by Wayne Mee
Today however was clearly not the case. Though Thorn himself had somehow managed to remain relatively unscathed, nearly a dozen of the two score that had followed his lead had not. Many were dead or wounded and had been forced to retreat from the battle --- yet still the fighting continued.
Timin, breathing heavily from an earlier encounter, managed to reach his cousin's side. Back to back they stood, two small figures in a red sea of blood and gore. Timin had stabbed a Slather in the thigh, losing his knife in the process, yet the overweight Kirkwean had somehow captured the man's short sword. For his pains Timin had been rewarded with a long cut over his right eye. His own blood now half blinded him as he shouted at Thorn.
"Well, what do we do now?!"
Thorn parried a blow and sank his Kirkaxe into a mailed forearm. The sharp, black edge bit through the iron links like old cheese. The attacker lurched away. "We follow Erin!"
Using both hands, Timin swung the Slath short sword in a wide arc. A wounded foe prudently backed away, more than willing to seek out 'tamer' victims. "Who, the manling?! He's Erg-touched for certain! Look there! See how he wades through them like 'Death' Himself!"
Thorn followed Timin's pointing blade. His large eyes suddenly widened and he sprinted towards the blood covered mercenary. Timin's jaw drop as he watched Thorn go. 'Erg strike him!', Timin cursed inwardly. 'Here we go again!'
***
Thorn saw it just before the blow was about to fall. Probably he would be too late to stop it, but he had to try. In a blur of movement he threw his small axe. The razor sharp blade sliced into the Slather's heavy shield and stuck there. The man, up to his thighs in the river and about to strike Erin from behind, spun around to face his attacker. It was then that Thorn saw an all too familiar face --- Nex, the same Slathlander that had chased them through the woods and who he had last seen near dead under a pile of earth, mud and rocks.
Nex, fighting to regain his balance as the river current tugged at his legs, saw no immediate threat and so turned and swung at the hated 'slave's' back. The blow was ill aimed and Nex's 'borrowed' armor was the best Slathland could produce, so the swordstroke was easily turned. Erin's enraged brain only registered a mild sensation of pain on his left side.
Slashing halfway through the leg of the man in front of him, Erin swung around to meet this new foe coming from behind. Nex, his shield now gone, was already ready. His long weapon held high, he was just about to bring his blade down on Erin's exposed neck when Thorn landed on his back. The Kirkwean clung to Nex like a small hound will to a bear. Both of them went down, lost from sight beneath the murky water. Moments passed, during which the red rage slowly drained from Erin, leaving him both weak-kneed and light-headed.
Then the river swirled and Thorn went flying through the air, only to splash down several vels away. Nex emerged, mud and blood covered his face. A piece of his left ear hung down in a gory mess from where the wiry little Kirkwean had bitten him --- yet his long, curved 'shim' remained in his hand.
Still in a daze, Erin saw the apparition rise up before him. He tried to get his bemused brain to think, but 'the rage' had drained him of his faculties. It was all he could do to stay standing, yet even that was beyond him now. With something approaching a sigh of relief, he slowly sank to his knees.
It was then that the arrow passed over his head and slammed into one of Nex's upraised arm. For the second time that day the Slath captain was spun around and cheated from his kill. The pain lanced up his right arm and his sword was lost in the churned-up waters. Cursing, Nex staggered away and was helped by several other retreating Slathlanders into their long ship. On board Ragnol swore and struck the railing, furious that the Chin archer had missed the slave. Behind him the stony features of Kel creased into a brief, cold smile.
By now the battle was all but over. Kirkwean and Slather alike backed away, using swords and spears as props rather than weapons. The invaders were flocking back to their ship in an attempt to get away from the fierce little 'Wee'ns', while the Kirkwean's themselves were more than glad to disengage and help the wounded back to shore.
From the middle of the river came shouts and yells as High Warder Broadbeam, having heard the fighting from the far bank, had ordered his Warders into their small skiffs and were now launching shaft after shaft at the retreating Glitch Slath.
Timin helped a half-drowned Thorn to his feet and the two of them made their way to where Erin still knelt waist deep in the river. Together they got the dazed manling to his feet and pulled him toward the safety of the woods. On the way Thorn found Nex's lost shield and retrieved his precious little Kirkaxe.
Neither side saw the lone figure of the Chin slip silently over the side of the longship and strike out for the shore downriver from the sight of the battle.
***
Chapter 6: THE BOND IS MADE
Back at the Root the females rushed about tending to the wounded, older Kirkweans grumbled over having missed 'a good fight' and youngsters like Brin, the blacksmith's son, dashed about through the great pines brandishing wooden weapons and attacking make-believe Slathers. The invaders had been beaten and all were ready to celebrate.
Granther Higgs met Thorn with a warm embrace, then abruptly stepped back and fixed his nephew with a disapproving frown. "And just what's this I hear about you 'leading a charge'?!"
Thorn took a deep breath and seemed about to speak, then apparently thought better of it. Timin, however, was more than willing to tell all. He had gone to see his widowed mother and his aunt some time before, but had soon returned to what he considered his 'second home'. Though he loved both his mother and aunt dearly, their continuous clucking and scolding was not what a 'bold fighter' needed the night after his first great battle!
As the events at the river unfolded, the old ex-High Warder's frown increased, as did the billows of smoke that came from his pipe. When Timin had finished, Granther moved to the hearth of his cluttered but cozy tree-home and knocked his ashes into the fire. He stood looking at the glowing coals for some time before continuing.
"Well, laddie, I can't say that what you did was 'smart' --- but I can say that I'm right proud of you."
"He's a fool, is what he is!" The voice from the doorway. "A brainless fool! And you Granther are little better! He could have been killed!"
Even Erin looked up from his bench by the fire at the sound of these scolding words. Though their exact meaning was lost to him, there was no mistaking their intent.
And there stood Fern, High Warder Broadbeam's daughter. The expression on her face went well with her flaming red hair, and though she stood a full head shorter than Thorn, right then and there she looked twice as fierce.
"Now, now, Fern", Granther Higgs clucked. "The lad's fit and hale. Just a might tuckered out is all."
"Hmmph!", replied Fern as she stormed into the room. "But what about Timin there? The idiot nearly lost an eye! And there is still over a dozen dead and nearly twice that sore wounded. And for what? For Forester Bramblethorn Higg's foolishness!"
An uncomfortable silence followed, during which Fern fixed them all with her clear, blue eyes. When her scathing gaze came to rest on a still befuddled Erin, she approached him as though he was a wild animal.
"And 'this' is what you risked your life for? A savage 'outlander'?!"
Granther Higgs occupied himself with stoking the fire, while Timin suddenly found the planks on the floor fascinating. Erin chuckled to himself.
"That's enough, Fern!" Thorn's voice cut through the room like a winter wind, leaving the beautiful red-haired Kirkwean standing stone still in the middle of the room. Her large eyes blazed, and her usually pretty mouth had now changed into a small crease under her pert, turned-up nose.
Thorn continued, his voice somewhat lower, but just as firm. "'Intended' we may be, and care for you deeply I certainly do, but I am not one of your father's puppets that you can order around. I am a Forester, not a Warder, and what I did this day, what all of us did, was for the good
of the Root. Bloody handed 'Slathers' were about to invade our land. They had to be stopped and stopped quickly, less many more than a dozen brave Kirkwean would have died this day."
Another silence filled the room. The tension was so thick that the air seemed to crackle. In the end Fern stomped her foot and left, though before slamming the door she told Thorn and any others in the vicinity that their 'intended marriage' was most certainly off!
"Ah, now 'friend' Thorn", put in Erin. "It seems the darlin' girl was a might 'upset'." Though Fern’s angry tirade had been in the Kirkwean tongue, the weaponsman had clearly not missed her intent.
Thorn turned his frowning gaze on the tall stranger. Both were still covered with blood and grime, more than a little of it their own. "Manling, you're one Erg-cursed of a fighter, but you've got a very big mouth."
Both Granther Higgs and Timin chuckled to themselves, followed by Erin himself. A moment later Thorn joined in. Erin continued, his tone one of mock-seriousness. "I've also got one very powerful thirst, for that ale you gave me was a wee bit on the watery side. Good sir?", he said, bowing to Granther. "Would you be havin' a wee drop o' the brew in this fine palace-in-the-trees? After a 'tongue-lashing' like that I find myself in great need o' refreshment!"
The older Kirkwean grinned like a cat and shuffled over to a cupboard. He placed a dusty stoneware crock on the table and pulled out the cork. Soon all four were drinking a potent sun-kissed liquid that tasted like wild honey on the way down and felt like wild fire when it hit bottom. Moonrise found them all singing loudly and toasting the fierce, fiery beauty of 'Fern-of-the-Flaming-Eyes'.
***
Erin's head pounded like the surf on the windswept shores of his distant homeland. A brilliant shaft of sunlight stabbed at his eyes as he moved towards the door. It didn't help his disposition any that he struck his head on the low doorjamb as he made his way out of Granther’s home. The old Kirkwean was standing on the balcony, drawing deeply on his pipe and looking down on the 'commons' far below.
"The mead a might strong for you, youngster?"
Erin's grin was more like a grimace. "We've somethin' like it on Loamin, but t'is said to 'melt stone if poured on twice'!"
Granther Higgs chuckled, then pointed with the stem of his pipe at the gathering crowd down below. "Seems like the 'Warders' have caught something. Friend of yours?"
Erin leaned over the low railing. What he saw drove the fog caused by last nights drinking right out of his head. A crowd had indeed gathered; farmers, females and young Kirkweans, along with a dozen or so Warders. In the middle of them stood the Chin archer, Kel. Erin thought he had already killed the bastard.
Turning, Erin retrieved his mail-shirt and 'shim' from inside the house and raced down the nearest stairs. By the time he reached the bottom, the crowd had grown. Baily Broadbeam's strident voice could be heard calling for order. The crowd parted to let Erin through and the High Warder followed like a skiff in tow behind a tall ship.
Erin came face to face with Kel the Chin. The tall mercenary towered more than a head and a half over the bronze-skinned man with the up-slanting eyes, yet both held the other's stare while a stony silence gripped the crowd. The slim but wiry Chin revealed nothing on his granite-like face, and though he had been stripped of his weapons, he stood like a conqueror rather than one conquered.
Then Kel did a thing that made the crowd gasp --- he went down on one knee before the tall mercenary.
Erin was as surprised as any, and for a moment knew not what to do. Then a thought came to him --- and he struck the Chin hard on the face with the flat of his hand. Kel almost lost his balance, but regained it quickly. Very quickly Erin noticed. "Get up, man! I'll have none grovel at my feet! Especially a slanty-eyed little bastard like you!"
Kel rose in one fluid movement. Erin was reminded of a snake uncoiling itself. Their two eyes locked again.
"Have you the Trade Tongue, or just that 'Slather' muck?"
The answer was short but spoke volumes: "Both."
Erin snorted, turned and began to walk away. He called back over his shoulder. "Come along with you then, for I've such a hunger that my stomach thinks my throat's been slit! Besides, there be a 'wee drink' I'll be havin' you taste."
The Chin made to follow but High Warder Broadbeam blocked the way. "Just hold on there ---!"
"Baily, don't be any more of an ass than you already are!" Thorn stood off to one side. "It's as plain as the nose on your face that Erin has him under control." Broadbeam drew himself up in a pompous stance. "'Control' is it? And just who has him under 'control'?! You I suppose?"
Thorn's sky-blue eyes were atwinkle. "Erg, Baily. Erg has us all under His Hammer."
***
"So that's it? I bested you but didn't kill you n' now you're 'my man'?" Erin banged his mug down on Granther's table. "It sounds like a quiffin' bucket o' shit to me!"
Kel never flinched, though he continued to stand beside Erin's chair.
Granther and Timin sipped their tea while Thorn toyed with the point of an arrow. It was Kel's. The Chin's bow leaned against the hearth, its tip touching the ceiling. Thorn marveled at both its length and weight. He had never seen bamboo before. "He tried to kill you yesterday. With one of these." Thorn tossed the arrow into the plank floor. "I saw him standing beside the one you call Halfhand."
Erin's cold gaze swept back to Kel. "Be that right? Did you try to stick me with one of those shafts?"
For a long moment Kel didn't respond. When he did it was in a clipped, nonemotional voice. "The 'Way of a Warrior' states clearly that if twice you try to vanquish your enemy and fail, then you have but two choices: either challenge him openly to a duel, or follow him as a servant."
Erin's own voice dropped to a near whisper. "And why do you not 'challenge' me then? Have you not the stones for a fair fight?"
For the first time the Chin actually smiled. "I chose to follow you rather than kill you, for in a dream I have seen you. Also I like not the pigs of Slathland. They know nothing of either honor of the 'Warrior Way'!"
"And I do?" It was now Erin's turn to smile. Kel's face was a study in stone. Just then there came a soft knock on the door. Timin opened it and stood back, his jaw dropping in amazement. There stood the Erg-Leath Herself. The morning light behind her lit-up her small yet beautiful form, causing her golden cascade of hair to 'burn' like the embers of a fire. The mere sight of her started yet another kind of 'fire' burning in Erin.
Timin stepped back from the door, his round eyes wide. Granther Higgs came forward. "Lady, you do my humble home great honor by you presence."
She smiled at the old Kirkwean and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. Her voice was deep for one so small. "It is I, Elder Higgs, who am honored. But come, let us forgo the formalities, Granther. And please call me Narya, like you did when I was little more than a barefoot lass playing in a field of flowers. I've come on a 'social' visit --- at least, for now."
Her dark green eyes swept the room, taking in the strange bronze-skinned Chin and coming to rest on the even stranger tall manling. Erin felt himself grow warm beneath her gaze.
That the Erg-Leath was in the Root was a rare enough event, for her duties took her to the far corners of The Wold. That she had left the Forge, her traditional 'seat of power' and actually 'come to visit' a Kirkwean's house was very strange. Asking to be called Narya was completely unheard of! Most Kirkweans had no idea that the Erg-Leath even had a first name! Something extraordinary must be afoot! Erin rose to his feet and offered her his chair. The lingering gaze she gave him was not lost on either himself or the others. "Sit you down, darlin' girl, n' have a wee drop o' good Granther here's potent brew."
Timin nearly choked. Not only had the ignorant 'manling' spoken with blatant familiarity to The Lady, but he had offered her strong drink as well!
The Erg-Leath settled her slight frame into the vacant chair, her wide eyes never leaving Erin's. "My thanks, gracious sir, but just a little. Both Granther and his fiery
mead have become almost legendary in the Wold."
This time it was the older Kirkwean who nearly choked. "You're too kind, Lady --- Narya." Beaming like a flattered child, Granther bustled off to find his best mug.
As they took up chairs around the table, the Erg-Leath spoke to the still standing Chin. "And won't you be joining us, sir? "
Kel's face remained carved from granite. "I have not had my master's leave to sit, Kind Lady."
The Erg-Leath turned to Erin. "Are you such a hard taskmaster that you deny your servant a chair?"
Erin waved his hand . "He's not my servant, darlin' girl. Just a crazy Chin that came with the bloody Slathers.
The small creature with deep, forest-green eyes and a cascade of golden hair, reached out and touched Erin's hand. It was though a jolt of lightning had struck him; forceful yet pleasant. The Erg-Leath continued. "One should never spurn loyalty, good sir; for it is such a rare flower, and easily withered."
Erin's face darkened. "Loyalty?! The quiffer's tried to kill me twice already."
Still touching Erin's hand, she smiled at Kel as she spoke. "Twice tried and twice failed. He will not try again."
The tall mercenary barked out a laugh and boldly squeezed her tiny hand. "Be you certain of that, little darlin', or is it just a sweet dream you had while all alone in your empty bed?"
This brought forth another round of 'coughing' and 'fidgeting' from both Timin and Granther, while Thorn moaned aloud at the manling's audacity. Narya however, simply disentangled her hand from Erin's and, sipping from her cup, said casually: "Dreams I have indeed had. Many, in fact. And in them all you were there."
