Emma and the Banderwigh

by Matthew S. Cox

  Shimmering green light formed at her chest and spiraled around her arms into the wound. This time, she had the intent formed before she spoke, and the glow did not linger. Greyfang’s legs twitched as if he were running in a dream. The wound closed to an angry scab. Emma put a hand on her head, about ready to faint. Everything she had gone through that night had left her drained and weary.

  “I do not think I can endure another.” She steadied herself and held out her hands again.

  Moonsong nipped at her fingers. “No, child. I can smell he will live. Do not hurt yourself.”

  She let her arms flop into her lap and glanced up at the sniffling man. “What happened to Ewan?”

  The wretch’s eyes glazed over. A glassy rattle echoed out of his lungs; she could not tell if he was breathing in or out. “I… Cage. I found him in a cage. He did not know it was me. I took from him, but not for long.” He slid fingers through his hair, growling. “My own son screamed whenever he saw me. It broke through the haze in my heart. I let him go, but took others.” He bent forward, shivering and rocking. “It’s been so long, I should be dead by now.” He cried. “Dozens I can’t remember. Pain. I see a little boy and a girl a bit older.” He looked up, locked eyes with her, and glanced away. “You.”

  “You took me and my brother. But I wasn’t sad.”

  A smile formed for an instant, fading to a forlorn stare. “Yes, I remember. It hurt. The reverse of sustaining, you pulled strength from me.” He smiled. “I am…glad you saved yourself.” He held her by the shoulders again, coughing. “You saved me, too.”

  Crashing and snapping erupted from behind the chimney. The man pulled Emma toward himself as if to hug her. She glanced in the direction of the noise, drawing in air for a scream. Most of the wolves backed away out of sight―Moonsong and Greyfang stayed in place. He reached across her back, patting her, about to pull her into an embrace. His expression was strange, as though he had experienced so much pain, normal had become euphoria. He stared with vacant eyes, unaware of the noise charging out of the woods.

  “Your love for that animal broke the spell,” he rasped.

  “I thought I heard her this way,” said a voice so deep it had to be Arnir, one of the watch.

  Pine needles and mulch exploded in a flurry of flashing metal and gleaming armor. Father barreled out into the clearing, reaching through the air with his left hand.

  “Emma!” His wide eyes narrowed to a vengeful glower. His broadsword flashed blue in the moonlight as he drew it back. “Unhand my daughter, you fiend!”

  “Da!” Emma screamed. “He’s―”

  Father’s hand seized the back of Emma’s dress, pulling her away. The man bucked and gurgled; steel slid past her face, plunging into his heart.

  “―not a monster.” Emma stared on in horror as the once-Banderwigh wheezed and fell over backwards, sliding off her father’s sword.

  “Emma!” Father fell on one knee, gathering her to his chest with his left arm. “Praise all the gods and their servants! I was so worried. Your mother sent us back out as soon as we returned. She said you’d been taken again.”

  She continued to stare at the twitching man, blood welling up and out of his mouth. He reached towards her, gurgling.

  “Thank…”

  His arm fell to the ground. With a final gasp, he was dead.

  “Why did you kill him!” Emma pounded her fist against her father’s brigandine chest plate. The leather-covered steel thumped. “He wasn’t a monster anymore.”

  Father stood, hauling her off her feet. She squirmed and shrieked, trying to get away. He pointed at the injured wolf, gesturing with his sword at one of his men.

  “Put it out of its misery.”

  “No!” Emma’s piercing shout stalled them. “If you hurt Greyfang, I will never forgive you!”

  “Emma, calm down. The animals are dangerous. I don’t know how you survived being kidnapped by that thrice-damned wretch and a pack of wild dogs.”

  “They’re not wild dogs, Da. They’re wolves.” She sniffled. “They saved me.” She stopped hitting him and sagged over his shoulder. “If it wasn’t for them, you’d have found me dead. They saved me an’ Tam from the goblins too!”

  “She’s delirious, Captain,” said Kavan. “Look at her, she’s about to faint.”

  “The wolves were going after the goblins,” said Arnir.

  Emma stared at him, sniveling. “I broke the spell. He wasn’t a monster anymore. Please, Da, don’t hurt the wolves.”

  “Poor girl,” said Guard Filner. “She must’ve ‘ad one ‘ell of a night. So lucky to be alive.”

  Emma shivered. “I fell into a nest of creepers, too.”

  The men exchanged glances.

  “That’s not funny, Emma,” said Father, sounding stern. “I did not raise a liar.”

  “Easy, Captain, she’s…” Kavan twirled his finger around his head. “Needs to sleep.”

  “Emma, if you got into a creeper nest―” Father couldn’t finish; mute, he squeezed her.

  “Put me down, Da. I can prove it.”

  Moonsong growled at an approaching guard.

  “Stop them, Da! Please.”

  Captain Dalen held a hand up in a gesture of delay. Haim lowered his sword, but did not take his eyes off Moonsong. Father let Emma down to her feet and she ran for the chimney, scurrying into the hearth.

  “Emma, that’s dangerous. It could fall and crush you.” Father chased after her.

  She reached up and plucked the wad of silk loose. She raised it to show them; it was as big as her body from shoulder to hip. All the men gasped at the quantity of it. She sat on the edge of the stonework, holding it up for Father to take as he arrived.

  He turned it over in his hand. “What’s the meaning of this? These hairs…”

  “I was stuck in that silk.” She shivered, and explained her bargain with the Emerald Queen.

  “The girl’s gone loopy,” said Filner. “Thinks she’s talking to spiders now.”

  Father waved the bundle at him. “And a ten-year-old just strolls into a creeper nest and harvests this much silk and walks away without so much as a numb leg?” He grumbled. “Watch the wolf, but don’t harm it if it remains quiet.”

  “Yes sir,” said the men.

  Emma sighed and slumped to the ground. Father put his sword away and took to one knee before her. He grasped her leg, shaking his head and cringing at all the thistles, nicks, and scrapes along her skin. Emma squeaked each time a thorn or splinter came loose from her; and then he repeated the process for her other leg. Out of the pouch Mother gave him, he took a larger bottle and opened it. The contents smelled like mint candy. Emma caught the open end with a palm, holding it back.

  “What’s this do?”

  “Your mother made it. It will close all the little cuts and keep you from getting sick.”

  “Give it to Greyfang. He’s hurt worse.”

  “Nonsense, Emma. That’s just a wolf. Come on…” He brushed her arm away. She leaned back, but he caught her by the head and fed her some of the liquid sweet. “Oh, don’t be difficult, Emma. This is medicine.”

  She gave up and drank a few mouthfuls of a liquid that tasted like blueberries. In seconds, her legs tingled as if snow fell on her. Her jaw tightened from how weird it felt. All the little wounds closed; even the lingering soreness from the glue trap went away. Father put the bottle away and picked her up. She almost protested at first, disgusted by what he had done. As soon as his arms were around her, she clung and bawled.

  “Da, why did you kill him?”

  “There’s no such thing as monsters that steal children. It was an evil, twisted wreck of a man. I”―he shivered with anger―“can’t imagine what he did to that poor Anders girl. Did he hurt you?” Father noticed the purple finger-shaped cold burn at her throat as if for the first time, and swore.

  “Da.” Emma sobbed. “He was free. He was free and you killed him. Why?”

  Captain Dalen looked over the faces
of his men for answers, but none were to be found.

  oonsong edged around, never moving more than two steps from Greyfang. The alpha wolf wheezed, seeming aware of the need to stand, but not attempting to do so. Emma put up a half-hearted attempt to get out of her father’s grip. For most of the night, she had wanted him to hold her, but he had just killed that poor man for no reason. He seemed intent on keeping her tight to his chest in a protective embrace. She gave up, and cried on his shoulder; quiet sniffles the only sound for some minutes.

  “Sun’ll be up soon,” said Kavan, as he returned from pacing the area.

  “Aye,” called Filner from the area by the gate. “No sign of bandits or anything else.”

  Father cradled the back of her head, picking a few strands of web away. He gave her a brief look, as if reconsidering her story about the spiders. Emma squirmed higher, peering over his shoulder at Greyfang.

  “Your mother was beside herself with worry. There were no other tracks but for that man’s boots, Emma. They were around the house. We came right back out here to find you.”

  She scrunched her face in a mixture of glare and sadness. “The curse let him go. He wasn’t bad anymore.”

  Kavan drifted by, squeezing her shoulder. “Poor girl is exhausted.”

  “Aye,” said Father. “Em, I’m sorry our patrol took so long. We went farther out than we intended and we didn’t get back until the wee hours. The back door was open and I found tracks. None of the men hesitated to come out here to find you, even after an all-day march.”

  The men nodded at him, raising hands in salute.

  She stared guiltily at the ground. “Thank you, everyone, but you were gone for three days.”

  “Poor child,” said Kavan. “She’s had a fright.”

  “Good ta find ‘er in good ‘ealth,” said Filner, triggering another murmur of agreement from the men.

  “Da, it made itself sound like you an’ put everyone sleeping.” Emma mumbled through a tale of how it led her from the house by impersonating him. Her yawning and eye rubbing throughout made them react as if she had dreamed it all. “… but one goblin was still alive. It tried to trick me.”

  “Goblins?” blurted Father, all of a sudden interested. “We cleared a goblin camp that was too close to town.”

  Emma blearily described what she saw there. Kavan and her father exchanged worried looks.

  “I thought you said you’d cleared all the tar snares,” said Father.

  “Buggers play possum sometimes,” grumbled Arnir.

  “Obviously, we missed one.” Haim shrugged.

  “You really were gone for three days,” muttered Emma. “Mother wouldn’t eat. No one could find you. Not her, not Nan, not the animals.”

  Kavan raised an eyebrow. “Three days? Impossible, the sun’s only just set.”

  The other men kept quiet.

  “Em,” said Father, brushing a hand over her head. “You are exhausted.”

  Emma folded her arms. “You will see. When we get home, everyone will tell you the same. The Banderwigh made you get lost so it could get me.”

  Something in the look she gave him kept his words stalled in his mouth. She set her jaw. He looked at the dead man.

  Captain Dalen trudged over to the body, twisting to keep Emma from seeing it. “This is no monster, at least not in the sense you’re thinking of him. It was an evil man.” He choked up, hugging the air out of her and kissing her atop the head. “I’m so glad I found you before he could hurt you.”

  Red eyed, Emma wept. “You didn’t have to kill him. He was trying to thank me for setting him free.”

  “Well, he’s free now.” The coldness in Filner’s voice made her glare at him.

  “Gonna take this back, see if anyone knows who he was. That head’s like a mirror. Might be enchanted. Sell for quite a coin in Calebrin. Will split it with the lot of you men.”

  The guards grinned and raised their arms in salute.

  Father stooped. Emma wriggled around to look as the ground came closer. Father’s hand opened, moving towards the handle of the Banderwigh’s axe.

  “No!” She shrieked. “Don’t touch it!”

  Emma thrashed with such ferocity Father had to use both arms to contain her. She beat her fists against his chest, wailing as loud as her voice could get.

  “Da, No! Don’ touch it! It’ll make you into a Banderwigh! You’ll die!”

  “Shh.” He stood and moved away from the axe, patting her back and holding her head to his shoulder. “Easy, girl. Shh.”

  She quieted to sniveling, grabbing around his neck rather than banging on his armor. Emma calmed, whispering. “Please, don’t let anyone touch it. You use Mama’s potions; you have to believe in a little magic.” She sobbed. “Papa, don’t.”

  Her eyes closed with the comfort of his hand stroking through her hair. She hung there, halfway between feeling safe and wracked with guilt over what her father had done. Now, she knew how Kimber must have felt. Father did things she hated, but she still loved him. Her contentment evaporated as his neck pulled away from her arms. Guard Kavan, the only man larger than Father, took her into a firm hug. Emma’s eyes widened with horror as Father smiled at her and patted her cheek.

  “You need to sleep, Emma. It’s time to go home.” He shifted his gaze to Kavan. “Hang onto ‘er for a moment.”

  An iron hug held her fast as Captain Dalen trudged back over to the axe. He stooped, reaching for the handle.

  “Daddy! No! It’s evil!”

  He looked back over his shoulder, shaking his head with disbelief. “Evil…”

  As he thrust his arm to grab it, a loud squawk made all the guards except Kavan jump. Father, perhaps on edge from his daughter’s words, fell back on his rear end. A great raven sailed down through the trees, skimming two feet from the ground, headed right at him. He backpedaled, grabbing for his sword at the unusual behavior of a bird.

  The bird glided by in silence and landed a foot or two past the Banderwigh axe. It spun about, flaring its wings and squawking at him.

  “Nan!” shouted Emma, crying from joy.

  “The girl’s delusional,” muttered Kavan.

  The raven spun about, covering itself with its wings. Amid a swirl of ghostly white light, the figure grew into Nan, with the sound of distant rushing wind and a flurry of loose feathers. Kavan’s arms fell slack from shock. Father’s sword had made it only four inches out of its sheath. It slid back down with a clack as he sat there, frozen. Emma slipped to the ground and sprinted on unsteady legs, colliding with her grandmother. Despite her lack of a cane, the old woman weathered the impact of a frantic child without issue.

  “The girl is quite right, Liam. I wouldn’t touch that.” Nan adjusted her sleeves and folded her arms. “Had you grasped that handle, you would have become another Banderwigh and killed all of these men.” She thrust a knobbed finger at the corpse. “He, too, was once like you, searching for a taken child.”

  Father glanced at the dead man, moving only his head.

  “He took the axe and evil got him,” said Emma, breaking away from Nan. She retrieved Nan’s dagger and put it on her belt before leaping onto her father. “It almost got you.”

  Captain Dalen looked up at Nan, mouth still open. His arms closed around his daughter without thought, an unconscious reaction to the presence of a crying child. The men regarded the old woman warily, shifting around.

  Emma shifted, sitting in Father’s lap. “Nan…” She pointed at Greyfang. “The Banderwigh almost cut my head off. They saved me.”

  “It tried to kill you?” Nan gasped. “That is most unusual.”

  Moonsong raised her head at Nan’s approach, mystifying the guardsmen with her lack of hostility. Nan crouched by the injured animal, one hand hovering. She muttered, too low for Emma to hear, and the alpha’s entire body glowed with green light for several seconds. Air carrying the scent of a cool spring morning rushed by, the wondrous fragrance gone as fast as it appeared. Greyfang leapt upri
ght, nuzzling with Moonsong, who whined low before bowing her head at Nan. Father went to push Emma behind him as the enormous wolf looked at them and walked over.

  “Do not fear, Father.”

  She combed her fingers through the soft fur of Greyfang’s cheeks and touched foreheads. “Thank you.”

  The other wolves emerged from their hiding places, gathering around Nan, who tended to their injuries. Emma leaned into her father, smiling and ready for sleep.

  “Let us assume that this weapon is dangerous.” Father’s voice, so close to her ear, shocked her awake. “What shall we do with it?”

  Nan sent the wolves on their way and shook her head. “You shall do nothing.”

  “We can’t just leave it here.” Kavan gestured at it. “If it’s, uhh, evil.”

  “I do not intend to, my boy.” Nan gathered her sleeves up and ambled over to where the cursed weapon lay. “You doubt it is evil? Look at the ground.”

  The dirt beneath it had turned black, creeping ever outward.

  Old hands waved through intricate patterns. “Linganthas, spirit of the wood, hear me. Send forth your power. Destroy this affront against life.”

  Energy charged the air, though nothing visible occurred for several seconds. The ground at Nan’s feet bulged and split to reveal a pair of thorny roots larger than a man’s arm, which wrapped about the axe. Nan continued gesturing over it as the roots twisted and thickened, engulfing the weapon. The mass darkened from dirt brown to iron black, constricting and crushing until a deafening crack of breaking wood thundered through the entirety of the forest. Thin beams of white energy leaked through the seams of the writhing knot, followed by a blast of cold.

  Everyone stayed silent as the lump sank into the earth.

  Emma wobbled upright and trudged over to hold her grandmother’s hand. “Nan?” She sniffled and pointed at the dead man.

  A leathery hand gathered Emma’s hair and pulled her close. “Do not blame your father, Emma.” Nan looked among the guardsmen. “Our kind can be monsters too.”

  mma held on to Father as the men marched through the forest. The late hour and harrowing chase left her too exhausted to think. Nan, as a raven, sailed over them above the treetops. The old one had no patience to walk all the way back to town. Quiet from what they had seen of magic and curses, the other guards kept their attention to the passing trees, watching for threats.