The noble scars, p.24
The Noble Scars, page 24
“Aye, I know what to do.”
The giant fell asleep while Zerin watched Thia continue her prayers, her head steadily bobbing up and down, her lips pleading for the pirate’s soul. He marveled over her efforts to save a man who terrified her. If it wasn’t for her, Zerin would have killed him by now.
After an hour of peaceful chanting, the pirate seemed to calm, his eyes were closing. Before long, he had lost consciousness, his head slumping forward.
“Quickly,” Thia said, rising to her feet. “Untie him from the tree but leave his hands and feet bound.”
She spoke so assertively that Zerin didn’t question her. Then Thia sat up against the tree in a similar position to the pirate.
“Bring him to me and place him in my lap.”
Zerin stared at her, clearly uncomfortable with the request.
“Do it!”
Reluctantly, he obliged, placing Escura in her lap with the back of his head against her chest. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and resumed her prayers, her head moving back and forth ever so slightly. Zerin stood watching, gripping the hilt of his sword, ready to strike down the pirate should he wake in a fury.
Thia’s efforts continued for several more hours until the sun crept over the peaks, flooding the valley with its warm embrace.
In his sordid past the pirate had awakened from nights of revelry in unfamiliar surroundings but never into circumstances as bewildering as these. To find himself bound by his hands and feet, in the embrace of the princess, was something he was unable to fathom but was most anxious to construe. His stirring woke the princess, who eked out a scream at the sight of the woken pirate in her lap, bringing Zerin and Galvin to their feet, weapons in hand.
Zerin pressed his sword into Escura’s throat. “Move, and I’ll kill you.”
“Zerin, look at his eyes. He’s returned,” the giant said.
Thia squeezed out from behind the pirate and got to her feet.
“How can we be sure it’s him?” Galvin demanded.
The pirate looked back at Zerin, careful not to move with the sailor’s blade at his throat.
“Regrettably,” Escura said, “I have no memory of spending the night with your woman, but I’m sure it was worth dying for.”
“It’s him all right,” the giant uttered.
Zerin cut his bindings and released the pirate.
“What do you remember?” Thia asked.
“I remember dreams like none other. I was trapped in a cave, and yet I didn’t seem whole; there was that same bloody stench. What the Belth happened to me?”
“You were possessed,” Zerin stated. “Something took over your body. You attacked with strength greater than Galvin’s. We were ready to kill you until Thia intervened. She saved your life.”
The pirate turned toward Thia, not knowing what to do or say. She was exhausted, ignoring him as she drank from one of the skins.
“How do you feel? Do you have any burns?” Zerin asked.
“Why would I have any burns?” Escura asked.
“Never mind.”
“I feel great. In fact I feel better than ever.”
“You’ve been cleansed,” Thia said.
Escura approached Thia, unsure of what to say. He had never indebted himself to anyone before, especially not a woman. Until now, they had never served any purpose but one. His mouth fell open before he spoke.
“When I find the proper words to thank you, I promise I’ll offer them.” Then he briskly walked away.
The princess smiled, knowing that was as close to gratitude that one could expect from Escura the Pirate.
They were anxious to get out of the forest, so they prepared a quick breakfast of dried meats and fruit, broke camp, and dragged their weary bodies back into the woods, continuing their journey through the Hills of Bardee.
Chapter 33
Maeldroth kicked a bucket full of animal blood across the floor of his lair. He watched it seep into the cracks between the cobbles. Sickened by what Thia had achieved, Maeldroth had been forced to forego his custody of Escura’s body. Years of practice of the dark application of spirit had been thwarted by the good intentions of a woman naïve to the power she wielded. No longer would he consider her to be an innocent spectator in the politics of Noble.
Enraged with his failure and stifled by the confines of his own dungeon, the wizard stormed up the stairs, seeking the outdoors to quell his rage. He sped down the hallways through the main levels but was intercepted before he could burst out the back entrance of the castle.
“Did he kill them?”
Maeldroth was in no mood to answer the king but decided to address the matter now. He quashed his rage and turned to face Bardek, presenting a facade that the greatest of thespians would applaud. “No, sire, the recent attacks did not achieve their goals, but don’t be alarmed; I’ve yet to exhaust my resources.”
The king stopped midstride, distraught with the news of yet another failure. “And why should I believe you? Nothing you have done against them has yet succeeded.”
“Not all battles are won on the first day.”
“Maeldroth, you have yet to win a single battle against Zerin, and my bride is still their captive. I shouldn’t have listened to you, damn it. I should have sent my troops as well!”
Maeldroth seethed behind his dark cowl, wanting to curse the king with a thousand plagues for questioning him, but presently, he couldn’t rest upon the stature of his accomplishments. For the time being, he was deserving of the king’s doubt, a thought that sickened him. He would accept Bardek’s admonishment but would not forget the disgrace of it. “It would seem this force I have felt among them is more prominent than I thought. But I know where they are, and I know where they’re headed.”
~
Their journey through the Hills of Bardee had generated more peril than anticipated. Demonic ghouls and a spiritual possession had provided them with their fill of excitement.
Thia would frequently glance at Escura, but he seemed at ease. He’d cast brief smiles toward her and then look away, ashamed of the sentiment like a bashful youth. Her fear of him was dissipating.
By midmorning, they were still a day away from clearing the hills, but they were optimistic.
To finish the journey, they would have to climb a ridge through a narrow passage between two of the larger peaks. Once they got through there, they would descend the other side, and the brunt of their excursion would be over.
At midday they reached a passage along a cliff wall that was so slender it would only permit one person at a time. They had to scrape their bodies along the cliff while shuffling their feet across the narrow shelf. The challenge of not looking down upon the rocky gorge beneath them was equal to the crossing itself. Tight grips were needed to combat the blowing winds. It took Galvin twice as long, walking on his toes to cross the path that was too slim for his enormous feet. More than once he slipped, only to catch himself by grabbing a tree root or a protruding rock.
When they had crossed, they were once again amid thick bushes. The mountain wall carried on to their left, porous with crevices and small caverns.
They trekked on, mindful of every step they took. Patches of moist fog began to grow, augmenting the silence.
Within an instant, the fog had thickened. Zerin could barely see his own feet. He called out to Thia, but she didn’t reply, so he yelled louder. She yelled back to Zerin, her voice sounding like it was a hundred paces away even though she was standing right beside him before the fog hit. Zerin called out to the others, hearing faint replies in return. The mysterious fog had not only robbed them of their sight, but it had deadened their voices as well.
Zerin continued to call his comrades, shuffling toward their faint cries with his sword held out before him until he heard someone scream.
“Stop!” Thia yelled. “No one move. Not a single step until the fog clears.”
For several moments, they held their ground, obeying the command of their female cohort.
A breeze picked up. It got stronger and colder and managed to blow the fog away. Zerin, along with Galvin, Escura, and Thia were spread out upon the ridge’s edge, their toes damn near hanging off the edge of the mountain. Had Thia not stopped them, their journey would be over.
Chapter 34
The steep descent into the valley was filled with jagged outcrops, mossy rocks, and narrow trails, but the sight of the plains below that led to Fergasmythe kept their resolve strong. By the end of the day, they would be free of the Hills of Bardee and all its cursed predicaments. If not for Thia, they would not have survived any of them.
Zerin thought it fit to rest, especially since Galvin had been lagging, so they stopped at a small waterfall. Thia searched through her baggage for the last of her rations. She pulled out some dried fruit, bread, and smoked meat, which had been wrapped in burlap.
The food was enjoyed by everyone except for Galvin, who chose to forego the offering. Had anyone else displaced their appetite it might have gone unnoticed, but Galvin’s rebuff was cause for concern.
He sat wedged between two trees, his head slumped.
“Galvin, are you all right?” Thia asked quietly. “Are you not hungry?”
The giant said nothing.
She stared into his matte of blond curls before placing her hand under his chin and lifting his head. His face ran with sweat, and his color was wrong. “Galvin, you are not well!”
“I’ll be fine,” the giant gasped. “I simply need some rest.”
“Let me see those wounds.”
“They’re fine!” he snapped.
“Let me see them.”
Thia lifted the giant’s massive left arm to see a patch of fresh blood soaked into his tunic. She pulled away his shirt to inspect the wound in his ribs.
“When did you get this?” she asked.
“Back at the castle.”
“But that was days ago.” She quickly turned to Zerin. “He’s lost a lot of blood.” She reached out to touch his face. “He has the fever. We have to take care of this wound.”
“I’m fine,” the giant said. “I just need some bloody rest!”
“It’s not safe to stay here,” Escura said, turning to Zerin. “We must move on.”
“I agree,” Zerin said. “We can look after him once we’re free of the hills in half a day’s time, or perhaps at Fergasmythe or—”
“I’m sorry,” Thia interrupted. “I didn’t know you’d studied the arts of healing. Please, tell me how we’ll mend him in one day’s time when he’s dead.”
“Thia,” Zerin said condescendingly, “sometimes warriors have to travel with pain. It’s a part of war.”
“Come here!” she said to Zerin, dragging him by the arm toward the giant. “His lung is punctured, and he’s bleeding internally. This redness you see around the edges of the wound is an infection that’s already set in. His fever is a sign that his body is trying to fight it. It’s not a matter of how long he can go…” She shot a consoling look toward Galvin before turning back to Zerin. “He’s dying. If I treat him here, I might be able to save his life. Zerin, I know this as well as I know anything.”
Zerin looked at the giant, watching him struggle to breathe. “What do you need?”
“I have needle and thread, but I need clean water and special roots from the woods. We’ll also need a fire. We’ll be staying the night.”
Escura and Zerin glanced at one another with equal frustration before setting off to find the ingredients as per Thia’s instructions.
Once they had gathered the necessary materials for Thia and lit a fire, Thia went to work treating the giant. She cleaned his wounds with water and moss, then tore up her shawl to use for dressings, soaking them in the disinfecting solution she made from the roots. Galvin’s discomfort grew with each moment. He writhed in pain every time he moved. They tied the cloth around his chest with tree vine.
Thia concocted a distasteful tea that she forced him to drink. Then she wrapped him in all the available linens and huddled him close to the fire. She made him as comfortable as possible so he might sleep through the fever and hopefully the night.
Darkness came upon their campsite as the giant dozed. Zerin and Thia rested against a tree. They watched the pirate as he collected wood to feed the fire, marveling at the change in his demeanor. It would seem Thia’s efforts to recover his soul had a profound effect upon him. No one before had likely gone to such lengths to care for him as she had through the night of his possession, and now, she was caring for Galvin in much the same way.
Zerin reached down and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. He had known few women in his life, but he had never known love. He would die before he’d allow the wizard or Bardek to harm her. He decided right there that she was never returning to the castle, ever. She would stay at his side throughout the rest of their journey, regardless of the peril.
Having to deal with the ghouls and Escura’s possession hadn’t given Zerin much time to think about secrets and prophecies, but he found his thoughts drifting toward them again as he reflected upon their approach to Fergasmythe and the search for the missing scrolls of Janith. He’d put a lot of faith in the old prisoner’s message and wouldn’t entertain thoughts that the deranged old man might be wrong or that the scrolls were no longer there. He’d come too far to reach a dead end now.
Thia snuggled up close to Zerin and tossed her cape over the two of them. She closed her eyes and nodded off. Zerin could feel the warmth of her body flowing through his. He prayed the pounding of his heart didn’t wake her. He had never been this close to a woman before, ever. Eventually, they fell asleep in a slumberous embrace.
But in the middle of the night, Zerin was woken by Thia. “Come quickly,” she said, “I need your help.”
Zerin scurried over to Galvin’s side.
“His fever is worsening. See how he sweats? Yet his skin is cold as winter.”
“What should we do?”
“Gather all the clothing and remaining blankets, including my cape.” Thia cleaned his wound once more, and then removed the linens that Galvin was wrapped in. “Now turn your back.”
“What for?”
“Just do as I ask.”
Zerin turned his back and listened while the ruffling of linen and cloth went on behind him, anxious to know what she was doing.
“You may turn around.”
Never would he have predicted what he saw.
“Now cover us up, starting with the lightest linens and finishing with the heaviest.”
Zerin looked down on the ground to see Thia half naked, wrapped up inside the giant’s arms. The two of them lay on their sides with Thia’s bare back pressed up against the giant’s bare chest; a position Zerin had yet to share with her.
She had pulled her top over her head to expose her back but kept her front covered.
“He needs my body heat. Now cover us up and stoke the fire.”
“You’re going to get very hot in there.”
“That’s the idea. If I can’t warm him, he’ll die.”
Zerin placed the last blanket over them, leaving just enough space for her to breathe. She could barely be seen inside the giant’s grasp.
“Hopefully his fever breaks by morning.”
“Even if it does, he’ll still think he’s dead.”
“Why do you say that?”
“If he wakes to find you half naked in his arms, he’ll think he died and has gone to the Great Realm.”
Thia flashed Zerin a quick smile then closed her eyes. Zerin stoked the fire and lay down alone, wishing it was he who was dying of a flesh wound.
Chapter 35
Galvin stirred by the fire without a trace of explanation for his predicament. He had awakened to unfamiliar surroundings before, after revelry of ale and festivity. The uneasy stomach and raging headache he was accustomed to, but by no means could he explain the presence of a half-naked woman nestled in his bosom. As he shifted and rubbed his eyes, he realized the woman was Thia.
Bloody Belth. I’ve died and gone to the Great Realm.
On the other side of the camp lay Zerin and Escura, sound asleep. Galvin’s motion woke Thia, who quickly pulled her shirt over her head and covered herself up. She jumped to her feet and placed her hand on his forehead. She looked under his bandage, then into his eyes and gave him a smile after cupping his cheek. “You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”
The giant stared at her for the longest time, and then replied, “Please tell me we didn’t get married and I’ve forgotten about it.”
Thia smiled, then laughed, as did Zerin and Escura, who had both awakened.
As Thia moved to the riverside to clean herself up, Zerin explained the events of the previous evening to Galvin and how the princess had saved his life.
When she returned to the campsite, the giant was at a loss for words, and like the pirate before him, he lacked the means to express his gratitude. Thia approached him with fresh bandages and more of the healing mixture. She knelt to re-dress his wound, looking him straight in the eye, and still he said nothing.
Thia could sense he was vulnerable. “You must be greatly revered in your town for the sacrifice you made by pretending to be Maeldroth’s monster. You are not the killer I once took you for. Why would you take on such a burden? What did you owe those people?” she asked while dressing his wound.
The giant leapt to his feet, almost knocking her over. “I owe them nothing! Neither do I owe you an explanation.”
Thia stood up. “You’re right. You owe me nothing, just as I owed you nothing when I tended to your wound last night, but I did it anyway. Tell me, how is it a man of your stature managed to remain hidden for so many years? We know nothing of you. Who were your parents? Where are you from?”
The giant paced, restless and agitated, before yielding. He sat down on a log, took a deep breath, ran his hand through his thick golden locks, and spoke. “I was raised by a man I called Uncle. He told me my parents died when I was young, in some type of skirmish. I asked more about them when I was older, but he was vague with his answers. I sensed he was lying, but I didn’t care. He was a good man and raised me like his own.
