Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias
Yajgaj waited on the castle walls until he saw the human soldier
Gwythyr leave through the western river door as he had so many times
before when bringing messages to the Resistance. The man wove his way
through shadows that from the castle walls no human eye could
penetrate, but which the Lutins could see. Ever since he'd learned of
Gwythyr's indiscretions, he'd instructed the Blood Harrow to never
speak of it to any other human but only to him. He knew one day that
such precautions would prove useful.
And that day was today.
Satisfied, he left two of the other Blood Harrow to keep watch from
the walls while the other four with him accompanied him back down
into the castle. There were a total of just over two dozen Blood
Harrow Lutins in Fjellvidden, and before the dawn had come all of
them would be guarding the key positions in the castle.
But before Gmork or any of his pups returned, there was one thing he
had to do and do by himself. Proceeding hastily but without betraying
his haste, they made their way to the dungeons. He left the other
four to guard the entrance at the top of the long stairs, and then
continued down by himself.
At the antechamber where he'd spent most of his days since arriving,
he checked on the supplies he'd left in the little chest beneath the
rudimentary cot where he slept. The food would need to be freshened
but the short sword and armor were in good repair. The blade was
sharp and the mail freshly oiled. He'd kept them for two months now
ever since their bearer had been taken prisoner. How he sorely wished
he could risk letting him free now. Calephas's prisoner had suffered
far too much deprivation and horrors already.
But Blood Harrow were stronger. He gathered himself, and ran his
green fingers across the bones dangling from his necklace. He'd taken
all of them and they'd won him respect and admiration from his tribe.
And, with grim delight, he knew he'd have more to add before the day was done.
Quietly, Yajgaj opened the door to the dungeons and stepped through,
leaving the door slightly ajar. Cajudy's body was near the entrance
and several rats were busy enjoying the feast left for them. They
scattered as soon as Yajgaj passed, but once he was far enough away
they returned to their meal.
The Lutin did not bother with a torch, as the one at the top of the
staircase was sufficient to guide his steps. The rank mildew and
human offal was a familiar bouquet, and the earthiness of the single
inhabitant of the dungeons guided him through that empty garden of
decay and despair. The old man sat with his legs chained to the
floor, arms propped up on knees and shaggy head hanging between them.
Yajgaj approached on silent feet, even though the man must know he
was there already.
Abruptly, the man lifted his head and though Yajgaj couldn't make out
any details in his shrouded face, he could imagine him squinting.
"You aren't Gmork."
Yajgaj stepped around behind him, and with bone knife in hand,
pressed the tip ever so gently against the man's back. The old man
stiffened but made no objection. Yajgaj hated to do it, but he knew
that humans would never trust a Lutin, and that this particular human
would take great pleasure in killing his gaoler if he could.
"No," Yajgaj admitted in a fierce whisper. "I am not Gmork. He is out
of the castle. We can talk now. Quiet though. He may still listen."
Alfwig did not move. "I have nothing to say."
"Good," Yajgaj chuckled as he leaned in closer, his wide lips nearing
the human's small round ears. How strange to think of them as so
small. "I do the talking then. In a few hours I will bring you food.
Good food. It will help you get your strength back. And when I do, I
am going to unshackle you, and I will leave the prison door unlocked."
He shifted the point of the knife so that it wasn't pressing as
firmly against the man's back. "I am not going to kill you. I want to
set you free. But you cannot escape easily."
"True," the man admitted. "But why should I believe you at all? You
have a knife in my back."
"I do," Yajgaj admitted. "It stay there until you believe me. I know
you are fast and you are strong. I don't want you to kill me."
Alfwig's voice was filled with an almost amused bitterness. "And you
think I won't when you unshackle me?"
"I fear it. But if you do, you will never escape to see your children again."
"Calephas is going to poison Lhindesaeg tomorrow morning. And then
kill him. Can you stop that?"
"Only if the Resistance arrives before Calephas wakes. I have
arranged for them to get into the castle. When they do, you are to
leave the prison. At the first landing is my quarters. You'll find
your armor and sword as well as some food in a chest beneath my cot.
Take them, and then in the confusion you can make your escape."
Alfwig said nothing for several long seconds. Yajgaj pulled the knife
back so that it didn't press at his back anymore. In truth, he could
never use it against this man, but Alfwig didn't know that. The human
shifted slightly, but he did not try to strike him. "What of Calephas
and Gmork?"
"They not survive this day. I will not let them. Blood Harrow not let them."
"You're their gaoler."
"Ruse. They now trust me enough to let me get close to them with a
weapon. When Resistance arrives, I kill them both."
Again, Alfwig said nothing for several seconds. Yajgaj waited, though
he did look at the doorway half afraid that Gmork would step through
with a malevolent grin stretching his ever growing muzzle. But the
man didn't make him wait long. His voice was subdued, cold, but
betrayed a growing conviction that he believed the Lutin. "So why are
you setting me free?"
Though his vows to the Blood Harrow elders prevented him from
speaking it and they also made him loathe to even think it, he could
not keep the real reasons completely from his mind. Now it was his
turn to say nothing as he pondered just how to respond. In the end he
settled for a solid truth that he hoped was sufficient. "Blood Harrow
hate Calephas and Gmork too. We all better off if they dead."
"I don't trust you," Alfwig said quickly, but not harshly. "Your kind
are invaders in my homeland and are not welcome. Even if you are
telling the truth and we defeat them both, we aren't going to let you
stay here."
"We don't want to. Blood Harrow live beyond the mountains. When they
dead, we will leave. And we'll take other Lutins with us when we go
or we kill them too." He shifted on his feet a little as he pulled
the knife even further away. His bone necklace rattled a little as he moved.
"Whose fingers are those?"
Yajgaj chuckled ruthlessly. "All soldiers of Calephas and Nasoj. No
man of Arabarb has ever died by my hand."
Alfwig grunted at last and shifted about until he was sitting
cross-legged. "If you do come back with good food and unshackle me,
then I will wait until the fighting starts before I leave." He turned
and stared back at the Lutin. In the glimmer of light from the
doorway Yajgaj could see the man's face twisted into a vicious snarl.
"If I see you again before then, I will not spare your life, Lutin."
The last word he spat like a curse. Yajgaj swallowed it down as if it
were a bitter tonic.
Yajgaj straightened and backed away from him. "You won't... human.
Sleep." He sheathed his bone knife and stalked back toward the
doorway. The disquiet in his soul vanished when he walked past the
corpse again. He smiled hungrily, revealing all his teeth which with
his his eyes shined in the torchlight. He locked the dungeon gate on
his way back up.
A few more preparations and then he would risk an hour or two of
sleep. The morning would come soon.
----------
If not for his fury at the death of one of his pups, Gmork would have
admitted to the weariness he felt when he and his children returned
to the castle. He was furious also at himself for allowing the
insufferable dragon to have drawn them away from their home for so
long. They'd been gone for at least three hours and now the night
grew late. Dawn would come in about four hours and then he would need
to be even more alert.
What he'd learned from Lubec about the Resistance massing in the city
had only been the tip of the claw. A dragon's claw. He could take no
risk in underestimating their forces or capabilities; not when they
had a dragon as their ally.
Apart from his newest pup who was still strongly showing human
features in his posture and the length of his arms and legs, he and
his children loped through the forest in their wolf guises. His
newest pup at least had managed during their run to shift his head
completely into that of a wolf. His fierce golden eyes burned with an
inner light that mocked the lack of moon or stars in the night sky.
Once this one was fully converted he would be a devoted and ruthless
son to his father. Gmork cherished him deeply. What had been that
human saying from the Suielman Empire, 'Corruptio optimi est
pessima'? How very, very true.
The eastern side of the castle rose up along the declivity, and
stretching up to encompass the gatehouse at the southern end of the
bridge over the river gorge. The forest sloped on down toward the
city, with new growth appearing within fifty feet of the castle
walls. The main gate to the castle was in the southwest pointed
towards the city, but a small eastern gate opened into the castle
directly. The door was barred with iron inside and out and fitted
with thick locks that even a determined battering ram would find
nearly impregnable. It was to this door, nestled in a crook of the
high walls that Gmork and his pups loped.
When they reached the door, they one and all adopted more human
guises, though they still hunched over on misshapen legs with tails
dangling beneath the animal furs that had transformed with their
flesh. The rudimentary clothes they still wore bespeaking of their
former human lives remained in tattered rags. His eldest pup
continued to select new clothes that he deliberately wore into
decrepitude, but the other two had never bothered to change theirs.
The youngest of course still had on the dungeon stained black robe
he'd worn when he was first called by Gmork to be his child.
Gmork used his gate key to unlock the door and was greeted in the
dimly lit hall beyond by a half dozen Lutin spears. They blinked and
lowered them when they saw who it was. They bowed their heads
submissively and intoned, "Hail, Gmork, great wolf."
His jowls flecked at that appellation but said nothing in response.
His children entered before him and then he closed and locked the
door again behind them. Hard gray eyes scrutinized the Lutin soldiers
with distaste; he would never understand why Calephas tolerated their
presence. They held their weapons with grim satisfaction and through
lowered eyes returned the gaze. They would do nothing against him or
his pups, but they certainly had no love for him.
One day Gmork would become the true master of the castle and the
land. On that delicious day all the Lutins would be either food or in retreat.
And even as he thought of food, he recalled his promise to his pups
in the woods. Together they headed straightaway for the dungeons.
They found the gaoler Yajgaj coming up the stairs from the dungeons.
The Lutin blinked in surprise to see them, but regained his composure
quickly, gripping the guisarme he carried in his spindly hands. "You
come to see prisoner?" He asked with a guttural laugh. "He trying to sleep."
"The old man is not my concern," Gmork said acidly. "but open the
door that we might enjoy the feast prepared for us."
Yajgaj turned back around and opened the heavy door. He left it
standing open and returned to his little antechamber to wait. Gmork
and his four pups poured into the room, witchlights dancing above
their heads. One of his pups pounced on the rats scattering from
Cajudy's corpse. They squeaked as they dangled in his pup's jaws,
until he shook them back and forth and snapped their necks. Those
jaws opened wide, throat swelling cavernously, before the rats were
flung back between the rows of vicious teeth and swallowed entire.
Gmork and the others quickly descended on Cajudy's corpse, or what
remained of it. The rat's had denuded the body in several places,
especially the belly which had already been torn out by his
youngest's claws. But there was more than enough meat and sinew left
on his bones, not to mention the juicy marrow they contained, to sate
all of them.
His youngest grabbed a leg between his jaws and chewed ravenously,
tearing off large chunks and gorging them down, the coagulated blood
smearing across his jowls and down the lush silvery black fur on his
neck. Gmork contented himself with an arm, crushing each finger and
bone between his teeth and delighting in the savory richness of the
meat. The other two pups concentrated on his chest, while the last,
after he had swallowed another two rats, came to feast on the last leg.
For a few precious minutes Gmork could allow himself to think of
nothing but indulging his beastly instincts. No greater thought came
to him except the burning fire within his belly, the rich, metallic
flavor of the cold blood, the hard sinew of flesh on his tongue, and
the crackle and drip of marrow between his fangs. His nostrils flared
with each whiff of meal, each cascade of odor a thrill that erupted
more and more fur along his back and made the claws on his fingers
and toes swell with fierce abandon. What could be more satisfying
than this, a ravenous feast upon a dead man with his pups at his side?
It was not long before they were cracking bones to lap up the marrow,
the flesh consumed between them, and satiated growls and yips tokens
of their pleasure. Gmork sat back on his haunches and let his muzzle
retract even as his long tongue licked the blood from his fur and
whiskers. His voice rumbled from within his swollen belly. "Take the
larger bones with us to gnaw upon later. We are done here and there
is much still to do."
His pups obediently assumed more human guises and gathered what
remained of Cajudy's skeleton, mostly the arm bones, several ribs,
and a pair from his legs. These they carried as they followed their
father back up the stairs, witchlights dancing merrily overhead. The
Lutin gaoler watched them go with a curious glint of avarice in his
yellow eyes. Gmork could hear him heading back down to lock the
dungeon as they left.
Gmork led them to his listening room three flights above and in the
midst of the castle well away from any windows. The room glowed with
the lights of his baubles and each captured will. His pups placed the
bones in one corner and waited for their father's instructions. Gmork
ran his paws over a few of the nearest baubles as they glowed
serenely in their cushioned reliquaries.
He then stood as tall as his legs would allow him and placed a had on
his two middle children. "Rest here with me for a few hours. I will
send you out as the dawn comes." They bobbed their heads and wagged
their tails before padding over to the rumpled pile of furs in the
corner and laying down together like a pair of dogs.
Gmork rested one hand on his eldest and youngest pups and smiled,
jowls revealing yellowed teeth licked clean of blood. "Go into the
city and see if you can learn from the shipwright where the others in
the Resistance might be. Follow their trail and if you can, kill
them. If they are too strong, wait for your brothers. They have a
dragon as an ally so we must all be careful. There might be others."
He leaned forward and licked their faces. Both of them licked back,
eyes eager to please their father. His youngest was especially eager.
"And remember," he counseled with a firm but fatherly tone, "return
here to sleep when your brothers come. You both need your rest too."
"We will, Father," his eldest said with a quick wag of his mostly naked tail.
His youngest allowed his face to sprout silvery black fur apart from
the auburn mop of soft hair between his ears that was the only
remnant of his human hair. His growling voice was strong and sure as
he agreed with his brother. "We will find them, Father. And we will
come back to sleep as you ask."
"Good," he barked and stepped back. "Now go. I will listen here."
They yipped and bolted out the door, falling to all fours in their
haste to do their father's will. Gmork smiled and closed the door
behind them before settling down to listen to the voices of his human pets.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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