[Mkguild] Healing Wounds in Arabarb (30 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias


Machias was very grateful that he'd had a little something to eat 
before he'd left the mill. After an hour of flying north, following 
the forest tracks the tundra men had told him about, he felt sore but 
not exhausted as he feared he would. Without so little light he had 
trouble distinguishing the tracks and roads through the woods, but 
his eyes did adjust just enough so that along with his memory, he was 
able to follow the paths from above without having to circle 
constantly to find them again and again.

The cloud cover began to break up after he'd been flying for nearly 
two hours. Dawn would come soon, but still he had not seen a hint of 
the men from the north. They had assured him they would reach 
Fjellvidden that day with ease, but the puffin knew it would take 
them twice as long to hike those paths as it did for him to fly over 
them. He started to despair of them reaching the city in time to help 
Elizabaeg.

Then, through a tight bend in the road, shielding on all sides by a 
cavalcade of stone that jutted through the clustering trees like a 
drowning man's hand breaching the water one last time, he saw a dozen 
dogs milling about with a pair of thickly clad men watching them. His 
wings cramped even as he turned to swoop down and land amongst them.

He cawed and flailed his wings as best he could as he banked 
haphazardly over the treeline and into view of the shelter. The dozen 
snow dogs and two men all looked up. In the light of the single torch 
the one man carried Machias saw a familiar face and felt a surge of relief.

Somehow, despite the sudden pain in his back, he managed to land on 
the top of one of the upthrust rocks. He tumbled down the side until 
he landed against the broad base of a sheltering pine. He stood, 
shaking his head and his back to get the needles from his feathers.

"Machias," the one man said with a gentle laugh. "Is everything all right?"

"Now that I've found you, Thuring, it may be. We've got a plan to 
enter by the eastern castle gate. The men from Fjellvidden and from 
the south are there already. We have to be there before dusk though 
because that's when the guard changes." He gasped for breath and 
slumped back against the tree. One of the dogs circled around and 
sniffed at him curiously. He batted at the large canine's nose with 
one wing. The first time they'd met two months ago the dog had tried 
to take a bite out of his wing, but Thuring had taught them to treat 
the puffin as a friend.

Thuring and his friend glanced at each other as they gathered the 
dogs. "We're breaking camp even now. We'll just ride a little harder 
to the bridge now. Come on, you can ride with me. You can tell me 
more along the way."

"Thank you!" Machias hopped back to his webbed feet and then onto the 
large northerner's arm. Together they went back into the shelter of 
the rocks to where the rest of the men and horses waited. Only a few 
of their tents remained standing as they hurried to stow their gear. 
Seeing those burly men made indomitable by the bitter, northern 
winters, winters that made anything that happened at Metamor seem a 
balmy summer day, gave the puffin hope again.

They just might be able to win this fight after all.

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The tanner's trail was not difficult to follow, but it was twisted 
and doubled-back on itself several times. The man had made sure that 
he had not been followed and done his best to look like he was going 
everywhere but where he was going. But his path led Gmork's pup 
inexorably westward. They darted along on all fours as the clouds 
above began to disperse and the stars of night revealed themselves 
for one last glimmering shine before the dawn dismissed them as if 
with a flick of the wrist.

Eventually the path led them beyond the last line of homes that 
clutched to the city's crumbling walls and passed into the scattered 
copses of trees newly grown at Fjellvidden's western periphery. They 
did not follow the east-west road, but moved south along old beaten 
tracks toward the old mill abutting the smaller river whose name 
Gmork's youngest did not know.

They stopped and hid themselves within a copse of trees that afforded 
them a good view of the mill. They could hear the groaning of the 
waterwheel as it turned, the firm press of the river as it rushed 
headlong into the Arabas, and a gentle breeze moving through the 
upper floor of the building. The mill was built on a stone 
foundation, but, mostly it was wood and it creaked with each turn of 
the air. They saw no lights, but they could smell not only the 
tanner, but several other people as well.

The pups looked at each other, their long snouts breaking in hungry 
grins. The younger licked his nose and cast a quick glance at the 
mill before turning back to his older brother. In a quiet whisper, 
more wolf growl than human voice, he asked, "What now?"

His brother wagged his naked tail, paws digging at the ground as his 
eyes narrowed and his ears folded back against his head. "Wait, watch 
and listen. They have nowhere to go. I am going to cast eyes. I'll 
see everything but they will not see us."

The youngest waited, panting slightly as his brother slid away and 
back around the trees a good distance from the mill. After his 
brother was gone to sight, he crouched low and allowed his body to 
melt back into a more human guise. The fur retracted over most of his 
flesh apart from his tail, his pointed, mobile ears, and along strips 
of his legs. His canines were sharp and long but the rest of his 
teeth were human enough. He straightened out his robe where he lay, 
taking care to make sure the heraldry over his left breast was 
unmarred by either crease or dirt.

Once satisfied, he returned his undivided attention on the mill. His 
father's enemies were hiding in there. It both saddened and 
infuriated him that any would hate his father.

Far above the sky brightened with the promise of dawn. He swallowed 
and waited anxiously for his brother's return.

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His head didn't hurt and he felt warm and well rested. That was the 
first thing he felt after arising from the darkness of 
unconsciousness. Blinking his eyes, he saw a long orange beak in 
front of him and above a brightening sky. To either side were a pair 
of bearded men staring down at him. The one on his right had a red 
beard that went down his chest, and he wore a horned helmet that came 
just over his brow.

Quoddy squawked in pleased surprise, "Gerhard!"

The trapper shook his head and put a finger to his lips. In a quiet 
voice he said, "It is good to see you too, Quoddy. Sorry we had to 
knock you out. Had to make sure you weren't one of the mage's pets."

The gull blinked, as if that shouldn't have been his first concern. 
He tried to remember what he'd been doing last but it was all a blur. 
Something about flying until he couldn't fly anymore. "How... how can 
you tell?"

"I can," the other man, who looked similar to Gerhard only that his 
beard was peppered with gray as if it had been strewn with cobwebs. 
His eyes crinkled and his cheeks were lined where visible. But his 
brown eyes were bright with laughter. "There's a way to see it if you 
are a mage."

"But... but... I didn't know there were any mages here in Arabarb."

Gerhard nodded. "Harald is not a mage like the sort the Baron used to keep."

"Earth, trees, snow," Harald admitted with a strange sort of modesty. 
"If the Baron knew about me, he would have hunted me down. If Gmork 
knew about me, he'd make me one of his pups. But.. your friend 
convinced me to take that risk."

Quoddy blinked again and shifted about. Laying on his back was never 
comfortable and so he rolled onto his side, and then pressing with 
his wings and legs, managed to stand up. He fluttered his wings and 
folded them behind his back. Glancing around he saw that they were in 
a small culvert next to a stream with a small window through the 
trees open to the sky. For some reason that made him anxious but his 
thoughts were still so scrambled that he couldn't quite remember what 
it was. With them were several horses drinking the cold water, and a 
few other men who were more rugged than most he'd seen in this harsh 
country. He didn't recognize any of them apart from Gerhard.

"But..." the gull finally remembered one thing, "I thought you 
weren't going to come."

Gerhard nodded and stroked his beard braid with a half grin. "Changed 
my mind on the way back home, then I gathered Harald and a few other 
friends who've been in hiding for the last ten years, and we've 
ridden here as fast as we can. Just a few more hours of riding and 
we'll be at Fjellvidden."

"How... how did you find me?"

"You were making quite a bit of noise," Harald said with a warm 
gentleness that seemed so strange to hear from one of the 
northerners. "You and your brother."

Quoddy blinked and then stretched out his wings, standing a little 
taller and squawking louder than he knew he should. "My brother... 
Lubec! Is he... did you see him?"

Gerhard gestured at a sack a dozen paces away near a couple other men 
who were watching and carrying bows. Quoddy's heart froze in his 
chest and he almost jumped into the air in his rush. But the trapper 
put a hand on his shoulder above the wing and held him back. "Don't 
be afraid. We didn't kill him. Just knocked him out like we did with you."

"He is one of Gmork's," Harald said with a heavy sigh. "I hate seeing 
what that monster has done to our people and yours. Your brother... 
that only makes it worse."

"You... you healed my head and you gave me my strength back, right?" 
Quoddy asked, feeling his mind start to clear at last. He glanced at 
the mage and tried to speak respectfully in his impatience. "Could 
you... help my brother?"

His heart fell again after rising so swiftly in hope. Harald shook 
his head slowly and frowned like a father at his son' funeral. "There 
is nothing I can do. Gmork's magic is too powerful."

"Please don't kill him! He's my brother. There has to be a way to save him."

"There may not be," Gerhard pointed out with morose resignation. "At 
the very least we'll keep him alive until we've killed Gmork. That might work."

"The magic controlling your brother is connected to something," 
Harald added with a sigh. "I cannot see what. It might be Gmork's 
lifeforce, and if he dies they could be freed. There are many we know 
who have also become his. We don't kill them either for that same hope."

Quoddy glanced at the sack and noted that it was shaped like a bird 
the same size as his brother Lubec. He took a step toward him but 
only a step. "I'd like to see him."

"It's best if you don't," Gerhard whispered sullenly. "He's sleeping 
right now, but we don't want him to wake just yet. Not until we've 
decided what to do." He glanced at the sky which was a deep blue 
steadily brightening. "Dawn will be here soon. Things are not going 
well in Fjellvidden are they?"

"Nay," Quoddy admitted. "They captured Lindsey and us. Pharcellus 
rescued Machias and I, but Lindsey is still captive. Elizabaeg is 
free, and I sent Machias to the mill where she's supposed to be. I 
led Lubec away, but... that's all I know. But... if we don't do 
something Calephas and Gmork will win and you'll never be free and 
I'll never get my brother back. And Lindsey... they'll kill him!"

"Calm," Gerhard advised and held out one hand. "We are not cowards. 
We've come this far, we'll go the rest of the way. If we're going to 
die then we'll make them bleed for it." He stood, walked over to the 
man crouched near the sack and whispered in his ear for several 
seconds. When he was finished, the other man stood and mounted a 
nearby horse. While he gained his bearings, Gerhard lifted the sack 
with Lubec and handed it to him.

Quoddy craned his neck to watch, before turning back to Harald. "What 
is he doing?"

Harald smiled and wrapped the end of his beard around one finger. 
"Lubec can't stay with us. As soon as he wakes, he may be able to 
warn Gmork. Don't fear; he'll be fine."

He turned to object, but the rider gave his steed a kick and the 
horse bolted off across the stream out into the west. He disappeared 
within the woods before the gull could even squawk in anguish. His brother...

Gerhard's expression was determined and flat when he returned to 
their side. "Time for us to go too. Quoddy, you'll ride with me. Come."

The gull let out along breath and, with nothing else he could think 
to say or do, meekly followed Gerhard to his horse. At least he'd 
found friends; unexpected but very welcome. His brother would be as 
safe as they could make him. With that comforting thought in mind, he 
flew up to Gerhard's saddle horn and gripped it as tightly as he 
could with his webbed toes.


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

Charles Matthias


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