ESKER VII

  The way Eógan, Guillaume, and Liadan were staring at her made Esker uncomfortable. It made her feel like an other, a monster. Did the surface-dwellers not realize how strange they appeared relative to Tengu sensibilities? It was unfair, Esker had not chosen to be here: she had been captured and tortured.

  As tension built, Guillaume seemed to notice her anguish. “I think we need to consider this from Esker’s perspective,” the young Jotman said. “Her eyes appear to be sensitive to the sun, she had to shield them with my cloak at one point. Perhaps we can come up with a solution to both of these issues simultaneously.”

  Esker appreciated Guillaume’s consideration and directed a slight nod of her head to him.

  “That gives me an idea,” Liadan replied. “The teaching of the Broken Man speak of compassion for those in need. In particular the Broken Man walked amongst lepers and was unafraid to touch or care for them. Many lepers cover their skin with cloth or bandages and wear a wide brimmed hat, that would not be an unfamiliar sight, especially in the company a sister of the faith.”

  “I am not afflicted with a horrible pox!” Esker snapped, in a rare display of emotion. In Guillaume’s eyes she saw compassion and understanding, in the others, she saw fear. Esker was tired of being so far away from her people and tired of being marooned on this surface world. She had never felt so alone.

  “Can you give us a moment please?” Guillaume asked Eógan and Liadan. “I want to speak with Esker privately.”

  Eógan shrugged and rose to his feet. “I need some bloody air anyways.” He walked over to the door, followed by Liadan.

  “I am sorry if I offended you Esker, I did not mean for my words to be hurtful,” Liadan said, before stepping through the doorway.

  Once they were alone, Guillaume took Esker’s hand in his own. “I know how you feel Esker, I have never felt like I belonged. All my life I felt like a burden to everyone around me.” He looked searchingly into her eyes. “I do not know why we are all here and what part we will each play going forward, but I am glad to have met you Esker.”

  Esker was moved by his words. “Thank you for your kindness Guillaume, you are a true friend. I know that none of you mean to criticize me, I recognize that my appearance will draw undesired attention. I appreciate how you tried to present the disguise as means to protect me from the sun.” Her eyes shined brightly and glistened a bit from emotion. Esker squeezed Guillaume’s small hands and looked to the door. “I am ready to cover up my skin and hide my face now.”

  ———

  By morning, the altered state induced by the Bluecaps had receded from the minds of Eógan, Esker, Guillaume, and Liadan, yet they had not lost the ability to communicate freely. Lady Galdr had an ample supply of linens, so Guillaume and Liadan used strips of white fabric to wrap Esker’s arms, face. Now all that was missing was a hat to shield her eyes. Surprisingly, it was Eógan who improvised a solution, by flattening out a woven basket with skill and dexterous hands.

  “I hope Lady Galdr does not mind us repurposing this,” Eógan said with a waggish grin as he put the finishing touches on the large conical hat. “I half suspect she left these bloody things here for this purpose.”

  Esker was still adjusting to the surface-world’s proclivity for displaying teeth as a sign of joy. For Tengu, the eyes were far more expressive. When Esker pulled back her lips and displayed her pointed teeth, Eógan briefly winced and then laughed heartily. “You are a ferocious one Esker, I like you.” Esker could not help but be amused by the small Pecht’s antics.

  Liadan tightened one last strand of the linen bandages on Esker and smiled, “I think we are ready to depart! Next stop the Gaídel Coronation Stone?” Eógan nodded as he tucked the knife back into his waist and retrieved Ronan’s spear, before stepping outside.

  Guillaume took a last look around and put his hands on his hips. “We will need to find supplies for our journey, is there anywhere suitable nearby?” he asked Liadan.

  “Gallowye was the closest town,” Liadan replied sadly. “There are some scattered homesteads and trading posts along the river, perhaps we can follow it north.”

  “That reminds me,” Guillaume said as he looked at Liadan’s habit. “Esker may not be the only one who requires a disguise. Those Gaídel mercenaries were looking for you and your attire is quite distinct.” Esker was not sure of the significance of Liadan’s vestments, but they stood out even for someone unfamiliar with the surface-world.

  “You are right Guillaume, I had overlooked that.” Liadan pressed her lips together, making them disappear. “Hopefully we can find the supplies we need and a different outfit at the same place. You may wish to do the same Guillaume, you are clearly dressed like a Jotman.” Lady Galdr had left behind some water-skins in a cast iron pot. Liadan handed a water-skin to Guillaume and another to Esker, before hefting the pot and exiting the house.

  Esker studied the magnetic rock in her hand and offered it to Guillaume. “I will return this lodestone when we are reunited with Lady Galdr. I have no means of carrying it, will you please keep it amongst your belongings?” Guillaume smiled at her and nodded as he reverently took the stone in both hands. Esker grabbed the harvestman’s forelimb on her way out. The improvised weapon was strangely effective and most importantly, it reminded her of home. She took a sniff and was grateful that she had the opportunity to clean it in the river, the added heft of the packed sand within felt pleasant in her hand.

  ———

  The endless blue expanse above was disconcerting for Esker, the excess of space made her uncomfortable. She felt exposed and missed the snugness of life in the womb of the world. She was grateful for the hat, since the brightness was unusually keen as they marched back towards the river. The day prior, puffy white tufts of what looked like spider wool or worm silk hung suspended in the sky. When water had trickled down from the leafy canopy, the light had diminished comfortably into a soothing grey.

  As the group walked through the woods, the wrappings covering her arms, face, and legs kept getting snarled on vegetation. It was agitating. The insect life on the surface was curiously different than what Esker was used to. Tiny, nearly invisible pests buzzed about and pestered her. The creatures in the cave systems dwarfed what Esker encountered here in what the others called a forest: even the spiders were adorably small.

  Back home, the threat of a cave spider could lead to an entire work tunnel being evacuated. All excavations would be ceased until Tengu warrior rode in on their beetle mounts to vanquish or drive away such a dire threat. In her play-brood, Esker loved hearing the tales of honorable Tengu who risked their lives fending off the nightmarish creatures that stalked the deep tunnels. In her naive youth, she had hoped to form a mating-pair with one of those brave warriors; as she matured, she questioned the toll of anxiety such a risky profession would impart on loved ones and offspring. Then again, mining was not much safer.

  Esker had been lost in these thoughts, tuning out the chatter of her companions as they traveled and was jarred to attention by a more insisting tone. Guillaume was looking at her and she assumed he must have asked her a question. “I apologize, perhaps I have grown used to being unable to participate in conversation. Could you please repeat your question?” she asked her friend.

  “I asked how your arm is feeling.” There was concern on Guillaume’s face.

  Esker looked down at the bandaged wound on her forearm, flexed and grimaced a bit, releasing a hissing exhale through her teeth. “It is fine,” she said unconvincingly. Guillaume looked at Liadan, “Is there anything we can do for her?”

  The Gaídel’s brow furrowed. “I was able to heal the knife wound, but I do not seem to be able to use that power at will. It seems to be an instinctual reaction.”

  “I said that I am fine,” Esker insisted,not wanting to be a burden on her companions.

  Guillaume did not appear to be convinced. “When we next stop to rest, will you try to call upon the Broken Man to aid Esker?” he asked Liadan. She nodded and smiled. Esker was quite touched by Guillaume’s concern and Liadan’s willingness to try to help her. Eógan scouted ahead, like he had the day prior. As Liadan and Guillaume walked in the middle of the formation and Esker guarded the rear, she practiced smiling like the surface dwellers.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  LIADAN VI

  After Eógan, Esker, Guillaume, and Liadan reached the banks of the river, they stopped to rest. The current burbled and flowed past rocks laconically, the setting was picturesque, but Liadan could not forget the violence from their encounter with the Gaídel mercenaries the day prior. Niall stood out in her mind, she did not want to encounter him again. Liadan liked to focus on the potential good in people and believed that they could change, but with Niall there was a darkness that terrified her. Something had corrupted the man and made him devoid of any compassion. The Mycomancer, Crimthann, had given the opposite impression. His kindness and affability were genuine and Liadan struggled to understand how such a disparate pair could coexist.

  Liadan’s thoughts turned to her newfound abilities: so far they had largely been reactionary. She had repulsed the abuse of Sister Fleurie and the advances of Sir Marin, healed the knife wound she suffered from his vicious attack, and defended Guillaume from an arrow. Liadan tried to think of a common thread and remembered her time spent in the penitence box at the abbey. She had been lost in prayer until she felt a religious awakening. When she had opened her eyes, her skin was luminous. Liadan needed a way to focus and ignite her faith in the Broken Man and the Holy Mother.

  Liadan found comfort in the sounds of water, so she moved away from the others and knelt by the edge of the river. She thought of the compassion of the Broken Man, willing to sacrifice himself for the souls of all of mankind. She felt the undying love of the the Holy Mother and pain of losing an only child. Once more she saw their kind faces, as she had during the vision of the finished cathedral. Power began welling up from deep within her soul. It was not like the hot flash of righteous fury, quick to burn itself out; this was the heat of freshly forged steel, glowing hot until it was quenched in cold water. She could feel her faith expanding from her heart and flowing through her body, down to her finger tips.

  Liadan pressed her hands together in gratitude and stood. “Esker,” she said quietly, “May I heal your wound?” The Tengu was squinting and shielding her large eyes from the sun with her injured arm, but nodded. As Esker turned her shoulder to face her, Liadan closed her eyes. She approached in measured steps, flaring with white light. Liadan noticed the awe on Guillaume and Eógan’s faces, yet was not distracted by it. She maintained her focus, containing the energy of her faith within her hands. “Remove the bandages please Eógan,” she asked and the Pecht obliged without his customary flippancy.

  The arrow wound through Esker’s forearm was beginning to heal, but had not yet been sealed. After the bandage and poultice was separated from Esker’s skin, her dark purple blood began to trickle out.

  Liadan pressed her hands on either side of the puckered wound and brightness flowed into Esker. The bones of her arm became visible and the Tengu gasped, closing her eyes tightly. The torn skin and muscle knitted itself at an impossible speed. There was a spurt of purplish blood from the exit wound on the rear side of Esker’s arm and as Liadan tenderly turned the Tengu’s forearm, she saw that the skin had sealed itself there as well.

  Eógan crouched down and examined the splatter of Esker’s blood on the bed of grass. He drew his dagger from his waist and prodded at it. Raising the tip and squinting, he examined an amorphous dark shape. “It appears our friend Crimthann was not quite the man he presented himself as,” Eógan said as he displayed what he had skewered. “This is black rot fungus, it can eat through flesh and bone in a matter of days.”

  Liadan was shocked and felt incredibly naive for trusting the outwardly kind Crimthann. She felt a fury festering within that stemmed from the consecutive betrayals of the Abbess, Sir Marin, and Crimthann. She did not want her heart to harden to stone, yet she would not survive in this dangerous world as a naive country girl. “You were right Eógan, we should have killed them all.” Liadan stated dispassionately and was relieved when Eógan did not take the opportunity to rub her mistake in her face.

  Guillaume looked dismayed.

  “The mushroom man infected me?” Esker asked in horror, examining her sealed wound and then the fungal growth. “What kind of monster would do such a thing?” Liadan was unable to answer. Esker’s breathing intensified for a few moments, gradually calming. She turned to Liadan, emotion clear in her reflective eyes. “Thank you Liadan, I will not forget what you have done for me.” With visible effort, Esker curled her lips upward and pressed her pointed teeth into a smile.

  Liadan laughed and beamed back at her, momentarily forgetting the anger deep within her soul. When Esker appeared hurt by her response, Liadan reassured her. “I do not mock your smile friend, I am happy to see how you accommodate us. It can be challenging to understand your ways and please let us know if there is anything we can do to make you more comfortable.” Esker’s eyes lit up and she grinned, before shyly covering her mouth with her hand.

  ———

  As the party continued traveling through the woods, following the bank of the river north, Liadan was grateful for the momentary lull in conversation. It gave her time to reflect on her eagerness to trust others and the vindictive wraith that emerged when that faith was betrayed. The part that scared her most is that she liked the power she felt emanating from her rage. She reluctantly admitted to herself that she had enjoyed seeing Sir Marin writhe in agony on the stone floor of the abbey’s cloister. After the way he had treated her, it had given her satisfaction to be the one in control. There was a dark power that Liadan feared could become a temptation and it was important for her to resist those impulses. She would rather trust and be hurt than be the one hurting others. It felt like it may be a challenge to strike the proper balance and she hoped that the Broken Man or Holy Mother would be able to provide greater guidance.

  Without any explicit communication, the group had fallen into a familiar formation: Eógan ranged ahead, while Guillaume walked alongside Liadan. Esker trailed a few steps behind to guard the rear, but also because she had the most difficulty making her way through the forest’s underbrush.

  Liadan reflected on the childlike wonder and euphoria granted by the Bluecap mushrooms. The experience was not unlike the rapture she had felt in the height of communion with the Broken Man and the Holy Mother. Both faith and the hallucinogenic qualities of the fungus led to the same conclusion, there is much to the world beyond our limited perspectives. Being united in that understanding was a powerful feeling. While she was only starting to get to know Eógan, Esker, and Guillaume, already a kinship had formed that was not solely forged out of shared adversity.

  The words of Lady Galdr echoed in Liadan’s mind, namely the witch’s faith in the Wyrd: that Liadan had been destined to meet her companions. The faith of the Broken Man was adamant in free will and a preordained future was at odds with that tenet. Believers needed to act against the impulses of sin and take the righteous path; if their journey was already charted, how could they be judged for their actions? Liadan ruminated on these thoughts for most of the day, periodically chatting with Esker and Guillaume as they traveled or stopped for rest. Eógan returned to check on them occasionally, but since they were following the river north, it was unlikely that they would lose track of one another.

  Liadan was growing hungry and could only assume that the others were feeling the same pangs. As dusk approached, Eógan returned with two rabbits. They did not appear to have any visible injuries besides broken necks. “We should cook these over a small fire and replenish our water supplies,” Eógan said, as he began skinning one of the rabbits with his knife. His movements looked well practiced and he was easily able to separate the fur from the meat.

  Liadan and Guillaume searched for deadfall suitable for a campfire. Meanwhile, Esker dug a shallow hole and carefully chose stones to form a ring around the fire pit. Liadan was impressed by how perfectly the stone fit together, it looked like they had been cut for that purpose.

  ———

  Once the fire was crackling and had built up sufficient embers, Eógan improvised a spit by paring a branch with his knife and roasted the rabbits. The flesh was crisp on the outside and deliciously juicy. Guillaume and Liadan grinned at each other as piping hot fat dribbled down their faces. Eógan was well pleased and eagerly attacked his portion. Esker was the only one not eating. “Is something wrong with the food Esker?” Guillaume asked when he noticed Esker staring at the half of a rabbit in her hand.

  “I do not typically eat the flesh of living creatures,” Esker said. “My people hold that life is sacred and the spirit in all animals should be revered.”

  “This spirit is bloody delicious,” Eógan quipped with a mouthful of rabbit. Esker glared at him.

  “I have seen you eating meat before,” Guillaume said.

  Esker looked a bit guilty. “It was out of necessity and I am uncertain that I made the right choice.” Esker looked at Eógan, “Thank you for providing a meal for us, I do not mean to be ungrateful.”

  Eógan shrugged. “More for me I supposed, but you need to eat something or you won’t be able to keep pace with us.”

  Liadan took a look around, searching for edible flora. “Eógan when you are done with your meal, could you help me search for some bilberries, clover and cat tail roots? We can also cook some burdocks and pine over the fire.”

  “Fine…” Eógan grumbled.

  “Guillaume and Esker, please boil some of the river water to refill our water-skins while Eógan and I forage.”

  “Thank you Liadan,” Esker said with clear gratitude, “I will not forget your kindness.”

  ———

  “Will you fight the Jotman?” Eógan asked as he foraged with Liadan in a forest glen.

  “I will defend myself and those I care about,” Liadan answered as she tugged at a dandelion root.

  “That is not what I asked. We cannot wait for the first blow to be struck Liadan. If you hesitate, people will die.” Eógan looked off in the distance uncomfortably.

  “Why do you hate the Jotman so much?” Liadan asked.

  “They are evil, you of all people should know that. They came to Galálann and brought only destruction. I watched them kill my friends and have seen the atrocities that they have inflicted upon the Gaídel.” His fury was barely contained.

  “We cannot become what we fight against Eógan. We must hold ourselves to a higher standard.”

  Eógan gritted his teeth and kicked a rock loose in frustration. Abruptly he cocked his head to the side and listened attentively. “Quickly, go and get the others. Bring the weapons and leave our supplies behind,” he said in low whisper. “Hurry! There is a battle being fought.” He dropped low to the ground, moving like a predator on the hunt.