, we were, and the job might already be done, but we shouldn’t hang around and let the hero die, should we?’

  ‘Ay, little man, I reckon you’re right, and we can always come back, can’t we?’

  ‘Yes, if you like. Now bend a little to your right, and stretch out your hands, and we’ll get him settled, won’t we Garraldi?’

  Together, the brothers lifted Richard into the Giant’s waiting hands. Then Cavour guided him through the maze to the rulehall and then outside.

  ‘What will we do with him?’ asked Ferrooll.

  ‘Bring him over here, if you please,’ said a grey-haired old woman standing in the doorway of Richard’s tavern. ‘This is where he belongs, I’d say, and that’s for sure. Bring him in and duck your head, and don’t go knocking any walls down, if you please.’

  Cavour guided Ferrooll to her.

  ‘We’ll need a soothnurse,’ he said, as the Giant bent his great body and eased his way inside.

  ‘I’ll send for my niece, she knows all there is to know about sewing up wounds, she does, and she’ll have potions and suchlike to stop infections and diseases, she will,’ said Agnis, with her hands on her hips and a concerned eye for Richard.