![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
f4f3Got back on the horse, again. 1,500 words, more or less, and I might try another chapter tonight if Celtic win. Besides, I want to know what the bald bastard has to say for himself
Chapter Four:
Of sulks and more swords, of leaving town under a pall, an unasked riddle answered and another asked. Of circles and fires.
“Tell him I’m not talking to him.”
Han looked at Erik’s back, then over his shoulder at BloodRaven’s face, and said nothing at all.
“C’mon old Man, we left town four hours ago. You can’t still be angry at me.”
Erik said nothing, just put a few more yards of dusty plain between him and the man behind him.
“Look, I don’t even know what I did wrong!”
Erik stopped dead, unable to believe what he had heard. He turned around to look at BloodRaven. The huge barbarian was scratching his beard, looking puzzled. He was backlit in the night by the crimson glow of the burned town. Erik winced. He had hoped they’d have put out the fire by now.
“Do you know where I should be now?”
“Tell me.” BloodRaven couldn’t care less, but at least he’d got Erik talking.
“In my palace, maybe, enjoying the last half hour of the sun setting over the crystal sea. The waters are splashed with crimson light that matches exactly the colour of my favourite red wine.”
“But…” began BloodRaven
“Or maybe keeping up the morale of the Harem. I keep a velvet bag full of ivory tiles, each decorated differently and each representing a single beauty gathered from every corner of this Flat Earth of ours.”
“Well if you’d only said…”
“Or at the very least, snug beneath a pile of furs at Jak-jak’s, picking fleas from my whore and considering throttling you to stop the snoring.”
“I don’t sno…”
“But no, thanks to you I’m freezing my arse off in the middle of a godsforsaken waste with no supplies, no shelter, and absolutely no chance of female companionship.”
“Ah,” said the barbarian, “But at least you have a new sword! That makes two, and a handsome new scabbard for it too. And the boy has a sword too. And I have a sword, in case I need another, and two quite lovely daggers, and,” he jiggled his money belt, “money to buy supplies when we get a chance.”
Erik subsided to the ground and shook his head.
“Did you have to kill them all?”
“They were stupid, they deserved to die!”
“God’s balls, man, if that was enough reason to deserve death you’d have been buried in a ditch by your mother before you’d drawn your second breath! Why are you following me anyway? Han has no choice –you torched the bar he called home, and the stable he slept in.” Erik stopped, puzzled. “Why did you burn the stable, by the way?”
“They killed your horse! I couldn’t let them away with that!”
“YOU killed my horse! You threw that dammed blade of yours through it when one of them tried to hide behind it!”
BloodRaven grinned. “Oh, that’s right, I did, didn’t I? Bloody good toss, too. You know why I’m following you. I need my other sword back. Truth to tell, with only one blade I’ve been a bit… testy. You might have noticed.”
Erik dropped his head into his hands. Yes, he’d noticed.
“It’s not as if we went hungry – I waited until you’d finished your stew.”
“Yes you did. Mostly so that you could find out if the stewpot would fit over the leader’s head.”
“And it did! Well, mostly, once I’d trimmed his ears.”
Hunched on the ground, Erik’s shoulders started to shake, and he fell straight back, his hands still over his eyes. The biggest of the bravos had probably been the most stupid, and he had spilled Han’s beer. His friends had shown more loyalty than he deserved. Still, it wasn’t a mistake they’d make again.
It was no good being angry with BloodRaven – the big man was only following his nature, or at least the nature his sword had given him. He wiped away his tears of laughter as discretely as he could, then sat up and looked around him. He’d stopped in the middle of a rough circle of stones, on the crown of a gentle rise. He consulted the Map in his head, and decided they’d walked enough for tonight. Half a day’s walk would take them to the last trading post before the mountains – assuming it was still in business. He’d last been here about 5 years ago, and Hef had been threatening to retire even then. In fact, Hef had just been plain threatening – rude, surly, and his finger a bit too itchy on the trigger of his crossbow. He’d have to make BloodRaven promise not to kill him…
“OK, we might as well stop here. Those stones would make a good anchor for our tents – oh wait, we don’t have any tents.”
BloodRaven waved his hand at him disgustedly, and slumped to the ground. “Leave it out. I apologised, didn’t I?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t.” He grinned. “Well, it’s not a thing I do lightly, or often. Tell you what, let’s get a fire going and I’ll tell you why the Hounds are after me.”
“Fair enough. If Han will contribute the firewood,..” He looked around, and the boy was already prowling amongst the stones, and was soon back with an armful of dead wood. Erik put his back to one of the stones, and indicated a flat area in front of him.
“Take a pew…” The three of them settled, and Erik reached into his jacket and drew out a small, corked jar. “I didn’t think Jak-jak would miss this.” He took a sip from the jar, and toasted the flames – “To the rocks of Empire”.
“And the Lady with the Smile,” came the reply from the other side of the fire. Han straightened up from laying the last few sticks, and flushed, either from the flames or under the curious stare that Erik turned on him.
“My mother used to make that toast, when a customer bought her a drink at the bar. I don’t know what it means…”
“Not many people do, anymore. But it’s nice to think that both are remembered, in this back-end of the fallen Empire, that the Stones and the Lady are not forgotten totally...” Erik’s voice faded, and he handed the flask to Han.
“Drink, boy, they’re worth toasting.”
Han swigged at the flask almost as if he was afraid not too, and started to hand it to BloodRaven.
“Steady, lad –has no one ever told you never to pass on a man’s flask without asking? Besides…”
BloodRaven smiled and half bowed, reached into his furs and pulled out a jug of ale.
“Whisky is all very well for the old, but beer is the stuff for a thirst.”
“You held on to that well. I don’t suppose you managed to grab a haunch of venison?”
“Afraid not. Just had room for the essentials. Now, about the Hounds…”
Erik interrupted. He probably should have kept quiet, but he couldn’t be bothered listening to a concocted tail of BloodRaven’s heroism, possibly involving stolen gems, slaughtered guards and a ravished princess, or some combination of all three.
“They started tracking you not long after you lost your blade. You don’t know why, or how they find you, if it isn’t by magic, but they’ve been turning up in groups of four every few weeks. And they’re getting better.”
BloodRaven frowned. “You’re right. And I’m not sure I like that. How do you know so much about them, anyway?”
Erik didn’t reply, stared instead into the flames. The fire was welcome to his bones, flickering tongues lighting the stone at his back, throwing its rough carvings into relief. Shadows hid his eyes, caressed his face. Figures seemed to curl about his bald head, feathered serpents and monkeys, gods and men. The sacred and the profane, and in that moment Han wouldn’t have like to have bet money on where Erik belonged.
“You ask me to speak of your curse? Here, in one of the six circles of the south, on the night of the dead moon, holding in your hand the Ruby Blade of BloodRaven? Do you really want to know why the Warlord sends his hounds for you, how they scent you down all the ways of the world, no matter where you hide, and how you must end this. You ask me this, here?”
BloodRaven looked into his shadow shrouded eyes, and his gaze did not waver.
“I ask this of you now, by right of the blade I bear, of the blood on my hands and scars on my back. I ask this of you.”
Han felt the hair rise on his neck, seemed to see a line drawn between the two, one leaning forward almost into the fire, the other with is legs crossed beneath him, his hands balanced on his knees.
Erik looked away from BloodRaven, into the flames, and then to the stones at the other side of the circle. He looked at Han, and then cocked his head as if listening, and then into the dark. He nodded, then, and half smiled.
“I won't tell you everything, but I believe I will tell you what matters.”
Chapter Four:
Of sulks and more swords, of leaving town under a pall, an unasked riddle answered and another asked. Of circles and fires.
“Tell him I’m not talking to him.”
Han looked at Erik’s back, then over his shoulder at BloodRaven’s face, and said nothing at all.
“C’mon old Man, we left town four hours ago. You can’t still be angry at me.”
Erik said nothing, just put a few more yards of dusty plain between him and the man behind him.
“Look, I don’t even know what I did wrong!”
Erik stopped dead, unable to believe what he had heard. He turned around to look at BloodRaven. The huge barbarian was scratching his beard, looking puzzled. He was backlit in the night by the crimson glow of the burned town. Erik winced. He had hoped they’d have put out the fire by now.
“Do you know where I should be now?”
“Tell me.” BloodRaven couldn’t care less, but at least he’d got Erik talking.
“In my palace, maybe, enjoying the last half hour of the sun setting over the crystal sea. The waters are splashed with crimson light that matches exactly the colour of my favourite red wine.”
“But…” began BloodRaven
“Or maybe keeping up the morale of the Harem. I keep a velvet bag full of ivory tiles, each decorated differently and each representing a single beauty gathered from every corner of this Flat Earth of ours.”
“Well if you’d only said…”
“Or at the very least, snug beneath a pile of furs at Jak-jak’s, picking fleas from my whore and considering throttling you to stop the snoring.”
“I don’t sno…”
“But no, thanks to you I’m freezing my arse off in the middle of a godsforsaken waste with no supplies, no shelter, and absolutely no chance of female companionship.”
“Ah,” said the barbarian, “But at least you have a new sword! That makes two, and a handsome new scabbard for it too. And the boy has a sword too. And I have a sword, in case I need another, and two quite lovely daggers, and,” he jiggled his money belt, “money to buy supplies when we get a chance.”
Erik subsided to the ground and shook his head.
“Did you have to kill them all?”
“They were stupid, they deserved to die!”
“God’s balls, man, if that was enough reason to deserve death you’d have been buried in a ditch by your mother before you’d drawn your second breath! Why are you following me anyway? Han has no choice –you torched the bar he called home, and the stable he slept in.” Erik stopped, puzzled. “Why did you burn the stable, by the way?”
“They killed your horse! I couldn’t let them away with that!”
“YOU killed my horse! You threw that dammed blade of yours through it when one of them tried to hide behind it!”
BloodRaven grinned. “Oh, that’s right, I did, didn’t I? Bloody good toss, too. You know why I’m following you. I need my other sword back. Truth to tell, with only one blade I’ve been a bit… testy. You might have noticed.”
Erik dropped his head into his hands. Yes, he’d noticed.
“It’s not as if we went hungry – I waited until you’d finished your stew.”
“Yes you did. Mostly so that you could find out if the stewpot would fit over the leader’s head.”
“And it did! Well, mostly, once I’d trimmed his ears.”
Hunched on the ground, Erik’s shoulders started to shake, and he fell straight back, his hands still over his eyes. The biggest of the bravos had probably been the most stupid, and he had spilled Han’s beer. His friends had shown more loyalty than he deserved. Still, it wasn’t a mistake they’d make again.
It was no good being angry with BloodRaven – the big man was only following his nature, or at least the nature his sword had given him. He wiped away his tears of laughter as discretely as he could, then sat up and looked around him. He’d stopped in the middle of a rough circle of stones, on the crown of a gentle rise. He consulted the Map in his head, and decided they’d walked enough for tonight. Half a day’s walk would take them to the last trading post before the mountains – assuming it was still in business. He’d last been here about 5 years ago, and Hef had been threatening to retire even then. In fact, Hef had just been plain threatening – rude, surly, and his finger a bit too itchy on the trigger of his crossbow. He’d have to make BloodRaven promise not to kill him…
“OK, we might as well stop here. Those stones would make a good anchor for our tents – oh wait, we don’t have any tents.”
BloodRaven waved his hand at him disgustedly, and slumped to the ground. “Leave it out. I apologised, didn’t I?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t.” He grinned. “Well, it’s not a thing I do lightly, or often. Tell you what, let’s get a fire going and I’ll tell you why the Hounds are after me.”
“Fair enough. If Han will contribute the firewood,..” He looked around, and the boy was already prowling amongst the stones, and was soon back with an armful of dead wood. Erik put his back to one of the stones, and indicated a flat area in front of him.
“Take a pew…” The three of them settled, and Erik reached into his jacket and drew out a small, corked jar. “I didn’t think Jak-jak would miss this.” He took a sip from the jar, and toasted the flames – “To the rocks of Empire”.
“And the Lady with the Smile,” came the reply from the other side of the fire. Han straightened up from laying the last few sticks, and flushed, either from the flames or under the curious stare that Erik turned on him.
“My mother used to make that toast, when a customer bought her a drink at the bar. I don’t know what it means…”
“Not many people do, anymore. But it’s nice to think that both are remembered, in this back-end of the fallen Empire, that the Stones and the Lady are not forgotten totally...” Erik’s voice faded, and he handed the flask to Han.
“Drink, boy, they’re worth toasting.”
Han swigged at the flask almost as if he was afraid not too, and started to hand it to BloodRaven.
“Steady, lad –has no one ever told you never to pass on a man’s flask without asking? Besides…”
BloodRaven smiled and half bowed, reached into his furs and pulled out a jug of ale.
“Whisky is all very well for the old, but beer is the stuff for a thirst.”
“You held on to that well. I don’t suppose you managed to grab a haunch of venison?”
“Afraid not. Just had room for the essentials. Now, about the Hounds…”
Erik interrupted. He probably should have kept quiet, but he couldn’t be bothered listening to a concocted tail of BloodRaven’s heroism, possibly involving stolen gems, slaughtered guards and a ravished princess, or some combination of all three.
“They started tracking you not long after you lost your blade. You don’t know why, or how they find you, if it isn’t by magic, but they’ve been turning up in groups of four every few weeks. And they’re getting better.”
BloodRaven frowned. “You’re right. And I’m not sure I like that. How do you know so much about them, anyway?”
Erik didn’t reply, stared instead into the flames. The fire was welcome to his bones, flickering tongues lighting the stone at his back, throwing its rough carvings into relief. Shadows hid his eyes, caressed his face. Figures seemed to curl about his bald head, feathered serpents and monkeys, gods and men. The sacred and the profane, and in that moment Han wouldn’t have like to have bet money on where Erik belonged.
“You ask me to speak of your curse? Here, in one of the six circles of the south, on the night of the dead moon, holding in your hand the Ruby Blade of BloodRaven? Do you really want to know why the Warlord sends his hounds for you, how they scent you down all the ways of the world, no matter where you hide, and how you must end this. You ask me this, here?”
BloodRaven looked into his shadow shrouded eyes, and his gaze did not waver.
“I ask this of you now, by right of the blade I bear, of the blood on my hands and scars on my back. I ask this of you.”
Han felt the hair rise on his neck, seemed to see a line drawn between the two, one leaning forward almost into the fire, the other with is legs crossed beneath him, his hands balanced on his knees.
Erik looked away from BloodRaven, into the flames, and then to the stones at the other side of the circle. He looked at Han, and then cocked his head as if listening, and then into the dark. He nodded, then, and half smiled.
“I won't tell you everything, but I believe I will tell you what matters.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 08:09 pm (UTC)"Discreetly", I think, not "discretely", and I'll try to stop proofreading.
Enjoy the match ("if"?), I'm off to the pub!