Authors: Kim Hunter
with his own views. Perhaps, Soldier, you come from a place where pure evil does not exist, where it is only generated in the hearts and minds of mortals greedy for wealth and power. Here there are forces which are difficult to control. Yes, there are men, and wizards, and all manner of creatures who perpetrate their own kind of evil, but there is also the distilled essence of evil which comes from living in a world where nature and supernature live so close to one another that they often merge. Magic and the ordinary meld into an indivisible one. There are blurred lines here, boundaries which are crossed by beings from both sides. Here, Soldier, you will find the unexpected. So, said Soldier, still unconvinced by this explanation, the depravity I saw within the walls of Zamerkand and the decay of the natural world at large, all this is due to one sick and dying wizard? Not just to that, replied the boy. Some of it is due in part to my wicked progenitor, who was banished by Queen Vandas father, the old king of Guthrum, at the request of the King Magus, my uncle HoulluoH. The old kings family has, for his pains, been rewarded with spasmodic purple madness, which visits at odd times. No one knows where OmrnullummO is now, but wherever it is his mind reaches out and corrupts all it touches. OmmullummO, my father, never got over the fact that his older brother HoulluoH was instated as King Magus. Jealousy gnawed at the mind of OmmullummO until he finally turned rogue wizard, opposed to a world in balance. My father no longer believes in symmetry, only in pure evil. He wished the world to be flooded with corruption, and must still wish it, since once a wizard has turned rogue he is lost to iniquity forever. Where is your father now? No one knows perhaps a long way away. Yet his magic still reaches us? Those who take the wrong path find power at the end in great abundance, for there are few who have used it.
Chapter Seven
Soldier woke in the middle of the night covered in small creatures which had their teeth buried in his arteries. He leapt up, yelling, and tried to fend off the invaders. They were not so easily dislodged from their task. Soldier shouted for assistance. Uthellen and the boy woke at his second cry. In the glow from the embers of the camp-fire they saw his plight. The boy took a stick and began beating the parasites, small beings about two and a half inches in length, of human appearance. They clung on with their teeth and when one was severed by Soldiers blade, its head remained with its jaws gripping Soldiers flesh, while its wriggling torso fell to the forest floor. Soldier had to squeeze the head to open its jaws, so that he could remove it. On inspection, Soldier found his skin covered in bite marks. What are they? he cried. Drots, replied Uthellen, still striking the furious little figures. Blood-sucking fairies. The fairies began to suffer severe loss of numbers under the onslaught of Uthellens and the boys blows. Eventually the small creatures began to fall away, flying into the darkness with their wings humming loudly. Soldier could tell the vicious little beings were angry by the sound they made. One of them, having been stunned by the boys stick, was disorientated and whacked into a tree at great speed. It gave out a terrible shriek, before dropping at Soldiers feet and buzzing there, thrashing with its arms and legs, until it finally died and lay still. Soldier, now free of the creatures, picked it up and studied it in the light from the glowing charcoal. Its like a tiny human, he marvelled. He pressed the jaws again, revealing the serrated teeth inside the fairys mouth, two of them longer than the others. Except for these. Then he saw a bloated one, wriggling on the edge of the fire. It was mortally wounded and in great pain. He trod on it swiftly to put it out of its suffering. The drot burst, showering the embers with Soldiers blood, making the flames sizzle. Soldiers head suddenly began to swim and he felt a little weak and woozy. I dont feel so good, he said, his manhood suffering from the confession. Ive come over a bit faint. Loss of blood, said Uthellen. Youd better lie down while I warm up some hare soup for you. Youll be all right with some rest. In the meantime, my son will gather up some blackthorn branches and make a protective barrier to keep out such creatures as these. Soldier sank gratefully to the ground. Why havent I met these drots before? he asked, his voice a little shaky. You only find them in forests, Uthellen replied. They infest these particular woods in great numbers. Mostly they feed on the blood of cattle, but they like the blood of mortals a lot. They say its rich in goodness, because of the variety of foodstuffs eaten by human beings. Why didnt they bite you too? asked Soldier, a little resentful of being picked out as a sole victim. They wouldnt suck the blood of a wizards son - it would kill them. And I think I was sleeping too close to the fire for their comfort. I kept waking up very hot and intending to move, but was too sleepy to do it. Soldier said, You could have warned me. We forgot. Its been a long day. It just never crossed my mind that we would be attacked by drots. Is there anything else youd like to warn me about? The boy, now dragging thorn branches and placing them in a circle around the camp, said, Theres a giant boar somewhere in these woods, but we cant worry about him. Why cant we? Because we dont know where he is. If he attacks, well just have to do what we can to protect ourselves. He preys on travellers in this forest. The boar kills them, leaves them to rot for a few days like jugged hare, then returns when the flesh is soft and putrid to eat his fill, as a scavenger feeds on a decomposing carcass. He has a name too. Even though Soldier had been amongst the Guthrumites and Carthagans for only a short while he knew instinctively that if the boar had a name it was more than just an ordinary beast. Just as a sword with a name is a unique weapon, so a wild animal with a name is also exceptional. This boar had to be the bastard son of a god, or a creation of the gods. Such a creature might terrorise a whole town or city for many years, until someone came along and killed themselves into the annals of history by slaughtering the beast and becoming a hero. Whats the name of this boar? He is called Garnash. They say he weighs a black ton and his tusks are like sabres. So, we have a giant boar for company. At that moment there was a howl from the distant forested hills above their camp. And wolves, of course, added Uthellen. Theres the wolves. Of course there are, grumbled Soldier, sarcastically. And the odd rogue Hannack roaming the countryside, looking for a bearded mandible to hack off and use as a wig. Oh no, Uthellen assured him, a Hannack would never come in here his horse wouldnt like the thorn bushes. Well thats something, I suppose. Now, can we get some sleep? Im feeling fatigued by all this. Soldier lay there, trying to get back to sleep again, but there seemed to be all manner of things out in the darkness, pressing to reach his vulnerable form. In the distant hills the wolves raised their heads to the moon and let their throats sing. He listened to their night noise. After a while Soldier began to recognise a repeated sound. It was as if they were calling out a single word, though the meaning was lost in the hollow of the howl. Howls are smooth, flowing sounds, mellow in the utterance, and from a great distance they are difficult to interpret. Soldier had the feeling the wolves were calling a name his real name but maddeningly he could not quite hear the syllables. They know who I am, he said, mournfully to himself, but I cant make out what theyre saying. I cant understand what word it is theyre howling either, or I would tell you. Uthellen? said Soldier. Are you still awake? She came to him then and snuggled down beside him. He could smell her hair, which had been washed with some kind of forest herb, letting out a fragrance which tested sorely his resolve to remain celibate for his wife. Still, he turned his back on her. An owl hooted derisively. Do you find me repulsive? said Uthellen. Am I simply a woman from the sewers? He sat up now, the same owl hooting its scorn. I find you extremely attractive. Thats why I have to turn away. Uthellen, you know I am married . . . She said in a disappointed tone, But your wife does not love you. She has sent you away. And your marriage is not yet consummated. Still, I cannot. I know its stupid. Most men would give their right hands to sleep with a woman such as you. A week ago I would have been one of them. But theres been a union of two people and I am one of them. Its part of who I am. I cant put that aside and forget it ever happened. Also I have to be in love with a woman in order to make love with her, otherwise the act means nothing to me. Im sorry. She pulled him down beside her and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. And you are not in love with me? asked Uthellen, refusing to let him go. You hate me? I dont hate you, Im very fond of you I shall be like a brother to you but not a lover. The owl hooted so much Soldier thought it must fall off its branch. Soldier gritted his teeth. He really was very fond of Uthellen and could have loved her easily, if another had not come along. But that other person had come along and now there was an iron door between Soldier and other women. He got up, thoroughly miserable, and went and sat on a great root beneath a tree. In the moonlight, forest fairies, smaller than the drots, came to him. They covered him in swarms: transparent wings humming, tiny eyes glowing, hot little fingers pinching him with sharp nails. When he did not respond to their pinches they bit him lightly all over his skin, inflaming his lust. The faster Soldier brushed them off, the more they swarmed over him. He gave up. With his passion swimming Soldier went back to bed and tried to get some sleep. All that came to him were images of himself and Uthellen, rolling on the mossy ground amongst the roots of an old grandfather hornbeam, making love in high and furious fashion. When morning came Soldier had found little sleep, but he had not broken his vow of renunciation. He had remained true to his lady and tired though he was this was a source of comfort to him. Uthellen rose before the boy was awake. Im sorry, she said. I should not have tempted you in the night hours. Please forgive me. Something something got into me. I think it might have been a residue of the boys father. From time to time I am driven to wickedness by those traces of him which remain in me. There is nothing essentially wicked in wanting to make love to someone, replied Soldier. But I am greatly interested in the father of the boy. OmmullummO is still abroad somewhere in Guthrum? Uthellen nodded. Or one of its bordering countries. Then how did how did you become pregnant by him? asked Soldier. Did you meet him before he was banished? No. He was able to project his lust into a youth, who then seduced me. Wizards can obtain vicarious gratification from making love to women through a surrogate male. After we had finished our passionate meeting the poor youth collapsed and withered away. He became like a puffball sucked dry of any moisture: a husk with simply nothing but dust inside. And through this one mating, you became pregnant with the boy? Wizards are potent creatures. You must remember to keep my secret, however. His father wishes him dead. Most children of such unhallowed unions are killed by their wizard fathers before they reach the age of seven. Theyre a threat to their elders, being young and pure of spirit. Their minds are not yet corrupted by ambition and the craving for power, or by any other worldly desire. But one or two reach adulthood? Soldier said. Of course, thats how supernature plans these things, otherwise there would be no new wizards. Just as in the natural world two or three newly-hatched turtles out of fifty manage to reach the sea, after running the gauntlet of gulls and other birds, so one or two wizards offspring make it past the year of seven. Again, like the turtles, of that generation of three perhaps a single one will survive being eaten by the monsters of the ocean the sharks and other predators - to reach adulthood. Soldier marvelled at these things. So, you have managed to keep your son alive, despite being hunted by - by what exactly? By the agents of his father: rats, spiders, beetles and other small creatures that infest dark places. At this moment the boy himself woke up. He rose and began collecting wood and leaves. These he put on the fire. Soon there was a blaze going from the embers. It warmed the sheltered and shaded glade. The boy then cut a gourd from a nearby climbing plant and hollowed it out with the Soldiers knife. This he filled with water from the pool, then, nestling it in some hot stones which kept the gourd from the actual flames of the fire, he managed to heat some water to a tepid temperature. Hes a good lad, said Soldier. Look at the way he did those chores, without being asked. Hes my son, said Uthellen, proudly. Soldier noticed marks on the boys ankles. They were like inflamed handprints. He asked Uthellen what they were. Theyre the handprints of the witch who acted as midwife during his birth. I have burn marks from her hands too, around my thighs and on my stomach. And before you ask, I went to a witch rather than an ordinary midwife because I knew I was giving birth to a wizards son. The birth of such a child is very difficult. They are always in an awkward position in the womb, a kind of defensive crouch, ready to ward off any attack. The witch had to break his bones to get him out of the womb, thats why his arms and legs look a bit peculiar. Once he is fully grown, he can straighten them with magic. Broke his bones? cried Soldier, appalled at the thought. It happens in ordinary births, too, where the baby is trying to come out sideways. I never knew. How did you know you were giving birth to a boy? It could have been a girl. Wizards dont have daughters, only sons. Later, while Soldier was making himself a bow and arrows, he asked the boy, Have you ever been attacked by rats or spiders? Rats, yes. Once by a snake a blind cave racer. What did they do? They tried to tear open my throat, so that I would choke or bleed to death. Soldier raised his eyebrows. Yet you escaped injury. I killed them all, said the boy, his dark eyes flashing with menace. When I was a baby, still in my cradle, I strangled one rat and bit the head off another. I can believe it, replied Soldier, a chill going through him as he studied the youngster. Look, Im going hunting. Ill be gone an hour, then I want you to call me. Can you do that? I dont think Ill get lost, but just in case I would like to be guided to the camp by the sound of your voice. All right, said the boy, once again a compliant child, ready to the bidding of an adult. Ill shriek like a magpie. Soldier was dubious about this. What if there are real magpies shrieking their heads off? I might be confused and try to go in all directions. Magpies dont come into this wood. Not this deep. No birds, except perhaps owls, come in here. If you say so. Soldier left, carrying his bow and a spear he had made with a sharp flintstone and a staff. By noting which side of the tree moss grew on, he managed to keep in one direction, moving stealthily through the undergrowth. Once or twice he attempted to kill some small creatures a polecat, a tree marten but missed each time. The animals of the forest might fall for his clever snares made of supple saplings, but they were too quick for his hunting skills. He was not very adept with the bow, especially since his arrows had no flights. In the end he decided to return to camp empty-handed. Soldier waited for the boys cries to guide him into the camp. A call came from the boy, somewhat earlier than expected. A shriek from a distant place. Soldier realised he must have wandered further than he thought from the camp, for the sound was very faint. He tried calling back, but the boy had chosen his tone well. Soldiers deep, low voice was lost in the ferny brakes after a few yards. It needed a high penetrating shriek to carry through the woods. Soldier gave up trying to tell the boy he had heard him and travelled as quickly as he could in the direction of the sounds. As he was passing through one glade where the sunlight shafted through and picked out small red flowers like drops of blood amongst the star moss, Soldier got the distinct feeling he was being stalked. He turned quickly, looking in all directions, but was faced only with the wooden pillars of the forest, the canopy above and the undergrowth beneath. Soldier listened intently, trying to pick up any sounds of breaking