Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias
April 14, 708 CR
Lindsey didn't sleep well, but he did sleep. The morning dawned cold
and gray, with the ground lightly covered in frost. The young boy
stood at the entrance to the paddocks staring out at the southern
meadow and wanted nothing more than to run away into the woods and
never come back. Today was the day he risked everything to free his homeland.
"Zhypar," he whispered into air, his breath misting like incense
rising to heaven. "Help me. Find me the strength I need. Holy Mother
Yanlin, protect me with thy strength. Yahshua, guide my steps and
protect me from all my enemies."
Pharcellus joined him soon enough, and then after they had eaten more
porridge brought by his mother, they took to waiting and watching
Strom tend his flocks. This lasted until midday when Pharcellus
caught sight of a pair of mismatched birds circling the city in a
wide arc. He stood up and waved his arms in the air until the pair
turned and began to fly in their direction. As they approached,
Lindsey could see that one was light and the other dark across his
back. A minute later he recognized the seagull Quoddy and knew that
the other was a puffin. That must be Machias.
Lindsey and Pharcellus held open the doors to the paddock while both
birds flew in and tumbled to a halt on their webbed feet. Standing
and shaking themselves off, both birds grew to a mostly human sized
and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
"Lindsey! Pharcellus!" Quoddy exclaimed in a hearty squawk. "It is
good to see you both safe and sound."
The puffin waddled to the dragon in human guise and looked him up and
down. "The red hair's a nice touch, Phar," he hugged him with his
wings and then looked at Lindsey with a steady eye. "Wow. You really
do look like Phar's younger brother."
"Lindsey," he said by way of introduction, giving the arctic seabird
a gentle pat on the shoulder. "It's good to finally meet you. Where's
your other brother?"
Quoddy cawed, more softly this time, "He's traveling with his
contacts and should be here later today. We can keep an eye out for him."
"Good. I was hoping more than just you two would arrive today. I was
planning on... you know."
Both birds nodded. Machias lifted his orange and black beak and
turned his head to one side. "We saw a few merchants coming up the
road from the southwest. Quoddy said he recognized them."
The seagull nodded. "Brigsne and the others from Vaar. And a few more
we didn't see but I hope are with them. If so, that's a dozen men
right there. And Lubec said he knew of at least another dozen."
"My contacts won't be here until tomorrow," Machias admitted. "But
they're at least fifteen strong that I know of."
Lindsey beamed at the thought of forty to almost fifty men come to
aid them. "That's better than I expected! Far better!" He glanced at
the two sea birds and laughed lightly. "You both must be exhausted
after your flight. Is there anything we can get you?"
"A little something to eat and drink, and then a recommendation of a
good perch out of sight of the guards," Quoddy said as he shrugged
his wings behind his back. "I think that will do it."
Pharcellus gestured to the distant woods in the south. "From there
you can see the whole city and anyone approaching, especially your
brother. One of you could wait here at the back of the paddocks. I
know your eyes are good enough to pass signals to each other. Nobody
else would ever see you."
"I'll go to the trees," the puffin offered. Before his older brother
could object, Machias put his wing-claws together and begged, "Please
brother. I haven't really seen trees in over two months. It's my
turn. I'll be okay."
Quoddy sighed but relented. "Very well. But not until we've eaten."
"I'll find something for you both," Lindsey piped. "I think I'll want
to have something to eat too. Before I..." He sucked in his breath
and closed his eyes.
"When will you go?"
"I... I want to see my mother one last time."
Pharcellus folded his hands together and frowned. "Elizabaeg said she
would be back this afternoon. She's talking to the others she knows
in the city to make sure they're ready. We may have another fifteen
from them, and even more once they see the battle going our way."
"Then," Lindsey said after another deep breath, "I'll find some food
for us all, and we'll wait for my mother."
Elizabaeg returned in the middle of the afternoon as the dragon
predicted. Machias had already flown out to the trees, while Quoddy
perched on the sill of a window in the paddocks to keep a watch on
him. He waved with one wing to the disguised woman and then returned
his focus on the woods.
Pharcellus and Lindsey had been scouring the wagon for anything they
might need but had not found much. Lindsey would at least need some
sort of knife on him, though the soldiers would undoubtedly
confiscate it. But no boy of Arabarb of his age would be without a
knife or even a sling. The only ones they had were the ones that
Lindsey brought with him from Metamor; they were foreign made but
only the most astute of observers would know. And by all accounts,
this did not include Calephas's hired thugs.
But once Lindsey's mother returned, all searching stopped and he ran
to her and hugged her as tightly as he could. "Lhindesaeg!" she
exclaimed, then bent down to his level and returned the hug. "It's
time isn't it?"
He nodded, trembling, and took a deep breath to try to calm himself.
"I wanted to see you one last time, Mother."
She smiled through the fake beard and pressed her face to his. "Here I am."
Their embrace lasted almost an entire minute before Lindsey felt
enough courage to dare let go. This could be the very last time he
held his mother. For many years he thought he'd never have a chance
again. Now that it was past, he knew that if he tried he wouldn't be
able to let go.
"And here I go," Lindsey said as he stepped back. "Please pray for
me, Mother. I'm frightened, but... I have to do this and I cannot
wait any longer. Our allies are arriving and they won't stay long."
"I heard that they have not yet all arrived. Why do you go now?"
"I don't know when I'll be brought in to see the monster. Now that
some are here, I have to go. The longer I wait, the less likely this
will work." Lindsey hoped he was right. His heart pounded against his
chest with a thousand fears about what could go wrong. He ignored them.
"I hope you're right. How are you going to be captured?"
"The same way I almost was two days ago. This time I'll be alone."
"I will shadow you," Pharcellus assured him. "Somebody needs to make
sure you are actually taken into the castle."
"Thank you. But, if I don't go now, I won't have the courage to do it at all."
Elizabaeg sighed and tears pooled in her eyes. She turned away and
pressed her sleeve to her face. "Then go. Now! Kill that murderous bastard!"
Lindsey stood a little taller, smiled to his mother and his childhood
friend, and then returned to the wagon to grab his buckler, knife,
cap, and hide cloak. He hurried with each piece, wasting no time in
donning them. Once attired, he had to force his legs to move, as they
wished, and his heart wished, to stay firmly planted in the smelly
paddocks where he'd be safe. But he walked, stiff and with purpose,
repeating the same prayer he'd offered that morning in his mind and
in his heart.
He smiled to his mother and to Pharcellus as he walked passed them.
The smile, meant to reassure them, was more an artifice to reassure
himself. He stepped into Strom's home with the dragon quick on his
heels. His mother watched but did not follow. Lindsey refused to look
at his friend, striding across the simple home to the other end not
ten paces away, and then walked through the front door and out into
the dirt streets of southern Fjellvidden. He glanced from side to
side, and then raced across the street to a narrow alley and started
to cut through to the core of the city.
Lindsey kept a close watch at the end of each intersection for
soldiers. It was best he not be caught anywhere near the paddocks,
and so when he first saw a quartet of them wandering down the street
in formation, steely eyes scanning the homes and businesses with
suspicion, he melted back into the shadows and stayed very still
until they had passed. He even put one hand over his mouth to keep
from breathing too loud.
It took him ten minutes to pass through to the center of the city,
and once there he found a place to sit down out of sight and wait. He
curled his knees to his chest and trembled. The air was cool but not
unpleasant, but still he shivered. The world around him was dark,
gray, and uninviting. And though he could hear the sounds of labor
all around him, he heard not a single voice.
He tried closing his eyes, but that only made his fears multiply.
Would Calephas blindfold him so that he couldn't see anything? Would
he manacle him? Would there even be a moment of weakness or lowering
of his guard? All Lindsey had was the ability to make himself an
adult again. The rest would be accomplished by surprise and brute strength.
Before his thoughts could take him any further, he heard it. Coming
down the street was the sound of boots and low grunting. Human
voices, but none of them happy. Accompanying their stride was the
clink of mail and the creak of leather. Soldiers. Lindsey tensed,
opened his eyes, and stood as tall as he could. He prayed one last time.
Then walked into the street, casting his head back and forth as if
looking for danger. The soldiers were a dozen paces to his right
coming toward him; there were four of them, and the two in front
noticed him immediately. Lindsey gasped as if surprised, and turned
to run. "There's one! Get him!" One of the soldiers shouted as they
took up the chase.
Lindsey darted back and forth and even reached the next alley, before
he was yanked backward by a hand grabbing his collar. He tumbled
roughly to the ground and felt a boot strike him in the chest. The
blow was not very hard, just enough to knock the wind and any fight
out of him. He gasped and curled up into a ball, face pressed into
the cold dirt of the street. Above him the men laughed, while one of
them grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him up.
"Let's go kid," the leader said. He was a man with a dusty, scraggly
beard, which made it clear that he was not from Arabarb. Two of the
other three did have braids, but the fourth was like him and clearly
a foreigner. Lindsey scowled and spat at them as soon as he could.
"None of that now," the leader said as he pulled Lindsey's arm behind
his back just enough to make him stand on his tiptoes to keep from
crying out in pain. "Back to the castle. We have what the Baron wants."
"Good!" One of the two from Arabarb said with a haughty laugh. "I
could use a good meal for once."
"The money we get for this won't last a week," groused the other.
"But it's more money than we see just walking these damn streets,"
the second foreigner pointed out. His voice was high and
nasal-pitched, which made it sound like he'd swallowed a weasel.
"Please," Lindsey whined as tears began to well in his eyes. "Please
let me go. I did nothing wrong."
The leader tugged his arm again and Lindsey cried out, clenching his
eyes shut, forcing the tears to spill down his cheeks. "You'll keep
your mouth shut, or you'll be begging to go to the Baron!" A knee
struck him in the back and off his feet. His cry bounced from ear to
ear as the pain lanced up his arm. He'd felt worse as a man, much
worse, even nearly being strangled to death by a noose in the forests
north of Breckaris six months ago. But he was a child now in body,
and he had to let them believe in mind too.
It wasn't taking much effort on his part.
When he regained his feet he whimpered but didn't say anything more
as the quartet of soldiers surrounded him and marched him eastward
through the city toward the main gates of the castle. The leader
never slackened his grip on his arm and so he walked tiptoe the whole
way as quickly as he could. Every slip and stumble made his arm lance
with pain.
"How long do you think this one will last?" the second foreigner
asked with an uncertain chuckle.
"I don't know and I don't want to know," the leader said with a
snarl. "And neither do you if you don't want to feed Gmork's pups."
All three of the other soldiers paled at the suggestion and nothing
more was said between them. Lindsey sniveled and wondered just how
Gmork could inspire such fear. And who were his pups? And why did
they call them pups? The answers would come more quickly than he
would like. Already the bailey wall rose up before them, the
gatehouse creaking open to allow them entrance.
The double doors were reinforced iron with a heavy portcullis and a
long narrow killing passage that dipped down a good six feet before
climbing back up again. Nobody would force themselves in that way
easily. Once through they reached a small courtyard with barracks,
stables, and a guardhouse. Lindsey was marched instead to the main
castle and into the westernmost tower. They went up one flight of
steps where a small room with a child-size pallet lay in one corner.
He was shoved onto this and the door closed behind him.
Lindsey sat down on the pallet and stretched out his arm while wiping
his tears on his other sleeve. Outside he could hear voices and
booted feet moving back and forth. The stone walls were cold, and the
air was bitter and angry. Once his arm began to relax, he huddled
close in his cloaks and tried to think clearly.
Fear and anxiety clouded his thoughts, but he did have enough
presence of mind to check his belongings. His knife and sling had
been taken by the guards as he'd expected, but all the rest of his
things were with him. He'd wished he'd dared hide a second knife in
his boot or behind his back, but he'd never be able to get that into
Calephas's bedchambers.
The small unadorned and uninteresting room was obviously a holding
cell for the boys that Calephas pleasured himself with. Apart from
the pallet that was clearly meant for a child, there was a small
chamberpot with a short chain affixing it to the ground. The chain
was only lone enough to turn the chamberpot out the narrow window,
and it was too thick even for a grown man to break. The narrow window
was the only one in the room, and through it a long shaft of light
navigated across the room. There was no other light, and the door he
entered was the only door. Even Charles as a true rat would have a
difficult time squeezing through the window or under the door.
Lindsey wasn't going anywhere until Calephas sent for him.
He heard a strange scuffling on the stone that made his heart leap in
his chest. The new sound wasn't boots. It was claws, a sound so
familiar and welcome after years living at Metamor.
The door opened and in stepped a hideously deformed figure. Dressed
from head to toe in old hides was a man with sloping forehead, long
tongue that dangled between his teeth, dark streaks along his
protruding and flattened nose, and a patchy tail dangling behind him.
The figure's long hairless ears perked as golden eyes studied him for
several long seconds. Drool fell from his tongue to the floor.
Lindsey recoiled in horror and pressed himself as far back against
the wall as he could.
The beast man smiled, revealing little whiskers at the ends of his
lips. In a growling voice mangled by his long tongue the creature
said, "You'll do nicely."
And then it turned back out the door and shut it behind him. Lindsey
heard no key turn, but he did hear the clawed feet retreat back down
the hall, while booted feet returned to stand guard at the door.
He swallowed heavily and made the sign of the yew across his chest
until his arm grew tired. Was that one of Gmork's pups?
And if so, what was Gmork? No mere mage would make such mockeries.
Despite his best efforts, Lindsey started crying again. And this
time, no memory, no hope, no prayer could make him stop.
----------
Gmork was on his way down the narrow staircase to see if his latest
pup had finished stripping the bone. He hoped so; he hated having to
punish his children. But sometimes it was the only way they ever
learned. The anger could even be used to break them of their
pointless clinging to humanity.
But he'd rather they just succumb. It made them easier to manage once
they were fully converted.
But before he was even halfway to Yajgaj's chamber, he was
interrupted by the barking voice of one of his other pups. He turned
and growled, "What is it?"
The pup, his third, lowered himself onto all fours, even going so far
as to let his hands dwindle into mere paws. His long snout garbled
the words, but between his whining and yipping Gmork understood him
well enough.
"Already?" he asked, standing a bit taller, his tail stiffening
behind him. His pup's tail wagged anxiously as he nodded. Gmork
smiled and started back up the stairs. He reached down and stroked
his pup between the ears. "Thank you for telling me. Your brother can
wait. Come." His third pup crawled almost on his belly after him back
up the stairs.
----------
Machias had been waiting in the trees for a couple hours before he
finally saw a familiar black shape flying high in the sky. Their
brother had finally arrived! He waved his wings in signal to his
brother Quoddy back at the paddock, then leaped into the air and
ascended after his brother.
Lubec the Cormorant saw him when he was halfway, and the two of them
turned to find a quiet spot away from the city. They banked together
and descended to the edge of the trees near to where Machias had
watched. As best they could with webbed feet they landed amid the
arbor, and then hugged in greeting. "You made it! I was beginning to
wonder if you would," Machias said with a chirp.
"Just now. My friends from the west are waiting for me to tell them
where to go to meet with the rest of the Resistance. How long have
you and Quoddy been here?"
"Since midday. Metamor's assassin has already gone into the castle,
but we don't expect anything to happen until this evening."
Lubec nodded his beak and shook his wings from side to side. "Good,
that will give our men time to gather together and coordinate. Where
are the rest staying so I can tell my contact?"
"I don't actually know," Machias admitted. "My contact and his
friends won't be here until tomorrow, but Quoddy's are already here
and somewhere in the city. We're staying at that paddock there. Strom
should know where the rest are."
Lubec's eyes frowned but he nodded and more brightly, added, "I'll
pass that along and be back soon. It will be so nice being together again."
"That it will," Machias agreed. The brothers hugged one last time
before both took off to go their separate ways.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
!DSPAM:4db6226c8861804284693!
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