Stone of the Denmol

by R C Gray

  Pushing his head deeper into the pillow, his eyes widened, and he turned his head away as the creature moved up to sniff his face. He blew out several quick breaths onto the animal, hoping that the rush of air would scare it away, but it only blew small pieces of fur off its body and onto his shirt. He was surprised that it didn’t stink, given its current state of decay.

  “Siangra, no!” Renna said, clapping her hands at the squirrel. “Down.”

  She moved closer to the red-furred creature, clapping again while she pointed out the window. “Go outside. I’ll come see you in a bit.”

  The squirrel gave one last look at Skara with the one eye left in its head and quickly jumped up onto the window frame and out onto a nearby branch.

  “What the hell was that thing?”

  “It was a squirrel,” Renna said, looking down at Skara. “At least it was at some point, and maybe still is in a way. I’m sorry it woke you. I told the animals to leave you alone, but sometimes they’re just curious.”

  “Where’d that thing come from?”

  “I made it. Well, I found it and brought it back to life. It had been dead for a while when I found it, but it’s fallen apart a bit more since then.”

  “You’re a necromancer,” Skara stated more than asked.

  “That’s right. Some people have trouble making friends; and as you can see, I don’t have to worry about that,” Renna said, smiling.

  “So, was that thing alive?”

  “Yes, and no. Its body moves, and it mostly responds to my commands, but its soul is gone. Right now, it’s just a body that’s been reanimated with magic. I do the ritual with the intent that it acts like the animal it was, and I bring it back. Eventually, I’ll release it, or it will decay, and the magic will drain from its body. So, it’s neither alive nor dead; but it’s no longer the same animal that it used to be. But don’t worry about that right now. You need to concentrate on healing.”

  Skara sat up and brushed the fur off his shirt and looked down at his wrapped arm. Several bandages covered his wounds and he could smell the strong scent of witch hazel, a bit of oak bark, and several other herbs or roots he couldn’t place. Skara watched Renna as she sat down on the bed and took his arm in her hands to make sure the wrapping was tight enough and still soaked through with the herbal mixture.

  He could see small scars running up the length of both her arms and several on her face. A small scar rested above each of her tusks where they had cut into her upper lip, and longer, faded scars were visible on her cheeks. Her septum was pierced with a small silver ring, and her ears, which were pointed and slightly longer than most of the elves that he had seen before, were also pierced with several silver hoops running from the bottom to the top. Her right eye was a light grey-green while the other was a deep brown, but both were sharp and bright and stared out at him from beneath wisps of her dark hair.

  “Are you an orc?” Skara said, looking at her pale green skin.

  “Not fully, no. My father was a half-breed, and my mother was an elf. So, it’s easier to just say I’m half-orc, too. It gets tiring explaining it sometimes.”

  Skara looked down at his own dark green skin and at the jagged scars running up his arms. He thought about all the scuffles that he had been in and wondered what kind of trouble a half-breed might have seen. Just as he was about to ask about what she was doing out here in the woods alone, Faine walked through the door with a dark sack and several rabbits hanging from a rope. Tossing the sack on the ground near the bed, he gestured to it with a pointed finger.

  “I went back out and got your daggers and your webs. And I figured everyone would be hungry, so I got some rabbits. I can clean them if you can cook them, Ren,” Faine said, opening his eyes wide as he stared at her and waited for a response.

  Renna looked at Faine, her eyebrows raised. “And did you reset my traps after you took the rabbits out of them?”

  Faine looked at Renna and shrugged his shoulders.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” she said, rising from the bed and smoothing down her brown skirt. “So, here’s what we can do. I’ll go and reset the traps, and you can cook. I need to gather a few herbs anyway, so this works for both of us. Don’t you think?”

  Faine looked somewhat defeated as he looked over at Skara.

  “Fantastic. I was planning on cooking anyway,” Faine said, shaking the rabbits at Renna. “Skara, come help me get these cleaned up. We’ll need something to eat before we head into town in the morning.”

  Skara turned on the mattress and put his feet on the floor and stood. His legs still felt a bit stiff, but he could move easily enough. Heading out the door with Faine, the two moved to a stump a short distance away from the cottage. Tossing the rabbits next to a log, Faine grabbed one, set it on the stump, and began to clean it.

  “Why’d you save me?” Skara said, watching Faine open a slit into the rabbit.

  “It’s simple. You saved me.”

  “You could have just left me there to die, and no one would have known or cared.”

  “And you could have done the same to me,” Faine said, tossing some entrails on the ground beside the stump. His hand and skinning knife was covered in blood as he pointed at Skara. “And I would have known. You cut me outta the web and fought off a cave spider for me. You could have left me for dead both times. Why didn’t you?”

  Skara stared down at the rabbit, its grey fur wet and matted with blood. Watching the stream of deep red trace their way down the grooves in the log, he reached out a long finger and scraped his nail across the trickling blood and rubbed it between his finger and thumb. The woods around them were quiet as if waiting for him to answer. The gold, orange, and red leaves danced softly in the slight breeze that carried the scent of woodsmoke across the still forest. “You were still alive and needed help. If I would have left you there...”

  Faine looked at him, his eyes dark in the shadows of the trees. His lips were curved down in a slight frown. “How long have you been out here alone?”

  “Long enough.”

  “That’s fair,” Faine said, pulling the skin off the first rabbit and starting on the other. “And why stay out here?”

  Skara paused, looking down at the bloody knife. “Maybe the same reason your friend does. Towns bring lots of problems.”

  “I get it,” Faine said, tossing more bits of rabbit on the ground. “And I’m sure Renna feels the same sometimes. But she also knows being alone all the time can take its toll on someone. And since I’m heading into town tomorrow, I think you should come with me. I know you have a few things to sell and I’d like to buy you a drink. It’s the least I can do for you saving my life.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. You carried me here, remember?” Skara was silent for a moment before continuing. “But since you offered, I’ll take that drink.”

  It had been nearly a month since he’d been to Banrielle to gather supplies, and given that his antidotes were gone, he would need more. Besides, he thought to himself, the elf wasn’t such bad company.

  Faine finished cleaning the rabbits and turned to head back to the cottage. Just as they were about to enter, Renna walked out and around the corner. She had changed out of her skirt and into a plain white tunic and brown pants and carried a leather satchel over her shoulder. A small axe hung at her hip and she grabbed a walking stick that was leaning against the side of the building. As she began to walk into the forest, she let out a loud whistle, and a raven cawed in the distance as if answering.

  Glancing at her as she walked away, Faine stepped into the cottage and stoked the embers of the fire, moving them to one side under a small grate that rested on several rocks. Seasoning the meat with a few of the herbs that hung from the ceiling, he placed it over the hot coals and sat down next to the fire with a small stick and poked at the logs, moving them closer to the sizzling meat.

  Walking through the door just as the meat was nearly done, Renna set her bag just inside the door and laid down a small bundl
e of greens on the table. “Smells good.”

  “It does. But it always smells better when you just get to eat it and not cook it. Can you grab me a plate?”

  Renna passed Faine a wooden plate as he took the meat off the fire, sprinkling it with more herbs before handing it to Skara. Sitting together at the small table, Renna poured three cups of fresh water and pulled a knife from her boot to carve the meat, passing out pieces of the rabbit while the others spread the greens on their plates.

  Sitting quietly as he ate, Skara listened to Renna and Faine talk about different towns they had visited and the various foods they had eaten. Some of the foods he had never heard of, aside from stews and wild game cooked over the fire. And although he wasn’t sure about everything they described, he thought that if he traveled outside of Banrielle, he would have to try something new.

  After dinner, Skara and Faine laid out furs on the ground as Renna shuffled through the many books she had stacked in her bookshelves on the walls. Finding a book that piqued her interest, she crawled into bed and moved a candle closer so that she could read.

  “What are you reading this time?” Faine said, straining to read the cover of the book.

  “The story of Sigurn and Ingrid,” Renna replied, not looking up from the page.

  “Again? You read that one all the time.”

  “I like it. It’s a powerful story full of action.”

  “And love,” Faine said, pressing the back of his wrist to his forehead and pretending to swoon.

  Renna narrowed her gaze and pursed her lips. “You know it’s true, right? You can still go to the Sleeping Mountains and see what happened there. Besides, it’s getting closer to Wyldernacht. It’s the perfect time to be reading it. There are most likely some nearby towns getting their festivals ready as we speak. I’d love to see a reading this year if I can. That would be amazing.”

  “Can you read some of it?” Skara said, staring up at the ceiling.

  “I can,” Renna said, flipping through the pages. “This is a good part. This is a poem that Sigurn wrote for Ingrid before they were called off to fight the Black Dragon of Edinmoore.”

  Renna sat up on her mattress and turned the book towards the flickering light of the candle, her voice soft as she read aloud.

  “The golden morning light pours through the window like honey, and our breath forms clouds above our lips — pale blue, like soft mist resting over the water on a faraway shore. Your beautiful eyes are closed as a gentle light caresses your amber hair and leaves slivers of warmth across your cheek. Your lips curve into a slight smile, and I know behind them lies your silver tongue, which causes me to tremble when you speak and can bend me to your will. It can tame the very forces of nature, just as I have been tamed by you, if only slightly.

  “Outside, as the wind blows and shakes the dead leaves from their branches, we rest safely in the shelter of each other’s arms. Your heart beats next to mine, steady and slow, and I hear thunder in the west.

  “A deep shudder echoes through my body, and my blood runs faster as I lie against you. What brought us together will soon pull us apart, and I fear the days I have seen in my dreams. I fear the day. The day of beauty and love lost, but also the day of such a finality that we may yet find our peace on the golden shores beyond the veil.

  “But the fear of the unknown is ever-present. So I must cherish the time we share and strive to know you more deeply and to truly learn what lies in your heart. For all the days to come and for whatever follows, know that I am yours.”

  Renna slowly shut the book and held it close to her chest and closed her eyes. “Isn’t it beautiful? There’s so much happening, and she knows that the wars and fighting that brought them together will eventually tear them apart...but they were still dedicated to each other. You can’t ask for more than that.”

  Faine stretched out over his fur, using one hand to poke at the fire with a stick, sending up a burst of sparks as a chunk of wood burst into flame. “Not bad. It could use a bit more action, though. What’d you think, Skara?”

  “It was a good story. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard one.”

  “That’s just a small part of it. Would you like to read it?” Renna said, setting the book down next to her bed.

  “Maybe someday,” Skara said, his fists clenching as he stared into the hearth, the flames dancing in his eyes as he thought about his family, the sound of screaming echoing in his head.

  “Then someday it is,” Faine said, tossing his poker stick into the fire, snapping Skara out of his thoughts. “But for now, let’s get some sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

  The sun shone through the open window, gently illuminating the room as Skara opened his eyes. Pulling the fur up over his chest, he looked around the room and noticed that Faine and Renna weren’t in their beds. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he pushed the blanket down and padded over to the door. He could hear the crackle of the fire outside and the low rumble of voices as he got closer.

  Crouching low, he peered out of the door and saw the pair standing next to a small fire. Reaching down, Renna picked up a small kettle sitting just off the heat and poured the hot liquid into a cup and handed it to Faine. He grimaced as he brought the cup to his lips and quickly drank what was inside. Giving the cup back to Renna, he added another log to the fire and continued their conversation.

  “I’m just sayin’ that I don’t know what’s going to happen. Be ready in case we have to move.”

  “I’ll be ready. Don’t let yourself get sucked into anything with the mercenaries and mind your tongue. It has a way of getting you into trouble. And there’s plenty of time for that later.”

  “You know I can’t promise I won’t. But I’ll be careful. With any luck, we’ll find out what they know and be back on the road soon.”

  Skara moved back away from the door and stood, unsure of what he had overheard. Grabbing his bag of webbing, he stepped out into the morning air and walked towards the fire. The sky was grey and overcast, and the cold breeze that moaned through the trees seemed to cut right through his clothing. The wind blew the leaves off the branches, sending them spiraling down around the pair standing next to the fire.

  Faine shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and Skara could see that his sword and dagger now rested in their sheaths on his belt. He rested his hand casually on its black hilt as he adjusted his demi-cloak, swinging the front flap over his shoulder so that his arm could move freely beneath it. His dark grey tunic hung down over black pants that neatly tucked into his mud-stained boots. Beside him was a small leather backpack that looked as if it had seen quite a bit of wear but was still able to hold a good load without breaking.

  Renna was also dressed in dark pants with stitching running up the sides of each leg. Her cream-colored tunic was tight and laced at the top near her neckline. She was slender, but Skara could see the muscles in her arms flexing as she poured a cup of tea, and he wondered if it had anything to do with her orcish ancestry.

  A small axe sat in a leather loop on her belt, and several small knives were placed around its length. Hanging down from her shoulder was her leather satchel that bulged slightly from the items inside, shifting forward under her wolf skin cloak as she handed him the cup of hot tea.

  Holding the cup of tea to his nose, Skara smelled the liquid and pulled his face back as the pungent smell of herbs hit his nose.

  “Drink it,” Renna said. “It will help with the poison.”

  Skara looked down at his wound and wondered if the poison was still a threat. Shaking his head, he quickly drank the contents of the cup and handed it back to Renna.

  “Are you ready to go?” Faine said, reaching for his pack and sliding his arm through the strap. “It’s only a couple miles, but it’s cold, and I could use a drink.”

  “This early?” Renna said, looking over at the elf as he shrugged in reply.

  Renna looked at Skara and moved in closer, pulling him into a hug. “Take care of yours
elf, Skara. I hope we see each other again.

  Skara stood with his arms at his side, unsure of what to do in the situation.

  It had been a long time since anyone had hugged him, and it made him feel slightly anxious. “I hope we do. And I hope you get to see your play sometime.”

  Looking back to Faine, he nodded and started walking towards the trail.

  “Be safe,” Renna said. “The path is twisting ahead of us, but it will take us where we need to be.”

  Skara didn’t know what she meant by that, or what they were talking about by the fire without him, but he was sure he’d find out soon enough.

  Strong as Iron

  The cart rattled and shifted as it bumped its way down the rutted road towards Banrielle. Braig looked down at the shackles around his hands and ankles and cursed under his breath. The bars of the cage dug into his back, each bump making the iron feel even harder against his already sore muscles. The morning was cold and damp, and a dense fog covered the forest around them. The trees appeared out of the mist as the wagon rolled past, only to be swallowed into nothingness as the wagon and guards pressed on—ten men in front, and ten men bringing up the rear.

  Turning his head towards the front of the cart, Braig could see his breath come out in white clouds, and small pieces of ice clung to the dark brown fraying braids in his beard. His mustache was covered in dried blood, and his broad nose was purple and bruised. Scraping his tongue across his teeth, he could taste blood oozing from several that had been knocked loose in the back of his mouth. Red cuts opened on his knuckles as he clenched his fists, trying to keep the blood flowing to his cold fingers. Looking down at his brown tunic and pants, he could see large patches of dirt and rust clinging to the ripped fabric and dried mud caked to his scuffed boots.