Major revelation in this part.
Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias
Gmork's admonition that the spell keeping Lindsey
a boy was making him more and more childlike was
something he could no longer deny. In fact, when
Gmork had first crowed about it, salivating with
those ever shifting jaws, Lindsey had known it
was true. How often had he slipped into childish
behaviors and delights? Had he not delighted in
Pharcellus's stories? Had he not tried skipping
stones near the quays? Had he not been savaged by
fear, misery, and the tears that only a child
could shed? He'd even begun thinking of
Pharcellus as his older brother and not just pretending.
And now chained to a wall in a room with the
despicable Baron Garadan Calephas and his
simpering and slavish tiger with the dead body of
a twisted and tortured child hidden beneath a
carpet, the reality of his regression was only
becoming plainer and fouler. While Calephas
busied himself at the long table, mixing elixirs
and other strange unguents that tickled his nose
with sulfurous and stale odors, Weaker watched
him with dead eyes. That nearly soulless stare
brought to mind horrors they'd faced in the
swamps of Marzac. But then he'd been a man with
an axe in hand and companions at his side. Now he
was a child with nothing at all.
And the last child that had been chained to this
wall was dead and used as cushioning for Calephas
leisure. Lindsey curled his eyes away and tried
to think of something, anything, that might give him strength.
Nothing. Not even some memory of the kangaroo.
What made it worse was that Calephas didn't even
bother talking to him after his promise to murder
him once he was done with him. He just mixed his
potions, tapped the glass, swirled them together,
and studied the little tray with his blood in it.
Drops of that were added to a small beaker which
was then heated over a candle. By the time they
heard the shuffling gait and the rattle of chains
approaching down the hallway outside, that fluid
had turned a crisp gray in hue.
Calephas turned to see who was approaching, and
Weaker let his focus turn to the open doorway,
but it was just the Lutin Yajgaj returning with
an old man whose hands were chained in front of
him. Lindsey, eyes fixed on the floor, noted that
the Lutin seemed to guide the man into the room
with a odd diffidence, almost carefulness, as if
he cared about the prisoner's well being.
But that oddity was dismissed when Lindsey lifted
his eyes to see who this man was. Through the
grimy and unkempt beard and mass of reddish hair
graying at the edges, Lindsey saw a pair of eyes
hard and bitter yet full of a strength and a
goodness he had longed for. He stared at those
eyes for nearly a second before the crisp blue
orbs became familiar to him. Lindsey's fears fled
him in a single moment of elation as he shouted, Father!
The man snapped his head toward him with a sudden
gape. Calephas blinked and smiled in hideous
triumph. The Lutin fumbled his guisarme and took
a step back into the doorway and was gone.
Alfwig, his voice sturdy but unsure, asked, Who
are you, boy? I... I should know you, but...
Lindsey realized he'd already said too much and
swallowed. Calephas laughed and grabbing the
man's shoulder with one hand, kicked him behind
the knees, toppling him to the stone floor. Tell
him, Calephas said with a vicious snarl. Or
I'll stab him through the throat and drench you in his blood.
He cried and shook his head. It's me, Father! It's your Lhindesaeg!
Alfwig's eyes widened in shock as he hid the pain
from Calephas's blow. Lhindesaeg! But I thought
you'd become a man? What are you doing here?
Trying to kill me, Calephas replied. He
failed. Now, like you, Alfwig, he's mine.
Let him go! Alfwig snarled over his shoulder.
He lifted his chained hands and smacked them
against his shoulder where the Baron's hand had
been only moments before. Don't think this chain
will keep me from killing you.
Calephas took another step back, while Weaker
approached, growling and hissing with claws
extended. Alfwig glared at the feline. Or you either.
You aren't going to kill anyone, Calephas
chided with such calm assurance Lindsey had a
hard time not believing him and trembling from
it. Weaker, show the old man what happened to the last boy.
Calephas backed and in a wide circle moved around
the rear of the room and grabbed the large hammer
while the tiger bent over and dragged the carpet
off the crushed and deformed child. It was
difficult to tell just what it was, a blend of
reptilian and human features in so complicated
and bizarre a form that it didn't even look like
it could have been alive at one time. But Alfwig
still trembled at the sight, and his eyes darkened further.
Raping them isn't good enough for you anymore?
The Baron scowled without anger. I am so close
to achieving my goal. You are going to help me,
Alfwig. Or I will crush Lhindesaeg's hands. The
left one first. He stepped closer to the boy and
tapped the end of the hammer against Lindsey's
exposed hand. Lindsey swallowed and tried to keep
his gaze on his father. How he wished those
strong arms would break his chains and rescue him from this nightmare.
But Alfwig didn't move from where he knelt, hands
flexing and wrapping around the chains binding
his arms together. The tiger Weaker had moved
around behind him, and with lashing tail, kept a
close eye on him, claws at the ready to tear into
his back. Alfwig noted him with a perfunctory
glance over his shoulder, then returned his
attention on the Baron. What do you want?
I have captured your son. I have taken a sample
of his blood. Calephas gestured with a nod of
his head toward the table and the assorted
potions. It's stronger than either of ours,
Alfwig. I've never been able to get you to
explain why you have such blood. Now you are
going to tell me, and you are going to tell me
why Lhindesaeg's is even stronger. Or I crush limbs.
Stronger? Lindsey asked, for a brief moment
more curious than frightened. My blood?
Alfwig sighed faintly and nodded. For now,
Baron. I've kept this secret from Lhindesaeg long
enough. I'll tell him. His eyes, full of
gentleness and a terrible sorrow met the boy and
held him tight as if they were arms. Lhindesaeg,
I love you dearly. I loved you as my daughter. I
loved you when you went to Metamor to help. I
loved you even when your letters told us you were
a man. I love you now. I can see you in the boy
before me. You are my child again. I am your father. But...
But Elizabaeg is not your mother.
Lindsey blinked at this and his mouth opened and
his tongue blubbered incoherently for a few
seconds before he managed, She's not my mother?
No. Your real mother... I met her bathing in a
forest stream. She'd been watching me for some
time, and knew that I would pass that way on my
hunt. She waited for me. I... I was enraptured by her, by her beauty.
His eyes took on a faraway cast and he sighed,
this time with regret. One of his hands began
stroking his beard, wrapping the hair as if he
were going to braid it again. I had no idea who
she was, but I was smitten. For six months she
stayed in my cottage, our cottage. She left from
time to time, but always returned with the little
white mountain flowers. With them she made the
most delicate of wreaths. And her singing, the sweet melodies...
Alfwig closed his eyes and took a long deep
breath as if he were hearing her voice and
smelling her flowers. Lindsey felt lost, almost
impatient to know who this woman really was.
Calephas listened with an amused smirk on his
face, but kept his grip on the hammer firm and steady.
And then one day, she was gone. Alfwig let out
a long breath and let the chain dangle across the
floor at his knees. And when she left, I wept
for days. But when I stopped, it was as if
whatever her presence had done to me was gone. I
had known Elizabaeg for many years, and only a
month after I was calling upon her again. I knew
I loved her, and I hadn't stopped loving her even
when your mother was with me. Within three months
I obtained her father's permission, and shortly thereafter we were wed.
Lindsey felt confused now. How could this other
woman be her mother if she'd left and he'd married Elizabaeg?
We were married for five months when she
returned to me. His face tightened with pain and
a horrible longing. I woke early that morning.
It was Summer. The grass was wet with dew, and
the sky bright with a high sun peaking over the
mountains and casting everything in green and
gold. Sitting on the rock by the lake was she,
your mother. A very carefully wrapped basket was
at her side. I came to her, overwhelmed with joy.
Even the birds seemed to be brighter in their song.
Alfwig licked his lips. She apologized to me,
admitted that she had deceived me. She had
watched me from afar for some time, though I had
not known it. And she had fallen in love with me,
even though it was not permitted. And so she'd
come with her son to see that the child we had
would be with me. And that's when she handed me
the basket and made me promise to send her son
back to her. She told me I would know when.
Calephas ground his teeth together, and the
tiger's ears turned as if he were actually
listening. Lindsey could, for a brief moment,
almost forget that he was chained to a wall and
under the power of the despicable Baron, so intent was he on his father's tale.
She waited while I opened the basket. To my
surprise it was not a child. But an egg. When I
looked up, the woman, the amazing and sensuous
and majestic woman was gone. In her place a
mighty dragon. She bowed her head low, her long
neck covered in gray and purple scales, before
she leaped into the air, nearly knocking me over
with the beat of her wings. She ascended into the
mountains and was lost to sight.
But coming out of the forest was another dragon,
smaller this time, but the same gray scales, with
red ridges and a youthful enthusiasm. He
introduced himself as her son and promised he
would help look after my child. He lifted his
eyes to Lindsey and smiled ever so faintly. Yes,
Pharcellus is your half-brother. One month later
you hatched from that egg, both human and dragon.
Pharcellus left and returned with his mother and
yours. She cast a spell on you so that you would
be human in appearance. I told Elizabaeg
everything and she promised never to speak of it
and to help raise you as our own. And that is why
your name is Lhindesaeg, after the great
Lhinnorm, the dragons of the mountains. And that
is why your blood is stronger than mine.
Lindsey gaped, mind reeling from every word. He
felt as if he were going to tip back and tumble
away into a spinning vortex. His mother was a
dragon? He hatched from an egg? Then those egg
shells he found in Father's secret treasure box,
were they his? Is that why both Pharcellus and
Elizabaeg seemed so sad when he mentioned them?
And then, as the darkness spun, these questions
swirling into a maddening cacophony, one final
question percolated through the miasma to latch
into his brain and beat it into putrefied jelly. Who am I?
This single question, ricocheting from synapse to
synapse obliterated all that was real around him.
The room with its cold, gray walls receded into
the distance until they were lost in a shadowy
mass that had no substance. His father and
Weaker, melded into an orange and red smear as
they dwindled into insignificance and then
vanished like a star winking out. Calephas, his
face triumphant and twisted, passed away to his
side until he merged with the blackness, a
midnight sepulcher entombing all that was not an answer to the question.
He tumbled, but without frame of reference,
Lindsey could gauge nothing. Who was he? Born of
man and dragon, what did that make him? Hatched
like a reptile, his true mother someone and
something he'd never met. Elizabaeg, she who he'd
always called mother, she who had raised him and
loved him dearly, had known his origins but had
said nothing. All of Lindsey's life had been lived under a false assumption.
Who am I?
A flash of light surrounded him and Lindsey found
himself laying on soft earth, swaying cypresses
with dangling limbs, bright colors, and broad
ferns filling a clearing. Lindsey stood, spectral
in form as he gazed across the expanse at a dozen
golden horses, their green eyes boring intently at him.
The Rheh Talaran!
And in rich panoply of scintillating light, as if
each and every being were fashioned from finely
wrought crystal, each Rheh came forward one at a
time, and one of Lindsey's friends stepped
forward to meet them. First the ancient one,
Qan-af-årael, resplendent in his sky-hued
garments, approaching the most humble of all the Rheh.
Goodbye ancient one, the stars child.
They came together and their light suffused until
they were an indistinguishable pillar of vernal
splendor. Lindsey gaped as they leaped into the
sky to streak across the horizon like a falling star rising to the heavens.
Into the middle of the clearing stepped with
magisterial grace and hopping with studious
dignity came Zhypar Habakkuk and the Rheh who'd
born him. Lindsey reached out an arm and tried to
cry out his name but his long face was ever fixed
upon the steed of ancient lore.
Goodbye man who knows, fate divine.
Zhypar stretched out one arm, his clawed fingers
brushing the Rheh's nose, and then the two of
them vanished into the brilliant sky. Lindsey's
eyes should hurt but everything was so stark and
visceral he couldn't, as if he were witnessing true life for the first time.
Kayla the skunk came forward and met her Rheh.
Those words that were the ethos of sensation
sounded in his heart. Goodbye strength in love,
strike with might. And then they too vanished into the sky.
Then came Jerome the Sondecki, the stout figure
with auburn hair, hawk-like nose and crisp
goatee. He bore the black frock of his order and
seemed to hold it tight as if he were afraid some
harm would come to it. Goodbye strong and mild, never wild.
Lindsey felt dizzy as he watched, trying to look
to see where his friends came from, but it was as
if they proceeded from the very air. James the
donkey, the one who slew Krenek Zagrosek despite
crushing fear, approached the Rheh with the
bell-shaped white mark on his forehead. Goodbye
bells death cry, balm for mourn.
And then he too vanished in a spire of glory.
Following on his hooves was the younger Åelf,
Andares-es-sebashou. His pearl-handled blade was
crossed before his chest and he knelt in front of
the golden stallion with docile adoration in his
features. Goodbye eager son, know the night.
Lindsey trembled, trying to turn any direction
but this as the number of Rheh dwindled one by
one. Before them flew Jessica, who landed and
stared, only a simple hawk now. Her mount, with
an abyss of gentleness, reached down and lipped
at the feathers atop her head. With that she grew
and they two twined together in a light wreathed
in a blackness burnished bronze. Goodbye soaring mage, last of light.
The little Binoq mage, Abafouq almost stumbled in
his haste, face glistening with oils used to keep
the cold at bay. Powder spilled through his
fingers as he lifted them to embrace his dear
companion of countless leagues. Goodbye hidden one, sorrows long.
Quickly and soberly stalked the most remote of
them all, Guernef of the Nauh-kaee, his feathers
a white so bright that even the sun hid itself in
shame. One of the Rheh who had served as a pack
animal for them out of modesty and love, came to
greet him. Goodbye lofty one, the winds song.
Then the last of her companions came forward,
Charles, his strange six-limbed body wrapped in
the green vine with purple blossoms opening and
smelling so sweetly that Lindsey knew he could
forget everything should he lay in a field of
such flowers. His Rheh nodded and breathed a
sullen mist across the rodent's blackened face.
Goodbye stone and vine, ever more thine.
And then Lindsey felt himself bidden and he
floated toward the final Rheh, the one that had
born him across the Steppe, Pyralis, and into the
festering swamps of Marzac. Those green eyes met
him and held him, with a surfeit of knowedge that
disclosed everything hidden. The words
reverberated and made the cypresses and the ferns
shake as if waking from a long slumber. Goodbye woman gone, dragon born.
They had known. Lindsey blinked and leaned
forward to touch the Rheh who'd claimed him for a
rider. His steed had known all along who he was.
He fell into the golden hide and green eyes,
spiraling away from that evil swamp, all thoughts for one blessed moment clear.
Lindsey blinked open his eyes and saw his father,
the enslaved Keeper standing guard over him, and
the laughing Calephas brandishing the heavy,
metal hammer. That explains it then, the Baron
was saying with caustic pleasure. Your blood has
taken on that of the dragons because you enjoyed
tender intimacies with one. And Lhindesaeg's is
stronger still because he is half-dragon. It took
months for me to make my blood as strong as
yours, Alfwig. And now your son will give me what
I need to finish what I've started.
And what have you started? Alfwin said with a cold menace.
The Baron walked back across the room and
gestured at his worktable. After Nasoj's
disastrous attempt to seize Metamor Keep the
winter before last, I left his employ and allied
myself with Lilith's forces in the southern
Giantdowns. Because of them I have no need to
fear a reprisal from Nasoj for my betrayal.
He smiled then and ran one finger down the side
of a glass decanter filled with a a thick, purple
fluid. But I am not a gambling man. I thought
myself secure once before, immune from harm, and
then I was caught and barely escaped from the
Midlands. My time in Arabarb is limited. Either
Nasoj will find a way to kill me, or the
Resistance will. And even if they don't, one day
Gmork will be powerful enough he'll believe he
won't need me anymore and have my head placed on
a pig pole to the delight of my subjects. And
that is why I'm so delighted that you have come into my hands, Lhindesaeg.
He picked up the bottle and tilted it from one
side to the other. I obtained a large quantity
of these potions from my new allies. This potion,
unaltered, will transform a human being into a
bastardized mix of human and dragon, a ruined
form, known as a Draconian. I've seen them work.
I've made boys such as yourself drink them so I
could study the interplay of spells that made them work.
But I don't want to be a Draconian. He set the
bottle down and gestured at the rest of the
table. I want to be a dragon. And to that end
I've made adjustments, purifying the draconic
essence used in these potions, to transfer their
strength to myself. With them, I have been able
to alter my blood. But until I unlock all the
other components, that is all I dare change. His
smile grew wide and Lindsey could almost see his
teeth growing sharper and serrated. An unholy
fire burned in his blue eyes. I'm almost there.
You, Lhindesaeg, are the last piece I need. One
more potion, one more test, and then I will be ready.
The dragons will never accept you, Alfwig spat. They'll know who you are.
Aye, they will, Calephas admitted. But I don't
have to stay here. As a dragon, I can fly
wherever I wish. And I will live as long as I
wish. And there will be no one to contest my
power. His smile slipped briefly, only to grow
even wider as if he too were a wolf. And I will
be able to devour as many boys as I wish.
I won't drink any potion! Lindsey shouted with
a fire that felt like his old self. I won't help you!
Calephas picked up a small wooden funnel and
shrugged. That's why I have this. He set the
funnel down and then tapped one of the bottles.
But, it will take time for the potion to be
ready. I must leave it to settle overnight before
the spells are properly mixed. So, I am going to
leave you to sleep if you can. Tomorrow morning
you will help me become a dragon. And as for you,
Alfwig, you will go back to the dungeons. Once I
have no more need of you, you will drown in the Arabas. Yajgaj!
A different Lutin stepped through the door and
stared in impish defiance. My Baron.
Calephas glowered at the unmoved figure. You aren't Yajgaj, where is he?
This Lutin carried the guisarme that had been in
Yajgaj's hands and he too had a necklace of
finger bones, though not nearly as many as the
war leader had. He go see to soldiers to keep
castle safe while Gmork gone. We take man back to dungeon.
Do so, Calephas grunted. The Lutins guided
Lindsey's father back to his feet and out the
door. Alfwig gave Lindsey a forlorn and
apologetic gaze before he disappeared through the
iron aperture. Once they were gone, Calephas
stroked Weaker behind the ears in distraction
before returning his attention to Lindsey.
Although your father is in the dungeons, they
are not the only cells in this castle. This room
used to be a torture chamber during the thane
wars over a hundred years ago. Your ancestors
were very good at two things: making weapons to
kill each other, and devising means to torture
both body and mind. He grabbed the single ring
set in the wall a few feet above Lindsey's head.
Truly, your ancestors were geniuses.
Calephas gave the ring a twist, and then the
stone ground against itself as the wall to which
Lindsey was attached began to turn. Lindsey
struggled against his chains but as the sick
Baron slid out of view, Lindsey was greeted with
a darkness all around him, a cold chill that made
his naked flesh tremble, and the sound of rushing water far below him.
The wall clicked into place and Lindsey could
only cower and try to keep his body pressed as
closed together as possible to keep warm. From
behind him he heard the Baron's shouted words,
You won't die of cold, Lhindesaeg, and there's
nowhere for you to go. Good night and sleep well my little boy.
Lindsey stared into the darkness and sobbed in prayer.
----------
Yajgaj moved quickly through the castle halls,
striding past soldiers without a word, but
pausing to give instructions to all the Lutins he
found. They were all of Blood Harrow tribe now.
He'd made sure that every Lutin in the castle not
of his tribe was moved elsewhere. It had taken
months to do so, but it had been necessary. He
couldn't depend on their loyalties.
The green-skinned little man moved through the
halls searching resolutely. He knew Calephas
would be irritated that he'd left, but there had
been no choice. At least not anymore. That one
exclamation from the boy had changed everything.
Finally, after a sun's handspan, he found the
soldier he sought. The tall dour man was standing
guard with two others along the southern
battlements overlooking the outer bailey. The
night sky was obscured by heavy clouds and the
city below was occluded by darkened windows and
doused torches. What few lights traveled those
streets were carried by Calephas's soldiers as
they continued their search for the Resistance.
Gwythyr! He snapped in a guttural voice that
sounded as if he thought the man's name a
delicious portion of meat. Come with me! The Baron wishes you.
The man's face turned ashen white but he left his
post and followed Yajgaj back inside the castle
walls. But Yajgaj didn't lead him anywhere near
Calephas's laboratory. Instead, once they were
halfway between torches on either end of a long
hall he turned and pressed the bone knife against
the man's belly. Bend over, Gwythyr, he hissed
in a whisper. The man was so stunned he could
only do as bidden by the Lutin whose bone
necklace prominently displayed his prowess in killing men.
A little closer, Yajgaj said softly. And then,
once the man's ear was close enough that he could
whisper with no chance that anyone would hear he
said, I know you are part of the Resistance.
Gwythyr immediately tried to jump back, but
Yajgaj grabbed his one arm in a vise-like grip
and pressed the razor sharp blade against his
belly so that the leather vest began to part. I
am not your enemy. Tomorrow, both Calephas and
Gmork will die. I need you to contact the
Resistance and bring them into the castle. I will
have the eastern gate and walls guarded by the
Blood Harrow. They will let you in. Do you understand me?
Gwythyr blinked several times and stared at him
in astonishment. But... but you're a Lutin.
Yajgaj snorted and smiled, long, pointed ears
lifting with his cheeks. Clever. Maybe I not
kill you and take your thumbs if you help me kill
those two. Do you understand?
They won't believe me.
Yajgaj narrowed his yellow eyes and simmered. Do you believe me?
Why should I?
Because you Resistance and I not kill you yet.
Gwythyr swallowed again, eyes flashing across the
hallway afraid that somebody might suddenly come
upon them. But as a Lutin, Yajgaj's ears told him
much more and he knew they were as safe as anyone
could ever be in this castle. Finally, the
soldier began to nod. I'll try to convince them.
You better. If you come back and the Resistance
isn't with you, I will give you to Gmork so I can
kill him while he's distracted feasting on your
mind. Yajgaj dragged the man's face a little
closer. But I won't kill him until after you
start worshiping him. It was, Yajgaj knew, a
stupid threat that if the man gave even a modicum
of consideration to would see it for what it was.
But he'd learned in the last year just how
powerful a motivator fear was. And for a Lutin
wearing a necklace of human finger bones, fear was one of his chief weapons.
I'll do it. Gwythyr said at last. How long do I have?
By dawn I have all guards at eastern door and
walls changed to Blood Harrow. You have until
dusk when I need to change them again.
During daylight? Are you mad? Yajgaj pressed
the knife against his belly again and growled.
Fine, we'll find a way. Once we're in, where do
we go? What about the other soldiers?
I keep path for you to Calephas's laboratory
free. You know the way. Gwythyr nodded. Some go
that way, others take the armory and bailey
walls. I will try to have more soldiers out in
the city looking for you tomorrow so it be easier. Do you understand?
Gwythyr nodded. I don't know if I can trust you,
Yajgaj, but you haven't turned me in. I'll try to talk them into your plan.
Yajgaj smiled and let the soldier go. He sheathed
his bone knife and nodded. Good. I like you,
Gwythyr. I let you keep your thumbs.
The man's face twitched as he backed away a few
paces. One thing more. How do I get out of the castle?
He laughed beneath his breath. The same way you
always do. The western sea door. I watch that one for you tonight.
Gwythyr swallowed uncomfortably and nodded. He
stiffly turned and walked down the hallway to
tend to his new task. Yajgaj watched him go and
then hurried to where he could watch to make sure
he did as he was told. Tomorrow everything would
be decided one way or another. Either Gmrok and
Calephas would be dead, or the rest of them
would. The Lutin smiled and knew that his Blood
Harrow elders would be pleased with such a choice.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
!DSPAM:4dbdbf5f97402130720353!
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