by GJ Kelly
It was early evening by the time he had prepared the cottage to be left unoccupied. Several holes in the rush roof had to be repaired and two of the heavy wooden shutters were loose on their hinges. He hadn’t planned on spending the day working on the cottage, but if he wanted a home to come back to the work had to be done. Drake proved very useful, reaching easily up to re-thatch the holes in the roof whereas Garin would have had to climb up to reach.
“Should I go and catch some supper?” Drake rumbled and picked up the bow that he had placed next to the elf-tree staff.
“There’s no wild game around here.” Garin sank into the rocker wondering if the round of cheese and the dried meats he could offer would be enough for the warrior. The broth earlier had disappeared like magic down the youth’s throat. “The villagers have long since caught all the wild animals for nearly a day’s walk from here.”
A gentle knock at the door interrupted them and Garin hurried over to answer it. It was Taya and she carried both a small loose-woven sack and a bundle under her other arm.
“Wizard Garin,” she said respectfully. “Payment for your services.”
Garin took the sack, noting that it was indeed very heavy and much more than the usual payment for the services of a wizard. The distinctive odour of fish reached his nose and he was relieved that supper for his visitor would now be sufficient. She handed over the smaller bundle and Garin was careful not to squash what was obviously fresh bread.
Taya looked up and seeing the hulk of Drake hovering a few feet behind Garin, she cast a querying look at him.
“Taya, may I present Rydan Drake, of…” He looked back at the young warrior.
“Jarak,” Drake supplied.
“He is travelling to Castle Kinlock as well,” Garin added.
“Then you’ve no need of me?” Taya stated, misunderstanding the reason for the warrior’s presence.
“You’re welcome to join us, if your father has given permission. It would be far safer than travelling alone.” Garin spoke in a rush, not wanting her to think that she was not welcome.
“I need no protection on the road to Kinlock,” Taya said a little defensively. “And obviously, now that you have hired a warrior, neither do you.”
Him, need protection on the road! Had she only considered travelling with him to protect him? It was almost an insult to his new status as wizard.
“We’d be honoured if you’d join us, Miss.” Drake stepped forward, his massive size filling most of the doorway and he bowed low as he spoke. “Company on a long journey makes it pass quicker.”
“My father has given permission for me to travel with the wizard; indeed he seemed quite keen for me to go with you, but a warrior is another matter entirely.” Taya stepped back from the doorway and went to turn away. “If my father permits, I will be here at dawn.”
“I do not need to ask what is in the sack,” Drake said sourly as Garin closed the door on the retreating figure of the young lass.
The huge warrior was pinching his nose and had not the events of the past day almost drained his spirits Garin would have laughed at the picture he created. It did, however, present another problem if he didn’t like fish. But if there was one thing Garin could do, and do well, it was cook fish. He knew more than a dozen different ways to prepare it so that even when fish was the only food for months on end it didn’t become monotonous. So, much to the warrior’s own surprise, Drake ate the fish and most of the leftover portion that Garin had intended to take with them tomorrow.
“I don’t know how you managed to change that fish into such an edible meal, but for a wizard I guess it’s all part of the job. At least we’ll eat well along the journey if you can transform food like that.” Drake was leaning back against the main support pole in the middle of the cottage and it was creaking alarmingly.
“It was just a few herbs and spices,” Garin protested, hoping he wasn’t going to be expected to conjure up a banquet from acorns and berries each night. The great warrior did not comment though and a loud snore told that he had fallen asleep where he sat.
oOo
-3-
Garin woke moments before dawn, as he had done most of his life, but he felt more tired than usual. He slept lightly, another habit from his early years living on the streets of the city of Scaret. His life had been very different back then. By the time he had reached his tenth summer he was an accomplished pickpocket and skilled in the art of street fighting. He needed no weapons to win against the tallest and heaviest of the older lads who tried to take his food from him. In fact, he found the training with a short sword that Eyan had insisted on to be tedious and unnecessary. There were more ways to disarm a man than with a piece of steel. Eyan had come across him in the back alley of the apothecary store when he was almost eleven summers old. Garin didn’t know why but he felt drawn to the old shop full of herbs and essences and spent hours with his nose pressed against the glass window, watching the apothecary dispense his wares.
Garin had taken some convincing that he was worth training as a wizard and even now, five years later, he still had nagging doubts that he was worthy of it.
He sat up and looking quickly around the cottage he saw that Drake was gone. He did not need a light as his night vision was good but he leaned over and lit a lamp through habit, for the failing eyes of his master. A scraping sound came clearly through the many cracks and gaps in the ancient cottage walls. It was a steady rhythmic sound like metal against metal that drew Garin towards the door. The huge warrior’s crossbow still rested next to the elf-tree staff and Garin frowned as he turned away from it to open the door. How would he carry the staff without everyone knowing he was unworthy? Yesterday he had searched the cottage for a pair of leather gloves he had once seen but had not found them.
The birds were beginning to twitter in the first rays of daylight and clearly they did not regard the scraping sound as a threat. An owl hooted suddenly from its perch in a tree, startling Garin for a second, and then took flight over the roof of the cottage, its white, soft feathers making no noise as it glided out of sight.
Garin pulled his robes a little tighter around him as he walked up the short path towards the noise. He would need Eyan’s cloak on their journey if he didn’t want to freeze. Light had just touched the edges of the sky as he came across the source of the strange noise. The huge figure of Drake was stooped over, one knee resting on a rock, as he ran a smooth stone up and down the length of the blade of his huge sword.
“Didn’t mean to wake you wizard,” Drake said, seeing Garin arrive in the small clearing near the woodpile. He didn’t pause in his rhythmic movements and Garin watched in silence as he finished sharpening his blade.
“Do you think we’re likely to come across trouble?” Garin couldn’t help but ask. The sun was still hidden behind the trees but the broad blade seemed to draw the light towards it, flashing almost painfully at Garin’s eyes.
“What sort of trouble could we come up against that a wizard couldn’t deal with? I know I’m really not needed and my blade will probably go rusty through lack of use by the time we reach Castle Kinlock, but my ‘Pa would switch me for having a dull blade, even though I’m of age.” The warrior tested his blade on a small bush and Garin gulped as it sliced through it as easily as if it were soft cheese.
The thought of Drake being afraid of his ‘Pa, or any man for that matter, almost made Garin laugh. How big would someone have to be to cause Drake to be afraid?
“You ready to leave?” Drake asked as he slid his sword into its sheath. “Any sign of the young lass?”
“Yes… and no…” Garin stopped trying to picture Drake’s father and quickly followed him down the path.
“We can wait a short while, but we should be on the road soon if we want to make it to Scaret by nightfall.” Drake leaned in the door and picked up his bow and then used one end to point at the elf-tree staff. “Don’t forget the twig, will you.”
Garin stared into the gloomy cottage and the
elf-tree staff seemed to glare straight back at him, taunting him and daring him to try and pick it up again. How was he going to carry it without gloves? He couldn’t leave it behind, and he had to find a way to carry it, quickly.
He went inside to check the fire had died down and then brushed the ashes from the grate. He couldn’t risk a rogue gust rushing down the chimney and flaring it back into life when there was nobody here. He dumped the ashes out the back of the cottage onto a small heap of blackened soot. Dawn had arrived and he went back into the cottage one last time. Drake stood patiently waiting several feet down the path and made no attempt to hurry him. Garin picked up his master’s cloak and slipped his arms in. It was long, too long and the hem dragged on the floor. It would be worn and tattered by the time they reached Castle Kinlock if he left it like that. He picked up the hem and, using the small dagger that lay on the bench, he made a cut in the edge of the black fabric. He slipped the dagger into the cloak’s inside pocket and then ripped a full five inches off the bottom of it.
“Wizard.” Drake’s voice carried easily in the stillness of dawn. “The sun will not wait for us.”
“I’m coming,” Garin called back, staring at the length of cloth and suddenly had an idea. He hurried over to the door and stopped in front of the elf-tree staff. Being very careful not to touch the wood, he wrapped the black cloth around it at his hand height and then tied a small knot to hold it firmly in place. Gingerly he reached out his hand and held it a hair’s distance from the black cloth. He felt no coldness and, steeling himself, he gripped it firmly. The cloth prevented his skin from touching the magical wood and he almost grinned as he lifted it without the numbing coldness he had felt yesterday.
“Are you two going to be leaving today or not?” A voice called from down the path and both of them looked to see Taya waiting impatiently. “I’ve been waiting at the top of the path. I thought you would have left by now and expected to meet you there.”
Garin shrugged his small backpack over his shoulders and hurried after the warrior who was already striding quickly along the path.
“How is your grandfather?” Garin asked.
“He had a bad night,” Taya replied as she kept up the swift pace effortlessly. She had dressed in travelling leathers that must have belonged to her father many years ago. They were a faded pale brown with more than a few patches but she wore them with pride and no self-consciousness even though they were rolled up at the cuffs.
“Did the lamp oil not help?” Garin asked with concern. If her grandfather was that bad it would be unlikely he would last the winter.
“It eased his breathing… a little,” Taya sounded hesitant about admitting that the oil hadn’t helped her grandfather as much as it used to.
They reached the peak of the path where Garin had looked down on the town the previous day. It was only then that he remembered the bright purple feather. It was still tucked into his pack and again he wondered what type of bird had dropped it. He looked quickly around but saw no others and dismissed it from his mind, for now.
The path forked up ahead, the left one leading off to the west, directly towards the great west road and the other leading north-west towards Scaret. Both Garin and the warrior turned north-west and Taya stopped at the fork, a puzzled and annoyed look on her face.
“It is safer to make the walls of a city or village by nightfall,” Drake said as he and Garin paused to look back at her.
“But the west road will cut almost a full day off the trip,” Taya argued, looking set to demand her way. It was a side of Taya that Garin had never seen before. She had barely raised her eyes near him before yesterday and now she was raising her voice and glaring angrily at him. “Besides a wizard is all the protection we need, isn’t it?”
It was said with an underlying hint of taunting that bordered on sarcasm and Drake looked shocked by her belittlement of the wizard. Garin said nothing and tried to prevent the blush that was creeping up past the collar of his black cloak.
“Miss,” Drake stepped forward, his menacing size overshadowing Taya, but she did not back away. “Now see here, I can’t have you talk that way to the Wizard of Portsan. You’re lucky he hasn’t struck you down for your insolence.”
“If he could,” Taya muttered, not quite soft enough to keep her comment to herself. “I go by the west road. If you two don’t wish to join me then that is your choice.”
With that she turned her back to them both and stepped off onto the west track leaving them to stare after her in surprise and shock.
“She certainly deserves that flame-red hair,” Drake mused as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Do you think we should go after her? A warrior doesn’t like to think of a lass on her own on the road.”
Garin would have liked to say that she could look after herself and to leave her to travel on her own. In just one short day he had seen her character change completely and he didn’t like the new Taya one bit.
“This road will mean sleeping under the stars…” Garin called after her. Taya didn't so much as break stride, let alone look back.
Drake canted his crossbow over his shoulder and looked down at Garin expectantly. Garin sighed, knowing that he had responsibilities now. They could take the track to Scaret and leave Taya to make the journey on her own. But if anything happened to her the entire village would hold him to blame…
Wordlessly, Garin turned and, with a final lingering look at the Scaret road, stepped onto the west track, following Taya, with Drake a step or two behind.
“You know,” Drake said softly, “By my reckoning, it'd go a lot easier with us if you turned her into a frog, stuffed her into yer backpack and carried her all the way to Kinlock like that.”
“I agree,” Garin replied miserably, stepping out to try and catch up with her. Pity I can't, he thought to himself.
By the time they caught up with Taya it was clear that she felt she had no need of companions on her journey and she kept her gaze straight ahead. Garin fell into step a pace to her left and behind, and Drake another behind him, and for a few minutes there was an uneasy silence.
Then Drake began whistling a merry little tune, quietly at first and then louder as his normal jovial spirits blossomed with the day. Garin felt his mood lifting and turned to smile at the massive warrior. Drake winked cheerfully.
“Do you have to make that noise?” Taya snapped petulantly. “Every bandit and sneakthief for miles around surely knows we're here now!”
“Good!” Drake grinned, “Bring 'em on, the more the merrier! I just hope Wizard Garin leaves a few fer me and Felgardin,” and he went back to his merry whistling.
“Who's Felgardin?” Garin asked, frowning.
“Not who, what?” Drake grinned, reaching his hand over his own shoulder to tap the pommel of his broadsword.
“Your sword has a name?”
“Of course!” the warrior boomed. “Doesn't everyone’s?”
“I wouldn't know,” Garin confessed.
“Why call it Felgardin?” Taya asked, still frowning petulantly but obviously interested in Drake's answer.
“Ah! It's an elf-word, is Felgardin. It means Banisher of the Dark.”
“You mean 'light' then,” Taya muttered.
“Nope, missy. The elves themselves named it the day they made it. It’s been in my family for generations and when I was declared a man, it came to me,” Rydan Drake replied then started whistling cheerfully again.
“Your story is like you, warrior, full of air and noise. There haven't been elves in the land since long before Othel's time,” Taya declared.
Garin was outraged by her rudeness to their companion, but strangely Drake didn’t seem to notice and kept whistling happily. But Garin couldn't hold his peace.
“Just as there are no bandits or sneakthieves within a dozen leagues of Portsan! A fine ambassador for our village you are, Taya Tomas,” Garin snapped angrily. “Insults seem to come easily to you this morning. And you're wrong. 'Felgardin' in the elven to
ngue means 'darkslayer' and there are still elves in the land!”
Taya snorted, and stepped out, lengthening her stride and not slowing until she was at least twenty paces ahead of them.
“My grandfather,” said Drake, quietly, “used to tell me when I was a boy, 'Rydan Drake, whatever you do in this life, don't go upsetting a wizard or a woman. The one will turn you into a frog, the other will do much worse’. It's good advice, I reckon.”
“She had no right to speak to you like that.”
“Been called worse, water off a duck's back to me. Why are you so angry? My grandfather always said ‘Anger's not good anytime’, especially not on a day like today. I reckon this'll be the last we'll see of sunny mornings for some time to come.”
Garin took a deep breath and let it out slowly as his anger seemed suddenly to fade. It was hard to stay angry with the young warrior grinning down at him. And Drake was right, with winter well on the way this glorious morning might well be the last of the sun for some months.
“Is that right, though, what you said about my sword?”
Garin frowned. He didn't know how he knew the precise meaning of the name 'Felgardin', nor did he know how he knew that elves yet lived, when everyone else believed that the last of their race was slain by the dark armies so long ago. But he knew, somehow, and he knew it to be true. “Yes.”
“Well, I'll be! And all these years we’ve been telling folk the name means 'Banisher of the Dark'. Well, by Cordak…'Darkslayer', eh? I like that! I like that much better! See, you learn something new every day!”
“That's true,” Garin mumbled and nodded towards Taya, “I've learned that she's not at all the person I thought she was.”
