Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias
The sliver of sky outside Lindsey's window
revealed a world on the brink of twilight when
the oaken door opened again. To his surprise the
figure that stepped through holding a wooden
spear that was curved to suggest a hook like a
primitive guisarme was not the monstrous deformed
man that had appeared earlier, nor any of the
human soldiers that had arrested him, but a Lutin
dressed in a fur vest and cloak, with an array of
knives shaped from bone around his waist and a
necklace of finger bones prominently displayed on
his chest. He waved the guisarme once in the air
as yellow eyes narrowed to consider him. Baron wants you now. Come.
Lindsey was still curled up in the corner of the
room farthest from the door with his face turned
to the wall. Slowly, he uncoiled his limbs and
managed to climb to his feet. The Lutin stared at
him, eyes widening and narrowing as his thick,
wide lips slipped over his pointed teeth and
prominent tusk-like canines. Lindsey had never
spent much time in the presence of Lutins his
last few encounters had all ended with the
green-skinned savage's sudden death so was not
quite sure what to make of the odd expression on this one's face.
There was a trio of Lutins behind him who from
the way they shadowed the one wearing the
necklace of finger bones were his subordinates.
The lead Lutin taped the but of his guisarme on
the stone just inside the doorway and they fell
back a pace. He walked backward three steps to
allow Lindsey space to leave his cell.
Why... where are you taking me.... I didn't do
anything... Lindsey murmured as he walked,
keeping his arms very close to his chest.
To see Baron, the lead Lutin snapped. He felt
the butt end of the guisarme against his back. That way.
Lindsey walked between the pair of human soldiers
set to watch his door, with the four Lutins
following close behind. They jostled a little but
the leader, so far as Lindsey could tell, only
needed to tense and bring them into line.
He tried not to be frightened by them, but for
the first time in a long time, they were actually
the same size as he was. Still, he reminded
himself with every step, by this time tomorrow if
all went well they'd all be dead or in flight.
Calephas wanted him for his bed. And that's where the monster would die.
Their path through the castle took them up
another few flights of steps and away from all
the windows. He was brought at last to a hallway
modestly apportioned but that must have at one
time been fine, with draperies and old suits of
armor betraying spots of rust. A carpet now torn
in places but at one time a lush red, led to a
large set of ornately carved doors with flambeaux
on either side. Lindsey saw the forest, the
mountains, the rivers, bear, elk, moose, and even
dragons in the design. But to his surprise there were no guards.
The question was answered when the doors opened
and a tiger Keeper dressed only in the sort of
harness usually attiring plowhorses. His golden
eyes were kept ever lowered, and his shoulders
bent forward as he cringed away from the Lutins
and the boy, holding the door open only to let them in.
Your boy, Baron, the lead Lutin announced as he
gave Lindsey one last shove with the butt end of his guisarme. We wait here.
Thank you, a smooth voice spoke from where
Lindsey couldn't see. Beyond the doorway was a
room about twice the size of their room at the
Inn in Vaar, the other end directly in front of
him occupied by a bed draped in heavy quilt and
two bear hides sewn together. To the left he
could see a hearth crackling with a blaze that
kept the air in the room very warm. A couple
small chests and a writing table were also there,
all resting on an old carpet whose colors were
now faded. But of the speaker he saw nothing.
Weaker, that voice said again, this time with
the sternness of command, bring him to the bed and then wait by the door.
The tiger kept his eyes and face downcast and
then wrapped a meaty paw about Lindsey's arm. He
was very strong and his claws poked at his skin
ever so slightly. Lindsey looked into his face
and wondered if this was one of the spies Metamor
had sent, but that didn't seem to make any sense.
Hadn't he heard something about another Keeper
being taken prisoner not long ago? Is this
mindless obedience another consequence of Gmork's magery?
Once he was dragged from the doorway he could see
the rest of the room. The right side had another
set of chest, a long table on which libations and
various goblets were set, and other devices whose
function and purpose Lindsey hoped he never
learned. Before this table stood a tall man
dressed in expensive furs neatly trimmed and
holding a pair of small brass goblets in gloved
hands. His coiffured hair was light brown with
hints of gray, with cold-hardened cheeks and a
slender but round Midlander face and complexion.
His eyes were a soft blue that surveyed Lindsey
with a predator's hunger. And buckled at his side was a rapier.
I am Baron Garadan Calephas. You need not be
afraid. His eyes flicked to the tiger Keeper who
picked Lindsey up and set him on the bed as if he
were a sack of potatoes. Of Weaker at least. Is his appearance frightening?
Lindsey trembled and curled against the
intricately carved headboard and nodded. He had
to pretend like he'd never seen a Keeper before
and he hoped his wide-eyed stunned expression was convincing.
The Baron took a few steps toward him but stopped
halfway. He swirled whatever was in the goblets
idly as he let his eyes pass between the tiger
and the boy. He's quite harmless. Strong,
capable of violence should I wish, and certainly
to protect me, but completely tame. Lindsey
swallowed heavily at the thought of having to
subdue this enslaved Keeper in addition to the
Baron. He'd have to be quick. He shook his head
as he stared fixedly at the tiger. The tiger whom
the baron named Weaker stood with head lowered
like a marionette waiting for its strings to be pulled.
And then, with a sudden shout, he brought the
tiger's ears up at least. Weaker! My shoes. The
feline fell to the floor at Calephas's booted
feet, licked the backs of his arms, and then
began polishing the boots with his own fur. This
he did very quickly and without any suggestion of
irritation at so degrading a task. Thank you. Wait by the door.
Lindsey swallowed as the tiger backed up to the
door and hunkered there beneath the lantern,
bringing him into relative shadow. Calephas
crossed to the bed and sat down a few feet from
Lindsey. You are mine now, child. I am going to
enjoy your flesh and turn it to my purposes. Most
likely you will not enjoy it. And it will hurt.
Drink this. It will help with the pain and help
you relax. There is no other way out of this, boy.
Extending his right arm, he held out the brass
goblet. Lindsey could see what looked and smelled
like wine. He'd almost certainly tainted it with
some drug that would make Lindsey completely
unable to resist. He didn't dare drink it. He
swallowed and looked from the goblet to Calephas.
He didn't know how fast this man was with his
rapier, but Lindsey was going to have to be faster.
Calephas stared at him over the top of the
goblet, eyes transfixed and sharp as an eagle's.
He turned the goblet back and forth between
gloved fingers. Take and drink this. It is not
poisoned. I do not like dead boys. Do not believe
me? Watch. He tiled the goblet over his own and
poured a portion of the wine into it. Then he
drank from the goblet in his left hand and
smacked his lips in satisfaction. As you can see, I am well. Drink.
Lindsey reached out his hands and took the goblet
from Calephas. The man smiled, so sure and
disgusting. The boy put the goblet to his lips,
an let the liquid pour into his mouth. It tasted
much like any wine he'd ever had. But as soon as
the last drop passed his lips, he spat it straight into Calephas's face.
The Baron spluttered and fell backward, even as
Lindsey jumped to his feet to grab the rapier and
will himself back to his normal adult age. Only,
he didn't quite make it to his feet. He fell
forward onto his face and rolled onto his back,
blinking as everything around him began to fall
into darkness and all strength vanished from his bodies.
From a distance, he could hear Calephas's voice
growing ever further and further away. The wine
wasn't poisoned; that much was true. But the
spell attached the goblet... well, that's why I'm
wearing gloves. Spitting it in my face was...
And then there was nothing.
----------
Strom had just finished putting all the sheep and
pigs back in their paddocks for the night when
Lubec landed in the window and then flew further
in to perch on top of the wagon next to Quoddy
and Machias. The cormorant stretched his wings
and then warbled in delight, Oh, I'm so glad you
two are both here. Is this your contact? I
thought there'd be more of you here.
Quoddy glanced at the elderly Strom who was busy
stroking one of his ewe's behind the ears. The
rest of them are staying elsewhere. There's not
enough room here, and you know, better to keep
our forces divided until we get the signal.
There's less chance of the monster learning what we're up to that way.
The cormorant stuck his beak into his feathers
and groomed himself for a moment before leaning
back and cawing softly. That makes sense. My
contact and his allies did the same. So where'd
they go? We need to coordinate now if we're going to win this fight.
Quoddy and Machias both shrugged their wings. We
don't know, the puffin admitted. Lindsey's mother is taking care of that.
Lubec blinked and spread his wings a little in
surprise. Lindsey's mother? Wait, you mean
Lindsey the timberman? That Lindsey? That's who Metamor sent?
That's right, Quoddy replied. Behind him a pair
of sheep started bleating anxiously. And after
spending a few days with him, I know he can do
this. He's already gone into the castle. We just have to wait for the signal.
Lubec hopped a few steps back along the wagon as
more of the sheep began to bleat. The gull and
puffin turned to look at them curiously. Strom
touched one then the other, before lifting his
eyes in horror. Somebody's coming. Hide!
But the cormorant shook his head. My coming in
here was a signal too. Just please don't fight.
As his brothers turned to stare at him
dumbfounded, a dozen soldiers poured into the
paddocks from front and rear. Two of them
charging in the rear carried a net which they
threw over the two birds. Quoddy and Machias
squawked in horror as they beat their wings and
tried to tear at the net with their beaks and
claws. One of the soldiers bopped Machias on the
back of the head with his fist, sending the
puffin sprawling limply into the tangled net.
Quoddy pecked at the soldier nearest him a few times before he too was struck.
The last thing Quoddy remembered was seeing his
brother Lubec hoping up and down cawing angrily, I said don't hurt them!
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
!DSPAM:4db74818110851080519667!
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