The Heir of Garstwrot

by Veras Alnar

  Reaching up to touch the blunted ends, Amis shook his head in disbelief.

  “If the water was poisoned,” Amis said, “then how is Fulk still alive?”

  “That is a very good question,” Lord Guain said, turning his gaze on Fulk, “it's one I've puzzled over for quite some time. It's true that Garstwren's blood is poisonous to most but there were a few who were brought into his get by his veins alone. One of the requirements that would meet such a selection was said to be a guilt so terrible and so deep that the one who suffered it was on the very verge of madness. So, grave master, I ask what haunts you so greatly that only the blood of a monster could ever tame it? For you must know, it's only a matter of time before death finds you and crosses you off his list for eternity and the taste of blood on your lips will become as agreeable as Amis would find drinking yours.”

  There was a shadow that fell over Fulk's face that Amis would never forget, it was so cold and so Stygian in its casting that it was the sort of thing one would expect to find in the deepest pits of hell. When it cracked, Fulk confidently set his gaze at Lord Guain and grinned his skull headed smile.

  “I can't say that I suffer from any such thing as guilt,” Fulk said, “but I think if we two had to stand before an executioner I know who Amis would step in for. So, maybe seeing as Garstwren and my little friend here are related that might have something more to do with it than any fancies or assumptions made by yourself. Seeing as you had to steal his blood to make anything of it and toil for months and months and all I had to do was take a single swig of rotten water and the deed was done.”

  Lord Guain laughed, a handsome tinkling sound but he was obviously annoyed by Fulk's words.

  “What a serpent of a man. Someday he'll know the truth of you, grave master,” Lord Guain said, “and it will make him pale for all the cruel knowledge that comes with it. I shall tell you plainly Amis, that this man is not your friend-”

  “And you're not his!” Fulk snapped, “he's no Lordly person, he's the pitiful Gessetto! The crooked hunchback of Carbone's tower! It was pity that forced Carbone into shutting this murdering madman inside his tower instead of seeing through his well deserved execution, because even if Gessetto were mad he was still Carbone's brother. Fortune can cover a man in gold and silks all it likes but the soul will still be rotten as a month old corpse and he's an evil so grim that the graves I've dug and all they've been filled with wouldn't even shake a stick to the horrors he's committed.”

  “My back is STRAIGHT!” Lord Guain shrieked with such volume, the glass on the table shook.

  Lord Guain was panting, his face a tormented and twisted picture so very ugly and lovely all at once.

  “You know nothing. Nothing! Not of the darkness of the mines beneath the gleaming cities of Elaine and drinking from the poison wells until the flesh on your limbs nearly rots off from sickness. Not the sounds of women screaming over stillborn children and infants hobbling down shafts breaking themselves on the rocks, barely surviving and crying for weeks until no one comes to save them and they die. I saw Carbone through it all, rescued him as a child from the same place. Gave to him all my teachings, until he became one of the greatest masterminds this world has ever known. Because of me! My brain, which is the greatest intellect in all of Hircea. I crawled alone in the dark for years and this is my light grave master, this place and all who dwell in it. I shall see every noble house brought to ruin, except for the one I've chosen to love, and Amis will rise and reach new heights of villainy with my help!”

  Fulk began laughing, ugly and flat.

  “He's not like you, my lord,” Fulk said, “for all his frightful sword swinging, he's too good a man to follow your lead in anything and far too stupid to be taught any scheming arts. Not particularly useful, our Amis but he is very loyal to anyone he loves and you went and killed his girl and his cat in one fell swoop. I'd wager he likes you a little bit less for that one.”

  The most horrendous expressions twisted across Lord Guain's handsome face, his ire growing. Yet, Amis could see Fulk twisting slightly in his chair, he was somehow trying to pick the locks. Thinking that at any moment Lord Guain would crack and kill them both in a fit of madness, Amis shuffled in the pocket of his fine clothes and pulled free the little golden book he had stuffed there. He needed a distraction, some way to give Fulk the time he needed to escape and himself time to get his sword. If there was one thing Amis could count on, it was Fulk having mind to live another day no matter what the cost.

  “I may not be very smart but I know something valuable when I see it. I don't suppose you'd be interested in this, my lord,” Amis said, “in exchange for the life of my- well, I wouldn't call him a friend exactly.”

  Lord Guain's frantic eyes fell on the gilt little book and Amis knew the man was nearly struck down with desire for it.

  “That is a copy of Garstwren's diary-” Lord Guain's eyes were rapt on the book, “give it to me.”

  “No,” Amis said, “you know what, maybe Fulk isn't that much of a friend after all. I don't think I have need of any books.”

  “Amis,” Lord Guain said, rushing towards him, “give it here, now. You have no idea how to read it or what's in its pages. Only that book knows when the thirst for blood might strike you beyond your control, or what strange powers you've been given! I can tell you but only me, it's an impossible, ancient poetic language, like nothing else! It would offer the most spectacular story-”

  “I'm not fond of stories,” Amis said, “and poetry is a bore.”

  Just as Lord Guain lunged for it and Amis rushed towards the fire and threw the little book into the flames.

  “NO! What have you done!” Lord Guain roared.

  He rounded on Amis and grabbed him close while his features contorted into such a frightful distortion Amis felt himself grow limp with fear. For once, Amis felt he was seeing the real Gessetto, the twisted madman and not the Lord.

  “The truest monster here is you,” Amis said, his voice quaking, “and the keep belongs to me not some made up Lord. I decide who lives and dies inside its walls!”

  With a hard slap, Amis was sent sprawling onto the floor.

  “Oh, shut up yourself,” Lord Guain said, “I shouldn't expect less from such a stunted child.”

  Amis breathed raggedly, assured in his heart that what he had done was right even if it might end him in the doing. The heavy lethargic feelings were beginning to pass. Soon he would regain his strength and by that time he was sure of it, Fulk would have undone his chains.

  “Since you have stolen the truth from me, I'll be kinder and return one to you. You were kept apart from all the other children in order to raise you as a fool,” Lord Guain said, “and it's clear they've done their work well but no one has played you more than the grave master and that stupid girl you professed to love.”

  “Don't you dare,” Fulk shouted, “let him have his ignorance!”

  “Keep that forked tongue in your mouth,” Lord Guain said, “it's only fair he should know what he's done and understand the truth of it. I want him for once in his life to see the world for what it is and not what his relatives told him. They despised you Amis and wished you dead and all you can whine about is how much you miss them. And you didn't even have the decency to kill them when they betrayed you. So listen now and feel because here is the truth of where your ignorance has led you.”

  “Damn you!” Fulk shrieked.

  Amis struggled to his feet, he could feel a swirl of anger growing in his stomach. Wasn't Lord Guain lying to him? It was all he did. Lie after lie about everything, especially that Lord Guain had felt anything like love for him.

  “Think back to your childhood alone and shoved aside while all your siblings gained money and fortune while you, the best swordsman this land and probably the entire country has ever seen was in borrowed armour and a lame horse. And all the people of the town, encouraged by Martin of course who couldn't trust a soul unless you got found out, forced to keep away. Why then would
a pretty wench like your beloved Durgia ever spend a moment with you, except to gain something by the doing? Her father was friends with yours from long ago, they fought next to each other in the first successive war. It would only take a very small slip for Durgia to find out that you were born of noble blood and I will give her some benefit here, she was certainly cleverer than most. Her aspirations to succeed would have only been tempered by her superstitious fears, crippled as she was by her lowly birth and education.”

  “Don't speak about her like that!” Amis shouted.

  “Oh? Why not?” Lord Guain said, mockingly, “She used you, Amis. She borrowed your love and wished for a child who might inherit all that gold she fancied was waiting for you in Garstwrot keep. She thought you were going to die, Amis, that you'd be dead and there would be an empty claim. Even if she were to get married to someone else years later, a bastard child guaranteed a sure connection to lands and prosperity but her little scheme went awry.”

  “For pity's sake,” Fulk said, “stop here, say no more.”

  “Ah but Amis' lover had no pity for him did she,” Lord Guain said, “So what did you do to earn the ire of the town, tell us both again.”

  “I-,” Amis started, he swallowed thickly, “I killed an infant.”

  “Who did it belong to besides our charming woman?” Lord Guain said.

  “I don't know,” Amis said, “It could have been anyone's! She was well loved!”

  “Think harder!” Guain shouted, “Is there no one it might have been?”

  “No! I don't know!” Amis shouted back.

  “The infant was three months old,” Lord Guain said, “it takes nine months to gestate. Twelve months ago it was a chilly Spring same as now, certainly the kind of day one does find a warm place to lay together during a clandestine affair. Are you following?”

  Amis said nothing, he couldn't. His bile rose in his throat and he nearly choked on it, they had been in the barn at that exact time.

  “She must have seen those terrible eyes,” Lord Guain said, “those awful hideous eyes in her own child and realized the legends about Garstwrot had some truth, filled with terror she would have gone to her father. Her father would have known straight away what had happened and then, Martin would too and the presence of a child would have been most dire to a lordship so deep in secrecy. Perhaps they were already planning to kill the infant when you went out into that barn that night. Suffice to say, the poor girl panicked. One thing to have a noble's bastard son but quite another to have birthed the spawn of satan. So she made you-”

  “She didn't make me,” Amis said, “she asked me.”

  “She made you kill,” Lord Guain said, “your very own son. You've become the monster they always thought you were and no one will ever love you for it, except for me.”

  Lord Guain hurled a goblet in frustrated anger, Amis only heard the loud clang as it hit the floor. He couldn't think, he couldn't hear anything but the strangled sound of his own breathing. It was a lie. It must have been. It was-

  It was-

  She had looked so sad and so afraid. Her eyes had been so upset but most of all, she had pitied him.

  She had pitied him.

  She had to have known.

  “And that is the problem with this brat,” Lord Guain said, “he can only think in straight rows. Goodness knows how he got this far, they could have poisoned him with a basket of sweets and stolen Garstwrot for all it was worth and saved themselves the trouble. Was burning that book worth it, Amis? Now Garstwren's writings are lost unless we can find a copy and the devil knows where those might be, in all my years I've never heard of a single one surviving.”

  “Did you know,” Amis said, voice a raw whisper.

  Fulk ceased his squirming and sat very still. He closed his eyes but briefly and opened them again.

  “I had some idea, yes,” Fulk said, “I knew if an infant still lived you'd want to take him with you even if Durgia was afraid of him. She'd wanted that at first but I talked her out of it. If she'd left the baby with you then we'd never have made it beyond Garstwrot's walls, you're useless at everything but killing, what sort of father might you have been?”

  “What does it matter what I'd have been,” Amis said, “it was MINE!”

  Some terrible sound issued from Amis throat, a rattle that began in the windows and seemed to vibrate out into the stones themselves. A horrific, blood curdling scream.

  Unbelievably, since Amis' body was so thin, he picked up the entirely of the banquet table and hurled it at them both. It narrowly missed Fulk who kicked his chair backwards out of the way but the edge clipped Lord Guain's side, who yelped in pain. The table hit the plaster walls and cracked them into pieces, they fell to the ground in a tremendous crash. Lord Guain was struggling to stand, still in pain but the sound that issued from Amis made him scramble onto all fours. It took a moment to see what Amis' terrified eyes were seeing. Above Lord Guain's head there was a stone creature, a giant bat with mouth open and eyes agape and wide, as though something had at one time been filling their empty sockets. From its mouth issued the most horrible, red stain dried into a copper color all the way across the floor.

  The ground began to rumble and then to shake but it wasn't coming from the earth this time. Shouts went up from downstairs and then the most atrocious bang followed.

  “Think we've got some company arriving,” Fulk said.

  “The Baroness!” Lord Guain burst out, “damn, damn! She won't have Garstwrot it's mine!”

  Amis had been shocked to stillness his eyes gone wide, the bat was the same he had seen his dream in all its lurid ferocity and the sounds, so like what he had heard it made his gut twist.

  With a painful grip Lord Guain grabbed Amis and began hauling him roughly through the hall until they reached the library. Amis struggled and writhed but his arm was around him so tight it felt like it was cracking his ribs. He glanced back and saw Fulk had finished using a glittering, gilt hairpin to pick his chains and opened them just in time to crawl away.

  “Monster!” Amis shouted, hitting Lord Guain, “murderer! Bastard!”

  More worrying was Lord Guain's iron grip that threatened to crack his bones it was so tight.

  “Call me whatever you like,” Lord Guain said, “but I won't let you leave, not now!”

  Shoving Amis roughly against the shelf while yanking one of the red leather books, Amis felt the wall go out behind him.

  “They'll not have you,” Lord Guain said, “not ever.”

  Lord Guain bit Amis' lip, drawing blood.

  The stones felt liquified and vanishing and Lord Guain's twisted, greedy expression vanished until all he saw was plunged into a startling blackness.

  Pressing his hand to his bleeding mouth, Amis could only feel the cold stones under him and feel the walls shake. Dawn was weakening him until he had all the strength of a kitten. Red glass was above him shining its light and he thought, in the crimson shadows as dawn crept over the glass, he could see the shadow of a great beast looming over him. Then unconsciousness took him and he knew no more.

  When Amis woke up, he could hear himself weeping. Tears were on his face that he didn't remember shedding but his sick heart told him why. All the struggle and heartache and Durgia's pitying eyes and Fulk's horrendous role in all of it. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up and realized his hallway was painted a lurid red by the stained glass at the end of it. Moving closer to the glass he realized bits of it had been broken. He poked a finger through a loose piece, sending it tumbling down into what he recognized as the courtyard.

  There were two knights standing on the grass holding the banner of a fiefdom he had never seen. It was a thistle and a crow, looking foreign in design. Another two knights came into his view who were dragging Nethir by his arms towards a stump.

  “Shall we?” they asked a personage outside of his view.

  An older woman's voice replied, “if he wants to make it difficult, so be it.”

  “Please,” Neth
ir begged, “it was a terrible mistake. The tower was supposed to keep him in Elaine that was the agreement-”

  “Silence Carbone,” the woman said, “there are enough crimes from your end to fill as many books as your brother's. None of you are free from guilt and no court in Adelaide would ever convict me of any wrongdoing.”

  “Stop this,” Nethir pleaded, “you have enemies don't you? I can help you hunt them down, just let me put him back in his prison where you can trust he'll remain this time!”

  “Who would ever trust in your poisoned words,” the Baroness said, “blood for blood. He killed my daughter, it's only fair I kill the next of the kin.”

  “No!” Nethir shouted, as he was forced to lean over, “this is a pagan place! It's Garstwren's kingdom! Let me have a proper Godly execution on Christef's ground!”

  The Baroness sounded resolute, “you deserve whatever hell may come to you. Ready, executioner?”

  Another knight stepped forward with a sword, he readied his stance as Nethir screamed and pleaded all on deaf ears.

  Amis staggered backwards and tried not to look but he could still hear. He clapped his hands over his ears and scrunched his eyes shut but it was useless.

  The sound of flesh breaking was loud and Nethir's screams rang out, until nothing sounded at all but faint gurgles. It had not been a clean death, it had taken several agonizing strokes. Stepping back from the window Amis had no idea what to do. His sword was in some other room, Fulk was likely very far away and Lord Guain was finally answering for his multitude of crimes and he...could trust no one.

  But there was the hallway and even though the stench of corpse was ever more apparent, Amis knew if he could get down through the winding path he might have a chance of getting his sword back and of escaping. Carefully he wandered the darkened halls and felt the rough stones along the wall but after one particularly sharp turn that led to a dead end, he realized what he was exactly looking at; the plaster wall behind his fireplace. It looked old and damp and put up roughly. After pressing his ear to it, he realized he could break through if he tried, so he put his knees to it and used the stones to brace him. After some difficult pushes it fell out in a great, shattered lump. Amis popped through in a similar fashion and found himself sprawling on the floor.