Son of hell: Blood of wolves

by Michaela Burdová

  "Have you come for your brother, Wolf’s Eye? As far as I know, he’s still breathing.”

  "Everybody was betting on when he would kick the bucket, but he´s still holding on," murmured the dwarf with an oversized helmet that kept falling over his eyes. He looked at his companion in front of him with a questioning gaze. The first dwarf was thoughtfully biting his lip."I'm surprised Etwik didn’t get rid of him long ago."

  "Yeah, after all, Etwik is quite the rascal," the other grumbled. "He´s owed me a scoop of gold for over a year!"

  "Yeah, and he stole my mother’s diamond earrings when we were little boys."

  "I trust Etwik," Neran said, wishing the dwarves would go.

  "You mark my words Wolf's Eye. Things will turn out bad, very bad!"

  "Look," the other dwarf pulled on his companion´s hair. "He has an elven with him. G’day, esteemed missus! No elves have visited us in a long time, have they? A very long time!"

  "Don´t you know? They´re too busy with the Thirteen Demons, you fool!" the first dwarf snapped. "Many an Elven village has been wiped out."

  "So, are you going to let us through?" Neran interrupted. Ubrum and Spiky were always very talkative. Dwarves liked to talk a lot and preferred to tell adventure stories in which they featured as the heroes. It was a very warlike nation, although they had not fought for decades. On the whole they were jovial, greedy, and distrustful and loved gold, food, and hilarious amusement. Their distrust meant that they hid their treasures in secret caches, often in the mountains, often without members of their own families even knowing where. One of their pleasures was to secretly visit their treasure troves and admire them for hours.

  "Move on," Ubrum said, waving them on with his hand. "You're lucky you´ve arrived at the time of our afternoon nap. We’ve just finished lunch and most of the village is asleep. Only the women, who have nothing to do, are up and about gossiping among themselves in their gardens. Don’t let them see you. If they find out Wolf’s Eye has returned, they´ll wake up the whole village. You can´t imagine the fuss, especially when you´ve brought an elven with you."

  Neran raised his hand as a sign of thanks and then, together with Liadel, entered the village. Dwarves built very strange houses which were called iglooyi. They looked like low and wide cupolas and were built from the hardest stone. The powder that was produced from grinding the stones was added to the dwarves armour and weapons. That was why dwarves had the most durable armour and weapons in the world. Each house also had a fenced garden in which almost every woman had her bed of potatoes. Dwarves loved potatoes! Interestingly though, their cemeteries were located in the mountains where the dwarves worked.

  At this time of the afternoon the village seemed quite deserted. Neran headed along the edge of it towards a small pond. A footbridge over it led directly to a house standing on the opposite bank.

  "Are we here?" Liadel asked as they crossed the swaying footbridge with their arms outstretched for balance because the railing was too low.

  "Yep," Neran growled and began to feel tense. He was back again. He had spent thirteen years of his life here. They had been good years filled with fond memories. He liked the fiery and combative Mórn and the other members of the village. Six months ago, when he brought in his half-dead brother, Etwik promised to keep it a secret, but Mórn had revealed everything within an hour. To this day, speculation was rife about who had managed to almost kill a werewolf.

  They stopped at the fence in front of the house. Liadel stood beside him. The fence was overgrown with yellow flowers. Next to the house was a small field of potatoes. Dwarves literally grew nothing else, they hated fruit and vegetables.

  Neran was momentarily lost in thought.

  Would the few Teardrops work? What if they didn’t? What if it wasn´t enough? And when Gerrat woke up, what would happen then? Would he embrace Neran because he had saved him? Would he forgive him?

  A strained smile appeared on Neran´s face.

  Chapter 20

  Awakening

  The first thing Etwik uttered as soon as he had opened the door, was: "Have you got the cure?"

  Neran grinned. "What do you think?"

  The dwarf grinned wildly. "Dammit, Neran! You did it again, didn’t you?"

  Etwik was, just like most dwarves, just over three feet tall and heavily built. A golden belt adorned his potbelly. His black hair was shaggy and rough as was his beard.His black eyebrows looked like two clouds guarding his wild, grey eyes.

  "It didn’t take too long either," Etwik stated cheerfully.

  "Dammit! For seven months I have plodded from Hades to Hell with Aragen constantly on my tail."

  "So, she sniffed you out again did she?"

  "Do I have to tell you everything in the doorway, or what?" Neran objected. Etwik moved aside to let him enter. Neran had to bend quite a bit as the door was so low. Fortunately, the ceiling inside was much higher. Etwik's eyes widened with pleasure when Liadel entered behind him. Until that point, he hadn´t noticed her presence. She had been hidden behind Neran’s huge shoulders.

  "Don’t tell me that you’ve got married!" he snapped as soon as he had slammed the door shut behind his guests. "And on top of everything to an elven!"

  "What were you thinking?" Neran cringed immediately.

  "What else can I think …. For what other reason would you bring an elven wench with you."

  "My name is Liadel," Liadel said, sounding a bit conceited. Neran guessed that she had been offended by the term "elven wench."

  "I’m Etwik, at your service," the dwarf muttered and quickly bowed to her. It could be said of Etwik that he didn´t love elves, but that he had a healthy curiosity in them and tried to learn something about their wealth.

  The dwarf eyed with amusement the leather cloth which Neran had tied around his hips. "Well, I´ll tell you my friend, that I understand how comfortable this new skirt of yours must be, but believe me, you really don’t have the best of legs."

  Neran frowned. "I need some trousers."

  "My old lady can probably sew you a pair."

  Neran looked around the house. It looked exactly as he remembered it. Two fireplaces and a kitschy yellow carpet contributed to the cosiness of the room. There were flowers in the windows, as well as on the table and everywhere else where there was space. Mórn was quite particular about it.

  "Where's your wife?" Neran asked. He had half expected her to have already pounced on him. She had not been too thrilled to have been left with a long-term uninvited guest that needed taking care of.

  "She went out to gossip, of course. I guess you want to see him, right?"

  Neran agreed. His stomach tightened and he felt a heaviness in his chest. As they went into the next room, he felt Liadel’s hand on his arm. She looked at him reassuringly. Strangely enough, he felt much better.

  Gerrat was lying in a corner on a tiny bed, his feet resting on a chair because they protruded out of the bed. He was wrapped in blankets and looked dead. When he saw him, icy fingers of panic momentarily grabbed Neran. As he drew closer, he saw with relief that his brother was breathing.

  "No change from last time," he guessed. Etwik just shook his head. Neran turned to Liadel.

  "Let´s try it."

  Liadel nodded her head in assent. On the inside, Neran was shaking nervously. It must work, it simply has to. If not…

  Liadel bent over Gerrat for an instant and looked at him. She brushed his blond hair from his forehead as if she wanted to take a closer look. Finally, she opened the medallion, opened Gerrat’s lips and poured the Tears of Étarlina into his mouth.

  Neran nearly went mad when nothing happened. They waited a little while longer, but there was no change. Gerrat still looked dead.

  "Dammit," Etwik said, breaking the silence. "I guess you brought too little of it, my friend."

  "There's no telling how long it might take for the nectar to work," Liadel argued.

  "I thought it would be instantaneous," Neran complained. "Maybe we
should shake him ..."

  "No, let’s wait," Liadel decided and everyone went back into the next room. They sat down on low chairs and Neran tried to squeeze his feet under the table. He was out of practice.

  Etwik poured them some mead. "I hope he comes round, otherwise I don’t know what to do with my old lady. Just yesterday she cried about how many gold coins we had spent on his care."

  "As far as I know a half dead Gerrat doesn’t eat too much," Neran argued. Etwik blushed a little. "That’s what I told her, too!"

  "I'm sure it will work," Liadel declared. "We must be patient."

  "So the two of you are so to say...?" Etwik leered at Liadel. Neran replied quickly: "Liadel helped me to get the nectar."

  "That´s right, nothing ties us together," she finished and Neran’s heart sank. He had almost forgotten about it. Liadel had done what he had asked of her and so the magical bond was gone. Now she could go wherever she wanted, unless he tied and locked her up.

  He gulped loudly. "Yeah." He was surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded. "Having said that, the Twelfth Demon is chasing Liadel."

  "And you brought her here?" Etwik cried out. "Are you crazy?"

  "Take it easy, I thought that the Gods of the Mountains..."

  "What? You think that they would protect her? Their legacy is weakening with each passing day. They can´t stop a demon, you fool!"

  Neran frowned. At least he had tried. What else should he have done?

  "It's all right," Liadel replied in a conciliatory voice. "I’ll leave tomorrow. You will not be in danger."

  "You’re going to leave?" Neran cried out before he realized what he was doing. Etwik pierced him with a suspicious look.

  "Yes, Neran. We all have our own goals. You’ve saved your brother and now you can face Aragen together. Provoking demons is even beyond your powers."

  "Aren´t you forgetting something? You´re connected with Aragen and she´s after you too!"

  "If we split up she will have two goals instead of one. It will make it harder for her. You know I´m right."

  Neran was confused. He had what he wanted, yet he now felt not in the least bit happy. What would happen now? If Gerrat woke up, would he forgive him? And if so, then what? Would they attack Aragen? They definitely needed a plan, not only because she was able to destroy them at the snap of her fingers, but mostly because they wouldn´t be able to kill her while she was linked to Liadel.

  And Liadel? Would they say goodbye forever? Would she constantly have to flee from both the Twelfth Demon and Aragen? Or, would the Twelfth join with Aragen? If they did, would they have to devise a new plan?

  "Hey, can someone explain to me what´s going on here?" Etwik demanded. Neran stopped pondering and briefly told him all about Liadel and the events of the previous few weeks. The dwarf looked numb.

  "You brought a demon to my home," he said in amazement.

  "She´s not exactly a demon. How many times do I have to explain?" Neran growled impatiently.

  "I might know a way out of the situation," Etwik suddenly said. "You know the Elven temple of Weimerill, don’t you?"

  "Yes," Liadel replied grimly. "It´s not an option. The priests will recognise me. They will feel my essence and will try to throw me to their Gods. You have to remember that I have escaped from my prison In addition ... if the elves find out that I and Aragen are connected, they will try to kill me. The darkwolves also attack elves.My death and therefore the death of Aragen would solve this problem."

  "I understand that, my dear little elven," Etwik said, raising his index finger wisely, "but the elves don’t have to know anything about your connection. The priests won´t throw you to anyone when they learn how important you are. If they locked you up in a tower or something like that, they would have made you the easiest target possible for the demon!"

  "The survival of the Elven Nation now depends on protecting you," Neran suddenly realized with amazement. Why hadn´t he thought of it sooner?

  "I already tried to suggest this to you once before, Neran," Liadel smiled at him. "I'm afraid that Gariel has ways in which he could force me to set our brothers free."

  "If that happened, Aragen could take your power and together they would turn our world into a slaughterhouse," Neran predicted. He immediately suppressed the part of his ego that enjoyed the idea of it.

  "For now, that's not your concern," Liadel differed. "I can take care of myself."

  "What's so special about that temple?" Neran said, turning towards Etwik.

  "It is a sacred temple of the Gods, which means that their power protects it. I have heard that the Twelfth already managed to lure out a few priests and massacre them, but he cannot get inside. Our dear little elven would be safe there."

  "I´m sorry, but I don’t want to hide all my life. I’ve received another chance and I don’t want to waste it," Liadel countered.

  Etwik suddenly caught sight of the medallion hanging around her neck. Neran knew that look. Those eager, little sparks.

  "I've seen that piece of jewellery somewhere before..." the dwarf muttered.

  "Maybe in the ancient scrolls," Liadel replied with indifference. "It comes from the times when the two of you were not yet begotten."

  "I have definitely read something about it ..." Etwik kept on.

  "That´s absolutely impossible. You would not be able to understand the ancient language of the Thirteen."

  "Or I’ve heard something ..."

  "I’ll leave tomorrow morning, Neran," Liadel said, bring their talk to a conclusion. "We have to say goodbye." With that, she got up and went outside. Neran looked after her for a moment. His head and heart were empty. It was a strangely depressing feeling.

  "Do you know what kind of jewel it is?" Etwik continued.

  "What do I know? It might be some trinket from the past, a memory, or something," Neran snapped and stood up. He went outside and found Liadel at the railing looking down at the lake. He stood beside her.

  "Are you determined?"

  "What did you expect, Neran? You forced me to come on this journey. Now, I'm finally free."

  "Persecuted."

  "That is my destiny. We can never get rid of our past."

  "Liadel..."

  She turned her back to him. "I don’t want to talk about it."

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her towards him. There was surprise in her eyes. "You know very well that you can´t get rid of the Twelfth! You should go to the temple."

  "And hide there forever?"

  "The elves always come up with something."

  She tried to shake him off, but he refused to let her go. "As you told me yourself, this is no longer just about you. The fate of many others depends on you. You have your soul now, don’t you? So use it!"

  Liadel looked away. "It's hard," she whispered. "My old self is still inside me. It´s still a part of me, Neran. I'm the same as I ever was. I don’t care about the others.My own desires prevail over the conscience I was given."

  She spoke with wide eyes and her voice trembled. Neran realized that she was scared. He hugged her instantly. She gave in surprisingly quickly, spilling her warmth throughout his body. It spread through his veins and arteries to his heart and submerged him in a warm, pleasant veil of bliss. In his arms, she was not the terrible, powerful, cold woman he had first met, but fragile and vulnerable, like any other frightened woman.

  "I won´t leave you," he heard himself whisper into her hair, silently cursing himself for being a fool! "I'll go with you, Liadel. Nothing will happen if you stay with me."

  Suddenly the front door burst wide open.

  Neran turned around swiftly and instinctively hid Liadel behind him.

  His jaw dropped in surprise and his heart nearly stopped when he saw his brother on the doorstep.

  Gerrat looked weak and was still as pale as a corpse, but his eyes sparkled. He held the door frame with one of his hands to support himself.

  "I heard you rescued me, my little brother,"
he said hoarsely. "How ironic."

  Neran was sweating, nervous with tension. "You have to admit that you’ve never had as long a sleep as that before."

  For a moment, he expected Gerrat to attack him.

  Instead, he laughed.

  "You bastard!" he chuckled until he coughed. Neran approached him cautiously.

  "How are you? Fit as a fiddle again?"

  "I will be soon."

  Neran squeezed his shoulder and then gave his brother a big hug. He felt the boulder that had weighed on his heart for months, slowly crumble to pieces.

  "How long was I ... asleep?"

  Neran slowly released him. "Seven months, little brother. I’m sorry."

  Chapter 21

  Brothers

  Midnight had past when Neran decided to creep out of bed and walk down to the bank of the little lake in front of the house. He sat there and listened to the croaking chatter of the frogs. After a while the intrusive noises became a nuisance and he threw a stone into the reeds to make the frogs go silent. It didn´t last long. They quickly resumed their chatter, even louder than before.

  Neran sighed. Today had been a really tough day, and yet he could not fall asleep. After returning home, Mórn had almost jump as high as the ceiling with joy when she saw that Gerrat was healthy. He could not help but think that it was mainly because she would be finally rid of him. Gerrat seemed to be in really good health. He did not even seem to be too angry with Neran. He genuinely seemed to be glad to see that his brother was no longer under Aragen’s influence. Gerrat had looked at Liadel with suspicion and did not like the fact that he had somehow befriended a former demon. Neran worried about what he would say when he learned that he had offered Liadel his protection?

  Other than for the frogs, the night was generally quiet. A couple of fires flickered in the background. Neran could also hear the muffled sounds of hilarious laughter and drunken merriment as the dwarves celebrated at their neighbour’s homes. He did not smell his brother until he stood directly beside him. Gerrat was good at sneaking about.