Legends of the Brethren: The Sampler

by Susan Skylark

Art Critics

  “Go fetch the healer boy,” said the old woman as she came back into the main room of the little cottage, “your master will live but he still needs her attention.”

  The boy nodded dutifully and dashed from the house after receiving directions from the woman. He was soon in the saddle and galloping off to fetch the local herb dealer. Jorum was not long in reaching the house to which the old woman had directed him but there seemed to be no one about. Cautiously he approached the cottage whose door was slightly ajar and catching a glimpse of movement through a window.

  “Hello?” called the boy. There was a sound of surprise and running feet, Jorum ran to the back of the house and caught the fugitive as it darted out the backdoor. “You are not the healer,” said he with a grin.

  His captive, a boy about his own age but much thinner and not quite so tall, struggled to free himself and growled, “no I ain’t so you had best be letting me go about my own business.”

  Jorum asked, “then where is she if you are so familiar with this domicile?”

  The boy sneered, “mind your own business. You have no right to detain me!”

  Jorum laughed, “I have every right to detain you if you are in a place where you have no legal right to be. What exactly were you doing in there?”

  “An excellent question,” came an amused female voice, “and one whose answer I would dearly like to know.”

  Both boys started and looked suddenly upon the woman who Jorum had been seeking. The captive boy scowled, “I found the place abandoned and thought I might take a look around.”

  The woman said patiently, “and help yourself to anything of value or interest while you were about it?” The boy shrugged but wore a sheepish grin.

  “This is all very well,” came another voice, this one young, masculine, and annoyed, “but I have pressing business that must be attended to immediately.”

  The woman laughed, “your father’s toe is acting up again is it? Well I shall attend to it as soon as may be but this other lad was here first.”

  “But!” said the newcomer in surprise.

  His complaint was cut short as the woman said, “gout is not an emergency young man, and Lord though your father be, it is the seriousness of the condition that dictates who gets tended to first.”

  The young lord rolled his eyes and said, “that is a silly way to go about things. Rank should have predominance in all matters.”

  She shook her head in exasperation and looked to Jorum who still held the prisoner, who had ceased his struggling, and she asked, “and what is your errand here boy? Besides for catching petty thieves that is.”

  Jorum grinned, “I was sent by the old widow who lives upon the Slough Road. My companion has taken frightfully ill with something she calls the ‘swamp ague’ and asks for your help.”

  She nodded thoughtfully and said, “certainly a nasty disease, especially to those new to these parts. He should certainly be seen but I am afraid I have other errands.”

  Jorum’s eyes were large as he made to beg her assistance but she cut him off and said, “unless of course I could convince the three of you to attend to a little errand for me and then I would be free to aid your varied cases.”

  “I ain’t helping you witch!” said the thief, “I don’t need no medicine.”

  The healer laughed, “you will go with these gentlemen to atone for your misuse of my property else I shall turn you over to the rightful authorities.”

  The boy nodded in disappointed resignation, the young lord looked rather appalled, and Jorum smiled in amusement as he said, “and what is this quest you shall set such unlikely heroes lady?”

  She smiled at his words and said, “in a town some thirty miles from here resides a junk dealer who has come into possession of perhaps the world’s ugliest painting. You three shall remove yourselves thence and acquire said painting for me thus freeing me up to attend to your needy acquaintances. The painting itself has no particular value save perhaps to a collector of obscure art but to me it has a certain sentimental value and I have long been in search of it.”

  Jorum smiled, “this seems no nefarious plot. I shall certainly lend you aid, as will my reluctant companion here. What of you, your excellency?”

  The young lord scoffed, “I shall attend to this fool’s errand but only that my father may gain swift attention. You try my patience madam but for now I shall entertain you.”

  She laughed greatly, gave them directions and described the painting, and then gave them a few coins for the purchase thereof. She left swiftly to attend to her waiting patients and the boys exchanged an amused and scandalized look. “I am off then,” said the thief, but Jorum held him firm by the collar, “you will do as you have promised or I shall see that you face the proper authorities.” He sighed but made no more attempts to shirk his duty.

  The young lord said, “I shall assume command of this farcical operation as I am certainly the wisest and most experienced of the three of us.”

  Jorum smiled and said, “as you wish my lord.” The thief shrugged noncommittally.

  “Have you horses?” came the querulous voice of the lord.

  Jorum nodded but the thief scoffed, “you think I would be poking about for valuables in a hovel such as this if I were rich enough to ride?”

  Jorum smiled, “he can ride with me. My mount can stand two riders with no ill effects.”

  Quid nodded abruptly and motioned the pair towards Jorum’s mount while he went to fetch his own. “I do not know how to ride!” said Kork the thief.

  Jorum laughed, “just get into the saddle behind me and hold on to my waist.”

  He nodded skeptically but proved quite adept at scrambling into the saddle. Jorum’s mount eyed the newcomer disdainfully; the boy laughed, patted the great neck, and tried to reassure the unicorn who could only shake his head in acquiescence. The young lord appeared astride his charger, looked askance at the common sort of horse the unicorn appeared, shrugged, and led the way down the road to Fennec.

  The young lord and the thief were neither one interested in talking but Jorum had no such qualms. Irritated by this peasant’s behavior Quid scowled, “have you no respect for your betters boy? If I want your input I shall ask it but until then you shall remain blissfully silent.”

  Jorum laughed, “I am not one of your subdued servants my lord and claim the right to speak as I will.”

  Quid sighed, “alas that you are not so easily cowed. How is it you come to address the nobility as if you were their equal?”

  Jorum smiled, “and who is to say I am not?”

  Quid raised a hopeful eyebrow and said, “you are then of noble blood?”

  Jorum laughed all the more, “certainly not! In the eyes of the Master all men are equal, it is only amongst ourselves that we quibble so over rank and seniority and power.”

  Quid wore a look of dread, “please do not tell me that I have been saddled for this entire journey with one of the thrice cursed Brethren!”

  Jorum smiled, “I am not sure I qualify as thrice cursed but yes I am of that calling but only an apprentice, so you are perhaps spared the burden of a full Brother.” Kork groaned miserably to discover he had fallen afoul of the Brethren.

  Quid said, “what a strange company we make! I wonder why she sent us all?”

  Kork finally spoke, “a wonder that she did not put a spell on the lot of us!”

  Jorum shook his head, “she was no witch. Certainly there are some herb dealers that also dabble in the black arts but she was not one of them.”

  Kork gasped, “how can you be so sure.”

  Jorum smiled, “I should have felt it if she were such a practitioner.”

  Quid scoffed, “my father would allow no such dabbler within his lands so you can be assured she is no meddler in evil.”

  Kork smiled, “I think I shall trust his lordship in this matter. Feel
it indeed!”

  The day was getting on and the tired sun had nearly concealed himself behind the horizon after the long day’s march across the sky as the travelers stopped for the evening nearly halfway to their destination. They lit a small fire and ate what Jorum had in his saddlebags, being the only one prepared for any sort of journey. The thief’s tongue began to loosen in both curiosity and at the absurdity of his situation; Quid seemed to relax and forget he was noble born. Jorum was talkative as ever. Quid asked of the apprentice, “so have you had an adventure or two in your life or do they simply lock you away in a tower until you are mad enough to believe all the stories are true?”

  Jorum laughed, “and who is to say they are not? There is often more truth in a story, even a fictitious one, than in much of the vaunted wisdom of men.”

  Quid shook his head, “your proselytizing will not work on me so you might as well give it up now. I am a satisfied skeptic. I would not even believe the sky were blue if I did not see it myself each morning.”

  Jorum grinned, “then is it yet blue when the clouds obscure it or when you have not yet glimpsed it of a morning?”

  Quid glared at the insolent boy, “why certainly you fool! Your seeming logic will not sway me.”

  Jorum smiled, “you are the one who brought it up.”

  Kork said almost to himself, “as a little boy I once thought the stories true! I hoped with all my heart but then life proved them far beyond belief.” Jorum looked at him quizzically and he continued, “you would not find them easy to believe if your mother had died when you were just a little boy and your father cared nothing about you. I have lived on the beneficence of strangers and relatives nearly my whole life and supplemented it with what I could scrounge on my own. Where is your beloved Master in my plight?”

  Jorum nodded, “the same place he has ever been, calling you to himself through all your silent griefs and unbearable sorrows.”

  Kork scoffed, “what does he know about suffering?”

  Jorum said quietly, “he need not have known death but he tasted it for us. He need not have allowed his creatures the chance to betray him but he did that they might know the true freedom of loving him willingly. He need not have allowed our treacherous race to continue and allow his heart to be smitten each time one of us chooses evil over good, selfishness over love. He knows suffering. He knows sorrow. He has borne them all and will one day overthrow all grief forever but until then we can ever turn back to the source of all joy and he will share in our private griefs.”

  Kork smiled slightly, “you almost give me hope.”

  Jorum returned the grin and said, “that is my greatest joy.”

  Quid scoffed, “lovely fairy tales all! You have no right to steal, thief! It would be better if you just allowed yourself to starve and rid the world of your pestilence.”

  Kork made to lunge at his tormenter but Jorum stood between them, “peace! This adventure will soon be at an end and there is no need for bloodied noses and missing teeth or cruel words!”

  Kork resumed his seat but wore a dreadful scowl while Quid smirked mirthlessly. Jorum could only sigh and shake his head and wonder if this adventure were truly worth it. They retired and were grateful that it was the middle of summer and no rain threatened. Morning came as morning ever does and awakened the three adventurers to what they hoped would be a quick and successful mission. They were soon in their saddles after having finished the scant rations in Jorum’s luggage and well on their way to Fennec. They spoke very little though Jorum tried to engage both in conversation but Kork still fumed over the previous night and Quid felt himself wholly above both of his companions. They completed the journey in silence and upon entering the town soon came to the shop specified by the healer.

  “You want the world’s ugliest painting?” gasped the shopkeeper, “why you are the third group inquiring of just such a work today! I should have sold the thing for thrice the price if only I had known it was so important.”

  Jorum asked, “who then purchased such a curious work?”

  The shopkeeper said, “his lordship the Mayor is a collector of unique art and could not help but buy it. I sold it to him quite cheaply as I feared I would never be rid of the thing. It came to me in a load of junk someone had salvaged from a ruined manor house somewhere in the Wilds. Is there nothing else I can interest you in?”

  Jorum shook his head, “I am afraid that painting was our only interest. Who else came looking for the picture?”

  The shopkeeper said, “a rather rumpled man in his middle years who said it was an old family possession.”

  Jorum thanked the man and Quid said, “I suppose our quest has failed. It cannot be said we did not try and I cannot wait to be rid of your company.”

  Jorum said, “we had at least better talk to the Mayor about it.”

  Quid sighed, “as you wish, I suppose it will not be that much more of an inconvenience.”

  They walked out into the bright noon sun and quickly came to the Tavern wherein the Mayor was wont to dwell over the lunch period. The man was easy enough to spot with his bright clothes and the gold mayoral chain about his neck. He looked quite out of place among all the craftsmen, farmers, and lesser merchants that shared his noon meal. He eyed the three boys with interest, especially the richly dressed youth, but it was Jorum who said, “sir, we hear that you have recently come into possession of a rather ugly painting. We were sent to acquire said artwork for a lady who claims some emotional attachment to the piece. Can we perhaps persuade you to part with it?”

  The mayor swallowed his bit of toast and laughed, “why you are the second party that has asked about that painting today! I told the other fellow as I shall tell you that I really have no interest in parting with it as it is certainly the ugliest painting on earth and therefore quite valuable. Perhaps for the right price?”

  At this he eyed Quid quite openly and the boy scoffed, “I will not part with one piece of silver for that thing and my father certainly shall not!”

  Jorum said, “is there nothing we can do to convince you to part with the work?”

  The mayor snorted, “not unless you pay me an exorbitant amount of money you won’t” Just then, a noise of shouting and wailing came from outside the inn and grew louder as the distraught servant rushed in to speak with his master the Mayor. “What is the reason for such a caterwaul!” groused the mayor.

  “Oh my lord!” gasped the servant, “someone has broken into your house and stolen your much beloved painting!”

  The mayor stood in indignation, “who would dare such a thing? I bet it was that scruffy fellow who wanted my painting earlier!”

  Jorum spoke up, “my lord, if we could apprehend the villain, would you sell us the work for a fair price?”

  The mayor thought it over for a moment and smiled viciously, “that anyone would dare break into my house is an outrage and it would be a pleasure to bring the villain to justice. So much a pleasure that I would gladly sell you that which you seek for whatever price you shall set.”

  Jorum smiled and said, “then we had best investigate this matter further. Can we have access to your home that we may look over the scene of the crime?”

  The mayor eyed him skeptically but said, “do as you wish but my servants and guards shall watch you closely. See that you come to no mischief!”

  Jorum bowed deeply, “certainly my lord.” The mayor snorted and returned to his lunch after telling the servant to do as the boy had asked. As they traipsed to the scene of the crime Jorum said to Kork, “this is certainly the reason you were sent on this mission. Who better to discover the latent secrets of a crime than a thief?”

  Kork smiled in anticipation and Quid scowled, wishing to be well away from Fennec by now but also bound by honor to see this ridiculous errand through. Kork contemplated, “perhaps there is a treasure map or some renowned painting on the back of the canv
as of such a work? Why else would anyone go to such pains to retrieve such an object?”

  Quid snorted, “I think they are all of them mad!” Jorum smiled quietly to himself.

  They soon came to the mayor’s house and the servant gathered a dozen large men and dangerous looking women to make sure their master’s house came to no grief by their hands. There was not much to see. The painting had hung in a place of honor in the main entryway of the house and it was now gone. A stranger had come to the house inquiring after their master, had knocked over the servant who answered the door, grabbed the painting, and ran as fast as he could. The house was in an uproar and the man had vanished though pursuit had been close behind. Kork could find no relevant clues about the house and the servants described him much as the shopkeeper had. Jorum sighed, gave his condolences to the servants to pass along to their master, and led the way out of town for there was now little they could do to pursue the man.

  “I told you this was pointless,” scoffed Quid as they rode away, “and I will be very glad to see my father again and be well away from you two.”

  They rode along in amused though disappointed silence for none could help but laugh at the absurdity but yet each felt some remorse for not having accomplished so silly an errand. They went as far as they could while the light lasted and then made a rather hungry camp having exhausted their meager supply of food. Jorum took his bow and hoped to have luck hunting but the light was too feeble to even attempt a shot at a squirrel. He sighed and made to return to camp, but stumbled upon a man sleeping in the midst of the woods. Beside him lay a horrible painting propped against a tree. Jorum drew his sword and the sound of steel sliding on steel brought the man suddenly out of his sleep. He started to find a boy holding a sword to his throat. The man then broke into tears, which only confused the boy more.

  Jorum had to smile at the strange situation and his mirth shone through in his voice as he said, “what troubles you man and what is your strange tale that you would steal such a horrible painting?”

  The man stifled his sobs and then burst into laughter, “to think anyone else on earth would want that hideous thing! I stole it because I could not buy it. I have tracked it across half the world and seek it only because it is the one small memory that I yet have to cherish. I weep because I thought you had come to take my life after I had attained the only bit of joy I have left to me which is the sweet memory evoked when I gaze upon that hideous work.”

  Jorum withdrew his sword from the man’s throat but did not yet put it up. He said, “I am afraid you have woven a very tangled web for yourself sir. I am duty bound to carry you back to Fennec that you may face the consequences of your actions.”

  The man’s face fell into utter dejection, “that pompous mayor of theirs will call for my head for such an offense!”

  Jorum said, “I shall also see that the punishment is no worse than the crime. Why is it you stole that thing?”

  The man laughed, “is it stealing to take back what is your own? Long ago I painted that wretched thing for a woman of my acquaintance back when I thought I had some skill in the art, but alas the woman is lost to me and I never did have much skill. She and I laughed long and hard over that awful painting and it reminds me of the happiest days of my life. Alas, she left me for other pursuits and I fell into a discontented depression and cared nothing for my duties as a lord. I wandered for a time and returned to find my estate in disarray and overgrown with weeds. All my valuables were gone and nothing remained but the inconsequentials, including that painting but it brought back bitter memory and for a time I would go off again, make just enough money to survive upon, and then returned again to my ruined estates. Ever that painting was there and eventually it reminded me of the good days without invoking utter despair. But on my last foray someone carted away much of what was left, including the painting, and I was years in tracking it. But alas I am now a criminal. Can you not let a poor old fool alone with his shattered past?”

  Jorum shook his head, “I told the mayor I would bring you back if I found you but perhaps we can end this to everyone’s satisfaction.”

  The man nodded glumly and followed Jorum patiently back to their camp. His companions gaped to see the man and even more so the much sought after painting. The man asked before they went to bed, “what interest have you in this painting anyway?”

  Jorum smiled, “a lady with a personal interest asked us to retrieve it for her.” The man was not quite so despairing as he rolled over and went to sleep. In the morning he was very nearly ecstatic.

  They went back to town and sought out the mayor ,who did indeed call for the man’s head but Jorum and the town elders managed to talk him out of such a proposal and the man settled for receiving three times what he had paid for the thing the day before. The man opted to join the three boys in their journey back though Quid was quite put out to be riding with another odd companion, perhaps one worse than a peasant for he was a disgraced noble! Laughed the man as they rode, “this is certainly a strange journey, perhaps the Brethren will one day put it into a song or story or something.”

  Jorum smiled, “that may well be. I am not sure I know of an odder mix of adventurers or a stranger prize. Now what is to come of the painting?”

  The man smiled, “I will present it to your lady and we shall see what comes of the tale.”

  Jorum smiled and the other two scratched their heads in wonder. They camped again that night and Quid cornered the fallen lord saying, “what made you give up all you once possessed? What power on earth is great enough to make one do such a thing?”

  The man said wistfully, “love is a strange and dangerous thing lad, and a broken heart is ruinous.”

  Quid scoffed, “you are all mad! You give up everything because a woman scorned you. That fool gives up all earthly pleasures for an imaginary lord and the thief wanders ever searching for what he cannot find.”

  Jorum said, “all men can find great love if they truly seek it, but it is not of romance of which I speak. The Master alone is the source of that love; the fountain from which springs the only water to quench our yearning mortal souls.”

  The man smiled and said, “perhaps you are not so mad as your companion thinks lad.”

  They arrived back at the healer’s cottage without incident the following day and she eagerly came out to meet them. She said to Quid, “your father’s toe is in passable health.” She turned to the boy, “your master shall recover though he shall be three weeks abed at the least.” She turned last to the thief, “what have you to say for ransacking my house boy?”

  Kork scuffed his toes in the dirt and said, “it was wrong of me to take what is not mine without asking lady. Forgive me.”

  She smiled and said, “very well, now what about my painting?”

  Jorum smiled, “we even brought the original artist to present such a unique work to you madam.”

  She gaped as the painter stepped out from behind the barn and gave her the horrendous work. She ignored the painting and gaped at the man, “is it truly you Stanly?”

  He laughed sheepishly and said, “it certainly is Morta. Can your old heart still love me? Mine has not forgotten and has spent my entire life pining away for you.”

  Tears came to her eyes as she said, “I was a fool to abandon you for something as silly as my life’s work! This has been no life without you. If you will take me back, I shall not refuse you.” Quid could only shake his head in astonishment while Jorum and Kork laughed for joy. The woman said, “when I sent you three after that painting I had no idea what would result. You have my thanks!”

  Kork said quietly, “maybe the Master really does care about the doings of mortal men.”

  Jorum grinned, “it seems I have three weeks at least to discuss the matter with you.”

  Kork smiled and Quid could only roll his eyes but he did say, “perhaps you should visit my father
’s estates. I am sure he would be amused by any stories you might have to tell, true or not. This does not count as friendship however, it is a mere courtesy. The thief may come as well.”

  Jorum smiled, “it shall be as you wish it my lord.”

  So it was that the three boys spent the better part of three weeks together and the reunited lord and his lost lady were not absent much from their company either. It was a strange and merry party with many tales told on all sides. Even Quid had to admit that he had witnessed a miracle, if a strange one, and his heart slowly began to soften towards such lowly characters. Finally the day came when Jorum’s mentor was able to travel once more. He was quite amused by his apprentice’s adventures and even more astonished when Kork and Quid wished to go to Astoria to learn more of the Brethren and their strange ways. The healer and her lord were married and lived many long and happy years in that land, though his lordship’s toe did not live quite so happily ever after as he might have wished.