[Mkguild] Healing Wounds in Arabarb (19 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias



The sliver of sky outside Lindsey's window 
revealed a world on the brink of twilight when 
the oaken door opened again. To his surprise the 
figure that stepped through holding a wooden 
spear that was curved to suggest a hook like a 
primitive guisarme was not the monstrous deformed 
man that had appeared earlier, nor any of the 
human soldiers that had arrested him, but a Lutin 
dressed in a fur vest and cloak, with an array of 
knives shaped from bone around his waist and a 
necklace of finger bones prominently displayed on 
his chest. He waved the guisarme once in the air 
as yellow eyes narrowed to consider him. “Baron wants you now. Come.”

Lindsey was still curled up in the corner of the 
room farthest from the door with his face turned 
to the wall. Slowly, he uncoiled his limbs and 
managed to climb to his feet. The Lutin stared at 
him, eyes widening and narrowing as his thick, 
wide lips slipped over his pointed teeth and 
prominent tusk-like canines. Lindsey had never 
spent much time in the presence of Lutins – his 
last few encounters had all ended with the 
green-skinned savage's sudden death – so was not 
quite sure what to make of the odd expression on this one's face.

There was a trio of Lutins behind him who from 
the way they shadowed the one wearing the 
necklace of finger bones were his subordinates. 
The lead Lutin taped the but of his guisarme on 
the stone just inside the doorway and they fell 
back a pace. He walked backward three steps to 
allow Lindsey space to leave his cell.

“Why... where are you taking me.... I didn't do 
anything...” Lindsey murmured as he walked, 
keeping his arms very close to his chest.

“To see Baron,” the lead Lutin snapped. He felt 
the butt end of the guisarme against his back. “That way.”

Lindsey walked between the pair of human soldiers 
set to watch his door, with the four Lutins 
following close behind. They jostled a little but 
the leader, so far as Lindsey could tell, only 
needed to tense and bring them into line.

He tried not to be frightened by them, but for 
the first time in a long time, they were actually 
the same size as he was. Still, he reminded 
himself with every step, by this time tomorrow if 
all went well they'd all be dead or in flight. 
Calephas wanted him for his bed. And that's where the monster would die.

Their path through the castle took them up 
another few flights of steps and away from all 
the windows. He was brought at last to a hallway 
modestly apportioned but that must have at one 
time been fine, with draperies and old suits of 
armor betraying spots of rust. A carpet now torn 
in places but at one time a lush red, led to a 
large set of ornately carved doors with flambeaux 
on either side. Lindsey saw the forest, the 
mountains, the rivers, bear, elk, moose, and even 
dragons in the design. But to his surprise there were no guards.

The question was answered when the doors opened 
and a tiger Keeper dressed only in the sort of 
harness usually attiring plowhorses. His golden 
eyes were kept ever lowered, and his shoulders 
bent forward as he cringed away from the Lutins 
and the boy, holding the door open only to let them in.

“Your boy, Baron,” the lead Lutin announced as he 
gave Lindsey one last shove with the butt end of his guisarme. “We wait here.”

“Thank you,” a smooth voice spoke from where 
Lindsey couldn't see. Beyond the doorway was a 
room about twice the size of their room at the 
Inn in Vaar, the other end directly in front of 
him occupied by a bed draped in heavy quilt and 
two bear hides sewn together. To the left he 
could see a hearth crackling with a blaze that 
kept the air in the room very warm. A couple 
small chests and a writing table were also there, 
all resting on an old carpet whose colors were 
now faded. But of the speaker he saw nothing.

“Weaker,” that voice said again, this time with 
the sternness of command, “bring him to the bed and then wait by the door.”

The tiger kept his eyes and face downcast and 
then wrapped a meaty paw about Lindsey's arm. He 
was very strong and his claws poked at his skin 
ever so slightly. Lindsey looked into his face 
and wondered if this was one of the spies Metamor 
had sent, but that didn't seem to make any sense. 
Hadn't he heard something about another Keeper 
being taken prisoner not long ago? Is this 
mindless obedience another consequence of Gmork's magery?

Once he was dragged from the doorway he could see 
the rest of the room. The right side had another 
set of chest, a long table on which libations and 
various goblets were set, and other devices whose 
function and purpose Lindsey hoped he never 
learned. Before this table stood a tall man 
dressed in expensive furs neatly trimmed and 
holding a pair of small brass goblets in gloved 
hands. His coiffured hair was light brown with 
hints of gray, with cold-hardened cheeks and a 
slender but round Midlander face and complexion. 
His eyes were a soft blue that surveyed Lindsey 
with a predator's hunger. And buckled at his side was a rapier.

“I am Baron Garadan Calephas. You need not be 
afraid.” His eyes flicked to the tiger Keeper who 
picked Lindsey up and set him on the bed as if he 
were a sack of potatoes. “Of Weaker at least. Is his appearance frightening?”

Lindsey trembled and curled against the 
intricately carved headboard and nodded. He had 
to pretend like he'd never seen a Keeper before 
and he hoped his wide-eyed stunned expression was convincing.

The Baron took a few steps toward him but stopped 
halfway. He swirled whatever was in the goblets 
idly as he let his eyes pass between the tiger 
and the boy. “He's quite harmless. Strong, 
capable of violence should I wish, and certainly 
to protect me, but completely tame.” Lindsey 
swallowed heavily at the thought of having to 
subdue this enslaved Keeper in addition to the 
Baron. He'd have to be quick. He shook his head 
as he stared fixedly at the tiger. The tiger whom 
the baron named Weaker stood with head lowered 
like a marionette waiting for its strings to be pulled.

And then, with a sudden shout, he brought the 
tiger's ears up at least. “Weaker! My shoes.” The 
feline fell to the floor at Calephas's booted 
feet, licked the backs of his arms, and then 
began polishing the boots with his own fur. This 
he did very quickly and without any suggestion of 
irritation at so degrading a task. “Thank you. Wait by the door.”

Lindsey swallowed as the tiger backed up to the 
door and hunkered there beneath the lantern, 
bringing him into relative shadow. Calephas 
crossed to the bed and sat down a few feet from 
Lindsey. “You are mine now, child. I am going to 
enjoy your flesh and turn it to my purposes. Most 
likely you will not enjoy it. And it will hurt. 
Drink this. It will help with the pain and help 
you relax. There is no other way out of this, boy.”

Extending his right arm, he held out the brass 
goblet. Lindsey could see what looked and smelled 
like wine. He'd almost certainly tainted it with 
some drug that would make Lindsey completely 
unable to resist. He didn't dare drink it. He 
swallowed and looked from the goblet to Calephas. 
He didn't know how fast this man was with his 
rapier, but Lindsey was going to have to be faster.

Calephas stared at him over the top of the 
goblet, eyes transfixed and sharp as an eagle's. 
He turned the goblet back and forth between 
gloved fingers. “Take and drink this. It is not 
poisoned. I do not like dead boys. Do not believe 
me? Watch.” He tiled the goblet over his own and 
poured a portion of the wine into it. Then he 
drank from the goblet in his left hand and 
smacked his lips in satisfaction. “As you can see, I am well. Drink.”

Lindsey reached out his hands and took the goblet 
from Calephas. The man smiled, so sure and 
disgusting. The boy put the goblet to his lips, 
an let the liquid pour into his mouth. It tasted 
much like any wine he'd ever had. But as soon as 
the last drop passed his lips, he spat it straight into Calephas's face.

The Baron spluttered and fell backward, even as 
Lindsey jumped to his feet to grab the rapier and 
will himself back to his normal adult age. Only, 
he didn't quite make it to his feet. He fell 
forward onto his face and rolled onto his back, 
blinking as everything around him began to fall 
into darkness and all strength vanished from his bodies.

 From a distance, he could hear Calephas's voice 
growing ever further and further away. “The wine 
wasn't poisoned; that much was true. But the 
spell attached the goblet... well, that's why I'm 
wearing gloves. Spitting it in my face was...”

And then there was nothing.

----------

Strom had just finished putting all the sheep and 
pigs back in their paddocks for the night when 
Lubec landed in the window and then flew further 
in to perch on top of the wagon next to Quoddy 
and Machias. The cormorant stretched his wings 
and then warbled in delight, “Oh, I'm so glad you 
two are both here. Is this your contact? I 
thought there'd be more of you here.”

Quoddy glanced at the elderly Strom who was busy 
stroking one of his ewe's behind the ears. “The 
rest of them are staying elsewhere. There's not 
enough room here, and you know, better to keep 
our forces divided until we get the signal. 
There's less chance of the monster learning what we're up to that way.”

The cormorant stuck his beak into his feathers 
and groomed himself for a moment before leaning 
back and cawing softly. “That makes sense. My 
contact and his allies did the same. So where'd 
they go? We need to coordinate now if we're going to win this fight.”

Quoddy and Machias both shrugged their wings. “We 
don't know,” the puffin admitted. “Lindsey's mother is taking care of that.”

Lubec blinked and spread his wings a little in 
surprise. “Lindsey's mother? Wait, you mean 
Lindsey the timberman? That Lindsey? That's who Metamor sent?”

“That's right,” Quoddy replied. Behind him a pair 
of sheep started bleating anxiously. “And after 
spending a few days with him, I know he can do 
this. He's already gone into the castle. We just have to wait for the signal.”

Lubec hopped a few steps back along the wagon as 
more of the sheep began to bleat. The gull and 
puffin turned to look at them curiously. Strom 
touched one then the other, before lifting his 
eyes in horror. “Somebody's coming. Hide!”

But the cormorant shook his head. “My coming in 
here was a signal too. Just please don't fight.” 
As his brothers turned to stare at him 
dumbfounded, a dozen soldiers poured into the 
paddocks from front and rear. Two of them 
charging in the rear carried a net which they 
threw over the two birds. Quoddy and Machias 
squawked in horror as they beat their wings and 
tried to tear at the net with their beaks and 
claws. One of the soldiers bopped Machias on the 
back of the head with his fist, sending the 
puffin sprawling limply into the tangled net. 
Quoddy pecked at the soldier nearest him a few times before he too was struck.

The last thing Quoddy remembered was seeing his 
brother Lubec hoping up and down cawing angrily, “I said don't hurt them!”


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

Charles Matthias


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