The Legacy of Skur: Volume One

by L. F. Falconer

  Jink was laughing now and the sound warmed me. It was his laugh and only his laugh. “I ended up with all the bloody apples that day,” he said between chuckles. “Your mother gave me the ones she’d paid for when she took me home.”

  “I remember a few days later you brought her a beautiful, silver chalice.”

  Jink nodded. “I made it especially for her. I stole the silver from Rook and I could’ve purchased an entire harvest of apples with the bloody silver that went into that chalice.”

  “My mother liked you, Jink. I remember her telling me that no man should be judged solely by his birthright. That every man deserved the chance to prove his worth.”

  “Your mother was a wise woman. I was so bloody envious of you, Fane. I wanted to be your brother.”

  “You are as near a brother to me as Kael is,” I told him.

  “After I stole the silver to make your mother that chalice, I never stole anything again. It just didn’t feel right anymore. Your mother’s kindness gave me hope. So much more than I ever received from my own mother.”

  I gazed at him silently for several moments. “I thought your mother died in childbirth. How could she have possibly given you any hope?”

  Jink shook his head and flung it back to stare at the sky. “Selma is my mother, Fane. Or at least, she might as well have been. When we came to Avar I was in her care.” He looked back over at me emptily. “I was in her care, and she sold me to Rook when I was just seven years old. She bloody sold me. To her, everything had its price, including me. And she didn’t bloody care what kind of man Rook was. She only cared about money.”

  It was hard to imagine Selma being anyone’s mother, let alone Jink’s. She’d treated him just as she’d treated all the other men. Sure, she paid him a bit more attention, but nothing like a mother should. How little can you know about someone you believe you are close to? I was beginning to think I had never known Jink at all.

  He leaned back, propped himself against a stone, and pulled out his dirk, fingering it and staring as if seeing it for the first time. I watched him closely, on edge. If the henbane worked by eating it, he was capable of doing anything at any time now and I no longer knew just what he was actually capable of. I didn’t want to know how he’d ended up in possession of a severed head.

  “You know,” Jink said, still studying his dirk. “I’m feeling a bit hickey.” He chucked the dirk aside.

  Somewhat relieved, I knelt beside him. Knowing he was falling into the grip of the herb, I could prepare for the ritual I needed to perform. “You might feel that way for a while, but that’s just how the magic works. And once we drive the witch from you, you’ll feel better.”

  “I suppose I must believe you, Sir Wizard.”

  “I suppose you must, and I’ll say no more.”

  Before long, Jink was too stuporous to move. I took my time circling widdershins about him, sprinkling him with my various powders while canting the few words I knew. He showed no visible signs of change, so I would have to wait until the henbane’s effect wore off in order to know if my spell had taken hold at all.

  I used the time to scrounge for something to eat. Over the crest of a small hillock, I came upon a moss-edged tarn and managed to snare several frogs and some watercress from its borders. Then I dunked my head beneath the cool waters and felt somewhat refreshed.

  There was a clear stream flowing in and out of the pool and numerous birches to provide shelter and wood. When Jink was able, I would move him here, for this was a more desirable campsite than the nearly barren ground where he lay over the hill.

  Gathering wood and kindling for a fire, I began to prepare the campsite when a nagging uneasiness crept upon me. Something was wrong. I had to get back to Jink. I’d left him unattended for too long.

  I scrambled to the rise and quickly scanned the scene below. Jink lay peacefully against the stone, just as when I’d left him and Snorts grazed, unconcerned. Everything was quiet, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.

  I hastened down the hillside and shook Jink gently. “Time to move on.”

  His eyes fluttered, his gaze dazed and incomprehensive, securely caught in the henbane’s grip. I didn’t know how much he might be able to comprehend as I pulled him to a sit. “Got to get on your feet now. Time to walk.”

  “No,” he groaned, attempting to push me away.

  “Yes. Time to get up and move.” An unnamed urgency was pressing me.

  “I can’t see,” he moaned. “Everything’s blurry.”

  “That’s all right. I’m here to guide you. Stand up.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Yes you do. Come on. You can do it.”

  I hoicked him to his feet and braced him upright with my arm. The dread was still with me and I looked about, uneasily. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but the feeling persisted. I walked Jink around, trying to help him shake off the herb-induced drunkenness.

  Snorts started to prance and bray and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I knew we were being watched. Pay attention to the sparks. I spun Jink around with me as I turned and we came face-to-face with an enormous black boar—twice as big as a boar should be.

  Bristly hairs glistened in the sunlight; its drippy snout sniffled the air. Black, beady eyes stared with a murderous intent.

  “Waesucks.” I didn’t know if I dared move. There was no way Jink and I could outrun it if it chose to charge.

  The boar continued to eye us, its front hooves pawing gently at the earth. It snortled and grunted, as if daring me to make a move.

  I did dare move—back a step, slowly. Move ever so slowly, I told myself. Don’t provoke the beast.

  “Two younkers,” the boar said and I froze in my tracks. This beast could speak!

  “Two younkers and one stinking witch. But where is the witch? I can smell her, but cannot see her. No, cannot see her at all.” His voice was smooth and refined, a most unlikely voice for such a hideous beast.

  Tusks gleamed in the sunlight and his scent finally reached my nostrils. It was all I could do not to retch, so ungodly a stench it was, reminding me of putrefied innards, days forgotten in the summer sun.

  I gripped Jink tight, fearful of letting him go lest he fall down, but if the beast charged, how could I attempt to fight while supporting him? That was the quandary.

  Jink gave a short gasp, staring hazily at the boar. “It’s the hulg,” he whispered.

  Again, the beast pawed the earth, never taking its eyes off us, nor I, it.

  “Jink, can you stand?” I whispered.

  “I think so.”

  Slowly, I disengaged my hold on him. He wavered slightly, staggered back a few steps, and clumsily drew his sword. That was not good. In his present condition he’d be of little use to me—more a distraction than anything, but I drew my sword as well and faced the beast Jink had called hulg.

  The hulg sniffed the air again. Glair hung in ribbons from his jowls, his rank odor overpowering. I could no longer contain my retch. I bent forward, expelling it.

  The beast’s laughter filled the air before his beady glare tore through me. “You are an ordinary boy.” When his gaze returned to Jink, he chuckled. “But you are a witch in a boy’s body, you are. Do tell, how did you manage that, Larque?”

  Jink stood still as a stone, staying silent.

  “Not going to tell me, aye? What a pity. What a pity.” The hulg put his piggish stare back on me. “Did you know your companion was infected with a witch?”

  I bit my lip and glanced over at Jink, my fingers twitching upon the hilt of my sword. Was I warrior enough to destroy this beast? It was a lucky blow that felled the witch. I didn’t think this consort of Ragg’s would fall so easily.

  “Let me tell you about that witch,” the hulg said as it sat nonchalantly on its haunches. “She’s a wily one, she is. Give you a look that’d make you melt, she does. And I hear tell her touch is irresistible. Aye, completely irresistible. And she spreads her legs for any
thing, she does, be it a boy, a lion, a bogy, or even the maggoty stump of a corpse. But not for the hulg. No, never for the hulg.” His eyes bore down on me. “Did she spread her legs for you, younker? Did you have any idea what’d been in that stinking hole before you?”

  His words sickened me. I did not want to admit, even to myself, how I’d longed to get inside her. Now, listening to this beast, I was thankful it had never happened.

  The boar turned its gaze back to Jink. “And you, poor lad, you must have poked her so much she went right inside you, she did.” He winked at Jink and chuckled. “And I’ll bet now you’ll bend over for anything, won’t you? Yes, oh yes, I’ll bet you do.”

  Jink flushed and raised his sword, taking a wobbly step forward. “No.” His voice was weak and choked.

  “Jink!” I grabbed onto his arm to hold him back. He was in no condition to fight.

  Angrily wresting his arm free, he pulled away. “I don’t need your protection.”

  “Good for you,” the hulg rallied. “You know, witch-boy, there are some younkers who think they know it all, they do. Thinking they have to protect everyone and that they have the right to tell you what to do. Stand up for yourself, witch-boy! Stand up for yourself. Don’t allow this ordinary younker to control your life. You’re better than he is. After all, you’re a witch. You could have this younker for breakfast if it pleased you to do so. Yes, yes you could.”

  Jink’s eyes gleamed.

  “Stop it,” I shouted at the beast. He was pulling Larque out. Giving her strength. Undermining the power of the magic Jink was under.

  “You see,” the hulg said a bit smugly. “You see how it upsets him when his manipulations are revealed. Oh yes, he is afraid of you, witch-boy. He is. Afraid to let you realize your full potential. Make you think you’re less than what you are. Make you think he’s better than you.”

  Jink glared over at me.

  “You can’t really believe what this beast is saying?” I countered. “Can’t you see what he’s doing?”

  “Ma—nip—u—la—tion,” sang the hulg.

  “You are the only one manipulating here.” I pointed my sword at the hulg, beginning a slow panic. I looked back to Jink. “Can’t you see what this beast is trying to do? He’s trying to destroy the magic’s power. And if you listen, he’ll succeed.”

  “Wrong, boyo,” the hulg bellowed. “I’m trying to set you free. It’s this younker here who’s trying to destroy you, he is.”

  Jink moaned and collapsed to the ground. Swiftly, I knelt beside him and grasped his arm. “Are you all right?” From the corner of my eye I saw movement and spun around. The beast was charging, deadly tusks coming at me, as if he’d been awaiting this very opportunity. Oh yes. Manipulation. It never pays to trust a swine.

  I shoved Jink aside and swung my sword at the beast. I thoroughly missed and a tusk gouged my thigh and ripped through my trousers into the flesh beneath, the blow knocking me to the dirt.

  I quickly rolled upright, by back wedged against Jink, and clutched at the burning gash in my leg.

  The hulg wheeled around to face us. “You must realize I mean to eat you both. Yes, yes I do.” His eyes twinkled. “But the question is, which one do I eat first? If I eat the witch first, then I’ll have an ordinary boy for dessert. But if I eat the boy first, I might not have enough appetite left to enjoy the taste of my sweet Larque. What a dilemma. What a dreadful dilemma. Oh yes, yes it is.”

  The boar sauntered back and forth, eyeing us. Apparently I’d already conceded the battle for I momentarily wondered what his choice would be.

  I whispered to Jink. “Are you able to fight?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m bloody dizzy. Sometimes I see two of him instead of one. Did he hurt you badly?”

  “It’s not serious.” What a lie! My damned leg felt like it was on fire.

  “Might I suggest a simultaneous direct assault,” the hulg said. “With that, one of you might get lucky, you might. Yes, yes you might.”

  There was merit in that suggestion, but not enough to drive me to action. My leg throbbed, my hand sticky and red with blood from holding the wound. Jink and I were both somewhat incapacitated and the hulg was fine and strong. Jink and I might be able to inflict some damage, but could we dare hope to beat him? Besides, if the hulg suggested a direct attack, it was probably best we do something different, for that’s what he wanted us to do. Or was it? What was it Kael had told me? Force your enemy to—

  Jink was up, roaring as he raced toward the hulg. I fell backwards and quickly pulled myself back upright, realizing I had no choice but to join Jink’s spontaneous assault unless I simply wanted to watch him die.

  I scrambled to my feet and rushed forward.

  Jink deftly side-stepped the hulg’s charge, avoiding a brutal jab of the boar’s tusk. Swinging his blade around, it sliced the beast’s haunches.

  Thrusting my own blade forth, I jabbed the boar’s nose. The hulg squealed and spun about. Blood spurted from his nose. His eyes locked onto me. He charged again.

  I limped backwards and Jink again rushed the charging boar. The boar shifted his charge away from me and toward Jink. Jink leapt into the air. When his feet hit the ground, his sword sank deep between the hulg’s shoulders. At that moment, I lunged and shoved my blade into the boar’s chest.

  The hulg collapsed to the ground, squealing and wheezing. With a lunatic shriek, Jink plunged his sword deep into the hulg’s neck and through the beast’s death squeals, Jink ripped and tore at the thick flesh until the hulg was silenced and its head rolled free. That act was probably much more difficult with the hulg than it had been with a redheaded dell, and I suddenly hated myself for thinking such a thought about my friend, for I did not know for certain it had been he who had done that wicked deed.

  I collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, clasping the agony of my torn thigh. Jink flashed a bawdy grin. His sapphire eyes gleamed when he hoisted the hulg’s severed head high into the air and performed a triumphant gallopade while the beast’s putrid blood drenched him like red rain.

  He tossed the head toward me, his arm completely soaked with blood and he stared at the arm in amazement, flexing his muscles. “I do like this,” he said, giving that same bawdy grin. “This strength. This power.” He continued to work the arm, then began to lick the arm clean of the blood.

  “No,” I groaned in complete dismay. “Go away.”

  Jink stooped beside the hulg’s discarded head. He sliced off a chunk of greasy, foul-smelling meat and crammed it into his mouth. “Sweet meat,” he said, smacking his lips before offering a portion to me.

  I shook my head, my belly aching to revolt again.

  Returning to the hulg’s carcass, Jink sliced it wide open, then discarded his armor and clothing to climb inside the hulk. Amid some definite feminine hysterical laughter, he began smearing his body with blood and sucking entrails into his mouth.

  I could watch no more, unable to feel any triumph over the hulg’s demise as the witch rubbed my defeat all over Jink’s body. I dragged myself to my feet, grabbed Snorts’ leader and limped up the rise, making my way back to the camp at the tarn, feeling hollow and cold. I cleansed and dressed my wound, built a fire, and though I now suffered complete inappetence, forced the frogs I’d caught earlier down my throat, wondering how I could possibly save my friend.

  In the morning, I returned to the scene of the kill. The beast’s stench was even more nauseous than when he’d been alive. Beside the half-eaten carcass, Jink lay all unrigged on the ground, crusted with gore and bits of cagmagg, his belly fat and bloated.

  I kicked him rather sharply in the ribs, trying to rouse him.

  His eyes fluttered partially open. He smiled and mumbled, “The most delicious meal I’ve ever eaten.”

  “You’re a bloody mess.” I tried to control my disgust. “Get up and go bathe.”

  His eyes opened fully. “Fane?” He seemed surprised. Leaning upon one elbow, he shook his
head, then caught sight of himself. “Waesucks, Fane, what happened?”

  “It wasn’t you. There’s a pond over the hill.” I pointed. “Now go bathe. You stink.”

  How I hated Larque and the perdition she spelled for him. How much longer could I watch her destroy him?

  He hastened up the hill and stopped halfway to heave. I gathered his sword and rigging, but his dirk was nowhere to be found. The putrefaction in the air drove me up the hillock without it.

  At the tarn, Jink washed and retched and washed some more, scouring himself with sand and mud, scraping the skin red and raw. He then rinsed his clothes and retched again.

  How could Larque have eaten that vile beast, channeling that nasty meat and blood down Jink’s throat, infecting his body? Could I have stopped her? I simply did not know how to fight against her and my anger burned hot in my belly.

  Jink straggled over to me, dripping wet, but clean again. He looked wretched, his face puffy and white, eyes dim, haunted.

  I snatched the talisman from my neck and flung it at him. “Put it on.” I had nothing left to offer and was desperate to save him from her insanities.

  He picked up the crystal and tried to return it. It glowed softly in his hand. “This … this is yours, Fane. You must wear it.”

  “You need it more than I do. That amulet has a power over evil that even Larque does not suspect.” Silently, I hoped my words were true as Jink reluctantly pulled the chain over his wet head.

  I had hoped for an instant banishment, but such was not to be. I was soon to learn it would take more than a magical stone to expel the demon that dwelt inside my friend.

  7

  Seret

  Beneath a poultice of willow leaves and mud, my leg throbbed with a burning ache where the hulg’s tusk had torn it, but I gritted my teeth and slogged on. Jink and I continued our upward trek, though more and more often it was no longer Jink who accompanied me.

  Larque would push forth unexpectedly, catching me unaware. She was testing her strength, picking up stones to see how far Jink’s arm could throw them, or racing up hillocks to see how fast his legs would carry her, and she’d shriek with delight at these various feats.