Better Off Dead: The Lily Harper Series, Book 1

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Better Off Dead: The Lily Harper Series, Book 1 Page 17

by H. P. Mallory


  I shrugged, not really sure what more I could say about it. “So, basically, we just acted out the average daily life in our village, each of us interacting with one another as befitted our station, trading and the like.”

  “An’ did ye liff in thess toon?”

  “No. Our group met a couple of weeknights and weekends.” Then I shrugged. “I mean, we did have day jobs.”

  Tallis nodded like he finally understood but then started worrying his lower lip as if he wasn’t completely satisfied with my answers to all his questions. Overall, a definite expression of interest and slight bafflement remained on his face. He glanced over at me, his eyebrows furrowed. “An’ waur ye paid ah guid wage tae dae thess?”

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes, now getting frustrated. And, no, it didn’t surprise me in the least that his line of thinking tended toward the “What’s in it for me?” Tallis Black definitely struck me as an opportunist. But returning to the subject, this conversation really was a total waste of my time. Since Tallis had basically lived through the middle ages, he probably couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to relive them. “No, I received no wage. I did it because I thought it was … well, fun.”

  “Foon, lass?” he barked at me while shaking his head, all of which was followed by a mocking laugh. “Ah didnae consider those days foon, noot wif th’ coonstant woory ah invasion, th’ black deaf an’ starvation.”

  “So if you are an immortal Druid, like you claim to be,” I started, intending to change the subject while spotting an opportunity to drill him for information.

  “Ah am.”

  “Then why are you the only one? Or are there other immortal Druids out there like yourself?”

  He shook his head and dropped his gaze to the now skinless creature in his hands. Its fur lay folded on the ground beside him, looking like bloodied linens. After rotating it a few times, he began cutting it in half. That done, he cut each half into halves. Then, eyeing my pile of sticks, he motioned for me to hand him a branch. I sorted through them until I found a fairly straight and sturdy one. Handing the stick to him, I watched him run it through a hunk of the meat. He motioned for a few more sticks, which I gave him. Then he skewered the last three pieces of meat, all of which were about the width and length of my foot. He handed two of the skewers to me, which I held over the fire. The other two he rested on a tattered piece of muslin. Then he stood up and retrieved his canister of water, washing off the blood on his hands.

  “Ah am th’ oonly oone, th’ oonly Druid left ah mah kin.”

  “Why?” I demanded, carefully keeping both pieces of meat away from the flames so as not to scorch them.

  Tallis cleared his throat and looked decidedly uncomfortable. He didn’t sit back down, but stood over me, which was incredibly intimidating, owing to his immense stature. “It is mah cross tae bear,” he answered forlornly.

  “What did you do in the past?” I threw the words at him, afraid they wouldn’t come out otherwise. When he didn’t respond, the weight of the silence descended on me, and I nervously continued. “Obviously, you’re doing … penance for something and anyone can see you’re haunted by it.”

  “Ah doona care tae discoos it.”

  But I wasn’t listening to him. Instead, I was still too absorbed in solving the riddle of what had turned him into the broken person he now was. “I’m sure something happened in your past which is why you flog yourself?” Even as I uttered the words, my brashness in asking surprised me.

  As I imagined he would, Tallis shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest while regarding me with a glower. “Nae, that has naethin’ ta dae wif mah pest.”

  “Then why do you lash yourself?” I continued, my tone of voice curiously conversational. With nothing to lose, I figured I might as well push as far as he would let me.

  “That is mah business.”

  I took a deep breath, wondering how Tallis would take the self-help advice of Steve Maraboli that I was about to offer him. “Unless you let go, unless you forgive yourself, unless you forgive the situation, unless you realize that the situation is over, you cannot move forward.” Once the words left my mouth, neither of us said anything for a few seconds. Something twitched in Tallis’s jaw, a jaw which seemed incredibly tight. I was suddenly worried I might have said too much, and gone too far. “I was just trying to help.”

  “Keep yer help tae yerself,” he answered tersely.

  I shook my head, feeling annoyed. “When you asked me about my life, I willingly told you.”

  “Aye boot thess isnae aboot tit fur tat. Ye made th’ choice tae teel meh aboot yerself jist as Ah make th’ choice nae tae teel ye.”

  “Fine, I’ll remember that.” Hunching over, I paid full attention to the fire, suddenly realizing I’d held the meat on the same side for too long, and now both pieces were charred. I rotated them while exhaling a deep breath, averting my eyes from my unfriendly companion. But my anger ended up getting the best of me, and I glared at him. “Don’t for one second think that I’m some stupid idiot.” Tallis’s eyebrows reached for the sky as if thinking I was an idiot was the last thought that would occur to him. I further narrowed my eyes. “I’m onto you. I know there’s a reason why you decided to escort Bill and me on this mission to hell, and it wasn’t out of empathy.”

  His eyes were just as hard as mine. “Empaffy?” he scoffed, his lips curling up into a mockery of a smile. Seconds later, the smile vanished and his lips became painfully straight. “Nae, empaffy plays nae role en mah plans.”

  “Then what does?”

  “Ye dae recall Ah named mah price tae escort ye?”

  I nodded, but that didn’t mean I bought his explanation. “Yes, I remember. But there’s more to it than the money for you; and if you think I’m going to buy that lousy explanation, you don’t give me enough credit.”

  “Och aye! Ah gie ye plenty ay credit. It’s yer bludy intelligence that makes ye dangeroos.”

  I continued to study him, taking his words as a compliment even though I knew they weren’t intended to be. I felt my jaw tighten as I further considered him. “Why do you want credit for the soul we’re going to retrieve?” He was completely silent, but I didn’t miss the rigidity of his posture. His chest rose and fell quickly, with his increased respiration. The question made him uncomfortable at the very least, although “nervous” was probably more fitting. “Do you want to know what I think?” I continued, seeing that he wasn’t going for my bait.

  “E’en if Ah didnae, ye woods teel me anyway, Besom.” I ignored the jibe, raising one brow to let him know I wasn’t impressed. He just shook his head like I was infuriating. Well, if that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black! Tallis Black was the most infuriating man I’d ever had the misfortune of encountering!

  “I think you’re really a Retriever, just like me; but for some reason, you won’t admit it.” He just stood there with his arms crossed and his expression just as safeguarded, as I continued. “What? Are you too ashamed to admit that AfterLife Enterprises is your employer?”

  He finally shook his head and his acidic laugh cut through the air. “Ah am nae Retriever an’ Ah am nae employed by anyain save mahself.”

  I glared up at him. “Then why are you here with me now? And why do you insist on taking credit for this mission? What do you need the credit for if you aren’t a Retriever?”

  Scowling at me for another few seconds, his eyes became so consumed by ire, they almost appeared closed. He finally exhaled a long breath, staring at the ground in front of my feet. Releasing a disgruntled “harrumph,” he sat down, resting against the stump he’d occupied earlier. “Ye are stubboorn as ah bludy mule!”

  “Hee-haw!” I brayed at him with a smile, recognizing that he’d just caved.

  He shook his head, but couldn’t keep the amused smile off his lips. “Afore Scootlund was as ye an’ Ah noow ken it, ’twas called Alba, ah land ah noomeroos tribes,” he started in a faraway voice that sounded both deeply resonant an
d soft. “Ah was ah th’ Votadini clan oan th’ Lothians coastline.”

  “What are the Lothians?”

  “Ah region, lass. It lies atween th’ Firth ah Forth an’ th’ Lammermuir Hills. Ye live in th’ Lothians as ye reside in Auld Reekie.”

  “Auld Reekie?” I asked, shaking my head.

  “Edinburgh,” he finished with a slight chuckle, as if entertained that I wasn’t in the know. But just as quickly as his laugh appeared, he extinguished it and the familiar, brooding glower which characterized him returned. “In th’ Votadini, Ah was ah th’ chief’s kin, th’ elite. Given mah physique an’ mah size, ’twas natural that Ah shoods be leader ah th’ chieftain’s warband.”

  “Yes, that only makes sense.”

  He glanced at me as though he’d forgotten I was even there. He seemed so captured by his own thoughts that he’d been taken somewhere far away, somewhere that only lived in the deep cavity of his memories. Judging by the expression on his face, the land of his memories was a dark and foreboding destination.

  “Ah was especially accomplished as th’ leader ah th’ oother warriors. Ah drunk mah ale an’ mead, wrestlin’ wiff mah brothers ah th’ warband an’ gittin’ noomeroos dalliances wiff th’ lasses. Ah wanted fer noothin’.”

  I started to blush as he recalled his sexual escapades. Well, at least this conversation put to bed (no pun intended) one of the mysteries regarding the Scotsman—that being that he hadn’t always practiced celibacy. ’Course, on second thought, maybe he wasn’t even practicing it now—maybe I just wasn’t his type. I couldn’t help but think, were I his type or not, that given the subject of my virginity and its associated perils in the Underground City, that he would have just sucked it up and “given me the sausage,” as Bill so aptly put it.

  “Boot then th’ Roomans came,” Tallis continued with a tight jaw, both fists clenched at his sides. “Aye, they came an’ they coonquered, as they say.” He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. When he lifted his eyes to mine, they seemed hollow and shadowy, in a word, pained. “’Twas Samhain, th’ festival ah th’ new year, th’ oonly time when th’ gate ’twixt thess wurld an’ th’ wurld beyoond thess oone is oopen. The oonly time when spirits o’ th’ dead wander amoong us.”

  I eyed the meat, having again forgotten it, and noticed both of my shish kabobs were black on both sides. Taking them off the fire, I handed them to Tallis, unsure how he preferred to dish them up. He accepted both, holding them at eye level, and inspecting each one, but making no motion to get up from where he leaned against the tree.

  “Sorry, please continue. I just didn’t want to char them anymore than I already have,” I offered by way of explanation.

  Tallis nodded, but remained oblivious to the overcooked meat. “Althoogh ’twas dangeroos, Ah coonvinced th’ auld priestess tae brew me ah tea made froom th’ spores ah th’ rye foongus.”

  “What is the rye fungus?”

  “When brewed inta tea, th’ spoores alloow yer soul ta separate from yer boody sae ye can see beyoond this wurld an’ intae th’ next.”

  “Why would anyone want to do that?” Keeping your soul within your body seemed like the best place for it to be.

  “Ah didnae want tae,” he answered in a snippy tone, apparently annoyed at my interruption. “As ’twas Samhain, by drinkin’ th’ tea, Ah was openin’ mah boody tae th’ spirits, an’ tae oone certain spirit in particular.” Then he took a breath. “Donnchadh, th’ moost powerful ah warriors. Th’ bards woods sing ah his ability wif ah sword an’ his brutality when it came tae destroyin’ his enemies.”

  “So you possessed yourself?” I asked askance. My mouth dropped open just as an image of Linda Blair in The Exorcist flashed through my head. “Willingly?”

  Tallis shook his head and speared me with another expression of utter annoyance. “Ye dinnae oonderstand th’ risk ah th’ Roomans. They waur conquerin’ our clans, toonship by toonship. As Ah saw it, Ah hud nae oother choice.”

  “So the spirit of Donchad took over your body?” He glanced at me with a raised brow over my mispronunciation of the spirit’s name. “Potato, potato, whatever,” I grumbled.

  He didn’t drop the smile but continued. “Aye. Ah alloowed heem intae mahself. Efter free nichts ah infernal pain, th’ rye spores passed frae mah boody.”

  “So did the possession work?” I demanded. “Did the spirit of this warrior help you defeat the Romans?”

  Tallis was quiet for a few long moments before he shook his head and sighed despondently. The look in his eyes became one of utter despair. “Th’ Roomans wouldnae be defeated soo easily. Instead, mah bravery an’ mah ability in battle oonly attracted their attention.” He looked down at his hands, each of which held the skewers of meat. He handed one to me. “Ye shoods eat.”

  “What happened with the Romans?” I asked, accepting the skewer he offered me without taking a bite.

  “Whit happened? Ah was captured in coombat an’ given th’ ooption tae help them ur tae die.”

  “To help them?” I shook my head, not understanding.

  “They wanted th’ Votadini land an’ as they saw it, they hud oonly th’ chieftain an’ th’ warbands standin’ in their way. If Ah, as leader ah th’ Votadini warriors, sided wif th’ Roomans an’ betrayed mah oown folk, they cooulds triumph.”

  “But you didn’t do that,” I started, shocked, as I shook my head against the mere idea of Tallis selling out his tribesmen. “You … you hated the Romans,” I stammered. “You hate them now!”

  He inhaled deeply and released his breath a few seconds after as his eyes settled on his fingers. Cracking his knuckles, he raised his stricken gaze to mine. “Th’ Roomans proomised meh riches, fame an’ th’ kingdom ah th’ Votadini lands.”

  “The kingdom?”

  “Aye.”

  “But what about the old chief, er, chieftain?” I asked, feeling a lump forming in my throat. I just didn’t want to believe, couldn’t believe, that Tallis would have even considered taking the Romans up on their offer. I hated to think he was capable of such utter and complete treachery.

  He shook his head, his eyes boring into mine and his were empty pits, never ending voids of nothing. “Th’ chieftain was ah loost cause, regardless. Th’ Roomans planned ta keel heem anyway.”

  “But … but wasn’t the chieftain your family? You said you were the chief’s kin?”

  He gritted his teeth. “Aye, he was mah ooncle.”

  I didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but listened to my heartbeat while it pounded through my head. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I released it. “Please tell me you didn’t backstab your own people.”

  He didn’t say anything, but simply stared at me. But he also didn’t need to say anything because the answer was there in his eyes. “Then you agreed?” I asked, my mouth agape. A stabbing sense of disappointment began penetrating every fiber of my being. I shook my head against the inanity of my own disappointment. I didn’t know Tallis Black from anyone, so why I should be disappointed in him, I didn’t know. Furthermore, once this mission was over, he’d go his way and I’d go mine; that would be the end of it. Yep, his sordid past had absolutely no effect on me whatsoever.

  So why was disillusionment still cresting inside me? I didn’t have an answer to my question and, instead, focused on this side of Tallis that I never imagined existed. Despite being anything but friendly, he appeared to live his life according to some moral code. ’Course, ratting out your family and fellow clansmen wasn’t exactly upholding the code.

  “Aye, Ah agreed,” he spat the words out, as if they disgusted him.

  “But what of the other warriors in your warband? You called them your brothers?”

  “Massacred.”

  His answer hit me just as keenly as a palm across my face. “The Romans slaughtered them?”

  “Aye,” he answered, exhaling deeply and dropping his eyes down to the dirt on the ground. He drew circular patterns in the dirt, using the end of the sk
ewer. It was pretty apparent that neither of us was interested in our dinner.

  “Then what happened?” I asked, almost dreading his answer. I was still reeling with the realization that he wasn’t the person I thought he was. It was as if someone ripped away the façade that I first believed was Tallis Black and I was now looking at his changeling.

  “Ah was ah fool tae troost th’ wahrd of ah Rooman,” he said with a bitter laugh.

  “Then they didn’t keep their word to you either?” I asked, thinking he probably deserved any ill treatment he received at their hands. Whatever the options, or lack thereof, backstabbing your own family was beyond wrong.

  “Nae, they didnae, noot when they realized they couldna coontrol me sich as they hooped.”

  “So what did they do to you?”

  He laughed out. “They murrdad me.”

  “They killed you!” I almost choked on the words while shaking my head in a cloud of confusion. Could Tallis Black simply be a spirit, a ghost? “You must mean they tried to murder you?”

  He laughed again, a deep sound totally devoid of humor. “Aye, they tried. Boot th’ spirit ah th’ warrior within meh, imbued meh wif immortality.” His eyes bored into mine. “Ah couldna be kilt … jist as Ah cannae be kilt noow.”

  I nearly swallowed my own tongue. There was something horrible but familiar stirring in my gut that felt very much like fear. “Then the spirit of the warrior is the reason you’re immortal now?”

  He simply nodded, the expression on his face unreadable.

  “You’re still possessed by him?”

  “Aye.”

  I just stared at him without knowing what to think or say. Was it customary to offer your condolences to someone possessed? I wasn’t sure. For that matter, what did possession really mean? Was I talking to Tallis or to the ghost? There was only one way to find out. “So, uh, are you like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?”

  Tallis chuckled and shook his head. “Nae, ’tis naethin’ like that. Ah’ve learned tae suppress Donnchadh’s spirit. Soometimes, Ah even forgit he’s wif meh. Th’ oonly reminder Ah hae ah his presence comes every morn Ah wake oop.”

 

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