Brotherhood Saga 03: Death

by Kody Boye

  “Of course,” Karma said. “I’d love to.”

  “I don’t bear good news, I’m afraid.”

  “Is something… wrong?”

  “Something’s terrible happened,” he sighed. “Something very terrible.”

  “Where in God’s name have you been?” Ectris Karussa asked, taking Odin into his arms the moment he opened the door. “Dammit, boy—you about scared the shit out of me if there weren’t none.”

  “I’m sorry,” Odin said, bowing his head into his father’s neck before leaning back to kiss his cheek. “Father… I… we need to talk about something.”

  “Of course.” Ectris looked past Odin’s shoulder at both Karma and Virgin, who stood near shoulder-to-shoulder in the slight downfall of snow. “Who might this be? And Karma? What’re you doing here?”

  “Your son invited me to visit you,” the midwife said, stepping into the house before Ectris could begin to invite her in.

  Without so much as a word in passing, Ectris gestured Odin and Virgin inside, then closed the door, taking a moment to secure the lock and chain before turning to examine them. “Do you want me to—“

  “I’ll make tea,” Karma said, scurrying off into the kitchen.

  “Son,” Ectris said, smiling when his eyes once more fell upon Odin. “God, boy… what’s happened to you? You look so thin.”

  “Miko’s dead, Father.”

  Ectris’ face paled. “What?”

  “He was killed in the summer, when the force from Denyon came and claimed Dwaydor. He was… shot…” Odin somehow managed to maintain his tears by snorting snot that threatened to come running out his nostrils. “By a Dwarf that was with Herald.”

  “My God,” Ectris said. “Odin, I’m—“

  “That’s not all. He… he told me you… you weren’t my father.”

  There, Odin thought, grimacing, swallowing the lump in his throat as Virgin stepped forward from behind to set a hand on his shoulder. I said it.

  The moment of truth, the eclipse of time, when the sun and the moon aligned to create what could be seen as something of a ring of light around a hole of darkness—that, in the sky, could potentially spell death for everyone who looked upon it. They said to gaze upon such an event could instill the Gods’ power within a mortal man—that if magic ran free within one’s veins, they could tear the world asunder. It would have appeared that such an event had happened, given his adoptive father’s facial expression and the way one vein throbbed and another in his neck quivered, but for that Odin couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that the news, as devastating as it was, had to have been harsh, especially given that, up until that time several months ago, he had believed Ectris to be his only father.

  “What else did he say?” Ectris finally said, as if he were out of breath and desperately trying to maintain hold on reality.

  “He said that he brought me to you,” Odin said, “on one long, stormy night.”

  At this, Ectris shivered and reached up to brush his arms, as if he’d developed a chill or spiders had run along his forearms. He then shook the tips of his fingers, like he was flinging water from them, until the tremble subsided. When it did, his eyes faltered and stared directly at Odin—into, what he could only perceive, was his very soul. “You may not be my real son,” Ectris said, stepping forward to bridge the distance between them, “but you’re as much my child as you would be had you been born of my flesh and blood.”

  “He’s right,” Karma said, stepping forward with a chorus of cups in one hand and a steaming pot of tea in the other. “Come, friends. Sit. Let us discuss what has happened.”

  As Odin sat down—taking a seat directly next to Virgin not only to keep his wits, but to assure himself that he would have a direct look at his adoptive father—he stared into Ectris’ eyes and tried to discern the emotions that were there. He could not, in the least, see anything other than unease, which came from his still-quivering lip and a bead of unnatural sweat that shivered down one side of his face, but he imagined there must be so much more there, possibly even fear and desperation.

  What must it feel like to lose a child, if only in the emotional sense? Does it feel like being stabbed in the chest with a broad-hilted sword, then having it twisted and pulled out of one’s torso, or does it come with the sensations of tens of hundreds of insects crawling across the skin, then stabbing into one’s flesh? However it felt, Odin thought, it couldn’t have been good, not in the least.

  When Karma settled down in the chair next to Ectris, Odin reached for Virgin’s hand beneath the table.

  When their palms touched, Virgin laced their fingers together.

  It’s all right, his pained eyes said. You can do this.

  He had no doubt of that, but just how was he to continue knowing that he was tearing apart one of the most important men in his life?

  “Father,” he said, turning his eyes from Virgin to look Ectris directly in the eyes. “Listen—“

  “I shouldn’t have lied to you,” Ectris said, reaching up to claw at his rapidly-greying but also thinning hair. “I should’ve told you when you were old enough, before we left for the castle.”

  “And what then?” Odin asked. “You know it would’ve destroyed me—us.”

  “At least I would have been honest. Now I don’t even know if I have the right to call you my son.”

  “I am your son, Father. You were the one that raised me, fed me, kept me clothed and happy. There isn’t anything that can take that away.”

  “Maybe so,” Ectris sighed. “But all those years… all that time… I should’ve known when he entered your life, Odin. I should’ve known that man… Elf… whatever he was… was the creature that brought you to me.”

  “You couldn’t have known,” Virgin said, raising his voice for the first time since the whole ordeal had begun.

  “Who is this?” Ectris asked.

  “Father, this is Virgin. He’s my… uh…”

  “Acquaintance, of sorts,” Virgin replied, tightening his hold on Odin’s hand.

  Great. Now I don’t even know how to tell my father I’m queer.

  What, in the end, would he think?

  Rather than dwell on it any further, Odin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then said, point blank, “He’s my lover.”

  Ectris merely blinked.

  That’s it? Odin thought, frowning, almost unable to believe what had just taken place.

  He’d expected something more—at the very least, some kind of questioning.

  “Well,” Karma said, setting a hand atop Ectris’ shoulder. “This is… different.”

  “Are you… well,” Ectris said, then laughed as a blush spread across his face. “Of course you would be. Why wouldn’t you? I mean, God… you’ve known each other for how long now?”

  “Almost a year,” Odin mumbled, almost embarrassed for his father for the thoughts that had to have been running through his mind.

  “Never mind that,” the man said, reaching across the table to grasp Virgin’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my friend, because anyone who loves my son must be a good person… well… man… in my eye.”

  “I care for your son very much,” Virgin replied.

  He still can’t say it.

  Odin bit his lower lip to keep from saying anything.

  “Where did you meet?” Karma asked.

  “At the edge of the Abroen,” Odin said, turning his eyes back up to Virgin. “We didn’t exactly meet on the best of terms though.”

  “I tried to rob him,” Virgin smiled.

  “Rob him?” Karma asked. “Why?”

  “Because that’s what I do. I’m a thief. Though I am happy to say, Mr. Karussa, that your son has… enlightened me in that regard.”

  “What kept you from robbing Odin then?”

  “He… charmed me,” Virgin smiled.

  Odin had to resist elbowing his companion’s side in response.

  “I see,” Ectris said, though from the way his eyes na
rrowed, Odin couldn’t help but wonder if his father knew the true story. Shortly thereafter, he opened his eyes to their normal state and turned his attention back on Odin. “I assume you won’t be staying much longer then. You must be on your way to the capital.”

  “I should be back as soon as possible,” Odin agreed, “but I can stay. It’s no problem.”

  “It’s not as though they know we’re coming back anyway,” Virgin offered.

  Nodding, Ectris reached forward, took one of the mugs from the platter, then sipped the tea Karma had prepared for the four of them whilst they talked. “I’m sorry about Miko,” he finally said. “I can see why you were devastated.”

  “He saved me,” Odin sighed. “He was one of the best friends I ever had.”

  Once more, Virgin tightened his hold on Odin’s fingers.

  Don’t cry, he thought.

  Instead, he reached up, fingered the ducts of his eyes, then smiled despite the emotions plaguing him.

  “I should go,” Karma said, standing.

  “Please stay,” Odin said, reaching across the table to take her hand before she could walk away. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

  “I have errands to attend to, my friend. Besides—this time is for the three of you, not for myself.”

  “Can I see you before I leave?”

  “You know where I live. You can say goodbye when you’re ready.”

  Shortly thereafter, Karma turned, made her way to the door, then unlocked the bolt and chain before stepping out into the cold weather.

  “She’s been… distant… the past few months,” Ectris said, stirring the contents of his mug with the spoon that Karma had assembled within the mugs.

  “How do you mean?” Odin frowned.

  “I believe she is on the verge of death, if you want the truth.”

  “No. She can’t be.”

  “She bears sign of illness, Odin. Her hands are gnarled, her eyes are dark. Hell—she can barely maintain herself nowadays without the use of her cane. I’m surprised she wasn’t using it today.”

  “She can’t be that old,” Odin said.

  “She’s perhaps only ten years older than me.”

  “Which would only make her fifty-something.”

  “Yes, but sometimes the world takes its toll on those who do kind things for people.”

  What a wicked way to see the world.

  Rather than continue his train of thought, Odin freed his fingers from Virgin’s grasp, stood, then rounded the table before allowing his hand to grasp his father’s shoulder.

  “Thank you for letting us stay here for the night,” he said, leaning down to wrap an arm around his father’s torso.

  “You don’t need to thank me, Odin. You’re welcome here anytime you want.”

  “Is there any way I can convince you to come to the capital with us?”

  “You know I’m not leaving.”

  You always were stubborn on this issue, Odin thought.

  Sighing, he leaned forward, kissed his father’s cheek, then grabbed the sack from the floor before turning and heading down the hall, leaving both Virgin and his father to talk of finer matters and lighter things.

  “Is everything all right?” Virgin asked, knocking on the open door before entering.

  “Everything’s fine,” Odin said, arranging a clean pair of clothes on the bed. “Why?”

  “I didn’t expect you to run in here so quickly.”

  “I want to get the…” Odin paused, then lowered his voice. “The book in here.”

  Virgin mouthed an ‘oh’ before using his heel to close the door. His eyes strayed from the bed, to Odin, then to where the bag sat before returning to Odin once more. “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right. I just don’t want my father finding what it is.”

  “I doubt your father’s going to go through your things, Odin.”

  “Still…”

  With an understanding nod, Virgin tested the mattress, then settled down at the end of it, reaching up to run his hands along his face before returning his attention to the wall—where, just above the doorway, a wooden sword lay displayed in all its glory.

  “I forgot about that,” Odin said, following Virgin’s eyes across the room. “That was the first sword my father ever taught me to use.”

  “Was he a soldier as well?” Virgin asked.

  “No, but he’s one hell of a fighter.”

  “I can imagine.” The Halfling toyed with the dagger at his ribs before pulling it out of its sheath and setting it on the desk. “I assume this is where—“

  “I read,” Odin said. “And learned to write.”

  “Most woodcutting men would have no reason to teach their children either.”

  “My father thought it best to know both.”

  “It’s quite a useful skill, one that many don’t know how to use, sadly.” Virgin toyed with the corner of the desk before returning his eyes to Odin. They narrowed, first, then opened entirely, before his lips pursed.

  “What?” Odin asked.

  “Why don’t you want to stay longer?”

  “Because I need to get back to the castle.”

  “Why so suddenly after you’ve been gone so long?”

  “I’m afraid of the persecution, Virgin.”

  “Who’s going to say that you’ve returned? A messenger?”

  “A falconer more like it.” Odin threw back one corner of the neatly-made bedspread and settled down on it before reaching to untie his boots.

  “What are the chances of there being a falconer in any of the towns we’ve passed?”

  “Uh, hello—there’s Ke’Tarka, for one. They send and receive messages to the capital all the time. Then there’s Dwaydor, which, despite its appearance, is more than capable of having the same type of communication.”

  “If anything,” Virgin replied, “your king will be happy to know you’re safe—and, as it would appear, making your way back to the capital. I doubt they’d train birds to follow you.”

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ve never heard of mages using birds as their eyes?” When Virgin made no move to respond, Odin laughed and kicked his boots across the room. “I mean, if there are any mages in Ke’Tarka, which I’m guessing there are, then they’d be more than capable of doing just what I’ve described.”

  “You can’t blame me for not knowing these things.”

  “I don’t.” Odin stood. “We should probably go out and into the kitchen. My father’s likely making food.”

  “Will one of us need to hunt during our time spent here?”

  “The village shares its rations. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was venison already on the table.”

  Ectris prepared for them a fine feast of venison and carefully-canned fruits and vegetables. Atop the table, that of which Odin had spent many a meal at during his youth, stood the platter of meat thick and layered with juices, while at its sides lay onions freshly cut and carrots diced to manageable pieces. Upon first glance, Virgin stepped forward and examined the setup closer, as if unable to believe what he was currently seeing, while from the kitchen Ectris raised his head from preparing what appeared to be some form of cake that would soon be slid into the oven.

  “Sit down, sit down,” Ectris said. “Go ahead and eat. I’ll be there in a moment.”

  Though given permission to do so at any given time, both Odin and Virgin took kind measure in waiting for their host to finish his preparations and seat himself before spooning food onto their plates. Odin speared the tip of an onion on the top of a fork and then impaled a piece of meat directly under it, relishing the flavor of fresh, if somewhat-dated foot, then turned his attention to his father and offered a smile the older man returned instantaneously.

  “I missed this,” Odin said.

  “There’s not much I can do about the quality of the fruits and vegetables,” Ectris replied, “but I did my best.”

&nbs
p; “It’s good,” Virgin nodded. “The best food either of us have had on our way back.”

  “Virgin’s right, Father. Give yourself credit.”

  “I appreciate that, boys. Now eat—there’s more than enough to go around.”

  That was shown to be true within the hour they spent eating. Much of the venison was devoured, while what little of the vegetables remained despite Virgin’s heightened inclination toward them. Ectris himself relished the food he served and leaned back in his seat to brace a hand over his stomach, then stood and began to gather the dishes that had accumulated over the meal.

  While Odin rose to help his father, and while Virgin made preparations to transfer what little meat there was into a pot he pulled from one of the drawers in the kitchen, Ectris looked upon both of them with eyes that seemed to radiate happiness despite the news that had been delivered earlier.

  Well, Father, Odin thought, careful to stand side-by-side his adoptive parent while helping with the dishes. It looks like you have a son-in-law.

  When he cast his eyes across the room, Virgin nodded to acknowledge the look.

  “I’d like to take the rest of the food over to Karma when we’re through,” Ectris said, raising his eyes from their work.

  “I’ll do it,” Odin said.

  “You don’t have to, son.”

  “I know. I’d like to spend some time with her before we go though—say goodbye before we have to get back to the capital.”

  “Do you plan on leaving soon?”

  “Tomorrow might be in our best interests.”

  From the table, Virgin raised his eyes and gave Odin a look.

  Sorry, he mouthed.

  Virgin simply waved his hand and continued arranging the remaining vegetables around the venison.

  In response, Odin took the rag offered by his father and scrubbed the last plate, then placed it on a towel to dry before lifting the bucket of dirty water out of the sink.

  “Let me dump this out,” Odin said. “Then I’ll take the food over to mother Karma.”

  “Do you remember where she lives?”

  “Like the back of my hand.”

  Mother Karma lived on the opposite side of the hill on a road that had been created to lead where a group of establishments had been planned after the deforestation to the north of Felnon’s ‘hump.’ However, in years past, and when winter conditions had worsened, it had become increasingly apparent that building homes on that side of the hill would pose more of a threat than any pleasantries it could offer, as it had been proven to create miniature avalanches and bury anything beneath it. Despite these realities, and regardless of the claims made by the contractors, Mother Karma had never once made any move to relocate from the single home near the hill.