Authors: B. V. Larson
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Magic & Wizards, #Mythology & Folk Tales, #Fairy Tales, #Arthurian, #Superhero, #Sword & Sorcery
The
Axe shifted on his back, and Brand rolled his shoulders uncomfortably to calm it. The Wee Folk watched him attentively, noticing the interplay. But they didn’t say anything further. They waited for him to speak.
“I’m seeking one known as Trev,”
Brand said. “Is he among you today?”
“Trev?” said Aden, “The half-breed? Indeed
, he is.”
“May I ask you to lead me to him?”
The two exchanged glances. “We had a bargain, Axeman,” said Ida.
“What?” snapped Brand. “I’ve made a civil request, and I expect it to be honored. These are my lands, and you live here at my invitation.”
“What you say is mostly true,” said Aden. “But we made a bargain, let me remind you. We are to live free and unmolested on this tiny sliver of land.”
“Yes,” Brand said with difficulty. “That is the essence of our bargain. Now, I wish you to lead me to Trev. Immediately.”
The two Wee Folk looked nervous, but determined. Behind him, Brand knew his men were watching the exchange with growing tension. There could never be perfect trust between the Fae and humanity. Both sides had suffered too much at the hands of the other over the centuries and they were too different in outlook to completely understand one another, even now.
“If you would, kind sir,” began Ida, stepping forward, “swear not to arrest
Trev, and we will do as you ask.”
Brand’s brow furrowed into
a storm. “Why must I so swear? What has he done to wrong me?”
The two looked surprised. “Not
hing, by our account. But humans are so picky. Perhaps, in your eyes, he has performed a crime. We are not sure.”
Brand sighed loudly.
“All right,” he said, waving his hands in defeat. “I do so swear, for this one day, I will not arrest Trev unless both your people and mine agree I should.”
“Excellent!” said Aden,
turning around and bounding away. “Then follow us!”
They
traveled through the village to the far side, where they came to a hut. There before it sat Kaavi. She was alone.
“Kaavi?”
“Brand!” she cried, springing up and running to him.
Brand could not believe it. She had not aged a day. She was still as young and nubile as ever. Had she truly squatted here for years, doing nothing of note, while he sought to build a kingdom around her? He wasn’t sure
how long she’d been here, but he was glad to see her.
Telyn had made him swear not to seek her out, as there had been certain moments of unexpected contact between the two
of them in the past. Brand had followed his wife’s wishes for years—but he still dreamt of Kaavi from time to time.
“Have you come to visit me?” Kaavi
asked. “It’s been so long. Is Telyn…still around?”
Brand opened his mouth then closed it again. “She’s abroad right now, visiting Riverton I should think.”
“Oh. Would it be…an
extended
visit?”
Brand
didn’t know quite what to say. Kaavi was wasting no time in embarrassing him. Already, his guardsmen out in the lane were whispering among themselves. If this conversation should get back to Telyn, even a hint of such talk…
“Kaavi, I’m looking for Trev.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Not for me?”
“I’
m always happy to see you, but—”
“But you haven’t found time to come down here for years and do just that. How long is a girl supposed to wait?”
There was a guffaw out upon the roadway behind him. Brand reddened.
“Is Trev here
or not, good lady?”
Kaavi made a show of looking around her tiny camp. “I don’t see him.”
Brand sighed. Kaavi stirred her tea and poured two tiny cups.
“Here, sip with me for a moment. Perhaps we can help one another.”
“All right,” he said.
Brand
turned and ordered his guardsmen back to their barracks. Darkness was falling at last, and since he’d agreed not to arrest Trev, he thought it would be easier to get to the bottom of things if he sent his troops away. They left with a mixture of relief and disappointment. Then he sat with Kaavi and sipped her tea.
“Why are you hiding Trev from me?”
he asked her.
“Why did you bring soldiers with you from your castle?”
They looked at one another, and finally Brand nodded. “You’re protecting him. In my experience, a man who needs protection is not an innocent man.”
“That depends on who is pursuing him, and why.”
Brand rolled his eyes. “I’ve sworn not to arrest him today unless both you and I think it should be done. Is that not guarantee enough? Bring him forward so I may speak with him.
Kaavi furrowed her pretty eyebrows together, and Brand thought she was going to continue evading him. But at that moment, Trev produced himself and joined the other two at the fire.
“May I have another cup of your tea, Auntie? I like it very much.”
“Only half,” she said, pouring it out and handing it to him.
Brand looked at Trev in surprise. He’d grown so much. He’d been a child the last time he’d seen him, and now he was taller than Puck had been.
“You look like your father and mother both,” Brand said.
“That’s not uncommon in such situations,” Trev said seriously.
Brand laughed. This broke some of the tension between the three, and the two Fae joined him, laughing with him.
Brand paused to look at the cup in his hand. The walnut husk was empty. What had that tiny draught been? Could it have cooled his mind? He wanted another drink and almost asked for it. Kaavi was stirring her kettle slowly and glancing at him, smiling.
Brand opened his mouth, but then closed it again. She’d only given her own kin
sman half a cup in his presence. He figured one cup was enough for now. His mood was elevated, but he wanted to be able to think, should the need arise. He set the walnut husk down on a rock, and Kaavi glanced at it in disappointment.
“Let’s talk seriously, Trev. Why have you come
to Castle Rabing today?”
“I’m on a quest, and I came to ask for help.”
These words concerned Brand. Could it be that Old Hob had spoken the truth? His first inclination was to offer the boy any aid he could provide—but Hob had warned him, and he was wary.
“Tell me about your quest,” Brand said.
“I can’t do that.”
Brand’s face fell. “And why not?”
“Because you might try to stop me.”
“How can I help you if you won’t tell me what you want?”
“I can ask you questions, and you can answer them.”
Brand nodded. “All right. Ask. But I must warn you that I may not answer you, and if I do, you might not like what I say.”
“That’s part of the danger with questions, isn’t it?”
“Just so
!” said Kaavi suddenly.
Brand looked at her.
She was sipping a third cup of her tea, and it seemed to be affecting her now. Her eyes were slightly glassy and unfocussed, but she seemed fully aware of her surroundings. Brand surmised she’d grown accustomed to her own brew.
Brand looked back at Trev. “Ask.”
“Where would you seek a Jewel of Power?”
Brand narrowed his eyes. “
Seek to possess it, you mean? They all have masters, do they not? Oberon wields the Red since Piskin died. I wield the Amber, and Tomkin still masters Lavatis. Then there is Pyros, which Gudrin never parts with, and that leaves only the Green which presumably is owned by Myrrdin, wherever he’s gotten himself off to. But those aren’t the Jewels you’re interested in, are they?”
“No,” Trev said. “Those you’ve listed have owners.”
Trev looked at Brand expectantly.
“Well, there is of course the Lavender. Old Hob still has that—does he not?”
“I would think you could answer that better than I. The word is he visited here today and you two spoke in private.”
“Only after
you frightened your own guardsmen half to death!” Kaavi exclaimed unexpectedly. She gave a whoop of laughter.
Brand
smiled at her. She was becoming drunk, he thought. She returned his gaze frankly, and it took an effort of will for him to rip his eyes from her fine face and turn them back to Trev again.
“Are you inquiring about Osang?
” Brand asked Trev. “Old Hob’s one true love?”
“No,” Trev shook his head again. “What of the others?”
Brand thought for a moment. “That leaves only the Dark Jewels. The White, the Quicksilver—and the Black.” Brand stood up in sudden alarm. He almost reached for his Axe, but managed to control his fingers when they were two inches from the handle.
“The Black!” he shouted. “You know where it lies still, in the Riverton crypt. You were there when we laid it to rest with all those it had killed. Unless you are trying to tell me it has moved, or you seek it!”
Brand had been hoping to catch him, perhaps making him look sheepish, but he could tell that wasn’t going to happen. There was too much shameless elf-blood in the boy’s veins. Trev just smiled as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
“Calm down, Brand,” Trev said. “I didn’t
name the Black as my goal.”
“You also said you were sworn not to reveal your quest. So it might be that you seek Necron. Let me warn you, boy: I will not allow you to wield it.
Not for a day, an hour, or even a second.”
Brand felt a flood of suspicion. The emotion was almost overwhelming. Everything was instantly clear to him. Trev had been there when they’d buried the Black and entombed it. He had wielded it briefly and almost died because of its cold touch.
“Listen to me,” Brand said, still standing. “You must not dream of the Black. I know you touched it when you were young. Maybe it calls out to you. Maybe it comes to you in your dreams, begging to be let out. Don’t let it grip your mind, Trev. It’s an evil thing.”
Trev frowned back at Brand. “I do dream of it, from time to time. How could I not? But I don’t think I’m in its grasp. I don’t feel a power from it, an urge to love it as you love that Axe which twitches and twists on your back.”
Brand noticed then that the boy spoke the truth. His Axe was squirming on his back, trying to push up the haft and get it into his hand. Slowly, Brand lowered his hand away from the handle, and it eased back down disappointedly.
“All right then. If not the Black, then that leaves only the
White and the Quicksilver. Both are lost and haven’t been seen for an age.”
“What can you tell me of them?”
Brand shrugged. “I don’t know much. Only what Myrrdin and Gudrin have told me. Both of them know more than I. The White is a chip of the original Sunstone. It is sometimes referred to as the Sunstone, and is supposedly pure. Some say it can warp minds like no other Jewel can. The Quicksilver is immune to the power of the others. I don’t know if it does anything else. But in any case, I can’t tell you where either might be, or where they were last seen. That’s all I know of them.”
“I thank you in any case,” Trev said seriously.
Brand smiled faintly. He felt that he’d dodged a dangerous dilemma. Old Hob had warned him not to tell the boy anything—and he hadn’t. Not because he refused, but because he honestly didn’t know the answers. He felt relieved. He hadn’t wanted to turn the boy away, but he hadn’t wanted to take the chance Old Hob’s warning had been given in earnest, either. This way he hadn’t helped him or misguided him, and his worries died away.
Kaavi was looking at him again, smiling.
Such a lovely face
, he thought. It seemed to him she had a greater pull upon his heart than even the last time they’d been sitting around a fire together. He’d aged, and she hadn’t. But he knew she didn’t look at it that way. She didn’t think of herself as too young for him.
He gave his head a shake, and then found her hands cupping his. He looked down, and saw his walnut husk was in his palm. The brew shone slightly in the dark forest
, glimmering like liquid gold.
“Now that your worries have passed, will you take a half-cup more?” she asked.
Brand grinned and nodded. He threw down the drink, and it tasted delicious. He soon forgot about Trev and all the rest of his problems.
He talked and laughed with Kaavi until it grew late and the fire dimmed.
Chapter Three
Trev’s Bargain
In the morning, Brand awoke groaning. It wasn’t dawn, his customary time of awakening, but at least an hour past. He forced himself into a sitting position.
It took a moment for him to realize that he was not at home in his keep. He was not in a sumptuous bed with eiderdown cushions
and dyed furs for blankets. He was in a gloomy forest, with birds singing.
Blinking
his bleary eyes, he saw a thatch of twigs over his head. They were woven together in an intricate pattern, with each leaf tucked precisely so as to shed rain but not block light.
Realizing where he was, he scrambled up, and almost knocked down the hut. He came out of it, looking back.
He saw a bed of furs cast on the dry floor. There was an impression there that matched his form, and next to it was evidence that a much smaller body had slept beside him.
He looked around and at first saw nothing. No Kaavi, no Trev. He tried to recall how the night had gone…my how that elf-brew could hit a man! He’d been wary of it until Trev’s questions had fizzled out, and then he’d given in. He
remembered accepting another half-cup—but had there been more? He could not recall.
He rubbed his face, eyes wide in alarm. He looked into the hut
again. Had he bedded Kaavi? Finally, after all these long years, had he done what he’d wanted to do all along? He couldn’t remember.
In his dreams for a decade or more he’d lain with Kaavi numerous times. Now, those dream-like whispering memories were entwined together with last night,
the memory of which felt like a hazy dream to him now.
“There you are, sleepy-head!” Kaavi cried, making him whirl around
toward the trees.
She carried an armful of sticks she’d gathered to the firepit and cast them onto the smoldering ashes. The embers beneath were still hot, and it looked like they’d been carefully banked and covered to keep them alive. She prodded the pit carefully, and soon a tongue of orange flame danced up and licked at the fresh fuel.
“I know how hungry a man like you can be in the morning,” Kaavi said. “It’s been so long since I’ve had visitors I’ve almost forgotten how to cook.”
Brand put out his hand and took her arm, pulling her around to face him.
“Kaavi,” he said, breathlessly, “did we…? I mean, did I…?”
“What?” she asked looking up at him wide-eyed. She was so small, she looked to be half his size or less.
“I don’t remember what I did last night. What was that tea you gave me?”
“A potent brew,” she said. “That’s why I give it out in such tiny cups. I didn’t think a man your size would be taken away, but…”
“Come on, Kaavi,” he said. “Just tell me what happened.”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
Brand sighed and sat down hard on a rock. He winced, and watched as she began to cook. He felt despondent. If he had bedded Kaavi…well, he didn’t want to think about it. Telyn would be furious if she ever found out. He was a married man—a happily married man. He grew frustrated the more he thought about it.
“You tricked me,” he said. “You got me to drink, and you got what you wanted afterward, is that it? All this business and mystery about Trev meant nothing.”
Kaavi laughed. “My, how much you must think of yourself! Am I such a poor unsightly creature that I must pine away for years, dreaming nightly of the great Brand? Then, I hatch a fine scheme that only took me a decade to come up with: to get Old Hob to visit you, giving you dire warnings. In a complex plot, I weave a spell and have my way with the innocent, middle-aged River Boy at last.”
“
Humph,” he said. “It wasn’t like that. You saw an opportunity and took it. No scheming required beyond whatever you did last night.”
Kaavi shrugged and began cooking bacon on a skillet. The smell was wonderful, and Brand’s mouth was soon watering.
“Telyn doesn’t like me to eat bacon,” he said.
“Oh really?”
Brand watched her. Was this another ploy, or was he becoming hopelessly paranoid?
“All right,” he said. “I give up. I won’t be angry. I won’t shout. Just tell me what happened. I want to know, and I think you owe me that much, if you would call me friend.”
Kaavi fed him strips of bacon, which he devoured hungrily. She was right, he was ravenous. Did that mean…? He couldn’t be sure.
“I can’t tell you Brand.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because I promised not to.”
Brand stared at her. “Who did you promise? Can you at least tell me that?”
She laughed again. “Such suspicion! I promised
you
silly. You made me swear that I would never tell a soul.”
Brand
almost choked. “But that doesn’t mean
me
! Surely, you can tell the man who made you promise!”
She shook her head sadly. “I can’t. You would not have me break my word for such a trivial thing, would you?”
“I hereby release you from your promise,” he said.
Kaavi
shook her head again. “You know it doesn’t work that way. I’m bound.”
Brand huffed and chewed, thinking hard. Had he bedded this elf girl at last? It was perfectly possible. It seemed unfair that he couldn’t even remember the act, if he had indeed performed
it. He knew such details wouldn’t matter to Telyn if she found out. Kaavi’s life wouldn’t be worth a sack of beans—nor would his, for that matter.
Looking around the camp, he was struck with a new thought.
“Where’s Trev?” he asked.
“He’s gone.”
“Where? When?”
“Last night. He said he knew what to do now, and he told me to give you his thanks. Then he left before midnight.”
Brand’s mouth sagged open. “Left? To where?”
Kaavi shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Brand stood up, his heart was pounding. “He had what he wanted? You say he thanked me for helping him? What does that mean?”
Kaavi shrugged and seemed disinterested. “Would you like more bacon? I have a few strips left.”
Brand made a long sigh of exasperation. “Any human woman would at least be curious where their nephew was off to at midnight!”
“Well, I’m not a human woman.
Trev is full grown now, his business is his own.”
Brand walked away toward the road. He felt an urgent need to find the boy—or at least to learn where he was going. Had he made a grievous error? Had he somehow told the boy what he wanted to hear, and done what Old Hob had warned him not to? As was so often the case when dealing closely with the Faerie, he felt lost and uneasy.
“You’re just going to march off, then?” Kaavi asked behind him.
He turned. “I’m sorry. I’m distracted. Do I
owe
you a farewell embrace?”
She shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything, Brand. Not unless you want to
give it.”
He walked back to her and gave her an awkward hug. After he released her, she coughed.
“Sorry,” he said. “I can’t even do that right.”
“I’m fine.”
He looked her up and down. “Are you a virgin?” he asked suddenly.
For once—perhaps the first time in her entire life—Kaavi looked embarrassed. “That’s a rather surprising question, Brand.”
“You can answer it, can’t you?”
Kaavi
thought about it. “I suppose I can… No, I’m not.”
“
Then was last night…?”
She smiled and shook her head at him, touching his nose with her outstretched finger. “You made me promise not to tell!”
He sighed, kissed the top of her head, and walked out of the forest. It wasn’t until he reached the lane outside that he was struck by a sudden thought: If she had been a virgin until last night, and he had lain with her—she must be with child already. Under these circumstances, there was always a child, and it might come out like Trev, or it might not.
Brand
walked back to his keep, lost in thought. He did not reach his study until midday. Over and over again, he replayed the events of the night in his head. He did seem to recall touching and caressing Kaavi, but that could have been a fantasy or a dream as easily as a memory.
But he did know one thing, if he had impregnated her, she would have a half-breed. That could be good, or it could be awful. He thought about ogres like Ivor and w
orse things.
It was early afternoon by the time he thought to inquire about Trev’s whereabouts. That boy had come and gone so quickly, so quietly. All he could find out was that his guardsmen had let him out
through the western gates late at night, after being talked into it by the friendly youth.
Brand
stood on the battlements, gazing west. What was out that way? Swamp, and then the Black Mountains. Little else.
Snowdon arose
in the west, the mountain’s top gleaming white with snow as the sun touched it and the mists cleared completely.
He
stared, and he had a sudden, disturbing thought. He knew with sudden certainty where Trev had gone. The boy planned to see Gudrin.
He could not recall much of their talk, but he did remember Trev’s question about the Dark Jewels. Brand had told him he didn’t know much, and had thus been relieved.
But he’d also told Trev who knew more: Gudrin and Myrrdin.
The boy was heading to the Earthlight, Brand felt sure of it. He
had
aided Trev on his quest accidentally. It was the only answer he could think of. Why else had he departed hastily to the west and left Kaavi with his thanks?
Brand
rushed down the stone steps of his keep, taking them two at a time. He donned his cloak in such a hurry that it hung askew and when he stepped into the courtyard he roared for his horse. By the time night fell over the land, he was galloping along the lonely marsh roads toward Snowdon.
Trev had a day’s head start, and he was fast on his feet, but Brand was determined to get to Gudrin before he did.
* * *
After crushing the elf village and leaving it behind, Myrrdin began to worry. His wits were returning slowly, and he began to realize he was far from invincible in his living tree. A good fire or a steady chopping of axemen—there were many ways to bring down a tree whether it walked or not.
He knew he didn’t have much time. The elves weren’t going to allow him to rampage throughout the Great Erm as long as he wished, after destroying one of their settlements. They would gather their warriors and huntsmen and track him down. As a single tree, even a tremendous one, they would eventually take him down. Perhaps Oberon himself would do it, wielding the Red Jewel and creating blood abominations from his fallen.
And then
they would cut out the Jewel Vaul from the depths of the tree he rode within. He could feel Vaul now, beating like a huge green heart at the center of the mass of wood-flesh that surrounded them both. He knew that if the light of it could be seen a witness would observe it flashing brilliantly with each step the ponderous oak took.
When they finally brought him down, the elves would scramble over him like ants and tear holes in his black bark, revealing the splintering white flesh beneath. Wet with fresh sap, they’d steep themselves in it until they had dug the Jewel out and taken it from him.
That was the single thought he could not bear to contemplate. Even though he was half-mad and filled with anger, he could not conceive of losing Vaul again after having so recently regained it. The mere concept was painful to him. He could risk his life, but could not bear the loss of his beloved green stone.
And so he retreated after his initial onslaught into the trackless depths of the forest. In any normal overgrown region this would not have saved him. His body was so huge now, so impossibly bulky, it tore a hole through the brush, leaving a path a child could identify and follow to its end.
But the Great Erm was no normal forest. It was full of life, almost as if Vaul drove the place wild all the time. Not only did everything grow to tremendous size here, but it grew quickly as well. So quickly that a trail blazed through it would vanish behind them within a dozen hours.
He rode his oak the way a
lord rides his horse after he’s had too much to drink and wields his whip with abandon. If the tree could breathe, it would have frothed and foam would have blown through it nostrils. It would have been huffing and puffing, crying out as things clawed and chipped sticky holes in its bark—but it could do none of those things. For it was a living, moving plant. A huge, dumb thing. Silent, ignorant and almost unstoppable. Its mindlessness made it lower than the most stupid beast in the Erm.
Ivor strode
in Myrrdin’s wake, often glancing from side to side in concern, wondering where they were going and alert for danger. Myrrdin ignored his nephew because the creature seemed content to follow the great tree into the depths of the green-black hell they marched through.