by Lexi Ander
“The drakon shall stay close by. They do not leave their mates, ever.” The message in Avory’s gaze revealed he would soon demand an explanation, mayhap not at the moment, but Avory would have an accounting from Roi whether he wished to bestow one or not. Fighting the feeling of safe familiarity he felt every time he took in Avory’s countenance, Roi stared grimly back, refusing to yield.
Whilst Roi was cleaned of all the blood, his back was slathered with a foul-smelling salve and bandaged, and the bed linens changed. Eventually, all were ushered from the chamber and Roi lay down for some much-needed rest. He had a moment to wonder why Avory believed Roi should be accountable to him afore the dark edges of sleep crowded out all thought and took him under.
XXVI
BY THE TIME ROI AWOKE, Ewen was gone. He wished Ewen had not let him sleep, for the dreams that had plagued him were fraught with riddles and a growing sense of urgency. Roi’s head throbbed, his body aching as if he would soon fall ill. But there was no time to dawdle in bed, so he rose and dressed carefully, doing his best not to disturb the bandages about his chest.
Though Roi felt unwell, he must search the woods for several plants he did not have on hand in his satchel. Unfortunately, Roi did not know the land, or even if what he needed grew in this mountainous area. If not, he would find another way to acquire the plants and herbs the loong had detailed. Grabbing his satchel and cloak, Roi left the bedchamber in search of food.
In the great hall, Roi accepted a linen-wrapped bundle of cold meat from the scullery maid. Afore he could reach the bailey, Brigid, followed by two smaller children, bounded carelessly down the stairs. The smaller girl seemed to be a twelvemonth or two younger than Brigid, her hair a lighter brown. The boy could not have been more than six or seven summers, by Roi’s guess. All three carried small bows and quivers of arrows.
“Roi!” Brigid’s face lit with excitement as she skipped across the stone floor.
“Fair morn to ye, m’lady.” Roi bestowed upon her a slight bow.
She smiled shyly. “Una and Eumann shall be practicing with me whilst Freya deals with Gibidh. He be fussing overly much this morn. Would ye join us?”
Roi bowed again to both Una and Eumann. The shape of their faces and set of their eyes closely resembled Ewen. He took in their hopeful countenances. “I be on my way out to search for herbs for my pouches.”
Their gaze went to the bag slung across Roi’s chest. At their crestfallen faces he added, “I do not see why ye cannot come with me whilst I search the woods.”
With excited steps, they followed Roi out the double doors of the bailey, hopping around him like playful puppies.
Brigid pushed back her dark, unbound hair. “What herbs be ye searching for?”
Roi rattled off the small list the loong had repeated several times and was surprised when she said she would show him where to gather the plants.
“Ma would take us with her when she hunted herbs and healing plants. She taught us what to look for, what be deadly. Una still remembers the outings, but Eumann does not.” Both Brigid and Una gave Eumann pitying glances when he was not looking.
Roi thought back to Ebba and how vague his memories were of her face, of how she laughed, and what her voice sounded like. “Well then,” he cleared his throat, “I guess it be my turn to teach ye of the plants and herbs so ye continue to remember yer ma.” He was rewarded with sad smiles, eyes bright with unshed tears.
They passed through the keep gates, only one or two of the guards seeming to notice their passing afore they crossed the bridge. Determining the lie of the befouled woods from the conversation last eve, Roi steered the children in the opposite direction and through a small village.
The children chattered amongst themselves almost without ceasing. Roi took notice of the people they passed. At the head of the loch, behind the watermill, they crossed a sturdy stone bridge. The mountains rose to the left and right, the ground blanketed by the greens of the forest, but afore them the forest had been pushed back to leave a flat, soggy plain. Roi’s shoes became heavy and water laden. The children seemed not to mind, but Roi grew increasingly chilled.
Brigid, Una, and Eumann spread out in front of Roi, bows and arrows at the ready. Someone had taught them well, for their aim was true. In no time they each carried a hare or fowl strapped to their belt. Brigid pointed to where each plant Roi had listed could be found. After a while, a lush green meadow appeared afore them, and Roi espied several plants he usually carried for his personal stores. Never passing up an opportunity to renew his supplies, Roi started off across the meadow.
“Nay! Roi!”
Roi turned to see Ewen running towards them, his visage one of frantic horror. Roi looked about, attempting to espy what caused Ewen to look so. Brigid turn to glance at Roi, her eyes going wide of a sudden, and she gestured frantically for Roi to come to her.
A bit confused as he sensed no danger, Roi headed back to where she stood with Una and Eumann, who both appeared afeard.
“What had spooked ye?” Roi asked Brigid.
She glanced back at the meadow, but afore she could answer, Ewen snatched him up in a tight embrace, pulling Roi farther from the edge of the lush meadow.
Ewen’s voice was low, hushed in Roi’s ear. “I searched for you. The guard told me you had gone in this direction. It be too dangerous for ye to be wandering the moors and bogs without a guide.”
“Ye forget that I am well equipped to protect meself,” Roi replied, a bit miffed.
“Against men, aye. Not against the hidden hazards of the Highlands. You be not familiar with the dangers lurking here.” Afore Roi could ask what Ewen meant, Ewen stole a quick kiss, surely to forestall Roi’s argument, and Roi let him. Ewen was with Roi now, and simply being nigh to him pleased Roi.
The children began to speak over each other, each growing louder than the others as they vied for Ewen’s attention. They chattered about their mighty hunt for Cook’s pot. Ewen listened carefully, his arm twined about Roi’s waist as they walked back to the castle. Roi glanced over his shoulder to the meadow, puzzled, his curiosity piqued. What had worried Ewen so?
~ : § : ~
DONN AND HIS MARRAE, Avory, awaited Ewen across the bridge. But Ewen had enjoyed spending the day with his children. It had been a long while since he had made time for them. To see Una and Eumann take so well to Roi caused Ewen’s heart to swell with pride. He was loath to leave them to begin the midday duties, their disappointment easy to see, the set of their faces causing guilt to well up within him. Roi distracted them with a hushed promise both to help them clean their kills and show them a secret. With a longing in his heart, Ewen watched them head to the scullery.
“Be ye ready? Arailt has taken a score of men to the place I found Avory.” Donn approached, leading Ewen’s steed.
Pulling his gaze away from the retreating forms of his family, Ewen focused upon his brother. “Has everyone been given the amulets?”
Avory nodded his dark head, the bobbles woven into his hair tinkling. “Aye. The charms shall not have the same amount of immunity Donn had against the sorcery, but the magick shall be bearable.”
Avory held out a leather cord attached to a small linen pouch. Ewen did not quite understand the how of such things, but Donn placed his faith in Avory, and Ewen placed his faith in Donn. Shoving down his misgivings, he accepted the offering.
After Ewen dropped the cord over his head, Donn tucked the amulet under his tunic. “Wear it against the skin, otherwise the amulet shall be useless.” Ewen grinned at his little brother. These last few weeks he had felt closer to Donn, even with all the upsets… or mayhap because of them.
Ewen mounted up, and when he glanced back at Donn he noticed that, once again, Avory openly watched Roi as Roi entered the towerhouse with the children. Pursing his lips together, Ewen was reminded of his tussle with Donn the night afore. The mere thought of Avory laying hand upon Roi set Ewen on edge. He had never considered himself a jealous man, but there was
an air about Avory that caused a wariness within him. Avory could change skins into a mathan, yet he was not kin. Was Avory a wyrbear, or a thing entirely different from the brown mathans of Ewen’s kin? If he was truly the Avory of ancient fable, then Avory was a mathan first and a man second, making him a bearwyr. Bear’s utter silence on the matter only compounded Ewen’s unease. He was hard pressed to place trust in Avory. If not for Donn, it was quite probable that Ewen would have tossed Avory out on his ear at their first encounter.
Shoving his thoughts aside for another time, Ewen spurred the stallion into a trot. As much as he wished he could force answers from Bear or Avory, the threat of the warloghes took precedence. The horse’s hooves thundered over the wooden bridge as Ewen considered the information Roi had given him on the difference between sorcerers and warloghes. Sorcerers would evermore cause an unease within Ewen, but now he understood that warloghes were the more dangerous of the two.
Donn took the lead, heading east upon the south side of the loch afore breaking off and following the trail up the mountainside into the forest. Some quality about the air seemed to change, the expectant hush from the creatures of the wild feeling as if they awaited something to happen.
When they arrived at the point where the trees had been branded with the strange symbols, Donn turned and led them off the trail, winding their way through the woods until he met up with Arailt and the warriors with him. All the men appeared to be on edge with a nervous energy—all except Arailt. He stood apart, scowling but more relaxed than the others as he twirled a woven bracelet about his wrist. Donn had made mention of the ghillie dhu and his fancy for Arailt in his report. As Ewen’s cousin had said naught of the meeting, or the gift, Ewen had declined to ask seemingly intimate questions.
A musky scent came upon the wind. The lynx that had been following them since Roi was caught in the tree seemed to be shadowing Ewen’s steps still. She never hid her presence, but neither did she come forward. This day the scent was mingled with that of wolves, which made no sense if the lynx was a creature of the wild. Ewen suspected the lynx and the wolves that travelled with her were something other, mayhap wyr like his kin. This thought was supported by the fact the scouts had reported the lynx and the wolves did not hunt in Ewen’s territory, keeping to the unclaimed wilds instead. Ewen got the sense they awaited something, though he knew not what. For now, he put them from his mind.
Dismounting and tying off the horses, he joined the men at the fouled line of trees. This time Avory would lead, since he was the one who had crossed warloghes in the area. Donn gathered Avory’s clothes as he undressed, stowing them with the horses as Avory changed into his mathan. With the exception of Donn, all stepped back from the monstrous black mathan that appeared in Avory’s place. Standing upon all four limbs, Avory’s head was level with Ewen’s. If he stood on his hind legs… Ewen believed no other animal could best Avory’s height.
Bear whimpered with such longing, followed by a strange, overwhelming joy, that Ewen had to grab a tree trunk if he wished not to fall to his knees. Ewen had not realized he had made a noise until he glanced up to see all present staring at him curiously. Avory moved to stand afore Ewen, and Bear wanted to throw himself upon the creature and weep with relief.
Ewen was hard pressed not to do as Bear wanted, but Avory seemed to sense Ewen’s turmoil and pressed the top of his head into Ewen chest, pushing until Ewen either stumbled or grabbed onto him for balance. He grasped Avory’s thick ruff, eliciting a whine to match the one Bear forced from Ewen’s lips.
Who— what was Avory? Ewen was more confounded than ever afore. So many questions and no time for answers. Bear ignored Ewen’s roiling thoughts, placing his attention solely upon Avory.
“You owe me answers, outlander,” Ewen said for Avory’s ears only.
Donn approached, seeming unsurprised by Avory’s behaviour. Avory would not be the only one to answer to Ewen.
“Come.” Donn directed Avory to the bespelled line of trees, hand gripping Avory’s fur as they crossed into the sorcerer’s territory. Ewen gathered his senses afore following, wholly unprepared for the painful tightening of his skin that lasted the couple of steps over the line. Once through, Ewen gasped for air as if he had held his breath for long minutes.
The first thing Ewen noticed was the outright lack of scent. There should have been a plethora of odours, yet the air was empty, stale, as if from a long-covered cairn. Avory and Donn had not stopped to gather their senses, and Ewen urged the warriors to hasten their steps to catch up. The blood trail they followed was visible, though Ewen could not smell it, the old, dried markings easy to discern as they climbed ever higher.
Sometime later, the trees parted to reveal a clearing with a cottage in the centre. Ewen and his men crouched within the budding foliage and watched the area, searching for signs of habitation. No smoke emitted from the chimney, the door of the cottage standing open. Not being able to scent the air was frustrating.
Arailt drew his sword. He, along with two others, circled around and approached the house, stalking along the wall to disappear through the open door. Two heartbeats later they emerged, sheathing their weapons and beckoning. Arailt met Ewen halfway across the clearing.
Arailt’s jaw worked as he gripped the red braid that fell over his shoulder. “It be a fine thing we smell naught. I counted twelve bodies. Not clean kills either. Someone took great pleasure drawing out the pain afore delivering death blows. Ye should have a look.”
Ewen knew Arailt would not suggest it if there was not something Ewen needed to see.
The blood began at the edge of the threshold. The dirt floor along the wall was littered with broken shards of pottery and splintered wood. From the crossbeams hung twelve men by their wrists. The amount of blood was astounding. It was telling that though the door had been left open, no predators had taken advantage of the easy feast.
Ewen’s second look around was more clarifying. Remnants of clothing and personal items lay amongst the debris littering the floor along the walls. Espying something familiar, he carefully crossed the room to crouch at a bundle shoved against the stones. Peeking out from beneath was a circular, carved wooden disc.
Using his dagger, Ewen pulled the braided leather cord from the debris. The amulet had the emblem of Cináed’s household carved into the dark wood. Glancing around with renewed interest, Ewen took a better look at the men. The faces of some were unrecognizable, leading Ewen to believe that these men had battled alongside him at Renfra.
Since taking his leave from his king, Ewen had suspected that these amulets hid the fact Cináed’s people were sorcerers—or mayhap warloghes. The puzzling part was the reason they hid themselves. True, there was no love lost between him and Cináed, but what had these men done to warrant this brutality? He would not wish such an end on any man.
Were they hiding from the warloghes? Who had bespelled the circle of trees, them or their attackers? Donn swore the area was befouled, malignant, and yet Ewen fathomed not why sorcerers would reside in such a place if what Roi said of them was true. Men and women who worked alongside the Earth, the wild, and life would not cast a spell that corrupted the very trees and land. They would abhor what had been done here. Unless the warloghes resided here and the sorcerers had come to hunt them down? But if that were so, why would sorcerers leave the line of cursèd trees intact?
Ewen glanced around the destroyed interior of the cottage, unable to discern if one occupant lived there or a score. The space was much like the shieling he and Roi had lingered in this past sennight.
“What do ye wish to do with the bodies? We might not smell the stench, but it does not mean it be not here.” Donn looked at all else other than the bodies. Ewen did not blame him. Such a grisly sight would wear upon the stoutest of men.
Standing to his full height, Ewen looked at the victims more closely. Was Cináed amongst the dead? Many of the men’s faces were unfathomable. Marks and scars on a few gave him a name here and there, but he put
name to only half of those afore him.
“I be afeard what had happened here has tainted this place,” Ewen said when he stopped next to Donn near the door. “Have a few men search the debris for the identities of these poor souls. We cannot risk giving the bodies over to their kin for burial as there be a chance the darkness of this place shall follow and haunt their kith. The belongings can be delivered instead. The cottage need be cleansed by fire. Burn the bodies with it so their souls can retreat from this world.”
Arailt joined Ewen, following when he exited the cottage. Avory stood a distance away studying the ground. Ewen pulled in a deep breath, of a sudden aware he had been breathing shallowly as if the stench of the dead clogged his nose though they smelled naught.
“Once the cottage had been taken care of, we shall work on the befouled trees. We cannot leave such a sore upon the wood to go untreated. They need be felled and they, too, given the cleansing grace of fire.”
Arailt nodded his agreement afore stepping away to issue orders. The men jumped to, none seeming to wish to stay here longer than necessary. The quicker the tasks were completed, the sooner they could retreat to the relative safety of their homes.
Avory lifted his head and met Ewen’s gaze. He steeled himself against Bear’s reaction, instead turning his attention to what Avory had been studying intently. Someone had stood here a long time, shuffling from foot to foot as if they awaited something. The blunt, circular impression of some kind of staff left several indentations, some deeper, as if the person leaned heavily upon it.
A bloody set of foot prints approached from the cottage and the two walked together into the forest. A slayer and their accomplice. Ewen followed the set into the woods with Avory on his heels, but fifteen feet in, the trail abruptly stopped. Search though they might, neither could pick up sign of it again.
