Legends of the Exiles

by Jesse Teller

  “No.”

  “No, I can’t ask a question?”

  “No, the answer is no.”

  “How do you even know what I’m going to ask?” Helena asked.

  “You’re going to ask if you can work the hall with the women and older girls during the feast. You want me to ask Magna if you can join us. You want me to tell her how good a cook I have made you, and how hard a worker you are, and you want me to tell her that I vouch for you. I’m not going to do it.”

  “Why?” Helena said. “I won’t embarrass you.”

  “Oh, sweet child, you could never embarrass me. No, I will not ask her for you because I want you out there with the other girls watching Erick take his brand, seeing him with his friends and seeing them with him. If you are helping in the hall, you will miss all that. You need to be a girl for a while longer. You have plenty of time to drive the boys and men crazy. I will get you in that hall, but not this time. This time, you play. You will thank me. Just watch Erick take his brand. You might like it.”

  “Erick is a beast, and I hate him.”

  “Lie,” Terala said. “You don’t like my nephew, but you don’t hate him. He will win you over one day.”

  Helena crinkled her nose. “Erick Flurryfist is who you want me to marry?”

  “You two would make a smart pair. Pretty babies, too.”

  Helena finished her first onion roll and started the second.

  “The Flurryfist men are brutes,” Helena said.

  “She is on to something there,” Rugga said as he walked out of the back room.

  Helena froze. “I didn’t mean that you were a brute, Ruggamon. You’re a good guy. Not like the others.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, and she sighed.

  “No, I mean that you are not, well you know, you’re a bit of a—”

  “Shut your mouth around that roll,” Ruggamon said. “You’re making it worse.” He winked at her as she bit into the roll. “I have to go see Father. We are in the last stages of planning Erick’s big day. They will start arriving tomorrow. We must be ready.”

  “And you will be. Tell my father-in-law that I am at his service if he needs me,” Terala said.

  *******

  When the Beastscowls arrived, she nearly screamed. Helena had never seen anything like them, and she fought for control of her fear and held her ground. The other girls her age backed away. The children ran. The wives pulled close to their husbands, and even the men dropped their hands to their weapons. There was no preparing for the sight of the two young men walking up the street. Helena realized if she had been warned, she never could have been ready for the Beastscowl boys striding into the Flurryfist village.

  His name was Hunet, his little brother’s name Brenden. They walked like no other men walked. They had a face like no other men she had ever seen. Their stare was so intense it almost left a bruise. Their stride was the gait of a god. Hunet wore a blood red feather in his hair and carried a massive spear no mortal man could use in battle. He wore a thick, bear fur cloak and nothing else on his chest. He wore a chain mail skirt and no boots. His hair was oiled and pulled tight to a shine, and he snarled when he spoke to his younger brother.

  The legend said these were Gerber’s sons. Gerber was the bastay to the Redfist and the most feared man to walk the nation in generations. He had been born to the outland and served the Redfist when he was of age. His brother who ruled on the mountain died ten years earlier, much to the sorrow of the land, and there had been no Beastscowls on the mountain since.

  Gerber had become bastay, so there was no way for him to come back. For a decade, no Beastscowl walked the mountain, until on his fifteenth birthday, Hunet showed up with his younger brother, Brenden. They were so fierce, the legend said, that the chief who sat the throne of their village jumped off a cliff to escape Hunet’s challenge.

  Hunet approached with Brenden and a hundred other men. Every one of them looked nearly insane with rage. As they walked in, the rest of the village pulled back. Helena watched them walk past her, and when they continued on, she followed.

  As they walked up the stairs, she followed close. They were greeted on the second level, outside the Flurryfist home by Cochran, Rugga, Erick and Virgil. Hunet jammed his spear into the ground and embraced them all. At seventeen, he was still the most terrifying thing she had ever seen, and she could not take her eyes off him. She looked to Brenden, seeing such strength she went flush. She had to get closer to him if she could. She just wanted to touch him.

  A day later, Burle Steeltooth and his brother, Helgor, arrived. They walked with the Stonefist boy and four hundred warriors. Burle walked beside a beauty Helena had never seen before, but legend told of her years ago. She was Tetla Steeltooth, and she seemed a flower that bedecked Burle’s arm. The mighty shield of Ankor rode his other arm. Helgor Steeltooth and Jordai Stonefist walked beside him.

  Jordai was a beautiful boy, and the sword he wore was a beacon of hope. She had never seen a mightier weapon in her life. She felt safe in its presence. Her heart fluttered in her chest. He was more handsome than anything she had ever seen, more perfect than a boy should be.

  Burle stopped at the center of the road going into the village and waited. When Cochran and Rugga met him, Burle bowed low and rapped two knuckles on his shield. “We request the hospitality of your village and would be honored to be your guests,” he said. The way he talked was inspiring. His poise and formal way made her feel real pride for her people. She was surprised a sixteen-year-old man could inspire such feelings in her. Cochran nodded at Burle.

  “We would be honored and filled with pride to have a man such as you, and such shining boys, at our table. Please, Steeltooth, do not stand on ceremony. Come embrace me as friend and ally,” Cochran said.

  They hugged, and Cochran kissed Tetla’s cheek.

  “Where is my longtime friend Gaulator Stonefist? He sends his son to me but does not come himself.”

  Jordai stepped forward and tried to speak, but the words came out a croak. He cleared his throat and shook his head. He went flush before bowing to Cochran and continuing.

  “My father is a practical man,” Jordai said. “He could not bring himself to deny our village the blood of the Seven. He sends me to represent my family and asks that you accept his apologies for his absence.”

  Jordai was terrified at the thought of the words that might come out of Cochran’s mouth. He was holding it at bay, but Helena could sense his panic. She looked away, back at Tetla and Burle. She needed a man like that, fearless. Jordai would not do.

  It had to be Brenden. If she was going to find a man who would satisfy her, it would have to be the Son of Beasts. She summoned up her courage and looked up and away at the young man standing at the second level of the village.

  *******

  “What are they all doing here?” Helena asked Terala as the Flurryfist woman walked the stairs to the hall above.

  “Four of the Sons of the Seven have come to take their brands in the village of our fathers. It is a great honor to have them here. It has been generations since this many of the Seven blood have been branded at once in our humble home.”

  Helena had heard tales of the other villages. She knew the Flurryfist village was not humble. It was the grandest by miles of the homes of the mountain, but she would never say so.

  “If you are going to walk with me, then you’re going to help,” Terala said. “Take this.” She handed Helena a great bundle of chickens, all dead, feathered, and bound at the ankles. Helena hoisted them and followed. Terala carried four trays, stacked and prepped with tubers and hot peppers. “Now, this is what I want you to do. Get as close to those boys as you can, watch them and the way they act. It is natural for their blood to be noble. It grows in their bones. Watch them and see what a man is supposed to be.”

  “I know a man when I see one, Terala,” Helena said. She thought of Deispa and his terrible tongue, and crinkled up her nose.

  “I’m sure you do but w
atch anyway.”

  They reached the main hall. The four boys sat on the front porch. Erick sat the stairs. Brenden stood beside them, with Jordai leaning against the railing and Helgor sitting beside Erick. They looked like young gods, and she blushed as Brenden’s eyes alighted on hers. His eyes widened, and she smiled at him.

  When they approached the doors, every boy flinched to get up, but Jordai beat them all, getting to the door to open it. Brenden grabbed the trays from Terala with a sly look on his face, but she stopped him.

  “Absolutely not, young Beastscowl. I carried these trays up seventy-four steps, I can get them the last four. You want to get a peek within the hall. You will have to wait for your big night for that, young sir.”

  He nodded, and Erick laughed.

  How Helena disliked him.

  She entered the hall, all lit up. Torches burned from sconces on the pillars. Four fireplaces burned, and within, a cacophony of smells brought her stomach rumbling. A woman she had never seen before walked by. Helena thought her from a different village, but the woman used her name when she spoke.

  “Helena Dreadheart,” the woman said. “I want you to take those chickens and butcher them. I need the skin un-punctured, so be careful.”

  “No, Bixle, she is not aiding us tonight,” Terala said.

  “I can help. I’m good with a knife.” Helena turned to Bixle and nodded emphatically.

  “I already gave you a chore to do, Helena. Now you are on your way to doing it. Go now,” Terala said.

  Helena groaned but got moving.

  She stood near the boys, and the entire village came to see them, as well. The other boys played vigorously, wooden swords clacking and banging. The girls giggled and laughed and flashed their eyes at the four of them, but the Sons of the Seven seemed locked in deep discussion.

  Through the crowd walked a tall, thin man with short blond hair and a bow on his back. He wore green leathers with bare feet and carried a knife on his hip. The four boys looked up, shouting. Erick jumped to his feet and rushed to the young man, wrapping him in an embrace and lifting him off the ground. The boy’s face reddened as he swung, and Helena thought his head would burst from his shoulders.

  The other three boys fell in around him, and he was set down.

  “Betten, I did not know you would be here,” Helgor said.

  Betten? Did he say Betten? There was no way this was the same boy. Helena heard the other boys talking but could not stop herself from stepping forward.

  “Beast Boy?” she said. “You are my Beast Boy? The Bear Slayer?”

  Betten’s blank face stared at her before it broke open in a huge smile. “Helena Dreadheart!” He rushed to her and hugged her. She hugged him back. She could smell berries and sap on him.

  “You know Helena?” Erick said.

  “You know Erick?” she responded.

  “I do. I ran into Helena a few years ago. We had a bit of an adventure together. And I have hunted with Erick all of his life.”

  “I’m sorry, that must be horrible,” Helena said.

  The collection of boys went silent. Helena thought she had stepped over a line before Brenden howled in laughter and the rest of them joined in. Erick stared at her with a mixture of mirth and something else on his face. She winked at him.

  Erick smiled at her, and she felt warm. She pulled her eyes from him and reminded herself he was a brute.

  “This is Helena Dreadheart? I have heard of her father but never imagined he had brought to the world such a beauty,” Jordai said. He stepped forward and kissed her hand.

  Helgor laughed. “She is beautiful, to be sure. But what does Brenden think?”

  Helena smiled and looked at Brenden. She looked him up and down and folded her hands behind her back. His eyes swept her body and lingered on her face before they stopped at her eyes. His face did not change. He seemed to look at her with the intensity of a dozen men, his eyes burning and seething as he stared at her.

  “Is she pretty enough?” Helgor said.

  A tremble ran through her, and she turned to Helgor. “What does that mean?” Helena said. “Pretty enough for what?”

  “Brenden said he will kiss the prettiest girl in the Flurryfist village when he is branded a man,” Erick said. “Said it will be his first act as a man.”

  A rush of excitement ran through her body. Many of the men and women had long said she was the prettiest girl the village boasted. As she grinned at Brenden, he stared at her with a sad look on his face.

  “She is as pretty as Decimaia,” Brenden said. “A face to go to war for.”

  The four boys went silent. Helena ran the name through her mind. Decimaia was a name she did not know.

  “I don’t think I will kiss her tonight,” Brenden said. “Wars and respect and all.”

  Helena played back the ridiculous words he had just said. She shook her head. “What?”

  “Wisdom,” Jordai said. “I call it fair.”

  “What are you talking about? Who is Decimaia?” Helena asked.

  “A man would be hard pressed to find a more beautiful girl to kiss,” Betten said. Helena looked at him and loved him a little.

  “Some things are more important than beauty,” Helgor said.

  Helena looked at Erick and huffed. He did not say a word. He would not even look her in the eye, and she scowled at them all and walked away. She walked to the group of her friends and crossed her arms. She tried to figure out what just happened.

  When the afternoon dragged on and night approached, the great bell of Flurryfist rang out five times. The entire village groaned and everyone went home. Five rings was the retreat to the houses. The chief wanted everyone inside, and Helena made her way to her father’s house slowly. She had just about reached the front door when a hand gripped her elbow, turning her around.

  “Not you,” Rugga said. “You have been invited.”

  “Invited where? To what? By who?” Helena asked.

  “Too many questions. Just come, girl. Just please, for once, just come,” he said. She giggled and followed. At least she did not have to go home.

  They climbed the stairs to the uppermost level of the village, where a small crowd gathered at the Warrior’s Circle.

  “What is this?” she whispered to Malsha, who seemed terrified and a bit out of place.

  “The Sons of the Seven are going to spar,” she said.

  Helena’s heart stopped. There was no way she thought she would ever see such a thing. She looked out over the circle, the four boys tying on padded leathers and hooding their weapons.

  “Why am I here? What do they want from me?” Malsha asked.

  “Not important,” Helena said. “I have to pick a champion.” She reached down to her dress, one of her favorites, but she had no time. She pulled a small knife she carried everywhere, and she cut the hem out of the dress. She shoved her way around the circle until she stood before Jordai. He was pulling a leather helmet on his head. He looked at her, shocked.

  “Here, I want you to have this.” She handed him the hem. It looked like a rag, and she was immediately embarrassed.

  Jordai stared at it like it was a dead thing. He glanced at Erick. Erick nodded, and Helena huffed. Jordai smiled at Helena. He took the hem, bound it around his arm and nodded at her. She looked at Erick and decided she did hate him. She kissed Jordai fast on the cheek and turned to go.

  She stepped wrong, and since the dress had a ragged hem now, she got her feet bound up in it. She tumbled at Brenden’s feet landing hard on her elbows.

  She rolled over to her side and reached a hand up to Brenden Beastscowl.

  “No,” Erick said. “Helena Dreadheart does not need a man to help her to her feet.”

  Helena fumed. She shoved her way up, turned to Erick. She pointed her finger in his face and stabbed it at him menacingly. “I don’t care what you think of me, Erick Flurryfist!” she shouted. The circle went silent. She shoved her way out of the crowd and was nearly to the stairs when she
realized she very much did want to see the bout. She huffed, summoned up what remained of her pride, and wiped the dirt from her elbows.

  Cochran slapped his impossible hands together and a hush fell over the audience. “The boy must fight the night of his branding. It does not matter if he wins or loses. But it is customary for him to spar someone. In times of war, a boy takes the field beside his father and earns the right to stand for his brand. This is not that time. But we still wanted the Sons to spar, and they desired it as well. I have drawn lots, and our first match will be Helgor Steeltooth against Brenden Beastscowl.”

  Helena hung her hopes on Helgor. She wanted Brenden to be as embarrassed as she had been when he denied her. She pressed her way through the crowd for a better vantage point before she found Betten and stood beside him. He wrapped a comforting arm across her shoulders as Hunet Beastscowl walked out of the circle to stand before Burle Steeltooth. Helgor lined up behind his brother and Brenden behind his.

  “Today, you will not see either of our fathers,” Burle said. “In fact, not a single one of the fathers of any of these boys will be able to brand him. For one reason or the next, the fathers of these boys are absent. Breathos Steeltooth, father of Helgor, died in battle years ago fighting beside Erick’s father. So, for Breathos, I will stand in,” Burle said.

  Hunet spoke, “Gerber Beastscowl stands beside the Redfist, and has sent his sons to fight for the mountain. I am one of those sons. I will set my brother loose on the world tonight, and it will not be the same after he has passed through it. Tonight, that legacy begins. Tonight, when Burle and I step aside, my brother is unbound from the cage of childhood.” Hunet turned to Burle and embraced him. “May our two lines live forever as friends and allies. And let this testing of skill strengthen our hold on one another’s respect.”

  Burle smiled. “I give you Helgor Steeltooth, son of Breathos,” he said to the crowd.

  “And I unleash Brenden Beastscowl, son of Gerber,” Hunet replied.