by Phil Parker
‘It’s all right Chief. I’m used to dealing with this arrogant bastard.’ Purdey turned his one eye on me and applied the same level of hatred as the old woman. His two henchmen arrived at his side, just as they had outside the cottage. I felt my anger boil.
‘You left the party early Purdey. You didn’t see what happened to the last lot of people who made me fucking angry. Such as that religious maniac who you left us with, the one who tried to burn us alive. He had great fun riding the wyvern, we left his flock picking up bits of him.’
Expressions of fear mixed with hostility spread around the crowd like a virus.
Purdey flexed his shoulders and took a deep breath, his ruin of a face was set into determined rebellion. When he spoke it was loud enough for everyone to hear.
‘There are two of you and that creature. I’m betting we could all teach you a lesson.’
I snorted my contempt loud enough for everyone to hear. I’d come across men like him before, ones with military training who assumed they commanded the respect and cooperation needed for others to carry out their orders. Often they fooled themselves. But not always.
‘True. I wonder how many of your friends are willing to die to win that bet?’
A quick glance around the assembled wretches and refugees suggested little enthusiasm, they might not like me but life was a daily battle, it made no sense to go searching for death.
‘Especially when I’m here to collect the two kids who might end this war with the fairies.’
That turned the tide. Dozens of pairs of eyes turned to Purdey and he knew it.
‘You’re not still telling that tale are you?’
‘You see, Purdey, if you weren’t so eager to make money by selling them as slaves, you’d have realised by their special skills they’re not normal kids. They’re built to fight the fairies. You know that, don’t you? You saw the girl kill the fairies that butchered the Taunton Gang on Hamdon Hill.’
That brought a loud gasp from the assembled populace.
‘But you’ve put your greed ahead of your desire to help your own race.’
Hostility shifted. Now the crowd glared at Purdey and mumbled their discontent.
‘I didn’t. I just wanted…’
The woman at his side turned to him. ‘You didn’t tell me about this.’
I let my voice dominate the dissention.
‘I want those kids now. We’ve got an appointment in Glastonbury to defeat the fairy king and we haven’t got time to waste.’
Before anyone said another word I got off my horse, signalled to Oisin to stay with the wyvern, and walked towards the narrow gap where Purdey had come from. The crowd parted without a word. I didn’t trust these people as I walked the gamut of hard stares, through the mass of stinking humanity.
There were metal cages against the wall of the derelict church. These weren’t prisons with beds or chairs or even a basin for a toilet. They were animal cages just big enough to accommodate a human being; they showed the value these people placed on human life. Slavery was a common feature of life in this land now and it angered me that humans should have returned to the same immoral society as the one where I’d grown up.
The twins were in two of the cages. I looked at the denizens around me as their eyes waited for my reaction. They expected me to erupt, do something irrational and perhaps overextend myself and so become vulnerable. I took a breath and tried to rein in the fury that threatened to consume me.
As I got closer I saw thick ropes binding Finn by his ankles and wrists to the cage. The few clothes he wore were covered in muck and blood. The milk white skin on his back had fresh whip marks across it.
Brea knelt on all fours, like a dog with a collar around her neck. Her hands were buried in the mud, manacles around her wrist held her hands in place. She wore few clothes, her shirt barely covered her bare backside. Her face was a mass of bruises and her bottom lip was badly swollen.
These were kids I’d made a solemn vow to their father to protect and I’d failed, failed beyond all belief. The erupting anger that rose in me wasn’t only directed at the men running towards me now. I was to blame but I’d deal with that issue later. The men following me must have sensed my fury and chose to pre-empt my reaction, so they attacked. Wrong choice. The self-control I’d hoped to preserve snapped. Veins in my head throbbed, my heart beat a loud tattoo in my chest and the world turned red as fury overwhelmed me and the need to shed blood became an obsession.
An obsession Puck happily obliged. When he arrives I remember little, just a few images. They are always indelibly etched into my memory.
Joe Purdey raising a sword against me, my own blade slicing across his ruin of a face, bearing bones and the grey matter in his head to the world. Yanking my blade out to deal with his burly sergeant major lunging at me with an axe, easily swatting it aside and slicing off his arm in the process, his friend raising a gun to take aim and me scything off his hand and a leg. Another man, also badly scarred, wielding another sword, letting it sweep downward to slice through his leg, dropping him to the ground, stamping on his chest and shattering ribs in the process. Another man, huge and hairy, rushing me with a fiery branch taken from an oil cylinder, opening up his belly as he twists to swing it at me. A younger man, eyes wild with lunacy, rushing at me with a long metal pole as though it’s a lance. Stepping aside, lopping off his head as he draws level. Others watching me with the wariness of cowardice, unwilling to attack because they understand the inevitable outcome.
I’m left with a terrible weakness seeping through my body, like every drop of blood has being drained, it announces the return of Puck to his dark dungeon.
It was always this way, for as long as I wish I couldn’t remember.
It’s like waking from a nightmare.
Joe Purdey’s body lay hunched at my feet, his head split in two. There was carnage everywhere, bodies with blood pooled around them and my sword daubed with gore. Men screamed, writhed in agony and howled for help or death. They got the latter when those around them got sick of the noise.
If the local population had been scared of the red-scaled wyvern at the entrance, they looked even more fearful of the red-spattered monster in front of them now, Puck certainly knew how to get respect. When I gave the command for the twins to be freed there was a free-for-all to oblige. The leader continued to watch me.
‘They were like this when they arrived,’ she said. There was no apology, no regret just the assertion that they couldn’t be blamed and suffer a similar fate. I didn’t care.
The twins stumbled towards me, holding each other like children left to face abject terror, with only each other for comfort. They said nothing but looked at me with a mixture of relief, exhaustion and horror on their faces. I had no idea what to say, everything sounded trite so I let silence speak for me.
Finn gestured with a shaking hand behind him.
‘There’s another one.’ His voice a dry croak.
Along the wall were more cages, all of them empty save for one. I walked towards it, found an equally pathetic creature, a young man, completely naked, with skin the colour of chocolate. His eyes were also filled with terror and his injuries explained why. The last thing I needed was another responsibility but I couldn’t leave the lad. The darkness of his skin labelled him a victim, someone different who, like me, humanity held responsible for their current mess.
‘Let him out,’ I called.
‘Wait!’ the woman said, holding up her wooden pole in some sort of gesture of authority. ‘He isn’t yours! He belongs to us!’
I was in front of her in a second, knocked her pole away so she lost her balance and only remained standing because those around her held her upright.
‘He isn’t yours. He isn’t something to be owned. He’s a human being. A fucking human being.’
Despite my weakness rage bubbled up and threatened to explode again. I think my impending rage was visible on my face because the old woman and the whole crowd froze.
/>
‘You’re as bad as the Fae! If they conquer you, they’ll make slaves of you all. They’ll treat you as commodities, to be bought and sold. You need to be better than that. If you lose your humanity they will defeat you, then this life will be paradise in comparison.’
I stood in their midst, my tempest exhausted by the look of incomprehension on their stupid faces.
‘Take him!’ the woman spat. ‘And leave us.’
I glared at her. ‘You’ll clean them up and give them clothes to wear or so help me, I will wreak havoc on this place, without the help of that fucking dragon!’
They obliged.
I waited, sword at the ready in case they needed extra motivation. A little while later, washed clean of muck, wearing clothes that were covered in it, the three returned. They each looked around at the stern and resentful faces as though there was a risk their good fortune might come to an abrupt and brutal end. We walked the length of the fort with me like a drum major in a marching band with my sword held aloft as a threat.
The moment we arrived at the entrance to the fort the dark-skinned lad let out a squeal of surprise, looked abashed at his behaviour and slammed both hands over his mouth as though he regretted his action. At which point all hell broke loose.
The wyvern went berserk.
At least that’s what the mob thought was happening. They ran screaming for safety.
I had no option but to dive out of its way and hoped the others would do the same but the lad stood his ground. I was vaguely aware of a grin on his face as I watched from my position on the muddy ground as the animal thundered to greet the lad. I thought it was about to kill him as it placed its crested head against his body, vivid memories of how it used the position to disembowel the Questing Beast came to mind. Except now it did it with such delicacy and care.
The young man stroked its head, spoke softly to the animal, its reply sounded like a purr from deep in its chest. They stayed like that, like lovers, for several moments. The locals gradually gained the courage to step out from the places of safety to marvel at the sight.
‘We need to leave,’ I said with as much authority as I could muster, though if the wyvern wanted to disobey, I knew I couldn’t do anything about it.
The young man said something to the animal and it walked alongside him as he passed through the gate, beyond the shanty town and into the field beyond. The rest of us followed, astonished by their partnership. Oisin treated the animal like a pet but this was something else and he watched the two of them with poorly-concealed resentment.
We took shelter in a copse of beech trees, far enough away from the settlement and hidden from view. Small flakes of snow began to fall. The twins huddled together, they were a pathetic portrait of exhaustion with their normally pale skin now a sickly pallor, their jade-green eyes surrounded by black circles. I needed to find a place where they could recover.
When I said as much they looked at me empty of expression, drained of any emotion or reaction. They still hadn’t spoken.
Oisin beckoned me over, we moved to the edge of the copse and pretended to watch the wyvern and the young man display their affection for one another.
‘Perhaps we should go back to that farm in Langport, give these kids chance to recover. They’re useless to us at the moment,’ I whispered.
Oisin shook his head, placed a hand on my arm, looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read.
‘I found out there is a portal here, though they don’t know it as anything other than an ancient artefact. There’s no sign of any spriggans either.’
‘Where?’
‘It’s not in the settlement. It’s in the hill itself, in a small cave.’
I frowned. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
Oisin nodded his head towards the twins, their heads resting against each other, eyes closed, holding hands.
‘You’re right, they need somewhere to recover. But they’re too exhausted and traumatised to travel.’
‘What are you suggesting?’
He looked at me, reading my expression carefully, weighing up what to say.
‘This place is so small, so insignificant, I don’t think anyone knows about it. We might be able to use the portal to return to Glastonbury.’
He kept watching me as I processed the idea. It was risky and he knew it. He also knew if anything went wrong, I’d blame him. We could meet Llyr and his army who might be travelling in the opposite direction. But Oisin knew I had to accept our limitations, the twins couldn’t travel. If we met any more opposition they’d be no use defending us, I needed to get them somewhere safe where they could rest. Plus, in Glastonbury we’d have help.
‘If we travelled through the portal to the Tor, we’d be near to Amelie’s cottage.’
It was Oisin’s turn to nod. He jerked a thumb at the young man.
‘What about him?’
I sighed. He was an enigma but Oisin summed it up better than me.
‘He can’t be human, not to have such an affinity with the wyvern.’
He didn’t give the animal its name I noticed.
‘Yeah. I’d reached that conclusion too. There’s something about him, his skin colour particularly, that is nudging my memory. Let me talk to him.’
Oisin held my arm again.
‘You know Llyr could have sent him here, as a spy.’
I nodded and ambled over to where the lad sat on a tree stump and stroked the wyvern that lay curled at his feet now.
‘You’ve got quite a friend there, haven’t you?’
I sat next to him. He turned his head and smiled shyly. I noticed how he glanced at me for a second too long, as though expecting me to do something.
‘You don’t recognise me, do you Mister Goodfellow?’
I smiled a knowing smile, as though I’d been about to declare his identity, while hiding my surprise at the lad using my real name.
‘Of course I do.’ I whispered softly. ‘I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others.’
He grinned then grimaced as he rubbed the dark bruise on his cheek. The kid had clearly suffered, if he was a spy he was a very frightened one. The more I looked at him now, the more my memory itched at a vague recollection.
‘No, you don’t. Why should you. It was a long time ago and I’m a nobody.’
I pointed at the wyvern. ‘She doesn’t think that.’
‘No.’ He stroked the top of the animal’s head, fingers lightly caressing the red crest. ‘She’s the only one though. They are tremendous loyal animals, Mister Goodfellow, I had to return that loyalty. It’s why I came looking for her.’
This young man was certainly an enigma. I looked closely at the curtains of black hair dangling over his face that he kept brushing out of the way, at the intense black eyes and the fine bone structure of his face. He knew I was looking at him and kept smiling as I tried to place him.
‘Still can’t place me?’
I shook my head.
He sighed heavily. ‘Let me help. Imagine my voice belongs to the High Lord.’ He took a breath and curled his lip and spoke with the same oily derision. ‘Shit stain!’
And recollection dawned. The young man, eyes saddened by the slur, smiled but there was huge sadness behind it.
‘You’re a kitchen slave aren’t you. Kai? Kane?’
‘Keir sir.’
‘Keir!’ I remembered the occasions when Llyr’s spoilt-brat behaviour used to embarrass me when I was climbing the social ladder of the Dark Court and wasn’t prepared to challenge his moronic conduct. The lad had suffered terribly.
Another mind worm suddenly began to burrow deep in my memory. I stared at the lad and saw in those eyes something else. I knew then that I wasn’t dealing with a spy.
‘Tell me Keir, is Master Sidwell still running the palace single-handedly?’
The lad nodded and smiled. ‘Yes sir. He helped prepare me to visit this realm.’
‘He still keeps watch over you does he?’
Another nod. ‘I let him down badly a little while ago.’ He patted the wyvern absently. ‘I kept her secret for a time and it meant lying to people, including Master Sidwell.’
The lad fiddled with a ring on this finger nervously. He noticed me looking and immediately stopped it.
‘But he’s forgiven you no doubt?’ I said.
A hesitant nod this time, there was tension there suddenly.
‘What? I can’t imagine Master Sidwell doing anything cruel to you.’
The lad turned and looked at me, there was uncertainty in his eyes suddenly but it passed.
‘Yes, mostly. We found out we had… more important things to talk about.’
‘And you came here to look for your wyvern. A servant. Who wouldn’t be allowed to leave the palace without permission, never mind travel through the forbidden portals. I think it’s about time you were completely honest with me Keir.’
He went back to fidgeting with his ring, even when I continued to watch him. I gave the lad my best reassuring smile.
‘It’s because, if I return with Cochrann, my wyvern, I can be a dragon trainer.’
‘I see, that sounds exciting.’
He’d lost some of his nervousness, the lad wasn’t lying. It told me what I needed to know. I smiled at him again. This young man didn’t know what he was. Master Sidwell did, it was why he’d watched over him. There was also that ring on his finger.
For the first time since Llyr had attacked my home, I began to see a way in which I might solve a lot of people’s problems, including mine. I ruffled the guy’s hair affectionately and he looked at me, baffled.
Chapter 19
Master Goodfellow frightened me.
I was in awe of him as well, perhaps that was the same thing. I’ve watched lots of fights in the lists during Lughnasa celebrations but never anything like the way he killed all those men. His sword was a blur and he moved like water, every action flowed into the next so you couldn’t tell in advance what he was going to do. It was like a dance, a bloody and violent dance. What scared me most was his face, it was without any expression, it was completely blank. Everyone has some kind of expression on their face, to see someone without any emotion at all, I think that’s what frightened me most, that he could kill and not be affected by it.
