Misthaven: The Complete Trilogy

by J Battle

  ‘But…he is…’

  ‘I know, but we can’t just leave him there, trapped in the water. It just ain’t right.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that, Sam,’ said Alice, with a gentle hand on his arm. ‘I have a team of workmen from Tlurr up there to see to strengthening the wall, and I’ll have them reach out for him and bring him to us. We’ll see that he is taken care of; you’ve no need to worry about that.’

  ‘But…we are his friends, me and Tom. We should be there. We came together, so we should be together when he goes, like.’

  ‘You have to leave in the morning, and your task is of vital importance. Gorge would have understood.’

  ‘Ay, Lady, Gorge understood everything, he did. Didn’t he, Tom?’

  Tom looked up from his lemonale. ‘Ay, Sam, he did.’

  ‘He knew his numbers right in his head, he did. He could add, and times, and takeaway, and all without a scrap of paper. And he knew about things from them books, didn’t he, Tom?’

  Tom nodded, but couldn’t seem to find the words his friend needed.

  ‘I’ll sing of Gorge, Sam. Don’t you worry about that. And it will be a tale indeed, that I’ll sing of. I’ll do right by the lad, Sam. You can trust me on that.’ Ellaine’s eyes were distant, as if she was already composing Gorge’s story.

  ‘Well,’ said Richard, climbing to his feet, ‘it’s getting late, and you’ll be having an early start in the morning, so mayhap we should bid each other goodnight.’

  He nodded to Alice, and she responded by joining him on her feet.

  ‘Prince Torn, would you care to accompany us?’ asked Richard, in a quiet voice.

  Torn hid his surprise well, and said, ‘of course, Lord Richard. And it is Mr Torn now, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘What’s that about?’ asked Rootheart, as the three left the tavern.

  ‘Mayhap some advice?’ suggested Ellaine.

  ‘Ay, that’ll be it,’ said Tom, with an eye on Sam. ‘Man-talk, it’ll be, I reckon.’

  ‘What time do we sail?’ asked Ellaine, of Rootheart.

  ‘Well, the captain said it was a late tide tomorrow, though I’d say it might be that he likes a little extra time in his bed.’

  ‘You should get yourselves off to bed, lads,’ said Ellaine, with a little smile. ‘There’ll be adventures to be had soon enough, I’d say, and a good night sleep will go down well, don’t you think?’

  ‘Ay, miss,’ said Sam, ‘I could use some sleep, after I’ve seen what Dan the Man has left out for supper.’

  ‘You’re always looking for something to eat,’ said Tom, as they left the tavern.

  ‘And you’re always looking for something to say, so I’d reckon we’re about even, give or take a cup of this and a peck of that.’

  ‘Is it wise to bring the lads?’ asked Rootheart, when they were finally alone. ‘It could be dangerous.’

  ‘It will be dangerous, my dear, of that we can be sure.’ She sighed and shifted her empty tankard. ‘But what must be done can’t be avoided, no matter what we might wish.’

  ‘Can you see what is ahead for us? I know you’re a seer.’

  ‘Well, I am, and I have seen the future, and it is bleak.’

  ‘But we can change that?’

  ‘Ay, we can, if fortune looks our way. But, once I do something to change the future, then I can no longer see what will come. We sail tomorrow and our doom reaches out for us, and I can’t see what shape it will take.’

  ‘So, as you told the boys, a good night of sleep ahead for us?’

  Ellaine laughed and took his hand.

  ‘For the boys, indeed sleep is required, but you are very much mistaken if you believe you’ll be getting much sleep tonight, my dear. A woman has her needs, she does.’

  She gave his hand a tug and he let her pull him towards the stairs.

  At the foot of the stairs, she stopped and motioned for him to go first.

  She watched as he took two steps at a time, full of eagerness for the coming exertions.

  Her smile slipped away as, even without a clear view of the future, now that she was taking action, she knew that lives would be lost in the coming days and her time with the half-giant would soon end.

  ‘Ay, lad,’ she said, as she started after him. ‘We’ll seek what happiness we can, while we are still able.’

  Chapter 67 The Child

  It was close to midnight when Fleur felt a sudden rush of panic, and her heart threatened to break free of her ribcage and the nightmare world she had inhabited these past few weeks.

  There was a rush of water between her legs, and she knew the time was near. Soon her child would be let loose on the world, and she would surely die in the process.

  He had told her many times that his birth would tear her poor broken body apart, and that the last sight her eyes would see would be his smiling face.

  She tried to find some anger within herself, some strength to stop him, but it was drained away with her blood and her waters. There was nothing left but to endure and die. She had done all she could to stop him, and it had come to nothing.

  ‘Let it end,’ she said, her voice hoarse and barely audible. ‘Let me die before he is born so that I do not have to look on his face.’

  The mass in her stomach heaved, and she felt her first contraction. The pain was staggering and she cried out, for she knew that this was just the start.

  ‘Let me die,’ she prayed, though she had no god.

  ‘Are you ready, Mother?’ The voice was loud in her head, and she groaned.

  ‘I can feel your pain, and it is wonderful! Will I feel you die, Mother? Now, that would be something, I’d say.’

  ‘I’ll keep my death to myself,’ she snapped. ‘That, at least, will be my own.’

  ‘Mayhap I’ll keep you alive, then, in a state of constant agony? Ay, there’s an idea. As I walk in glory, you can crawl behind, naked in your pain, leaking fluids from your ugly body and crying for mercy. What do you think, Mother? How does that sound?’

  She would have said, ‘I couldn’t kill you, but I can kill myself,’ but the contractions came once more, and this time they were worse than the first, and she merely screamed.

  ‘Mother! This is wonderful!’

  Time passed like a snail with a bad leg, marked only by sudden explosions of pain as her body prepared to eject the monstrous creature it had sheltered for so long. The sun moved across the sky and the tangleweed rustled in seeming anticipation of the coming event. There was the patter of light rain, but it lacked the strength to reach her in her dark bed.

  Her mouth tasted of iron, as the blood from her bitten tongue leaked, but it failed to assuage the dryness of her throat.

  She screamed no more, for she was now too weak to make the effort, and what value was there in screaming?

  Her baby was silent, for which she would have given thanks, if a god who could look down on this abomination and not act deserved any thanks at all.

  Then the final moments came, and all cogent thought fled, and she was nothing more than a mindless animal splayed across the ground with a child that was too big and too eager for release.

  It was hours before her grip on consciousness failed and, for a time, she passed from this world.

  But her body moved, jerking here and there and the enormous arch of her belly throbbed and rippled and her child twisted and turned.

  There was a sudden extrusion from the side of her stomach; an elbow perhaps, or a foot.

  There were no eyes to see it rise impossibly far from her body before her skin began to tear, revealing a bloodied clawed hand, stretching and flexing, as if taking its first taste of fresh air.

  The hand was soon followed by an arm, and then a shoulder. It was too big by far for a human babe, and still it came, pushing and shoving and ripping, until its round tiny head was revealed, with closed eyes and gasping mouth.

  It rolled from the bloody tear in her body and flopped to the ground, with its legs kicking free of
its mother’s last embrace.

  It lay for a moment, panting away, before it began to move. Slowly it crawled around the devastated body of its mother, dragging its cord along behind.

  As it moved, it seemed to gain strength, and it moved onto its hands and knees.

  With a grunt, it lifted its head and opened its eyes for the first time.

  It didn’t look at its mother, or at the monstrous tangleweed that loomed all around. It only had eyes for the Wellstone on the ground to the side of the still figure.

  The Stone was already glowing in anticipation of what was to come.

  The child reached for the Stone and the pain was instant and agonising and glorious.

  Lifting the Stone and holding it to his chest, he stood up, and he smiled.

  Book IV

  When the age of Magic ends, then the First Men shall return

  Chapter 68 Lancer

  Arfur was not in the best of moods as the sun rose, but, in truth, he hadn’t been in a good mood when it went down the night before.

  Being the guard of the west gate had always been a soft and easy job. You got a helmet and a sword, and a comfortable seat, and you said good day to respectable people who passed through the gate and frowned at anyone who didn’t quite reach such high standards.

  People were polite and well-mannered, and they would often as not stop for a bit of a chat.

  Arfur liked all that.

  But the past few days had been different. People had turned mean and rude and bad-tempered. They were fighting in the streets over nothing much at all, as far as he could tell. When he went to break up the fights, as was only his duty, they would turn on him.

  Not at all the sort of treatment he expected or liked.

  So, was it any wonder that he took his post in the light of an early morn with something of trepidation in his stance?

  He hadn’t been there 10 minutes when he heard the sound of horses; lots of horses, and they were in something of a rush if he was any judge.

  He stood to attention, with one hand on the hilt of his sword, for he had a duty to perform and this did not sound like a simple merchantman on his way for a day’s business in town.

  A dozen uniformed soldiers appeared on the road, riding in tight formation, but at a good pace, heading for nowhere but Arfur’s gate.

  ‘Hold there, soldiers,’ he called, holding up his free hand, ‘less haste, I’d say. No need for rush, now.’

  The lead soldier pulled up his horse just a few feet from Arfur, and the rest matched him perfectly.

  ‘That’s better. Time enough for greetings and introductions, I’d say,’ said Arfur, lowering his hand and raising a friendly smile.

  The soldier leapt from his horse and stood before Arfur, tall and regal in his fancy uniform and a bright red feather protruding from his helmet.

  ‘We’d meet with Lord Richard, if you please,’ he said, with something of softness in his voice, and a touch more of the dismissive.

  ‘That can be arranged, I’m sure,’ replied Arfur, ‘if I can have your names and your…, well your purposes as well, if it don’t offend.’

  ‘Do you ask for the names and purposes of everyone who passes through this gate?’ The softness had gone from his tone, to be replaced by annoyance.

  ‘You are armed men, sir, so you would expect nothing less of me, I’d wager.’ Arfur’s bad mood had drifted off and now he was enjoying himself.

  The soldier turned slightly and gestured to one of his fellows with two fingers of one hand.

  The soldier slipped from his horse.

  ‘Captain H’Ardrigann requests audience with Lord Richard, and he is on the king’s business.’ The soldier spat out each word as if they were as hot as a dragon’s breath.

  Arfur nodded for a moment before he turned to see if anyone was about on his side of the gate. A young lad he could send off to inform Lord Richard of his visitors would have been really handy, but there was no-one to be seen but a grumpy Giant, sitting by the harbour wall.

  ‘If the Captain would care to enter the gates on his own, and break his fast at yonder tavern, and you fine fellows would be kind enough to set up a temporary camp just outside the gate there, and mayhap have a bite to eat as well, then that would suit, I’d say.’

  The soldier frowned, and the captain frowned, but Arfur didn’t give the fluff from a raven’s beak for all at that; he was only doing his duty.

  Suddenly, the captain turned and climbed easily back on to his saddle.

  ‘Corporal,’ he said, with an air of ‘can I really be bothered with this?’

  ‘Yes, Sir?’

  ‘Clear the gates if you please. We are on the king’s business.’

  Now, Arfur knew his duty, and he enjoyed standing up to the soldiers and putting them in their rightful place. But his ma never raised a fool, although he’d say his younger brother came close, so he bowed and stepped to one side and waved them on.

  ‘Lord Richard will put that snotty captain in his place, he will,’ he muttered, with a smile.

  The captain wasn’t 10 yards inside the gate before he pulled up all of a sudden.

  ‘Giant!’ he called, as he attempted to reach for his sword and control his mount at the same time.

  There was some bumping and grunting behind him, and one soldier came very close to losing his seat.

  Within less than a minute they were all lined up abreast with swords drawn and helmets down.

  ‘Hold on there a minute, captain,’ said Arfur, rushing to block their way once more. ‘You don’t want to be doing that; waving your swords at the Giant like that. He ain’t broken his fast yet, and he’ll be more than a bit grumpy, and he might take offense.’

  ‘Step aside, man. We are about the king’s business, and that business is ridding the land of marauding Giants.’

  Arfur took a moment to study Aarvarn, who seemed oblivious to their sudden interest.

  ‘But, he’s just sitting there.’

  The captain sighed.

  ‘He may be now, but the next moment, he could be off marauding.’

  ‘But he’s been here for weeks, and he ain’t done much but eat and drink, with some sleep in between for variety, if you like.’

  ‘That’s what he wants you to think. He’s lulling you into a false sense of security.’

  Arfur scratched his head for a moment. ‘I don’t reckon he’d know what ‘lulling’ means. But, I’ll tell you now and I won’t charge you nothing for the news, if you attack him, well, I’m not cleaning up the mess. The sight of blood turns my stomach, it does.’

  ‘Step aside and prepare yourself for a sea of Giant’s blood.’

  Arfur shook his head and stepped from their path.

  The captain walked his horse forward, followed closely by his men.

  ‘Ho there, Giant,’ he called.

  Aarvarn turned his great head and studied the dozen little men on their little horses.

  ‘Have you brought food?’ he asked, ‘or ale? Ale would do nicely, I reckon. Sitting here by all that water makes me thirsty, though I don’t know why, ‘cause I wouldn’t want to be drinking water.’

  ‘We bring not food to you, or ale.’

  ‘We bring not? What does that mean?’

  ‘I…we bring instead your death, foul beast.’

  Aarvarn ran the man’s words through his head a couple of times, but still the sense avoided his grasp. But it felt something like a threat, so he dropped the rope and lumbered to his feet.

  ‘Explain yourself, little man, before I sit on you and squash your little horse.’

  ‘Lower your arms immediately and draw your men back,’ said a commanding voice from the west gate.

  As one, the soldiers sheaved their swords and backed their horses away from the Giant.

  Arfur looked across to the gate at the newcomer.

  He was gaunt-looking and awkward on his mount, but there was a relaxed smile on his face.

  ‘Don’t you bother the big fellow there, he
’s doing no harm to anyone, and he won’t, if you don’t get him all riled up.’

  ‘But, sir…Prince…’ The captain spluttered.

  ‘I told you, call me Lancer. I answer to no other names, though, if you called me Dancer, that would be close enough, I’d say.’

  ‘Of course…Lancer, we are on a mission…’

  ‘Mission, pission, tission.’

  ‘…from the king, if you please.’

  Lancer pulled on his reigns a little, and nudged his horse with his knees, but the beast remained steadfastly immobile.

  With a sigh, Lancer slipped from his seat and strolled over to the mounted party.

  ‘Ho there, Giant,’ he said, and he smiled, for he did like Giants.

  ‘Ho there, little man. Are you going to be fool enough to threaten a Giant as well?’

  ‘Me? Threaten a Giant? I’d hardly dare threaten a mouse.’ Lancer gave a little a bow, and he enjoyed it so much that he did it again.

  ‘We will not bother you, Sir. We are looking for Lord Richard, if he was fortunate to return.’

  ‘Lord Richard? Ay, he’s here. Least he was last time I looked.’

  ‘That is good news to hear, sir. And is he hale and hearty?’

  ‘He had a sore head, I reckon, by the look of him.’

  ‘And where would we find him, would you say, if we ever chose to look?’

  ‘His house is over in the valley, and you won’t get your horse up there unless you can carry them.’ Aarvarn studied the horses and their riders for a moment.

  ‘No, I reckons that would be too hard, with you being so tiny.’

  ‘So, we should take a walk, you would say?’

  ‘Ay, you could walk, or you could take a seat in the tavern there and have a nice cool tankard of ale and wait for him to come down. He won’t be long, I reckon.’

  ‘It’s a little early for ale,’ said Lancer, turning to take a look at the dark stone wall that dominated the skyline.

  ‘What does that mean? Too early? How can that be? Unless you mean you’re still asleep? That’d be too early, I reckon. Are you still asleep little man? You talk pretty good if you are. I wouldn’t want to have to listen to you if you were awake. I wouldn’t get all your words in my ears, I wouldn’t.’