Misthaven: The Complete Trilogy

by J Battle

‘Well, now you mention it, it’s just come to me. My home, you see, it were fine when it was just me. But not with three rowdy boys, it ain’t. If I could get myself a bigger house, and mayhap a serving girl to help with the washing, and…’

  She’d watched as the girl had nodded at each suggestion, so she decided to go one step further. ’And, if Lord Richard could see his was to paying something towards their keep, that would be a big help.’

  ‘Indeed it would, I expect.’ Alice touched the old ladies arm. ‘Here now, take a seat whilst I have a quick word with Lord Richard. Will you have a drink of tealeaf whilst you wait? Or, perhaps, something a little stronger?’

  ‘Oh, that’s very kind of you, my dear. It’s a little early for me, but I’ll have a glass of ale, so as not to insult.’

  ‘Very well.’

  Alice left the room and walked up and down the corridor for a moment of two, with a pensive look on her face. Then she went down to the kitchen and sent young Jakk out on an errand. Whilst she waited for his return, she poured a small glass of ladyale.

  She returned to the reception room a little later with the drink on a small tray.

  ‘Thank you kindly, my dear,’ said Miss Higard. She took a quick sip and pursed her lips. ‘Ladyale,’ she said.

  ‘Of course. At this time of the day, you’d hardly want anything stronger; not with the boys to look after.’

  ‘No, my Lady. Quite right, my Lady.’

  ‘Good. Now, I’ve discussed your problem with Lord Richard, and I think we have the solution for you.’

  Miss Higard smiled. ’Thank you kindly.’

  ‘So, just to clarify, you don’t have the room for these boys, you don’t have the money to feed and clothe them adequately, and you feel that you are too old for the task, in any case. Is that a fair summing up for you?’

  ‘Well…I don’t know about the last bit. With a serving girl to help me…’ She stopped because the slip of a girl before her was shaking her head.

  ‘There’s no need for that, not at all,‘ said Alice, with a sweet little smile. ‘I fully understand how hard it is for a woman of your years to leave the home she has lived in for so long, and how hard it is for a proud woman such as you to accept charity, and the noise these boys must make must be terrible for you and your neighbours. So, we have a solution. There’s a man in town, you’ll know him I expect, he’s always called Dan the Man, and he’s brought up three fine boys all on his own since his dear wife passed, and what a fine job he did with them. He has plenty of room and his own income, and he is not yet very old. It is a perfect solution to your problem, don’t you think?’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Exactly. I knew you’d be happy and, of course, once Lord Richard has made a decision, there will be no changing it.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Now, I have to take the boys now. When you’ve finished your drink, Jefro will escort you home, and perhaps we will see you again sometime, for another lovely chat. Goodbye for now.’

  With that she was gone, and Miss Higard was left with her weak ale and a deal of confusion about how what had just happened had in fact happened.

  When Jefro arrived to guide her home, he was met with a somewhat sour expression.

  Chapter 30 Ferrooll

  Ferrooll was sitting outside the tavern nearest to the harbour, with a half of a hogshead and the remains of a dead sheep beside him when they arrived.

  ‘Good day to you, little Lord,‘ he said, and ducked his chin a couple inches by way of showing his respect. ‘It’s a fine day for a good long walk, it is.’

  Lord Richard smiled up at him. ‘We’ll not be walking today, friend, we will be sailing.’

  Ferrooll considered his words for a moment, and then he decided that his answer required to be delivered standing up, so he grunted and groaned his way to his feet.

  ‘I’m not of a mind to take a ride in a boat, Lord, if it don’t offend. Us Giants, we’re too heavy for a boat, and we don’t swim too well, because the water’s too thin to hold us up, and there ain’t no food at the bottom of the sea, I reckon, or ale, or even air to breath.’

  ‘The sea will take us to find the Trytor in a much swifter manner than we could achieve on land.’

  ‘Not if it gobbles us up first, it won’t. I ain’t getting in a boat, and that’s the end of it.’

  ‘It isn’t a boat,’ said Alice, with a smile, ’it’s a ship.’

  ‘What’s a ship?’

  ‘It’s a…big boat.’

  ‘Forgive me, young little miss, but that’s like saying a turnip ain’t a turnip, just because it’s a big turnip.’

  ‘You will come to no harm on a ship, Mr Ferrooll. I’ve even seen horses carried by ships, and they’ve been perfectly safe.’

  ‘I’ve seen your father riding a horse, but he ain’t riding me,’ said Ferrooll, with a nod as if his words made perfect sense to him.

  ‘If that is the case, then we shall travel by land, Ferrooll, for I would not have you gobbled up by the sea,‘ said Richard, with a relaxed smile. ‘Jefro, please bring down my horse. Get James to pack the saddlebags for you and return as soon as you may.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Jefro, with a stern look for the Giant, as if he might be tempted to bump heads with the big fellow for disrupting Lord Richard’s plans.

  He passed the mage on his way down to the harbor, with a heavy bundle in his arms.

  ‘Giants,’ he said, without stopping, ‘too big for their little brains, if you ask me.’ Then he was gone, leaving a confused mage in his wake.

  The mage was soon down in the harbor.

  ‘Here it is,’ he said, handing his bundle to Richard. ’I did just as you asked. God willing, it will suffice.’

  ‘Thank you, mage. I know it wasn’t easy for you.’

  ‘It’s done now, so no need to talk about it further.’

  ‘Lord,‘ said Ferrooll, as he settle his great buttocks on the ground beside the tavern wall. ‘Come and sit with me and eat while you wait for that little grumpy person to return.’

  ‘Thank you, Ferrooll, but I have already broken my fast.’

  The Giant studied him for a moment, his mouth twisted a little.

  ‘You’ve lost weight since I last saw you, up on Rizer’s Edge, and that’s not good. You weren’t big to begin with, so you don’t want to go on getting smaller, because the Trytors won’t be getting smaller, I’ll tell ye that for a smile and a flagon of your best, I will.’

  ‘I’ve not had much of an appetite lately, my friend.’

  ‘Say that again, will you please? I reckon I know all the words, but I couldn’t catch hold of their meaning.’

  ‘Wait a minute, and sorry to interrupt, father. But, Mr Ferrooll, you said Trytors, as if there were more than one. Is that correct, or did you misspeak?’

  ‘I’ll answer you plain, little lady miss. Before I left Rizer’s Edge and took myself down to your nice little town, I asked questions of the little people who live nearby, and they told me all I needed to know about the Trytors, though they were less than generous with their ale and food, if you don’t mind me saying as much.’

  ‘That was a good idea, Ferrooll, for the more information we have, the better we are armed,’ said Richard.

  ‘That don’t make any more sense to me than what you said about your appetite, but anyway, there are three of them, that walk the land, though some say there is a fourth, one who is never seen. But not everyone said that, so I don’t know if it’s true. So, the biggest one, and the oldest, is Ashlorn, and people say he is taller than a Giant, though I don’t know how that can be.

  ‘One man told me that Trytors just keeping on growing, that they never stop, though I don’t know how he knew that, and he smelled of much strong ale, I think. The other two are Teldorn and Brudorth, if I believe what I’m told.’

  ‘You can’t fight three of them, father! You can’t! One was bad enough to consider, but not three. Even with a Giant on your side, and I beg your pardon Mr Ferro
oll.’

  ‘There is little point in discussing this further, my dear. It mayhap that we will take them on singly, so there will be no difference, as if there were only one.’

  ‘Except you will have three chances to fail and die, father.’ There was a coldness in her voice, as if it was the only way to control her anger, and her fear.

  ‘I’ll not stop here and watch you march off to your death, father. There are things to be done.’

  She turned away from her father and the Giant, and began to walk up the street.

  ‘Will you not give me one last hug in fare thee well, my dear?’ said Richard, with one hand half raised towards her.

  She stopped, but she did not turn.

  ‘No, father. I will hug you on your return. I will not waste my hugs…on a dead man.’

  With a sob, she began to run, and she did not stop until she reached the cool hard stone of the dam.

  Chapter 31 Elstar

  Crawlord Elstar was standing by the talking stone in the centre of the meeting hall of the fellhall, the home of the higher echelons of the Elvenfolk’s rulers.

  He was alone, awaiting the arrival of Crawlady Blodness. As usual she was late and she would surely rush in with tales and explanations and excuses, as if he could care less.

  He placed one well shod foot on the first step of the talking stone and bounced up a little on his toes. He gave a quick glance around the hall to check that he was still alone and took the next step, feeling a frisson of excitement mixed with fear.

  Before he had a chance to enjoy the sensation of standing on the broarlord’s step, he heard a sound across the hall and quickly stepped down to the floor.

  Anyone could stand on the floor, from the lowest sublord to the highest elflord. The first step was the crawlord’s step, and only a crawlord and above could stand upon it. For a sublord to take that step would mean castigation and exile.

  The steps climbed to the top of the stone; six steps in all, matched by the same sequence on the other side of the stone. From craw to broar to centi to dam to crey to elf, the steps rose, and so might an ambitious and able lord such as Elstar, given time and good fortune.

  ‘Trying the next step for size are we, Elstar?’ She laughed as she spoke, and took up her position opposite him. ‘Did it feel right for you? Or were you filled with fear? Was the broarlord’s step not enough for you? Did you seek a higher step, perhaps?’

  ‘Blodness, you have no manners or respect for the Talking Stone.’

  ‘But sir, I have all the manners that I need and all the respect that I care for,’ she said, with a playful tone, as she brushed back the brilliant white human hair that made up her wig.

  Elstar moved up to the crawlord’s step and Blodness matched him on her side of the stone.

  He stared into her brilliant, glowing blue eyes, and saw the beauty that she had once possessed, in a different world where fortune favoured the Elvenfolk. A world where she might not have looked so ridiculous, in her long ivory party gown and matching gloves.

  With a wide smile and a challenge in his eyes, he took another step.

  Again, she matched him, her eyes never leaving his.

  He paused for a second to savour the moment, or to build his courage, and then he was standing on the centilord’s step. He laughed when he saw her hesitate, then she gathered herself and moved up.

  He glanced at the damlord’s step and thought, enough is enough for all that, and returned to the first step.

  Blodness held her position for a moment longer, a triumphant smile on her tight, veined face, then she too returned to her rightful place, with a swish of her dress.

  ‘I’ve sent my man; sent him on his way today,’ said Crawlord Elstar.

  ‘Which one? The hairy one who believes himself free to come and go as he pleases?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Who else would I send? Not one of my female humans, certainly. They are wonderfully soft you know, and they hardly smell at all if you bathe them for long enough.’

  ‘What about your other males?’

  ‘I would not spare them, no not at all. They are wonderfully hard you know, when sufficiently stimulated, but no amount of bathing will rid them of the smell.’

  Blodness laughed; her cackle radiating across the hall. She had her own little coterie of humans and she had her own opinions.

  ‘You know there’s something wrong with that town? I smell it, I tell you, and I won’t tell you what I smell.’

  ‘Elstar, you don’t need to tell me what you smell. It’s what you always smell; Magic. You smell it when you see a rainbow; you smell it when you see a full moon; you smell it when a bird flies about your head.’ She straightened her wig, which had gone a little awry with all the mirth.

  ‘This time I will be proved correct.’

  ‘If you smell it often enough, one day you will be right.’

  ‘This time, Blodness, this time. The town leaks Magic; I can taste it on my tongue.’

  ‘Well, mayhap you will be right this time. It is my hope that you are right, for that would bring a return to those glorious days when the Magic sustained us and allowed us to be wonderful.’

  Elstar nodded and saw the same dream through his own eyes.

  Once, the Elvenfolk had Magic and all was well. They didn’t need to study the lore of the Magic, for they were creatures born of Magic and it resonated within their nature. They were always long-lived creatures, but the Magic kept them whole, and supple and young, and filled them with the joy of life.

  Then came the time when the Magic failed and left this land, and they were diminished. The centuries still bore them along, though their bodies aged and sickened and, refusing death, required something other to infuse them with life. Then along came the humans, and the pain was salved, at least in part.

  ‘I will claim this Magic, my dear, and cast the elflord from his throne,’ Elstar said, his head held high in defiant certitude.

  ‘Yes, crawlord, if you say so, crawlord.’ Was the somewhat less than totally committed and enthusiastic reply.

  Chapter 32 Meldon

  Meldon climbed from the bed, perspiration dripping into his eyes, and he adjusted his clothing.

  The streetwalker lay still on the bed, with only her eyes moving as she watched him. Her hair was matted with sweat and her clothes were torn.

  Meldon smiled down at her, and he considered allowing her to continue on with her miserable existence. He’d planned to kill her at the point of climax, but, at the last moment, she’d done something with her hips and pushed him over the edge before he was quite ready.

  ‘Sir, is quite the ram, if you pardon the expression,’ she said, perhaps looking for an extra payment. ‘Worth a brace of younger men, I’d say.’

  ‘Now, my dear, you may be right, or you may be flattering an old fool.’

  He was surprised to find that he was in such a good mood. Mayhap it was the Stone, lightening his mind, or the two hours he’d just spent rutting.

  ‘What is your name, my dear?’

  ‘Fleur, sir, if you don’t mind.

  ‘Well, Fleur, do you have better clothes?’ he asked, as he glanced around the dingy little room.

  ‘I have my Sunday-best, sir.’

  ‘Are they…decent?’

  ‘I wear them when I see my ma, if that’s what you mean, sir.’ She spoke slowly, as she tried to work out what he was looking for.

  ‘Do you have access to washing facilities?’

  ‘Of course, Sir. I keeps myself very clean.’

  ‘Then wash thoroughly and dress in your best, and you may attend a party I will be throwing this evening.’

  ‘A party. I ain’t never been to a party. Where will it be?’

  ‘Up at the palace.’

  ‘The palace! No! I ain’t going there! I heard bad things about that there prince.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about the prince. He won’t be bothering you, or anyone else for that matter, I can guarantee that for you. Just come along at su
nset and ask the guard to allow you entrance.’

  ‘But…he won’t let the likes of me in.’

  ‘Just mention my name. Tell him that Meldon, the Regent has requested your presence.’

  ‘Regent? I didn’t know there were a Regent.’

  ‘There is now, my dear, and none shall stand in your way.’

  ‘Will I be your…, what’s the damned word? Your courtesan?’

  Meldon smiled. ‘If you like, my dear, but be sure to wash the stink of sex from you first.’

  ‘Yes, sir, Mr Meldon, Regent of All the Land,’ she said it with such awe in her voice that he was pleased that he had not yet killed her.

  He strode through the town, and the beggars and street-scum saw what he was, and they bowed to him as he went.

  In an unaccustomed fit of generosity, he cast a spray of silver coins to either side as he walked, leaving pandemonium behind him.

  Back at the palace, he opened the door to the prince’s room and slipped through without allowing the guard to see inside.

  The prince’s body was no longer arched or trembling. He lay still on the bed, with his eyes closed and his face relaxed.

  ‘Oh, damned if I haven’t missed his death,‘ he muttered, as he approached the bed. Then he saw the prince’s chest rise, and he realized that he was not too late.

  He sat beside the bed for a while, listening to the slow even breathing and watching the chest expand and contract.

  ‘What is happening to you now, my prince? Has your Magic drained away and is the poison wreaking damage that cannot be seen?’

  The prince drew in a deep breath, and held it for what seemed far too long. Meldon watched, not realising that he too held his breath.

  Then the prince shuddered and he breathed again.

  ‘Are you fighting it, my prince? Is that what is happening? Will you awaken and find that your battle against the poison is in vain?’

  After an hour or so, with no apparent change to the prince’s condition, Meldon found that he was bored.

  He left the room quickly and locked the door behind him, slipping the key into his pocket.