[Mkguild] Healing Wounds in Arabarb (8 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

Huzzah, I remembered this morning.

Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias



The spot their dragon friend choose was a small culvert with a little 
snow-fed pond at the rear that dribbled out through the moss and 
grass clinging to the stone. It was just wide enough for the dragon 
to enter, but it would have been difficult for him to turn around. 
Once he had changed into his human shape, and attired himself in furs 
more typical of Arabarb, the three of them made their way down a set 
of natural stone steps until they passed into the trees. Quoddy 
shrank to the size of a normal gull and perched on Pharcellus's 
shoulders, gesturing with his beak which direction they needed to 
turn. To no one's surprise, the bird pointed to the west and the distant shore.

Even after they passed the tree-line, it took almost two hours of 
constant hiking before the ground leveled out and they found the pace 
comfortable and not so tiring. Lindsey constantly looked to the sky, 
but so near the mountains the sun was already absent. He wasn't quite 
sure how long they had before sunset, but he knew it couldn't be far off.

At times Lindsey was certain he knew exactly where they were, as the 
various trees and animal paths cutting through the underbrush looked 
familiar. There beyond that tight cluster of fir was a deer trail 
he'd once followed. There in that cairn of rocks a pack of wolves had 
once dwelt. And over there where the one poplar rose above a dell of 
mossy granite Lindsey had caught his first coney. When he saw these 
things he so badly wanted to turn and race through the familiar wood 
until he'd found his old home where his mother would be cooking and 
his father tending their beasts.

But then, the trees and rocks would all become strange and mixed up, 
arranged in positions that he did not know at all. Lindsey felt his 
hands clench and he had to fight the temptation to pick up the loose 
stones beneath his feet and fling them at the offending trees. This 
was his homeland; how could they be so confusing? One minute he knew 
them, the next they were strangers. It agonized him but what could he 
expect after ten years in a foreign land?

Lindsey looked up at the gull perched on his friend's shoulder. He 
remembered when Jessica had perched on his own those long months on 
their way to Marzac. He pushed a branch out of the way careful to 
avoid the needles, and asked, "Do you like my homeland?"

Quoddy blinked and turned his head to the boy before nodding his 
head. He grew in size a little, enough that Pharcellus gave him a 
nasty look as he shifted his weight. But it was just enough that the 
gull could speak intelligibly. "Oh aye, it is very beautiful. I loved 
watching Winter turn to Spring in this land. And I know it's just 
begun. The shore and the fjords are breathtaking. There's nothing 
quite like them to the south. I rather wish I had chanced coming this 
way before."

Lindsey felt himself blushing a little and turned his eyes back to 
the track through the woods. The afternoon was beginning to darken; 
twilight would be upon them soon, and so far he had not seen any 
clear sign of habitation. "You will like it in Summer. The fogs that 
roll off the sea, the many birds who sing the air to life, the sweet 
blossoms brightening our fields, it really is quite lovely."

Quoddy looked toward the sky, which they could just make out through 
intermittent breaks in the trees. Many here were quite tall rising to 
the heights of the lower towers in Metamor. But patches of blue were 
still visible through the throng of green and gray. "I have enjoyed 
meeting the few people I have here. Mostly I just watch them and 
listen." He paused and looked back down, staring at his webbed feet. 
"I'm very good at that. Most folks don't pay attention to a bird."

Curious, Lindsey asked, "What's it like being a sea gull?"

Quoddy tilted his head and shook out his wings. Pharcellus grunted, 
but glared in good humor at his rider. "Lonely much of the time. 
Other than my brothers, most of the year I spend my time in flocks 
with other gulls. We fight for food, work together to chase off other 
birds and other scavengers. I listen to fishermen a lot because they 
don't mind my company, even if they think I'm just a bird. They've 
shared their food with me before; at first it was a little 
humiliating, but... their food often tastes better than anything I 
normally scrounge." Quoddy sighed. "I wish I could stay at Metamor, 
but... my brothers and I just keep going back to the sea."

Lindsey felt strangely guilty. While those who were made either 
animals or children could not understand the pains that those like 
him who had their genders swapped, in much the same way, Lindsey 
found it hard to grasp the agonies that those like Quoddy endured 
with no hope of change.

After a moment of unsettled silence, Quoddy gestured to a small cleft 
in the ground leading between two boulders into a valley. "Through 
there. My contact lives down in here. I know this place."

Lindsey felt certain he knew this place too. Although it was a good 
distance from his old home, there was a growing recognition dawning 
in him. A faint recollection of scrambling over the rocks after her 
father with younger brother in tow, but as for where they ended up he 
couldn't bring to mind.

They passed through the boulders and quickly descended past banks of 
lingering snow, stepped over clinging roots and brambles, and emerged 
into a forested combe winding downward toward a meadow still lit by 
the setting sun. High trees gripped the edge of the combe on either 
side, and their shadows stretched long, reaching toward that meadow 
like the knives of a cutpurse stalking their next victim.

At the edge of the meadow they could see a thin trail of smoke 
rising, but not what made it. Quoddy nodded toward that smoke. "My 
contact lives there. We should make it with the sunset." So saying he 
shrank back down into his fully animal shape.

Pharcellus smiled a little and narrowed his deep blue eyes. "I don't 
know them myself, but one of my cousins has met them and said they 
were a good sort."

Lindsey looked up at the human dragon and chuckled. "You mean they 
liked dragons."

"That is a sign of a good disposition," Pharcellus trilled with a 
buoyant grin.

They shared the laugh, and even Quoddy cawed once, bobbing his head 
in good humor. After, they proceeded down the combe, navigating 
between the at first tightly constricting walls, before they opened 
out into a broad little ravine turning back and forth between two 
hills that leveled out at the base of a rocky defile. The stones were 
large and often covered in moss where they weren't buried beneath the 
earth. Lindsey wondered what Charles would make of them as he 
scrambled over their sturdy edges. He missed the rat just as he 
missed his other friends.

In all the shadowed places they found snow still packed, but large 
swaths of the ground were clear. In another month even those places 
still draped in wintry white would be clear for grasses and flowers 
and trees. Lindsey picked his path to stay out of the snow. The air 
was cooling as the sky darkened and behind them the mountains glowed 
in an orange twilight. Soon they too would be cold if they did not 
reach the cottage; there was no point in hastening their chill by 
striding through winter's remnants.

Nor did they have to in the end. Their path passed beneath another 
copse of trees before opening out onto a broad meadow with fresh 
grass and a profusion of flowers, bright yellows, oranges, blues, and 
purples swaying in the evening wind. Pharcellus took a deep breath, 
stretched out his arms and back, and smiled. "Oh, I love Spring here."

Lindsey nodded, kicking a loose stone that bounced into the grasses 
and disappeared. "I do too." He glanced to his right and left and 
quickly spotted the cottage with its trail of smoke rising from a 
stone chimney off to the west. A little pond with jumping fish 
nestled beneath a curtain of pine not thirty paces from the cottage, 
and a small rowboat was tied up against a little wooden shed. And 
laying before it was a black hound with droopy ears. As soon as they 
spoke he lifted his head and began to bay.

Lindsey continued toward the cottage anyway. The foundation was of 
stone as was the chimney, but the rest was made from wood and pitch, 
with thatch covering a roof of wooden planks fitted tightly together. 
A small stable was attached, but the hatches were already shut for 
the night and so they couldn't see if there were any animals within. 
Lindsey found it familiar but could not summon any specific memories about it.

 From out the main door, and carrying a bow with a fresh arrow in his 
hand was a large man with red beard coming down to his chest. He bore 
a horned helmet on his head from beneath which he scanned the meadow 
until he found them. He then drew the bow and held it steady. "Who 
are you?" he called in a deep rumble of a growl. "This is my land!"

"Peace," Lindsey cried, holding up his hands. Pharcellus did the same.

Quoddy leapt from his perch on Pharcellus's shoulder and flew toward 
the man and his baying hound. The man's grim expression softened when 
he saw the gull and he ever so slightly lowered the bow and released 
tension on the string. "Quoddy? Is that you?"

The gull landed a dozen or so feet in front of him, and just out of 
reach of the leashed dog, and began to grow in size. As soon as he 
was able to speak human words, Quoddy said, "Gerhard! It is I! These 
are friends. May we come inside?"

The grizzled man, Gerhard, lowered the bow and nodded. He waved one 
arm. "Come in! Let's get you three warm and something in you." 
Despite his welcome, the hound continued to bay urgently. He scowled 
and snapped. "Tash, be quiet!" The dark-furred hound flinched as if 
slapped and slunk back to his place next to the boat whining under his breath.

Lindsey and Pharcellus followed a waddling Quoddy inside the cottage 
and were shown places they could sit. A wooden table with a bench was 
pressed against the wall and across its surface various lures, 
knives, and some fish guts were spread. Over the fire roasted a large 
haddock spread across a salted plank and Lindsey felt his stomach 
growl at the scent. The floor was covered with bear skins, while fox, 
wolf, and elk pelts hung from the walls. Mounted above the hearth was 
the stuffed head of a bear. Another hound lay curled up near the 
fire, while a trio of younger hounds rushed to greet them with 
excited barks and yips. They all fell back after Gerhard clapped his 
hands at each of them.

But Lindsey got down on one knee and held out his slender fingers for 
each of them to sniff. The dogs came close and nosed at his hand 
curiously. And then they began to lick his fingers. Lindsey laughed 
much like a normal boy would.

Gerhard glared at Pharcellus. "Tell your little brother to sit down. 
Why did you bring him anyway?"

Before the dragon could object, Lindsey stood up and crossed his 
arms. "I, like Quoddy, come from Metamor. I may look like a child but 
I am not."

Gerhard frowned but nodded after a moment's reflection. "Oh yes, I 
see. Forgive my assumption. Please sit. I will share my meal with 
you, it looks like you could use a good meal. And you are welcome to 
stay the night. I have enough bedding for all of you."

Lindsey took a seat while the dogs returned to playing amongst each 
other. The one laying in the corner must be the mother, Lindsey 
noted, and the father was still outside. He studied the warm interior 
some more and noticed that there was more than one set of gear for 
both winter and summer. Timorous, he ventured, "Do you have a wife, 
Gerhard? Or child?"

Gerhard stiffened for a moment and then sighed. "My wife passed away 
two years ago. My daughter married a few years before and now lives 
an hour further to the west. My son..." His face grew dark for a 
moment and then he spat on the ground. "My son joined Calephas's 
army. I should have whipped him more when he was young. I let him 
have his way too much."

"I'm sorry," Lindsey said softly. "We will be grateful for your home 
tonight. And I want to see Calephas dead as much as you. Perhaps more so."

Gerhard's brow furrowed and darkened. "What have you against him?"

"He is ruling my homeland, and has attacked my adopted home too. I am 
from Arabarb, but I have spent the last ten years at Metamor. My name 
there is Lindsey. But I grew up Lhindesaeg perhaps a few hours from your home."

The man rubbed his beard and stared at the boy. "Lhindesaeg? A 
woman's name. I thought you were once a man and that Metamor made you a child."

"That is a magical ruse. I was a woman and Metamor made me into a 
man. You may have known my father, Alfwig, and my mother, Elizabaeg. 
They also had a son named Andrig."

Gerhard began to stare in wonder at the boy and his companions. 
Pharcellus sat with his hands in his laps looking at everything in 
the room with a cat's curiosity. Quoddy sat as if nesting on the 
wooden bench with his gray wings folded across his back and his 
yellow beak shut politely. Lindsey alone leaned forward to bring 
himself under their host's scrutiny.

Their host's face transformed from one of wonder to one of 
recognition and relief. His voice was not nearly so gruff when next 
he spoke. "Lhindesaeg, I remember you. Last time I saw you you were 
about as old as you look now. Your hair was a bit longer though. It 
is a relief to know that it is you. Welcome home, Lhindesaeg."

"Thank you, Gerhard," Lindsey replied with a smile. He was relieved 
that the man believed him. Or at least, he appeared to do so.

The man turned to Pharcellus, looked him up and down, and asked, "And 
who are you?"

He smiled broadly, a little impish twinkle in his blue eyes. "I'm Pharcellus."

"That's an odd name."

"For a human maybe. But I am a dragon!"

Gerhard stared at him, eyes wide and jaw gaping ever so slightly. He 
then turned to Quoddy and asked. "Is he telling the truth or is he insane?"

The bird nodded his head. "This is the one I was telling you about. 
He's the one who carries our messages back to Metamor. I didn't know 
he could become human either until a few hours ago."

Gerhard swallowed heavily, turned the fish once, and then sat down on 
a three legged stool next to the fire, rubbing his forehead. "Very 
well, I believe you. You should not tell anyone else what you are. I 
take it that you two are trying to masquerade as brothers?"

"Aye," Lindsey nodded. "At least so long as it is safe for us to do 
so. It will be easier for me to move through Arabarb with a big 
brother to protect me."

Pharcellus frowned a bit, but his irrepressible good nature 
overwhelmed any misgivings he felt. Gerhard studied him with one eye 
and then shook his head. "We'll need to do something with his hair. 
No one will believe you are from our land if you do not braid your 
hair. And you look old enough to have a beard. You should grow one 
and braid that too."

The dragon in human form rubbed his smooth cheeks and chin, right 
down to the little dimple beneath his lips and narrowed his eyes. "I 
am not really human, even now. I am using a spell to make myself 
appear human. I cannot grow a beard like you. But I can change my 
spell a little bit so that I will have one."

Gerhard chuckled then, before turning to remove the haddock from the 
wooden slat and dumping it on a metal plate. He picked up a carving 
knife and split the fish into four sections of various size, then 
grabbed some bowls from a cupboard and slid a bit of fish into each. 
The smallest portion he gave to Quoddy who shrank into a normal-sized 
gull to eat.

After Gerhard offered a prayer to Yahshua asking for His blessings on 
their meal, they ate with their fingers and let the dogs lick them 
clean when they finished. He then poured each of them a bit of ale, 
even Lindsey, before going out to retrieve more wood for the fire, 
and to bring Tash his male hound inside for the night.

The hound was a little apprehensive at first, but warmed to them 
quickly once he knew they were guests and not intruders. Gerhard 
tossed a few more logs on the fire, including a couple branches with 
pine needles. The needles hissed and cracked, smoking prodigiously, 
but providing a pleasant odor to a cottage that smelled of a sweaty 
man, his dogs, and a few other animals they hadn't yet seen.

"All right," Gerhard said after sitting back down on his stool and 
holding a cup of ale in one hand. "I've fed you three. Lhindesaeg, 
you come from Metamor to help us. What are you doing here?"

Lindsey sipped the ale, but knew better than to have too much of it. 
He had a strong tolerance even as a young girl, but he wasn't sure 
how he would handle it yet as a young boy. "I learned some about the 
resistance here in Arabarb before I began my journey. What Quoddy has 
told us that is. I want to know everything I can before we continue."

The man stroked one of his beard braids. "What do you know already?"

The man was careful, Lindsey would give him that. "I know that the 
resistance has had to be very careful in the last year to avoid 
detection. I'm told that you are operating by word of mouth only for 
now. You each know two or three others in the resistance, and you 
pass messages back and forth. If somebody in the chain is taken 
prisoner, those who could be implicated flee for the wilds until they 
can settle somewhere else and begin again."

He kicked his legs back and forth, too short to reach the ground. 
While flying with Pharcellus he hadn't really noticed how small he'd 
become. Sitting at Gerhard's table and not being able to touch the 
ground drove home to him that he truly was a child. That and the fact 
that he had to resist the temptation to ask if he could play with the 
dogs. How did Father Hough ever get through a homily?

He took another sip of the ale and then set the cup behind him. "I 
know that you do have a few people still in Fjellvidden castle 
amongst Calephas's personal troops. But that their numbers are 
dwindling. Gmork has something to do with it. I didn't understand 
that part very well."

Gerhard spat at the fire. It hissed for a second then resumed its 
earnest crackling. "Calephas was very weak after the failed assault 
on Metamor. We were almost ready to overthrow him. Metamor's spies 
were providing us information, and we were collaborating on a plan. 
Calephas was... distracted it seemed with some artifacts he'd 
collected from his news allies beyond the pass. Bottles of strange 
potions. Nobody was quite sure what they were, although rumor has it 
he made the boys he raped drink them after he was done with them. We 
decided to strike once the first snows came; it would make it 
impossible for Calephas to retreat through the pass. We don't want 
our land back unless we can have his head on a pike on Fjellvidden's walls.

"But that's when Gmork came," Gerhard spat into the fire again, his 
face contorted into a rictus full of loathing. "Within days every 
Keeper had been found, and most of our men in the city were taken 
captive. Calephas's soldiers routed our hideouts nearby and destroyed 
the weapons we'd stockpiled. Our plans were in ruins. In the months 
that followed what was left of our organization was torn apart by 
traitors and by Gmork."

Gerhard tossed back the last of his ale and wiped the froth from his 
beard with the back of his hand. "We don't even know what he looks 
like. And the man who learned his name died shortly after passing it 
on. Arabarb will never know freedom again until that mage is 
destroyed." He turned his eyes to Lindsey who had to muster his 
courage to keep from shrinking from Gerhard's fierce gaze. "And 
that's why the resistance is so weak. But we are still here and we do 
know most of what is happening in the land."

"Would it be possible to gather the members of the resistance? At 
least those nearby so we could plan another attack?"

He guffawed, but bitterly so. "Another attack? Did Metamor make you 
crazy Lhindesaeg? Without total chaos amongst Calephas's forces, we 
don't have a chance."

"And if he's dead? If Calephas is dead, what order do you think there 
will be? Will that not be the perfect time to strike?"

Gerhard stopped laughed and stared long and hard that Lindsey. He 
poured himself some more ale, drank half the cup, and then fixed his 
guests with a very suspicious glare. "Just why did you come back?"

"I'm here to kill Calephas, Gerhard. I was sent by Metamor to kill 
him and Gmork if possible. I'd like your help."

"Quoddy, is this true?"

The gull bobbed his head. "My brothers and I were only sent to make 
contact with the resistance. We were told that others would follow us 
who would strike at Calephas. We're just messenger birds. Lindsey 
speaks the truth." The gull shook out his feathers and cawed. "I 
cannot abide what he's been asked to do, but I believe it."

Lindsey held up one hand and shook his head. "Please don't ask how I 
am supposed to kill him. I don't want to say just yet."

Gerhard turned his cup around in his hands and sipped. "You don't 
have to. You look like just the sort of handsome boy Calephas wants 
for his bed. He's a dog and dogs always like something to hump. I 
think you are in for a very unpleasant end if this is what you intend."

"Then it is my end! I am willing to risk it for a chance to kill him. 
I believe that I will." Lindsey put his hands in his lap to keep them 
from shaking. He could feel the warmth from the ale, but so far it 
was not making him dizzy or groggy, or even any more excited than 
usual. But the words and suggestion of what that monster could do to 
him managed well enough to make him nauseous. He looked at his 
countryman with what he hoped was an expression of fierce 
determination. "I want to meet with the other members of the 
resistance to know how much support and aid they can lend me. Once I 
kill Calephas, I am going to need your help to secure Fjellvidden and 
to make sure Gmork cannot escape. Both their heads will decorate 
pikes before I am done. But I cannot do it without your aid. There 
are too many soldiers and too many eyes. They need to be somewhere 
other than me. Do you understand?"

"Aye," Gerhard said with a long sigh. He finished his second cup of 
ale but did not immediately brush the froth from his beard. "But we 
cannot be both distraction and besiegers. We do not have enough men or arms."

"Men of Arabarb not having enough arms? That I do not believe."

Quoddy squawked and craned his neck forward. "What Gerhard means is 
that they do not have caches near Fjellvidden. They would have to 
bring them and risk being searched and put in the dungeon."

Lindsey frowned. "Ah, I understand now. So I have more to learn. And 
that is why I want to meet with the others in the resistance, at 
least some of those nearby. I need to know what can be done. That is 
best discussed with many heads and not just ours."

Gerhard tossed his cup in a metal bucket, leaned back against one of 
the elk hides hanging on the wall so that for a moment it looked as 
if his ears were transforming into those of a deer's, and crossed his 
arms. His expression remained dubious. "What is it you want me to do? 
I am one end of the web. Information we intend to send to Metamor is 
given to me, and I give it to Quoddy. He's a good young man, if oddly 
shaped, and I have enjoyed his company. But I am in no position to 
demand a meeting of others in the resistance. I can pass your request 
along, but nothing more."

"That is all I ask then," Lindsey interjected before his host could 
offer more provisos. "Send a message saying that I have asked for a 
meeting so that we can discuss what can be done. Nothing more."

Gerhard pondered for a moment, one hand reaching down to scratch at 
the head of his eldest male dog Tash. At seeing attention given, the 
three younger dogs all came running over, nuzzling at the hand to 
lick the fingers and push it over their heads. At that he withdrew 
his hand and sighed guardedly. "Very well, I will pass your message 
along, Lhindesaeg. I will make the journey tomorrow, and return with 
the answer on the day after. You are welcome to stay here until I return."

"Thank you," Lindsey replied, doing his best to keep the heavy sigh 
of relief from escaping his chest. Beside him, Pharcellus remained 
placid, more interested in listening to them than in adding his own 
thoughts. Even his blue eyes revealed nothing more than his usual curiosity.

To his left, Quoddy took a moment to preen himself before sticking 
his beak in his cup of ale and sucking some down. The seagull shook 
his head in a quick twisting motion to get the foam off his yellow 
beak. He then cawed, "Do you want me to let Lubec and Machias know 
what we intend?"

"Not yet. Not until we have more to tell." Lindsey glanced back and 
forth between his friends, and then around the cottage. His heart 
suddenly felt very heavy. "In fact, I think tomorrow we're going to 
do a little hiking ourselves. There's someplace I want to go and see. 
We'll be back tomorrow for when you return, Gerhard. Will the forests be safe?"

Gerhard shrugged and resumed petting his dogs. "As safe as they ever 
are. You shouldn't need to fear any of Calephas's soldiers. They were 
through here a week ago and probably won't return for another week."

"Have they left the wilds alone?"

"More or less," Gerhard admitted with a disinterested shrug. "They 
come through exacting taxes. I pay them in skins. A good number of 
his soldiers served Nasoj, but he has enough from Arabarb that skins 
usually work at keeping them away. When in the village I've heard 
them boasting how they caught the beasts themselves. I don't say 
anything. If it keeps them from hunting the woods, then we don't 
starve in winter. That was a problem right after Calephas took 
control. They raided and hunted until we had nothing except the 
scraps they gave us."

He got to his feet, pushed the dogs away and shoved another piece of 
wood into the stove. "It's what he wanted. Tried to break our spirits 
by making us beg for food. He did it again a few years ago, and 
that's when my Eivinda got sick. I nursed her through it but... she 
was never quite the same." He slammed the door to the stove shut and 
trembled. Nobody said anything, although one of the dogs nuzzled his 
leg and whined a bit.

Gerhard patted the dog on the ear and looked toward the roof of his 
modest cottage. "I want him dead and this land free again. I don't 
think you will succeed, Lhindesaeg. But I hope and pray that you do." 
He turned back to them an he smiled ever so faintly. "I will prepare 
sleeping mats for you. Finish your ale. Once I have seen to my 
animals we will turn in for the night."

Lindsey thanked him and watched him slip into the other room. His 
heart burned with anger and quivered with the weight of his 
responsibility. He felt a hand grip his shoulder and turned to meet 
Pharcellus's confidant and reassuring smile. Lindsey smiled in 
return, feeling some of that weight lift.

"And where are we going tomorrow?" Pharcellus asked in a low voice.

"Aye, where?" Quoddy wondered.

The boy's smile faded but lingered on his lips. "Where else? We're 
going to visit my home."

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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias


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