Thonn Day

by Simon Haynes



  Thonn Day

  Simon Haynes

  Copyright (c) 2011 by Simon Haynes

  Thonn hummed to himself as he strode along the dusty track. He wore nothing but a loin cloth, and his tanned skin was warm under the summer sun. There was a rough bag thrown over his thin shoulder, a bag which he shifted from side to side as the itchy fabric became too much to bear.

  "Thonn, there's a lad. Take this 'ere bag to Eddie de Elder. 'E'll give yer a sheepskin to bring on back," his father had said, adding the unnecessary, "don't tarry, mind, or I'll leather yer backside."

  Thonn wondered why his father spoke like a market stall attendant, given the easy access to books on diction and pronunciation. He shrugged the bag to the opposite shoulder as he pondered the general lack of education amongst his kinfolk. It wasn't that they were stupid, never that, but his father was the sort of man who could drive a six-inch nail into an oak beam with his forehead.

  Thonn vaulted a low gate and began the long climb to Eddie's cottage. On either side of the path, twisted olive trees struggled to survive on the thin, rocky soil and dry-stone walls held back the hillside in a series of giant steps. According to village legend, the walls had taken over ten years to complete, but Gnarl de Woodcutter had once confided that walls such as these could be finished in single day with the help of Magick. Now that Magick was no more, people had to work with their hands and heads. "Unless you're my father," muttered Thonn. "Then it's hands all the way."

  Suddenly, a sharp, stinging pain ran up Thonn's leg. He yelled a goat-herding word and bent to examine the wound, wincing as he saw the sharp piece of stone protruding from his calloused sole. He pulled the shard and examined it closely. It was a blue-grey stone, triangular and thin like the arrowheads Gunter de Hunter used. Shrugging, Thonn dropped the stone into a fold in his loin cloth, spat on the wound to heal it and struggled to his feet.

  He walked gingerly for a while, but the pain passed and his strides lengthened. Towards the top of the hill, he passed a wall marking the end of the olive trees. Here the land was untouched - a tangle of bushes, long summer grasses and a number of plants with long spiky leaves; leaves which the Wise Elders used for medicinal purposes at village gatherings. Actually, they were leaves which the Wise Elders used pretty well all the time, and the so-called Elders were no longer Wise but Wide-Eyed and Vacant. Thonn had sidled into a downwind position once, and if the smoke was half as strong when inhaled, it was little wonder the Elders sat there gazing into space with rapt expressions on their faces.

  The track petered out, and Thonn crossed the unkempt, un-watered garden to Eddie's front door. He was just about to knock when he heard someone yelling inside the house. He glanced around to see whether anyone was watching, then shuffled over to a nearby window for a quick peek. Ever the opportunist, Thonn often supplemented his meagre rations with a judiciously withheld word or two.

  By standing on tiptoe he could just see over the dry, warped sill, and he spotted Eddie straight away. The elder was prancing around his study in a cloud of white smoke. "Oh my, how unusual," muttered Thonn drily. Nothing to be gained, he was about to turn away when something about the old loony's attire stopped him: Why the grubby dressing gown? Why the weathered hood and leather-bound book held at arm's length? Why the constant screeching in some devilish tongue?

  Suddenly, a glowing ball of light appeared in front of Eddie's face, bobbing and coalescing like a mass of copulating glow-worms. Thonn almost fell over. Christ, the old fart was doing MAGICK! He watched Eddie approach the ball, closer and closer, until his nose was just millimetres from contact. Then ...

  POOF!

  The old man leapt back, trailing white smoke. His tangled grey beard had gone, as had his eyebrows and his matted grey fringe, all vaporised by the magic fireball.

  Thonn gasped, and before he could duck Eddie spotted him.

  "Er, got a bag of things for you, Eddie." said Thonn.

  The old man looked apprehensive. "How long have you been watching?"

  "I was at the front door and I heard you shouting. When I looked over the windowsill, you'd just finished shaving," said Thonn, proving that stupidity wasn't always hereditary.

  "Ah, very good," said Eddie, looking relieved. He felt his bald head carefully. "I be trying to light a fire, and a gust of wind blew the flames back in me face."

  Thonn looked over his shoulder at the blazing summer sun, then turned slowly back to Eddie. "Is that a good book?" he asked innocently. "I haven't seen that one before."

  "Book?" Eddie looked anywhere but down. "What book?"

  "The one on the floor, by your right foot." said Thonn, pointing.

  "Ah, no. Terrible, terrible. I were just going to use it as kindling."

  "Can I read it first?" asked Thonn. "Please? The village only has books on diction and vocabulary."

  "Is that so?" Eddie looked at him thoughtfully. "Why don't you come in, lad? Don't let's talk through the window."

  Thonn walked round to the door, where Eddie was waiting for him. He entered, handing over the bag on the way through.

  "Sit down, lad. I be needing a favour," begun Eddie.

  Thonn plonked himself down on a chair and waited.

  "So, lad. You like reading, do you?"

  "Yes sir," replied Thonn.

  "Can you read this?" asked Eddie, holding out the book.

  Thonn glanced at the cover, then did a double-take. "Mastery of Magick Vol. II," it said, in faded copperplate script. The book fell open. "Shaving Spell," read Thonn aloud. He scanned the instructions, then ran his hand thoughtfully over his chin. He glanced at Eddie's hairless face, then looked around the hut. His gaze fell on a sheepskin draped over the back of a chair.

  Eddie watched closely.

  Thonn leapt to his feet and chanted the words written in the book, then waved a hand towards the sheepskin. It glowed with soft white light, and there was a slithering sound as the wool slipped off and fell to the floor. The light faded, leaving a bare skin draped over the chair.

  "Wow," said Thonn.

  Eddie stood nearby, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

  "WOW!" yelled Thonn, flipping through page after page of incredibly useful Magick: Knife Sharpening Spell, Fish Catching Spell, Wall Building Spell, Undressing Spell. Thonn's eyes popped at the illustration of a young lady standing near a cart, her hands clasped around her nakedness while two young men in gowns rolled on the floor, laughing. He looked at Eddie pensively.

  Eddie held his hand out. "Give me the book, Thonn."

  The youngster hesitated, then handed the book back. Even loony old men had to be obeyed. It was the way of the village.

  Eddie slipped the book into a pocket in his gown. "Best you don't mention this," he said gently.

  "But why? I can do Magick!" said Thonn.

  "Magick is banned," said Eddie. "Magick brought ruin on the men and women of our land. There are those that can sense Magick, those that chase it and the power it can give them. Best not to attract their attention to our part of the world."

  "So why were you doing it, then?"

  "Magick is a temptress - more powerful than any living being. It takes its pleasure from your mind, eating it up in stages. Takes you over, slow like."

  "But what if Magick could be tamed?"

  Eddie shook his head, his face grave. "It cannot."

  "But I can use the book for good! You must give it back!" shouted Thonn.

  "Must?" growled Eddie. "You forget yourself, lad. Now be off with you!"

  "Dad said to take a sheepskin with me," said Thonn, sulkily.

  Eddie pointed to the hairless skin draped over the chair. "You'd better think up an excuse on the way home," he said, chuckling.