April 8, 708 CR
They found Pharcellus's northern garments folded up on the kitchen table. The dragon returned an hour later with a fresh mountain goat's carcass in his jaws. This they cooked and ate together that evening. But of what upset him so about seeing the egg shells Pharcellus wouldn't say and neither Lindsey nor Quoddy asked.
They slept in Lindsey's old home now mostly cleaned that night. Lindsey expected to dream of his childhood or to wake thinking it was twenty years ago as some of the others whom the Curses had made children sometimes mentioned happened to them, but his dreams were mere vapors that vanished with the first flick of his eyelids and his fears were dispelled by the almost complete silence draped over the house. As a child, there was always the sounds of at least the animals if not his father and mother beginning their morning tasks even before their children showed their faces. Not so anymore.
After a quick meal of grains the trio began the long hike back to Gerhard's home. They spoke only when necessary, each leaving the others alone with their thoughts. Lindsey only cast a single glance back at his old home before it was lost amidst the trees, but his thoughts ran that way for most of the next few hours. He worried over his family a third of the time, the next third he spent reminiscing on the many happy days of his childhood. The rest was spent ruminating on Zhypar.
Lindsey had managed for the most part to put the kangaroo out of his thoughts ever since he'd become a man again. It was impossible to completely extricate him, but once they'd returned to Metamor and he'd settled down into the life amongst the timber crews, it had been possible to not be reminded of the kangaroo's absence by every little thing he'd seen. Flying north to Arabarb had provided welcome relief there too. But seeing that figurine of Habakkuk when a man had brought all the pain back.
And with a child's body, he'd been unable to hold it back.
As Lindsey made his way through the trees and underbrush, feeling small even compared to the now human Pharcellus, he wondered if that wasn't for the best. He'd shed tears and wept in a way he hadn't been able to since he'd become human and male again. There was no denying it now; he still loved and dearly missed Zhypar.
Once they crested the ridge that overlooked Lindsey's old home, their path took a generally downward slope that made for a much quicker return hike. The sun was warming the trees and the air by the time the little clearing and Gerhard's cabin came into view again. The hound Tash began baying as soon as he saw the three of them. The grizzled northerner shouted his dog into silence as he secured a few barrels in an open-faced wagon. A single horse was yoked to the wagon, and the burly mare contented herself with the wildflowers near the hardscrabble road through the woods.
"Good, you made it back safe," Gerhard said when they approached. "We're going into Vaar tonight. There a few of the members of the resistance will meet with you and hear your plan. If they think it worthwhile, they'll help."
"Thank you," Lindsey replied with a deep breath. "Now comes the hard part; convincing them that this can work. How long will it take us to get to Vaar? Is the bridge still standing?"
Gerhard shook his head. "Not the old bridge. Calephas's troops burned that a few years back. But there is a newer, smaller one nearby that we can use. It's safe enough. It should only take a few hours to reach Vaar."
Quoddy stretched his wings as he eyed the wagon. "It's probably best that I fly. You'll take less notice that way."
"Stay close though," Lindsey suggested. The boy turned back to their contact and asked, "How long before we can leave?"
Gerhard stroked his longest beard braid and sucked on his lip before replying, "About an hour. I have to see to my animals. I expect to return tomorrow or the day after, but there is none to care for them but me and I won't risk wolves or bears seeing them as easy meals."
While they waited, Pharcellus and Quoddy debated the merits of this or that alternate name that the dragon in disguise could use on their journey into Arabarb's populated regions; some of the names they discussed were even more ludicrous than his given name, but they eventually settled on a few promising possibilities that the dragon vowed to contemplate on their ride to Vaar.
Lindsey indulged the boyish whim that had struck him two night's past when he'd first met the three eager dogs and played with them, both games of fetch and some good-natured wrestling. They barked and ran around him in circles, moving with exuberance and the sort of joie de vivre only found in young dogs. It made him laugh and for a little while forget about his troubles. Neither his friends nor Gerhard said aught to discourage them.
By the time their contact and his wagon were ready, Lindsey and the dogs had worn themselves out. This pleased Gerhard immensely because it meant his dogs would keep still during the trip. He brought all five of them with him, making sure to tie them securely to the wagon so they wouldn't decide to jump and chase a squirrel or chipmunk. Lindsey collapsed between two casks while Pharcellus sat up across from him and just behind Gerhard. Quoddy promised to keep them in sight before shrinking into his animal shape and flying into the sky.
Gerhard gave a gentle flick to the reins and the strapping mare pushed hard on the ground with her hooves. A sudden lurch and the wagon followed her, crunching and bumping over the old track through the woods. They were lost beneath the canopy of pine, fir, and alder, listening to the groaning wheels, the mare's hooves, and the chirping of birds delighting in the return of Spring. Lindsey was grateful that the weather was pleasant; it could often be filled with bitter storms during April.
The dogs yawned and laid down during the journey, all nuzzling up together, even the guard dog Tash seemed content to lie and wait. He perked his head up and turned his floppy ears from time to time at some strange sound that only he could hear. He would listen and stare at the arbors all about, a dense thicket of trees, pine needles, moss, and some scrub where the pines hadn't killed them.
Lindsey rested his head against the wagon sideboard, curled his knees up to his chest and stared up at the sky. Branches spread over their heads in layer after layer of pine and the occasional leaf bud. Through them he could see a deep blue sky and sometimes even snatches of a lone gull winging through the air. He half wished he could fly as he watched his new friend sailing with the body the Curses had given him.
The road continued down through the hills, past rocky outcroppings, and eventually began to parallel a small stream swollen with snow-melt. Lindsey sat up when they first heard it and stared all about wondering where the water was until Pharcellus pointed ahead and to the right. A few minutes later Lindsey recognized the brighter line of trees for a break in the canopy. The stream poured through an assortment of granite boulders, wending past tree roots desperately clutching their soil, and driving a cleft in the land that the wagon could not cross. The road stayed a good ten paces or more from the edge of the river, but Lindsey could tell from the way the sun glistened off the rocks, that they had no choice but to wait for a bridge.
"There's the old bridge," Gerhard said, pointing to where the road turned to gallop across the cleft. On either bank the remnants of stone markers could be seen, as well as the first steps of the bridge. Nothing remained between. What stone they could see was scarred black at the edges.
Lindsey frowned and asked, "What happened here?"
"One of Calephas's pet mages was offended when one of the girls of Vaar didn't return his advances quickly enough. The bridge is just one of many things he destroyed in and around Vaar."
"And the girl?" Pharcellus asked with a darkness brewing in his eyes.
"Dragged off to Fjellvidden. Her father chased after them, but we never learned what happened to either of them." Gerhard spat at the ground as they rode past the ruined bridge.
On the other side of the bridge on a stone promontory perched Quoddy. The gull looked at them across the impassable expanse, cawed, and vaulted into the sky again. Lindsey smiled once at the bird but frowned a moment later. "What happened to the mage?"
Gerhard shook his head. "Cabalan. That's the mage's name. And I'm not really sure what's become of him. No one is. He came back with Calephas from the attack on Metamor, but after Gmork arrived no one's heard from him. I've heard a few say that Cabalan returned to Nasoj in hopes to gain more power. Others say Gmork killed him. And others say he's still in Fjellvidden making something for Calephas." The burly man shrugged his shoulders again. "But nobody knows for sure. Ah, here's the new bridge."
About a hundred yards down stream from the ruined stone bridge was a new one fashioned from wood. Anchored into either side of the cleft in the rocks framing the snow-swelled river, the bridge appeared sturdy, with railings on either side sealed with pitch, and with thick structural beams buried into pits carved into the rocks. The sides of the wagon almost scraped against the railing as they crossed, and the wood beneath them groaned. The three young dogs stuck their heads over the side to look. Lindsey pet the nearest and scratched his ear.
"A simple fire could ruin that bridge," Pharcellus pointed out after they were across and moving through the woods again.
"Then don't breathe fire on it," Gerhard snapped angrily. "There's not much one can do under Calephas's boot."
"I would never do such a thing," the dragon assured him. He lowered his eyes and after a quick glance at Lindsey, asked, "How much further until we reach Vaar?"
"Not quite an hour," Gerhard replied. "As long as the road is empty."
The road continued to slope down through the hills, straying from the river when bluffs forced it aside, but always returning to follow it as closely as possible. Not long after they passed the first of these bluffs they began to encounter small bridges laid over marshy bogs that were teeming with insects, and for the rest of their ride they were slapping their arms, legs, necks, and ears to drive the nuisances off.
Eventually the forest gave way to a broad field with farms. A central town with spiked walls huddled on the point of a promontory overlooking the river. Watchtowers lined the bluff, providing very few points from which the town could come under siege. Defensive access points to the river were also established in little chimneys descending from within the walls.
All this Lindsey remembered from the few times he'd visited the village as a child. There were two others closer to home and he knew them much better. But Vaar, from his memories, was little different from any other village in Arabarb. The townsfolk would have frequent visits from the many trappers and traders who lived nearby; Gerhard being one, they should not be met with much scrutiny.
The wagon plodded up a gentle incline between fields ready to be turned for planting. Grains and potatoes were about all that could grow easily this far north, and would make the common staple of their diet. Coupled with fish, fowl, and the plentiful bounty of the woods, there was little risk of going hungry if a little care was taken. But it wouldn't take much to drive out the herds and slaughter the beasts to leave everyone to starve either.
Gerhard pointed to the gatehouse and the soldiers standing on the battlements above. "Vaar soldiers. Not Calephas's men. We shouldn't have any trouble. Still, say nothing but your names." He glanced back at Pharcellus and narrowed his eyes. "Just what are you going to call yourself?"
The dragon smiled , blue eyes brightening considerably. "Chellag. Quoddy suggested it, and it sounds like my real name a little."
"Chellag. That's a good name," Gerhard nodded and turned back to the road. They were only twenty feet from the gatehouse and a pair of soldiers came out with wicked spears, horned helmets, and broad circular shields.
"Call me Andrig," Lindsey piped up. "No sense using a girl's name for me."
"Right," Gerhard grunted as the soldiers approached. He pulled the mare to a stop and doffed his bear-skin hat. "Good afternoon, men. I plan to stay the night and no more."
"Weren't you here last night, Gerhard?" one of the two asks a little suspiciously. Lindsey noted him, strong of shoulder and unremitting in countenance, with a youthful vigor in his frame; mid-twenties he guessed. The other soldier was even younger and while broad, he was also shorter, giving him more the suggestion of a fabled dwarf than a grown man.
"Aye, but I had some unexpected visitors this morning," He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the two of them. "They were in need of travel north and so I'm bringing them this far. They can make their own way from here."
The second soldier glared at Pharcellus while tightening his grip on his shield. "Who are you?"
"I am Chellag and this is my younger brother Andrig," the dragon replied. "Our mother succumbed last month and we are on our way to her family."
Both soldiers frowned, not sympathetically, but from an understanding of their duty to family. Lindsey was impressed that his friend could devise so compelling a story that could be conveyed in so few words.
"Carry on then," the soldiers waved them past and Gerhard gave the mare a little encouragement. She pulled the wagon through the gates, plodding along as contentedly as she could. The roads were a mix of dirt and natural stone, while the houses hunched close with communal chimneys belching smoke. They could hear the sounds of a smithy and the boisterous haggling of midwives over fish a few streets over. Lindsey smiled even as his nose objected to the stink of human offal. That was one thing he didn't miss about Arabarb; Metamor's sewage system had become a welcome relief and luxury, even with the variety of pungent odors the beastly Keepers carried with them.
They traveled only thirty feet down the main road before turning down a side street. The houses were pressed close together so that there was only enough room for a single man to walk beside them in the street. The dogs growled at anyone nearby but stayed huddled together in the bed of the wagon. Pharcellus and Lindsey both sat up looking around as casually as they could.
A swarthy man whose beard was black leaned against one of the larger buildings, puffing a pipe and blowing smoke rings. He saw them, nodded to Gerhard, and then walked into a little stable off the main building. Gerhard turned the wagon inside and the black bearded man closed the gates behind them. His voice was deep and gravelly, "Usual room. The pallet's big enough for all three of you. After dinner."
Gerhard thanked him briefly, then climbed down and handed him the reins. He went around the back of the wagon and untied his dogs one by one. He said nothing more.
Lindsey glanced around and saw that they were in a small stables. There was only enough room for a dozen horses at best, and there was almost no room for anything else. Tack and feed were stacked in every conceivable corner and some in the middle of the floor; and that with only a few of the stalls occupied. Pharcellus put a hand on Lindsey's shoulder to steady him while they waited and the boy smiled in appreciation.
Gerhard finished untying his dogs from the wagon and gripped their leashes in one hand. "All right. This way." The dogs all attempted to run ahead of them, but his hold was firm and their leashes short. Passing through a door at the back end of the stables, they briefly saw one of the backrooms at what must be an Inn before turning to their right and climbing an old set of stairs that stank of ale and a little bit of mildew. The dogs pulled at their leashes ahead of them, their claws ripping into the wood with unsettling ease.
But the stairs held them and at the top they found a modest room with a single wide window and sill, a pallet large enough for two men to share, a chamberpot in the far corner, and another door that opened out onto the main second floor hall. When Gerhard closed the door to the stairs they could see that it looked just like any other part of the wall. Cheap furs hung from the walls, including one over the hidden door.
Gerhard let the dogs run loose and they scampered around, sniffing the floor, the sleeping pallet, the chamber pot, and the door outside. He stretched, sighed heavily, and then in a whisper, said, "Brigsne is my contact. I've stayed here before. He'll bring us down to the meeting room in little while and nobody in Inn will be the wiser."
"Even if the dogs make a racket?" Lindsey asked.
"I always bring my dogs," Gerhard reminded him in a firm, almost fatherly voice. "And you are a boy, Andrig. Act like it when others can see us. There are rewards for anyone who turns in a Metamorian."
Lindsey swallowed air and nodded. Indulging his new-found childish side would not be difficult. It yearned to play and make mischief. But knowing when it was appropriate or not seemed the most difficult challenge. And judging by the secret nature of their entrance, he suspect now was not the time.
He sat down on the pallet and curled his knees to his chest again. Pharcellus opened the window and left it that way. He joined Lindsey on the couch and sat next to him, smiling and making a little counting game with his fingers. It was simple enough and occupied them while Gerhard went to collect their gear from the wagon. The dogs began jostling and growling as they played together ignoring the two humans.
While Gerhard was on his second trip down to the stables, Quoddy alighted on their sill and then hopped down to the floor where he was immediately set upon by the dogs. He grew in size just enough to discourage their excitement, but waited until Pharcellus had shut the window to grow to his full size and shape. "That was easy enough," he said in as quiet a voice as he could manage. "So what are we waiting for now?"
"I think he's the Innkeeper," Pharcellus replied. "Brigsne. He'll let us know when to come and meet the others. Until then we wait."
Quoddy bobbed his head up and down as he settled against the wall, with Lindsey and Pharcellus between him and the exuberant canines. "I'm very good at waiting."
The hours passed by quickly enough. The inn was quiet for the most part, with only two visitors crossing the hall outside their door during the entire stretch of afternoon and early evening. After collecting their gear, Gerhard left only twice, the first to procure some water for the dogs, and the second to obtain meals for all of them. The salted pork was meager and would have been better with mead to wash it down but it was enough to return their strength.
The sun lingered in the sky for many hours before a long twilight settled. The sky was awash in orange and crimson hues, darkening in the east like a cooling forge. Lindsey, Pharcellus, and Quoddy spoke quietly, trading stories of the many places they'd visited. Both dragon and gull were especially interested in the perilous trek through the Barrier mountains and into the cave city of Qorfuu. Gerhard listened quietly while they waited.
But before the day completely disappeared, the black bearded innkeeper entered
by the secret door and bid them follow. Quoddy shrank to his animal form and
let Pharcellus cradle him in his arms, webbed feet dangling in the air, as they
descended the steps. At the bottom of the stairs, Brigsne motioned them into
another door that looked on first inspection like a small closet, but which
after moving a sack of grain aside, revealed another door handle. Beyond was
a small room wide enough for a horse to stand nose to tail with a single table
filling the middle.
Seated at the table were four men of various age. Two were older with gray streaked
beards, a third was a young man with bright blond hair and short beard braids,
while the last had a full-grown reddish-brown beard, a horned helmet, and several
nasty scars down his left cheek. They all looked at the trio accompanying Gerhard
and Brigsne with suspicion.
"All right," Brigsne said after inviting them to sit down, "we're here. We've revealed ourselves. Now what grand plan is Metamor scheming that requires us to risk our lives?"
Lindsey sat cross-legged at the table so he wouldn't look so much like a child. Pharcellus sat next to him after setting Quoddy down on the wooden bench. The gull grew back to his normal size and preened his wing feathers a moment before studying the faces opposite them. Brigsne and Gerhard lingered by the door, while the four men stared at them suspiciously. Lindsey noted their expressions, but felt particularly chilled by the second gray-bearded man. The eyes, ice blue, set amidst oddly angular cheekbones, felt familiar and alien at the same time. Their scrutiny was particularly intense and of an entirely different character than the other three. While they looked at both Pharcellus and Quoddy too, this one only studied Lindsey.
The boy swallowed and nodded to each of them in turn. "I am Lhindesaeg. I am a Metamorian now, but I was born here in Arabarb. And I've come to kill that vile usurper Calephas and his pet mages. And when I do, I'm going to need your help to keep anyone else from trying to control Fjellvideen or to mobilize Calephas's forces. We have to crush anyone loyal to him who might try to succeed him."
"And just what help do you expect from us?" the blond-haired one said in a voice not yet curdled by years of hard cold winters hoping to find some elk or bear to kill and feed his family. "We cannot even bring a pointy stick near that castle without being arrested and beaten by his thugs!"
Lindsey shook his head, a sickness growing in his stomach. "We'll never remove him if we do not risk. And you are a man of Arabarb. Why should you be afraid of a fight?"
"I'm not afraid of him!" the man seethed. "And I won't have a child question my courage! What have you seen? What courage do you have, little boy?"
Lindsey drew a deep breath, stood on the bench, and thumped his chest with one fist., eyes twitching and his voice quivering with fury. And despite coming from a ten year old boy, the fire in his gorge made his words strike like hammer blows. "I have fought the fairy folk with all of their powers and won! I have wrestled with evil dragons more ancient than our people and seen them die! I have watched entire castles explode in a fire brighter than the sun and lived!" The blond-haired man's expression paled slightly, while the others gazed at him incredulously. Lindsey lowered his eyes but continued with just as much verve. "I have held the one I love dying in my arms and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I have killed evils more insidious than Calephas and his brutish cronies. They are mere beasts compared to what I have contended against!"
He paused a moment before sitting back down. "Don't question my bravery again. Or my resolve. What I tell you is truth. And what I offer is a freedom you won't find elsewhere."
The scarred man crossed his arms, "Even if we believe you, why should we believe that you can kill Calephas? If you fail, it's all our necks and for nothing."
"And if we do nothing, your necks will all be his anyway. One day he will know you are part of the resistance and that will be the end of each of you. I have several advantages that are not apparent and that I will not reveal. But you may count on my word as a man of Arabarb that I will find a way into Calephas's presence and it will mean the last hour of his life has come."
"You want to get into his bed, pretend to be one of his little whore boys?" the gray-beard who had not been studying him asked. "Rumor has it that he's been killing any boy he touches afterward. The monster!" He spat on the ground.
Lindsey shook his head. "He won't kill me. He'll never get a chance to touch me."
"How can you be so certain?"
"I will not say. But what I need is protection and a chance to be noticed and brought to Calephas. The rest, mobilizing enough of the resistance to prevent any of Calephas's cronies from consolidating power after his death I leave up to you. But for the sake of Arabarb, you must be ready."
"Metamor promised this before," Brigsne said with a caustic snap. "You three are the first Metamorians I've seen in a year. All the rest died when Gmork came. He'll catch you too."
"That is for me to worry about, not you. I am prepared for that."
"And you want us to do what if that happens? You'll betray us all to him."
"I will not," Lindsey insisted with another shake of his head. "I do have certain protections that should keep him from noticing that I am a Metamorian. And I will kill Gmork too when I am there. But unless I can reach Fjellvidden, it won't happen at all. I don't have any way of going there by myself, and not enough money to pay my own way. Please help me give you a chance."
"Everyone who Gmork captures betrays us," the scarred man said with a growl. "Everyone. My own cousin fingered me after he was taken and I only barely escaped with my life. And I can't risk staying in Vaar much longer either."
"Then you have nothing else to lose," Lindsey pointed out.
"And I'm known north of here. I cannot help you."
The only man present who had not spoken, the gray-bearded man with high cheekbones and blue eyes that seemed only to see Lindsey at last spoke, his voice light and familiar in a way that Lindsey felt his limbs go cold despite the Inn's warmth. "I can help you on your way north, Lhindesaeg. But first you must prove to me that you are who you say you are. Tell me of your childhood."
Lindsey stared a little more closely at the man, but despite the apparent familiarity of the eyes, he knew he'd never seen a man before with such a visage. "My childhood? Did you know my parents?"
"Perhaps," he replied softly. "Speak of them."
Lindsey swallowed, and at a reassuring nudge from Pharcellus, found a voice that had already become strained of childhood memory. He recounted in clipped, brief words the many events that their visit to his old home had surfaced. The other three men frowned but said nothing, eying each other and their fourth companion. Brigsne and Gerhard shared a few quiet words before both resumed watching impassively by the door. Quoddy and Pharcellus both watched the boy with sympathy.
And all through it the fourth man listened and asked pointed questions, revealing that he knew a great deal more than a stranger might, or even an occasional friend like Gerhard would know. Lindsey was unsettled by each but continued, hoping that he was providing enough details to convince whoever this was that he was who he claimed to be.
Eventually, he was tired of the questions and of laying bare his past. He waved his hands in the air and shook his head back and forth. "No more! Please, no more! I was just at my old home yesterday and found it abandoned. I do not wish to dwell on it anymore!"
The gray-bearded man blinked eyes that were suddenly remarkably soft. "No more is needed. You have more than convinced me. I'm sorry you saw your home that way, Lhindesaeg." And from the way the man said his name so fondly and with such gentleness, Lindsey felt his heart tense as he gazed with rapt curiosity at the man's face. The eyes and the face surrounding it should not have had a beard.
The man put a gloved hand at one corner of the beard and began to pull. The beard, so convincing and typical of a man of Arabarb, pulled free, with only a faint mucus between its false back the man's smooth cheeks. Everyone stared in dumbfounded shock, especially the natives of Vaar. Lindsey stammered in wonder as the wrinkled skin and grizzly beard gave way to a gentle but lined countenance. No man was this.
"Mother!" Lindsey gasped in recognition as soon as the beard was halfway free. The familiar face, lined and grayed with the decade that had passed, still managed a warm smile as she finished removing the counterfeit beard. She wiped the glue onto her sleeves and wriggled her lips and cheek to stretch them out.
Elizabaeg set the beard aside and smiled anew. "Aye, Lhindesaeg. You look... as you would have if you were a boy. But I thought in your letters you said Metamor had made you a full-grown man?"
"It did. This," he gestured at his youthful form, "is a more recent change. I will tell you more another time." He looked to the others assembled. "I take it you have kept this secret from everyone."
Elizabaeg glanced at the three men sitting next to her and smiled to each faintly. "Forgive the deception. But I am wanted by Calephas even more than any of you."
The blond-haired man had leaned as far as possible as he could away from her when she'd begun removing the beard. Now he pressed closer, shoving a finger in her face. "You lied to us! Who are you really?"
"The wife of Alfwig. The mother of Andrig who," she nodded to Lindsey, "I learned accompanied Calephas to Metamor two Winters ago and turned him over to the Keepers. Bitterly he escaped and when he returned, he sent soldiers after Alfwig and I. We've been in hiding since then. I took my place here in the resistance and began posing as a man." She turned back to the boy and smiled, though her eyes held a pain she did not disclose. "If not for Lhindesaeg's letter letting us know Andrig was a live, we would never have known to flee and both of us would be dead."
"It's true," Brigsne said with a grunt. "They passed through Vaar shortly before Calephas's soldiers came for them. This was before Gmork destroyed our network. But I didn't know the courier who took our old contact's place was the selfsame Elizabaeg. You are very good at disguises. I never guessed."
"Nor I," the gray-bearded man admitted. The other two grunted.
"What of Father?" Lindsey asked.
"Is Andrig posing as a tavern wench?" the scarred man suggested with crooked smile.
Elizabaeg took a deep breath and shook her head. "Alfwig stayed closer to Fjellvidden in hopes that he'd hear some word of Andrig. But we've heard nothing." She turned to the boy and shook her head. "Two months ago Calephas's soldiers arrested him. No one has heard word of him since."
Lindsey's chest tightened and Pharcellus put a hand to his back to steady him. He swallowed heavily and gripped the table. "We'll find out when we go to Fjellvidden. I will find out." He stared into his mother's eyes and lowered his voice, "Mother, please. Help me. Help me kill that monster."
Elizabaeg stared at him with obvious pain in her eyes. She then looked at the bird and dragon at his side and frowned. "Who are you that you would help my... boy?"
"You know me, Elizabaeg. It is I, Pharcellus."
She blinked and stared at him for several seconds. Her mouth hung agape a moment before she could finally say in stupefied wonder. "Pharcellus? The dragon?"
Now everyone stared at the young man posing as Lindsey's older brother. He smiled through his magically created beard and nodded. "It is I. I am... Lhindesaeg's older brother... Chellag. I am going to help him. This is my home too."
"My name is Quoddy," the gull squawked. "I'm here to help Lindsey too."
Elizabaeg licked her lips and turned back to her boy. "I will help you, Lhindesaeg. I will bring you to Fjellvidden. I don't like it at all, but I believe in you. I have always believed in you." She glanced at the men who regarded her with shadowed brows and frowned. "We will discuss what support we can give you when you kill Calephas and Gmork. In the morning we will leave Vaar and I will tell you then what we've decided."
They all breathed a sigh of relief. Lindsey climbed off the table bench and smiled. He longed to run into his mother's arms and bury his face in her cloak, but knew that would ruin any hope he had of winning the resistance's support. All he had was a mother's support. That would not be enough.
"Arabarb needs us to give up everything if we want to have anything left at all." Lindsey hoped they listened.
Pharcellus and Quoddy followed him as they left the room hiding behind the little pantry and climbed back up the stairs to their room where they were enthusiastically greeted by Gerhard's dogs. Gerhard also followed them, but he didn't shut the door behind them when they reached the room. Though cold with night and empty, Gerhard, drawing a long knife, checked every corner, the window, and the main door. Finding nothing, he bolted both door and shutters before putting the knife back in its goatskin sheath.
Dark eyes fixed Lindsey as Gerhard's basso rumble broke the silence. "I'll be back in a few hours. Sleep. Tomorrow you will start your journey to Fjellvidden. I truly hope you know what you are doing." With that he disappeared down the stairs. Pharcellus shut the door behind him.
"I should tell my brothers," Quoddy said as softly as his avian throat would allow. "They can gather whatever friends they have made and meet us in Fjellvidden. We'll need their help too."
Lindsey nodded. "Tomorrow morning. It won't be long now."
Quoddy nodded and settled down on one end of the pallet, shrinking in size until he was a normal seagull.
Pharcellus put one hand on Lindsey's shoulder and asked, "Are you okay?"
Lindsey smiled up to him; it was easy to forget that he wasn't really his older brother sometimes. "My mother is alive and my father might be too. I have answers long before I ever expected to. I'll be all right."
They laid down on the pallet, and drew the quilts to cover them. They did not bother doffing their garments. It was cold. The hounds clustered around them and helped warm them. As Lindsey lay there, pondering everything that had happened and feeling very much the ten year old he'd become, he rolled over and looked at Pharcellus and asked, "Did you know?"
The older teenager, just a man enough to have braids in his scraggly beard, rolled over and looked at him in the dark. "Did I know what?"
"That she was my mother. Through the disguise. You didn't look surprised."
Though he couldn't see it, he knew Pharcellus smiled. "No. The last thing I would have expected to see was your mother." He rolled back over and said nothing more.
Lindsey sighed, closed his eyes, and wondered what tomorrow would be like.
April 9, 708 CR
Quoddy left shortly after first light the next morning. Before he left Pharcellus drew him aside and the two chatted amiably until the seagull could delay his errand no longer. The dragon begged him to bring word of his friendship to his younger brothers the cormorant and puffin, then the two gently hugged, and the bird flew out the window into the crisp dawn air.
The air was decidedly colder that morning, with low, gray clouds portending a late snow that day. Lindsey regarded it with a sudden hopefulness; a light snow would discourage Calephas's soldiers who were likely sick of it after a winter of nothing but white and bitter cold, but it would not hamper their travel. Also, he realized with chagrin, children loved snow, and he had to remind himself that he couldn't waste his time in throwing snowballs or building snowforts, even if they had enough fall by evening.
Gerhard brought them a meal of plank fried fish and eggs which both boy and faux teenager ate gratefully. The woodsman tended his dogs and cleaned up the messes they'd left in one corner of the room before announcing that he would be returning south. "I have things that need tending before I can return to help. Eli willing, we will see each other again soon."
"Thank you for your help, Gerhard. May Yahshua bless you and your kin." Lindsey bowed and tried to appear dignified for a ten-year old. The man's lips twitched as if contemplating a smile, but none appeared. After he finished gathering his things, he and the dogs went back down the stairs and the two were left alone.
A few minutes later, Elizabaeg, once more attired in the guise of a burly, gray-bearded trader, came up the stairs and instructed them to gather their things and follow her. Her voice was husky and bore no trace of either feminine gentleness of motherly fire. They had long since gathered their gear and so after they slung their packs over their shoulders they followed down the stairs and out into the stables. An unfamiliar wagon was already hitched with a pair of horses and to this she directed them. The back of the wagon was enclosed, but not nearly so tall enough to allow even Lindsey to stand without crouching at his waist. But it was long enough for them to lay down, and the bedding of fresh straw and blankets that must have been draped near a fire welcomed them with a humble comfort. This waited for them in a recessed interior that could easily be concealed if necessary. Lindsey wondered how often his mother had been forced to use it.
There they lay, the front of the wagon bed open to the buckboard where Elizabaeg sat with sword and axe in ready reach. A long bow with a quiver of iron-tipped arrows nestled beneath the seat. One side of the wagon's interior was filled with marked casks. Foodstuffs, Lindsey knew. Above them, draped across wooden supports, were several tanned hides from elk and bear. Once Elizabaeg closed and latched the back of the wagon, the only light came in from the front.
"There is a hatch beneath you," she said as she came around the front and smiled to them through the fake beard. "If we run into trouble I want you both to escape. Do not put your lives at risk for me. Lhindesaeg, please, you are willing to risk your life. Let me risk mine. I cannot get to Calephas but you might. Do you understand me? Do you promise?"
The very thought of leaving his mother to die horrified him and he found himself trembling and shaking his head back and forth. But Pharcellus put a hand on his back that he could swear had claws. Still, it warmed him in a unexpected manner and the fear that the very suggestion of his mother's death had brought faded. And even though the horror remained, he slowly managed to force his head to nod. "I promise, Mother. We will escape if we can. I hope and pray we won't have to."
"As do I," Elizabaeg let out a long slow breath, and pulled on a heavy bear-skin cloak. The head was still attached and this she drew over hear fake hair so that the bear's snout and glass eyes seemed to snarl at the world. Lindsey pondered for a moment the idea of his mother being transformed into a real bear by Metamor's curses.
She gestured at a little lever in the flooring above their heads. "Until we leave Vaar I'm going to lower the false floor and close the front of the wagon. Don't make any noise until I open it again. If I am searched, you should be safe. It is cramped, but it will only be for a little while."
"We won't make a sound," Lindsey promised. Pharcellus echoed him a moment later.
"Good. We have a long road ahead of us. And do not fear. I will tell you all we discussed last night once it is safe." Wit that she gestured for them to pull the lever. Pharcellus did so, and the flooring draped with the skins pulled down over top of them, confining them in a darkened interior. Light seeped in through a series of holes bored out of the wooden frame in front of them, but it was dim and what air came through smelled heavily of horse. They heard a latch close and Elizabaeg shuffling on the buckboard, as well as the snorting of horses and the muffled activity of the town.
And then a moment later the wagon lurched and they began their journey. Lindsey closed his eyes and tried to keep as still as possible. The warm blanket and Pharcellus's proximity kept him from feeling too nervous. The air flowing through the holes in front of them turned cold and crisp, but it didn't smell just of horse anymore. It also smelled of the refuse that littered the city streets. Not for the hundredth time Lindsey was grateful that he grew up in the forest and spent most of his days away from cities. Even Metamor despite its remarkable drainage system still managed to stink in ways he had never gotten used to.
The sounds changed around them much the way they had the evening before, until at last the wagon came to a stop and the sound of a soldier's voice accosted them. Lindsey listened and remained as still as he could as his mother grunted of her business. Her voice was so masculine and husky he couldn't recognize her at all.
The guards were not bored enough to search her things and they were allowed to leave the village without being searched. Still, it was several long minutes before they heard the latch to the front of the wagon open and his mother's voice calling, "You can lift the floor again. It's safe."
Pharcellus pushed on the lever and light flooded their little hiding place as cool air rushed in to greet them. Lindsey pulled his legs up close and forced himself to sit up. Beyond the buckboard he could see tall trees and brooding sky. No snow yet but he knew it wouldn't be much longer.
"Are you two okay back there?" Elizabaeg asked.
"We're doing all right," Lindsey replied. "This looks like it took some effort to build."
"Your father made it," she replied after a moment's pause. "Right after we were told that Andrig had died. Alfwig meant the hiding place for me; he was afraid Calephas's soldiers might kill him and rape me. That's when I started training my voice and disguising myself. There are few of that monster's soldiers who are low enough to take such interest in a man."
Even with the dragon gently pressing a hand that at times felt more like a paw to his back to comfort him, Lindsey still spoke in the voice of a frightened child. "Do you... do you know what happened to Father?"
She sighed and shook her head. She did not look at him, but kept her focus on the road ahead. "I wish I knew. He took on work as a tanner outside Fjellvidden; the master there knew him and they pretended to be master and journeyman. I still ship his wares to Vaar and other villages along the way. Two months ago, while I was here in Vaar, one of the monster's captains complained of a tear in a coat he purchased from Master Ture. Ture wasn't there, but Alfwig was. The took Alfwig and we never heard what happened to him."
Elizabaeg's voice caught and Lindsey knew it to be tears. His heart clenched tight and he said nothing. The horses clopped along the old road. Birds chirped and sang in the trees as they made their nests. All else was quiet.
For several minutes they rode in silence before she regained her voice. It was quieter but firm, resting on a foundation that even Calephas with all his foul deeds could not upend. "The apprentices told Master Ture, and Ture told me what happened when I returned. Even the few brave souls who risk serving in Fjellvidden castle knew nothing of Alfwig. They said only that he was taken to Gmork. I... fear he is dead."
"That is one more crime that Gmork will pay for," Lindsey snarled through clenched teeth. "Are you sure you can trust Ture? What if he betrayed Father?"
"Then he would have betrayed me too. But, yes, I do not trust him the way I once did. I will not be taking you to him. There are others near Fjellvidden that can be trusted. I believe."
"You don't know?"
She shook her head and her shoulders slumped beneath the bear skin cloak. Seeing her only from the back made her look just like a Keeper. "There's no way to be certain about anyone's loyalties anymore, my... son." She turned her head, destroying the ursine illusion, and smiled with one eye. "I knew you had been made a man by Metamor, but I still think of you as my daughter."
Pharcellus grunted as if he wanted to say something, but when Lindsey looked at him, the teenager shrugged. Lindsey turned back to his mother and shrugged as well. "I've been a man for a long time now. I remember growing up your daughter, but I feel more like a son now. For a long time I wanted to be a woman again, but..." Memories of his brief time as a kangaroo flooded him and he flinched from them. Why couldn't he have become that so many years ago? "I don't think I do anymore. I want to stay a man now."
The smile in Elizabaeg's eye faded, but she did not contradict him. "Son then. But wasn't there a man you loved? Zhypar? What of him?"
Lindsey closed his eyes and fought not to cry. He truly did, but even the mention of his name felt like a dagger piercing his heart. Pharcellus's arms wrapped about him and held him close. His bout of weeping made Elizabaeg turn completely around and peer down into the shadowed wagon. "Lhindesaeg? What happened?"
It was Pharcellus who replied for him. "Zhypar Habakkuk died a few months ago. They were on a great quest to defeat an evil whose origins are ancient even to dragons. Zhypar gave his life to defeat that evil and he saved Lindsey and many others." The dragon's eyes lowered. "The pain is still too near for Lindsey. Their love was... fodder for tragedy." Pharcellus put his chin atop Lindsey's head to still it from trembling before adding, "I cannot explain it any better than that."
Elizabaeg's eyes widened and she reached out a hand and stroked Lindsey's smooth cheeks gently. "Forgive me. I will not say his name again. Cry now. Pharcellus, please take care of him."
At his mother's touch, Lindsey finally let the tears he'd been struggling against to come free. All he could see was that red-furred kangaroo bounding through the halls of Metamor, smiling, waving his ears, lifting a mazer at the Deaf Mule, writing in his books, and lost in the nightmares of his visions. How much Lindsey wished he'd been able to shoulder some of the burden that Habakkuk had reserved for himself.
And his heart ached anew when he recalled that foul night when he and Habakkuk had begun undressing each other in the swamps of Marzac, only to see and be reminded of how the Curses had separated them so completely and made a mockery of their love. The wail the kangaroo had given at seeing that Lindsey was a man still roared around her like the rush of waves at high tide.
Lindsey rocked in the dragon's arms, glad for their warmth and strength, but locked in a whirligig of unpleasant reverie. He passed from the tent to the long descent into the bowels of the Chateau, hand in paw with Habakkuk, through a stairwell that seemingly had no end and gave off no light, through a hallway elegantly carved yet macabre in purpose, until they reached the Hall of Unearthly Light where they saw the nullity of the crack Yajakali had rent. And there, Lindsey gasped in horror at the Marquis's twisted warping of his flesh.
Pharcellus put his face against his own, the beard tickling his cheeks, finally rescuing the boy and sparing him having to relive the horror of the carnal union the Marquis forced them to commit atop the profane Dais. He thrust open his eyes and spasmed as if leaping away from the memories themselves.
"I've got you, little brother," Pharcellus whispered in his ear. "They can't hurt you anymore, little brother."
The snows began gentle and light about an hour after they left Vaar. The flakes landed in the bear-skin coat but quickly melted. Those that landed in the wagon melted even faster. They saw no one else along the road and for a time traveled in silence.
To help Lindsey feel better, the more mischievous side of the dragon emerged. Once the boy had calmed down and stopped weeping, Pharcellus began making silly faces. At first they were no more than contortions of cheek, eye, and tongue. Eventaully though, as Lindsey's grin began to widen, the dragon allowed the magic keeping him human to fade ever so slightly on his tongue. What flopped from his mouth and dangled was a brilliant blue and wiggled around like a stuck eel. Elizabaeg looked back once then quickly looked away in horror.
But once the snows started they stopped and watched it fall. Lindsey rolled onto his back, put his hands behind his head, and stared into the sky. Boughs of pines and alder already beginning to gleam with their fresh white gowns competed with the gray sky for his attention. He sincerely hoped that Quoddy was not having any trouble flying.
He sighed and finally managed to say, "I'm feeling better now, Mother."
"I'm sorry I brought you pain. I didn't know it would hurt so much."
Lindsey frowned but glanced quickly at his 'older-brother' propped on one elbow looking out into the snowy air. Pharcellus didn't look down at him, but his presence was enough comfort. "I didn't either. I think the longer I'm a boy, the more like a boy I'm becoming. If that makes sense."
"No, it did not. How long have you been a boy?"
"A week now. The spell will last until I will to change back into a man. I won't do that until I'm in Calephas's presence. That's when I kill him."
"If it were anyone else but you, I wouldn't do it," Elizabaeg replied with a tremble in her voice. She no longer attempted a man's basso rumble but allowed her voice to be that of a worried mother. "I wouldn't do it."
"It may be our only chance."
She lowered her head. "I know."
Lindsey exchanged a quick glance with Pharcellus, then rolled over onto his stomach and climbed up behind the buckboard to put a hand on his mother's shoulder. "I want to do this. For you, for Father, for Andrig. I want to do this. Don't be afraid for me. Just pray and help me."
Elizabaeg clenched her eyes tight, letting go of the reins long enough to put her hand on his own and hold it tight. She let go a moment later and turned her face briefly to his to smile. "I will. I promised you I would and I will. I love you, my little one. My Lhindesaeg."
"I love you too, Mother." Lindsey hugged her gently, then sat back against the wagon top. The road was winding through mostly level terrain, though he could see that it dropped sharply away only fifty paces to their left. Everything beyond was obscured by snow. "What happened after we left last night?"
She shook her head and turned back to the road. "Oh, the men argued as men always do. They didn't like that I'd been lying to them, but Brigsne and Gerhard brought them around in the end."
"So they'll help us?"
Her eyes grew distant and she didn't answer for several long seconds. His cheeks and hands began to feel the cold of the snow. "Not as much as you would like. They will follow us to Fjellvidden in a few days with what weapons they can find but they assured me it won't be much. They did promise to ask those in the surrounding villages to join them, but they won't compel them."
"We really need a few dozen men," Lindsey pointed out with a scowl. He tucked hands into his armpits. "At the very least. A hundred or more would be better but I doubt we'd be able to conceal that many. Whoever can come will have to be enough. Maybe Quoddy's brothers will have better luck."
"They don't think you will succeed. They've promised to stay in Fjellvidden only a few days. You have to strike at your first opportunity and succeed."
Lindsey mulled that over for a moment before deciding it was too cold. He climbed back into the wagon and laid down in the recessed bed. Pharcellus draped the hides over him and smiled. Lindsey set his chin on his hands and sighed. "How long will it take to reach Fjellvidden?"
"Four days. If the weather remains pleasant."
That sounded right to him. He grunted and lay quietly, lifting his eyes to watch the snow. Only in Arabarb could that be considered pleasant weather.
They paused to eat a little salted pork around noon, then continued after letting the horses rest for not quite an hour. They passed a gloomy trader in the middle of the afternoon but otherwise they saw no one else that day along the road. The occasional elk or moose risking a crossing, but nothing else.
To pass the time, Pharcellus described some of the missions he had undertaken for Metamor. Most of them were courier missions, each of which he embellished with draconic flair until it seemed the whole world hung in the balance with each message that he carried. But those few where he actually went into combat against Nasoj's forces were given special attention and intricate detail. Lindsey laughed frequently as his companion expounded on his daring feats and mischievous confounding of the enemy.
Elizabaeg seemed to enjoy them, but whenever she spoke it was to ask Lindsey more about life at Metamor. The boy did his best to describe what it was like living in a city of animals that walked and talked, children that, like him, were truly adults, and especially those who, also like him, had once been the other gender and the challenges they faced. His mother listened patiently, and even though she'd met Quoddy the night before, she seemed to have a difficult time imagining what a city of animal-men must be like.
"Was Quoddy the first Keeper you'd ever seen?" Lindsey asked after she shook her head in wonder for the tenth time.
"No," she admitted, half-turned back so the illusion of bear remained. "I did see a tiger who was being led into Fjellvidden last year in chains. But I never met any of the spies that Metamor sent until Quoddy."
"One day you'll have to come see it," he told her, the hope in his voice plain. "It's like nothing else you've ever seen."
She demurred at the suggestion and asked him for other details. He obliged, disappointed, but relieved to try to describe the place he now called home. He did not speak of the home he'd visited only two days before, nor did she ask of it. Pharcellus didn't speak of it either, preferring instead to speak of places far away in the Giantdowns where none of them had ever been.
The snow slackened toward evening and the clouds broke up completely by twilight. They passed up staying in the two villages they passed along the way and opted instead to sleep in a little culvert off the main road where they wouldn't easily be seen. Pharcellus promised to tend to the roads to hide their tracks through the fresh-fallen snow while Lindsey and Elizabaeg continued into the culvert.
After lighting a lantern and hoisting it on a pole above the wagon, Elizabaeg led them between a narrow fissure of rocks and across ice-encrusted stones. The horses snorted as their hooves broke the ice in patches, but they never ventured into the stream. Lindsey gazed behind them and watched as his friend grew into something that blocked all sight of the road. He chuckled and turned back to his mother.
"I didn't want to mention this, but we found Father's secret box."
Elizabaeg guided the wagon beneath an outcropping of rock where it would be protected from the elements and casual inspection. She took the lantern down and frowned. "You did? Alfwig hated being parted from it. I'm surprised you remembered where it was."
"He showed me one time." Lindsey sat cross-legged on top of the wagon and grimaced. "We only found figures in wood of each of us, Pharcellus, and... Zhypar. And, I didn't want to say this, because it hurt him so badly, we found Pharcellus's egg shells."
She turned and gave him a strange look, opened her mouth to say something, but then turned quickly away. "Aye, that would have hurt him. Don't speak of it again."
And if Lindsey knew his mother at all, it apparently hurt her too. "What is it?"
"Just do not speak of it again." Elizabaeg jumped down from the wagon and took out a bag of feed for the horses. "No good can come of it."
Lindsey blinked and looked back at the shadowed outline of a dragon crouching in the woods. Little bursts of light from the other end made him shimmer with silver radiance. "I won't. I promise."