by HP Mallory
But the angel had already disappeared ‘round the corner. The lad was nae slouch a runner himself and he stayed on the stookie angel’s heels before disappearing after him.
I shook me own head in frustration as I hoisted the dropped boxes from the ground, placing them upon either of me shoulders. “Guess we’re all goin’ oop then!”
Kay didnae try to stop me this time. As I rounded the corner meself, I could make out her steps right behind me. In between strides, I took the time to mutter a few choice words in Gaelic that would hopefully serve me at some point in time.
***
The pennant and trees surrounded a canvas tent. This tent had the same look as those from Custer’s camp, causing me to wonder if the Welshman came alone. The four trees—which I realized were oaks now that I was closer—formed four corners and a perimeter ‘round the tent. Inside the perimeter grew verdant green grass that was better suited to Fergus Castle than this horrid place.
Me attention shifted to the angel as he began yelling incoherently at a young man with a hawkish, handsome face. The man laughed as though the stookie angel had told him a funny joke.
The man wore a simple yet finely tailored jerkin and trousers. He was thin—but nae scrawny—and his auburn hair fell to his shoulders. He casually sat upon the grass, leaning his back against one of the oak trees as though he hadnae a care in the world. And he wore his usual grin, which was as clear as his deep green eyes were bright. He appeared to be in a jolly mood. And why nae? Gwydion delighted at making people angry with him, deliberately or otherwise.
I dropped the two boxes of food rations as soon as I stepped foot inside the perimeter of the wizard’s encampment. Then I unsheathed me sword and prepared meself for whatever lay ahead.
When the Welshman continued to laugh at the now outraged angel, the walloper did something I didnae see coming. He walked up to Gwydion, pulled back his flabby arm and punched him right in his face!
Gwydion, still laughing, allowed his head to roll back with the punch and standing to his impressive height, shoved the wee angel towards the tent. The angel fell over his own feet and landed upon his arse in the dirt which sent Gwydion into peals of laughter.
Harry thought such a time a good one to involve himself and went for Gwydion, but the Welshman caught him ‘round the throat with his bare hand and threw him. The poor lad was launched into the air as though he had been fired from a cannon before gravity embraced him again.
“Harry!” Kay called out after him, shock and horror plaguing her face.
As Harry fell, I focused what remaining energy I possessed into the grass knoll that appeared just below him. Channeling me Druid magic, I imagined the knoll recessing into the earth as though it were a huge, padded net and below it, naethin’ but air.
When Harry touched down, the grass appeared to gobble him up which startled Kay but seconds later, the ground spat him out again. He appeared whole and unscathed. And surprised. As was Kay, who turned to me with wide eyes as though to ask if such was my doing. But my attention was nae longer upon the lad. Instead, I watched the tent where Jeanne was just emerging. The angel began stumbling across the uneven ground, nearly falling over himself. But Jeanne caught him before he lost his balance.
Addie walked out of the tent right behind Jeanne, looking as though she just stepped out of a bath as her hair was wet. When I glanced back at Jeanne, I noticed her clothing was much cleaner and in better repair. Addie, too, wore an improved version of her former wardrobe.
Addie’s eyes widened when she watched Harry slowly picking himself up from the ground.
Jeanne glared at her host. “Why did you treat them so roughly, Gwydion?”
The Welshman’s laughter died down as he shrugged as though to say ‘twas nae his fault. “Well, I couldn’t very well allow either of them to attack me, now could I?” His eyes were now firmly fixed on the trio standing before his tent. “And since I didn’t want to cause them any undue harm—”
Me shadow fell over him like a dark cloud, thanks to the fact that I was a good two feet taller. I held me broadsword at the ready. “That’d be a first, Welshman.”
Gwydion turned ‘round slowly, which was smart. If he moved tae quickly, I’d have felled him where he stood. His shining eyes didnae lose one whit of amusement as he smiled up at me as though we were long lost comrades. I didnae return it.
“Ah, Tallis Black.” He paused to smile even more broadly. I felt me stomach drop. “Even though the circumstances are less than ideal, it’s good to see you again.”
I leaned over him far enough that me beard fell into his face. “Forgit yer pleasantries, nephew o’ Mag. Ye know as well as Ah that we are nae friends.”
I looked past him to see Addie, Jeanne and the angel tensing. Harry, who stood closer to the wizard, seemed ready to strike another blow at his head but looked at me for the order.
Gwydion pretended not to notice his surroundings, instead centering his full attention on the rapidly approaching Kay who looked as though she were ready and able to commit murder.
Gwydion gave her a careful look before shifting his gaze to the others. Then he glanced up at me again. “I was under the impression you were in need of help. Was I mistaken?”
Harry’s voice sounded behind me. “Wait, he wants to help us?”
I threw up me hands without taking me eyes off the Welshman. “Nae, lad, dinnae be fooled sae easily,” I grumbled as I narrowed me eyes upon the wizard.
“The lad hasn’t been fooled,” Gwydion announced, shaking his head. “I do wish you help you.”
Me glare grew more pronounced. “An’ whit exactly dae ye git outta helpin’ oos?”
He shrugged as he turned his back to me. “Oh, goodwill, a future favor, the knowledge that some poor, deserving souls are getting the aid they so desperately need…”
Harry stepped closer to the wizard. Gwydion snapped his head ‘round, his eyes and smile taking a hard edge. “Careful, young one. I admire your fighting spirit, but tread carefully.”
Harry didn’t flinch. “Not to question your motives, but Tallis here talks like you’re one slippery SOB. Is he wrong?”
The Welshman chuckled the way he always did when confronted with the truth. He even patted the lad’s shoulder a few times. “You would do well to listen to your guide, son,” he said as Harry frowned, clearly confused.
Gywdion continued. “Given that I arranged the rape of my sister, restarted the war between North and South Wales, and executed enough misdeeds to incur a year of humiliating transformations, I have more than earned my place in this Circle.” He eyed the rest of us, his smirk broadening. “I do believe I am rather… unique among this Circle’s residents.”
The stookie angel walked up behind him. “Ya do realize that yer not exactly argumenting the case fer trustin’ you, right?” he asked whilst he rubbed his bum which was obviously sore from his scrap with the wizard earlier.
Gwydion shrugged as he regarded the much smaller man. “Lying is no way to do business, little angel.” Then he looked up at me. “And neither are threats.”
Addie approached the angel. “Look, guys, I’d be the first to tell you if I thought this was a trap. But Gwydion has been nothing but kind to us and generous. And Jeanne trusts him.” She took a breath then motioned behind her shoulder. “There’s a bath waiting in that tent for anyone who wants it as well as changes of clothing.”
The Welshman nodded towards the stacked foodstuff boxes beneath one of the trees. “I’m also able to provide you with sustenance.” His eyes fell to the boxes I’d dropped once we stepped into the perimeter of his encampment. “But you’ve already managed that necessity or so it appears.”
“Aye,” I said.
It grew quiet and Gwydion eyed me as narrowly as I did him. I felt everyone’s eyes on me, each pair asking the same question: what to do next?
“Well, Tallis Black, will you accept my offer?” Gwydion asked.
I took a deep breath but then nodded. Whatev
er I could accuse Mag’s nephew, he’d never violate the laws of hospitality when it came to providing for his guests. Even within the most evil of people, there exists a code that must nae be broken. And providing meals, a wash, and a bed to wary travelers was one such code that had existed for centuries and would continue. Even in this—the most wretched of places.
Addie placed a concerned hand on the angel’s shoulder. “Why don’t you bathe next? You and our Scottish throw rug over there have been in need of cleaning up longer than any of us.”
The angel nodded. “Guess it’s time I took care of my fauxgiene.”
“What?” Addie asked.
The angel shrugged. “Combo of faux and hygiene, babycakes.”
Addie frowned at him. “I got that much.”
“It’s like half-heartedly cleaning yoself but not ‘cause you like wanna be clean. More due to the social pressure to appear like you actually give a shit.”
“If you weren’t an angel and incapable of dying, there’s no way you ever would have lasted this long,” Addie said.
“True dat, true dat,” the angel responded as he began whistling and started for the tent.
Once he was inside, Kay called out after him, “And don’t take too long!”
Jeanne reassured her with a smile. “Time moves quite differently within the bounds of the tent. Indeed, you may be quite shocked at how little time it takes to clean yourself and dress.”
Given his slovenly habits, I had me own suspicion the angel would require even less time than Jeanne expected. Nae two seconds later, the angel emerged. He was still dressed in his dirty clothes but his face was shaven and there was considerably less dirt upon his person. Kay rolled her eyes before stepping into the tent herself.
In the meantime, I moved the box of foodstuffs to join Gwydion’s beneath one of the oak trees. When I turned back around, the Welshman was approaching, with a pair of blade shears. He clicked them together suggestively, which made me eye the obviously sharp blades of the implement warily. That, in turn, made Gwydion scoff.
“Oh, come now. You cannot argue that you could use a trim after all those months of captivity.”
Me wary gaze moved from the shears to his eyes. “Sae ye heard aboot that, then?”
The Welshman dipped his head to the side. “I was told of your time as Alaire’s captive, yes.”
“An’ who told ye?”
“The lovely Jeanne.”
Gwydion’s mention of Joan Of Arc caused me to look at her. While the others busied themselves with bathing and dressing within the tent, Jeanne was vigilant, carefully searching for any signs of trouble.
I wondered if Gwydion knew Jeanne’s true identity but decided nae to ask. He most probably had figured it out and if not, ‘twas better nae to alert him.
Gwydion drew me attention back to him by tugging upon me beard. “You must have been a prisoner for a long time,” he said, eyeing the length of me beard. Then he glanced up at me head. “All that hair must be terribly uncomfortable, not to mention the bugs and lice.”
“Ah’ve managed. And Ah can manage a while longer if need be.”
Gwydion held up his hand. “I offer my services.”
“An’ Ah deny them.”
He shook his head. “Come now, Tallis Black, let this be the moment when we put our pasts behind us and look toward the future.”
“An’ why should we dae that?”
“Because we are both powerful men, are we not?”
“Aye.”
“Then could we not find it within both our best interests to become allies of some kind?”
“Allies fer whit?”
He shrugged. “For whatever may come our way.”
“Ah dinnae troost ye. Never have.”
“Well, you are a smart man as surely as you are powerful.” He glanced down at the shears in his hand before looking up at me again. “I swear on the soul of my beloved nephew, Lleu Llaw Gyffes, that I shall do you no harm in the course of cutting your hair and beard.”
I wanted to call his bluff, but he swore on the name of the only person he loved. There was nae way he would harm me. And ‘twas true that I sorely needed a shave and trim. Thus, I sat down upon the nearest rock with me back to him, but only after I put me blade in me lap. “Aye, well, git on with it, then.”
“Thus downward from a craggy steep we found…”
-Dante’s Inferno
TWENTY
TALLIS
The sound of snipping shears began at the back of me neck.
“Come, come, Tallis. We both know your lady love will be quite relieved to see you cleaned up.”
“Me lady love?” I felt me eyes narrowing of their own accord. I didnae like the fact that Gwydion knew of Lily. I tried looking over me shoulder at him. He gave me a quick “uh-uh” and pushed me head back to the front. “An’ was that somethin’ else Jeanne told ye?”
“No, no, whispers of your more recent exploits seem to be all the buzz lately. Rumors even managed to penetrate all the way down here, if you can believe it,” he continued, sounding as though he was discussing the weather. The metallic clicking of the shears continued. “When I heard a woman from the world above was traveling with you, well, I was truly warmed. I suppose you can call me a romantic at heart.”
I grunted. “Nae so certain yer sister, Arianhrod, would agree.”
The weight of me hair diminished with each snip of the shears, landing in me lap in clumps of black. “Be that as it may, if there is any truth to the rumors, I’m quite happy for you. You’ve been alone far, far too long, bladesmith.”
Clumps of me hair were being thrown about willy nilly and me suspicions rose again. “Now, would ye be collectin’ me hair tae use in a spell?”
Gwydion hummed in the negative. “Oh, every last strand will be burned when I’m finished. You are, after all, my guest. And such deceit would be terribly rude of me, not to mention against the code.”
“Aye, ye have always lived accordin’ tae the code.”
“Of course!” Gwydion said upon a laugh. “And so shall I continue.”
Seeing as the bastard was in such a chatty, chummy mood—as always—I figured I’d try to get something useful out of him. “Would Ah be rude meself if Ah asked aboot the goings-on at the morgue?”
The tent flap rustled from behind me and I heard the sound of footsteps and laughter—a sound which was sae foreign in the Underground City. Meanwhile, Gwydion’s shears reached the middle of me head.
“Hardly, not when knowing such things might help keep yourself and your companions alive,” he answered me question. “What do you wish to know?”
Me eyes swept through the wreckage in front of me as I asked me first question. “Whose side dae ye favor in this fracas?”
“The same one I always do… my own.”
“And have ye told either side aboot yer allegiance tae yerself?”
“Goodness no!” he laughed. “Why ruin the surprise? We both know how repetitive everything eventually becomes down here. I’ve found these silly wars quite entertaining, actually.”
“Sae how did these wars come aboot? Ah’m nae surprised by the fightin’ now that the prisoners are free, boot—”
“But you wonder how they became freed in the first place?”
I would have nodded but me head was playing captive to Gywdion’s hands and shears. The proximity of the shears to me scalp made me answer “Aye” instead.
“If you’ll kindly turn towards me…?”
I did as he asked, careful to balance me blade in me lap. Once I was resettled, he grabbed the bottom of me beard and applied the shears. “I hate to disappoint you but I have no true knowledge of this conflict’s origins. The first time I heard about it, I was in the process of being released from that rack you strapped me to.”
He handed me a mirror I hadnae realized he’d brought with him. Of course, he could have simply magicked it from the very ether that surrounded us. Something that was more probably the case.
I glanced at me reflection, noting me hair which was cropped tightly to my head. And me face was beginning to show skin again as he cut the beard away.
“Mayhap ye should retire yer wizardry skills in pursuit o’ a barberin’ career? Ye are quite good.”
Gwydion laughed but there was nae real humor in the sound. “Very funny, bladesmith.”
Once his laughter died down, I moved back to the subject. “So ye’ve nae idea why the fightin’ originated, then?”
“Oh, I’ve always got plenty of ideas. Some of them are just more appropriate than others.”
“Any o’ them involve the Spites?”
He chuckled softly as if I’d stated the most ridiculous idea possible. “Oh, no, I doubt they were part of anyone’s plan. Even Alaire would never be so rash as to think he could control the Spites. No one can.”
“But Alaire is involved in this, aye?”
He snipped off another piece of me beard that landed in me lap. “Aye,” he answered, having a go at me accent. “Along with practically every other resident of the Underground City. Were things any different when you were in charge?”
I felt me mouth tighten. “Ye nae be sayin’ that Alaire an’ Ah are one an’ the same, are ye?”
“Of course not!”
“Then whit are ye sayin’?”
“Given what the Spites became, what’s the point of releasing them? They’re incapable of being controlled and all they’ve done is wreak havoc upon both sides. All those centuries of extracting the worst instincts of men made those vicious spirits a ravenous, mindless hive.”
“Speakin’ from experience, are we?”
He clipped away the last of me beard and gave it a closer look. “Why do you always refuse to give me the benefit of the doubt?”
“Why do ye always act like ye know more than yer lettin’ on?”
The shears found me bushy upper lip. “Touche, as the French say.”
I waited until he finished me mustache before asking me next question. “With all that concentrated strength ye mentioned, could the Spites have broken through Pandora’s Box on their own?”
