Benlunar - The Winter Special
It’s Winter in Benlunar!
The cold of the mountain bites with icicle teeth
Sharp and bitter it cuts like dagger in sheath
Benlunar folk know to stay home by the hearth
Swapping stories and songs until the season is past
Some legends are false but others might be true
What you believe of course is up to you
But when the sun is gone and taken the warmth with her
It’s hard to tell truth from lies in the darkness of winter
The snow was well into its third day of falling. The first night had been a delight. The second a site but the third was a nuisance. The residents of Benlunar were at this moment trudging through the knee high drift, on their way to the town square, getting soaked socks and shivery fingers. The sun was once again setting into the valley behind a thick layer of grey cloud, like a gold coin disappearing into the Stave Church’s money box. Chloe and George Bergren stamped their feet at the Church entrance, hoping to dislodge the worst of the snow and suffer less wetness during the upcoming service. They were nervous. This was their tenth winter in Benlunar, but the first where they were expected to perform in the Lang Natt show. They had been practising for weeks and now the whole town was finding their seats in the cavernous circular hall. Thankfully, the church hall was heated by four large fireplaces around the edges, behind the banks of seats. Chloe admired the beautiful candle arrangements in the suspended chandeliers and George reached out to see if a sprig of holly was still sharp. It was and he pulled his finger back quickly, putting it into his mouth and tasting a drop of blood.
“Ninny.” his sister whispered. George glared at her, pulled his other hand back and went to hit her arm but his strike was swiftly caught by his mother.
“Enough.” she spoke sharply, cutting the fight short. Now was not the time for nonsense. Now was the time for focus and best behaviour. Brother Thomas was there, greeting everyone in his traditional robes of white and green. Some of the other children involved in the show were sitting to one side and upon seeing them come in Brother Thomas signalled for Chloe and George to join them.
Chloe didn’t like sitting on the floor, the stone was cold and her knees always ached from sitting cross legged. George didn’t seem to mind, he plonked his bottom next to Anna Grevling and began to trace the words and patterns on the stones with his finger. Once everybody had set their gloves and hats to dry by the various fires they found their seats. The hubbub of the crowd settled down and Brother Thomas addressed the town.
“Friends, families, neighbours, welcome! The last of the visitors are gone, the leaves have all fallen and winter is once again with us. I’d ask you if it was still snowing out there but I think half of it might have just been brought into the hall!” There was a ripple of polite laughter. “But though the mountain may be cold, my heart is made warm by the sea of familiar faces before me. I’m not going to lie to you, it has not been an easy year.” George and Chloe looked up to the crowd and saw several solemn faces and nodding heads. Brother Thomas elaborated. “Our community has suffered tragedy.” Chloe saw Brother Thomas glance briefly at a middle aged woman. “And we’ve had loved ones move away.” he continued, smiling at the man and woman next to her. Chloe looked to her classmates and was reminded that they were missing two people. Kilde Vichas and Lilian Lausanne. No wonder the show felt so empty this year. George was secretly happy that Lilian had moved away, she would only have ruined the show. Brother Thomas shifted the mood, “But we have also had boons. Eva and Alex have recently welcomed a new little one into our community.” There was a small round of applause and murmurs of congratulations, “And who could forget the generosity of our visitors this summer?” The applause grew louder and even Chloe and George smiled at the shared good fortune. When the various in jokes and pats on the backs ceased Brother Thomas continued. “But tonight is not about the past. It is about our current predicament!” He said this with a wide smile on his face and the townsfolk all giggled and shot knowing looks at the younger members of the congregation. “Yes, friends we seem to be experiencing a spot of bother. Our good friend the sun has disappeared!” Some of the crowd gasped in mock horror, “Indeed! A real tragedy. However! All hope is not lost. Tonight marks one week until Lang Natt which means there is still time to convince the sun to come back to us! We do this of course by singing, dancing, telling stories and showing her that Benlunar is a place of love and warmth, filled with fun, friends and family. And! If we do well, which I have every confidence that we will, then the sun will be back to brighten our days in the spring. So! Friends, I have this favour to ask of you. Will you help me to show the sun what she is missing??” There was a loud cheer from the town. “Then I hereby declare the week of Lang Natt started!” An even louder cheer resounded around the hall and the small orchestra seated near the children began to play. This was Chloe and George’s cue to stand up and begin the show.
Their song and story went off without too many hitches. A few fluffed lines and a couple of wardrobe issues were the only real errors. This year the children were telling the tale of when Caroditte, the heroine, outsmarted Enoch, God of Chaos. Enoch had appeared to her in the form of a black heron and promised to end the plague in Caroditte’s village. Enoch of course was only pretending to be nice to distract everyone from his trickery. Caroditte agreed to his terms but only if she could watch him work his magic. With Caroditte following him closely at all times, he was unable to slip away and so the village was saved thanks to her patience and persistence. Chloe looked on with envious eyes at the girl who played Caroditte. She was two years older and had memorised all her lines in just three days. George was distracted by a tear in his costume which threatened to undermine his role as villager number three.
“Alas Caroditte, my three children are too sick to enjoy the Lang Natt bread you have so graciously given.” he said confidently when his time came to repeat the line. Chloe had no lines but she had the very important job of holding Enoch’s wings for whenever he appeared. She enjoyed the boos and jeers the puppet received each time it reared its ugly head. The piece ended with another song, the chorus of which was sung by everyone in the church. When it was finished the room clapped and cheered and celebrated the young storytellers and the triumph of cleverness over chaos.
Brother Thomas stepped forward once more and applauded his appreciation along with the rest of the crowd. Once the children of Benlunar had taken their seats on the stone floor again, he turned back to the audience, took a deep breath and looked as though he was about to say something. He was distracted, however, by movement and a small shuffling sound. The crowd followed his gaze to one of the entrances to the circle where a woman was walking into the empty space. Everyone in the town recognized her as Mrs Thoresan. She was the old lady who lived in the big house near the mountain path. A smattering of whispers and shrugs spread through the audience as she made her way slowly towards the centre of the hall. She was wearing a traditional Benlunar dress, beautifully crafted in dark blue and red colours with white flowers stitched along the hems and sleeves. She approached Brother Thomas with a kind smile on her face, took his hand in hers and patted it gently signifying her thanks and respect. Brother Thomas gave her a small bow in return and she gestured for him to take his seat which he graciously did. Mrs Thoresan then turned to bow to the children by way of thanks. Chloe and George flushed with embarrassment, they turned to each other, wide eyed and smiling. This acknowledgement from an elder was a great honour and its importance was not lost on any of the young performers. She then turned back to the crowd. Everyone was waiting with baited breath to hear what she had to say, but they would have to wait just a while longer as Mrs Thoresan raised her arms up to the sky, her fingers spread wide and closed her eyes. She remained motionless for a second, in silent meditation. Some people joined her in closing their eyes, breathing deeply and remaining still as was the way of the Nocta. George did not close his eyes. So he was amazed to witness the candles begin to dim and the hall darken as Mrs Thoresan slowly brought her hands down with a long exhalation of her breath. When the lights were low and the people were ready. She began her story.
“Where do shadows go when it is dark? During these long winter nights, we might ask ourselves such questions. Each year we tell the tale of the sleeping sun, how she must be roused from slumber and return to bring us brightness. But we have forgotten the whole story. There is another player in this pageant. We spoke of him when I was little but with every winter since his name was mentioned less and less. I can see on some of your faces that you know of whom I speak, although you may not remember his name for you were barely babes when it was spoken last. The dark emissary of the sun, the shadow man, Navnghast.”
A chill wind whistled around the hall, Chloe pulled her costume tightly around her shoulders. She didn’t like scary stories, and this was starting to feel like a scary story. Mrs Thoresan continued.
“Yes. I see that you remember now. You know that to ask that the sun return to us is selfish really. Why should she shine on us when we behave so irresponsibly in her light and heat. That is why when she disappears she sends Navnghast. He goes door to door under cover of darkness, of which he himself is made, taking names and passing judgement on those who have been bad. If you earn the light of the sun by being kind and showing virtue then he will pass by your door. You may even receive a little gift the morning after Lang Natt, if you are very lucky.” She winked at a little girl sitting in the audience who was gripping her mother’s skirt in fright. “But…” she turned quickly back to the crowd, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, “if you are judged and found unworthy of the Sun’s light then Navnghast will put your name on his scroll, he will enter your home, he will find you sleeping and…” the audience collectively leaned forward so as to catch every word, “he will place something under your bed. And there it will sit for five long days, lest you upset him further and he takes you away. What is it? You ask, what will I dread to find beneath my bed? You can fight and you can wish but you cannot avoid the terrible, stinking… fish!” At that moment, Mrs Thoresan reached into her sleeve and pulled out a real fish. The crowd gasped and laughed in shock. The front row reeled back in mock terror as she brandished it at them and wriggled it in their faces. She laughed at their fear and the tension disappeared from the hall. Even the candles seemed to glow brighter. The Benlunar townsfolk clapped and cheered at the story, so expertly told. Many figured that Brother Thomas had been in on the joke the whole time and they swapped reactions and mock warnings with each other as they slowly left the church and headed home. Chloe and George teased each other mercilessly, each claiming that the other had been more scared of the story and its shadowy protagonist. Friends and neighbours waved goodbye as they carved paths to their front doors through the ever deepening snow. That night, Benlunar slept peacefully. Chloe and George wrapped themselves in wool blankets and drifted into dreamful slumber. Everyone in the town was blissfully ignorant of any strangeness happening in the night. And so it wasn’t until the next morning that every house in Benlunar discovered the fishes that had been nailed to their front doors.
In George and Chloe’s household it was their mother who found their fish first. It was a rather large, pink bellied salmon, kept fresh by the cold. It took her several tries to pull the nail out but eventually it came loose. She brought the fish in and plonked it onto the kitchen table with a wet slap. Like many other residents she simply assumed that some silly kids had played a trick on them. She even briefly considered that it might be her own twins that were responsible. But their expressions of genuine surprise at the sight of it told her that that couldn’t be true.
“Was it Navnghast??” asked George, prodding the fish’s eye with his finger.
“Of course not,” said his mother, slapping his hand away. “It will be the Borvild boys playing pranks.” George was not convinced. Chloe, the more curious of the two opened the front door and looked down their street. They lived in the eastern part of Benlunar, where the houses were squat and tightly packed together.
“They’re on all the doors Mama!” she squealed in delight. Their mother had been so distracted by their own fish, that she had failed to notice the others. George ran to look, gulped and whispered to himself:
“Navnghast.”
A town meeting was called that afternoon. Some people actually brought their fish to the Stave Church. Someone was sent to find Mrs Thoresan but she was not in her house. A group was put together to find her but after scouring the entire town, she was nowhere to be found. Some people were angry, as if this was some joke in poor taste meant to scare their children. Others thought it was funny, even if just for the impressiveness of the feat. Some took it very seriously indeed and vowed to keep their fish under their beds for the next five nights, for fear of further retribution from some fabled bogeyman. Brother Thomas was expected to provide people with answers but even the Stave Church had had a minnow pinned to its door and he was just as confused as everyone else. One thing was agreed upon by all, the telling of the Navnghast story and the appearance of the fish was not a coincidence.
The children of Benlunar held their own meeting at the same time, although theirs had a very different atmosphere to it. Packed in like sardines, if you’ll excuse the phrase, into Eddy Vakker’s treehouse, a group of seven young friends heatedly discussed their theories.
“I think it was Mrs Thoresan.” said Ben.
“Don’t be silly,” rebuked his younger sister Kara, “She’s too old! She would have frozen to death after the first ten fishes.”
“I think it was my Dad. He goes fishing all the time.” said little Tim as he chewed on a liquorice root.
“Yes but he doesn’t have anywhere to store a hundred fish does he?” asked George.
“No. We have an attic. It’s dark up there.”
“What if…” interrupted Chloe, “It WAS Mrs Thoresan, but she didn’t do it herself?” This suggestion gave the group pause.
“What do you mean?” asked Sara Smorkopp, the eldest of the group and the heroine in last night’s show.
“Well, we all know that Mrs Thoresan is magic.” The group nodded, this was common knowledge in the Benlunar playground.
“She’s a witch!” Tim squealed in delight.
“But a good one.” said Ben to more nods and affirmative mumbles. Chloe continued with her theory:
“So what if she worked with someone, or something, to make sure Benlunar got taught a lesson.” The group did not want to speak the name that was on the tip of their tongues. It was George who braved the words first:
“Do you mean… Navnghast?”
“Maybe.” said Chloe. “Or some other spirits or even... demons.” The liquorice stick fell out of Tim’s mouth.
“It doesn’t make sense.” said Eddy, petulantly. “Mrs Thoresan said that Navnghast gives people fish if they’ve been bad. But every house in Benlunar got one. They can’t all be bad can they?” The children thought a while. Chloe and George swapped concerned looks. Sara Smorkopp pulled her periwinkle blue shawl over her blonde hair and spoke resolutely.
“If we’re going to know who's responsible then that’s what we have to find out. What has Benlunar done to have received this judgement.” The group split into teams. Ben and Kara were tasked with finding Mrs Thoresan and asking her about Navnghast. Tim and Eddy were to speak to Tim’s father and find out where all the fish could have come from. Chloe, George and Sara were to interview the residents of Benlunar and come up with reasons why the town had been judged by Navnghast. They all agreed to meet back at the tree house just before sun down to discuss their findings.
“Who do you think we should ask first?” enquired George as he and the two girls trudged through the snow to the centre of town. The sky was still cloudy but thankfully it had stopped snowing. Even so, the three of them pulled their thick coats tight to stave off the cold. The sleepy sun was low in the sky, a bright white circle in the clouds barely illuminating the path ahead.
“I’m not sure.” admitted Sara who was confidently carving a path for the smaller siblings. Chloe was about to suggest a few names when she saw someone up ahead. It was a young woman who she did not recognise. She was walking very slowly through the snow, carrying something round and pink. Occasionally she would slip and scream and throw her free arm up in the air to redress her balance.
“Who is that?” whispered Chloe. Her brother and Sara shrugged. As they drew closer, George squinted and stared at the struggling lady.
“Is she carrying a pig?” Chloe looked back at her and saw that the pink thing under her arm was indeed a little pig. It was wearing a comical little red coat and its nose had a small icicle hanging off the end of it. It was obvious to the kids why the lady was carrying it; if it was allowed to walk on the ground it would have been swallowed by the snow.
“Are you alright Miss?” asked Sara as they approached.
“Oh! Hello. Um, yes I think so. This path is quite slippery isn’t it?” She took a few shaky steps towards them and checked her pig to see if it was still safe.
“You need some hobnails.” said George.
“Some what?” George and Chloe lifted their feet to show the woman the soles of their boots. They were studded with little spikes that made navigating the snow much easier.
“Well look at that.” said the woman, her cheeks were flushed red from the effort of walking.
“What are you three doing out in the snow? You’ll catch a chill if you’re not careful.”
“We’re asking people about the fish on their doors.” said Chloe.
“We’re trying to find out why Benlunar has been bad.” George added, bluntly.
“But we’re not sure where to start.” admitted Sara.
The woman considered their reason.
“Yes it is strange isn’t it? I’m afraid I don’t know, I’m still quite new to Benlunar you see.” The children weren’t going to say anything, but that much had been obvious from her lack of skill in navigating the snow. “But I suppose if I was you,” she continued, “I would start at the heart of the town.” George screwed up his face in thought.
“Oh!” Chloe gasped in sudden realisation, “The Fox & Octopus!”
“Yes!” agreed Sara. They looked back at the woman and her little pig to see her smiling.
“That was my thinking.” she said. The children thanked her for the inspiration and walked past her, each scratching her pig’s chin or patting his head as they passed by.
“By the way,” she called out to them as they walked away, “Where can I get some of those boots?”
The Fox & Octopus was Benlunar’s primary drinking establishment. Rain or shine, snow or no its doors were open to weary travellers and locals alike. It was still morning so the main room was empty. The inn’s owners, Xander and Liny were busy installing a large barrel behind the bar. The empty one lay to one side, ready to go back down into the cellar for the winter. The three children stomped the snow off their boots as they crossed the threshold. The sound distracted Xander momentarily and the barrel nearly slipped from his grasp.
“Watch out!” shouted Liny.
“Sorry sorry! Be right with you kids!” The young ones happily installed themselves next to the burning fire, taking off their boots and warming their socks on the crackling heat. A large moose’s head, mounted on the wall, stared down at them from above the hearth. George admired its antlers, each one was bigger than his leg.
“How can we help?” asked Xander, smiling politely at the three friends, “can I get you a drink? Some Blackberry fire perhaps?” George smiled and was about to agree to the recommendation but Sara cut him off.
“I’m afraid we’re here on important business Mr Xander.”
“Oh… I see. Well how can I help then?” Liny came over, intrigued by the young girl’s official sounding tone.
“You have many patrons in this establishment every night do you not?”
“We close early on Mondays,” confirmed Liny, “but, yes, I suppose we do.”
“We were wondering,” said Chloe, her feet dangling off the edge of the soft armchair, “if you’ve heard or seen anything that might explain why everyone received a fish this morning?” The couple looked at each other, earnest and confused expressions on their faces. Xander turned back to the little girl,
“What do you mean exactly?” It was George who replied,
“Why would a spirit think Benlunar has been bad?” This seemed to make more sense to Xander who leaned back with his hands on his hips and considered the question.
“I suppose,” he said looking at his wife for affirmation, “that it would all depend on whose perspective you were looking at.” The children swapped excited looks,
“Perspective?” Sara parroted.
“Oh yes,” said Liny, “You see, what might be good for one is not necessarily good for another. The wolves are happy to find a lonely deer in the woods, but is the deer happy to be found by the wolves?” The flames were reflecting in her eyes, giving them a strangely menacing glow. George felt a shiver run down his spine, despite the heat of the fire. He glanced up to the moose, wondering if it had been happy to spy the hunter.
“So you’re saying that someone, or something, might be upset by something good that Benlunar has done?” asked Sara.
“It’s possible.” Xander crossed his arms in thought, “I certainly can’t think of anything evil that the town has done on purpose.”
“Can I just ask?” Liny spoke up and the children turned to look at her, “Who do you think was responsible for the fish.” George, Chloe and Sara all looked at each other. They were nervous to give their theory, for fear of sounding silly. It was Chloe who put it best,
“We were remembering Mrs Thoresan’s story about the demon who puts fish under the beds of bad people…” she trailed off, leaving the inn’s owners to fill in the rest. They both nodded in understanding.
“Well,” said Liny, clapping her hands together, “if that story has brought you here, then I’m afraid you’re in the wrong place.”
“Why?” asked George.
“Because we don’t deal in those kinds of spirits.”
The door of the Stave Church loomed tall and dark. Sara knocked on it hard with the base of her fist. The old wood shook on its hinges, sending a booming echo into the depths of the building. George picked his nose while they waited for a response. Chloe studied the intricate carvings of frogs that adorned the doors. Her favourite was a rather fat looking one with funny eyes on the bottom left.
“Maybe they’re out?” she suggested, but as soon as she stopped speaking the latch on the other side sounded and the doors opened revealing Brother Ulnar. At first he looked right above their heads in confusion, not seeing the three of them standing beneath him. But then he noticed them,
“Oh!” he exclaimed, “Good morning young ones.”
“Hello Brother.” said Sara, “may we come in? We have some questions for you and your brother.” Brother Ulnar stepped to one side and shut the door behind them. He led them down the entrance and into the main hall, muttering to himself as he went.
“Questions for the brothers. Well the brothers have questions, the books have the answers to most questions. But what if we question the books? Therein lies the path of the brothers hm?” Chloe didn’t realise that he was directing the question at her.
“Oh. Um, yes.” she said, unsure of how else to respond. Brother Ulnar brought the three of them to the church library, the door to which was at the back of the hall, near the entrance to the brother’s communal space. The door to the library was painted red and was slightly ajar. Sara had been in here before but it was George and Chloe’s first time inside. Chloe’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as Brother Ulnar pushed the door open to reveal a room nearly as tall as the central hall. Every wall was lined with shelves and on these shelves were hundreds and hundreds of books. Some of the shelves had broken under the weight of them. The colourful covers made the room look like it was mosaiced in bright bricks. It was warm in here, with a small fire burning brightly at the far end. A large armchair sat facing the flames. It was positioned on a well cleaned stone floor quite a distance from the fireplace. The fire itself was behind two layers of protective metal screens, extra precautions were necessary here considering the precious contents of the room. Nestled inside the armchair, covered in a patchwork blanket, reading a large book was Brother Thomas.
“Some young ones with questions brother.” said Brother Ulnar by way of introduction.
“Ah! Hello! Thank you Brother, I’ll be happy to answer their questions.” He stood up and bade the children to fetch chairs and stools so that they could all sit together. Once they were all comfortable Brother Ulnar shuffled off and the children explained their mission to Brother Thomas who smiled in understanding.
“I’ve been wondering exactly the same thing! I came in here to see if I could find any stories about this Navnghast character.” He gestured to a small pile of books lying on a table nearby, “I’ve found some mentions of the name but this is the oldest book I’ve found so far with the whole story.” The children looked at each other excitedly. George secretly hoped that they wouldn’t have to hear the story again, once had been enough.
“Can I see it?” asked Chloe.
“Yes of course, but please be careful, the parchment is extremely old.” Chloe took the book from him and Sara and George moved their chairs closer to hers. It had a black cover, tarnished by mold and damp and its corners were worn away. The pages within were in decent condition but they were yellow and brittle. Chloe could feel how fragile they were as she brushed her fingers over them. She read the title out loud.
“Northern Stories: A transcription of oral traditions from the mountains and valleys.”
“It doesn’t say who did the actual transcribing,” said Brother Thomas, “but Navnghast appears here.” He carefully turned the pages, revealing beautiful maps, illustrations of animals, starry skies and margins filled with little tadpoles. The curly cursive text filled the pages but Chloe could only read the occasional word. When Brother Thomas finally found the chapter he was looking for the pages were suspiciously void of pictures. The story started just like the others but it took several turns of the page to reveal the first and only illustration. Chloe nearly gasped at the site of it.
Staring back at her from the page was a dark and terrible figure. It had sad yellow eyes that stared painfully out of mottled skin. It was ancient, and it looked tired of being alive. On its back it carried a large hessian sack which it gripped between twiggy fingers. Its large dirty robe covered a pot belly and spindly legs stuck out from the bottom.
“Is that…?” George couldn’t finish the question.
“It is.” Confirmed Brother Thomas, “see, his name is here and here. The language is old but I have some experience reading it.” The group stared at the picture for some time.
“What is that beside his feet?” Sara pointed to a collection of brown and black boxes at the bottom of the page.
“I believe they are the houses he visits in the story.”
“Houses!?” shouted Chloe, “But they’re tiny.” The comment hung in the air while the children came to terms with what it meant.
“Brother Thomas,” Sara spoke with a tremble in her voice, “Does the story say anything about why he gives people fish?” Brother Thomas took the book back and turned the pages, trying to find a particular passage.
“This story is similar to the one told last night. It says it somewhere…” He ran his finger down a page until a word caught his eye. “Ah! Here we are. ‘And Navnghas gaiv them pesc,’ that’s an old word for fish, ‘and tol them to kaep it for five moons. For they haed don dark deeds and were thusly wharned.’ I’m afraid that’s all it says.”
George sighed, “Dark deeds could mean anything.” Brother Thomas shut the book slowly, making sure that none of the pages were caught in the folding.
“I always thought that the fish was a symbol, a representation of punishment or penance. It says that the people who get a fish must keep it for five days to atone for these dark deeds, whatever they may be. Now fish notoriously goes off quite quickly and to keep it under your bed for even one day would be tough enough, don’t you think?” The young ones smiled at the thought. “The story is mainly about how he was born,” Brother Thomas continued, “about how he was a greedy prince who gathered riches from his people and pretended to give them to the sun so that it would continue to shine, but in truth he kept the gold for himself. The sun punishes the people for believing the prince by disappearing for five days and she takes the prince with her and traps him in servitude. He is forced to judge the people every winter to see if they are worthy of the sun’s return. The bit about the fish is quite near the end and is generally considered, among the church, to be a symbol for time running out. It certainly was never thought to be a literal fish.” The children considered this.
“So if you don’t fix the problem after five days,” asked Chloe, “What happens?” Brother Thomas’ expression grew serious.
“I believe that is what the sack is for.”
The church doors shut behind them and Sara and the twins were once again out in the cold, fresh air. The sun was gone but the sky still kept a little light. The night would be upon them soon and with it, a deadly cold.
“So if we don’t find out what’s going on and fix it within five days,” said George, “We’re all going to end up in a sack??” Chloe would normally have laughed at her brother’s exaggeration, but the situation was just too serious.
“Let’s get back to the tree house,” said Sara, “maybe the others have found something.”
Tim, Eddy, Kara and Ben were already back at the treehouse, excitedly discussing their findings. George was last to poke his head up through the floor. He grabbed one of the blankets that Kara had brought with her and huddled around the three candles. They knew they could not stay out for long, but plans were plans and their findings begged to be shared. Ben and Kara unfortunately had no luck in finding Mrs Thoresan but they did manage to speak to her butler, Mr Stepson. Apparently he said that Mrs Thoresan often went missing and that she would be back in a few nights.
“Where does she go?” asked Chloe.
“He wasn’t sure.” said Kara, “Sometimes she stays with friends, sometimes she just disappears.”
“Once he said that he found her by the Padda Stone in the middle of the night.” said Ben.
“She’s a witch!” George exclaimed. And all nodded in agreement. Tim and Eddy had had more luck in their quest. Apparently, Tim’s father said that there was only one place near Benlunar that so much fresh fish could be caught at once.
“He calls it Lake Sitron and he says it’s filled with fish of all kinds,” Tim explained, his nose red and running, “but he says it’s an hour away from town.”
“And!” added Eddy, “he also said that it freezes over in the winter, so fishing is really hard.” The group thought on this information for a second.
“I still think it would be worth going to see it,” said Sara, “We might find something useful, a clue or something.” The rest of the group agreed and Sara went on to explain what they had found at the Stave Church library. She described the story and the picture of Navnghast in great detail, not forgetting to mention that their mission now had a time limit of five, no four days. The group then swapped theories and ideas as to what the ‘dark deeds’ might be. They had some good ideas, but nothing seemed quite right. Benlunar was quite a small town, so anything that the community did all together would be common knowledge and the children couldn’t think of anything that might be considered dark or evil in any way. They resolved to meet in the morning at first light on the edge of town with enough food packed for the day so that they could go and explore the lake.
“Right, we should probably go home, mum will be wondering… oh dear.” Chloe was in the middle of warning the others about the late hour when she glanced outside. The group had been so caught up in the adventure, they had failed to see the night creep into the sky and fall silently over the mountain. Chloe let out a long breath, a cloud of vapour escaped from her mouth and it glowed orange from the candle light, making her look like a very worried dragon.
“Crumbs!” shouted Kara, “I need to be home. Mum doesn’t like it when I’m out after dark.” The group scrambled to get up and leave the confines of the suspended wooden hut. Sara blew out the candles, only to light them again as the cloud covered sky had plunged Benlunar into a thick, inky darkness. They divided the candles between them and held them aloft like torches to guide them home through the snow.
And so they picked their way through the frozen streets. The candles were small and their golden glow barely went ten feet before being overwhelmed by the oppressive blackness. Tim’s house was found first, then Kara and Ben’s place was only round the corner. Sara and Eddy found their homes soon after which meant that Chloe and George had to take the main road, two left turns and then only twenty feet until they were back home. The first leg was fine, the roads were quiet and their candle still had plenty of wax to last them the journey.
“My fingers are going numb.” said George.
“Not much further.” his sister reassured him, even though she knew exactly how he was feeling. They were both wearing sheepskin mittens, but the cold did not care. A few flecks of snow started to fall about them. After the first left turn and with the warm hearth of home not far ahead, Chloe stopped her brother.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I thought I saw something.”
“We can check in the morning Chlo, come on I’m hungry and freez…”
“Wait!” she stepped back a few feet, holding her candle low to the floor to illuminate the settled snow. George’s stomach urged him to hurry her.
“It’s nothing. Now come on, it’s creepy out here.”
“There!” George, his curiosity getting the better of him, retraced his steps and stared at the spot where his sister was pointing.
“What… what is it?”
“Can’t you see?” his sister traced the shape stamped in the snow in the air with her finger.
“It’s a footprint.”
“But…” George’s voice shook with cold and fear, “It’s so big.”
The next morning the seven friends met near the river path. Each one carried a small pack, filled with sandwiches, dried meat or cheese. The snow had frozen and hardened over night, making the pathways a little more treacherous than normal, but nothing a good hobnailed boot couldn’t handle. Chloe described the footprint they’d found the night before.
“It looked like a foot, a barefoot, only it was big, about your height Kara.” Kara looked down at her body, her face the picture of shock. The group considered going to see the footprint and maybe even seeing where it led, but more snow had fallen during the night and any trace would have been long gone. Not wishing to lose any more time, they set off on their journey to find Lake Citron.
Following the river was not too difficult, Tim’s father had advised they stick close to it if they wished to find the lake. They sang songs and told jokes as they picked their way through the winter wood. It was like walking through a painting. Sunlight streaked in golden lines through the snow capped canopy. The river babbled pleasantly by their side as if eagerly joining in their conversations. Tiny icicles clung to banks and branches. Every now and then one of them would slip and the rest would laugh and go to help, wiping wet leaves from soggy bottoms. It was a journey whose beauty could only be truly appreciated through the eyes of an older self, many years after the fact.
They made good time. After an hour or so the river began to widen and they had trouble keeping up with the sticks they threw into it. The happy babble quickly grew to a raucous roaring and after cresting a small hill up ahead Sara turned around to shout something back to her friends.
“There it is! We found the lake!” The rest of them ran to catch up with her. The trees thinned and the view opened onto a large empty space surrounded by steep, rocky mountain sides. At first it looked as though there was just a field covered in snow, but it was too flat and too perfectly settled to be anything other than a frozen lake. The troupe made their ways slowly down the hill, the river they had been following had turned sharply left some way back and they could see where it fed into the lake further down the shore. The water moved too much to freeze at the mouth making it look like it was disappearing underground beneath the frozen floor. George paused his descent to look further down the coast, he spotted other rivers feeding the lake as well, two, three and even a fourth quite some distance away.
“It’s very pretty.” said Ben as they approached the stony shoreline. The rest of them nodded in silent agreement. Nothing stood immediately out to them as strange or out of place, so they resolved to eat their packed lunches and discuss the various findings. The sounds of water and chewing as well as the occasional bird filled the silences.
“If the footprint was made yesterday,” Eddy wondered aloud, “then does that mean Navnghast came back?”
“What do you mean?” asked Chloe.
“Well, if he gave everyone a fish the night before, then his prints would have been covered by the snow. So since you found a footprint last night that means he must have come back no?” The group chewed over the notion. It seemed to make sense.
“I suppose so.” said Ben.
“Strange to think that he was in town while we were in the treehouse.” said Tim in a low and shy voice. The others didn’t want to think too much about that.
“Hang on,” Chloe realised something, “if he came back to Benlunar last night, does that mean he’s going to come back tonight as well??” Everyone let out a small sound somewhere between fear and excitement.
“We can set up a watch!” suggested Kara.
“We’ll get torches instead of candles.” added Ben.
“No no no, we shouldn’t have any light! He might see it and run away.” suggested George.
“How are we going to see him if it’s dark?” chided his sister.
“Oh yeah.”
“Listen,” Sara, always the voice of reason for the group, interjected, “let’s take it one investigation at a time. We came all the way here, we should at least look for evidence of a boat or something.” They packed away their lunches, Ben was still eating so he hurriedly tried to finish so that he could join the hunt. His mother had packed him a small slice of cake and it was just too delicious to rush.
Eddy was the first to suggest stepping out onto the ice.
“Absolutely not!” said Sara, “if you fall through you’ll catch a chill and I’m not carrying you home on my back.” Sara was adamant, but Eddy was persuasive.
“Don’t fret Sara. Look, I can see the stones under the ice here, even if it did break I’d only get a wet foot.” Sara went to stop him but he was already taking his first tentative step. “See? He turned back to show his progress off to the others, it’s fine!” He was quickly joined by the boys, Ben and Tim and then after seeing that it appeared to be safe the girls hopped onto the frozen surface. They all leaned on each other for safety slipping and giggling as they went. Sara made sure that no one went too far out.
“The last thing I want is to turn around and see you fall in okay? I’m the oldest so you have to listen to me.” They grumbled their consent and went back to exploring the icy surface. It was fun to scrape away the thin layer of snow and peek into the hidden water world below. Occasionally, someone would spy a fish and all would rush over to look. It was while they were admiring a particularly large swimmer that Sara heard George cry out.
“Oh!” she heard and she whipped around, worried. George was fine, but he lifted his right boot up to show the rest of the group. Water dripped off the end of it.
“There’s a hole here!” He exclaimed in curious delight.
“Careful George.” said Chloe.
“I’m fine, come and see though.” he gestured to where his foot had fallen through the ice. The others tiptoed and slid over to join him.
“It might be a crack, so be ready to run.” Warned Sara, ever watchful.
“It’s not a crack,” said Kara, “It’s a hole, a perfectly round hole.” The rest of the group caught up and confirmed the find. It was just as Kara said. There in the ice was a perfectly cut, smooth edged hole, too perfect to have been made by some falling rock or emerging creature. The depth of the snow surrounding it had hidden it from their view until now. It was brilliant and dark, like a rabbit’s eye staring out of a white winter coat.
“There’s another one over here!” George had already moved on and discovered another. This hole was of a similar size and only a few steps away from the first one. Tim had his eye fixed on the first hole and wondered how it had been made, or even why. Suddenly, the slim wriggly body of a fish swam across his view and the idea came to him.
“They’re fishing holes!” he shouted.
“Here’s another one!” Ben shouted again, a little further onto the ice. Suddenly, the hunt was on. Four more were found quickly, but then five, six and then seven made themselves known. After half an hour’s hunt they had found thirty-six fishing holes and if they had wanted to keep hunting, they were sure they might have found even more. The reason the hunt stopped was because Kara was complaining of being cold and the group realised that they should probably be heading home soon. Ben, Tim, George, Eddy, Chloe and Sara were still absent mindedly keeping an eye out for more fishing holes as they traced their way back to the stony shore. Kara was bored of that game however so she turned her eyes back to the shoreline.
“Doggy!” she squealed in delight. Kara loved dogs, maybe even more than she loved cats. The rest of the group looked up ahead to see what she meant. There, waiting for them on the beach where they had had their lunch was a rather large, grey dog. And then another dog appeared out of the treeline and came to join it.
“Two dogs!” shouted Kara. Two dogs were even better than one. But then, there were three dogs. Four, five, six… seven… eight.
“Kara,” Sara whispered loudly, “come here please. Come back to us now.” Kara turned round to see that her friends were huddled in a group some distance behind her. They looked scared for some reason. Kara turned back and counted two more dogs, a whole pack! And then she realised why her friends were scared.
“Sara…”
“Just come here slowly.” Kara turned back to look at the dogs, no, the wolves that were edging ever closer to the ice. She took a step back towards her friends just as she watched the largest wolf put a paw on the ice. She began to walk backwards, checking her footing occasionally but not daring to turn her back on the pack. The animals ahead of her were uncertain about traversing the ice and Kara was nearly with her friends before the first wolf was fully standing on the surface.
“Watch your step!” Kara heard George’s voice behind her. She glanced down and twisted her weight just in time to avoid stepping into a fishing hole. She quickly glanced back up to see two more wolves had joined the alpha on the frozen water. They were clearly unsure about the ice, but desperate enough to risk it. One of them even licked its lips in gruesome anticipation. Kara felt a hand grip her arm and she was pulled back into the group’s embrace.
“What do we do now?” said Eddy in as steady a voice as he could manage. Chloe took her eyes of the wolves and glanced around. She looked at the footprints they had left in the snow and she saw how they had left a zigzag pattern around the various fishing holes that they’d found. An idea was forming in her head.
“Look, over there,” she said, pointing to the mouth of the river, there was an outcrop of rock accessible through the maze of fishing holes. “If we run that way and dodge around the holes, we should be able to reach the rocks before they catch us.”
“But that would mean going towards them Chloe,” protested George, “shouldn't we run backwards, across the lake?”
“No.” Chloe cut him off, confidently, “we don’t know where the other fishing holes are behind us, we can go around those ones if we follow our footsteps. We’ll have to swing round to the right. But if we go now then they’ll just head us off.”
“We have to wait.” said Sara.
“Yes. Just until they’re about… there.” Chloe pointed to one of the fishing holes they had discovered, it was roughly halfway between them and the pack.
Chloe breathed out slowly. She could feel her heartbeat beating out the seconds, measuring the footsteps of the largest wolf. She glanced down at Tim and Kara, hoping upon hope that they could keep up with the older kids.
“Just a few more steps.” she whispered.
“We should run now.” said Ben.
“Not yet.” argued Chloe. She could see Ben’s hand nervously shaking, playing with the toggles of his oversized coat. Chloe turned back to the wolves. Just a few more steps.
“NOW!” she shouted and they began to run. They had spent a while on the ice now so they were familiar with how to move, thankfully, the wolves were new to the feeling. As soon as they broke into a run, the wolves followed suit. A few of them slipped and slid, their claws unsuited for running on this surface. Chloe sprinted ahead choosing her path carefully. It was not the most direct route, instead she wound round the holes hoping to trick the animals behind them. Occasionally she would glance back, she saw one wolf lose its footing and fall into a hole just as she’d planned. Its chin hit the ice with an audible thunk. They were nearly at the outcrop now, Chloe knew that they needed height as well as distance between them and the wolves. The mouth of the river was a stone’s throw away now. Kara squealed and Chloe turned to see the pack leader snap at her heels, slipping sideways and stumbling as he did. Just a little further, she thought.
And then she heard the first crack.
“What was that?” shouted Eddy, breathless and terrified.
“Just keep going.” Chloe needed them to ignore it and push forward. A second crack sounded, louder than the first. The ice was thin here and was having difficulty holding steady under heavy, concentrated footfall. The third crack visibly split the snow to the left, the ice sheet pinged as the impact echoed across the floor. Chloe jumped for the rock and found steady footing. She turned quickly to help the others. The lead wolf had thankfully slipped and was still getting to its feet as Kara finally found the rock and clutched at Chloe’s outstretched hand.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yes. I think so.” Kara replied and the group let out a brief sigh of relief. The wolves were finding their footing and scouting a way towards them.
“Keep going!” Sara shouted and turned to scramble up the rock surface slope. Chloe went to join her, but noticed her brother turn to the right.
“George! Come on.” she chided but then she saw his thinking. Using all his remaining strength, George Bergren lifted a small boulder, roughly the size of his own head, up above himself and hurled it at the ice. All children and wolves alike watched it sail through the air. It hit the ice with a wet crunch and went straight through into the water beneath. The wolves watched the cracks appear like a spider web from the point of impact. Chloe knew they needed to run but she couldn’t help feeling a small sense of satisfaction at watching the lead wolf lose its footing and plunge into the icy water.
Twenty minutes later, the children were well on their way back up the mountain. The shock of the chase was still close, and they were all out of breath. Little wet clouds of heavy breath caught the light of the sunset behind them as they walked up and up towards home.
“That was the scariest thing I’ve ever done.” Said Ben.
“That was scarier than Navnghast.” added Eddy.
“That was scarier than getting home after dark and being shouted at.” said Tim. There were no arguments, only further comparisons.
“That was scarier than having to remember lines in the play.” said Sara. They all laughed in agreement.
“That was scarier than…” Chloe began but her thought was interrupted by the sight of a figure walking down the river bank towards them, “Mrs Thoresan?” she said.
“Oof, I don’t know about that.” said George.
“No, look!” urged his sister, “she’s there.” The group followed her pointing finger and saw the old woman. They stopped, half out of shock, half out of deference for their elder. The older woman spotted them and smiled. Her eyes closed sweetly as the corners of her mouth curled upwards. The children expected her to say something, but instead she stopped about ten steps ahead of them and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and began to twist her hands through strange shapes. The young ones watched enraptured as she waved her arms in front of her like she was testing feeling fine silk between her fingers. George was about to ask the others what she was doing when they heard a sound behind them. It sounded like the crack of a twig or the rustle of a leaf. They all whipped round and gasped in shock and terror as they caught sight of the largest wolf, still wet from the water, only a few feet away from them. Kara screamed and the wolf ran two or three steps forward before leaping into the air, its jaws open wide, fangs bared and ready for the bite. Chloe thought in that brief moment that all was lost and that they would be dinner for the pack, but then the snow moved. A patch of it between them and the wolf began to shake and shiver. Suddenly, as the wolf was jumping over it, the snow shot upwards, taking the shape of a giant hand. The wolf yelped as the icy fingers closed around its body as quick as a flash of lightning. The snow hand shivered as it tightened and then quickly became hard as ice, freezing the wolf in place. The children turned slowly around to look back at Mrs Thoresan.
“She’s a witch.” whispered George, only half under his breath. They watched her reach into a small pack on her side and pull something out that was wrapped in wax cloth. She unwrapped it slowly, the snuffling and grunting sounds of the struggling wolf behind them underscored the process. The wax cloth opened to reveal large slabs of red meat which Mrs Thoresan proceeded to place gently on the floor by her feet.
“They get hungry in the winter. This stops them from eating our sheep.” she said, “We should get going though, the ice will not hold for long. Come bairns, I’ll walk you back to Benlunar.” The seven friends went with her then. Kara took the old lady’s hand as she walked, feeling instantly safe by its tight grip and warmth.
The next day was the third since the fish had appeared in Benlunar. Some of the houses that had decided to keep their fishes, were starting to smell. No one had worked out exactly why the fishes had appeared yet, but at least the children knew where they had come from.
“I can’t imagine a demon needing to make fishing holes.” Eddy was speaking with his mouthful of Lang Natt bread, a traditional sugary bake that Benlunar folk enjoyed around this time of year. They were all sitting on the comfy chairs in the Fox & Octopus enjoying warm milk and honey with their breakfast.
“So what?” asked Chloe, “you think people got all those fish from the lake?” Eddy nodded in response, a splodge of blackcurrant jam staining his chin.
“Who though?” asked George. Eddy shrugged.
“I dunno, people.” he gestured around as if to signify anyone and everyone in Benlunar. The others thought on this, it did make sense. Although it would point towards evidence of a large and very well organised operation. Somehow, the work of a demon still seemed more plausible.
“And what about the footprint?” asked Ben, “We still don’t know what made that.” They all fell silent again. They had set out to find answers, but all they had were more questions.
“I have an idea.” Chloe spoke up. She had been staring into the crackling fire, barely listening to the others as they spoke. She turned to them now and shared her thoughts, “Remember how we said we could set up a watch and try and see if Navnghast comes back to Benlunar? Well I think we should do that tonight.” The others had not forgotten the conversation. They had been too tired to do anything about it last night, but after their experience with the wolves staying up late to hunt a demon seemed easy enough.
“We only have two days unti Lang Natt,” Chloe reminded them, “We can read books and find as many fishing holes as we like, but if we’re going to save Benlunar then we need to find the culprit.” George was impressed by his sister’s confidence. He wasn’t sure he would have been brave enough to suggest the hunt himself.
“What are we going to do if we see him?” George asked his sister. She turned to him with a strange and mischievous sparkle in her eye.
“We’re going to ask him a few questions.”
“What are you all doing?” A voice from the door of the inn drew their attention. Three boys were standing silhouetted against the sunlight. Chloe recognised them but only knew the name of the boy in the middle, the one who had spoken, Villem Kirk.
“Get out of here Villem.” Sara stood up and tried to shoo the three boys away. “We’re busy and you’ll only ruin everything.” Villem, who had a bit of a reputation for causing trouble, looked hurt. They closed the door behind them and approached, ignoring Sara’s command.
“You’re investigating the fish aren’t you?” The seven friends looked at each other, unsure whether to trust the boy with their secret plans. He was tall, and had brown, curly hair. His knees were permanently scraped or wet from fighting and his clothes were a few sizes too big, clearly cast offs from his older brothers he had yet to grow into. His two friends both had round faces and short, red hair. They looked similar enough to be brothers. “It’s okay.” Villem continued, “We’re doing the same thing.” Sara shot Chloe a suspicious look. Was this some kind of mean-boy plot meant to poke fun at them? Eddy, still naive to the games of older boys, broke the silence,
“What have you found?” Villem gave him a smirk and looked around to his friends.
“We’ll tell you what we know, if you tell us what you know.” The offer hung in the air. Could the seven friends risk the bargain? What if these boys didn’t know anything and they gave up their secrets for nothing? Surely they couldn’t know about the fishing holes and the lake? Chloe considered declining the offer but then realised something important,
“Yes. Okay.” Her team turned to look at her in shock as if she had betrayed all their hard work. Chloe continued, “I think we should work together. We have a plan and we could use some help.” Villem smiled a big grin, it looked genuine and void of treachery.
“Great!” He said, “We’ve actually just bumped into some girls who are doing the same thing.” The three newcomers came to sit beside them on the soft fireside chairs. Everyone leaned in to swap stories and theories. The four girls they’d spoken to had apparently found the giant footprints and the boys had also spoken to Brother Thomas and read the ancient book. On top of that they had spoken to Ortan, the town trapper, and he’d given them some insights into the story of the Prince. He apparently said that the prince was not just guilty of telling lies and being greedy, but of other evils as well. He double crossed his friends, he was lazy and he stole money from his family. Chloe told them of the fishing holes they’d found in the frozen lake and their adventure with the wolves. Her friends chipped in with the occasional missed detail. The boy’s faces were the picture of suspense and when the time came to describe Mrs Thoresan’s magic they could barely believe their ears. Finally, George described the plan to meet that night and confront Navnghast. Villem and the two brothers, Michael and Jamie, nodded solemnly and agreed to join in. They would alert the other children of Benlunar and together, they would confront the vengeful spirit.
Chloe and George were the first to arrive in the Benlunar town square. They had convinced their parents that they had wished to go to bed early that night and they had even shaped pillows under their covers as an added precaution. Then it was just a matter of slipping out of the window and dropping into the snow drift below. They hopped from one leg to another and shook their arms to keep warm. The Stave Church, usually so grand and welcoming instead loomed over them like the dark giant they were meant to be hunting. Sara Smorkopp approached them through the gloom holding a small candle to guide her. Chloe thought she looked like a sprite or Will o’ the wisp, floating through darkness to guide men to their doom. She waved at them and they exchanged bedroom escape stories until the others joined them. It took about fifteen minutes for everyone to arrive. On top of the seven friends who’d visited the lake the day before, there were the three boys they’d met at the inn as well as four girls from the north part of town. After them, five more children arrived who had apparently also been investigating the Navnghast mystery. Nineteen children in total. After a brief round of introductions Villem asked the question that was on the tip of everyone’s tongue,
“So what’s the plan?” Chloe and George had actually been discussing this earlier that evening and so when no one offered a plan of their own, Chloe spoke up.
“I think we should split into groups. Each group should station themselves at a road leading out of this square. If anyone sees or hears something strange they should light a candle, then the rest of us should run towards the light.” Nobody disagreed with the plan and everyone quickly split into eight smaller groups.
“Make sure every group has a mix of younger and older people,” added George, “We don’t want young ones left alone.” A quick reshuffling and the teams were cemented. Thankfully, the sky was only partly cloudy so all of this could be organised by the lights of one or two candles. Chloe thought she would be more scared than she really felt. Everybody’s face glowed with excitement and eagerness.
“So if we see something and we all meet,” a girl with dark eyes and hair called Vanda was speaking up, “What do we do then?” Chloe had expected the question.
“We’ll figure that out when something happens I think. Benlunar has clearly been warned of something, this spirit is telling us to fix it but we don’t know what it is we need to fix. So if we see it tonight, that’s what we’re going to find out. Okay?” Everyone looked at each other and nodded. Their streets were assigned, their candles extinguished. They were ready.
Chloe and George were in a team with Eddy and Tim. They made their way across the square to their assigned street , the snow crunching and groaning under their feet.Theirs was the mountain path that led up past the Thoresan house and continued up the mountain towards its peak.
“Everyone alright? Not too cold?” George asked, forever looking out for others. Everyone nodded whilst checking their sleeves, tucking in any loose shirts and generally checking for anywhere their body heat could escape. Now that they wouldn’t be moving, the cold would set in quickly. Chloe looked about the square, it was too dark to see all the way to the other side. The flat snow stretched out into the gloom, she was reminded of the frozen lake. Would this plan turn out to be just as dangerous? Eddy sniffed loudly beside her and she became aware of just how quiet everything was. She looked at the boy’s faces, they seemed to have that strange mixture of excitement and fear that she was feeling. Suddenly, she found that she could see them clearly. A cloud above had moved and the moon; full, bright and beautiful, illuminated the snowy scene. They all looked up at it for a moment, transfixed by its light. It was the exact opposite of the dark pool in the ice. Chloe smiled and then remembered her duties.
“Two of us should look out over the square, and the others should look towards the path.”
“What do you think we will see?” Tim whispered, his teeth chattering.
“I think it will be scary.” replied Eddy.
“What is it though?”
“I don’t know, maybe a ghost?”
“Ghosts don’t eat fish.” Tim giggled. The two boys continued to swap theories about what ghosts or ghouls may or may not eat. Chloe smiled at their silly musings. After Tim and Eddy inevitably began to hit each other she raised a hand to hush them.
“We need to keep quiet, we might not hear anything if you two keep…” she paused. Chloe had been tasked with watching the square and just now she thought she might have seen something.
“What is it?” asked Tim.
“Is that… a candle?” she replied. Everyone whipped round to look across the moonlit square. At the edge of the sea of snow, just where the shadowy wall of buildings began there was the smallest of lights. Barely a pinprick in the distant darkness, the four children had to strain their eyes to be sure of what it was.
“I think it is…” said George. Chloe began to walk towards the light, hoping that it would become clearer as she approached.
“It is, it’s a candle light!” her voice was filled with excitement, someone had seen something. She started towards the light, the boys, quickly following behind her. They hadn’t gone ten steps however when another light appeared, this time just fifty feet left of the first. Chloe and her group stopped.
“Which one should we go to?” asked George, who’d seen the second light appear also. Chloe glanced from one to the other, unsure of what to do. Then, her decision was made for her by the appearance of a third candle flame, further round the square to the left.
“It’s moving.” she said, and she turned on her heel and headed to the left of the third light, hoping to head off whatever it was that was traversing the Benlunar streets so quickly.
It didn’t take them long to cross the square. The moon illuminated their way, reflecting off the snow as they went. But as they approached the wall of houses, the shadows began to reach out. They hit the entrance to an alleyway where Sara, Kara and Villem were stationed. Sara Peered out from behind a frightened looking Villem as they approached.
“What are you lot doing?? You nearly made us light the candle. Why aren’t you at your post?” Chloe had to catch her breath before she could reply, and even then, the response came in short bursts.
“Candles… already lit. Something… coming this way.” And that’s when they heard it. Or more accurately, they felt it. It was a low thudding rumble. Like when snow avalanches down a hillside but it only lasted a moment. Suddenly, another came only seconds later. Kara jumped and shrieked as a clump of snow was dislodged and fell from the roof above them. Chloe hushed her quickly and tried to get her breathing under control. Whatever it was that was making the noise, it was big and it was out of sight. At that moment, the rest of the children joined them, some still had their candles lit. Chloe went over to blow them out, the moon was still bright enough to see by. Then she turned and started walking briskly down the alley. She tried to stay low and hug the walls hoping they would hide her and her group from whatever it was. The thuds were erratic and evasive. At one moment, they seemed close, only to fade quickly into the distance. Running down the alleyway let the young people of Benlunar keep up with whatever it was, but they often found themselves turning around, having half heard a loud thud coming from behind them. Chloe had no room for fear, she pushed all anxiety aside and led her team past the back door of the Fox and Octopus and further down the alleyway towards the trades quarter. At one point the moon’s light was briefly blocked out, plunging their street into complete darkness for only a second. Too quick to be a cloud, too big to be a bird. Thud, thud, the rumbles quickened and Chloe sensed they were getting closer. The alleyway opened out into a cobbled street. The thudding had frustratingly stopped and the children looked desperately left and right, searching for some sign of the subject of the hunt. The street was quiet and empty. Chloe was about to curse and give up when she saw her brother’s face. He was looking up and back towards where they had come from. His expression was one of confusion.
“I can’t see the Stave.” he whispered. Chloe almost dismissed the comment as unimportant, but then she realised that they really hadn’t come that far from the town square and even in this light the Stave Church tower should be clearly visible. She turned around to verify her brother’s observation. All the children gathered on the snow covered cobbles turned as one to stare back down the alley and up at the church tower. George was right. The church was invisible, and so was the mountain behind it. That patch of sky was so dark that even the stars were obscured. Chloe turned back to check whether the rest of the sky was just as dark, but the moon was still shining brightly behind her, and she could even see stars twinkling around it. She turned back to the patch of darkness. It was still there. Chloe felt her stomach tighten and took a deep involuntary gulp of cold air as she, along with the other children, saw the darkness move.
The creature was darkness made flesh, a being of pure tenebrosity. It blended into the night sky like a shadow in shade. The only thing distinguishing it from the rest of the sky was the occasional absence of stars. They winked out as it swayed clumsily from side to side, shifting its weight to compensate for its massive size. Chloe tried to make out a shape. By squinting and employing a little imagination she thought she could discern a head sitting on giant shoulders on top of a wagon sized body. Arms the size of ceiling beams and legs the length of tree trunks. The children stood frozen in place like that wolf gripped by an icy hand. It was fear and fascination that kept any of them from screaming or running away. Chloe even felt a smile creep across her face.
She thought she saw the stars starting to return, was the giant fading away? There were two lights appearing towards the top of its form where its head would be. Chloe realised that they were not stars, they were the wrong colour and size. These lights were red. And they were big. The children stared up at the creature, and the creature was staring back.
Chloe stepped forward. She knew that if she did nothing now she would kick herself in the morning. They only had a few hours left until Lang Natt and they could not afford to waste this opportunity.
“Chloe! What are you doing?” Kara found her voice and whispered a loud warning. Chloe put a hand out to calm the group. She turned back and looked up into the eyes.
“You’re the emissary aren’t you?” There was silence. The children barely dared to breathe. Chloe went on. “You were a prince once. You’re here to warn us. I didn’t understand before tonight, but I think I know now.” The large eyes blinked. Chloe had been mulling the various clues and messages over and over in her head all day, and she had come to a conclusion. “We thought that Benlunar had done something bad, but that’s not it. The fish weren’t given to the town, they were given to the people who live in it. Everyone got one and so everyone had to think about why that was. It was meant to make us think wasn’t it? It was meant to make us examine the deeds we have done and take steps to make amends. Five days to forgive each other, five days find the problems and solve them. Five nights to hold each other close and share songs by the fire. That’s what Lang Natt is about isn’t it? We take one last look back at the year and we promise to be better. If we truly do our best, then the sun will come back because it will know that we’re trying. So, what I’m trying to say is, thank you Navnghast. Thank you for reminding us every year that we need to be good to each other, and good to ourselves. We promise we won’t let you down.” She turned to smile at her brother, who was smiling back at her. All the children held hands or closed their eyes and made their promises to be better. They knew they would sometimes fail, but the point was not perfection, they understood that now, the point was the effort. This beast when or if it was alive, had never made the effort to change and so it was cursed to remind others of its fate each year. So Chloe whispered one final thought to herself with her eyes closed. With that whisper, she forgave the prince for she knew that he had had no one like Navnghast to warn him. When she opened her eyes she saw the Stave Church tower, bathed in silver moonlight. The darkness had disappeared.
The next day the children went around the town telling everyone about what they had learned. Some people believed them, others did not. But everyone agreed that the message was a good one. To love freely and to forgive were not always easy things, but they were what made the long winter nights that much warmer and easier to bear. Chloe and George would spend the night with their parents, swapping stories and singing silly songs that only their family knew the words to. In the morning after many hours of darkness the sun would appear and be just a little bit brighter than it had been the day before.
Before that day however, Sara Smorkopp had a promise to keep. When the rest of the children were running around town spreading the lessons they’d learned the night before, she snuck through the big double doors of the Stave Church. Inside she found Brother Thomas and Mrs Thoresan deep in conversation. She shut the doors and they both looked up, alerted by the sound. They smiled and Sara smiled back at them as she walked down the tapestry lined passage to the main hall.
“Good morning Sara.” said Brother Thomas.
“Hello!” said Sara in greeting. Some movement from the back of the hall caught her eye and she saw Brother Ulnar carrying some heavy dark curtains into a storage room.
“We have been hearing all about your adventures.” Mrs Thoresan added.
“It has been quite an eventful week!” Sara agreed, “and a successful one I might add.” the church brother and town elder nodded in agreement.
“Might I ask, did anyone stand out for next year?” said Mrs Thoresan. Sara had been giving the question some thought that morning and had an answer prepared.
“I think Chloe Bergren would do well. She’s bright and cares greatly for the little ones.” Mrs Thoresan smiled.
“Then we are in agreement. Thank you Sara for helping, you performed admirably.” Sara bowed her head in deference.
“May I ask,” the question caught in Sara’s throat, she was still not used to conversing with important people. But the smile on their faces bade her to continue, “why now? Why this year?” She watched Mrs Thoresan turn away as if in deep thought. She was considering her words before answering.
“It has been a difficult year for everyone. I think it was nice for the young ones to have a distraction from the hardship. They deserve that from us. A little magic, a little adventure is important when you are young.”
Benlunar - Episode 21
The fight for the farm.
The Roads of Alicium run through it like veins
From small paths down mountains to city built lanes
They’ll guide you home or take you away
Or make you visit village that begs you to stay
Up through the pass, down through the grass
Stick to your map, veer not from the path
Or perhaps take an unfamiliar bend
After all, the aim of the song is the tune not the end
Lilian held her breath. She reached out her left hand to find Fritha’s head. She stroked it gently in the hopes of calming her. Lilian wasn’t too worried about Fritha making noise, if there was anyone who knew how to hide, it was her. Maybe she was stroking her to calm herself more than the other way around. The moon’s stark light still shone through the hole in the roof of the recently burnt out barn. Lilian looked to the door where another sliver of light was sneaking into the dusty darkness. Two mercenary soldiers stood there, watching through knot holes or cracks in the wood. They wore silver breastplates and helmets in the shapes of animals. The woman, whose name was Solveig, was staring, unblinking through a small hole in the door. They were waiting to ambush a group of men, rough city fools who thought that this country farm was stashed full of money. Lilian almost smiled at the irony of standing beside two of the most expensive soldiers money could buy while defending a distinct lack of treasure. Just then, Lilian tensed her arm. She’d seen Solveig grip her friend’s arm and then start tapping it lightly. Lilian strained to hear what was happening outside, she heard muffled deep voices and occasionally the sound of a footstep or a scuffed shoe. She thought she could hear some of these footsteps getting closer to the barn and with each step, Solveig’s tapping became sharper and harder. Lilian still held her new knife in her right hand, and she felt her grip loosen slightly from the sweat on her palm. In a silent rush Solveig and the other mercenary walked backwards towards a dark corner of the barn where there were still piles of hay. Solveig looked to Lilian and pushed her hand out and down mouthing the words ‘hide’ ‘hide’ as she did. Lilian looked around and saw a hay bail a few feet behind her. Would it be big enough to hide her fully? She began to panic. When she looked back to ask Solveig what she should do, she saw the two mercenaries disappear into a stack of hay almost twice their height. A bit of rustling and they were gone. The voices by the door were loud now. Lilian was out of time. Her left hand suddenly felt wet for some reason. She looked down to see Fritha licking it. She stopped when Lilian caught her eye and then raised a paw up before dropping it quickly and awkwardly to the dusty stone floor. And then Lilian understood. She instinctively dropped to the floor, curling up by the hay bale as she did. She shut her eyes and gripped her knife tightly to her chest so that it didn’t reflect any light. She heard the door open just as she felt Fritha’s weight fall on top of her. The girl and the beast kept deathly still, barely moving to breathe while the sounds of footsteps entered the barn. Lilian took the opportunity to slip into her state of focus. The room suddenly became a bright grey and black echo chamber. The stone floors were bright with crunches and rustles while the hay bales looked like dark pockets where sound went to dissipate, bar the occasional squeak of what Lilian thought must be a mouse or rat. In this state, Lilian could clearly hear the barn doors opening and two hearts walking in. With Fritha’s whole weight upon her Lilian felt comforted and relaxed enough to focus on what was going on in the room. She heard the hiss of a small fire, probably a torch. Lilian was confident enough in Fritha’s extraordinary knack for hiding that the light of a small torch did not concern her. What worried her more was the possibility of the men repeating what they had done earlier and setting the hay bails alight. This worry was dampened when one of the men spoke. Even though it was clearly a whisper, in hyper focus Lilian could hear it as clear as a bell.
“Nothing.” One voice said.
“Probably all in the house.” Replied another, lower and gruffer than the first.
“This is weird.” The first voice said. And Lilian heard a change in his heart beat. A slight quickening indicating, fear perhaps? Lilian felt Fritha’s breathing change at the same moment. Her heart, loud as a beating drum when so close to Lilian, appeared to be slowing down. Lilian ignored it for now and went back to directing her focus towards the two men. They had turned back towards the door and were walking out. A voice further outside greeted them as they appeared in the doorway. Lilian wasn’t ready to catch what it said, but she heard the replies clearly,
“Nothing.” Said the first voice again.
“They’re either in the house or they’ve scarpered.” Said the second voice. The outside voice said something in low muffled tones which elicited chuckles from the two men in the barn.
“Yeah,” the first voice agreed, “and they’ll have left it on the kitchen table.” More low laughter.
“I swear,” the second voice now, “If we’ve come out here for nothing it’s going to be Razzit who’ll be coughing up.” Lilian had to focus hard to catch this last part as the second voice was exiting the barn as it spoke. The first man was still there, lurking in the doorway of the barn but judging by the position of his heart and the shuffling of his feet, he was looking outward. Lilian kept still and focused for a few seconds. There were a few voices coming from outside. Presumably the men were assessing the situation and making some sort of plan. Lilian was also distracted by the beating of the man’s heart, with every minute that went by it seemed to be getting more erratic, jumpy and fearful. What was even stranger, was that Fritha’s heartbeat seemed to be matching it exactly. Syncing beat for beat like she was reacting directly to it somehow. Lilian could have listened for a lot longer but something snapped her out of it. A sound from the darkness around the hay bales. The slightest shuffle of a foot. A breath. A calm heart beat eeking ever closer to the fearful one by the door. Then a sound. A clasping or cupping. A struggle and a quickening heart. Someone had left the hay bales in deathly silence and had put their hand over the fearful man’s mouth. Unable to make a sound vocally, Lilian heard him thrashing in an attempt to throw his torch. The wood left his hand but never hit the ground. Caught in a quiet catch by a third heart beat that had also recently left the hay. Then, a low thunk and the thrashing stopped. All the hearts were still beating, but they were all calm now. Lilian opened her eyes and peeked through Fritha’s straw coloured fur to see Solveig and the soldier slowly lower the unconscious man into the hay stack they had just been hiding in. Lilian tapped Fritha lightly on the side and the great invisible beast stood up soundlessly, Lilian breathed a little easier and got herself up on to her feet as quietly as she could. Solveig turned and had to catch herself from gasping. She clearly hadn’t expected to see Lilian standing beside a large dog and her eyes darted from the small hay bale to the big animal and back again, a look of confusion plastered across her normally stern face. The crack of a twig from outside snapped her back to attention. She brought her two axes out of her belt and the other mercenary fetched his long pike from where he’d hidden it behind a pillar. It seemed ridiculously impractical in this moment, but Lilian watched the way the man effortlessly handled its weight, keeping quiet as he brought it up and over his head, trying several stances before he found one he was comfortable with. Solveig was already by the door, hugging the wood and keeping a watchful eye on the group outside. She gestured towards her friend, spreading out 5 fingers on her left hand, then a fist, then five fingers, then another five, then a fist, then finally three fingers. Eighteen men, thought Lilian. They were outnumbered.
Solveig appeared to be waiting for something. Lilian was just wondering if all warfare involved this much waiting, when she heard a sound coming from further away. Lilian assumed it must be coming from the farmhouse. It sounded like a dog barking. Even Fritha’s ears pricked up when she heard it. Lilian was impressed. Everyone in the farm knew that the only dog on the premises was currently in the barn. Whoever had made the sound had clearly practised it a lot. It was very convincing. A dog bark could also mean several things. It could mean someone in the house was busy trying to calm a dog, or it meant that everyone had truly left and the noise was coming from a wild animal. Clear enough to catch attention. Vague enough to not give anything away. The dog bark was met with many whispers coming from the group of men. Everyone seemed to have their own take on what was going on. Seeding fear and confusion seemed to all be part of Solveig’s plan. The warrior woman took advantage of the distraction and sprang into action. She slipped out of the door like a shadow, followed by her friend. Lilian bade Fritha to stay behind her while she carefully approached the door. She found a hole in the wood and was able to finally see what they were up against. A group of men were huddled against one of the makeshift barricades that Mr Attorcop and the farmers had helped to construct earlier that evening. Lilian almost laughed when she remembered what Solveig had said in her speech, “We let them take the paths we have set out for them.” By creating these barricades, they had given the bandits a place to hide, but knowing exactly where they were hiding, gave the farmers the advantage. Lilian strained to see Solveig and the other mercenary slip round and behind the group of bandits, ducking behind a stack of crates the farmers had placed further down the road. The men had no idea, but they were now surrounded on two fronts, 3, if Lilian counted herself and Fritha. She was trying to listen to what the men were saying, but it was difficult without being in focus, which she wanted to avoid right now because she wanted to watch rather than listen. For some time, nothing happened. It felt like ages, but was probably less than a minute. Eventually, five of the men stood up and rushed over to another barricade a little ways up towards the farmhouse door. They crouched and hid, same as their comrades, when they got there. After another long while, presuming it was safe to continue, another group of 4 men broke off from the group furthest back, ran up and past the second barricade and hid behind the barricade closest to the front door. When they finally reached it, Lilian heard the loud sound of a bird coming from behind the first group. It was a shrill and mournful cry, perfectly executed even though Lilian knew it must have been Solveig or the other mercenary. Lilian was so shocked by the loud noise she almost shifted her weight to look and see where it came from. But this was what Solveig wanted. Lilian knew better, she knew to keep her eyes on the farmhouse. That was because the instant after the bird call sounded and all the bandits swiveled their heads to see where the sound had come from, Lilian saw a tiny flickering light appear in one of the top windows of the farmhouse. Lilian had seen the third mercenary wrapping arrowheads in cloth and dipping them in lamp oil in the evening so she wondered if this little light was one of those. As expected, the light stayed in the window for only a second before streaking out and down towards the second barricade. All the bandits were too low to be hit, even from the high vantage point. She heard the arrow thud into wood, the sound drew the attention of a couple of the bandits and one or two of them seemed to be looking about for its cause. That was when the explosion happened. A deafening bang echoed through the darkness. There was no fire but Lilian felt the barn doors shake from the blast. Her ears rang with it long after the last of the debris from the barricade crashed down to earth. Now she understood what Mr Attorcop had been doing with the manure. With the proper chemicals mixed in, the smelly gas from cow dung could be trapped and ignited by pressure or, as in this case, fire. The very thing the bandits had been cowering behind for safety, was the thing that had just attacked them. Lilian could hear shouting now and she narrowed her eyes to try and see what was happening through the rising dust cloud. Two men were on the floor, face down in the road. One was clutching his side and panting heavily. No sooner had Lilian time to take it all in, when another flickering light shot out of the top window. This time, the bandits were slight more prepared and two of them managed to stand up and run back or off to the side before a second bang cracked through the night. It was like being next to a lightning bolt, thought Lilian who had managed to cover her ears in time for this one. The second explosion had not been as big as the first but it showed the bandits several things at once. One, they now had to question every position they assumed to be safe and two they were facing more than just farmers. One of the younger men in the first group lost his composure and ran off into the field. Lilian heard the ringing clank of a bear trap as the young man fell to the floor, clutching his leg and screaming. Lilian felt a sick feeling in her stomach. Even though these men were here to hurt people, she felt sorry for them, squaring up against 3 of Alicium’s most expensive soldiers. On top of everything, they now also knew that fleeing into the fields was a bad idea. That left them with two options, fight forward or flee back.
Then the song started. Lilian heard it coming from the farmhouse, it was similar to the song the mercenaries had sang earlier that day, when they had approached the bandits from the road. It was just a man’s voice singing now though. Lilian decided to take the risk and poked her head out of the barn doors. She could see more clearly now. She angled her head to bring the farmhouse into focus. She saw the third mercenary stood brazenly in front of the front door, he held his long pike in his hands and was singing his slow song. Lilian noticed that this song was more rhythmic than the last. It had a pulse to it that the soldier pronounced by tapping his right foot in time. Lilian didn’t understand the language but she understood the intention behind the song. It was uncanny and out of place. There should not be singing during a fight. She felt a slight trickle of fear prick the hairs on the back of her neck. She couldn’t imagine what the men out there must be feeling. Lilian suddenly looked down, noticing Fritha moving oddly by her side. Fritha’s ears were flattened and her nose was up in the air. She was facing the group of men but the barn door blocked her direct sightline. Then, for the second time in their few weeks together, Lilian heard Fritha make a peculiar sound. It was like a low gong had been hit with a padded beater. It wasn’t particularly loud so Lilian wasn’t worried about her being heard over the singing. In fact, the two seemed to compliment each other rather well. Lilian recognised the sound from the time Fritha saved her in a dark alley in Hundsberg. She had reacted to something then as well. Could it be…? Lilian wasn’t able to finish her thought before she sensed movement outside. 3 men had been shouting about how their comrades were cowards and that it was just one man. Lilian could hear their voices over the singing,
“Get your lazy, craven bones up and ready. This one’s on us. The rest of you, get to the house and search it. Brick, keep a lookout.” Lilian watched the speaking man stand and stride confidently towards the still singing mercenary. He was flanked by two of this crew, all of them held swords, the one on the right even held a makeshift shield made from what looked like a flattened cooking pot. The mercenary continued to sing, unfased by the approaching men. It wasn’t until they were within reach of his pike that any movement occured. It wasn’t the mercenary who moved however, instead Lilian caught a flash of darkness appear, as if from nowhere. There was a quick swooshing sound, followed by a thunk of metal on bone and the apparition was gone again. Lilian watched the man with the shield fall to his knees and then flat on to his face. Out cold. The other two men froze in fear, one of them looked around to see where the strange dark shape had come from. Doing this meant he’d taken his eye off of the mercenary’s pike which shot through the darkness and quickly embedded itself into the man’s left shoulder. The man shouted in pain in the same instant that the mercenary shifted his whole weight into a twist, shoving the impaled bandit into his friend causing them both to stumble off balance for a second. The shadow then reappeared and Lilian was able to catch a glimpse of Mr Attorcop’s face and beard before the sickening metallic clunk resounded off the man’s head. The stumble became a trip, the shadow was gone and both men hit the ground. The mercenary sang throughout, never missing a beat. Lilian watched as the remaining bandits started to scatter, two or three of them dropped their weapons and made signs of wanting to surrender. One however, continued to shout abuse, he struck anyone who looked as though they were about to give up, hurling curses and insults at all of them. Lilian saw in the dim light that he had a scar on his lip, this was the man from earlier, the one whose reputation was riding on this whole raid. Lilian watched him shove one of the younger men and grapple with him until he pulled something over the man’s neck, it seemed to be a long piece of twine tied to a metallic instrument. Lilian watched the man put the thing to his lips, draw a deep breath and blow into the mouth piece. The object was some kind of trumpet, Lilian heard a couple of raspy tones before the man found the knack and blew a long low note. When he stopped, Lilian could hear it echoing across the fields and bouncing back off barn walls. She wondered if there must have been something magical about the horn, its echo was lasting a peculiarly long time, but then she realised that there was another, similar horn in the distance, answering the call. Lilian’s stomach dropped. Were there more of these thieves? What if the farm was overrun? So far their traps and positions seemed to have worked, but that was all against a relatively small number of attackers. Lilian looked around the barn and realised how cornered she was. Hiding had worked once but what if the newcomers set the barn on fire? Lilian’s nerves suddenly got the better of her and she decided to try and escape the barn. If she kept low and hid behind Fritha then… Her train of thought was interrupted by the rumbling sound of approaching horses. Lilian didn’t want to rush out now in case she ran headlong into a cavalry. She went back to peeking through the barn doors. Not much had changed, the mercenary at the farm was still singing, the remaining bandits were still crouched behind the unexploded barricade. Lilian looked down the road and saw movement in the moonlight. Solveig and the other soldier were changing positions, probably in reaction to the sounds of horns and hooves. Instead of hiding on the roadside, they were switching so that they would not be seen by anyone approaching from the road. It was a risk as the group already at the farm could now potentially spot them, but they seemed to be distracted by the man at the house who, for all they knew, was the only mercenary the farmer could afford.
After about a minute the hooves got louder and Lilian could see a group of 8 or 9 men on horseback, cantering down the road. They slowed when they got to the farm and saw no immediate fighting. At the head of the group was a man dressed in a long black coat. He seemed older than the rest of them, he also seemed angry. Probably upset that he had to have been called in to back up a bunch of incompetents. His eyes darted about, expecting to spot some kind of trouble or an ambush. They finally fell on the group of bandits several yards in front and on the single singing soldier by the farm door.
“What the blazes are you calling us in for? You lot having trouble or summink? It’s just the one…”
The man never finished telling off his crew. At that moment he was interrupted by one of Solveig’s axes knocking him clean off his horse. It happened so fast, he didn’t even make a sound until he hit the ground with a loud thud and an ‘oof’ as all the air was pushed out of his chest. And then it was pandemonium. His horse whinnied and leapt up in fear, this clearly was no battle hardened colt, as at the first sign of a fracas it jumped and kicked, catching one of the horses behind it with its back leg. The chaos was not helped by the fact that the mercenary on the opposite side of the road to Solveig was sweeping his pike amongst the horses legs, hitting as many as he could and causing them to buck and panic. The men who had been hiding up the road suddenly leapt to their feet and ran to join the struggle. The painful sound of screaming horses was almost too much for Lilian to bear. The terrible symphony was added to by two more mercenary voices joining in with the singing. Lilian took advantage of the chaos to duck out of the barn. She crouched to avoid any stray projectiles and stuck close to the barn wall holding her breath as she went. Fritha padded by her side, which gave her some comfort but fear still drove her forward. She looked up briefly to see the mercenary who had been at the farm, running down the path to join his friends down the road. Lilian was almost at the farmhouse, assuming she’d escaped the worst of it, when she looked up and came face to face with a young man. He looked right at her and held up a trembling hand, a small knife protruded from the fist, its point shaking. The man took a step forward with a heavy limp. Lilian looked down at his legs and saw that the left one was cut and bloodied. This must be the young man who’d stepped in the bear trap. He looked about as keen to be there as Lilian felt. They stared each other down, each one not knowing what next move to take. Lilian reached slowly for her knife but the man stepped forward before she could reach it.
“Stop right there,” He said in a tone of false confidence. Lilian didn’t need to listen to his heart to know it must have been beating at an alarming rate. She could see sweat reflecting on his brow. Knowing that he was scared didn’t comfort her however, scared men act irrationally and Lilian had to be sure to stay on her guard. She knew how to defend against an armed attacker but training and coming up against the real thing were very different. Luckily, the action was taken for her as Fritha stepped out from behind her and growled a low jangling rumble. The man’s eyes widened to the size of saucers and he stepped back absent mindedly, putting his full weight onto his bad foot. His face winced in pain and just as his eyes closed briefly, Lilian heard the now familiar thunk of metal on bone. The man’s eyes rolled up into his head and he fell to the floor with a thud. Mr Attorcop was revealed standing behind him, clutching a silver rod in his right hand. It reminded Lilian of the silver sword he sometimes conjured from a bottle of essence, it had the same shimmering quality to the silver, only it this was thicker and heavier.
“Are you alright?” Lilian nodded, still a little shook up from the night’s events. Mr Attorcop glanced behind her, sounds of shouts and horses still came from down the road.
“I didn’t think there would be more of them.” Said Lilian. Mr Attorcop looked over her shoulder at the scrap happening on the road.
“They must have mentioned the mercenaries and organised back up just in case.” Mr Attorcop spoke with wide eyes. He maintained his composure, but it was clear to Lilian that he was on high alert. He motioned for her to follow him and the two of them crept round to the back of the farm house. From here, they could still hear the occasional singing voice, but the main noise of the fight was muffled. As they turned the corner Lilian saw Mr Hayes and Brackus. The sellsword had his blade out in front of him and nearly jumped out of his skin when Mr Attorcop turned the corner. He relaxed when he saw it was just the two travellers from earlier.
“We should get going, there might be more on the way.” He spoke in a loud whisper, his face dark in the shadow of the farmhouse. Lilian looked at Mr Attorcop and tugged on his cloak,
“I can check.” She raised her eyebrows imploringly. It took him a second to decide but Mr Attorcop finally looked at her and whispered,
“Be quick. Check the whole area, special attention to any waterways that may be masking sound.” Lilian did not have to be told twice and she slipped into her state of hyper focus by the time Mr Attorcop had finished talking. The first sound she had to get over was the heightened sound of Brackus’ voice, he was asking Mr Attorcop about what she was doing. She ignored the voices in her immediate area and stretched her attention out all around her, like was a patient octopus, feeling about for movement. She heard the patter of tiny feet next to a racing heart, a mouse. She heard the slightest of splashes as a sparrow washed itself in a puddle. She avoided the fight as those hearts and hits would be too loud and too close together for her to get anything useful. She did hear the three mercenaries singing though, she kept that in focus as she enjoyed the sound of music while she worked. It wasn’t until she took Mr Attorcop’s advice and paid close attention to a stream about half a mile away that she noticed something strange. The sound of the water was indeed masking something. Thuds. Soft and wet. Footsteps. How many? More than a small group. Coming this way. Hearts slow and soft. Lilian opened her eyes.
“There are more, they’re coming this way from the west.”
“How many?” Asked Mr Attorcop.
“Not sure, but they’re not nervous.”
“How long until they get here?” Lilian had to guess.
“Maybe 2 minutes.” This information sprang Mr Attorcop into action.
“Right, I’m going to warn the mercenaries, you lot, go to the hut where the others are, get the coaches ready. I think we might have to abandon the farm.” Mr Hayes looked confused, but nodded his head in agreement.
“If this had been all of them,” Brackus whispered, “That might have been okay. But you’re right, another wave would be too much. Come, I take you both.” He motioned for Lilian and Mr Hayes to follow him. Lilian made sure Fritha was close by and then started to walk. She caught herself before getting to far and turned back,
“Cromwell.” She whispered through the gloom. In the dim starlight she saw Mr Attorcop turn around, catch her eye, nod in answer to an unspoken request, and then disappear.
The store house was not far and luckily it was North east from the farm so they didn’t run into any trouble on the way. They kept low and quiet. When they reached the run down building, Brackus gave a distinctive whistle. Lilian saw Anna’s face appear at a window. Her eyes looked scared, but they relaxed when she saw her father was with them. The building was larger than Lilian had expected it to be. Once inside, Mr Hayes took charge and explained what had happened before ordering everyone to pack up and ready the horses for a swift exit. Lilian didn’t have anything in particular to pack so she stayed by the window and kept a lookout. At one point she heard a loud bang and saw a flash of light come from the other side of the farm house. She was nervous but positive that she would not leave until she saw Mr Attorcop safely on board one of these wagons. Mrs Hayes put her hand on Lilian’s shoulder after a minute of her watching.
“He’ll be alright.” Her tone was confident and Lilian was momentarily reassured. She knew Cromwell Attorcop to be a fierce fighter when he had to be. But still the seconds past, unrelenting. She looked back at the wagons and saw that most people were ready and waiting to leave. The doors of the store house swung open like a barn and the strapped horses seemed impatient and confused as to why they were not moving. Looking at Mr Hayes Lilian could tell he was purposefully not meeting her eye. He wanted to leave and Lilian couldn’t blame him. She was about to suggest that they go, that they leave her and Mr Attorcop when she took a quick glance back through the window and saw dark figures making their way across the grass.
“There are people.” She whispered to the travellers.
“Friend or foe?” Said Mr Hayes in a shaky whisper. Lilian narrowed her eyes, trying to see any signs of familiarity in the darkness.
“Friends.” She said, she had seen a glint of moonlight bouncing off what was unmistakably a bald head. She jumped back from the glass and clambered onto Mr Hayes’ wagon. She heard him click his tongue and the horses sprang into motion. It left the store house under cover of darkness, followed by the other carts and horses that had made up the caravan. There was an overgrown path in front of them that lead ahead and round towards the main road, passing under a small hill which was cut away to accommodate the road, again hiding it from view of the farm making this storehouse an even better hideaway than Lilian had thought it at first. She touched Fritha’s fur and made sure she was lying down amongst the crates and cargo stashed onto the back of the open wagon. Lilian stood up, waving her hands in the hope that Mr Attorcop would see her. The figures were closer now and the two frontrunners stopped when they saw the wagons leaving the storehouse. They quickly started heading towards the small hill and Lilian understood.
“Keep going.” She leant back and whispered loudly to Mr Hayes, “They’re going to jump on at the hill.” Lilian was smiling when she turned back to track their progress. There were two dark figures one of them was leaning on the other. Mr Attorcop seemed to be assisting an injured man, probably one of the mercenaries. Lilian looked past them, into the darkness and discerned a few more figures rushing through the grass. Each of them left an indent in the long grass as they walked. Mr Attorcop was pointing out the small hill to his companion and then dropped back to the other group. The injured man started to hobble towards the intersection point where he would meet the caravan and escape. Suddenly, Lilian’s heart sank. From on top of the wagon, she had a good view of the scene. She could see the smaller group, presumably made up of the farmers and the other two mercenaries. Mr Attorcop was getting close to them but they hadn’t seen what was approaching from behind. Lilian could see the trenches in the tall grass that her friends had carved out in their passage. She then watched in horror as the grass behind and around her friends began to have similar vein-like trenches carved through it. Crouching assailants were approaching the group and only Lilian could see them, or rather, she saw the signs of their presence. The veins were approaching from all sides, Lilian counted at least 6 before breaking all pretence of stealth and yelling at the top of her lungs.
“RUN!” The group froze for a fraction of a second before quickening their pace. She heard Mr Attorcop barking orders and Mr Hayes even cracked his crop, sparking a whinny from the horses and a lurch that almost made Lilian lose balance. The wagon managed to pick up the first mercenary without a problem. Brackus leant out of the side to grip his arms and hoist him into the seat beside him. Lilian saw that it was one of the mercenary men, he had lost his pike and his leg was hurt. As the caravan sped up, Lilian realised that the rest of the group would have to jump onto the wagons from the hill. Her heart raced and Fritha growled and barked her strange jangling chords seemingly willing the group to go faster, or perhaps just reacting to the sudden chaos. Lilian saw one of the veins catch up with a figure and someone was pulled down into the tall grass. Lilian heard a small shout, and then saw nothing. Whoever this group were, they were a lot more competent than their colleagues who had stormed the farmhouse. Lilian kept her eyes fixed on Mr Attorcop. They were in moonlight now and she could see him clearly. He was helping Solveig who was clutching her left arm. Everyone’s pace quickened and as the wagon approached the small hill, Mr Garrow and his wife were making ready to jump onto a passing cart. One, two then all the Garrows jumped into the wagons passing below them. Lilian watched as everyone landed safely. Her wagon had passed but there was still a chance that Mr Attorcop could jump into the last one. She watched, helplessly as he pushed Solveig unceremoniously into the final wagon. He seemed like he was about to jump, he even had his knees bent in preparation. But the jump never came. Instead, he simply looked up and caught Lilian’s eyes. Confused, Lilian wanted to shout and tell him to jump, but she saw then that something was stopping him. There was an arm wrapped around his front, long and pallid Lilian saw fingers that were three times the length they should be. It gripped Mr Attorcop’s night sky cloak before a second arm reached out and around, tightening its hold on Mr Attorcop’s waist. Lilian looked into his eyes and she noticed his confident, stoic expression. He nodded at her as he disappeared into the distance. Lilian’s eyes filled with tears as she saw a face emerge from behind his shoulder. That terrible and haunting face that would plague her dreams for many nights to come. It was a sad and sallow face, with dull eyes set back in a deformed skull. Its greasy, muck black hair fell over its face and pointed down to a terrifying, slit in its skin where, on any other face there would have been a mouth. It was a face as seen in the worst nightmares of a child. It was the face of a demon. One that had something owed to it, and had now at the worst possible moment, come to collect its due.
Benlunar - Episode 20
The farmers prepare for war.
The Roads of Alicium run through it like veins
From small paths down mountains to city built lanes
They’ll guide you home or take you away
Or make you visit village that begs you to stay
Up through the pass, down through the grass
Stick to your map, veer not from the path
Or perhaps take an unfamiliar bend
After all, the aim of the song is the tune not the end
Lilian stopped in her tracks. Ahead of her she could still see the barn burning away. By now black smoke was billowing out of the roof, creating a tower 30 feet high. She was within shouting distance now of the farmer and his family. The farmer was still holding a pail of water, a pathetic suggestion of hope against the inferno beyond. He was older than Lilian had suspected, Lilian could see white hair sprouting from beneath his straw sunguard hat. His family were nearby, closer to the farmhouse. There was an older woman, presumably the farmer’s wife, and two young men who were similar looking enough to be brothers. They were watching their father square off against a nasty looking man with a pointed nose and a scarred lip. Him and his thuggish friends were blocking the way to the barn. Lilian had heard only moments ago that they were the ones who had set it alight, and were holding it hostage until the farmer gave them some sort of treasure or money in return. The scene was a tragic one and Lilian had hoped to come to the farmer’s aid. Although admittedly, she had no idea how she would be able to help. Currently everyone was frozen still. The fire could be heard cracking and hissing in the barn but the shouted exchanges had stopped. Lilian had also stopped. Everyone was looking about, cocking their heads in confusion as they attempted to discern the source of a song. Lilian could hear it clearly now, it was several voices singing in unison, singing a song she had not heard before. The song was… unsettling. It was melodious and admittedly well sung, but the feeling behind it was threatening somehow. Lilian felt a chill run down her back. It was made worse by the fact that she could not see where the voices were coming from. The group ahead did not appear to have noticed her so Lilian took the opportunity to drop down into the tall grass. Fritha took the hint and dropped to her belly, her coat shifting into a green colour with a grassy texture as she did so. Lilian still could not get over how such a big creature could disappear so easily. One of the thugs shouted something, “Who’s doing that??”
“Shut up!” The pointy nosed man snapped at his friend before reeling around, his eyes darting crazily from corner to corner. Lilian was looking too but then realised that she had better ways of finding sounds that didn’t involve her eyes. She closed her eyes and slipped into a relaxed focus. The first sound to hit her was Fritha’s heavy breathing. She could feel her weight against her and the vibrations of her heart beat echoed through her body with heavy thuds. Lilian expanded her sphere of attention and stretched it outwards. Like tentacles feeling their way through the grass she weaved past insects rubbing their chirping legs together, she found frogs by a creak and the quickened heart beats of the frightened farmers. The bandits were also scared, Lilian could hear their shallow breaths and their clothes rustling as their muscles tensed, ready to spring into fight or flight. The song was always present, like a blanket over the entire scene. This made it difficult to find at first, but after concentrating on the voices for just a few more seconds, Lilian found them. She had expected them to be hidden behind a wall or building, but when she opened her eyes she quickly looked left, expecting to see the singers arriving at any instant from down the main road. The voices hadn’t been making an effort to hide, but the quality of their song had meant that no one could place them. Lilian pushed herself up on her elbows slightly to get a better look. She had distinctly heard 3 voices, two low tones and one higher. As expected, two men and a woman appeared walking down the road towards the farm. The bandits and farmers turned to look at them. Lilian could see that they were wearing the red cloth shirts, dark red trousers and silver breastplates of the hundred. The two men even carried the distinct pikes that had made the small army seem so tall and dangerous. The woman carried two small axes in both hands. Lilian had seem similar axes in Benlunar, her family even had one. They were used to chop smaller bits of wood for the fire. Though Lilian had never seen any so brightly polished.
Lilian was confused, why were these three mercenaries here and not with the rest of their group? She watched as the soldiers approached the burning barn. They stopped singing when they were within speaking distance of the bandits. They rounded off the song by stomping their feet together, kicking up a small cloud of dust as they did. The two men stepped to either side of their female colleague and lowered their pikes. The woman, who Lilian could see was wearing a helmet shaped like a cow’s head, its blank silver eyes twisted into a terrible frozen shout, shifted her weight casually and spoke up.
“Why is this barn on fire?” Her voice was clear and stern. The impact of their impressive arrival was clearly not lost on the bandits. One of the thug’s eyes were so wide Lilian wondered if they might pop out of his head. Their leader was gritting his teeth. It was clear from just looking at the scene what was happening.
“You get out of here understand!? This doesn’t concern you.” He puffed his chest out as he shouted but Lilian could hear the fear cracking his voice. He was about to speak again when the farmer cut him off.
“These villains are burning down my property. They want money but I’ve told them we ain’t got much.” The man with the scarred lip, obviously the leader of these men, rushed towards the old man with his sword up. The farmer shut his eyes and brought his hands up to his face, dropping his bucket in the process. A feeble amount of water splashed to the ground. The clattering of the bucket had only just stopped before the farmer opened his eyes again. A large pike was embedded in the ground in front of him forming a barrier between him and the bandit. It was still vibrating from the impact as Lilian looked to one of the soldiers. He was on one knee, his right hand stretched out in front of him after having released the pike.
“Step back. Leave this place.” The woman with the cow helmet spoke again. The bandit leader, having narrowly avoided being skewered on a pike turn to look at his men. Clearly not wanting to appear weak, he spoke with as much confidence and bravado as his shaky legs would grant him.
“Sod this. We’ll come back later.” He pointed a scarred hand at the farmer, “We know you got money in that house. We got plenty of time, more men and more fire. Come on lads.” He gestured to his cronies and they started walking away. They glared at the soldiers as they walked past. Some men looked pleased to be going, others were angry, probably hoping to prove themselves against some members of the legendary Hundred. Lilian watched them walk disbondantly away and caught sight of a cloud of dust in the distance. Lilian remembered that they had instructed their caravan to take the road round to the smoke, this must be them arriving now. She hoped that the bandits wouldn’t cause them any trouble as they crossed paths.
As soon as the men were a safe distance away the farmer and his family sprang into action. They fetched more pales and ran over to a pump at the side of the farm house. The soldiers helped as well, laying down their pikes and running into the barn to extract any bales of hay that had not yet been touched by the fire. Lilian saw her chance to provide meaningful help and she leapt to her feet. She waved and shouted as she ran towards them and she noticed the soldiers tense ever so slightly as they turned to look at her. But after seeing she was just a young girl with a big dog, they relaxed and went back to helping. About a minute later Mr Attorcop had joined them and the caravan were just pulling up as well. Everyone chipped in and ran about fetching pails of water and trying desperately to save any hay bails. It took nearly an hour to get the fire under control and for people to enter the barn properly to survey the damage. Luckily, the fire had been started by a torch tossed to the top of a large pile of hay, this meant that some of the roof was badly burnt but had the fire been started at the base, it could have been a lot worse. Even so, the farmer’s wife, who Lilian found out was called Gemma, had tears welling in her eyes as she past round cups of tea to everyone who had helped.
“We provide feed for the whole region.” She explained. “Everyone depends on us to feed their livestock in the winter, we’ll manage a few weeks bu…” She cut herself off, stifling a sob. Everyone was sitting on and around the decking in front of the farm house. Some folks were tending to burnt hands, others were resting their eyes after the commotion. The family were still in shock.
“I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t showed up.” The farmer, Tim Garrow was his name, said to the mercenary woman.
“We saw your company earlier.” Mr Attorcop interjected, “What made you separate?” The mercenaries eyed him with cold gazes. Lilian felt uneasy when they spoke, they looked at people as if they were… things.
“We saw the smoke and were instructed to investigate.” The woman with the cow helmet spoke with an accent similar to the people of Hundsberg, only softer. Tim Garrow seemed to be plucking up the courage to say something.
“I’m forever in your debt m… my lady. But I’m afraid I’ve nought to give you for your services, save my gratitude. I’m aware of how you make your living.” The woman looked at him and took off her helmet. Fair hair unfurled from under it and her countenance seemed to soften with it.
“This event can be free of charge.” The farmer’s relief was palpable, “But,” the woman continued, “The man said they would be back. Perhaps they are coming back tonight. We can stay for one night before we must get back to our company. But we will not stay for free.” The proposition hung in the air. Lilian was letting Fritha drink from her cup, but even she turned to look as she sensed the shift in atmosphere. It was not as threatening as setting a barn on fire, but it was almost as cold. The farmer nodded.
“You’ve already done so much. I cannot ask any more of any of you. My family have lived here a long time, we’ve not much, but we’ll handle ourselves if they come back.” Mr Attorcop narrowed his eyes.
“You keep saying you don’t have anything to give. Why were those men so convinced that you had money here?”
“I don’t know! They just showed up and started threatening us and demanding we give them a ton of coin. We have a bit stashed away for a bad winter but it’s really not much and giving it to them could be a death sentence for the farm. It would have been the same as losing the barn so alls I could do was watch it burn.” Everyone thought on his words for a moment. Lilian noticed one of his sons staring at his feet. His eyes glistening with tears. The mood was about to change, Lilian sensed the summation of things with the awkward shifting of weight and occasional glances at the road. Mr Hayes even breathed in a long breath ready to give his condolences and be on his way, when the farmer’s son spoke up.
“It were my fault.” The young man stood up, clutching his loose shirt and looking as though he was about to cry.
“Shut up Ben.” His brother stood beside him.
“JEB…” Both men were cut off by their father. His tone was deadly serious. “What’s all this now? What do you know?” The two boys were the picture of shame. Their cheeks flushed and their eyes darted to the ground and sky. It was Ben who spoke up first.
“Few days back, when me and Jeb were in town. We had a bit to drink. Nothing too crazy, just a few jars at the horns. But there were these men, big blokes saying they’d heard Freedos farmers are rich cos o’ the city trade.” At this point he stuttered and fiddled with his shirt. Lilian could sense his father’s anger rising. Ben continued, “Well I’d had a bit to drink and I wanted to do us proud so I told em we were the richest farmers about. Best product, biggest house.” He plunged his face into his hands, his voice coming out muffled. “I must have drawn em right here and now they think we got a ton of cash to give em. Dad I’m so sorry.” A silence fell. Lilian expected Farmer Garrow to explode in a fire worse than the one they’d just put out. But he simply sighed.
“Well. If that’s what’s put the idea in their head, there won’t be any dissuading them. And I dare say you lot showing up hasn’t managed to persuade anyone that we’re dirt poor.” He pointed at the three mercenaries. Lilian gathered that hiring even three of the hundred would set most folks back an arm and a leg. The mercenaries showed no remorse. They had worked for free once that day, that was enough of an apology. Suddenly, Mr Attorcop spoke,
“We should assume that they were serious about their threat. Right now it doesn’t matter what conclusion they’ve come to, or how, if they plan on taking the farm then we need to assume that’s happening tonight.” He looked at Mr Hayes and his family, “I know the market starts soon, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave…” Mr Hayes cut him off.
“Ooooh no. I may never have met the Garrows before today, but round here we look after our own. I’ll stay and help how I can.” Mr Garrow’s chest swelled with pride and appreciation.
“Much obliged Mr…”
“Hayes.” Mr Garrow thought on the name.
“You’re not Sam’s boy are ye?” Mr Hayes nodded.
“I am and proud to be. We took over the marrow farm two years back. You knew my da?”
“I did. Good man. I was sad to hear of his passing.” The two farmers shared a respectful moment.
“How strange that you have a connection like that!” Mr Attorcop continued, Lilian sensed a hint of mock surprise in his voice, “So if most of us from the caravan stay then we should be a match for what we saw today. The danger arises if they decide to get reinforcements.” At this he turned to the mercenary woman.
“I didn’t catch your names.” They each looked at him, stern and stoic as ever.
“My name is Solveig.”
“Solveig. If you and your colleagues were to stay, then any reinforcements shouldn’t be a problem.” The woman, Solveig, barely let him finish.
“A rate must be negotiated.” Mr Attorcop smiled a rare charming grin.
“I don’t suppose you’d accept a heartfelt appeal to your humanity.” Solveig’s expression did not change.
“No.” She said, “We do accept gold though. If you have no gold then we must be leaving.” At that, one of the younger members of the caravan spoke up. He was a scrawny man that Lilian had barely noticed on the journey. He had a cart of spun and dyed wool and wore a silly woolen hat with a large brim. His voice cracked as he spoke, “You leave now and you might as well drive the swords in us yourself.” Everyone looked at him, but no one disagreed. The comment didn’t seem to bother the mercenaries. Solveig simply looked at him as if… as if he was nothing more than a noise. Like the buzz of a fly. It was then that Lilian had an idea. She got up and walked over to the three red and silver soldiers. Fritha instinctively followed her. She reached into a hidden pocket and pulled out her gold sovereign.
“Here.” She said, “This is all I have. I’m not sure if it will be enough but you’re welcome to it. I’m going to stay and help these people. I would like it if you stayed as well.” Lilian knew their chances of survival would double with three highly trained soldiers on their side. She hadn’t seen anything worth spending the coin on in her travels, this seemed like a worthy cause though. Solveig looked down. For an instant, Lilian thought she saw a sliver of character poke through her stony front. Perhaps it was Lilian’s selfless act, or more probably, it was just that she was surprised to see a child handing over such a large sum. She took it in her left hand and nodded.
“I’m sure this will do.” A palpable sense of relief quickly spread around the group. There was little time to react however, as Solveig addressed them..
“With the acceptance of this coin I confirm a contract between the Garrow family and three members of The Ursus Centurion of Helvetis. We will fight until tomorrow morning at Sunrise or until we believe the contract to be over. Unless anyone has any disagreement, I will be taking control of the operation.” She paused, as if waiting for someone to interject. No one did, many people seemed happy for her to take charge. Lilian looked at some of the pitchforks and blunt spades lying around and wondered if they were really prepared for what was coming.
“Good. I suggest we eat and rest for one hour. Then we begin preparations for defense. I will need all able men and fighters to meet me here. Those not willing to fight must find somewhere distant to hide.” Mr Garrow interjected,
“There’s a store shed through the trees over there. Big enough to hide a cart behind and there’s a stove to keep warm.”
“Good.” Solveig replied, “If you don’t fight, you go there. You don’t light the stove though. Smoke will be seen.” As she said this last part her eyes fell on Lilian, as if she expected her to understand and take heed. Hang on, thought Lilian, does she expect her to hide? Lilian was about to speak up and protest but Solveig continued.
“I need all weapons here and any sacs of manure that you have to spare.” This confused Lilian but Mr Garrow nodded, “Now eat and rest. We begin soon.” Various groups began pulling away and fetching food from their packs. Lilian felt a hand grab her left arm and pull her back towards Mr Hayes’ cart. She looked up to see Mr Attorcop.
“That was…” He faltered, trying to find the right words, “A noble thing you did Lilian. I’m sure the Garrow family appreciates it.” Lilian felt as though she was in some kind of trouble. But she pushed the feeling back, it was her money and her decision.
“I don’t like bullies.” She replied, “Besides, what happened to you not caring? Before Solveig arrived you were ready to leave the Garrow’s to die.” She hadn’t forgotten his words.
“I stand by what I said.” Replied Mr Attocop, “You’re impulsive and reckless. If you had tried to defend the Garrow’s you might have ended up with a sword in your side. You didn’t even…” He sighed a long and controlled breath, apparently trying to suppress some anger or was it fear? “You have the right intentions Lilian. I admire that. But you need to pick your battles. Literally. There is no shame in admitting you can’t help or you can’t win. How can you help others if you’re dead, hm? You need to learn to judge your own abilities. You rushed over here with nothing but good intentions.”
“And Fritha.” Lilian protested.
“Yes and Fritha. But she has teeth, and claws, you have…” He made a gesture at her, waving his arms as if pointing to nothing and everything. Lilian was fed up,
“So what, you want me to fight only when I can win? Wouldn’t that mean I’m always fighting people weaker than me? THAT’S called bullying.” Mr Attorcop shook his head.
“No Lilian. Do you remember what I said when I first told you about the lunar essence? About how power comes from advantage? Every winner has some kind of advantage. Even if it’s just a scrappy attitude, that can always make a difference. The key is to arm yourself with as many advantages as you can, ready to draw from a huge well of hidden gifts and abilities that can adapt to any situation. The key to fighting is the same as the key to politics, only reveal your moves when they are least expected and most needed.” Mr Attorcop started rummaging around his pack. A medium sized black bag with silver studs where the handle met the sack. He pulled out an object wrapped in a grey cloth and handed it to Lilian.
“I know you’re going to want to fight tonight and it seems like I won’t be able to stop you. But at least I can arm you.” Lilian unfolded the cloth to find a long knife nestled inside it. The blade was almost the length of her forearm, which for someone of Lilian’s height meant that it was practically a short sword. Its steel blade reflected Lilian’s wide eyed stare back at her. The handle was light and bronze and looked like the body of a short snake, the scales making a decent grip and the blade itself protruding from the snake’s mouth. It even had four little fangs that gripped the blade. It was beautiful and familiar.
“This was Kissandras knife.” Lilian turned it and rubbed its edge on her thumb. It gave the satisfying scraping sound of a knife sharp enough to cut an onion in one easy swipe.
“A good-looking blade.” Lilian looked up to see Solveig approaching from around the cart.
“The snake is a good ally. It hides until it strikes, unseen and faster than the eye can track.” Lilian covered the blade again and smiled at Solveig. She had put her helmet back on and Lilian couldn’t help but look into its angry eyes.
“Is the cow better than the snake?” Lilian asked, looking up to the helmet. Solveig smiled.
“Better at what?” Lilian wasn’t sure how to respond. Solveig looked to Mr Attorcop.
“You are a man of science?” Mr Attorcop nodded slightly.
“You will help me with the manure.” Mr Attorcop seemed to understand and nodded in agreement. Lilian wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to but didn’t want to pass up an opportunity to ask Solveig something.
“Will you show me how to use it?” She held up the cloth with the blade in it. Solveig looked amused.
“Once everything is ready and only if there is time.” Lilian smiled. Solveig began to walk away when Lilian asked another question.
“Are we going to be ok? Those men from earlier, they looked… nasty.” Solveig walked back and knelt in front of Lilian. Her helmet dropped to Lilian’s eye level. Lilian could see the cow’s angry eyes and the detail shaped into its nose and ears. It was a beautiful piece of equipment. Solveig looked at her and spoke softly.
“Men, nasty or nice, die every day. Let me ask you, do you think more of them die from snakes,” She gestured to Lilian’s knife, “Or from cows.” Solveig had a fire in her eyes as she said this. Lilian was blindsided by the question. As Solveig got up and turned to walk away, Lilian almost called out her answer, she was going to say snakes. Surely more men die from snake bites she thought. But she caught herself as she remembered the two farmers discussing Sam’s death. She remembered the many fences around cow fields and the sheer number and size of the animals kept behind them. This realisation both frightened and reassured her.
A few hours later Solveig called for everyone to meet at the farm house. They had set up barricades along the road leading up to it. Mr Attorcop had helped with those while Lilian had been moving the carts to the store shed. She had helped Anna and Mrs Hayes make the shed as comfortable as possible and they stayed there while Lilian returned to the farmhouse with Fritha trotting beside her. The farmers had gathered various pitchforks, sharp looking rakes and hoes. They’d even found a couple of hunting bows which the two mercenary men were busy checking. The team had been boarding up windows, laying bear traps in the grass and generally preparing the place for a small war. Lilian wondered if this was all a bit much, but reminded herself of what Mr Attorcop had said, that every advantage counts. She felt the weight of her new knife tucked into the back of her belt. She had practised getting it out without cutting herself and was growing more used to carrying it with every hour that went by. Even Fritha had been unsure at first, giving it a proper sniff before letting Lilian tuck it into her belt. Solveig stood on the steps leading up to the farm house door. The sun had set but the various torches dotted around the yard cast a flickering light onto her calm face.
“Tonight we are ghosts.” She started, “We make this farm look like it has been abandoned. We pretend to have run into hiding. We let them take the paths we have set out for them. You know where your traps are and you know your signal to spring them. Our goal is to protect the farm and each other, which means that if our opponents run away then we have victory. Let them run from the ghosts that haunt this place. Let us strike fear into their hearts and make them think twice before attacking innocent folk.” Lilian felt pride and admiration swell in her heart. Solveig looked glorious in her dazzling silver, the torchlight burning brightly in the helmet cow’s eyes. Lilian wanted to applaud, but Solveig’s face grew serious.
“There may be times when you are faced with a difficult choice. There is no shame in not wanting to end a life. But know this. Tonight, there may come a time when not ending a man’s life means that he will end yours. Don’t let indecision make that choice for you. Make it now and save yourself regret. Understand?” Lilian thought hard. She had never considered the actual possibility of killing someone. The knife felt heavy in her belt. She thought for a few moments and made her choice, quietly and to herself. She absent mindedly touched Fritha behind her ears. Solveig wished everyone luck and people started walking towards their designated posts. Solveig looked at Lilian and beckoned her to her side. Lilian gave Mr Attorcop a look, she nodded solemnly and he nodded back. She knew that he had the choice to go and she was thankful that he’d decided to stay. She looked back at Solveig and ran to catch her up. She was heading for the barn, one of the mercenary men walked next to her. When Lilian caught them up they walked in silence until they reached the barn. The man from the hundred, who was tall and broad shouldered and wore a helmet shaped like a bat’s head, heaved the barn doors open and waited until they were inside to shut them. He kept watch while Lilian and Solveig spoke.
“Show me how you fight.” Solveig spoke softly, presumably wanting to keep noise to a minimum since they were laying an ambush. Lilian wrinkled her nose at the smoky smell, there was a glimmer of starlight that shone through the burnt roof, but apart from that there was no light. Lilian could see Solveig’s armour but had to squint to see her expression. Timidly, Lilian brought out her new dagger and shifted her weight into a guarding stance. Fritha seemed to recognise it from her training and crouched behind Lilian’s legs, the hairs on her back raising preemptively. Solveig looked intently at her. Not a single attack had been made, but Lilian suddenly felt every potential weakness was exposed. Solveig’s eyes pierced through darkness and defense. In a silent flash of movement Solveig was holding an axe in each hand. Lilian’s heart began to beat heavy with nerves. Her eyes darted from the axes, to Solveig’s face, to her feet, to the barn. Solveig looked only at Lilian’s eyes.
“Your eyes give you away.” She said, “Look into my eyes and nowhere else. If you look at my right side, be sure to strike my left, understand?” Lilan nodded and focused her gaze on Solveig’s eyes, or at least, where she presumed her eyes were. In the dim light, all she could see were the eyes of the cow on her helmet. They moved closer and Lilian stepped back, Fritha effortlessly getting out of her way as she did. The two stepped around each other, occasionally Solveig would shift her arms or her stance. Lilian would react to every shift like a potential attack, jerking her hands up in defence or ducking before anything was thrown her way. She felt foolish, bouncing around while Solveig moved so fluidly.
“Breathe, find a rhythm.” She said, “when you react like this,” She mimicked Lilian’s quick tensing, bringing her shoulders up and her arms in close to her chest, “you give me a window in the off beat. Watch.” Solveig put her right foot out quickly, Lilian thought she was dashing in for a right slash and her body twitched into a defense, but half a second afterwards Lilian found herself staring at the blade of Solveig’s left axe. “Your defense is good, but only if every attack is true. One feint and you’re done.” She took the blade away and Lilian sighed in relief. Fritha stepped between them growling her strange jangling growl. Solveig’s eyes narrowed at the strange sound. Lilian spoke up before Solveig could ask a question.
“How do I counter a feint?” Solveig snapped out of her focus on Fritha.
“You wait until the last moment to defend. You stay calm. You keep your weapon close to your body and you shift your whole upper body, not just your arms, when you parry.” She brought her axes in close to her chest and demonstrated her pivoting defences. Lilian watched as her shoulders span left and right in attempts to dodge an imaginary enemy. Just then, the barn lit up and Solveig’s shifting, silver form could be seen clearly dodging and parrying, dancing to no music in the light of the moon which was now directly above the barn. Lilian wanted to watch for longer, she was raptured by the grace and power. She could have watched all night, but just then the mercenary with the bat helmet turned to them both and spoke,
“They’re here.”
Benlunar - Episode 19
Lilian sees an army.
The Roads of Alicium run through it like veins
From small paths down mountains to city built lanes
They’ll guide you home or take you away
Or make you visit village that begs you to stay
Up through the pass, down through the grass
Stick to your map, veer not from the path
Or perhaps take an unfamiliar bend
After all, the aim of the song is the tune not the end
As Lilian Lausanne, Cromwell Attorcop and Fritha the Feinhound continued to travel over the next few days, signs of civilisation began to increase. Small roadside taverns and even little villages would appear more and more as they got closer to the country’s capital. It was during an overnight stay in one such village that they met Mr Hayes and his family. The Hayes’ were marrow farmers from an area called Crookleford. It took Lilian a few conversations to get the name right as Mr Hayes’ accent was as thick and heavy as country butter.
“We’re just on our way to Freedos to sell the harvest then we’re heading back. Unless something keeps us there.” Mr Hayes set his heavy mug of beer down on the table with a clunk. Some of it sloshed over the brim and splashed the stained wood. Mrs Hayes tutted as she drew her hand back from getting wet.
“We’ll be glad of the company. The roads have been kind to us so far but bigger groups are always safer.” Mr Attorcop nodded slowly in agreement. Lilian was only half paying attention. She was more interested in the musician who was tuning her fiddle near the Inn’s fireplace, it seemed as though she was about to play something and Lilian hadn’t heard music in many weeks. She was sitting opposite a girl called Anna, the Hayes’ daughter. Anna was a little older than Lilian, possibly 16 or 17. She had straight black hair and a round, pretty face. Her two front teeth were large and visible whenever she smiled. Which was all the time. Currently she was smiling at Fritha who was snoozing under the table. Lilian had managed to train her to wear a shaggy brown coat that made her look like a large brown dog to the untrained eye. As long as they kept her low and calm she could mingle in crowds without too much fuss.
“What kind of dog is she?” asked Anna, snapping Lilian out of her daydream.
“Hm? Oh… I’m not sure. My… family friend breeds them in the mountains. They’re trained to rescue people from the snow.” Everyone had heard stories of such dogs and Lilian knew that a little familiarity wouldn’t hurt when describing Fritha to strangers. She had used the line on a traveller after his pack donkey had been startled by Fritha’s size. It seemed to comfort people as snow dogs were famously good natured. Anna nodded her head.
“Is it true they have little barrels round their necks with spirits in em?” Lilian smiled.
“Sometimes, yes.” The two girls fell silent as the fiddler started her first song. Lilian watched and listened and wondered if she should say something to fill the growing silence. She had never really been close friends with any girls. She found other girls irritating a lot of the time. Anna seemed nice though.
“Do you have a dog on the farm?” Asked Lilian. Anna shook her head.
“No. We got cats though, cos of the mice and rats. I like cats.”
“Me too.” Said Lilian, and she felt a pang in her stomach as she remembered her neighbour’s cat, Tuffson, a beautiful grey creature who was extremely friendly, but about as much good at catching mice as a particularly furry cushion.
“How comes your heading to Freedos?” Asked Anna as she stroked Fritha’s ears.
“My uncle works there, I’m going with him to help.” Days on the road had given Mr Attorcop and Lilian time to work on their backstory. They had also come up with a plan as to what do if they were separated, attacked by bandits or even kidnapped. Most plans involved them being their secret alter egos. Lilian hadn’t known why there was so much need for secrecy, but then she remembered their encounter with Kissandra the assassin in Benlunar, and decided that secret identities, at least for the time being, were probably a good idea.
“What about you?” Lilian asked quickly so as to avoid further questions about her work in Freedos.
“What do you mean?” Asked Anna.
“Well do you sell the harvest in a market? Or to shops? I’ve never been to Freedos.” Anna understood.
“Oh no, I don’t really help much with the selling. We’re quite well known in Checkered square market so the produce sells itself really. I like to come along and see the city though.” Her eyes darted to her parents, making sure they were deep in conversation before she lowered her voice and leant forward, conspiratorially.
“But this time, Da said I had to come along and help and that I was sure to dress nice.” Lilian was curious.
“Why?”
“Well, I think it’s cos he’s looking for me to get married.” A string on the musician’s fiddle snapped and Lilian’s mouth dropped open. She almost shouted, “MARRI…” But Anna shushed her by closing her hand over Lilian’s mouth. Anna giggled.
“It’s only a guess. I’m of age after all.”
“Yes but…” Lilian lowered her voice. “Do you want to get married?” Anna shrugged.
“I suppose. Would be nice to meet a noble man and be whisked off my feet like in the stories. A decent dowry would really help the farm and Lizzie Wickle, a girl from my village, says I could marry rich on account as I’m quite pretty.” Lilian didn’t know what to say. Anna can’t have been much older than her and she had never even considered getting married, let alone make a detailed plan about it. Anna seemed excited though so Lilian didn’t press her with questions, not wanting to sew seeds of doubt. The adults seemed to have come to an agreement as the fiddler struck up another tune. Within less than an hour the entire inn was singing old travel songs. Mr Attorcop finished his drink and shouted to Lilian above the din that he was going to bed and that she should probably try and sleep soon as well. They were going to join the Hayes’ caravan in the morning and they would be leaving early. Lilian nodded and waited until the song was finished before tapping Fritha on the neck and leading her up to their room. They got some strange looks as they mingled through the crowd but Lilian was quick enough so as to not let Fritha stay in anyone’s sights for too long. By the time she reached the back stair case of the Inn the fiddler had started up again and the familiar tune was met with raucous cheers that dimmed with each step Lilian took up to the first floor. She found her little room that she had been designated earlier that evening and she got ready for bed. The bed was not exactly luxurious, but compared to sleeping on the mat of her travel tent, it felt positively royal. Even Fritha seemed excited to be curling up on a warm carpet next to a stove fireplace. Lilian smiled as her head hit the pillow the songs and faces of her fellow travellers still whirling around her head.
Lilian slept so well that she had some difficulty waking up the next morning. Mr Attorcop had to wrap sharply on her door several times before she realised that she wasn’t dreaming the sound. She mumbled groggily that she was awake and opened her eyes to see an anxious Fritha pawing at the door. Her coat was a strange orange colour dappled with blue spots. Lilian remarked at how her colours often seemed to be most vibrant in the mornings. She was sorry to have to go through her colour changing training to make sure she was fit to mix with the other travellers, many of whom were doubtless already awake even at this early hour. Minutes laters, Lilian was chewing a crust of bread whilst Fritha relieved herself behind a tree. Lilian watched as the Hayes family and a couple of other folk loaded up their carts and bridled their horses, getting ready for the day’s travel. When Fritha had finished they approached Mrs Hayes who was smiling.
“Nice day for it.” She remarked. Lilian looked up to the blue sky and nodded.
“Let’s hope it keeps it up.” Lilian never really knew what to say when people talked to her about the weather, but she’d heard that phrase once and found that it fit in most situations. The opposite of course being ‘let’s hope it changes quickly’. Just then, as she approached the cart, the horse that Mrs Hayes was tending let out a loud whinny. The chestnut mare stomped her feet and began jerking her neck back. Mrs Hayes was caught off guard and stumbled as she tried to calm the animal. Lilian looked on, confused. She noticed that it’s brown eyes were wide and fixed on Fritha.
“There now Honey.” Mrs Hayes said in a reassuring tone. “S’only a dog, albeit a big one.” Lilian looked down at Fritha who was yawning and looking about, seemingly oblivious to the effect she was having on the horse’s mood.
“Sorry,” Lilian started to lead Fritha aside, out of the horse’s eyeline.
“Don’t worry my love, Honey’s always been a nervous nag. I’ve seen her jump at her own reflection in a puddle.” Mrs Hayes laughed and Lilian led Fritha towards the back of the cart, reminding herself that she shouldn’t take Fritha too close to horses in the future. To the human eye she might look like a big dog, but to a horse’s nose, gods know how she must seem. Within the space of half an hour everyone was packed and ready to go. Mr Hayes seemed to have appointed himself troupe leader and he gave a loud whistle to signify departure. With the Hayes family and a few stragglers, Lilian counted 11 people in their caravan. Most were farmers or traders making the trip to the city to sell their goods. From talking to everyone Lilian learned that these big city markets were essentially a farmer’s main source of income, they couldn’t afford to get robbed or break down on the journey, hence the safety in numbers of the caravan.
“Are the roads near Freedos really that dangerous?” Asked Lilian. It was halfway through the morning and she was speaking to a middle aged man with a greying beard, who was wearing a leather jerkin and a small sword on his belt. His name was Brackus and Lilian wondered if his dark skin meant that he was from the desserts to the south.
“They can be.” He replied, keeping his eyes down on the road so as to navigate potholes as he walked. “That’s why I work with caravans quite a bit. Petty thieves see a few swords dotted amongst the group, they usually think twice about taking a chance. The farmers group together and pay me to keep watch, it’s an extra expense but usually worthwhile if it means they don’t lose their whole stock.” Lilian nodded in understanding. She watched Brackus scan the horizon with sharp blue eyes. They practically shone out from his dark face.
“Have you ever been in a fight?” She had been hesitant to ask the question as she wasn’t sure if it was something personal. Brackus didn’t seem to mind. He was a man of few words but opened up once he got on the subject of his work.
“I used to be in the Zandt military so yes I’ve been in a few fights. These days I hope there are more fights behind me than ahead though.”
“Do you ever go back to Zandt?” Lilian asked, curious as to what the mysterious deserts must be like to live in. Brackus shook his head.
“Not for some time. Doma invaded 2 years ago and it’s still dangerous to go back.”
“Doma?” Asked Lilian. For the first time, Brackus looked directly at her, apparently shocked by her ignorance.
“The kingdom to the west. Doma.” Lilian was embarrassed and so pretended to have misheard him.
“Oh, yes of course.” She mumbled, hoping her face wasn’t getting too red. This seemed to assuage Brackus. The two chatted about less serious things as the hours dragged by. Lilian mentioned that she wanted to learn how to fight and Brackus agreed to show her a few things if they ended up having to camp down for the night.
“It’s good for girls to fight.” He said, “In Alicium too few girls can fight. And in Freedos, ha!” He gave a loud shouting laugh, “They only know how to fight with words. I will give you a secret.” He leant down and lowered his voice to a mock whisper, “There has never been a word sharper than a blade, hahaha.” Brackus chuckled to himself. Lilian smiled. The phrase made her think of some of the arguments she used to have with her classmates in Madame Streng’s school. She always got so angry when the other children could think of witty or mean things to say. She could never think of anything clever and usually ended up shoving someone instead. Of course, hours later she would think of the perfect thing to say, but by then it was too late. She would have gotten into trouble for fighting and the mean kid in question would be let off. She looked over at Brackus’ scabbard strapped to his belt. It was leather bound wood studded with iron beetles. It was about the length of her arm and curved back like a crescent moon. They were walking near the front of the caravan. Mr Attorcop was sitting by Mr Hayes on top of the marrow cart a little way behind them. The sun was at its highest point in the sky and Lilian’s stomach was growling at her. Fritha was happily darting in and out of the tall grass by the road, thankfully keeping her brown shaggy coat on. Lilian looked up to Brackus and was about to ask him a question, when she noticed his eyes narrowed and focused on the road ahead. She followed his gaze and saw a figure on horseback coming from the opposite direction. The wind picked up at the same moment and the tall spring grass ebbed and flowed making it look like the rider was cutting through a deep green ocean. As they approached, Lilian saw that it was a man dressed in red and wearing silver plated armour. His horse was armoured as well, its massive head reflecting the sun’s light by way of polished metal plates. Lilian could hear the rider now, each of the horse’s thudding steps rang and clattered the layered plates. It was a majestic site. Lilian’s mind instantly jumped to the stories of knights and dragon slayers she had loved as an infant. She initially thought the rider carried a spear, but now she saw that it was a long pole with a flag on its top, flapping and dancing in the wind. The flag was also red but had a large black bear streaked across it. Lilian turned to ask Brackus if he knew what the bear signified but when she did, she realised that he was no longer walking beside her. She turned back to see him in the middle of the road, his eyes wide and much of the colour drained from his face. The entire caravan had come to a halt and Lilian instinctively called Fritha to her side as she began to jog back.
“Who is he?” She asked as she got close to Brackus. He snapped out of a reverie and looked down at her. As he opened his mouth to say something, she heard a deafening shout from the rider behind her.
“MAKE WAY!” The red and armoured man was closer now and Lilian could see that his metal breast plate was untarnished, unscratched and practically good as new. He had a dark beard and a helmet on that had tight curled ram’s horns coming off it and down the side of the rider’s face. Lilian was stunned by his presence and his cry. She wanted to turn and run back to Mr Attorcop but the rider’s second shout forced her to act differently.
“MAKE WAY ON THE ROAD!” The cry echoed towards the caravan and everyone, including Lilian sprang into action and started to pull the horses and carts off the road and into the long grass. Lilian jumped into the long grass as she watched Mr Hayes struggle with his mare Honey who was confused and having difficulty pulling the cart over the lip that marked the edge of the road. Lilian wondered at what might be causing the commotion, the road was not a small country lane, it could easily have two caravan’s pass by each other without trouble. Why then were they being forced off to one side?
“Who is he?” Lilian asked Brackus finally, now that most of the carts were in the grass. Brackus still seemed distracted, his eyes flicking from the rider to the rest of the party.
“His flag is the black bear.” Lilian could see that, but she did not know what it meant. Once again, she would have to betray her ignorance if she was going to get answers. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but it was the strange rider that gave her the answer.
“MAKE WAY. DO NOT INTERFERE WITH THE MARCH. MAKE WAY FOR THE HUNDRED.”
And then Lilian saw them.
Coming from down the road, as a sea of red and silver, was an army. Not a large army, but clearly a formidable one. Each soldier carried a pike, as tall as three men on each other’s shoulders and it was these that Lilian saw first. As the front unit approached Lilian could see their black boots, loose red trousers and shirts and various weapons strapped to their backs and belts. Not every member carried a pike, dotted between these spearmen were smaller groups of fighters with only axes and swords. It was when one of these groups got close enough that Lilian realised that the force was not only made up of men, but several women were peppered through the ranks. As they marched closer, the steady rhythm of steps got louder and louder. It was a quick beat and not one soldier missed a step. Lilian wondered at how they could all maintain such a rapid pace for so long. If she had been walking so quickly she thought, she would have had to stop for the day several hours ago. Now she understood why they were forced off the road. An army like this was clearly going somewhere in a hurry and could not afford to have to slow down. Lilian dreaded to think at what might have happened if a cart had broken down and they had not been able to clear the way. The sound of boots and clanking armour was deafening as the army walked past. Lilian marvelled at their helmets. Some were shaped like dog heads, others had silver wings sprouting from the sides. She even saw one that curled round the face of a woman with octopus tentacles made of beaten brass. None of the soldiers looked at the caravan as they passed but Lilian studied each of them in wide-eyed amazement. Once they had gone, it was as though the caravan breathed out a collective sigh. Slowly, the horses and carts were guided back on the road and the group continued their comparatively slow journey. Lilian was overflowing with questions but she wanted to make sure Brackus had finished his duties in helping the farmers before pestering him. Once they were well and truly back underway, Lilian fell into step with Brackus once again.
“Who were they?” She asked. Brackus kept his voice low.
“They are the hundred. The Empress must be getting desperate.”
“Are they the army of Freedos?” said Lilian. Brackus raised his eyebrows.
“No no. Freedos has a much bigger army than that. The hundred are mercenaries. An army for hire. Very good, very expensive.”
“Mercenaries.” replied Lilian, “Like you?” This got a good laugh out of Brackus.
“No no, not like me. Sometimes I fight for money. Maybe thieves, maybe drunk fools. But I don’t fight soldiers, armies three times the size of my group. I know how to use a sword but the hundred? They are a band that plays weapons like instruments. They say that if you hear their song, you are already dead.” Lilian looked back, but all she could see was the settling dust left in the wake of the hundred.
Lilian fell back and climbed the side of Mr Hayes’ cart to sit with him and Mr Attorcop. She kept an eye on Fritha who had gone back to rummaging around the tall grass.
“What did you make of them?” Mr Attorcop spoke as Lilian clambered onto the small bench atop the cart.
“They looked quite...serious.” She replied.
“Ha!” Mr Hayes laughed. “That’s a good way of putting it. I had heard they were marching to Freedos, I suppose they’ve been given their orders from the Empress by now.” He clicked his tongue at Honey the horse, trying to distract her from a puddle she’d found.
“I hadn’t realised the war had come this far.” Said Mr Attorcop.
“Not yet.” Mr Hayes replied, “But it’s on its way. I reckon the hundred are off to guard the Triford pass, maybe even Cutter’s bridge.” He flicked his string whip as he spoke and Mr Attorcop nodded solemnly. Lilian was becoming more and more aware of just how little she knew of the politics and the goings on of the wider world. Benlunar had never felt particularly connected to all that so she hadn’t bothered to ever ask or find out. Travelling to Freedos however, meant that she would be in the middle of it all, the cradle of culture and the home of Alicium’s nobility. She wouldn’t be able to move without bumping into a political situation. Lilian smiled, excited by the prospect of being that close to the actions and decisions that kept the world turning.
After a short break for food and water, the caravan continued on their journey. Lilian had expected to see the city in the distance at any moment, but Mr Attorcop reminded her that they might still be a day or two away. The grassy plains gave way to fenced paddocks and dozens of dozy cows occasionally looked up from their grazing to watch the group pass by. Lilian played a game with herself, trying to count how many were brown and how many were black. Occasionally they would pass smaller fields with pigs squealing in excitement, thinking they were about to be fed. Once they even saw a herd of funny looking creatures that looked like big sheep with long necks. Lilian tried walking up to one and feeding it but it just took one good look at her and spat in her face before running away. The caravan watched the whole thing and everybody laughed. Lilian laughed as well, she’d gotten quite dirty since their stop in Hundsberg, what was a little chewed cud on top of the rest of the muck and mud?
At early evening the group fell silent, admiring the pink and purple sky at sunset. A murmur however started to travel down the troupe as black smoke was spotted up ahead. Lilian stood on her seat to see if she could find its origin.
“There are some buildings over there.” She reported, “Maybe a farm? I think…” She squinted and strained her eyes, “I think one of them is on fire.” This sent louder whispers through the group. Lilian didn’t want to make any assumptions, but by now she could clearly see an orange glow catching on the base of the pillar of smoke. She looked at Mr Attorcop.
“What should we do?” She asked. Mr Attorcop looked thoughtful.
“Mmm it might just be a barn fire. Not much we could do to help if that was the case.” Lilian felt a pang of anger. “What do you mean, nothing we could do? We could at least try. We could at least try and grasp the essence of the situation.” She raised her eyebrows meaningfully. Mr Attorcop didn’t have to look back at her to understand.
“We could try. But we wouldn’t want to lose anything important.” Thankfully Mr Hayes came to the rescue.
“You could take Anna’s pony, ride on ahead if you like. We could meet you there. Might be that they’d let us spend the night in a barn or on something soft if we help out. Always better to kip with more people around.” Lilian grinned and began to hop down off the cart. She whistled loudly and Fritha came bounding out of the grass to her side. She had a rat in her mouth which she promptly gulped down in 3 big snaps of her jaws.
“Lilian,” Mr Attorcop called out, “I believe I’ve spoken to you before about recklessly running into situations.” Lilian was in the middle of helping Anna down off her chestnut pony when she paused for thought. If someone needed help then she wasn’t about to ignore them. She considered putting her foot in the stirrups and just galloping away. But she remembered what had happened in Hundsberg when she rushed off into the night without thinking. Mr Attorcop was slowly getting off the cart and reached Lilian by the time she was sitting in the saddle. Lilian looked down at him with wide eyes. She even considered trying to cry but thought that might be a bit much. Mr Attorcop breathed out a long sigh and looked back at Mr Hayes,
“I think the road turns off a few minutes away, we’ll cut across the field and meet you there.” Lilian’s heart leapt. Mr Attorcop looked back at her.
“Well move back then.” Lilian shuffled back in the saddle and made room for Mr Attorcop to sit and take the reins. He clicked his tongue, dug his heels and the chestnut pony lurched into a run. Mr Attorcop steered it off the road and onto the field, the grass was short and so there was little chance of potholes or mole hills breaking the pony’s leg. Fritha galloped by their side and Lilian was thankful for the blinkers fitted to the pony’s head. She didn’t want it spooking at this speed. In just a few minutes they’d closed a significant distance between them and the buildings. They could clearly see now that it was a small group of barns, stores and a farmhouse. One of the big barns still had smoke spewing from its open doors and roof. There were people milling around its base, at first Lilian assumed they were the farmers trying to put the fire out, but as they got closer, she could see that most of the figures were just watching the barn burn, some were even stepping in front of people with buckets of water, preventing them from entering the barn. Mr Attorcop pulled on the reins and slowed the pony down to a walk.
“What are they doing?” Asked Lilian. She couldn’t make out any faces clearly, but the people in front of the barn doors were men, dressed in dark clothes. Possibly leather armour, thought Lilian. One of them had a sword out, Lilian could see it occasionally catching the light of the setting sun. The man had the sword out in front of him and he was using it to gesture back and forth to the barn. He was speaking too, but they were too far away for Lilian to make out what they were hearing. Then she realised something.
“I’m going to try and hear what they’re saying.” She said to Mr Attorcop. He nodded and replied,
“I don’t think they’ve seen us yet. I’m going to take the pony to that copse.” He gestured to a small group of trees off to the right hand side of the buildings. As she felt the pony change direction, Lilian closed her eyes and focused. With all the practise she had been doing, the state of hyper attention came quickly. At first it was difficult to ignore the sounds of the pony’s hooves, breathing and heartbeat. But after about 30 seconds she managed to stretch her attention out towards the burning barn. The fire cracked and fizzed in her ears, masking the dim sound of speech. Eventually Lilian tuned the fire out enough to be able to catch what the men were saying. It was hard to link voices to the various movements and heartbeats but Lilian found that by focusing on the ringing and swishing of the iron sword she could pick out what the wielder was saying.
“You heard.” The words were dim but the longer the gruff voice spoke, the clearer it became.
“No one goes near the barn until we get our money. So you can put that bucket down and go back inside.” Lilian could hear the water sloshing about the wooden bucket, it was next to the fearful, quickening heart of the farmer. Lilian heard him speak next, his voice was shaky but the sound was clear as a bell.
“You scum. You let that burn down and you’re killing us. My family need…” He was cut off by the gruff voice.
“Your family need some sense knocked into ‘em. The longer you’re out here chattin’ the more your precious barn burns.” Lilian opened her eyes and whispered low and quick to Mr Attorcop.
“They’re holding the barn hostage.”
“How many?” Mr Attorcop replied.
“9, maybe 12 men. Some have swords. The farmer is trying to put out the fire but they’re demanding a ransom while it burns.” Lilian heard Mr Attorcop curse under his breath. She felt the pony slow down as it reached the clump of trees.
“What should we do?” Lilian spoke quickly, formulating a hundred plans in her head. She felt Mr Attorcop breathe out a large sigh.
“Mr Attorcop. Cromwell? What do we do?”
“Nothing.” Lilian had to make sure she’d heard him correctly. The word hung in the air as solemn as a death sentence from the lips of a judge.
“Nothing!?” Lilian almost shouted, but caught herself in time so as to not alert the bandits, “But…”
“Listen to me Lilian. We cannot get mixed up in every fight we come across. If what you say is true we are outnumbered and that’s with inexperienced farmers on our side. This world is full of injustice, it’s not our job to right them all.” Lilian remembered the speed of the farmers heartbeat and the quivering fear in his voice. She felt tears well up in her eyes.
“We’re not even going to try…”
“And get ourselves killed in the process? I’m sorry Lilian. But us coming over here and assessing the situation, that IS trying. That is seeing how we can help and realising that we can’t. If we bandied over there right now we might even make things worse. I say we cut back across the field and hope we can catch the caravan before they get too close.” Lilian heard and understood the words but they sounded wrong in her ears. There was that feeling again. That cramp in the pit of her stomach she’d felt in the days after Kilde passed away. She’d come to know it as injustice. Unfairness. A sense of powerlessness and weakness and and… And she hated it. Without thinking, Lilian dropped off the pony and whistled. In seconds she had Fritha at her side and she was striding towards the tower of smoke. Rage burned in her heart as she broke into a run. She heard Mr Attorcop shouting in a loud whisper but the words passed over her head. He could stay if he wants. But Lilian understood something now. She understood why she was learning to fight, why she was practising Gloaming. It was all so that she’d never have to feel frail or helpless again. It was so that she could help people who needed help, it was so that she could change the outcome of tragedy. It was for… it was for… The word was on the tip of her tongue but something was distracting her. Over the growing roar of the fire and shouts of the farmer and his family. Lilian could have sworn she could hear… singing.
Benlunar - Episode 18
Lilian gets her first lesson in “magic”.
The Roads of Alicium run through it like veins
From small paths down mountains to city built lanes
They’ll guide you home or take you away
Or make you visit village that begs you to stay
Up through the pass, down through the grass
Stick to your map, veer not from the path
Or perhaps take an unfamiliar bend
After all, the aim of the song is the tune not the end
“I thought you hated the word magic?” Said Lilian, trying desperately to keep her excitement out of her voice. She had found that insisting on learning things or getting excited about anything around Mr Attorcop tended to make him shy away from it and go back to the basics.
“I do.” He replied, flicking a fish scale he had just picked from his teeth into the water, “And I thought you were going to come up with a better name for it?” Lilian felt herself go red.
“Well it’s hard to name something if you don’t know what it is…” She mumbled. Mr Attorcop smiled. “An excellent point. You know the travelling Laguina people say that names have power, to know something’s true name is to have control over it.” Lilian considered this, she enjoyed learning about the beliefs and cultures of the world, and the fact that names have power made a certain amount of sense.
“So by all means,” Mr Attorcop continued, “Take your time to name the art.” The three travellers were sitting by a small lake. The sun was setting behind the hills on the other side and what clouds were in the sky were turning pink in the evening light. It was warm and Lilian’s hands were dusty after maneuvering the rocks on the small beach into a circle large enough for their fire. The fire itself just like the setting sun, had burned down to an orange glow and the smell of cooking fish still clung to the smoke that came off it. Fritha the feinhound was standing ankle deep in the lake, fascinated by the fishes that moved about the shallows. Occasionally the silence of the scene was broken by her head splashing into the water, to emerge with a wriggling fish in her jaws and a smug smile on her face. Each time she would rush to Lilian to show her the fish, to which Lilian gave her much praise whilst also avoiding the inevitable shower of lake water when Fritha shook herself dry. Lilian didn’t mind this too much. She was too excited about what Mr Attorcop had just said. Time I taught you some magic, he’d said. Which meant tonight’s training would be different. Most days on the road had been completely devoid of anything that could be called magic. Each morning they awoke and practised focusing. Then they would eat something and Lilian would play with Fritha. Then they would walk. They left the forest and found the fields. Long sweeping hills made of grass and earth, marked only by the dust road on which they travelled. They talked while they walked and Lilian learned many things. She learned history and philosophy as well as how to win an argument even if you knew less than your opponent. She learned how to behave at court in Freedos and how to address different members of the nobility. She learnt about economics and maths. She learned about what plants you could eat and the names of different types of cloud. She even learned that had they taken the main road they would have reached Freedos days ago, but seeing at how few people they met on their journey Lilian understood why they hadn’t taken it. Lilian was learning many things. But magic was not one of them. Until now. As the sun set the pair prepared themselves for their evenings practise. Since her time in Hundsberg, Lilian had managed to slip into her state of hyper attention several times. At first, she could only do so at night, and it wasn’t always guaranteed. But a few times in the past week she had been able to find it in the morning as well and for the past three days she had reliably found it both at night and during the day. This seemed to satisfy Mr Attorcop enough to convince him of moving on to the next stage of training.
Lilian finished her fish as the sun finally set behind the hills and the first few stars were coming out from hiding. She found a comfortable position on a large rock and sat with her back straight and her legs crossed. Fritha seemed to recognise the routine and stepped out of the water and found a spot near the fire to lie down. Each practise began in a similar way with Mr Attorcop instructing her to close her eyes.
“And take a deep breath…
“Keep breathing in this way and pay attention to your body as it moves. If you find any part of you is tense simply acknowledge it and relax. We are in no rush. We have no agenda. Keep breathing and allow your mind to focus on the sound of it.” In the past, Mr Attorcop would have continued, encouraging Lilian to focus on the sound of his voice, and then the sound of the water or the wind in the trees. But after all this time Lilian needed little encouragement. She found her senses slipping into another place. A dark world illuminated by sound and smell. The cooked fish hit her hardest, she smelt it on her clothes as well as the coals of the fire where their dinner had dripped while cooking. She heard soft searing sounds as the last of the oil was being heated on the burned wood. She followed the feeling and allowed her attention to grow beyond their campsite. She heard Fritha’s breathing, slow and methodical. She even heard her heart beat, a pleasant counter rhythm to the slow breath. By now Lilian had taught herself to treat the sounds like lights in the darkness. She found that she could relax and see many lights all around her, or she could block out most of them and focus on only one or two. She enjoyed the sounds under the water. They were both muffled and clear at once. Sound travelled through water more quickly than through air, so when she moved her attention to the lake Lilian could see the million little lights of heartbeats and tail swishes from the minnows and bigger fishes. Her ears found frogs far away as well as mice in the rocks nearby. Sometimes she found a sound that she could not identify. These were the ones that fascinated her most. She would explore them and move around them until their mysteries were revealed. She was doing just this to a sound that turned out to be a snapping terapin, scrambling over bedrock in the middle of the lake (she could tell from the occasional bump that its shell made when it hit a stone) when Mr Attorcop spoke again. In this state, his whisper sounded like a town crier in an empty square.
“Listen very closely Lilian. You’ve become an excellent observer of the world but now you are going to shift your focus to your place within it. Bring your attention back to the beach, back to your breathing and your body but stay in this attentive state of mind.” Lilian did as she was told. She traced the rocks and rhythms in the water back to the stoney beach, she saw three bright lights there, one was Mr Attorcop, shining steadily and bright. The other was Fritha, flickering and wild. The last was herself. It felt strange to turn the focus around like this and observe her own body from a distance. It was like shouting near a large wall and waiting for the echo to come back, only the echo was clearer and sharper than the original voice that made it. She focused on the breeze moving her red hair, listening as the air whistled through its matted clumps. She found her heart beat which was slow and reliable. The light it made in this state of focus was a low golden glow. Lilian found it beautiful and wanted to stay there and watch it for hours, pulsating gilded waves through her blood and across her skin. It even shifted the fibres in her clothes before eventually disolving into the air around her. Lilian heard, smelled and felt all of this. A chorus of colours presided over by her deep breathing, a calming low sound like wind in a cave.
“Do you see yourself clearer now?” She heard Mr Attorcop say. Lilian made her head nod. It was strange giving orders to her body like this, usually she wouldn’t even think of how to do it, but from all this way away it felt like getting a puppet to nod. Both distant and familiar at once.
“Good.” He continued, “Now you might notice that your own body seems different in this state yes?” Another clunky puppet nod. “I want you to try and get some of that feeling to spread into the stones and dust around you. If you see colour then try and make the stones you’re sitting on take on that colour. Or if you feel vibration or music or you taste something strange, try and have the surrounding area become that thing too.” Lilian could hear the words but it took some time for her to work out their meaning. Was he referring to the strange golden light than was coming from her heart? That was certainly different to the grey little echo lights that the fish and rocks around her were making. But it felt so special, so uniquely hers that thinking of anything else in that way seemed uncomfortable. Like when you know someone else has slept in your bed. Besides, Lilian found herself thinking, these rocks are dull and dusty, how could they ever become so golden bright? Impossible. But still she tried. She tried seeing if she could imagine the rocks to be a similar colour, but her imagination was foggy here. Her mind was so focused on the present moment that taking it away even just to imagine something made the lights flicker or dim. Instead, Lilian tried to see if she could feel the echoes of her pulse spread out into the stones and sand around her. She focused on this for quite some time before giving up. She found a reliable wave spreading from her body, but it dimmed and faded within moments of entering the ground. Next, she tried lending the rocks her glow, and this seemed to work at first. There was one particularly smooth rock near her right knee that took on some of the golden shine but she found that she could not be apart from it for long and her body snatched it back jealously. Lilian began to feel frustrated.
“Are you having any success?” Lilian shook her head, feeling closer and closer to herself as anger crept into her efforts. Mr Attorcop asking whether or not she was succeeding did not help. Lilian did not enjoy failing and so she tried to force the glow out of her. She pushed against the walls of her skin and mind and instantly felt her head begin to ache. Some light had managed to eek out, but keeping that up for more than just a few seconds would be impossible. As if sensing her difficulty, Mr Attorcop spoke up.
“Do not worry if you are having trouble. It may take several attempts. If you wish to stop trying for tonight you may do so. If not, simply try different techniques and follow one that seems to be working. Remember, you’re trying to fill your surroundings with yourself.” Lilian almost huffed at the ridiculousness of that impossible statement. It was one of those vague and annoying phrases that Mr Attorcop came up with every now and again. She felt her focus slipping as her frustration grew and she reminded herself to breathe slowly and deeply and push any thoughts or feelings of anger out of her, as in this moment they were as useful as a hammer with a hole in it.
Breathe. Focus.
Lilian tried several other techniques, but nothing seemed to be working. She was ready to admit defeat and try another day, when the moon came out from behind a cloud. Lilian didn’t know how she knew it, but something told her that the sky was now dark and clear enough for the light of the moon to shine down on the stony beach. It was not a full moon, probably not even half a moon but still Lilian could feel it's comforting presence like a friend smiling in a crowd. It gave her confidence to continue, and strength to try at least two or three more different techniques before calling it a night. A thought suddenly occurred to her. It was one that had crossed her mind when she started the exercise but it seemed a little too foolish to even attempt. It would take far too long and she would end up being awake all night before she could make even a little stone glow. But the moon was here now, she thought, the moon was watching and Lilian could feel its curved shape in the sky, like cradling arms. She breathed in deeply and began. It didn’t take her long to find a solitary piece of sand. There was one resting on the ring finger of her left hand. Lilian had felt it move along with her pulse like a tiny drop of oil dancing on a hot pan. She chose it and focused all of her attention on this small grain, barely large enough to be called sand, dust or grit might have been a better word. But under the watchful gaze of the moon she chose it and slowly tried to fill it with the golden light in her body. It was so small, that it could easily take a share without her heart minding. It took almost a minute but Lilian finally managed to fill it with the golden glow that shone inside her. She smiled faintly, it had been so small and ugly and while it was still very small, it was definitely not ugly. It looked like a coin in deep water. Like a torch on a dark hillside. It shone brightly against the black backdrop of silence. Lilian felt her mouth curve into the slightest of smiles.
“How are you getting on?” She heard Mr Attorcop speaking clearly but from far away.
“One grain of sand.” Lilian heard herself say. It sounded ridiculous but Lilian didn’t care, luckily, Mr Attorcop didn’t seem to care either.
“Good.” He whispered. “Now try to have that grain of sand convince the others.” In any other context this would have been a strange sentence, but to Lilian, in this moment, it made sense. Why would the other grains around her not want to shine as brightly as this one? And so Lilian watched herself slowly set it down on the ground in front her. It kept its golden glow and even managed to illuminate some of the smaller stones and grains around it, but it had not suddenly flooded them with light as Lilian had hoped. As she had feared, she would have to focus intently grain by grain, stone by stone and a rock nearby the size of her fist suddenly seemed like a mountain. Tiredness began to get the better of her. The weight of the day’s travelling was catching up and combined with the late hour it made Lilian want to just give up and go to sleep. She felt herself begin to yawn but she caught it in time and strengthened her resolve. I can do more. She thought. I’m not tired yet and the moon has come to help. I won’t disappoint it.
And so, ignoring all signs of fatigue Lilian doubled her focus on the golden grain. She tried to convince herself that the light it shone on the grains beside it was actually those grains being filled with the light itself. This tactic seemed to work for a while as Lilian was able to see the light spreading to other small flecks of dust and dirt that had previously been untouched by the glow. She continued in this way for about 5 minutes. The first two or three grains had taken a minute each but after practising on them she found that the next few took only 30 or 40 seconds to fill. This gave her confidence and after what seemed like an age but was probably only a quarter of an hour, she was sitting on a patch of ground the size of a large plate that was brimming with vibrant colour. Lilian assumed that she would just spread a golden glow, like the one inside her, but the stones and sands seemed to take on a vibrancy of their own when being focused on. At first it looked like gold, but from a distance the stones were more of a silver grey and the dust a beautiful shimmering copper.
“I think that’s enough for one night Lilian.” Mr Attorcop spoke up. Lilian heard him, but she did not want to stop. She had the energy to continue and she was just getting the hang of it.
“I can keep going.” She heard herself say.
“I’m sure you can,” Mr Attorcop replied, “But you can do that tomorrow night.” Knowing that the experience had to end Lilian made one final effort. Like when a child is told to leave the park so they rush through the last game hoping to cheat the warning parent even if it means getting in trouble. The winning or losing is of no importance, the child just wants to play no matter how clumsy the game becomes. And so Lilian became clumsy. She shoved her focus around, stumbling it into a nearby rock and shoving it through a little valley of pebbles. There was no more gentle coaxing and tempting, only inarticulate persuasion. The circle of light did increase, it now encompassed the area of a small carpet, everything becoming glittering and beautiful, shining in its own unique way. But then Lilian felt the edges of her efforts. The stones did not want this intrusion, the fire fought back and the edges of the pool of brilliance flickered and grew tired. Lilian felt a bead of sweat forming on her brow.
“That’s enough Lilian.” Mr Attorcop must have noticed her straining. “Bring your focus back to your breath and open your eyes.”
“Just a little more.” Lilian knew now that she could cover the whole beach if she was just given a bit more time.
“No, Lilian, that’s fine, we can do more tomorrow.” Lilian wanted to block out Mr Attorcop’s voice. But in the back of her mind she knew he was just being sensible. With some resignation she made one final effort, one more push in the hope of filling the beach with light. But the edges of her golden circle just kept flickering. Despite her effort, Lilian could not stretch the circle out any wider.
And then the flickering stopped. The lights at the edge of the circle went still and Lilian felt her heart skip a beat. It was as though it had missed a musical cue and was now trying to catch up. Then the lights started going out. The gold and silver glow in the sand and stone was receding but not because Lilian was choosing for it to do so. It was as though the beach was rejecting her and purging itself of her presence. The circle of light was getting smaller, slowly at first but then with increasing speed. Lilian could no longer hear her breath, she felt her heart quicken in panic as the sweat on her brow became cold. She tried to breathe in but her body was filling with something different, something other than the air it so desperately needed. It was a force, an energy. Lilian could feel it vibrating her fingers. With every inch the light retreated it was filling her up. Lilian tried to exert her will and slow it down but there was no stopping it. Faster and faster the lights went out and with each grain’s glow gone her heart and head became more swollen with their energy. It was as if she had breathed in deeply but more air was still being added. Lilian felt a pain behind her eyes, a bloating in her stomach. She didn’t like it. She wanted it to stop but she couldn’t find a way. She tried to speak but her tongue was numb and she had difficulty concentrating on the words. Then nearly all the lights were out. Lilian thought she caught a final glimpse of her first grain of sand blinking into darkness before she opened her eyes. Even though it had long burned down to embers, the brightness of the fire shocked her. She tried to breathe in but couldn’t. Her eyes darted around desperately seeking out Mr Attorcop but the light of the embers and the stars and moon all seemed too much. She did not doubt that if this had been the middle of the day, the sun would have blinded her immediately. Lilian brought her hands up to her chest and throat, hitting it and scratching and trying to communicate to Mr Attorcop that she could not breathe. Suddenly, she heard his voice, calm and calculated as ever, coming from beside her.
“No need to panic Lilian. Just stand up.” His tone reassured her and Lilian scrambled to her feet listening out for further instruction.
“Now face the water.” Lilian turned and almost shaded her eyes from the moon’s reflection on the still surface of the lake. Her heart was racing now as shock began to set in.
“Now do exactly as I say.” Mr Attorcop’s voice was raised slightly and Lilian realised he was some distance behind her. Was he leaving her? Was he running away? She felt herself reaching out behind her and opening her hand in a plea for comfort and safety. But she listened when he spoke again.
“I want you to imagine that this entire time you’ve been holding in a shout. Think about how loud and big that cry would be. Focus on what your body would do to release such a shout and when you’re ready, I want you to scream at the lake. Your biggest loudest scream.” Lilian’s mind raced to understand. She quickly began thinking about her breath and how filled with air and energy she felt. She tried as calmly as possible to imagine she had just breathed in a great volume of air and was now holding it in preparation to shout out. She tensed her stomach muscles, brought her hands up in front of her and gripped them into tight fists while leaning her head back. She was ready. In one sharp motion she brought her fists down and used the momentum to thrust her head forward. At the same time she let out a cry, a bellowing shout that after leaving her throat sounded nothing like she’d ever spoken before. It was her voice but it was deeper and stronger and filled with power. It sounded like the first part of a laugh, a ‘HA’ but not breathy or cheerful. After it left her mouth she felt better but still confused. She could have sworn she watched the water move. As if an invisible boulder rolled quickly across its surface, parting the water and making a shallow valley in the lake for just an instant before the water reformed and became choppy with the disturbance. After another second the surface of the lake became agitated. The small waves gave way to a vibration on the surface as if it was boiling. Lilian thought of a metal bowl filled with water being struck and the water dancing with the sound it made. She even thought she could hear a low tone. But by this point her vision was growing dark and she didn’t quite believe what she saw. She was surely part way into a dream as her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. The surface of the lake couldn’t vibrate, she thought as she closed her eyes, not across the entire body of water.
Lilian awoke the next day to the sound of bird song coming from the low brush beyond the shore. She opened her eyes slowly squinting in the bright sunlight. The first things she saw were the large cat-like eyes of her familiar furry friend Fritha. Lilian felt her hot breath moving her hair as she sniffed her face. Lilian tried to smile but as soon as she moved her head searing pain shot through her. Her mouth was dry and opening her eyes to any more than a squint caused her head to hurt even more. Lilian wanted nothing more than to pull her blanket closer, roll over and go back to sleep, but Fritha’s tongue simultaneously course and wet licked her cheek. Lilian groaned and took the hint. She gently pushed Fritha’s big head to one side and hefted herself up to a seated position. Her head pounded and she quickly brought her hand up to block out the dancing lights of the sun’s reflection on the water.
“Good morning.” Mr Attorcop was bending over a small pot suspended over the re-lit fire. A bitter smelling substance bubbled away inside it. Lilian mumbled a greeting and absent mindedly stroked Fritha’s purple fur.
“Let me guess. A heavy head, dry mouth and soreness behind the eyes.” Lilian nodded, not bothering to ask how he knew. Mr Attorcop’s face was stern as he decanted the liquid into a mug and handed it to Lilian. She took it and pushed Fritha’s curious head out of the way as she brought it up to her nose to smell it. Lilian almost wretched. The liquid was thick and smelled of eggs.
“Drink it.” Said Mr Attorcop, returning to the log he had been sitting on, “It will make you feel better.” Lilian couldn’t even muster the strength to protest. Months of knowing Mr Attorcop meant that Lilian knew that it wouldn’t have helped much anyway. She brought the cup slowly up to her lips, held her breath and drank. Thankfully, it tasted better than it smelt and Lilian was able to finish the mug in just a few large gulps. After sitting still and focusing on keeping the drink in her stomach for a few minutes, Lilian finally managed to speak.
“What’s wrong with me.” Mr Attorcop laughed.
“Ha, where do I start. You’re stubborn, overly ambitious and you’re terrible at obeying instructions from those who know better.”
“No.” Grimaced Lilian, “I mean… now.”
“You over exerted yourself. I told you to reign it in slowly but you of course tested my instructions and went beyond your capability. Remember what I said that first day I showed you the lunar essence? All power comes at a price. Last night I wanted you to go for a short walk, but instead you ran up a mountain. Now instead of practising again today you’re going to have to spend time recovering.” Mr Attorcop let out a deep sigh. “I suppose it was going to happen sooner or later. Best you find out in the early days. Pushing yourself like that takes its toll.” Lilian’s head was still pounding but she could now open her eyes fully, whatever Mr Attorcop had given her seemed to be working.
“How do I stop this from happening again.” Mr Attorcop stoked the fire and Fritha wandered over to the water to see if she could catch any fish.
“Last night, when you turned your focus to your own heart and body, what did it look like?” Lilian groggily explained the golden glow she saw and how she managed to put some into the grain of sand on her finger. Mr Attorcop nodded in understanding.
“So when the grain took on the quality of your golden light, did it do that because you forced it?” Lilian thought for a second,
“No.” She replied. “It was more like I convinced it, or I dunno, persuaded it.”
“And after it was persuaded it took on the light easily?” Lilian nodded. “And after I told you to stop, did you then persuade more rocks or did you force them to take on the light?” Lilian didn’t answer. She felt ashamed and knew that Mr Attorcop already knew the answer. The silence hung in the air a while, occasionally interrupted by Fritha splashing about in the lake.
“I don’t understand.” Said Lilian after some time, “If I wanted to fill every rock on this beach, that would take days.” Mr Attorcop furrowed his brow.
“Who said you had to fill every rock on this beach?” Lilian shrugged.
“No one. It’s just an example.”
“It’s all just practise Lilian.” Mr Attorcop stood up as he spoke, moving to get some food from his pack. “In a few years you might be able to fill the beach, but for now you should be content with a few grains of sand.” Suddenly, a thought struck Lilian.
“Once I know how to fill a few rocks with the light, what do I do then? How does that become useful?” Mr Attorcop smiled and bent down by the lake to fill his water skin.
“Where does this intelligence go when practising? Well, when filling things with our own essence they become aware of us and our own life force mixes with theirs. We give a bit of ourselves and when we’re ready we take back our essence, only now it’s mixed with a bit of what it had just filled.” Lilian thought about this.
“So when I took the light back, I got some rock and sand essence back with it?”
“Sort of. At least, that’s how it was described to me and it seems to make the most sense. We certainly feel more powerful when we bring our essence back into us. Last night you over exerted yourself and you took back more than you could handle. Like filling a water skin to the brim and then filling it some more. You’re paying for that this morning.” He made a show of lightly squeezing the water skin until some water bubbled out of the top. Lilian looked down at the rocks and dust around her. So much power from such still and dull things.
“Yes Lilian,” Said Mr Attorcop, following her gaze. “All of that from just a few rocks. Now you understand why we started here. Imagine doing that for the first time in a field of flowers or a town full of people?” He squeezed his water skin quickly and tightly and Lilian watched a jet of white water explode from the top. She shuddered. Mr Attorcop nodded gravely.
“Once we know how to give and take back safely we can convert the power from the natural world in to… well, that’s another lesson. I don’t want you getting ahead of yourself.”
For the next few hours the trio did very little. Mr Attorcop caught some fish and seasoned them with some herbs he picked from the shallow waters before cooking them over the fire. Fritha looked on expectantly, licking her lips every so often in anticipation. Lilian’s appetite slowly returned and although her head still ached, she enjoyed the fresh fish and bread. No one had said anything for quite some time. The water lapped at the stones, small birds flitted around the reeds and Lilian was thankful for the peace and quiet. She knew they would have to continue their journey this afternoon, but for now she closed her eyes and enjoyed the heat of the sun on her face. Fritha, her coat mirroring the dappled blue and white of the water, came to join Lilian and sat down beside her, leaning her heavy weight against Lilian’s left arm. Lilian breathed in a deep and pleasant breath. Then it came to her, the name she had been searching for in the back of her head all this time. They would no longer be referring to this process as ‘magic’, for just then the perfect term popped into her mind as if it had always been there but had been slightly obscured by the worries and cares of everyday life. With calm confidence, she spoke the name and for a second the world was still.
“Gloaming.”
Benlunar - Episode 17
Leaving Hundsberg.
The Roads of Alicium run through it like veins
From small paths down mountains to city built lanes
They’ll guide you home or take you away
Or make you visit village that begs you to stay
Up through the pass, down through the grass
Stick to your map, veer not from the path
Or perhaps take an unfamiliar bend
After all, the aim of the song is the tune not the end
A jolt of pain shot out from Lilian’s neck as she was pulled backwards. She breathed in a large gulp of air in shock as her head was jerked back, the hand over her mouth smelled of earth and animal. Her instinct was to struggle, but whoever held her was strong and had a firm grip. The sound of the rain drowned out her panicked footsteps and the other people on the deck where she had been standing, all had their hoods up and so had not noticed her being dragged away. Her heart was beating quickly and she tried to shove her left elbow into her assailant’s solar plexus, that weak spot below the centre of the ribcage which, when struck, knocks the air from your lungs. She felt her elbow connect and she heard a sickened grunt but the hit just seemed to strengthen her attacker’s resolve and their grip tightened on her face and body.
Mr Attorcop was scanning the crowd to see if he could find Lilian. The rain had made everyone put their damn hoods up so he had to shift and turn to peer into each one as he passed. He worried that the man who’d given him the red dog and the dark green cloak was going to realise what he was doing, but he had to risk it, Lilian’s safety was his priority, the rest would take care of itself. The dog was playing its part brilliantly. Mr Attorcop guessed that it had been trained to follow various masters. He pushed his way through the crowd checking hoods as he went and when he reached the stage he looked up and made eye-contact with Zinnia. She was standing heads and shoulders above the other townsfolk. Her dog Otto was sitting by her side, a thin line of drool falling from his jowls onto the wooden platform they were standing on. Zinnia continued to address the crowd in her native language. Mr Attorcop crossed his fingers and prayed to several gods that she had found the note he had hidden for her earlier that day. He had had to write quickly and mainly rely on guesswork, but his intuitions had been mostly correct. The one contingent he had not forseen had been the man’s eagerness to use Lilian as collateral, hence his current desire to check on her safety. Her absence from the crowd was not a good sign. But Zinnia’s lingering eye-contact was and Mr Attorcop took it as confirmation that the note with his instructions had been found. And so he leapt into action. He jumped onto the platform and drew the blade he had been given. He made sure not to turn around and show his face to the crowd whilst still letting them see the knife. He was happy to hear a loud gasp coming from the people in the square. Dogs began to bark and people shouted at him to stop, but Mr Attorcop was already mid swing. The knife rushed up towards Zinnia’s chest but she was ready for it. Her leather braced forearms came down to meet his wrist and the blow was believably blocked. Otto was being distracted by the red dog so that he could not interfere with Mr Attorcop’s plan. He brought the knife back and twisted round for another attack, he made sure not to do any feints or illusions as he would normally in a fight such as this, it had to look believable but not genuinely dangerous. It was a tough balance but Zinnia played her part to perfection. After blocking his second attack she even let herself be hit by Mr Attorcop’s left hook. This put the crowd into a panic and several people started clambering up onto the platform in the hopes of putting a stop to the fight. Mr Attorcop took the opportunity of turning and kicking them off to glance into the crowd once more in order to check for Lilian, finally, after the third cloaked figure was pushed off into a puddle on the increasingly wet floor, he saw her. She was struggling in the shadows of an awning, a man’s hand was gripping her mouth and for a split second he worried, but then saw something that convinced that she would be safe.
Lilian, for her part, did not feel safe. She had seen how the crowd had become distracted and saw quick flashes of movement coming from the stage. She heard dogs barking and people shouting and felt herself beginning to panic. This sensation triggered her training and she quickly realised that panicking was not going to help her. She needed to regain control and pick what aspects of the situation she wanted to use. She took a second to take a deep breath and assess her surrounding. Struggling against the grip had proved useless, but if her attacker had wanted her dead she would have felt a blade in her back by now. She decided to spend her energy on figuring out why this was the case. Instead of struggling to free herself she relaxed her body and tried to twist her head to get a look at her attacker’s free arm. It took some doing but by bringing her chin to her chest and looking down to her left she was able to catch a glimpse as to what was happening to her side. It seemed that her attacker had more to contend with than just Lilian struggling against his grip. The first thing she saw was the knife, clean and short, the kind you might find in a workshop or building site. Next she saw Fritha’s large cat-like eyes, despite the dim light of the evening they shone like candle flames and Lilian could have sworn they were illuminating the hand that was holding the knife. The same hand that Fritha’s large teeth were currently buried in. Lilian saw blood trickling down the wrist and into the attacker’s sleeve. It was a marvel that they had not cried out in pain this whole time. Fritha was growling in her low clunking way, sounding like a stick being dragged along a metal gate. Her coat was dark and purple making her body blend into the shadows that surrounded her. Only her eyes were clearly visible and they continued to burn brightly. Lilian was tracking their movement and waiting for an opportunity. When she saw Fritha yank her head back in a particularly vicious attempt to get the knife away, Lilian saw her opportunity. She felt her attacker’s balance shift and she forced her weight round so as to push them off balance even further. She felt their step move to compensate and she took advantage of their distraction. Lilian rammed her right elbow into their ribs and forced herself under the arm that held her. Instead of kicking and running however she span round and used the momentum of the spin to bring her right fist quickly up and into her attacker’s chin. Lilian managed to see Bardat’s eyes widen in surprise just before her knuckles connected with his jaw. The speed of the punch had been enough to disorientate him and a final pull from Fritha dragged him to the ground with a heavy thud. He dropped the knife as he fell and Lilian kicked it away. A young man who was standing on the deck looked down as the handle hit his boot. This was enough for him to catch the commotion out of the corner of his eye and he tapped his friend on the shoulder and shouted something in his native language. They pulled Lilian away and held Bardat on the floor with his arm twisted behind his back. Lilian saw that Bardat’s dog had been sitting a few feet away, confused and shaking not wanting his master hurt, but never hearing the order to defend him. Lilian didn’t struggle against the men who pulled her away from him, she knew they would understand once everything had been explained. Instead she called Fritha to her side and looked up to see if she could see the stage. She was taken aback by what she found. The man with the red dog was standing on the stage, frozen in place with a knife to Zinnia’s throat. Zinnia was not moving and it seemed as though he might drag his knife across her throat at any second. But no such thing happened. The people in the crowd were scared to approach any further, worried that the desperate man would do something drastic if they moved too quickly or unpredictably. To Lilian’s amazement the man turned to look at the crowd and she saw Mr Attorcop’s familiar face beneath the hood. Had he betrayed her, she wondered? Had he finally succumbed to madness? And why wasn’t he moving? His eyes seemed to be scanning the crowd as if looking for some reason to cut Zinnia’s throat. Lilian looked at Zinnia’s face and found it to be strangely calm. She too was looking into the crowd, rather than directly at her attacker. Lilian followed their gaze across the sea of confused and scared townsfolk. Her eye was drawn to a commotion at the back of the square. Three men and their dogs were struggling to subdue a fourth man. In the commotion his hood and mask slipped off to reveal a sharp, angular face that Lilian did not recognise. But his eyes, they were familiar. They were the eyes she had seen several nights ago when she had fought him and the red dog in the alleyway. She had assumed that Mr Attorcop had been that man because the dog had been following him, could dogs be trained to follow other masters? Other people were now turning to watch the struggle. The man began to shout in protest, Lilian couldn’t understand his words but they did not seem kind. He flailed and punched wildly trying to escape but one of the men held his cloak in a tight grip and had instructed his black and white dog to do the same. Distracted, the man did not see a leather gloved fist from one his attackers swing round and it connected with his cheek knocking him into a daze. The man struggled to find his balance and his three attackers took the opportunity to twist his arms behind his back and tie his wrists together with rope. The crowd gasped as a long knife was taken from the man’s belt. Lilian turned back to the stage, Mr Attorcop had dropped his knife and was standing behind Zinnia. Once the man had been secured Zinnia spoke up, this time Lilian could understand her.
“I’m sorry everyone for the confusion. This attack on my life was planned by this man.” She gestured over the crowd to the man that had just been captured.
“Our dear friend here,” Zinnia continued, turning back to Mr Attorcop, “Warned me that something would happen today. So when he attacked I knew I had to play along. Meanwhile we’ve managed to capture the one responsible for those hateful messages and before he could do any real damage.” At this point, Lilian spoke up.
“He wasn’t alone!” She cried out. Many people turned to look at her and she drew their attention to Bardat who was still struggling against the strength of his captors, one of which brandished his knife in the air. Mr Attorcop’s voice pierced the growing murmurs.
“I believe there were probably others. It seems to me as though Hundsberg has things to discuss and changes to make. For now, please all go about your business.” It seemed as though he was about to say more when a shout came from the captured man at the back of the crowd. He’d used the distraction to shove one of the guards aside and break free. His arms were still tied so he had difficulty balancing as he stepped back.
“You’re all making a mistake. I love this town and I will do whatever it takes to save it. She is going to suffocate us.” Lilian saw tears streaming down his eyes. He almost tripped whilst backing away and caught himself in time to turn on his heal and begin to run. His dog, loyal to the end, distracted the guards by biting one of them on the leg. The man was not 5 seconds gone however when a bolt of brown fur flew from the crowd, jumped up and knocked him down to the ground. Leonardo’s jaws were poised over the man’s throat awaiting the order from Stephanie who was walking calmly out of the audience. Lilian watched the man shake with fear as Stephanie approached, moved Leonardo aside and hoisted the man to his feet in one swift motion. The crowd were dispersing slowly and she frog marched the sharp faced man to the stage where Zinnia and Mr Attorcop were still standing.
“Take him to the Kreis Hutte, and tie him up.” Zinnia spoke in a low and serious tone. Stephanie set off with the three guards following closely behind. Bardat was taken too and Lilian breathed a sigh of relief now that the ordeal was over. She looked back at Mr Attorcop who seemed distracted. His attention had been taken from the sharp faced man and was being directed to the red dog that he’d left behind. Lilian almost laughed, imagining what might be going through his head. She knew him well enough by now to know that another mouth to feed was not something he would welcome happily. Lilian approached the stage with Fritha by her side. She noticed that the red dog was staring intently into the dispersing crowd. A man in an old soldier's jacket was standing still, the only one in the crowd not currently leaving the square. He was looking at the red dog still stood placidly next to Mr Attorcop. Lilian couldn’t discern the look on his face but she noticed that he had no dog by his side. The man’s eyes glistened beneath his hood. He crouched down and began beckoning the red dog to him. It did not move. It looked at him and then looked away.
“She won’t come.” Mr Attorcop spoke loudly over the rain. The old soldier stood up.
“She’s my dog. Her name is Cleo.” Mr Attorcop narrowed his eyes and stepped off the wooden stage. The dog remained.
“She won’t come, Siegfried.” The old soldier’s fist began to clench and shake.
“She is my dog and I want her home now.” Mr Attorcop lowered his voice and stood very close to him.
“You can shout and scream all you like. But you betrayed her and she will never forgive you. You don’t deserve her.” With that he walked past the soldier, raised his left hand and clicked his fingers. Cleo the red dog sprang forward and leapt off the stage and ran to Mr Attorcop’s side without giving Siegfried a second glance.
Later, in Hunderberg’s central hut Lilian sat on a wooden stool with Fritha by her side watching the deliberations. She discovered that the sharp faced man who had attacked her several nights ago was called Milian. He had been a scout like Stephanie and Bardat but had disappeared months ago. The prevailing thought was that he had left the village or died out in the woods but Mr Attorcop explained how he must have been living under the old grave site since then. Guards were dispatched to retrieve the dogs from their cages there.
“You see, most people in Hundsberg wonder about with hoods and masks covering their faces,” Mr Attorcop was stood by the fire explaining his theories to the small crowd gathered in the hut. “This helps to protect you from the rain and wind isn’t a problem when everyone in town knows everyone else by their dog. Using various different dogs Mr Milian here was able to come in and out of town with his face masked but still disguised.” The small crowd murmured and nodded in understanding. Milian himself was close by, kneeling on the wooden floor and flanked by two burly looking guards and their large black and brown dogs. An elderly woman spoke up, Lilian recognised her as the woman who had given her the sour berry a few days ago which Fritha seemed to love so much. As an elder of Hundsberg she clearly held a position of respect in the community. Her voice was low and soft.
“Woher hat er die hunde?” Mr Attorcop looked at Zinnia for a translation.
“Where did he get the dogs?” She asked.
“Ah. Well it’s not uncommon to see people in Hundsberg without a dog, albeit a little strange. I believe that he managed to convince others of his cause and persuaded them to let him use their dogs in return for some reward.” At this, Bardat, who was similarly tied and guarded spoke up.
“There was no reward. Only the promise of actual change.” His mask had been taken off and Lilian saw his youthful face was red with anger. Zinnia’s eyes narrowed at the comment. She breathed deeply and a silence fell upon the room. Lilian’s head was spinning with information and she felt that she could no longer hold her tongue.
“Ms Zinnia.” She said softly. Zinnia looked up at her along with everyone else in the room, even a few of the dogs turned their heads. Lilian took their silence as permission to speak.
“I don’t want to overstep my welcome, I know my uncle and I are outsiders here. But I don’t think that everyone that Milian had helping him, knew what he was planning to do. The people of Hunderberg clearly respect you a lot but…” Lilian was having trouble choosing her words properly. Zinnia gestured for her to continue.
“It’s okay Amilia. I’m a grown woman, you will not hurt my feelings.” A few people in the crowd smiled. Lilian appreciated the comment, but nevertheless was finding it hard to say what she wanted. Suddenly, she felt a warmth and feeling of comfort overcome her, it gave her the confidence she needed to speak clearly.
“I think there are a lot of people who see Hundsberg’s potential.” Lilian caught Stephanie’s eyes and she smiled. “I think people see the quality of your food, of the things you make of the skills you have and they think, you know, why aren’t we sharing this with the world? I think they feel like Hundsberg is scared to change and they are scared that Hundsberg is suffering.” At this, an older man sat on Zinnia’s left side spoke.
“These young people don’t understand. I was a boy when the red plague was killing thousands, I saw the outside world ravaged by war and by the greed of the expanding empire. Through all of this, Hundsberg has been safe and untouched. Yes, now we have relative peace in Alicium but what if another war breaks out? Hm? One raid and Hundsberg is wiped out!” There were murmurs of agreement, mainly from the older folk in the room. Zinnia stayed silent. Stephanie rolled her eyes and stood up.
“You think we are not in danger just because we stay hidden in the forest? Look at what has happened today!” She raised her voice and an excited Leonardo began to bark. Stephanie calmed him by sitting back down and scratching his ears.
“We cannot escape danger as a community no matter what choices we make. I think there must be ways that we can slowly introduce change and see how it goes. No one is forcing everyone in Hundsberg to leave their homes tonight.” Zinnia unfolded her arms.
“What do you suggest?” At this Stephanie shook her head and looked back at Lilian. Lilian was equally unsure.
“I have a few ideas.” said Mr Attorcop. All eyes turned back to him, he was sitting on a bench with the red dog by his feet. Lilian was enjoying this new found forced friendship. It certainly made everything Mr Attorcop did, a little less serious.
“My niece and I passed an inn before entering the forest. Many people stop there before journeying through the valley or into the hills. It also crosses a road that leads to Freedos. I suggest taking some of the fine pelts and leather goods you make here and selling them at the crossroads. You could probably also sell the sweet drink you make to the inn for extra income. I say you use the money to buy a cart and start trading to the surrounding area. There will always be dangers on the road and there are whispers of a renewed conflict with Doma but I’ve seen how competently Hundsberg scouts can fight, I shouldn’t think you need to worry.” Stephanie was beaming at the suggestions.
“Yes! And then next year we can build something nearer the road so we don’t have to travel too far to trade.”
“And if that works,” added Lilian, “people might slowly start living there and that could be a second Hundsberg, or even a new town entirely.” The expressions around the room betrayed a multitude of reactions. Some faces were worried, others were hopeful. A couple were angry but only Zinnia’s face was calm and collected. She looked over to the guards and spoke a sharp sentence in her native tongue. Milian and Bardat were hoisted to their feet and marched out of the hut, presumably to be locked away until their fate was decided. Zinnia turned to the assembly.
“When you and your uncle arrived here with Fritha the Angsthund, I knew there would be changes to come.” Lilian felt nervous to be addressed in front of all these people, as if the fate of Hundsberg was resting on her shoulders, “Change is like a river.” Zinnia continued, “You cannot stop it from flowing, but with some effort you can direct where it goes. I like this idea of trading on the main road. We will gather our best goods and start next week. But we focus on fixing the problems we have in Hundsberg before building anything new.” Lilian looked around the room. Stephanie was smiling and excitedly looking at her friends. Several of the older folk were scowling but Lilian was beginning to understand their trepidations. She thought about Benlunar and the amount of worry there must have been when they decided to allow tourists to visit. Occasionally they do cause trouble, but she didn’t think anyone would admit to it being a bad decision these days. A few people got up and slowly people started leaving. Elders would clasp Zinnia’s hands and whisper warnings or good wishes. Stephanie stood up and hugged Lilian.
“Thank you for speaking and for saying what you did. Were you nervous?” She asked.
“At first.” Replied Lilian.
“But then let me guess. You became relaxed and it didn’t seem too bad.” Lilian was taken aback.
“Well. Yes, sort of. How did you…”
“I was watching you.” Said Stephanie with a cheeky grin. “When you began to speak your hand reached out. Have you not noticed what’s happening?” Her eyes darted down to Lilian’s side. Lilian looked and found the source of the warmth she had been experiencing. Absentmindedly, her hand was resting on the side of Fritha’s neck. Her fur was soft and reassuring. Lilian was surprised. She must have been stroking her for some time now, and Fritha was sat still and serene her eyes closed seemingly enjoying the sensation. Each time Lilian caressed her fur it would leave a glowing orange patch, which shone against the deep purple colouring Fritha was currently wearing. Lilian smiled and looked back at Stephanie.
“I think you have a friend for life here now Amelia.”
“Are you talking about you or Fritha?” Said Lilian. Stephanie laughed.
“Both! Of course.”
Lilian and Mr Attorcop left Hundsberg the following day. Tears were shed and promises were made and gifts of food, drink and clothes were given to aid the pair in their travels. Lilian was given new smocks and shoes, all of the finest Hundsberg quality. Stephanie even Gave Lilian a large bag of the sour berries so that her training with Fritha could continue. Lilian thought she would see Fritha’s jaw drop when the bag was handed over. Her nose twitched something silly and her eyes were as wide as dinner plates.
“Please visit us when you come back through the forest.” Stephanie’s voice was muffled by Lilian’s hair as she hugged her tightly.
“Of course!” Replied Lilian. “And good luck with the new ventures, I can’t wait to see how Hundsberg changes in the next few weeks.” Lilian shook Zinnia’s hand and ruffled the ears of all the dogs she could see. Leonardo of course got some extra attention, but no so much as to make Fritha jealous. Mr Attorcop was a short distance away kneeling by a young boy. He was gesturing to the red dog that had not left his side for nearly 12 hours. The boys mother and father were looking on with quaint smiles as the young boy took the red dogs lead and fed him a treat. He turned back to his parents with a smile so wide Lilian thought his face must ache from it. Mr Attorcop approached her, his pack was heavy and he wore his new leather boots and a new blue shirt with white flowers sewn into the collar. He gestured towards the forest.
“Shall we Amelia?”
“You didn’t want to keep her?” Asked Lilian, teasing him.
“I think one hungry red haired lady per travelling party is quite enough.” He replied with a wry smile. Lilian feigned outrage as the two walked over the mud ridge, turning back occasionally to wave goodbye to the curious little town and its canine keeping kin. Lilian was sad to leave but delighted to have been shown the skills necessary to understand her own animal companion. Fritha sensed the move and rushed ahead excitedly displaying green and orange colours with each new smell she discovered. Lilian and Mr Attorcop spoke of their experiences. Mr Attorcop told her more details about Milian’s tomb base and the poor dogs he kept locked up there. He explained how he had left Zinnia a note hidden in Otto’s collar so that only she might find it.
“I knew he was going to want to try something drastic. He wouldn’t have trusted a stranger with anything he knew he could already achieve. He may have started with just writing on walls but I think Zinnia’s death had always been his goal.”
“But she’s an elected leader, wouldn’t her death have just put someone else in charge?” Asked Lillian as she avoided thick tree roots.
“Once people like Milian get an idea into their head, reason is the first thing to leave it. I led him to believe I sympathised with his cause because I wanted him to trust me with something dangerous. If he had been left alone he might have really hurt someone.”
“What would you have done if he hadn’t asked you to kill Zinnia?” Mr Attorcop paused for thought.
“I would have alerted the guards in the crowd. After ensuring your safety. Your inclusion in his plans was one thing I stupidly overlooked. But once I reached the stage and found you in the crowd I knew you would be safe.” Lilian remember how scared she had been with Bardat’s hand covering her mouth as she panicked.
“How could you know though? I didn’t know.” Mr Attorcop smiled and pointed to Fritha.
“I saw her standing behind you with that fellow’s hand in her mouth. She saved you that night in the alley and she was saving you then. I don’t know what she sees in you but I knew she wouldn’t let you come to harm. Besides, I’m an excellent instructor of the combative arts, I believed in my student.” Lilian felt a sense of pride. She had not received Mr Attorcop’s approval since the night she was attacked by Milian in the alley and she admitted to herself that she had missed it. No more reckless mistakes, she thought.
“There was one thing I have been meaning to discuss with you.” Lilian looked up at Mr Attorcop. “The night you went to catch Milian. You said you’d heard him whilst practising your focus exercise. Could you describe what happened exactly?” Lilian remembered the event vividly. She described to him how she had felt as though she was travelling through Hundsberg, how sounds as small as a mouse’s step became as vivid as images on canvas. It was hard to put into words as she could not sense colour or shape, but nonetheless she could explore Hundsberg without leaving the fireside. Mr Attorcop listened intently while they walked, asking few questions until he said,
“How far do you think you explored?” Lilian thought for a minute.
“I’m not really sure. But I could hear Milian’s paint can and I must have walked 10 minutes before I found him.”
“Was it different to other times you’ve practised your focusing?” This question was easier.
“Definitely,” She said.
“How?”
“Well, everything just seemed more vivid, like I was next to the sound, rather than just hearing it from far away.” Mr Attorcop nodded his head.
“Excellent.” He said, “From now on we practise focusing twice then. Once in the morning after breakfast, and again in the evening before sleep. All this on top of our regular defense and attack training as well as your new play sessions with Fritha.” Lilian cocked her head in a question.
“You’ll need to keep up what you learned in Hundsberg or Fritha will just go back to wondering aimlessly around us and all your progress will be lost.” Fritha was currently padding obediently beside Lilian and turned her head with each mention of her name. Lilian smiled and reached out to touch the back of her neck. Her fur was slick and a deep green colour. Lilian was pleased to hear that Mr Attorcop was taking their relationship more seriously and Lilian was glad to dedicate time each day to playing with and teaching her animal companion.
And so the journey continued. Each day they stuck to a rigorous routine of training that involved focus practise, fighting and playing. All of the new activities meant that travel time was limited but Lilian noticed that this didn’t seem to bother Mr Attorcop. He was content to take his time if it meant that training was going well. He was pleased with Lilian’s progress and by the end of their 2nd week on the road, he finally said the sentence Lilian didn’t even know she had been waiting all this time to hear.
“Right,” He said, “I think it’s about time I taught you some magic.”
Benlunar - Episode 16
A dog amongst pigeons.
The Roads of Alicium run through it like veins
From small paths down mountains to city built lanes
They’ll guide you home or take you away
Or make you visit village that begs you to stay
Up through the pass, down through the grass
Stick to your map, veer not from the path
Or perhaps take an unfamiliar bend
After all, the aim of the song is the tune not the end
Lilian was thoroughly enjoying her time in Hundsberg, the town in the woods where everyone kept a canine counterpart. She had spent nearly a week there, learning about its history and people and getting instruction from her friend Stephanie about how best to train Fritha, the Feinhound which to these people was an animal straight out of legend. She had become so accustomed to her false name ‘Amelia’ that she responded to it as quickly as Fritha did to one of her sour treats. She enjoyed observing the unique relationship each resident of Hundsberg had with their dog. Each dog seemed to be perfectly paired with its owner so as to serve some use in the town. Large dogs for example were paired with large and strong townsfolk who might have to pull carts or lift large bags of grain as part of their work. Smaller, more agile dogs were trained by their owners to hunt out mushrooms underground or even sniff out stolen goods or lost children. Stephanie and Leonardo were scouts, it was their job to act as a wall between Hundsberg and the rest of the world. They would keep an eye and nose out for intruders and patrol roads and countryside to dissuade travellers from getting too close. Lilian marvelled at the speed at which Leonardo would respond to Stephanie’s slightest signal. Her admiration, however, one day gave way to misgiving. She wondered if Leonardo was happy to constantly be obeying orders.
“What do you mean?” Asked Stephanie as she rubbed her stout pup on the belly. It was another sunny Summer’s day and they were out in the woods, training Fritha to find a hessian bag filled with lavender and herbs. They had hidden it in a particularly tough spot up a tree and Lilian was enjoying watching Fritha sniff around the forest floor.
“I mean, do you ever wonder if the dogs would be better off just being free to do as they pleased?” Stephanie laughed at this.
“Sometimes, but then I remember what this would mean in reality.”
“How so?” Asked Lilian as she watched Fritha find the base of the right tree but not yet figure out that she had to look up.
“Well, think about this. In just a few weeks his nails would grow too long for him to be able to walk easily. This mean he would have trouble hunting. Also, his teeth would get dirty if I didn’t clean them and so they might fall out. His hair would get matted if I did not cut it and this could infect his skin. I take care of him like he takes care of me. And as for the training…” She thought for a second gazing lovingly at her big browed brute, “If I did not train him he would always be fighting with other dogs, he would be a teenager without ever knowing that someone loved him enough to teach him how to be good. He would fight, he would test, he would get angry and he would get hurt. Do you hate your parents for teaching you to be kind and polite?” Lilian shook her head. “Well, then I don’t think he hates me for teaching him to be a good boy. And you are a good boy aren’t you Leonardo?” The dog barked a sharp and clear affirmation. Stephanie laughed.
“He is always surprising me with his kindness and humour.” Lilian had felt similar things about Fritha this past week, and wondered if they would ever have a relationship akin to that of Stephanie’s and Leonardo’s. Fritha had climbed on her hind legs and easily reached the hidden bag and was bringing it swiftly back to Lilian. This was met with much praise and a sour berry as a reward. Several happy chiming sounds came from Fritha as she munched the fruit.
“Ok,” Said Stephanie, “Now we hide it somewhere really hard!” Lilian looked around the woods for inspiration, clutching the sweet smelling bag after Fritha had dropped it at her feet. It was covered in sticky slobber and wet leaves but she didn’t mind, she was enjoying the game and wanted to put Frithas nose to the test. Just then, she spied a figure walking towards them through the trees. They were wearing a dark cloak and had a bald head.
“Isn’t that your uncle?” Said Stephanie, narrowing her eyes to see clearer. As the man approached, Lilian saw that it was indeed Mr Attorcop, who was posing her uncle while they were in Hundsberg. He When he was not too far away, he looked up and seemed surprised to see them. Lilian waved.
“Are you alright uncle?” She raised her voice to cover the distance.
“Oh yes,” He replied, “Just walking through the forest to gather my thoughts, beautiful day. Stephanie smile in reply but Lilian was confused. In the many months she’d known him this might have been the first time she heard Mr Attorcop comment on the weather. It was almost like he was a normal person. Or, she thought, doing his best imitation of a person who wanted to appear normal. They watched as he walked past them, not stopping to chat just walking straight ahead, deeper into the forest in a reassuringly strange fashion. The two young women stared at him as he went, striding confidently towards nothing in particular. Stephanie lowered her voice.
“Your uncle is a quite a bizarre man I think.” Lilian looked up at her.
“You have no idea.”
Of course Mr Attorcop had his own plan as to why he was walking through the woods that day, and he wasn’t about to waylaid by dog training sessions and he didn’t want to interrupt Lilian’s progress with that great shimmering beast. As he strode past them, he looked back down at the note in his left hand to double check he was following the instructions he had been given. The handwriting was very poor so twice now he had to hold the note up to the light to see if he did indeed need to be heading west, or was it east? No, no. Definitely west, even though no one in their right minds should be writing instructions down when their handwriting is this bad. West then, for nearly an hour, the right at the great oak and on until the, what is that word? Hillan mound? No. Hidden. Hidden mound.
“Very well.” Cromwell breathed out and strode forth. He tapped the vials of essence in his sleeve, just to make doubly sure they were still there. Over the years, this had become a force of habit but he was always glad when he found the Kerakis glass hidden in the folds of his cloak. He reminded himself that once all this wall writing nonsense was over he needed to get back to training Lilian. The mystery was however providing an amusing distraction while she got that strange creature under control. As his mind drifted to other projects and goals further down the line, he kicked conkers out of his path and admired the ancient trees around him. The forest was thick in this direction and several times he had to slow his pace to deal with obstructing vines and hedges. At one point, he got so frustrated with being tangled in sticky vines that he considered using the lunar blade but he concluded that it might be a little excessive. After some time he found what was unmistakably at the ‘great oak’ from the note. A beautiful old tree with a trunk lined and cracked from weathering the ages. Its branches reached up towards the forest canopy in a battle to beat younger trees to the sun and sky, frozen in time. He stopped and gazed at the oak for a while, wishing it all the best in its struggle. One last push, he thought. Then he turned and continued to follow the instructions until the ‘hidden mound’ made itself known. In the distance, he saw a swelling in the earth that wasn’t connected to any other hill or rock formation, it seemed to stick out of the ground like a bunion. It was not tall, the top reaching Cromwell chest. He thought it must be some sort of old burial mound, this would make sense considering its placement within the circle of trees. There was no stone to mark who was buried there, but it was possible that it would have been worn away many years ago. He walked around it twice and looked about to see if anyone had followed him or was observing from a distance. But there was no one. On his third pass around he noticed a dark patch in the leaves at the north facing base of the mound. Upon closer inspection, the discoloration was caused by a small, dark hole that had been crudely covered up by layers of leaves. He brushed a few aside and called out.
“Hello?” There was no answer, but he could tell by the quality of sound that the hole led into a larger area, under the mound. He briefly considered sticking his head inside it but then remembered that he was dealing with a population enamored with dogs and didn’t fancy getting his nose bitten off. He was sure that he had found the right place so he sat on the driest pile of leaves he could find and listened to the forest. He thought about returning to Freedos and a familiar feeling of anxiety filled his stomach. He had enjoyed his time away immensely but even he admitted that he had been putting off the inevitable for a little too long. Suddenly, he heard footsteps in the distance and opened his eyes to see who was joining him. As suspected, he saw the man from the inn, his hood up and cloth mask pulled tightly over his nose. Strangely, he didn’t have a dog with him. Cromwell was beginning to understand why dogless townsfolk from Hundsberg were avoided. They seemed, naked in some way. It was as if they had chosen loneliness as a way of life, and this didn’t make anyone desire their company, let alone their friendship. It was such a strange sight that Cromwell drew attention to it with his first question.
“Where’s your dog?” He asked, not wishing to waste time with introductions and formalities. The man came close and looked at Cromwell up and down before answering,
“Inside.” He gestured to the hole in the mound, his voice was muffled by the mask. Cromwell was unsure why he was even wearing it, it’s not like he would recognise him if he took it off. Without warning the man ducked and went head first into the hole. Cromwell sighed and realised that he would have to follow him. It was so muddy in this wood, he hated having to dirty his clothes anymore than he already had. He did not go head first, but instead put his feet in and lowered himself into the hole slowly. He kept one hand on a vial of essence just in cast this stranger decided to attack him. It was dark in the hole, not unexpectedly, and it stank of something sickly and terrible. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, the hooded man struck flint into a small brass bowl filled with thick liquid. The sparks ignited it and the hole was illuminated by the flickering flames. Cromwell found himself standing in a sizable room, if this had been a tomb it had been emptied long ago. There were shelves built into the walls with jars containing various herbs, tinctures and… as he had guessed, dark red liquid. There were some hogs hair brushes lying nearby and it became clear that this was some kind of base of operations. The hooded man went about checking various food supplies and bottles and it took Cromwell a while to notice the cages along the far wall. There were five in total and each one contained a very cramped and sad looking dog. Despite a stranger entering the room, despite him having been outside for some time, none of the dogs had made a sound. He noticed the red one from the inn and saw that its fur looked matted and scabbed. The other dogs were wide eyed and trembling. Cromwell noticed their ribs poking through their fur and crusted blood around their dry noses. He had never been a big lover of animals, but he had never hated them or treated them cruelly. Looking at the hooded figure going about his business while these dogs looked on, hopeless and devoted, he felt anger enter his mind. He welcomed the emotion but kept it in check. He had a job to do, and letting anger get in the way was not going to help.
“Why did you want to see me?” The man stopped and stared at him, placing a jar of what looked like honey to one side.
“You are the man who came with the Angsthund.” Cromwell waited. This didn’t seem to be a question so he stayed silent, drawing the information out of him.
“I think we can help each other. I heard you at Der Letzte Tropfen, you were saying you wanted the people of Hundsberg to leave. You were saying the writings on the wall were right. Why were you saying these things." Cromwell wanted to stay as guarded as possible.
"I have my reasons. Are you the one who's writing on the walls?" the man paused, considering Cromwell's vague answer before replying.
"Sometimes. But I'm not the only one who thinks these things."
"But you're the only one willing to do anything about it." the man's eyes widened at Cromwell's words. He stepped forward eagerly.
"Yes. One of them yes. Hundsberg used to be a proud town. Now we hide in the trees. We are no better than the dogs we keep. Hiding and cowering from the world."
"So you thought…" interrupted Cromwell, "That you would take it upon yourself to kick start a movement."
"A movement. An exodus. A revolution. Anything, the nature of change does not matter when change is all that is needed." The man was getting frantic. As he moved around the room in quick, erratic motions Cromwell caught sight of a knife handle protruding from a sheath in his belt. This wasn’t an uncommon site in Hundsberg, but its appearance here suddenly made Cromwell very aware of the confined space and single exit.
“What is your name sir?” He decided to try and distract the man from his feverish obsession with change, hopefully drawing him back to reality and the present moment. It worked for an instant when he froze and looked back at Cromwell, then cast a flashing glance at the dogs in their cages.
“My name is not important, my message is what people will remember.” His choice of words and his brief look at the dogs made something fall into place in the puzzle inside Cromwell’s head. The picture was becoming clearer. Just then, the man seemed to ready himself to take a risk, he breathed deeply and turned head on to look at Cromwell directly. Cromwell, shifted his feet, ready to defend himself if necessary.
“You have the Angsthund. The people of Hundsberg will listen to you. I heard you in Der Letzte Tropfen. I think you should help me. I want you to convince Zinnia and the elders to leave and start a new Hundsberg. I think we should start building near the river to the east.” He rummaged around in a box under a makeshift table and got out some parchment with a crude map on it. Cromwell recognised the shape of the river but noticed errors such as Hundsberg’s likely placing within the forest, as well as the position of the crossroads. He stabbed and pointed at various places on it.
“Here would also work because it is near the road.” He muttered under his breath in his native language considering different options. Cromwell had a suspicion forming in his mind. He decided to end the charade and get to the heart of the matter quickly.
“Yes I think I could help you. I can certainly try, but…” He sighed and made a show of some frustration, “They do seem to love the town as it is. What if they refuse to listen?” The hooded man turned slowly back from his map. Cromwell couldn’t be certain, but judging from the creases forming around his eyes, he could have sworn the man was smiling. The smile quickly faded to a burning intensity. The man spoke in a serious tone, pulling back his robes to reveal his knife by his side.
“Then I am afraid we must take action. I do not want to see Hundsberg die. If someone has to die to prevent this, then I shall do what must be done.”
And there it was. The reason behind all of this nonsense. In that moment, Cromwell’s suspicions were confirmed. This wasn’t about a cause. This wasn’t about the greater good of a community. Cromwell had recognised the stink of it as soon as he stepped into this dingy excuse of a hideout. He’d smelt it that one time in the attic in Bonneville, he’d smelt it on the battlefields of Duran, the stench was as unmistakable as it was disgusting: Evil.
Now that he knew what he was dealing with, Cromwell Attorcop could act accordingly. There was just one matter that needed attending to, Cromwell was so used to working alone that he almost forgot to check before he acted.
“I understand.” He said reassuringly, “I should speak to my niece, she might be able to help us…” The hooded man, cut him off.
“No I don’t think so. Your niece has been working with the townsfolk very closely and I do not think she will help us. They have deceived her you see. This is what they do.” His rising anger sparked a feeling of pride in Cromwell. Had he not been wearing that mask, Cromwell wagered he might see some nasty cuts and bruises on the man’s face.
“Besides,” The man said turning to look at the dogs, “I have someone watching her in case she causes trouble.” This made Cromwell’s stomach drop. He had considered that the man would not be working alone, but assumed Lilian would be safe with her new friend, was that not the case?
“What exactly would you have me do?” Cromwell asked the question in the hopes of getting things moving along so that he could go back to check on Lilian. The man went over to one of the dog cages, he picked up a pile of rags lying on top of it and threw them at Cromwell.
“Put this on.” He then bent down to let the black and white dog in the cage out. Cromwell looked down at the cloth in his hands, it was a similar colour to the man’s hooded cloak, a sort of dark mottled green. He felt something hard buried in the folds, unwrapping it he found a long rusted blade with a bone handle. It was a low and angry tool, not a shining proud and silver blade that might be found on the hip of a knight or noble, but a wretched and cruel thing with a single purpose as deadly and focused as the point at its end.
“And what is this for?” Asked Cromwell. The man was opening a second cage and pulling the red dog out by its collar. He looked up.
“Not what. Who. We’re going back to Hundsberg, and you’re going to help me assassinate Zinnia.” Cromwell stayed calm. He guessed something like this was coming.
“And if I refuse?” The man stood up and walked towards him. He had latched a thin rope onto the red dogs collar and handed Cromwell the ball that was attached to the other end. As the wood slapped into his palm the man looked at Cromwell and said, “Then I give the signal and my friend puts something similar into your nieces back. Either that or that great beast that is following you around. Either way, before the evening ends a blade will find a home and Hundsberg will be on course to better days. Now put on the clothes, and don’t forget the hood.”
Back in the woods near Hundsberg, Lilian was watching the sun beams stream through the trees. The sun was disappearing into the horizon and the orange glow was giving the green summer leaves an autumnal feel. Fritha was bounding towards her, lavender bag in mouth, her coat changing into a deep red as she approached. Lilian smiled, she was starting to see Fritha in a very different light. She had enjoyed every minute spent with her, ever since they met at the Padda stone ponds, but she was only just now beginning to feel a connection grow between them. She was noticing her little quirks and habits that made her even more unique and endearing. None of this would be possible if she hadn’t learnt the importance of play. She reminded herself to thank Stephanie properly when they left Hundsberg. In fact, she looked around, where was Stephanie? She thought. She had seen her only moments ago, throwing a stick for Leonardo to fetch. She couldn’t see Leonardo either. Strange, she thought.
“Fritha!” She called out and Fritha obediently lolloped towards her, thudding the earth with each heavy step. She fed her a berry when she reached her side, and continued to look about as Fritha chewed it happily. She noticed movement behind a clump of interlocking saplings and shifted a few steps to have a look. She saw Stephanie outlined against the light. She was talking to someone but Lilian couldn’t see who, the sunlight obscured their face. Lilian began to walk towards the pair and Stephanie turned when she drew close.
“We must go back to Hundsberg.” She said, “They are calling a meeting in the square, I should be there to hear what they say.” Lilian nodded and continued to approach. The person Stephanie was speaking to came into focus, they had a hood covering their head and a cloth mask pulled up over their nose and mouth. Lilian didn’t know them well enough to tell who it was from their eyes, but when she looked down she saw a wide-browed, dark muscular dog who she did recognise.
“Hello Bardat.” Said Lilian smiling. She had recognised the dog as Pippin, one of the two dogs that had knocked her and Mr Attorcop over that day she met Stephanie and Leonardo on the forest road. Bardat bowed his head towards her and gestured to both of them to follow him back to Hundsberg. Lilian was glad of the news, she had been growing tired from the day’s playing and could use a warm cup of Verbrann Suss, the milky sweet drink made from taking the sourness out of the berries that Fritha loved so much.
The three of them walked back in silence. Stephanie smiled at Lilian when Fritha began walking beside her. It was a kind and understanding smile. A smile of progress to which Lilian smiled in return, a smile of thanks and understanding. Bardat did not smile. He did not even look at them as he walked. Lilian thought little of it, she had always found him to be rather surly. When they reached Hundsberg there was already a large crowd gathering in one of the squares, a small wooden platform had been erected, presumably to give any speakers added height. Lilian saw Zinnia talking to one of the village elders and wondered if the raised platform was really necessary, considering her height. She looked tired and determined. Something about the event felt important, as if a decision had been made that might effect everyone in town and as a result, everyone had come out to bare witness. Not having Zinnia’s height, Lilian went to stand on some decking to the left of the crowd. Others were stood there and two women made room for her when she arrived. Stephanie did not follow her, choosing to chat in the crowd with two of her friends, Bardat however, did and was currently stood directly behind her. He wasn’t too tall and must have wanted a better view as well. Lilian scanned the crowd on the lookout for Mr Attorcop, he didn’t seem to have come back from his walk. Everyone was talking in low murmers, speculating as to why the meeting had been called. Lilian saw young children playing with their pups and older folk relying on their slow hounds to guide them round statues and puddles. She heard the occasional bark, but considering how many dogs were gathered in the square, this was a rare occurrence. Lilian found herself once again marvelling at the people of Hundsberg and their unique animal relationships. It started to rain softly and several people in the crowd put their hoods up or found nearby shelter under the trees that lined the square. Just then, her heart skipped a beat. She had to look again to be sure but she could have sworn she had just seen a hooded figure join the back of the crowd with a large red dog. Like many others their hood was up so their face was obscured, it wasn’t this that grabbed Lilian’s attention, the odd thing here was their dog. Lilian couldn’t be sure, but it looked like the dog that had attacked her the night she confronted the wall painter, the one responsible for all this chaos. On closer inspection, the figure looked male, they were tall and had broad shoulders. Had her attacker been that tall? She couldn’t remember. But it was certainly possible. She decided to keep an eye on them, in case she noticed anything odd.
As a hush fell on the crowd, Lilian turned to look at the stage. She tried to keep an eye on the man with the red dog, but she had difficulty doing so whilst looking at Zinnia who was now climbing on to the platform and motioning the crowd to be quiet. Her dog, Otto, sat beside her. Lilian thought it more important to keep an eye on her suspect so she elected to listen to Zinnia whilst watching the man with the red dog. Zinnia addressed the crowd in their native language so Lilian could only guess as to what she was saying. The faces in the crowd looked solem. Lilian didn’t need to understand the Zinnia’s words to know that she was delivering a serious message. Even the dogs seemed subdued, sensing the atmosphere from their masters. After a few minutes, Lilian’s attention was snapped back from scanning the crowd when she noticed motion out of the corner of her eye. The man with the red dog was moving. He was slow and deliberately moving forward, through the crowd. He was careful as he did so, making sure to lay a soft hand on anyone’s shoulder so that they would move out of the way without being bumped or shocked. The red dog followed several feet behind him, tracing the line he was making through the spectators. Lilian’s heart began to beat faster. She considered shouting out, drawing attention to the man but what if he was just an old man trying to get a better view of the stage? Could she be sure this was the same person as that night? He seemed taller, somehow slower in his movements but her head had been filled with adrenaline that night so she could easily be mistaken. No one in the crowd seemed to think this man out of place. Lilian told herself to calm down, she reminded herself that she was in a square with an entire town. The messenger, whoever it was, preferred to work in darkness and alone. This thought drew Lilan’s attention to the evening’s fading light, the sky was still blue in patches where it wasn’t cloudy but the sun had disappeared around the time Zinnia started speaking. The rain was now beginning to pick up making Lilian feel sorry for all the dogs without their own cloaks and hoods. They did not seem to mind however. The rain did make it slightly harder to keep an eye on the man with the red dog but Lilian was still tracking him as he made his way through the crowd. Surely if he was just seeking a better view of the stage, he would have stopped by now, she thought. And then she saw something strange. From within the folds of the cloak she caught sight of a light. It flickered and moved with each step. It was like the man was holding a mirror that was catching the last of the evening light. And then Lilian’s stomach dropped as the realisation dawned on her. It wasn’t a mirror, it was a blade. The man was past the mid section of the crowd and his pace was increasing, all of Lilian’s suspicions had been confirmed. The man was heading straight for Zinnia and he was carrying a knife. Lilian was running out of time, she decided quickly to raise the alarm, she was going to point at the man and have everyone look at him as she shouted the word ‘knife’ as loud as she could. She breathed in deeply and began to form the word with her tongue, when she felt a rough hand clasp over her mouth and she was pulled head and then body backwards into the shadows.
Benlunar - Episode 15
Tooth & Fist
The Roads of Alicium run through it like veins
From small paths down mountains to city built lanes
They’ll guide you home or take you away
Or make you visit village that begs you to stay
Up through the pass, down through the grass
Stick to your map, veer not from the path
Or perhaps take an unfamiliar bend
After all, the aim of the song is the tune not the end
Lilian sat stock still in the darkness of the round room. She was reeling from her strange experience with the attention exercise. For a few seconds, she could have sworn she had been somewhere else, or even many places, but without ever having left the hut. She was remembering the sounds and events she had experienced and was suddenly jolted into action. She stood up and tiptoed over to Mr Attorcop who lay sleeping in a pile of furs on the other side of the room. She bent down and shook his shoulder, trying to stay quiet as she moved. It didn’t take long for Mr Attorcop to open his eyes but it took him a couple more seconds to realise what was happening.
“Lilian? Is everything alright?” He sat up and looked around, Lilian brought her finger up to her mouth to quiet him down.
“I heard someone.” Mr Attorcop’s eyes darted around the dark space.
“Where?”
“Not here.” Replied Lilian, “They’re in town somewhere. They’re sneaking around and I think they’ve got a bucket of paint with them. I think someone is trying to paint another message.” Mr Attorcop was silent as he considered the information.
“What do you mean, you heard them? I can’t hear anything.”
“I was practising the attention exercise and I heard their footsteps. They sounded strange, I’m not sure where they are but…” She faltered as she realised how silly she sounded. She looked at Mr Attorcop, half expecting him to be laughing or rolling his eyes, but his face was serious.
“That’s good Lilian, I want to hear all about it soon but right now, I’m trying to think what’s best to do.” Lilian already had a plan.
“We can go now and maybe we’ll catch them red handed!”
“Maybe,” He spoke as he began pulling furs off him and standing up, “Or maybe they’re trying to lure us out, into a trap.”
“A trap?” said Lilian, incredulous, “How could they know I would hear them?”
“Maybe they assume we’re setting up watch during the night. I just don’t think it’s down to coincidence that another messenger appears the second night we decide to stay here.” Mr Attorcop stood bent and low to the ground. As he spoke, he edged toward the curtain that blocked the door.
“I think this might be some sort of test. I think they’re trying to figure out who’s side we’re on.” Lilian was confused.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it seems that most of the village enjoys living in Hundsberg but a small section seem to think they’d be better off elsewhere. That’s my theory anyway.”
“You think it’s more than one person?” asked Lilian.
“Undoubtedly.” Replied Mr Attorcop as he pulled the curtain aside a fraction and peeked out into the village. After a little while he drew back and relaxed.
“Honestly Lilian, I think we should just go back to bed.” Lilian was aghast, she had to contain her shock so as to not raise her voice when she spoke,
“Go back to bed! There’s someone out there spreading awful ideas and insulting these people. They’ve been kind to us and they’ve fed us, how can you…” Anger was taking hold of her and Mr Attorcop put a hand out in an effort to calm her. Lilian found this very patronising and crossed her arms in a sulk.
“I’m not saying we ignore the problem. I’m saying that if we head out there now we risk showing our hand. The person out there is undoubtedly nervous and nervous people are unpredictable. I’ve already set a plan in motion that I believe…” But Lilian didn’t hear the end of his sentence. She had already pulled back the curtain and was stepping out of the hut into the balmy night. She had felt Mr Attorcop call after her, he might have even stepped outside, but without any shoes or boots on he didn’t get far without turning back to go and retrieve his footwear. By the time he’d put his boots on, Lilian had already ducked into a sidestreet and was trying to remember where the sound of the footsteps had come from. She found that anger was clouding her thoughts too much so she acted instinctively, letting her body take her where she needed to be. She found herself twisting down lanes and darting across wider streets. After only about 5 minutes she found herself in a dark alleyway, about two streets from the main road. There was no light coming from any of the small windows that looked out into the alley so Lilian was thankful for the clear sky and the light of the stars. She slowed her pace and focused her mind. The wooden board walls and trickles of smelly water seemed familiar and Lilian wondered if this was where she’d heard the furtive footsteps. Suddenly she saw movement up ahead. She ducked behind a pile of wooden crates and tried see if she could make out who was moving up ahead. Through a small gap in the wood she could only see the vague outline and movement of a hooded figure. They were tall and they were facing away from her. Lilian was reminded of the hoods and cowls worn by Stephanie and Bardat when they had accosted them in the forest, she had seen many people around Hundsberg wear similar hoods so guessing who this might be was impossible. Lilian needed to get a better look so she slowly stuck her head out from behind the boxes, careful not to make a sound as she did. She was able to get a better look at the hooded figure, she briefly saw that they were holding some kind of tool, possibly a brush, but Lilian didn’t have time to look properly because she was staring into the brown, glassy eyes of very big dog. Lilian hadn’t even thought to look for it. Of course it head smelt her and wandered over to investigate. For a brief second the two stared in silence, each as surprised as the other. The dog was dark red and didn’t have the wide forehead and big jaws that had made Leonardo so intimidating, but it was taller and could still probably be quite nasty if pushed to violence. The dog began jerking a little, Lilian thought it was about to be sick but with each new convulsion it let out a low and whispered sound, a small bark. And then she understood. The dog was signalling its owner of her presence without making a loud racket, Lilian might have been impressed if the dogs barking hadn’t suddenly drawn the attention of the hooded figure. Lilian saw them whirl round but they were too far and too covered up to make out any discerning features. She heard them let out a quick whistle and the dog ran back to them and just like that the two were off. They ran quickly and nimbly down the alley and into a sidestreet, Lilian, almost without thinking gave chase. Left down the street, right up another alley Lilian almost lost sight of them when they turned back on themselves down a near hidden path obscured by hanging laundry. She brushed the sheets aside and ran blindly after the culprit. Her fighting practise and consistent walking had done much for her fitness as she seemed to be closing the distance between her and her prey. If I could just get a look at their face, she thought as she turned a quick left corner. Lilian found herself running into almost pitch blackness, the buildings in this part of the town were very close together. Lilian slowed her pace so that she could find her bearings. Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness she beamed. Ahead of her was a large mud clay wall with no streets leading left or right, the hooded stranger was at the bottom of it, cornered. Lilian wanted to shout out, she wanted to alert the rest of Hundsberg that she had saved the day, or rather, the night but before she could get a word out, her smiled faded in realisation. The hooded figure was alone, which meant… Lilian whipped round to have her fears confirmed. The chestnut red dog was behind her teeth bared, a low growl coming from its muscular throat. Lilian cursed under her breath. It must have gone right instead of left at the last junction and Lilian had instinctively followed the sound of boots turning the opposite way. Now it had turned back and crept up on her, forcing her to have opponents on two sides. Her heart began to beat quickly and her training kicked in. She breathed deeply, slowing it down and putting oxygen into her limbs, this might be a long fight and she would need all the energy she could muster. She stepped back from the approaching dog, aware that she was just getting closer to the hooded figure.
“We don’t need to fight.” She said in as calm a voice as she could muster, “I haven’t seen your face or heard your voice. You can just leave me alone and I won’t pursue you.” She thought she could hear a faint laugh coming from under the stranger’s cowl. They might be right to laugh at the threats of a young girl, thought Lilian, they were quite a bit taller than she was and had a well trained hunting beast to back them up.
There was a pregnant silence. Lilian stood in a guard position and waited. She breathed out slowly readying her body. And then the fight began. It was the dog that lunged first, its jaws glittered in the starlight as they hurtled towards Lilian’s left arm with uncanny speed. Lilian was ready though and she twisted out of the way and watched the dog fly past, with a fraction of a second’s realisation Lilian flicked her arms up to her right to guard against a punch from above. The dog’s attack had been yet another distraction and it was only months of reaction practise that saved her from a knock out blow. The punch was followed swiftly by two more, a left hook blocked by her right arm and a right uppercut that Lilian had to step backwards to avoid. She remembered Mr Attorcop’s word from one of their many sparring sessions, “If you have to step back, get back into their space quickly. A blow hurts more the longer it has to travel.” The advice rang true as Lilian was able to block another wild punch by stepping into it rather than away. Then the dog was back, it stood between its owner’s legs and snapped at Lilian’s heels. At one point the stranger muttered a word and the animal leapt upwards knocking Lilian to the ground. Luckily she’d had the foresight to tuck her legs into her body and was able to kick the dog up and over her, it landed a few feet away with a thud and a whimper. Lilian continued the backwards rolling motion and used it to find her feet. She stood up and caught her breath. The stranger had paused. Lilian had clearly surprised them with her level of competence but she knew that that would not be enough to make them stop attacking. Lilian noticed that although they had strength, the stranger lacked speed. This would be her winning tactic. The next flurry of attacks began as soon as the dog was up on its feet. Lilian dodged and blocked as best she could but the two attackers weaved and danced in near perfect symbiosis. As soon as one fainted an attack the other would appear from elsewhere with a serious hit. Lilian felt a knee driven hard into her chest but Mr Attorcop’s voice echoed in her head once more. “A good fighter isn’t one who can land the most hits. It’s often the one who can take the most and still keep fighting.” And so Lilian persisted. Every bite was batted away, every punch blocked by wrist or fist. She managed to get in a few hits of her own, even one to the strangers stomach that had them double over in shock. But whereas in a normal fight, Lilian could have taken advantage of this lapse to deliver a knock-out kick, the dog was instantly in front of its owner, snapping and clawing in their defence. Lilian was getting weary, what made things even more difficult was that she wasn’t carrying a stick or blade, but then, she thought, thankfully they aren’t either. Lilian suddenly realised that she had them both with their backs to the wall, leaving the exit free for her to run to. But she took a split second to decide whether to run or keep fighting, and it cost her dearly. As she turned to run, she felt sharp teeth clamping down on her left heel, she gasped and instinctively turned to observe the damage. The stranger took advantage of the distraction and delivered a swift punch to her left cheek. It sent tiny lights spraying across her vision and she felt her balance go. Lilian managed to tear her leg out of the dog’s jaws and get a few steps away before falling over. The hard ground came up to meet her with dizzying speed, she could taste blood in her mouth. Suddenly, she felt the weight and fur of an animal step over her, she braced herself and tried to cover her throat, scared that the stranger’s dog might try to bite it. But nothing happened. Lilian opened her eyes and indeed saw a large creature standing over her, its hefty legs straddling her body. It’s fur wasn’t red however, it was a strange dark green, and all of a sudden, it changed to become a bright orange. Fritha. Thought Lilian. She breathed out and tried to gather her senses. She sat up on her elbow and tried to look at the scene. Fritha was staring intently at the man, her eyes narrowed and her back arched with aggression. She was bearing her long fangs and Lilian saw that the stranger and the dog were at a loss. They didn’t seem to dare to attack and were stepping back towards the large wall. Lilian picked herself up slowly. She stared at Fritha who was tense with anger. Just then, her back dropped and her mouth closed. She did not break eye contact with the aggressors, but she no longer seemed on the verge of attacking. She towered two heads taller than the stranger’s dog who currently had its tail between its legs in worry. Then a low sound came from Fritha. Lilian had never heard it before. It was like someone hitting a gong with a cloth softened mallet, producing a haunting and beautiful sound. It came from her throat, as all Fritha’s strange bell like sounds did and it reverberated and hung in the air for some time. Then it happened again and it seemed to send panic into the hearts of the stranger and their dog. The mysterious person turned around and placed their foot into a hidden enclave in the wall, they quickly hoisted themselves up and were able to turn and place their other foot on a high ledge on the cornering wall. Their dog then leapt into their arms with a well practised jump and the stranger through it up and over the back wall of the alley. Lilian heard a soft thud and assumed there must be some stack of soft materials behind it for precisely this situation. She watched as the stranger jumped up and followed suit and with a flick of their cloak, they were over the wall and gone.
Lilian swore and felt shame rise up inside her. She had been foolish and she had failed. If Fritha hadn’t… Well, she didn’t want to think about what might have happened. She looked down at Fritha amazed that she had found her in this dark place.
“Thank you.” She whispered. She felt a little silly talking to Fritha whom she knew full well could not respond, but she quickly ignored that feeling. Why shouldn’t she thank her? Fritha was looking at Lilian, her nose twitching with concern. Low and pleasant chiming emanated from her chest, her coat was a deep purple and her eyes were big and bright and beautiful.
Later, Lillian limped shamefully through the curtain into the round hut. Mr Attorcop was not there so Lilian found a pan of fresh water and began to clean her cuts. Luckily, the dog’s bite on her ankle had gripped her boot more than her skin so she managed to get away with some bloodied bruising rather than a torn ligament. She cleaned it and dressed it with some rags she boiled over the fire. She was cleaning the cut on her face when Mr Attorcop walked in. When he saw her he gave a big sigh and closed his eyes. Lilian was expecting a lecture but he seemed to get a grip on his anger before he spoke.
"How bad are you hurt?" Lilian felt a lump in her throat, she wanted to cry but knew that it wouldn't help. She pushed it down.
"I'm OK. Couple of cuts and this." She gestured to her ankle. Mr Attorcop shook his head.
"Can you walk." Lilian nodded. He came over to the benches by the fire pit and sat down. He thought a while before speaking.
"I don't want to shout and tell you off. I'm not your father and I think you're probably well aware of how stupid and dangerous your actions were tonight." Lilian almost wished that he did shout at least then she could have raged and shouted back like she wanted, instead she just felt the hot lump of tears and sadness well up in her throat. He was not her father. Lilian missed her father.
"Lilian I'm not training you to fight so that you can go around threatening…"
"I didn't…" Lilian protested but Mr Attorcop raised his hand quickly to silence her. His patience was being tested. He spoke slowly, measuring his words carefully,
"The training we've been doing has two purposes, the first is to get you more in tune with your body, the second is to help you in the last resort of violence breaking out. There are many ways to solve problems and violence is very rarely one of them. I know you weren't picking a fight. But you shot out of this place without realising that violence might have been your prey's intention, despite it not being your own. I… " Mr Attorcop faltered. Lilian lifted her gaze from the floor to look at him. His eyes were red, he looked tired.
"I was scared." And with that he said no more. Lilian rubbed a place on her ribs that had been hit in the fight.
"I'm sorry." She spoke softly and could feel her pulse beating in her reddening cheeks. Mr Attorcop didn't acknowledge the apology. Instead, he got up and walked over to his bed.
"Did you at least see their face?" he muttered as he began pulling the animal skins back.
"No," replied Lilian, getting up and testing her weight on her damaged ankle, “But I saw their dog.”
The next morning saw the news of a new message whip around the town like wildfire. The wall in question was very close to the main road and this, more than the actual words, seemed to be the main concern. The message was a strange one because it was not finished like the rest had been. In bold red letters it read “GET OUT. MOVE AWA…” and that was it. The last word was assumed to be ‘away’ but the culprit seemed to only have had time to write part of it. Lilian agreed with Mr Attorcop to keep last night’s events a secret, apparently he was enacting some plan that Lilian’s scuffle might endanger. Lilian offered to help but he assured her that training with Stephanie and Fritha would be a more valuable use of her time in Hundsberg. Once the wall had been scrubbed and the nosier citizens shooed back into their homes, Mr Attorcop and Lilian sat with Stephanie in the main hut. They were drinking their sweet Verbrunn Suss and discussing the morning’s discovery.
“I think they will have a meeting here today.” Said Stephanie, patting a drooling Leonardo on the side.
“Who?” Asked Mr Attorcop.
“Zinnia and the heads of the families. They must decide what to do about this.” Mr Attorcop considered her answer and stared at Stephanie. Lilian wanted to apologise for him, staring so indignantly was considered rude in Benlunar but Mr Attorcop never was one for proper social etiquette.
“Stephanie?” He asked finally, “What do you think of the messages? Do you agree with them?” Lilian almost spoke up and if she hadn’t had a proper telling off last night she would have done. She expected Stephanie to be hurt by the question, as if anyone would agree with such hateful words against her own people. But when she looked over at her young, curly haired friend she saw her face scrunch up in confusion. She seemed to be having difficulty forming a response.
“I don’t agree with the way they are saying it…” Mr Attorcop pushed.
“But you agree with the sentiment.”
“No… well.” Stephanie lowered her voice. “A few of the younger people here think that Hundsberg needs to become a bit more… modern.”
“Modern? How so?”
“Well, I mean it’s ok now in the Summer but in the winter it gets very cold and the mud does not dry quickly but no one complains because, well this is our home and we are doing our best but maybe if we allowed more strangers in we could trade or learn new things. I think it would not be of harm but the older people they want Hundsberg to stay the same because we are protected and safe and we have always been so maybe they are right.” Lilian couldn’t restrain herself any longer.
“Do you think the person writing the messages is a young person from Hundsberg?” Stephanie sighed.
“I do not know anyone who thinks this way or would say these things to our community.” A silence fell for a while before it was interrupted by Zinnia entering the hut with Otto trotting behind her. She sat down by the fire pit and rubbed her eyes. She seemed tired and even more stressed than when they had first met. Then she began to speak. She spoke as if the words were aching to burst out of her. Lilian wondered if she might have said them even if they hadn’t been sat there waiting for her.
“If it’s trouble they want then they are succeeding. All morning I have been putting out fires. ‘Zinnia, what does this mean, Zinnia are we safe, Zinnia should we leave or stay? And of course all I want to say is ‘I don’t know’ but the minute you say that the next thing you hear is ‘are we sure Zinnia is fit to lead is? She never seems to have an answer to anything.” She sighed and said a few words to Stephanie that Lilian didn’t understand. Stephanie nodded and looked at Lilian and jerked her head towards the entrance. Lilian understood the signal and left, calling Fritha to join them as she did. She did it off hand and was delighted to see the Feinhound get up and obediently follow her. Stephanie smiled at the progress,
“I knew you could do it Amelia, I think today we should work more on her fetching and playing yes?” Lilian nodded and Followed Stephanie through Hundsberg to the small square they had worked in the day before. Mr Attorcop had opted to stay behind for the meeting and Lilian was pleased to get to spend the day training again. Stephanie taught her more than she could have hoped for. Every lesson took the form of a game and Lilian quickly discovered Fritha’s playful side as they had her chasing furry toys and balls around the entire square. Once the game had been established Stephanie would show Lilian how to turn the game into a lesson. Chasing the ball was rewarded with a sour berry when the ball was successfully returned. Lilian was instructed to reward Fritha often and quickly so that Fritha would quickly associate a certain action with something she loved. In a matter of hours Lilian was getting Fritha to wait while she walked back the length of the square, she could fetch various objects which she recognised by name alone and she even managed to change colour on command once or twice. Stephanie admitted that Fritha was making exceptionally quick progress.
“It took Leonardo two weeks to learn not to just lie on his back when I said his name! You are a great teacher Amelia and Fritha is a very good pupil. I should expect nothing less from an Angsthund.” They were sitting on a bench drinking fresh water and taking a break from training. Lilian blushed at the complements and then remembered a question she had meant to ask several days ago.
“What does that mean? Angsthund?” Stephanie looked back from watching Leonardo chasing Fritha’s tail and nipping at her ankles.
“Hm? Oh this is what we call Fritha. Angsthund is the legendary spirit of Hundsberg.”
“That’s funny.” Replied Lilian, “Where I’m from, we call them Feinhounds.” The name sparked a memory of Kilde laying traps and nets on a forest floor, it sent a shock of pain running through her chest. She did her best to ignore it and looked at Stephanie who was smiling.
“That’s strange. I like the name Feinhound. I wonder if it comes from “fear-hound.”
“What do you mean?” Asked Lilian.
“Oh. That’s what Angsthund means. Fear-hound. It’s because in all the stories they are very scary.” Lilian thought about this for a second. Maybe the term ‘fear-hound’ had travelled up the mountain from this village and changed into Feinhound. She had always thought it was a Feinhound because it pretended to be things in the stories.
“Can’t dogs sense fear?” She asked, remembering something her mother had told her once about not being scared of animals.
“No,” replied Stephanie, “this is a myth. To do something like that it takes…” Her eyes fell on Fritha as her coat shimmered into a dazzling pink and blue, “It takes a legend.”
Mr Attorcop regretted his decision to stay behind and listen to the meeting. The responses to the new writing from the elders of the town had been slow and predictable. After hearing the fifth old man complain about Zinnia’s lack of leadership and fears that his children were in danger, Mr Attorcop decided to start coughing loudly and used this as an excuse to leave. His mind was partly clouded by lack of sleep but it was still clear enough to show him a path. If he was correct in his assumptions then this whole mess could be concluded by the end of the day, but that might mean putting himself at risk. His shoulder was still hurting from when that blasted dog had knocked him over so if he had to bash a few head together before leaving this place he wouldn’t be sorry. Still… he thought whilst looking at a group of kids playing fetch with their respective pups, he wouldn’t want to face a group of these animals in a fight. He had spoken to Siegfried’s nephew the day before. He had been glad to leave the stinking soldier in the pool of beer and sweat he’d found him in, but felt a pang of sorrow to find out that he was the boy’s only carer. The boy however was chipper and seemed content with playing with his little caramel coloured dog and his friends. When he was questioned about the first message that he found he became mute. Had he found it on his own? No response. Did he remember what it said? A shake of the head. What had he been playing that day behind the main building? A shrug. Frustrated, Mr Attorcop hoped that today’s meeting with the boys uncle would prove more fruitful. He had agreed to meet him again after an extensive chat the day before about the history of Hundsberg. Apparently it had once been a thriving hub of trade, but no one was alive to remember such days. Still, there were, as in every settlement, a disenfranchised few that wished for better things but were unable or unwilling to work to make them happen. This bygone era of trade and glory was one such way of life the boozy dwellers of Der Letzte Tropfen harkened back to when grumbling about the inadequacies of the current establishment. Of course, as was always the case with such people, as soon as they were questioned about the steps needed to make change happen, they would rant and rail about how it wasn’t their responsibility, but that of the elders and governors that were just too lazy or corrupt to do anything about it. They were exactly the kind of people Mr Attorcop had hoped to find and after his conversation that morning with Stephanie his suspicions had been confirmed. He only hoped that last night’s activity hadn’t ruined his plan. It took several days of visiting the dingy bar and pretending to drink the bitter flat beer that they served there. He would laugh at their terrible jokes, play their annoying games and shout loudly to anyone who would listen that he hoped a new message would appear that night, that he hoped the people of Hundsberg would listen to the warnings and leave their town, that he hoped every wall in the entire place was covered in writing. Finally on the 6th day, he was approached by a pale faced man that seemed to know Siegfried. He pulled Mr Attorcop to one side and whispered that he agreed with him. He handed him a note and quickly left, drawing his hood down and whistling to his large, red dog.
Benlunar - Episode 14
Four legged friends
The Roads of Alicium run through it like veins
From small paths down mountains to city built lanes
They’ll guide you home or take you away
Or make you visit village that begs you to stay
Up through the pass, down through the grass
Stick to your map, veer not from the path
Or perhaps take an unfamiliar bend
After all, the aim of the song is the tune not the end
That night, Lilian slept soundly in a corner of the great circular room. Stephanie had fetched blankets for her and Mr Attorcop and Lilian gladly wrapped herself in the soft wool and lay her head on a sheepskin pillow. As she drifted off to sleep, she remembered the cold silence that had descended on the room when she had mentioned her theory about the painted messages. Zinnia’s face had been a mask of shock. That anyone in her community would want to hurt them was unthinkable, let alone force them out of their homes by use of threats and intimidation. It was clear that Zinnia had a lot to consider and so she quickly summoned blankets and bade them to sleep, they would tackle the matter tomorrow. And so, with the crackling of the fire popping in her mind, Lilian drifted into a deep sleep where she dreamt of home only it was run by dogs who spoke and who only ever wanted to eat carrots.
Seeing Hundsberg in the light of day was a wonderful experience. Lilian had assumed that all the wood and mud would make the town a dull brown but she was surprised to see just how much colour there was. The walls were painted with murals and words inspiring love and a strong sense of community. There were bright orange walls across from purple window frames. Stephanie explained that the dyes and paints were all made from the surrounding plants and insects. She was taking them to the spot where the first message appeared, Mr Attorcop had asked to see it. Fritha was staying close to Lilian and was giving the Hundsberg murals a run for their money with an array of bright blues and gold shimmering on her slick fur. Lilian wondered if she was playing up to the crowd. People stared as they walked past, some were brave and went to try and touch her but each time they did she would slip away from their hands, just as she did whenever Lilian tried. Stephanie guided them through little alleyways and side passages, the houses in Hundsberg clearly made use of all available space so it took some maneuvering to get round the back of the main, circular building they had slept in last night. The journey had made Lilian realise why Zinnia had been so shocked to hear that the culprit might be one of their own citizens. The sense of shared experience and community was very strong. She guessed it had to be if everyone lived so close to one another. Lilian would spot people walking freely in and out of each other’s houses, they would smile and greet each other with the kind of happiness that Benlunar folk might only express after not seeing a close friend for many months. Everyone had their dog with them at all times and Lilian began to realise that they were not merely companions. They would help with hunting, with guarding the town against danger, with tracking lost townsfolk but their uses went beyond the practical. They comforted children when they fell over, they played with their owners and brought a sense of fun and silliness to this strange forest town. Lilian watched as a child, probably no older than 7 or 8, played catch with his yappy brown and black puppy. They seemed to feed off each other’s energy. Lilian looked at Fritha and wondered if she would ever see this serious and sullen creature catch a ball and bring it back.
When they got to the site of the first message, Mr Attorcop began asking about the paint. The words had long been scrubbed clean but faint outlines could still be seen.
“The words were red.” Stephanie was still smiling, despite the gravity of the message, “I think it was meant to look like blood. It could have been blood I suppose, but we use a lot of red paint made from boiled berries and we never found any corpses or dead things lying around.” Mr Attorcop was looking closely at the wall while Lilian was casting an eye on their surroundings. The large building backed onto a small space, probably only the size of Lilian’s kitchen back in Benlunar. The wall stretched across one side while a steep mudbank flanked the other. Lilian saw a lot of various footprints, both human and dog running up and down the bank so it would have been difficult to track anyone. It certainly wasn’t the kind of place where the writing would be clearly visible.
“The message could have been up for quite a while before anyone noticed it.” She said to Mr Attorcop.
“Yes.” He replied, “But I suppose if they didn’t want to be caught in the act it makes sense to put it back here. It would have been found eventually. Who did you say found the message Stephanie?”
“A boy. Gerhart. He was playing back here and he screamed when he saw the message.” Mr Attorcop paused and turned back to look at Stephanie.
“Playing?” He said, “What was he playing?” Stephanie looked confused.
“I’m not sure. He just said he was playing. Probably a game with his dog, I think her name is Kiki.” Mr Attorcop shrugged and turned back to the wall. Stephanie’s dog, Leonardo, was by her side and suddenly began to paw at her leg. She turned to him and raised a finger,
“Hold Leonardo.” Lilian was fascinated.
“What does he want?” She asked.
“Oh, we train them to tell us when they need to go to the toilet. He is telling me he needs to go, I am telling him to wait because we are busy.”
“Are all the dogs this well trained?” Said Lilian, looking at Leonardo who had gone back to sitting patiently.
“Oh yes, our lives may depend on it. Everyone relies on their dog and everyone’s dog relies on them. I am the only person who is allowed to feed Leonardo and I trust him with my safety, always.” Lilian caught herself glancing at Fritha again. It was as if she was being haunted by a strange ghost. There was a relationship between them, but not one anyone might call close. Stephanie must have noticed Lilian’s disappointment.
“Do you do any training with Fritha Amelia? Do you play together?” Lilian still wasn’t used to being called a different name. She flushed, she felt embarrassed to admit to such a competent dog owner that her own companion had little to no training and generally did as she pleased. She didn’t even dare call Fritha her dog.
“No. I… I wouldn’t know what to do. She’s amazing but I feel like she could leave at any minute and never come back.” Stephanie smiled broadly.
“No. She will not do this. She will stay with you for the rest of her life, I am sure of this in the same way that I am sure I can see you standing here in front of me.” Lilian smiled a hopeful, all be it disbelieving smile. Stephanie’s posture suddenly changed, her gaze fell to the floor and she seemed ashamed to speak.
“Miss Amelia, I hope I am not being too bold or rude but…” She paused, clearly very uncomfortable.
“What is it?” Asked Lilian,
“Well… If you wouldn’t mind, I could help you to train Fritha? But of course, only with permission. I’m sorry, in my culture training someone else’s dog is something you do with very young children, after that it is considered very rude...”
“Yes…” Lilian interrupted her. “I would love that. I’ve never even had a dog and I wouldn’t even know where to start. Please, would you help us?” Stephanie’s smile was so wide Lilian worried she might pull a muscle.
“It would be my honour.” And to Lilian’s surprise she bowed and then to Lilian’s delight, Leonardo lowered his head and bowed too.
“Once everyone is quite finished with the theatrics I should like to see the other sites.” Mr Attorcop had evidently finished examining the wall and motioned for Stephanie to lead the way.
The other spots that had been vandalised were also in secluded areas, although each new warning was closer to the main street. It appeared that whoever was leaving them was getting bolder with each attempt. Lilian didn’t gain much more information from the other sites and she wondered whether Mr Attorcop might have noticed something she hadn’t. Perhaps she was distracted by the thought of training Fritha. It was an exciting concept but something was worrying her still. Fritha was not a domesticated animal, she was a wild beast, would she even respond to training in the same way? After examining all the sites they sat down to eat in the main hut that they had slept in the night before. Zinnia must have been busy with town business because she did not join them. Lilian happily ate the thick soup that had been cooking on the central fire all morning. It was thick and chunky with soft vegetables and bits of meat floating in it. It might not have been much to look at but when Lilian sipped the broth her taste buds lit up. She knew the taste of the various vegetables, but the unfamiliar herbs and spice made it almost as good as the traditional Benlunar beef stew. She had to pace herself in eating it, lest it disappear before she could enjoy it properly. When she was about half way through her bowl, she looked up to see Stephanie behaving rather strangely. She was carefully extracting various chunks of meat and vegetables from her bowl and placing them on the floor in a little line between Lilian and Fritha. The Feinhound was sitting imperiously looking at this strange behaviour, her sharp eyes quickly darting from Stephanie to the food and back again. Once she had placed about six different morsels down she knelt beside Lilian and whispered.
"Call her to the food." Lilian drained the last of her broth and swallowed nervously. She looked at Fritha's beautiful cat-like eyes, shining in the low light of the hut. She looked like a queen draped across the animal skins in perfectly poised comfort.
"Fritha!" Lilian spoke in her clearest, most commanding voice, but as she predicted, Fritha did not move. She merely stared and then proceeded to lick her paw. Lilian turned to Stephanie, disheartened.
"Don't worry." She said, "you must have patience. This is the only way."
"I fed her an hour ago." said Lilian, "She must not be hungry." Stephanie was not convinced.
"When we find the right food, she will never want to stop! Look at Leonardo, he will do anything for a bit of chicken." At the mere mention of the word Leonardo stood up and cocked his head expectantly. Lilian giggled and looked back at Fritha. She was standing up and cautiously approached the line of food. She sniffed the chunk of meat and picked at it gingerly. Lilian smiled. "There! What kind of meat is that?"
"It is lamb I think. But this is not the right one. She is eating but she is not excited. When we find the right food or toy, we can begin training." Lilian didn't understand why they couldn't use lamb but she put her trust in Stephanie's experience.
Mr Attorcop hadn't been paying any attention to the proceedings. His head was wrapped up in a mystery. It was one of his favourite mental spaces to be. He twisted and turned the morning’s observations in his head like a carpenter examining a box from all angles. Each piece of information represented a lock in his head and every lock could only be opened with one key. The keys of course were the different theories surrounding the motivations and circumstances of the mystery. Some keys opened several locks, but only one would open them all and reveal the boxes contents. Currently, Mr Attorcop was wrestling with a particular lock, the one that represented motive. If his and Lilian’s theory was correct, and the words had indeed been written by someone in the village, he needed to know why. He had considered other locks, like getting everyone in the village to write down a sentence and comparing their handwriting to the graffiti, but this would take far too long and the culprit would easily figure out his intention and purposefully change their pen style. He had considered interviewing every single person in town but again, this would take days and he would rather leave Hundsberg within the week. The mystery was too enticing to simply ignore though, and a few days rest wouldn’t hurt their journey. No, he thought as he gazed at the little animal that obediently followed Stephanie around, the key to this mess lies in motivation. If I can work out why someone would want to relocate the town, I can narrow down the suspects to people who agree with them. This should speed up the process considerably.
“Amelia,” Mr Attorcop drained his bowl and addressed his ward, Lilian looked up, the name sounded even stranger coming from him, “If you don’t mind staying with Stephanie this afternoon I’m going to conduct some interviews.” Lilian was pleased to get the chance to work with Stephanie but felt a pang of worry,
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Lilian asked, they had done everything together for weeks, this sudden desire to work alone struck her as odd.
“I’ll be fine. I have an idea I’d like to test and I believe this might be easier to do alone.” Mr Attorcop saw Lilian’s expression and wondered why she looked so hurt. He tried to address it. “Don’t worry,” He said, “All will be clear by this evening. I leave you in Stephanie’s capable hands.” And with that he drew back the curtain across the hut’s entrance and stepped into the dappled light of the forest village.
The ground was hard and dry and Cromwell Attorcop’s feet carried him silently across Hundsberg’s main street until he found what he was looking for. He walked past people and dogs gathered on corners, sitting on beautifully carved benches. He nodded to a group of young men who were busy tanning a hide in a low pit, the smell of chemicals made him wince but he stopped nonetheless to admire the bags, shoes and various other produce that the tanners had created. It was good work, not as decorative as Freedos leather with its fancy studs and perforations that catered to the taste of nobles who would never need their shoes to walk through muck and puddles. These boots were sturdy and chemically treated to the point of being comfortable as well as waterproof. He spoke with the tanners and purchased a pair of dark boots. They were expensive but they would last him many years if he treated them regularly with the wax provided by the Hundsberg leather workers. He agreed to pay a little extra and bought Lilian a pair as well. Finally, he asked one of the men where he might find Gerhart, the child who had first seen the message written on the wall.
“Why do you wish to speak with Gerhart?” Replied the man, pocketing Cromwell’s gold and turning back to his tools.
“I’m investigating the strange messages that have been found on the walls. I believe he was the first to see one. I just want to ask him a couple of questions.” He tried to sound as non-threatening as possible, always a useful tactic when asking to speak with someone’s infant son.
“If you go to Der Letzte Tropfen at the end of the road there. You should meet Siegfried. That is Gerhart’s uncle.” Mr Attorcop nodded,
“How will I know him?” A couple of the men smile at the question. One replied,
“You won’t miss him. You might even see him with your eyes closed.” This was met with some chuckles and one of the younger lads said something in another language which was met with outright laughter. It seemed as though this Siegfried character was a source of mockery amongst the tanners. Mr Attorcop thanked them once more and made his way in the direction they had pointed out. The house they described turned out to be a small Inn. It had none of the welcoming air of the Inns they had passed on the road. The door was shabby and dark and might only have been recognised as a public house by the faded painting of a near empty beer mug on a board outside. The mug had a faded image of a bleary-eyed dog above it, the animal’s tongue reaching down into it, nearly touching the last of the foamy beer. Mr Attorcop curled his nose at the smell coming from inside. He took a couple of deep breaths, and pushed the door open.
Lilian stepped out of the Hundsberg central hut with Stephanie by her side and Fritha following moments later. She had watched Fritha nibble at the various chunks of stew but none, according to Stephanie, had achieved quite the desired effect.
“I think we walk through town and we watch her now.” Said Stephanie confidently. Lilian still wasn’t sure what they were looking for but couldn’t help but trust Stephanie’s upbeat and smiley attitude. Leonardo trotted up ahead, occasionally turning to check that they were still following. Lilian followed Stepahnie’s advice and kept an eye on Fritha. As they walked, she watched Fritha turn her head nonchalantly from side to side, taking in the various sights and hounds of Hundsberg’s main street. Whenever they walked past someone eating something Stephanie would speak to them quickly in their own language and gesture to Lilian and Fritha. Everyone they met was keen to help and offered a piece of their food for Lilian to take. Each time she did she would set it in front of her and call out to Fritha. Fritha would eventually step forward and sniff at the morsel of chicken or cheese before either nibbling at it or ignoring it completely. Each try was met with sighs and shrugs from Stephanie and the strangers they had asked. Eventually, a small crowd began to follow them as word spread of their mission to find Fritha’s favourite food. It wasn’t until quite some time later that they met with success. Lilian was close to giving up by the time they reached the end of the main street, near to where she and Mr Attorcop had entered Hundsberg last night. She was close to turning around and announcing to the crowd to go back to their homes when a familiar smell appeared from nowhere. She turned and looked around to find its source and her eyes fell upon a short woman with grey hair some distance away. She was standing in front of a pewter cauldron and was holding a large wooden implement with both hands. The sweet smell was clearly coming from her pot and Lilian quickly realised where she had smelt it before. It had been the scent of the sweet drink she and Mr Attorcop had been given when they arrived in the main hut and met with Zinnia. Her mouth began to salivate with the memory of it. That must be what she’s brewing, thought Lilian as her feet carried her instinctively towards her. As she approached, the woman smiled. Her face wrinkled as she did and her small brown eyes almost disappeared from view.
“Greutzi dame, entschuldige, bitte warten.” She said, Lilian turned to Stephanie for a translation.
“You will have to wait a bit, the drink is not quite ready.”
“What is it?” asked Lilian,
“We call it Verbrann suss. It means, burnt and sweet. We make it from the berries and with cows milk.” Stephanie gestured behind the woman where a box of brown berries sat in the shade. She asked the old woman something and then went to get one.
“You must not eat too many, or else your stomach will be upset. Not everyone likes them raw but I do.” Lilian watched as she popped one quickly into her mouth and began to chew. Her expression shrivelled in bitter shock. A few of the onlookers turned away or laughed at her, aware of what she’d done and living the nasty experience again vicariously.
“Here,” she said smiling through the taste, “try one.” She threw a berry to Lilian who caught it. It was hard and brown with little white dots covering its skin. She pushed it a little and felt the hard outer surface give a little. She took a deep breath and placed it on her tongue. She felt the hard shell rattle against her teeth, but the taste was not particularly shocking, it was quite sweet in fact. A few of the onlookers leant forward in anticipation. All was fine and Lilian was starting to wonder what the fuss was about until she bit down on it hard and released the juices from the berries centre. Her first instinct was to spit it out, and if there hadn’t been so many people around she might have done just that. Her tongue was drenched in sourness, so much that her eyes instinctively closed as if she had just been hit. She began to chew the berry in the hope that it would ease the eye-watering bitterness but this only released more juices. She began to sweat as the crowd around her laughed and pointed. Her face must have been bright red, and not from embarrassment but from the sheer heat of the sweet sour flavours. At first the berry tasted nothing like the drink from the night before but as the initial burst subsided she began to appreciate the sweet flavour, like burnt sugar or honey behind the sour wall. She brushed water from her eyes and smiled back at the old woman and Stephanie as she swallowed the last of the brown berry. Stephanie’s face caught her attention, she was grinning cheekily, not her usual happy beam, but a knowing wry smile.
“What?” Asked Lilian.
“Look.” She said in almost a whisper as she pointed down to Lilian’s waist. Lilian followed her finger and came face to face with Fritha, her eyes wide with dilated pupils fixed on her. Lilian gasped a little and watched as a large purple tongue came out of Fritha’s mouth to lick her chops. Stephanie crept close and placed another berry in Lilian’s outstretched hand, the crowd had fallen silent.
“Amelia,” whispered Stephanie, “hold it over her head and move it back until she sits down.” Lilian did as she was told and held the berry high over Fritha’s head, she noticed a little drop of saliva creeping out from the side of Fritha’s mouth as she did so. She brought it up high so that Fritha had to crane her neck up to look at it and then Lilian kept going until the only way Fritha could keep an eye on the berry was to sit on her haunches.
“Good,” whispered Stephanie, “Now say ‘sit’ and give her the berry.” Lilian drew in a deep breath and confidently spoke the word.
“Sit!” she then lowered her hand and calmly fed the berry to Fritha. Everyone watched as the Feinhound took the berry quickly, chewed it in half a second, swallowed and then looked up expectantly for another. Her coat shone and shimmered in a rainbow of colour as Lilian heard cheers and applause from the crowd. Stephanie rushed over to hug her.
“Well done Amelia! We found her favourite and you’ve just taught Fritha her first lesson!” Lilian looked down at Fritha who was glowing in a deep golden coat and she could not stop smiling.
On the other side of town, Mr Attorcop, was not smiling. He had just walked into the gloomiest, smelliest and downright dingiest inn he’d ever seen. There was no bar to speak of, just a table near a wall with a few jugs of questionable looking liquid line up on the side. There were chairs and tables scattered around but every inch of furniture was covered in carvings. There was a shabby looking boar's head hung loosely on the far wall under which sat a few men playing a round of cards. Even from this distance Mr Attorcop noticed a card tucked sneakily into the back of one of their boots. A few heads turned as he entered but no one seemed to pay him much mind as he cast a quick eye over the group, hoping to spot someone who might be apparently unmissable. His gaze fell on a man who was sitting alone. He wasn’t the scruffiest of the patrons, his faded red coat might even have been splendid once upon a time, but something about him made him stand out. Mr Attorcop couldn’t quite put his finger on it but headed over to see if his hunch was correct. As he sat beside the man, he guessed that the coat might have been military issued. The man looked up in surprise, his eyes were red and he had a patchy beard. Mr Attorcop breathed in as he was about to introduce himself and immediately regretted the decision. The smell coming off this man was enough to make him wretch, he had to simultaneously suppress his breakfast and his memories of growing up near a sewer.
“Can I help you Fremder?” said the man in a gruff voice.
“I hope so. I’ve been hearing things about strange messages on walls around town. I’ve agreed to help figure out who’s been writing them.” The man snorted into his large beer mug, flecks of liquid sprayed the etchings on his table.
“And who are you? A travelling detective?” A few of the men nearby overheard the comment and laughed.
“I was just passing through and thought my outside perspective might be helpful. Apparently your nephew was the first person to see one of the messages, with your permission I’d like to speak with him. Between you and me though, I don’t see myself taking the case too seriously.” He let the comment hang in the air while he looked around pretending to soak in the atmosphere. He suddenly realised what it was about this man that felt so strange. It wasn’t that he was smelly or drunk or alone at his table. It was that unlike every single other person in Hundsberg, this man had no dog. After just a moment the fish snapped at the bait.
“And why is that?” said the old soldier.
“Hm? Oh. Well it’s just some writing on some walls isn’t it?” The old man raised his eyebrows.
“Maybe you see it as just a bit of paint, but the message itself is dangerous.” Mr Attorcop summoned his strength to lean in as close as he could get. He spoke in a low whisper, only just loud enough for the bearded man to hear him.
“Not if you agree with it.”
That night Lilian lay comfortably amongst the furs and feathers in her makeshift bed. She was looking at Fritha who was already asleep, her fur almost blending with the dark moose pelt she lay on. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Lilian thought she was sleeping a little closer to her than she had done on previous nights. She was going through the lessons they had done that day. Using a handful of the sour berries and buckets of Stephanie’s help, Lilian had managed to make Fritha sit, stay sat while Lilian backed away, come when called and for just a few seconds, Fritha had even followed her closely by her side while she walked around the square. It was slow going, but each little victory was met with applause and hugs from Stephanie and cheers from anyone looking on. Lilian had spoken with Mr Attorcop over dinner, but he hadn’t said much about his progress with the warnings. Restless and distracted Lilian tossed and turned in her covers, unable to sleep. After some time she gave up and went to go and sit by the fire pit. She realised that she had not practised fighting that day, nor had she done her morning’s attention exercises. Not wanting to fall behind in her practise again, she closed her eyes and began to breathe deeply. She felt her heart rate slow as her breathing got more rhythmic. She focused on the sound of her own breath and was soon able to extend that focus to Mr Attorcop’s breathing and even Fritha’s. She held a state of alertness in her body and found that she could hear the last of the fire’s embers hissing in the ashes. She heard sounds from outside the tent as well. Laughter in the distance from village folk who were enjoying a late evening, the hoot of an owl somewhere in the forest canopy and even the distant shushing of a breeze through leaves. The ability to hear these sounds and witness them without judgement was something Lilian was now quite used to. But, in the darkness of night, unimpaired by the glare of the sun or a groggy morning head she found that her sphere of attention could be pushed even further. With her breath slowed right down her ears could sense the scurrying of tiny feet, perhaps a rat or mouse in the ceiling above her. No, the floorboards next door? Still no. She focused on the small scratching and found it nearly 7 houses away, on a wooden beam in a gap in a wall. And there was more. The setting down of a clay cup, the intimate rustle of bed sheets, the words of a story whispered to a nearly sleeping infant. All this she heard and more, her senses freed by night she explored Hundsberg as if she was a ghost floating unseen through walls and lives. And then, she heard a new sound. Furtive footsteps carefully measured. Each step tested and weighed so that it would not strike the floor with unnecessary noise. A creeping, careful gait of one who went unwishing to be heard. But Lilian heard. She heard the creak of the leather sole, she sensed the vibration of each foot as it fell. And next to it, was another sound. A wet sound like water only thicker. It moved with each new step, sloshing and mixing in a small space. A bucket perhaps? Lilian almost moved her attention away but a question called her back. Who was fetching water at this hour? She thought. And why be so secretive? Unless… Unless it wasn’t water. Her heart quickened and with it her breathing sped up. She felt as though her attention was being sucked back, down the streets, through the door of the main hut and over the fire pit. Lilian opened her eyes as soon as she was back in her own head. Not water, she thought,
Paint!
Benlunar - Episode 13
Hounds about town.
The Roads of Alicium run through it like veins
From small paths down mountains to city built lanes
They’ll guide you home or take you away
Or make you visit village that begs you to stay
Up through the pass, down through the grass
Stick to your map, veer not from the path
Or perhaps take an unfamiliar bend
After all, the aim of the song is the tune not the end
How had she not heard it? How did it manage to sneak up on them and pounce without so much as a rustle of a leaf? Was this her journey’s end? Did she leave Benlunar and make it all this way just to die in the forest, eaten by a pack of wild dogs? Lilian was thinking all these things and more, a million questions running through her mind. But they were the wrong questions, they were questions that belonged in the past. The question she should be asking was this: why was the dog not attacking? It had managed to knock her over, it had its jaws open, poised inches from Lilian’s exposed neck, and yet it was not moving. Once Lilian realised this, she began to breathe again. They were sharp, quick breaths, the only ones she could manage in her state of shock. Slowly, the questions in her mind subsided and she was able to gather new information. She could feel the dogs hot breath on her face and she balked when she smelt it. Its mouth was so close she even felt saliva dripping from its teeth onto her skin. She craned her neck slowly to try and get a better a look at it. It was large, that much she knew from feeling the weight of it on her chest and stomach. Its coat was brown and wire haired and it had a wide forehead. It seemed to be frozen, like Kissandra was, trapped by a spell or some demonic power. But when Lilian noticed a tight cord attached to a collar around its neck, the dog’s strange behaviour began to make sense. It's beady brown eyes were fixed in a glare at her throat, the occasional blink or flicker the only betrayers of them belonging to a natural, living beast. The cord stretched behind it and into the shadows. It occasionally moved but did not slack. A similar cord stretched parallel beside it, Lillian guessed this was attached to a similar dog that must have caught Mr Attorcop off guard, just as this one had caught her. She heard his voice break the tense silence,
"Lilian? Are you alr…" he was cut off by a loud bark, loud even to Lilian. She attempted to answer him,
"I'm fine…" but her response was met by a similar shout from the animal on top of her. It's head was so close to hers the bark rang in her ears and forced her body to constrict in shocked tension.
Just then, a voice came out of the darkness. It was low and smooth with a singing, rhythmic edge. It came from the other end of the cords like a grim version of a child's game where strings are attached to bowls or cups.
"Please do not try to speak, or move." the voice spoke calmly. Lilian guessed it was a man's voice. A woman's joined it almost instantly, a lighter tone but with a similar singing accent.
"They won't hurt you unless we tell them to." Lilian was not calmed by her words. If anything, the woman's chilling detachment from the seriousness of the situation unnerved her even more. They waited a few more seconds, Lilian's chest was beginning to ache with the weight of the dog. As she began to regain composure, Lillian realised that this must be some sort of intimidation tactic. The dogs could have ripped out her throat ages ago so all this theatrical show off strength must be designed to scare her more than hurt her. Well, thought Lilian, it's worked. I'm stiff as a board and absolutely terrified. She wondered if Mr Attorcop was feeling the same way. A whistle came out of the darkness and the dog shut its mouth and instantly dismounted. Lilian breathed in deeply and sat up. She felt movement by her side and realised her hand was shaking. She looked over at Mr Attorcop and could see, even through the dim light, that he was white as a sheet. The two dogs, who looked very similar, were dutifully sat in front of them seemingly awaiting further instruction. Lilian jerked her head around to see if she could see Fritha but the Feinhound must have sensed danger and done its famous disappearing act.
Lilian heard the crunching of leaves under foot and gazed into the shadows beyond the two dogs. A man and a woman faded slowly into focus. They were both wearing dark green and brown colours that let them blend effortlessly into the forest. They could have been 10 feet off the path and Lilian wouldn't have noticed. Their camouflage was aided by cowls and masks decorated with leaves and mud. Lilian could see the man's cold blue eyes staring down at her. He held a leather ball in his right hand which was attached to a cord which he was tightly coiling around his left arm, Lillian noticed how careful and dextrous he was about keeping the cord tight as he approached. The woman beside him was doing the same thing. They both carried foot long knives in dark sheaths on their belts and bows on their backs. Lilian felt sweat forming on her brow. Were they about to get robbed? She thought about the advice her father had given her and was mentally preparing to hand over everything in her pack and pockets when Mr Attorcop spoke.
"Your hounds are very impressive." There was no response. Mr Attorcop tried again. "Apologies if we're trespassing. We were trying to stick to the main road, there's a chance that in the dying light we went astray. We mean you no harm and we thank you for calling off your dogs."
No response.
"If you have no business with us we'll be on our way."
The two mysterious rangers looked at each other and then back to Lilian and Mr Attorcop. The woman uttered a word in a language Lilian didn't understand. The two dogs stood up and Lilian winced expecting a similar attack, but they merely approached them with their noses in the air twitching and sniffing all around them. Seemingly satisfied the dogs the trotted back to their handlers and sat patiently by their sides. This confused the man.
"You carry no steel?" he enquired.
"We are scholars and travellers who have no need for weapons and who would not know what to do with them if we had them! My name is Cressido Botham and this is my niece, Amelia." Lilian shot him a sideward glance. The lies spilled from his lips as easily as ale from a tap. Lilian suddenly realised why they practised fighting with sticks each night. Nothing contradicts the phrase 'we mean you no harm' like a blade on your belt.
"We thank you for your cooperation and apologise for our rude introduction" the woman visibly relaxed and approached, dropping her cloth mask from her mouth and exposing thick brown hair and a round, smiling face with bright green, intelligent eyes.
"These woods can be dangerous places and we prefer to be safe than sorry. Are you hurt?" Lilian shook her head and looked at the man, he still wore his mask and huffed when his friend apologised.
"Normally we would have no need to stop you." She continued, "but we are very interested in your friend and we would like to show them to our community." Lilian was shocked. Why would they be interested in her? thought. Maybe they don't have red haired people in their town? She though.
"You're interested in… Me?" She asked, "Why?"
"Oh no, so sorry for the confusion. I'm sure you're lovely but we are interested in that.” She pointed to her right towards an empty spot by a small tree. Lilian thought she must have bumped her head when she got knocked over because the woman wasn’t pointing at anything. But after a second she saw Fritha open her eyes and shimmer into sight. Everybody gazed at her in amazement, including it seemed, the two dogs. They eagerly sniffed the air, desperate to understand this new creature but sure enough of their own safety not to bark or attack without prompt. Lilian sighed, that made more sense.
“How did you spot her?” She enquired. This time, it was the man that replied.
“We’ve been tracking you through the forest. We saw it when it was visible and have kept a constant eye on it since. If you look away for even a second, you could lose… her.”
“Do you have a name for her?” Asked the woman, smiling.
“Fritha.” Lilian felt Mr Attorcop glaring at her. He hadn’t exactly told her not to name the feinhound but Lilian guessed it would not have been his first decision.
“It’s a beautiful name. My name is Stephanie and this is Bardat.” She gestured to her friend who gave a surly nod, “And these are Pippin and Leonardo.” And the mention of his name, Leonardo gave a happy, high pitched yap, all animosity and aggression completely gone, it was as if Lilian was looking at a different dog from the one that had pushed her over only moments ago. Leionardo turned and marched up to Stephanie wagging his tail and occasionally looking back at Lilian.
“What’s he doing?” She asked.
“He’s asking me if it’s okay to meet you. Do you like dogs?” Lilian nodded and saw Stephanie look down and give a slight gesture towards her. Leonardo took his cue and bounded up to Lilian, his tongue hanging out as he began licking her legs for attention. Lilian giggled and bent down to stroke his ears, this calmed her. Suddenly, Fritha took a couple of steps towards them, the now familiar low chimes sounding in her throat. She seemed displeased.
“Oh, be careful!” Said Stepahnie, “I think Fritha is jealous.” Lilian smiled at the notion but then realised it made sense. Fritha did have an air of anger about her, her coat was even shifting into a dark red with white patches. Lilian stood up and backed away from Leonardo to show her that everything was alright. Leonardo didn’t seem to care.
“I’m very glad that everyone has now met properly, but if we could get back to the matter at hand.” Mr Attorcop appeared to be running out of patience, “You mentioned something about your community? Do you live in these woods?”
“For now yes.” replied Bardat. Stephanie shot him a stern look. “Please, you will come with us.”
“Of course, we are not forcing you.” Said Stephanie, “But if you follow us and you bring Fritha, we will happily give you supplies for your journey and even a bed if you wish to stay the night.” Lilian looked to Mr Attorcop for guidance. They had just picked up supplies, but they would keep an extra day. He looked down at Lilian and raised his eyebrows. She shrugged and smiled.
“Very well. What is your settlement called, so that I may place it on a map.” Mr Attorcop lifted up his pack and made to follow them.
“Our town is not on maps and we prefer it like this.” said Stephanie. “But it is called Hundsberg.”
The two forest folk took Mr Attorcop and Lilian into the trees where they avoided paths and roads for some time. The two dogs, Pippin and Leonardo led the way and Lilian guessed that they were following them to Hundsberg because there were no visible markers or beaten paths through the dense, dark wood. Lilian walked beside Stephanie with Fritha, ablaze in shimmering blue padding close by. The dogs were big but Fritha still towered over them. Lilian would occasionally reach out to try and touch her coat, but still she shied away from her hand.
“She does not know you.” Said Stephanie, observing the interaction. Lilian shook her head.
“She’s been following us for ages but I don’t know why.”
“Because she likes you.” Said Stephanie with a wink.
“How can you tell?” Stephanie thought for a second.
“Well, this is my first time seeing a Angsthund but where I come from we work a lot with dogs.” She pointed at Leonardo who’s head was currently buried in a burrow. Lilian enjoyed the way Stephanie moved and gestured as she spoke, together with her tuneful voice it reminded Lilian of when brother Thomas would conduct the church choir.
“Everyone has at least one dog, we get our first dog when we are 5 years old and so when you are always around these animals you learn how to read them. When I look at Fritha I see that she wants to be near you, but she is still unsure.” Lilian felt a pang of sorrow for Fritha.
“Hang on,” She said, “You’ve had Leonardo since you were 5??”
“Goodness no,” Laughed Stephanie, “Leo is my 3rd dog. My first dog’s name was Gumdrop.” Lilian looked up at her, eyebrows curled in a question.
“What? I was five years old ok?” Lilian laughed and bent down to pat Leonardo’s large flat back. She noticed that Mr Attorcop was falling a few feet behind them as they walked, his expression was sullen and serious. Lilian stopped walking so that he caught up with her.
“Are you alright?” She asked.
“Hm? Oh, yes. Fine.” He didn’t seem quite himself but Lilian felt it might be rude to push. She remembered Mr Attorcop’s own lesson about listening and so she joined him and waited until he spoke again.
“It’s just… that really could have been it for us. I was taken completely by surprise and was left defenceless. You could have been killed.” Lilian stayed quiet, she had thought the same thing not long ago. Mr Attorcop lowered his voice.
“In all our combat training and defence lessons, I never really mentioned that if someone decides to sneak up on you and attack from behind, there’s really nothing you can do about it. I let you down Lilian and I blame myself. I was careless and you could have been killed.” Lilian thought about this for a second, something didn’t quite add up.
“You don’t have to blame yourself. You don’t even have to worry because, well, we weren’t hurt. Yes we could have been, but we were lucky. It’s like you were saying earlier today about being in control of things. We didn’t decide to get attacked but these guys did decide to be nice to us once they saw that we meant no harm, and we had a part to play in that by not carrying any knives or bows or whatever. It’s all sort of linked and our decisions did influence our safety so if we keep making decisions like the ones we’re making now, we should be okay!” Mr Attorcop looked at Lilian as she walked. Since the day they had started training he knew that she was strong and that she would be able to hold her own in any test of physical prowess, but it seemed as though her mind was just as sharp. She had grasped the concept of determinism and applied it readily to their present situation.
“You know Lilian, just because we’re not always in direct control of what we do and what think, that doesn’t mean that our words and actions don’t have consequences.”
“I know.” Replied Lilian kicking up a clump of leaves as she walked. “We do have to be careful so as not to hurt others. I see it as a sort of ship. We can steer the ship even though the waves and tides move the water, sometimes the ship might not go where we want it to, but we still have more say in its direction than if we did nothing at all.” Mr Attorcop smiled. Back in Benlunar, a part of him had dreaded this long journey with no one but a teenage girl to talk to. But now he realised that he had underestimated Lilian Lausanne once again. Something he swore he would never do. She was becoming quite the philosopher. Perhaps, he thought, he would discuss her opinion on art and music next. He considered asking her what she thought about the two strangers that had accosted them on the road, but a strange sound interrupted his train of thought.
“Can you hear that?” Asked Lilian. Mr Attorcop nodded and slowly reached for a vial of Lunar essence he had hidden in his sleeve. The sound was coming from over a muddy ridge, for the first time in their treck through the trees, Lilian saw what looked like a pathway running up it. It was slick with mud and climbing it would prove tricky, especially if you were in a hurry. The noise grew louder as they approached, it sounded to Lilian like wailing or crying, but from a hundred voices all in different intensities. It sent shivers down her back. It wasn’t until they reached the small hill that it became clear. The voices and shouts grew more distinct and Lilian realised that it was the sound of dogs. A chorus of barks and howls grew stronger and greeted them as they crested the mound. Stephanie grabbed Lilian’s hand and helped her scramble up the last few steps, when she raised her head she was greeted by an astonishing site. Hidden amidst the trees and mud banks was a cluster of houses. They were encompassed by mud hills similar to the one Lilian was standing on so it looked as if the community was built within a large bowl. Lilian didn’t have time to count but there must have been over 100 buildings, including a large structure at the other end of the bowl that seemed to be a central church or meeting place. Although the buildings were created from mud, clay and branches, they were not dirty or unkempt. In fact, if they had been painted white or blue they would have resembled any house in the nicer parts of Benlunar. Dotted amongst the small streets were people of all ages. There were old women coming out of doorways, there were children gathered around fire pits. Every single person had a dog with them and they were all looking directly at Lilian and Mr Attorcop. The dogs were barking and howling, strangers, they seemed to shout, there are people here and we do not know them. From the crowd, a tall woman with thick brown hair and broad shoulders emerged. Trotting alongside her was a large, feral looking dog with saliva dripping off its jowls and a hungry look in its eye. She approached the muddy hill and raised her right hand and flicked it as if she was batting away a mosquito by her face. In an instant, every single dog stopped barking. The sudden silence felt eerie. It was as if she had blown out a candle and plunged the village into darkness. The torches and fires around them however were still lit and their cracking and burbling was now the only source of sound. Lilian’s eyes widened as the woman approached. She had never seen such a tall and powerful lady. If she went to Benlunar, she would easily be the tallest woman there, perhaps even the tallest person full stop. Her eyes were bright green and she wore a bear hide around her chest, tightened with leather belts and straps. Her boots were leather as well and they looked sturdy and strong. When she got within ear shot she spoke. She had the same singing accent that Stephanie and Bardat shared, but her voice was sharper and more serious.
“Stephanie,” She began, her shout sounding almost like a bark. She then started to speak in a language that Lilian didn’t understand. Her expression and tone were severe. The tone was lyrical but she spat and cracked her words with a sharp tongue. Lilian was pleased that this woman’s anger was not directed at her. Stephanie seemed close to tears when her time finally came to reply. Her back hunched and her gaze dropped, she reminded Lilian of when she was getting a telling off by her Mother. Hang on… thought Lilian, could this be? They did share the same colour eyes, Lilian noticed. Just then, she heard Stephanie say a word that she recognised, Angsthund. She had said it in the forest earlier but Lilian had forgotten to ask what it meant. At the mention of the word all eyes turned to Fritha who was at that moment, crouched behind Lilian. When Lilian moved aside to show her off a wave of whispers spread through the crowd. The tall woman’s expression softened in understanding. She said a phrase that Lilian hoped was an apology and then spoke directly to Mr Attorcop.
“Thank you for coming here. I apologise if you were taken against your wishes. Please, would you follow me and we can talk. You are welcome to stay here tonight.” She spoke with ease and surety. As with every decision made on the trip so far, Lilian looked to Mr Attorcop for the final say. He nodded and began making his way into the bowl. Lilian followed him and kept close by as they made their way through the main street of Hundsberg.
As they walked, Lilian felt a hundred pairs of eyes on her and Fritha. Some folks nodded as they past, some turned to their neighbour to whisper excitedly. Most were smiling but Lilian picked out the occasional stony faced citizen who would turn away if Lilian met their gaze. Fritha stayed close by, ignoring the multitude of dogs that sniffed at her heels as she towered past them. The tall woman, who Lilian guessed must be the head of the community, led them to the big building at the end of the main road that she had seen from the mound. The building was large and built from interlocking tree trunks, meshed together with mud and animal skins. Two large wood sculptures flanked the entrance, they looked like dogs stood upright with clearly human hands. The one on the left held a ball and the one on the right held a spear. The doorway was covered by a thick curtain which pulled back to reveal a large circular room with a fire pit in the middle. The fire was down to embers so the room was very hot as they entered. Lilian was glad for the warmth. The Summer days were generally nice but the nights still got bitterly cold at times. The tall woman gestured to some fur clad seats by the fire and the group sat down. Fritha had been nervous about entering the building, but once she was inside she found a soft spot a little way away from them to curl up and sleep. The dogs belonging to Stephanie and the rest promptly did the same. Lilian wished she could join them, the heat of the room combined with her exhaustion from walking made sleep an attractive prospect.
“Bardat, please could you fetch our guests something to drink?” The tall woman sat as she spoke, her hand mindlessly went to her side where her dog quickly found it with its ears. She began to scratch them absent-mindedly as Bardat left the room, followed by Pippin.
“My name is Zinnia. I am looking after this community right now. This is Otto.” She gestured to her dog, “Again, I am sorry if we have disturbed your journey.” She directed the sentiment to both of them, but it was Mr Attorcop who spoke first.
“That’s quite alright. I understand that it’s not everyday that you see one of these creatures.” He gestured over to Fritha who was wearing a dark purple coat and snoring softly. “We’re happy for your community to see her but I’m afraid we cannot stay long.” Zinnia thought on this for a few seconds,
“It is not just that she is rare Mr..”
“Botham.” Mr Attorcop replied, Lilian was thankful for the reminder as she had forgotten what name she was supposed to be assuming.
“Mr Bottom.” Zinnia continued, “As you can see we work very closely with animals, this has been our way of life for many years. This creature to many people here is like a sign, a message from the fates or some kind of omen. Look.” She reached into the neck line of her hide shirt and pulled out a pendant hanging from a black leather chord. She leant forward so that Lilian could see it clearly. It was a hollowed-out circle of stone with the carving of a four legged animal in its centre. The stone was a beautiful shade of blue whose colour danced in the fire light, making it seem like it was changing. Lilian saw flashes of red and yellow and was instantly reminded of Fritha’s iridescent fur.
“We see maybe 1 or two of these every 100 years and every time we see one it has heralded great change to our way of lives. It is interesting that we meet you today, of all days.”
“Why?” Asked Lilian. Zinnia let out a long and weary sigh. For the first time, Lilian noticed the dark lines under her eyes.
“It started about a month ago. The village awoke from a peaceful night. One of the children, his name is Gerhart, screamed when he saw it and the village came running. He was playing round the back of this building, I was there as quickly as I could be. We’ve washed it off now but someone in the night had written a message on the wall.” She paused her story to look up at the entrance. The curtain drew back and Bardat came in holding a few cups. Zinnia waited for him to hand them out. Lilian took the clay cup happily. It was warm to the touch, the liquid inside was dark and smelled sweet. She wondered what it was and was about to ask when she realised that interrupting Zinnia’s story might be rude. Instead she waited for Bardat to take his leave and took a sip of the warm, thick drink. It was sweet and delicious, like warm milk and honey but thicker and dark. Once Mr Attorcop had drunk deeply from his own cup, he spoke,
“What did it say, this message?” Zinnia finished her drink in one or two quick gulps and set her cup down by Otto who quickly began to lick the inside of it.
“It was a warning, the words were not in our language but we could read them. It was telling us to leave, it was saying that bad things would happen if we stayed where we are.” Mr Attorcop interrupted.
“Can you remember the exact words?” Zinnia paused to think.
“Leave this place or stay and suffer. Take your dirty ways and filthy beasts and never return.” Saying the words seemed to cause Zinnia a degree of physical pain as she winced and spat them out, as if leaving them on her tongue might poison her.
“And I see you didn’t heed the warning.” Said Mr attorcop, Zinnia was taken aback.
“Of course not. We have lived here for generations, I can’t just upheave an entire town because someone wrote some words on a wall.” Lilian was listening intently and occasionally sipping her drink.
“Did anything else happen because you decided to stay?” She asked. Zinnia nodded.
“About a week later we were all woken up again by shouts from a house down the street. The roof had caught fire and was spreading quickly.”
“Could it have been an accident?” Asked Mr Attorcop. Zinnia shrugged.
“Maybe. But the next day there was more writing on the other side of town. Someone probably started the fire and then took advantage of us being distracted to write it. This time it was ‘Get out dog people.’ Very polite.” Zinnia snorted in derision, “Since then we’ve had a couple of other incidents but nothing too serious. My fear as that they will do something drastic soon. I don’t want to have to leave this place but if we don’t find out who’s responsible soon, we may not have a choice.” She looked down at Otto who was asleep, his legs occasionally jerking as if he might be chasing something in a dream. She smiled sweetly and Lilian could see love in her eyes. She loved her canine companion and she loved her community, that much Lilian was sure of, it was so plain to see it may as well have been written on the wall. No one spoke for some time, Stephanie placed a log on the fire and Lilian watched the embers spark as the log began to catch.
“Do you have any ideas about who it could be?” She asked, “Is there a Lord nearby that owns the forest? Or a neighboring town that wants to expand?” Stephanie sat back down next to Lilian and sighed, “No one owns this forest that we know of. The nearest town is a day’s walk towards the river. It’s a small place with mills built by the water to process grain. I went with Bardat to speak with them a couple of days after the first message and they didn’t know anything about it. There’s a chance they might be lying but we have no idea why they would want us to leave. There is a small Inn by the crossroads near where we met you, but they have a good business and don’t seem to care about us.” Lilian looked over at Mr Attorcop. She had expected him to be lost in thought and staring into the embers like Zinnia was, but instead she caught him staring intensely at Zinnia’s dog, Otto.
“When we were approaching the town from the woods.” He said finally, “We could hear a lot of barking and howling from your dogs.” Zinnia nodded,
“Yes. We train them to warn us when there are strangers nearby. They have a great sense of smell and it means we don’t have to post guards.
“And yet,” continued Mr Attorcop, “Someone was able to enter the town, write messages on the walls and leave without any dogs being alerted?” Stephanie nodded,
“That’s the strange thing. The dogs have never noticed. Not once.” Mr Attorcop considered this. Zinnia interjected,
“My theory is that they mask their scent somehow. Maybe coat themselves in mud or animal fat or something like this.” Lilian considered the possibility. It certainly would take a lot of planning and experimenting to fool a town full of dogs. And then she realised something. Perhaps it was her outsiders perspective, her distance from the problem that let her see the bigger picture. She sat up straight as soon as it the idea came into her head. She looked at Mr Attorcop immediately and he seemed to have had a similar realisation.
“What is it?” asked Zinnia. Mr Attorcop gestured to Lilian for her to speak. Lilian was nervous but the more she thought about it, the more obvious it seemed.
“Well… you said that the dogs bark when they sense unknown people. What if, whoever wrote the words… what if they weren’t strangers? What if the dogs knew them?”
Benlunar - Episode 12
The Journey begins.
The Roads of Alicium run through it like veins
From small paths down mountains to city built lanes
They’ll guide you home or take you away
Or make you visit village that begs you to stay
Up through the pass, down through the grass
Stick to your map, veer not from the path
Or perhaps take an unfamiliar bend
After all, the aim of the song is the tune not the end
The morning of the departure was drenched in tears. It was a good thing that the sky was blue and bright because one more drop of water on Lilian’s face may have forced her to change her mind about the whole thing. In fairness, the tears mainly belonged to her mother who inadvertently wiped them onto her cheek with each hug and kiss. Lilian’s pack was ladened with so much bread and dried meat she barely had room for her spare clothes. She had chosen comfort over style to begin her trip to Freedos and was wearing a dark green smock over old woollen leggings that had been dyed orange many years ago. They were all held together by a thin leather belt with a beautiful brass buckle and burnt etchings of ivy leaves around the holes. It had been a parting gift from her father who handed it over to her with some advice: “I’ve never been to Freedos. I’ve barely left Benlunar but a handful of times. But then, ever since you were a baby I knew you would be braver than I. And bravery is good, but don’t be stupid. If you hear my voice, or your mother’s voice in your head warning you against something, listen to it! If you meet strangers, show them kindness. If they do not return it, show them your back, not your fist. If someone tries to rob you, give them what you have. Better to be hungry than dead. Remember to listen and ask questions. People love talking about themselves and this skill will bring you many friends. And the day, the minute no, the second you feel like coming home. You come home. You understand?” Lilian nodded. She could feel her own tears escaping now and she looked down to her side to see the cocked head of Fritha staring back at her. Her father looked at the feinhound too. “I would say don’t get into trouble, but I have no idea who in their right mind would attack you with this beast by your side. Keep it close. Treat it fairly.” The feinhound had resumed its habit of following Lilian around that morning and didn’t seem as though it was likely to stop any time soon. Lilian didn’t mind. With Fritha by her side last night, she had slept soundly. The feinhound looked at her father and he instinctively stepped back a few paces. Polly Lausanne stepped forward once more and knelt in front of her daughter. Lilian braced herself for another teary hug but instead her mother simply took her hand and looked into her eyes.
“Remember my love. When the winds and storms rage, the mountain remains still. Wherever you go, whatever happens, remember to hold the mountain in your heart, and the storm can never hurt you.” Lilian smiled and glanced up behind her mother, Benlunar peak was standing proudly against the sky. Lilian smiled and although she didn’t quite understand exactly what her mother meant, she enjoyed the image and said a little promise to herself that she would remember her parents words in the months to come.
Lilian didn’t set off up the leafy pathway to Benlunar central. Instead, she went into the trees and followed the small cliff edge round to Benlunar’s entrance from the mountain path. This was the spot where she had agreed to meet Mr Attorcop the night before, it took a little while longer to get there but it avoided the main streets and square of the town and therefore avoided any unwanted questions about Fritha. The feinhound didn’t seem to mind the walk, she was wearing her shaggy coat, which blended well with the brown leaves and earth around them and had the added advantage of making her look like a big mountain dog. Lilian didn’t know for sure that Fritha was a girl, It just felt right, and she certainly hadn’t seen any evidence pointing to the contrary. They reached Benlunar’s only entrance half an hour later and saw Mr Attorcop waiting patiently just outside the main gates. Benlunar was only accessible by road from the one mountain path making it surprisingly easy to defend should the need arise. The need however, hadn’t arisen in so long that the main gates were practically rusted into place. Although they were called gates, they looked more like large wooden doors. They had carvings of animals and plants all over them and stood several feet taller than even Mr Attorcop. Lilian waved and Mr Attorcop nodded his head in acknowledgment. As Lilian came out from the tree line she noticed that Mr Attorcop only carried a large pack, similarly filled to the brim as Lilian’s was.
“Where are your things?” She asked.
“Good morning to you too. I sent them on ahead in a caravan this morning. They should be waiting for us at my quarters when we arrive in Freedos.”
“Why aren’t we going with the caravan?”
“I’m considering stopping off a few places before reaching Freedos, the caravan would only slow us down.”
Lilian paused and took a deep breath. She turned to stare through the gates. Benlunar was just waking up, she could see curtains being drawn through tiny windows, smoke starting to seep through chimneys and as if to put a bow on the gift that was her home she began to hear the bowl bells singing from the top of the Stave Church announcing the dawn. She gazed at the spire and at the cobbled street ahead of her and she smiled.
“Right. What are we waiting for?”
It wasn’t until midway through the afternoon that they reached the valley floor. They had navigated successfully through the dark cave which acted as a shortcut for those not on horseback and had come out at the mouth on the other side, near the valley floor. Navigating the cave was simple enough, they just had to follow the small river running out from inside the mountain. The icy stream fell over rocks and boulders as they found daylight once again. Mr Attorcop remarked that the stream would soon meet others from all over the valley and they would eventually gather to become the mighty river Wyrid that ran through the centre of Freedos.
“Why don’t we find the river and take a boat to Freedos?” Asked Lilian as she picked her way over damp stones, careful not to fall.
“The water is still too shallow and quick at this altitude.”
“Altitude?” repeated Lilian, “I thought we were off the mountains now.”
“We are, but we’re still very high up compared to Freedos, which is near the ocean.” Lilian found her footing and gazed at the valley around her. The trees were in full summer greens and the sound of water trickled and burbled all around them. Lilian had been to the mouth of this cave before. Once when she was younger she visited the fields on the valley floor where Benlunar got most of its grain and fish. They were layered in tiers so that water would trickle down from one, skip one and fill the next. That what the wheat was irrigated by the water filling every other field, within which were thousands of jumping snapping fish. They were all owned by one family, the Repsons, and were one of the last stops that visitors to Benlunar would make before either heading up the main path or (if you were brave enough) into the mouth of the cave. Lilian was excited to see the fields again. She glanced over at Fritha who was lapping up some water. She noticed that Fritha’s tongue was purple which made her smile. How many more surprises do you have in store for us? She thought.
Once they reached the road again Lilian decided to tell Mr Attorcop about her strange encounter with Brother Thomas. She had been meaning to do this for some time, but things kept getting in the way. She realised though, that this long journey would give her the opportunity to learn more about him and perhaps find a satisfying answer to why someone from The Guiding Hand would want him dead. Fritha padded by their side, her coat a lustrous gold that was catching the afternoon sun and reflecting dancing lights around their feet. Birds sang as they walked and Mr Attorcop listened intently. When Lilian finished her story, about how Brother Thomas grew up on the streets of Freedos and was offered money and work by a mysterious group known as The Guiding Hand, Mr Attorcop’s brow furrowed in thought. After several minutes of silent walking he spoke,
“A few months ago I was employed by a noble woman. She asked me to help her son gain favour with the Empress. My suspicion is that she wanted them to marry. So I set about spreading a few rumours around court about her boy, I think his name was Edward.”
“What did you say?” ssked Lilian, intrigued.
“Oh the usual. Have you heard that Lord Edward saved a beggar girl from a gang of soldiers? Did you know Lord Edward has a scar on his back from fighting a lion? It doesn’t really matter what you say as long as you repeat the name enough and you talk to the right people. Not everyone has a talent for gossip but there are those in court who live for it. You tell them stories about this amazing young man and pretty soon everyone at court will be mentioning his name. I also adjusted his wardrobe and gave him some lessons in how to behave, which, by the way, I’ll need to teach you as well.” Lilian’s eyes widened and she faltered in her step. Court? She thought. I don’t want to go to court! What if someone talks to me? What would I wear?? She was just imagining being laughed at by a group of high society noblewomen when Mr Attorcop spoke again.
“Thing is, I thought I’d done rather well. Lord Edward didn’t have a natural way with words so I told him to assume the role of the silent soldier. I organised a few events at social gatherings at which he could play the part and I actually got him to speak alone with the Empress for over 20 minutes. Even I didn’t expect it to work that well. Unfortunately I had to go to Benlunar before I could learn how the meeting went. Judging by our visit from Bana House though I assume it didn’t go well.”
“You think Lord Edward’s Mother is part of The Guiding Hand?” asked Lilian.
“That’s where this all gets messy. This “Guiding Hand” nonsense, which by the way is a silly name, murkies the water quite considerably. It is of course possible that Lady Florentina is part of the group, but I have no idea why they would want to get rid of me.” Lilian walked on in silence. Fritha was ahead of them crouching low by the side of the road. Her eyes were wide as if she’d just spotted something in the grass. Lilian turned back to Mr Attorcop who was adjusting a strap on his pack.
“Why did you come to Benlunar?” Mr Attorcop replied absent mindedly.
“You know why. For my research.”
“Yes but, what are you researching exactly?”
“My word you really haven’t been paying attention have you?” Lilian blushed. From what she saw over the past few months, Mr Attorcop had been gathering leaves and plants and doing experiments on them with the lunar essence.
“I have been paying attention. You just never tell me anything! If I’m going to learn how to use essence like you then you might want to start telling me things.”
“Like what?” he replied. Lilian huffed,
“I dunno! Like. What is it? Where does it come from? How do you know how to use it? How long until it runs out? Are we in trouble if it does??” Mr Attorcop put his hands up calmly to halt the tirade of questions. Fritha pounced into the bushes and momentarily disappeared from view.
“Lilian, you need to start trusting yourself. I’m not always going to be by your side to answer every question that pops into your head. You already know the answer to most of those questions.” Lilian was taken aback.
“If I knew the answers I wouldn’t have asked the questions would I?” She ran out in front of Mr Attorcop and walked backwards for a moment. His steady pace was getting boring and she wanted to look him in the eye when he answered her.
“Very well then. I take it you remember what I said at the top of Benlunar about the natural world?” Lilian cast her mind back. She didn’t enjoy remembering that day because of how it ended, but she nodded as she recalled their conversation at the peak.
“You said we can gain power from it. And eventually manipulate it.”
“That’s right. So, in line with that way of thinking, where do you think Lunar essence comes from?”
“The natural world?”
“Yes. And you saw explicitly didn’t you? That night at the Padda Stone.”
“It was like, it came from the moon.” Mr Attorcop nodded.
“The moon certainly has something to do with its appearing. As far as I can tell, Benlunar is the only place in the world where lunar essence can be found.” As they walked, Lilian fell back into step with Mr Attorcop and the two nodded a greeting to an older man and a young woman, probably his daughter, who were leading a cart and donkey up the path towards them. Lilian was thankful for Fritha’s absence.
“Does that mean there are other types of essence?” She asked, once the strangers were out of earshot.
“Yes. I’ve heard stories of other kinds but I’ve never actually seen or held any. My theory is that they have their own set of circumstances that brings them into creation, much like what we saw with the lunar essence.”
Who taught you how to use it?” Lilian smiled as she was finally managing to piece things together.
“You know that too.” Replied Mr Attorcop. Lilian searched her memory. She was certain that she had no idea. But then something from last night popped into her head.
“Not… Mrs Thoreson?” Mr Attorcop nodded. “What!?” Lilian shouted, a few birds were disturbed from their branches and took off in shock. Lilian lowered her voice. “Does that mean she really is your Aunt?” Again, this was greeted by another nod.
“She’s actually my great Aunt. She was taught by her father. But she only taught me the very basics. I’ve spent years conducting my own research and found essence to be far more malleable and surprising than even she thought it to be.” Lilian was astounded.
“What’s a Nocta?” she asked. At this, Mr Attorcop snorted. Lilian couldn’t be sure if it was a laugh or a sign of disdain.
“Nothing. Just a silly old world for one who is in training. If you’re a boy you’re a Nocto and if you’re a girl you’re a Nocta. No one really uses the words anymore though.” Lilian quite liked the words and thought it a shame that they were no longer in use.
“Finally,” Mr Attorcop spoke again, “I’m afraid no one can answer your last two questions, not even you. I don’t know when the essence will run out and I don’t know if we will be in trouble when it does. But considering that it’s an issue and one that you quite rightly raise, what do you think the subject of my research has been of late?” Lilian thought for a second.
“You’re trying to find a way to make the essence last longer.”
“Indeed.” Replied Mr Attorcop with a somewhat serious tone. “When my great aunt was practising they only had the one bottle to keep it in. It took two years for me to find out what it was made of and I had to travel to Kerakis to have my vials forged from the same sands. I could try and make more of them but the problem would persist. Eventually, it runs out and I have to wait years for the moon to be in position again. A lot of the techniques I have developed don’t use up the Essence quickly, but that doesn’t mean the bottles can’t be lost or stolen.” Lilian looked up to see Mr Attorcop staring intently at the road ahead. He seemed to be wrestling with inner demons, his eyebrows were contorted in a scowl. “It is a most vexing issue. The worst part of it is that I cannot experiment freely with the essence for fear of using up the small supply I have.” At this point Fritha reappeared. She was a bright greeny blue and she held a dead rabbit in her mouth. Her lower eyelids were raised from holding it which made her look very self satisfied. Lilian suddenly thought of another question.
“What would you do if you had as much essence as you could carry? And that finding more was not a problem.” Mr Attorcop did not answer straight away. In fact he was quiet for some time. Finally he said,
“I’m sorry Lilian, I cannot tell you that in this moment. It’s not that I wish to keep secrets from you. Quite the opposite. It’s just that I have my own reasons for seeking power and I fear that if you knew them you might judge me.” Lilian was stunned. Why would this old man fear judgement from one as young as her? Did her opinion of him mean that much? She thought better than to push the subject. Mr Attorcop took a deep breath and spoke in a lighter tone.
“But there. I told you that you knew more than you thought. You need to start trusting your intuition and your ability to deduce information. It will help you greatly in your practises. Speaking of which, have you been practising the attention exercise I explained on the mountain? Lilian felt her face flush with colour. She had fully intended to practise but suddenly realised that she hadn’t given the exercise a second thought since walking off the mountain and into Benlunar that day. She opened her mouth to speak when Mr Attorcop rolled his eyes.
“No need for excuses. I know you’ve been going through a lot. But if you’re serious about this life and this journey we’re going to start practising again. That includes our combat. We will fight each night before sleep and we will practise attention each morning before breakfast. Whilst walking I will teach you any lessons I see relevant to your education.” Lilian agreed and the two continued to walk behind Fritha. No one had mentioned what they were going to do about the giant, colour changing animal that appeared to be joining them on this journey. But perhaps that was a problem for another day. For now, Lilian enjoyed the sunshine on her face and the thought of adventure around the corner.
The next few days they observed Mr Attorcop’s schedule to the letter. Each morning when they woke they would spend several minutes in silence, listening to and observing the world around them. Fritha at first became very confused at this behaviour. She would get extremely close to Lilian, the closest she’d ever been and sniff her while she sat. She would then jump back, hoping to provoke movement or a reaction. But after the third day she became used to it and would even sit with them while they practised. Lilian could hear her breathing and her strange, chime-like purring. During the days they would walk and Mr Attorcop would instruct Lilian on various histories or number problems. Lilian enjoyed learning about the old civilisations that came before them, the languages they spoke and customs they held. She did not enjoy her politics lessons. These seemed to exclusively consist of reasons why various people wanted each other dead. Some made sense, but others were outright ridiculous. For all their evening sparring sessions Lilian still found herself to be very much against using violence to solve problems. Mr Attorcop said that this was an admirable trait but one that would tested above all others in the coming years. Despite her desires to not want to hurt others, their nightly training sessions meant that she was getting rather good at it. They trained as the light was disappearing, meaning that the sessions would end in almost complete darkness. Mr Attorcop said it was good to train in the dark so that Lilian could get used to sensing her opponents instead of relying on them showing her their next move. If they couldn’t find sticks to fight with, they would spar with fists and Lilian would learn how to grapple, choke and twist limbs to gain advantage. She enjoyed moving and learning about the body and how it could be manipulated, but seeing as they were just training, she still never actually hit anyone. And she never beat Mr Attorcop. Not even when she thought she was getting close, right at the last minute he would twist out of her grasp and push her away or pull her into his own manoeuvre which she would then have to block or evade. Fritha would look on from the shadows, amused at these graceless apes fumbling about in the dark, not evening using their teeth!
After 2 weeks Lilian felt exhaustion starting to really set in. She had felt tired during their daily training sessions back in Benlunar but this was different. When they weren’t fighting, eating, sleeping or practising their attention they were walking and it was this ceaseless movement that was causing Lilian’s bones to ache as well as her feet being ripped to ribbons by her old, worn out boots. One day they rested by the side of a lake and Lilian caught her reflection in the water whilst getting changed. Although they had been eating well she could now see her ribs jutting out like ladder steps. Her fists were hardening, her back ached and the worst part of all of it was that Mr Attorcop barely seemed to be feeling the effects at all! Every morning he woke with the same energy from the day before and it was starting to get on Lilian’s nerves. Her own exhaustion made his habits and mannerisms annoying. She noticed how whenever he ate he would chew his food an inordinate amount of times, one bite of bread could last 40 seconds in his mouth and Lilian couldn’t stand it. It was like watching a cow eat she thought. She even found herself specifically looking away while she eat, Mr Attorcop didn’t seem to notice and if he did, he never mentioned it. The cumulative effect of the exhaustion effected her attention practise more than anything else. Each morning after breakfast when they would close their eyes to listen to the world around them, Lilian would find herself desperately trying to stop sleep from taking her over. She found that she would concentrate more on avoiding going to sleep than on the task at hand. This frustrated her as she enjoyed the attention exercise. There was another thing that bothered her. One instruction that Mr Attorcop would give each day is that she clear her mind of thoughts, or at least, notice when a thought entered her mind. But every time she closed her eyes her mind was so filled with visions of Kilde that she found it difficult to notice when one ended and new one began. She even wondered if her mind was ever clear at all between images of him lying sick on his bed, or playing in the river or sitting at their kitchen table politely eating his soup. It became so pervasive, so insistent on mind that she finally brought it up with Mr Attorcop. It was while they had stopped at an inn to buy more supplies. It was a mid sized building near a water mill, there were other travellers dotted around on large cosy chairs. It reminded Lilian of The Fox & Octopus, only more dusty and worn. Each table had traveller’s names scratched into it and the family that ran it were forever running too and fro trying to keep up with customer orders. Fritha had been instructed to wait on the side of the road, which she instantly disobeyed by dashing off into a clump of trees. Upon hearing her question, Mr Attorcop turned to her and lowered his voice.
“Yes I thought you might run into something like this. Most people do. I’m afraid there is no quick fix. The most important thing is that when you notice thoughts you do not judge them, nor yourself for having them. That would be like judging an apple tree for growing apples. Your mind is doing what comes naturally to it. You’re not in control of that.” Lilian screwed up her face in doubt.
“I’m not in control of what I’m thinking?”
“Not really.” Replied Mr Attorcop casually. “If you were, then you would be consciously deciding when to think of Kilde, instead of having the thoughts appear on their own.” He accepted a large pack of food from the proprietor of the inn and thanked him before walking back outside. Lilian was left stunned and had to run after him to catch up.
“So hang on a second. If I’m not in control of what I’m thinking, does that mean I’m in control of what I’m doing?” She found Mr Attorcop stopped at a fork in the road ahead, distracted.
“Hm? Oh. well… not really.” He looked down the road to his right, it was dotted with pot-holes and signs of decay. Several carts were being packed up outside the Inn, their owners making a similar show of inspecting the battered road ahead. Mr Attorcop then began to walk down the road to his left. This one was less worn and even had grass growing through the middle where cart wheels were yet to tread. This road extended round a grassy hill and up into a dark forest far in the distance. Lilian was almost too distracted with questions about her own autonomy to notice the decision.
“Hang on.” She said, stumbling behind him, “Isn’t that the road to Freedos?” She said, pointing back at the other way.
“That is the quickest road to Freedos. I think you’ll find most roads end up there anyway. This is the long way round.”
“Why are we going the long way round?”
“Because I’m in charge of where we’re going and I don’t want to use that road. It’s too busy and someone might spot that great big cat thing that seems to have attached itself to our party.” As if on cue Fritha appeared from the tall grass. She was dark blue and was wagging her tail as if pleased to see them.
“If we don't control our thoughts." Lilian started up again, following Mr Attorcop, 'how is it that you decided to go left instead of right?"
"I base all my decisions on the experiences I've had throughout my life. However, I have no control over their outcome. Just as i was not in control of where I was born and thus not in control of what experiences I've had in my life." Lilian's head was going round in circles. It was too early in the day for all these riddles. After a few minutes of silent contemplation, she asked,
"So we're not in control of what happens to us. We're not in control of our thoughts. What are we in control of?" Mr Attorcop didn't answer right away. But Lilian saw that he'd clearly given the question a lot of thought over the years. Possibly even since he was her age.
"One might argue that we are in control of our actions. But considering these are largely based on the outcomes of experience and thoughts this argument quickly falls down. Our bodies often dictate our actions and the times they let us down are as numerous as the stars. There really is only one thing we can control in this hectic happy painful thing we call existence and that is our reactions to things." Lilian pondered this for a while as they walked.
"Aren't your reactions based on thoughts and experiences too?" she asked.
"Initially yes." Replied Mr Attorcop, dodging around a puddle left over from a bout of rain two days prior. "But after a few seconds you can make a choice. A real choice. One that is uniquely yours. If you hear something that upsets you for example you can take a moment and then decide how you wish to feel about it. If you don't make the decision consciously, you're bound to be at the mercy of your emotions and memories." Lilian smiled as she considered this. She didn't know if it was true, but the thought of it was comforting. She watched Fritha darting in and out of the tree line beside them, her coat shimmering between colours as she vanished and reappeared, and she wondered if she was in control of the colours upon her, or did they merely react to her thoughts and experiences?
Evening fell as the road veered into the thick mass of dark barked trees. Lilian examined them as they walked, each one was at least as tall as the tallest pine on Benlunar but they’re leaves were large and dark. Because of this any light that made it through the canopy did so with difficulty and Lilian, Mr Attorcop and Fritha were soon walking in near darkness. Mr Attorcop gazed around warily.
“These trees grow so close together. I can barely see the sky. The sound is also strange.” Lilian knew what he meant immediately. She was aware of each falling leaf and footfall on the path. The wide and ridged tree trunks made it so sound could not travel far. It was eerie and quiet, like when it snows.
“Perhaps we should make camp, it’s no use continuing in this…” Mr Attorcop cut himself off as he spun round. Lilian had heard something too and instinctively looked to see where Fritha was before turning to find our what had made the noise. She barely had time to focus her eyes before she felt a heavy form crash into her, knocking the air from her lungs and landing on top of her on the forest floor. Judging by the sound of a crash nearby, Mr Attorcop had just experienced a similar fate. Lilian had closed her eyes in reaction to the hit and now lay on the floor daring not to open them. She heard breathing inches away from her face and felt hot air intermittently wash over her. Whatever it was, it wreaked of meat and decay. Lilian tried to move but the thing would shift its weight to wherever she tried to lift herself off the ground. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw that a fingers width away from her face were the protruding teeth, wet tongue and snarling throat of an enormous dog.
Benlunar - Season 2 Promo Message
A short message from Simon about the upcoming season 2! Also featuring a special announcement…
Benlunar- Episode 11
The final encounter.
Take the road up through the mystic mountains
Past the fantastic fishing fields and fountains
Three days through the Titan woods
Whose trees glare down through leafy hoods
Crawl in the darkness of the biting caves
It’s more dangerous the other ways
Then finally find yourself later or sooner
In the hidden valley town Benlunar
Cromwell Attorcop had seen many strange things in his life. This tends to happen when you take an interest in the esoteric. The weird and wonderful things that lie outside the fringes of common knowledge tend to generate bizarre encounters and brilliant stories. But in all his years he had never felt his interest and his fear so piqued as it was in this very moment. On a cool summer’s evening, just outside a funny little mountain town he found himself staring at a creature. His quizzical mind buzzed with a mixture of fear and excitement. It was big, he could tell that even from this distance. It’s head, body and teeth made it seem canine but its ears, eyes and tail contradicted this. Try as he might, he couldn’t place it. Suddenly, it began to move. It’s muscular, heavy body moved with surprising speed and grace. It took a few steps forward and put its feet into the pond in front of it. The water barely ripple as its large feet breeched the surface. It moved with purpose and without shifting its gaze from where he and Lilian stood. Lilian! Mr Attorcop’s attention suddenly snapped out of fascination and back to the danger of the present situation. Beautiful or not, they were still dealing with an unknown and potentially dangerous animal and he had a young woman under his care.
Lilian Lausanne was a few steps behind Mr Attorcop, both literally and mentally. As the Feinhound moved into the water she was still thinking about how happy she was that she wasn’t going mad and that Mr Attorcop could see it too. It wasn’t until she noticed Mr Attorcop reach into his sleeve and pull out a vial of lunar essence that she realised they might be in danger. The liquid shone brightly in the evening darkness and as Mr Attorcop removed the stopper, Lilian was able to see the feinhound’s whole body slip into the water. It kept its head above the surface and swam towards them with incredible grace. She had seen dogs playing in these ponds before and they tended to splash and ripple their way through the water as they fetched a stick or ball. The feinhound was nothing like that, in fact, it barely made the lilypads moved as its head glided towards them. It moved so smoothly that Lilian kept having to readjust her eyes to make sure she was still looking at it. By the time it reached their side of the water, Mr Attorcop had stepped in front of Lilian and dragged the unstoppered bottle through the air in front of him. Lilian had seen him do this before, when Kissandra had attacked them in his room, and just like that day Mr Attorcop placed his hand on one of the floating blobs of essence and whilst drawing it back, crafted the liquid into a silver sword. He stood in a guard position, ready to fight or run. Lilian looked around and noticed that their only means of escape would be to run to their left because behind them was the small waterfall with the Padda stone on top of it and to the right was more water. But Lilian didn’t want to run. She had run once already and now she wanted to stay and watch, to see how the feinhound moved and what it did. She knew that if it attacked, Mr Attorcop would have a plan to defend them. She edged slowly to her right and craned her neck just in time to see the feinhound emerge from the water. It’s fur glistened in the light and it stood still, watching them both.
“Lilian,” Mr Attorcop whispered to her, “Keep very still, we don’t want to make sudden movements or do anything that might surprise it.” Lilian took a deep breath in the hope of slowing her rapidly beating heart. At this distance, she could see its rib cage expand and fall as it breathed. It didn’t seem scared. It didn’t even seem angry or violent. Just… curious. Its black, dog nose rose in the air as it smelled the two strangers in front of it. It dipped its head up and down whilst smelling the air all around them. It even took a couple of steps to its left so as to get a better view of Lilian. With its large jowls and drooping skin under its eyes, Lilian thought it looked almost, goofy. Its pointed ears and size had made it seem so intimidating in the woods, but this close it was a lot more cute. Without warning the feinhound began to shake the water from its body. Its cheeks slapped against its face as it did and Lilian caught a sign of its large teeth, that reminded her to not let her guard down just yet.
What proceeded was a sort of awkward dance. The feinhound, calm as ever, would take a step towards them and Mr Attorcop would take a step back. He was wary though as to not step too far back towards the padda stone as this would leave them without a means of escape and it would distance him from the remaining lunar essence, still floating patiently in front of them. This meant that by the third of fourth tentative step forward Lilian and Mr Attorcop were almost in reach of the feinhounds large head. Lilian thought that if it was to now decide to go on its hind legs, it could probably put its front paws on Mr Attorcop’s shoulders. The atmosphere was tense, but Lilian still felt lucky. Like when you watch a thunderstorm and you see an arc of lightning not too far away. She could see the feinhound’s eyes now. They were vertically slit, like a cat’s and they were a beautiful shade of green. Its fur was currently a deep blue with flecks of black around its back legs. Lilian held her breath and prayed that it didn’t disappear. She had no idea how long they had spent watching it get closer but Mr Attorcop seemed to be relaxing.
“It doesn’t seem like it wants to attack us.” He whispered. Lilian noticed that it was glancing occasionally at his sword. Everytime it tried to step closer its eyes would dart to the blade and it would hesitate and try to find another way. Lilian had an idea,
“Put the sword away.” She said, “I don’t think it likes it.” Mr Attorcop was hesitant. By the look on his face Lilian could tell that he was torn. He probably sensed its hesitation around the sword too, but putting it away would leave them defenceless. Slowly though, Mr Attorcop brought out the vial and dipped the tip of the blade back into its opening, Lilian watched as it melted quickly back into essence. Now they were only left with the few drops hanging between them and the feinhound, Lilian could see their light reflected in its eyes. That seemed to have done the trick, because no sooner had the last of the sword’s handle been poured back into the vial, the feinhound stepped closer and began to sniff Mr Attorcop’s leg. Lilian heard low chimes coming from its throat. She feared that putting the sword away might have been a mistake as it was now clearly growling. Or at least, it was doing its version of growling. But quickly, it stopped and moved round to Lilian.
“Just let it smell you.” Mr Attorcop breathed out in relief. He was visibly relaxing now but the danger had not disappeared completely. It approached Lilian tentatively and dipped its head to sniff at her shoes and the hem of her skirt. Lilian couldn’t believe it. She felt as though she was dreaming, as though any minute her mum would touch her shoulder and she’d be back in her room. The feinhound looked up at her. She heard nothing coming from its throat but its tail began to wag ever so slightly. She smiled. She had no idea what to do or say but she smiled and looked up at Mr Attorcop. He had turned around to observe the animal and was now stood wide eyed, transfixed and Lilian even thought she saw his mouth slightly open.
“What do I do?” She asked.
“I… I don’t know.” Mr Attorcop was no help at all, thought Lilian as she turned back to the feinhound. Its fur was now dark green and the black flecks turned to white. She heard Mr Attorcop breathe in quickly. Lilian was also mesmerised. She desperately wanted to touch its fur and so, she began to raise her hand slowly towards its head. Her mother had once told her that it’s a good idea to let unfamiliar dogs smell you before touching them so she tried to move her hand towards its black, wet nose. The feinhound did lean in to smell it but backed away before she could reach out and touch it. It was then that Lilian noticed its body. She could see its ribs protruding out in bold lines. She noticed muscle and sinew down its legs too. She obviously had no idea what a healthy feinhound should look like but if this had been a large dog it would have been severely underweight. The feinhound promptly sat on its haunches and stared at both Lilian and Mr Attorcop expectantly.
“It looks hungry…” said Lilian as she watched it lick its cheeks with a slobbery, thin dark tongue. She turned to Mr Attorcop who was putting the rest of the essence back inside the tiny bottle. Once he’d finished he started to back away from her.
“I think we should head back to town Lilian. Once it sees lights and people it might head back into the woods.” Lilian wasn’t sure she wanted it to head back. With every second she gazed at its eyes they became less threatening, but she had to admit that this was probably the right thing to do.
They started walking back to town, navigating their way round the pools and puddles. Lilian turned to look at the Padda Stone one last time and noticed that the Feinhound was following them at a safe distance. This made her smile. But her grin quickly disappeared when she thought about the consequences of bringing this creature into Benlunar. People might panic, they might scream and run and frighten the poor thing. Worse still, they might remember all the sheep that have been going missing and decide to kill it. Lilian was not going to let that happen. Mr Attorcop was silent for most of the way back to Benlunar’s centre. Once the houses were so close that they could make out people moving about in the windows, he turned to look at the creature. It had followed them all the way from the padda stone ponds and it didn’t look like it was going to stop. Mr Attorcop wasn’t used to not knowing what to do. He didn’t like the feeling at all. Walking straight into town with this thing trailing behind them was out of the question. It didn’t seem aggressive but there were too many unpredictable variables when dealing with larger crowds and populated areas. Suddenly he stopped as an idea occured to him.
“Lilian, why don’t you walk over there a second, and I’ll go in the opposite direction. I want to see who its following.” Lilian nodded and began to walk to her right in the direction Mr Attorcop had pointed. She came off the path after a few steps and noticed her boots getting wet as she stepped into the grass. She turned to see Mr Attorcop walking in the opposite direction and the feinhound standing very still. It seemed reluctant to approach the town, but desperate enough to try something dangerous. Lilian watched its eyes dart between her and Mr Attorcop. It dipped its head down and its coat changed colour again. This time it became brown with a large patch of white on its chest. Lilian even noticed that its fur grew in length a little so that it now looked like a dog’s shaggy winter coat as opposed to the wiry hairs it had before. Even its ears became fluffier with little tufts of brown hair sprouting from the tips. After just a few short seconds it looked like, well from a distance anyway, a big shaggy dog. Lilian relaxed a little. If it followed them through town now, most people might just think it a stray looking for an easy meal. Once the change had completed, it moved closer to Lilian, clearly deciding she would be the one to feed it before Mr Attorcop. Lilian felt a pang of pride but reminded herself that it was probably just hungry and hedging its bets. Mr Attorcop had noted the change and the decision and in that short time had come up with a plan that should work.
“We have to assume,” He said in a loud whisper, “That it’s going to keep following you. The Thoreson house is closer and I have food there. Hopefully once its been fed it will leave us alone.” Lilian knew that risking the journey across town to her house was probably unwise so she nodded her head, turned around and started walking down the little path to her right, towards the Thoreson house. Mr Attorcop followed her, casting the occasional eye back to their mysterious pursuer. He wondered if this was the right thing to do. He had considered shouting at it, scolding and even hitting it in an attempt to make it leave them alone. But every time he considered that course of action, he remembered the large, sharp teeth hiding beneath its cheeks. For now, best to humour it and hope that it disappears. As the distance between them grew he did note that at a glance it did look just like any other large dog, he crossed his fingers that no one would decide to run up to it and inspect it closely. Mr Attorcop wasn’t quite past the shock of it all yet. He was sure that no one had ever seen or at the very least, documented such an extraordinary creature, yet here it was plodding along behind them like a common stray, sniffing at the ground whenever it past something it thought looked interesting. The hour was late so they didn’t run into many townsfolk on their journey. They narrowly managed to avoid a small group of locals coming out of a pink door and by the time they reached the Thorseson house Mr Attorcop was already trying to figure out what gave the animal its unique abilities.
Getting the creature to the house was not a problem, however, getting it through the front door was an ordeal. Simply walking in and expecting it to follow suit did not work. Whenever, Lilian and Mr Attorcop stepped past the threshold, the animal would sit down and gaze about, patiently awaiting their return.
“This won’t do.” Said Mr Attorcop, “The longer it stays out here the more chance there is of somebody seeing it.” He tried to get close to it in the hope of grabbing the fur on its back and pulling it in, but each time he got close, the creature would move a few steps away, dodging his hand at every attempt. Lilian left them to their silly game and headed for the kitchens. A couple of doors through the dining room took her into an ornate kitchen, probably the size of her entire house’s ground floor. It was eerily silent as she walked past copper ladles, large knives and worn down chopping boards on beautiful oak counters. The door to the larder was at the back, far enough away from the fireplace so that the heat didn’t warm it up. The room was small and stuck out from the side of the house so that it puposefully didn’t benefit from any heat generated from the main fires and chimneys. It was cold inside and Lilian instantly found her prize. The carcass of a large chicken sat on the side amongst various uncooked vegetables. It must have been roast that day because there was still a fair amount of meat on the bones. She tore off as much as she could and headed back out to the front door.
When she pushed the dining room door open however she almost jumped out of her skin. Mr Stepson stood there, candle in hand dressed in a blue nightgown complete with ridiculous sleeping hat. Lilian stifled a scream and then a laugh.
“Miss?” He spoke softly, he’d clearly been getting ready for bed when the noise had disturbed him, “May I ask what you are doing rummaging in the kitchen at this hour?” Lilian’s only thought was that she may have been sent on an errand so she just blurted out the first thing that came to her.
“Mr Attorcop wants…” She paused, looked down and said, “chicken.” Mr Stepson looked confused but he didn’t stop her as she pushed past him. Lilian chastised herself. She was normally excellent at coming up with excuses. It was the silly hat that threw her off she thought. Before she reached the entrance hall she threw a glance back to check that Mr Stepson wasn’t following her and when she was satisfied that he had gone back to bed she opened the door to see Mr Attorcop at his wits end.
“It won’t move!” He managed to keep control of his volume but if he had had any hair on his head he would probably have been pulling it out.
“Here look, let’s try this.” Lilian stepped out of the front door and the feinhound instantly snapped its head towards her. She didn’t go all the way over to it, but instead let it approach her. She held a piece of chicken in her outstretched hand and, although it took a moment, the feinhound eventually approached it to give it a good sniff before snapping it out of fingers. The motion was lightning quick, Lilian barely saw the flash of white teeth before the morcel of chicken was gone and the feinhound was licking its lips. Lilian stepped back and repeated the process all the way up to the front door. The feinhound became hesitant again once its feet touched the floor boards but its eyes only momentarily broke contact with the chicken to check its footing before it stepped through the door frame and into the candle lit hallway. Lilian could feel the vibrations in the floor boards as each of its large feet thudded down in step. The chicken ploy was working but Lilian was quickly running out of bait.
“In here,” She heard Mr Attorcop whisper behind her as he opened a small side door to what looked to be a boot room of some sort. Lilian guided the feinhound in amongst the musty smelling leather boots and old hunting jackets. She spotted a crossbow hung up in the corner and wondered when the last time the Thoreson family had gathered for a hunt. Probably not for many years. The room was perfect. She threw the last of the chicken bits on the floor and the feinhound shot towards them. As soon as it had finished the last piece it turned back to Lilian expectantly. Its eyes widened in sadness and Lilian was reminded once again of Ortan’s big dog, she had seen that expression before on Silky’s face whenever anyone at the Fox & Octopus fed her a scrap off their plate. Those big eyes could melt even the coldest of hearts.
“What now?” She turned to Mr Attorcop who was still holding the door open.
“Well, that was the starter, I suppose its time for the main course.” Lilian couldn’t be sure, but she thought she detected a hint of enjoyment in his voice. She smiled widely and dashed back to the kitchen. A few minutes later she came back with her hands filled with various meats and vegetables. She didn’t want to presume that it only eat chicken so she put them all down on the floor in front of the feinhound. Its eyes widened as it saw Lilian approach and its tail wagged at full speed. Even its colour and coat changed from the shaggy brown to a slick and brilliant yellow. It patiently waited for Lilian to step back before devouring the veritable buffet in front of it. Lilian and Mr Attorcop looked on, amused.
“It’s so big.” Said Mr Attorcop. Lilian felt that someone eventually had to say it out loud.
“It’s the feinhound.” She whispered. Mr Attorcop frowned in confusion.
“Yes I… I suppose it is.” The two of them paused to think about exactly what that meant.
“We’re going to have to bring it back to the woods aren’t we?” Asked Lilian.
“Yes I… I suppose we are.” They watched in silence as the Feinhound gobbled up an entire sausage, barely chewing it before moving on to a stick of broccoli.
“But… we are very lucky to be able to have this opportunity to… study such a creature, up close.” Lilian slowly turned her head up to look at Mr Attorcop.
“Yes.” She replied. “Very lucky. It would almost be a shame or a wasted opportunity if we were to let it go now.”
“Indeed.” Mr Attorcop answered quickly, “A great shame. Such a shame in fact that no one would blame us if we decided to postpone the release. For scientific purposes, you understand.”
“Of course.” Replied Lilian. She sensed a smile spread across her face. She knew that it was unfair to keep this animal locked up, but the opportunity to spend even a minute more beside it was not one she wanted to give up. She watched the feinhound wolf down a couple of cherry tomatoes, apparently it would eat pretty much anything, before sniffing the floor around it for any more scraps it might have missed. Just then, it looked up quickly and stared at the empty corridor behind them its nose twitching quickly. Half a second later Lilian heard the creak of a floorboard coming from the main staircase. Mr Attorcop must have heard it too because he instinctively shut the door to the boot room at turned to see who was walking down the stairs. The slow moving figure of an old woman was making its way down the grand staircase. She was holding a gas lamp in her right hand and didn’t seem to have noticed them. Lilian watched as she focused all of her attention from one step to the next. Although she had never met this woman before, she knew who it was. This must be Mrs Thoreson. Lilian knew that she still lived in the house but she rarely left it due to her deteriorating health. Or perhaps she just didn’t like people very much. Her hair was dark grey and she had green eyes, clearly visible even through the low light. She was wearing a blue dressing gown that looked thick and warm, probably spun from high quality wool. Lilian noticed tiny stars dotted around it When she reached the last step, she looked up and squinted towards them.
“Oh. Good evening Cromwell.” Mr Attorcop smiled.
“Good evening. I hope we didn’t wake you.” The old woman shuffled towards the dining room door shaking her head.
“No no. I can’t sleep. Can’t ever sleep these days.” She grumbled some inaudible words before stopping to look back at Lilian. “Oh.” She paused. Lilian gulped as she expected the feinhound plot to be rumbled any second. Instead, Mrs Thoreson squinted through the low light to study her. “I suppose you must be the young Nocta?” She paused expectantly, obviously waiting for Lilian to reply, but Lilian had no idea what to say. What even was a Nocta? Had she heard her correctly?
“Uh… Yes.” She replied, “I’m Lilian.” This seemed to please the old woman, her face wrinkled with a smile.
“Yes, Yes. Remember to keep practising, that’s the really hard bit. But you get used to it after a while.” She turned away as she spoke. “I suppose he’s got you running up mountains and all sorts. It is fun. I had fun with it. Anyway, I’m going to get some tea. Good night Cromwell.” She waved her hand absentmindedly as she went.
“Good night, Aunt Ina. I hope you manage to get some sleep.” Mr Attorcop replied. Lilian was taken aback. Was Ina Thoreson really Mr Attorcop’s Aunt? Or was that just a term of endearment… She was about to ask him when he whipped round to open the boot room door and check on the Feinhound. Lilian followed suit and expected it to be sitting quietly in the middle of the room, just the way they had left it. But when her gaze fell on the bare stone slabs she craned her head inside hoping to spot it hiding in a corner. She checked to her left where the coats and arrows were hung, and when she didn’t see anything she walked into the room and checked behind the door. Still nothing. Just an empty corner with some old logs piled on top of each other. She turned around to see Mr Attorcop looking just as confused. He was staring at the small window at the back of the room. Lilian looked at it too, she had noticed it when they first checked the room, it was latched shut and very small. Clearly only intended to let a bit of light into the room during the day and air out any musty smells coming from the boots. She thought that given a lot of effort, she might just about be able to squeeze through it, but it was near the ceiling and clearly hadn’t been opened or tampered with.
“There’s no way.” Lilian was shaking her head in disbelief. She turned around and then around again, each time expecting to see the feinhound walk out from behind a coat or box but there was nothing there. Had it snuck past them? She thought.
“I told you it could disappear!” She said in what could no longer be considered a whisper.
She looked at Mr Attorcop about to ask if he’d noticed anything as he was shutting the door.
He was staring at a point on the ground where the feinhound had been only moments ago. She watched as his squinting eyes widened slowly in disbelief. Lilian looked at the empty spot and then back to Mr Attorcop.
“What is it?” She asked. Mr Attorcop raised his hand and pointed silently towards the empty space on the floor.
“I don’t think it disappeared.” He said softly. Lilian looked back at the empty space. She supposed the pressure of sneaking around had finally got to Mr Attorcop and he’d lost his mind. A shame, she thought. She was about to suggest he go upstairs and get some rest when something caught her attention. The pattern of cracks on the stone slabs seemed strange. It was as if they didn’t quite fit together, like when looking at spoon bend in a glass of water. Now that she’d noticed it, other things seemed to stand out as strange as well. The stone looked to be of a different texture that the rest of the floor around it. Almost, fuzzier, less defined. She walked slowly around the spot, keeping her eyes fixed on the strange space. And that’s when she saw it. The feinhound hadn’t disappeared. It was still there. Only it was lying perfectly still, as still as the logs in the corner and its fur had taken on the colour and texture of the floor around it. This is how it must have disappeared in the forest, she thought, this is how it avoids detection. It blends in perfectly with its surroundings. If she hadn’t have studied the space, if she had just continued to look around the room and check behind doors and boxes, she would have stayed completely oblivious. Suddenly, as if it knew it had been detected, or if it sensed the disappearance of danger it stood up and opened its eyes. As it did so, Its coat changed colours again, this time to a deep black and purple. Its eyes glinted like stars against the darkness and its tail began to wag once more. Lilian turned back to look at Mr Attorcop. She didn’t know what to say. Mr Attorcop just rolled his eyes.
“All this sneaking around all the way from the Padda Stone and it decides to show us that now?” Lilian smiled and began to laugh. It really had been an extraordinary evening. As she laughed she realised that she hadn’t let herself smile like that in days. Not since their trip up to Benlunar peak. It felt good. But she also felt a strange pang of guilt. She thought about how much Kilde would have enjoyed the adventure and although she smiled, her smile was somehow shackled. Less free than it had been only a few short weeks ago.
The rest of the evening consisted of figuring out what to do with the feinhound. Keeping it under observation for longer didn’t look as it was going to be as tough a job as they’d thought. For every time Lilian left its sight, the feinhound would follow her. They experimented with locking the boot room door but after a few minutes they would hear loud scratches on the wood and the strange chiming growl. They decided to risk taking it through
Benlunar and back to Lilian’s parent’s house. Lilian knew that they would be just as fascinated as she was and with the hour well past midnight, the town would be relatively safe to traverse. This was a lucky thing too because the feinhound decided to not even bother with its shaggy brown, dog-like appearance but instead remained black and purple. Every time Lilian looked behind her she would see it, hugging the walls and corners and furtively following her home. When she reached her kitchen door she noticed that her parents were still awake, chatting over sweet smelling tea cups in the kitchen. They smiled as she walked in, her mother’s eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. Lilian knew that it was because she was leaving the next day. But she was too excited to cry, too nervous to console her parents. She let Mr Attorcop, who had come back with her, explain everything before they let the feinhound through the kitchen door and into their house. Polly and Edward Lausanne stood up in shock as the beast tentatively walked in, smelling the cupboards and sideboards as it did.
“It’s astounding.” Remarked her father, he stepped closer but the feinhound backed away.
“I don’t think it likes being touched.” Said Lilian. She looked to see how her Mum was taking this all. Polly Lausanne’s eyes were filled with tears and her mouth curved in a wide smile.
“My prayers.” She said, choking back the tears. Lilian looked at her Dad, who shrugged.
“Mum?” Asked Lilian, stepping closer. Polly grabbed her daughter and hugged her tightly. Lilian felt tear drops in her hair.
“Yesterday I went to the Stave and I asked the gods to protect you on your journey. I asked them to watch over you when you left Benlunar and to make sure you returned soon and safe. And here…” She gestured to the great beast in her tiny kitchen, which was currently sniffing the teapot, “here is the answer the gods of have given. I know it. I’m sure of it.” Lilian smiled. She wasn’t exactly sure if that’s how prayers worked, but if the feinhound made her leaving Benlunar easier for her Mother, she was happy.
Mr Attorcop left soon after, giving Lilian instructions as to how they would leave the town should the feinhound decide to follow her the next morning. That night, the creature followed Lilian into her room as she got ready for bed. Her parents had been unsure but Lilian argued that had it wanted to attack her, it had had many opportunities to do so already. Besides, attempting to put the bedroom door between her and the animal resulted in scratched paint and strange sounds. And so Lilian got into bed and watched as the feinhound, the big and beautiful beast, circled her sheepskin rug and lay down on it. As sleep took her over, a name drifted into her mind as if from a dream. A pleasant dream with a whisper carried on a warm summer wind: Fritha.
Benlunar - Episode 10
The hunters and the hunted.
Take the road up through the mystic mountains
Past the fantastic fishing fields and fountains
Three days through the Titan woods
Whose trees glare down through leafy hoods
Crawl in the darkness of the biting caves
It’s more dangerous the other ways
Then finally find yourself later or sooner
In the hidden valley town Benlunar
In the market square in front of the Stave Church in the middle of Benlunar there are many different stalls, each selling something unique, made with love and care by the stall’s owner’s. All are different but one thing many stalls have in common, is a small set of metal scales used to weigh products against a standard set of weights made by Benlunar’s own blacksmiths and measured to the standards set in the city of Freedos. The scales represent an unspoken agreement, they are so accurate that some say larger cities use scales as a symbol of justice outside their courts. The fairness and trust that these simple instruments represent can be seen as a universal language spoken all over the world. A few days ago, Lilian Lausanne had found herself transfixed by a set of these scales whilst her mother was buying oats at the market. The brass bowls reflected the summer sun and gave a satisfying clink as they hit the peuter stand signifying that balance had been found. She had found the image entering her head several times in the days to follow and each time it did, she found herself getting angry. Fairness. She would think. How could anyone believe in such a concept? Was it fair when rich children were born into rich families, and poor children starved to death? Was it fair to be accused of a crime one didn’t commit and be forced to serve the sentence? And was the world fair when disease killed a child? At these times she would curse the gods. All the high and mighty creatures on the Stave Church walls, looking down at mortals and tossing them aside like taken chess pieces. At no point did she feel this burning anger more strongly than in this moment. The moment when she was face to face with a mythical creature that her friend had so desperately wanted to see again. She felt an existential rage boil up from her belly, pushing away all the sadness that had been there only moments ago. And yet she could not look away. For it was looking back at her.
Against the backdrop of the forest floor, leaves the colour of burnt sugar crunching under its padded feet, stood an animal Lilian had never seen before. Two cat like eyes cut through the gloom and stared at her, unblinking. It had a snout, like a dog but its ears were pointy. From this distance Lilian could see its wet nostrils flaring as it drank in the evening’s scent. Its fluffy tail flicked back and forth in wariness from the back of its soft coat. It’s fur was a light brown but as soon as Lilian registered this, it flickered and changed. One moment it was brown, then it shimmered into a mossy green and then a flash of orange and for the quickest instant it was as blue as the sky had been that morning. And it was big, easily as big as Ortan’s dog, Silky, although it had a more regal way of holding itself, less slobbery and floppy. Lilian’s anger faded, replaced by wonder. She knew she ought to be scared, but she still felt too much sadness and anger. She found her breath again and began to slowly inhale as she shifted her weight to take a tentative step back. She heard a strange noise coming from the creature, which by now she knew had to be the Feinhound that they had been looking for all this time. It sounded like purring, but more metallic and melodious. It wasn’t an aggressive sound she thought, but more like the sound animals make when they want to keep you at bay. If it had been a dog, thought Lilian, it would have been a low growl. Lilian took the hint and started to step back even further. She didn’t want to, she wanted to run up to it, to touch it, to look at its fur, but life in the country growing up around the wild had taught her better than that. After 4 steps the Feinhound moved, it flattened its ears and stopped growling and crouched down close to the forest floor. At which point it promptly disappeared. Lilian stopped breathing once again. She was staring, unblinking at the spot where the Feinhound had been but she could no longer see it. She glanced left at a group of trees then right at a small thicket, hoping to see movement. But she saw nothing. Had she imagined it? She blinked several times, hoping to will it back into existence. But the light was quickly fading from the forest and the few thin streaks through the canopy from the setting sun were quickly disappearing. Lilian felt like she was trying to remember a dream upon waking. Every second that past sent the feinhound deeper into obscurity. She turned to leave, to head back to Benlunar the way she came. She hadn’t gone 20 steps however when she paused again. With every step she took, she could have sworn she could hear another step, a second or even third crunch in the leaves a few feet behind her. Lilian spun around, expecting to see the Feinhound again, but there was nothing there. She turned back and started to walk again, keeping an ear out for what she’d thought she’d heard. This time she was sure of it. With every step she took through the leaves Lilian heard a corresponding crunch coming from directly behind her. Suddenly, Lilian remembered something. She fumbled around her pockets until she found the heavy coin, her fingers touched the cold gold of the sovereign that had been given to her that night in the alley. She lifted it up to her eyeline and held it out a little to the left. The shine of the coin gave a slight reflection, and Lilian was trying to spot anything strange happening behind her as she went. She had to walk quite a way but once she’d shifted the coin enough she found what she was looking for. Sure enough, with every step she took, the leaves a few feet behind her moved. If she stopped, they stopped. She was being followed she thought. And then, her heart began to race as her common sense came crashing through her amazement. Moments earlier she had been wandering through the forest, not paying attention to anything but her own thoughts, and when she had looked up she had taken a strange and wild animal by surprise. Was it likely now then that it was following her? Or was it… hunting her?
Lilian instinctively quickened her pace. Her running made the already foggy mirror image become useless so she shoved the coin back into her pocket and broke into a run. The wind in her ears and the quick crunch of leaves as well as the sound of branches being flicked back made it impossible to tell if the footsteps were still behind her. All Lilian knew as she ran that was with each step she took, she had not been caught. And so she continued. She ran back through the forest, towards the river which she could now her in the distance. Once she reached it she splashed through it, slipping at one point and getting drenched. Once she had climbed back up the hill to her house however, she did not stop, she didn’t even give her kitchen window a second glance as she rushed past it, all the way up the path and on to Benlunar’s cobbled streets. By now her legs were heavy with exhaustion and she was taking quick, gulping breaths. She narrowly avoided bumping into a cart and donkey as she crossed the town square, the animal’s heehaw sounds echoed in the distance already as she ran up the top street, into the Stepson house, it’s heavy wooden door already open to the breeze. By the time she climbed the last few steps up to Mr Attorcop’s attic room, cursing his ridiculous choice of lodging under her breath, she was almost ready to collapse. She did in fact fall briefly to the floor, trying desperately to catch her breath as she sat against the wall, peering through her sweat stung eyes to see if Mr Attorcop was even in the room. He was. He was staring bewildered at the damp and exhausted girl that had burst through his floor unapologetically. In his hand he was holding a paper weight shaped like a spider and Lilian saw that she had interrupted him about to place it in trunk by his desk. This drew her attention to the rest of the room and she saw that it was filled with half empty boxes and bags. She turned her head to see various piles of clothes lying on the bed, some folded in neat piles. Mr Attorcop was wearing a grey tunic and black, loose fitting trousers and seemed to be in the middle of packing up his belongings.
“My dear girl, please don’t sit there, your dripping on my hat.” Lilian looked down to see that she had almost crushed a luxurious black suede hat and that there was indeed water dripping from her smock onto one of the brass buttons around the hat’s edge. She mumbled an apology and shifted herself away from it.
“What in Enoch’s name has happened to you?” Asked Mr Attorcop as he went back to packing his belongings. Lilian wanted to answer, but between breaths she could only say a few words.
“What… what are you doing?” Mr Attorcop didn’t look back at her, instead he spoke off handedly while examining a book, wondering which box to put it in.
“I’m packing of course. I did tell you I’d be leaving soon.” Lilian was taken aback. Everything these last few days had been so clouded over by what had happened to Kilde, she had forgotten that Mr Attorcop was leaving Benlunar. She realised that she hadn’t actually seen him since that night at Kilde’s house. She pushed the memory out of her mind, feeling a familiar lump appear in her throat at the very thought of it. Mr Attorcop looked up from packing.
“Lilian, I know these last few days have been difficult, but if you’re going to go mad I really wish you would tell me.” Lilian shook her head and snapped her attention back to the matter at hand. Her pulse was slowing now and her head was clearing.
“I saw it.”
“Saw what?” said Attorcop, throwing a few pages into a waste basket.
“I saw the feinhound. The thing that me and Ki… The animal I told you about, the one who’s fur we found. I saw it in the woods.”
Mr Attorcop slowly turned to look at her. He paused for a second and then walked over to where she was and sat down on the floor in front of her. Lilian almost giggled at how out of place he looked, sat cross legged like a child playing with wooden soldiers. He wore a serious expression as he spoke.
“Tell me what happened exactly.” Lilian had finally managed to slow her breathing and began to tell him everything that had just happened, she even brought out her gold sovereign to show him how she had used its shiny surface to look behind her. Mr Attorcop listened very patiently barely changing his expression as she spoke. When she finally reached the part about arriving at the Stepson house he took a deep breath and gazed at the clutter of his attic room, he seemed to be weighing what to say in his mind, ordering the words carefully like packing precious things into a trunk.
“Lilian,” He said finally, “do you know the difference between an objective and a subjective truth?” Lillian hadn’t expected this as a response to her story, she raised her eyebrows, curious as to what this had to do with mythical, disappearing dogs.
“No…” She had heard the words before but couldn’t confidently say she knew their meanings. Mr Attorcop reached behind him and grabbed a glass vial, one of the ones he’d use in his many experiments, it was a similar size to the vials of essence Lillian had seen, but not as ornate.
“You see this,” He said, holding it in front of himself, “Neither you or I or anyone observing us would argue that this vial is not here. I can see it, I can touch it I can smell what might have been inside it.” He tossed the small object between his hands, as if really making sure it was indeed real. “This vial being here with us now, that is an objective truth, meaning that it remains true for anyone and everyone, no matter who you are. With me so far?” Lillian nodded, “Good. Now, how this vile makes you feel, what it might remind you of, what it signifies to you, these things are all just as real as the vial itself, but they will be different for you and me. I have different memories or thoughts associated with this object, compared to you. That is called, a subjective truth, it IS true, but only for me, just as your subjective truths are true only for you.” Lillian still didn’t understand what this had to do with anything. Mr Attorcop threw the small bottle carelessly into a pile of cloth rags.
“This experience you’ve just had,” he continued, “There is no doubt in my mind that you did indeed witness something, that you had some sort of supernatural encounter. But I believe that it would be classed as a subjective truth, rather than an objective truth.” Lillian began to understand and she began to feel anger rise up inside her, of all the people she wanted to tell she told Mr Attorcop first because she was sure he would believe her.
“You’re saying it wasn’t real? But I saw it! Just like I’m seeing you.”
“I’m not saying that,” He reassured, “I do believe you saw something, all I’m saying is that, had I been there too, I would not have seen anything. Because when I think about all the things that constitute an animal, I remember that the ability to disappear is not one of them. It’s like when people see ghosts or have out-of-body experiences, they are true but they are not objective truths.” Lillian paused for a second. She shook her head in annoyance,
“So magical moon water and and and secret assassins and demons! They’re all real but the animal I saw today was not?” Mr Attorcop’s eyes grew concerned,
“Lillian, considering what you’ve been through, it’s not surprising that your mind would…” Lillian cut him off,
“No. Don’t say that, don’t use what happened to Kilde to make me sound like I’m going mad. I know what I saw and... and if you don’t believe me then, well, I’ll catch it, I’ll stay in Benlunar and I’ll catch it and prove it to you.” Mr Attorcop stood up.
“I’m sorry Lillian, I know this is frustrating. But as you can see…”He gestured the cluttered room, “I’m rather busy. If you would like, this evening, you and I can meet and discuss everything you been through these last few days and we can… we can say goodbye.” This stopped Lillian’s train of thought in its tracks.
“Goodbye?” She said, “What do you mean?”
“Well, I plan to leave Benlunar tomorrow or the day after at the latest. If you would like to come with me then that offer still stands. But I understand if you would rather stay here with your family. Either way, tonight you say goodbye. Either to me, or to Benlunar.”
Lillian left the Stepson house with a million more questions than when she had arrived. She wanted to continue her lessons with Mr Attorcop, but she had a lot of reasons to want to stay in Benlunar. She could help Stine, she could help her parents she could honour Kilde by trying to capture the Feinhound and prove its existence to the world. She could try and find out more about why Brother Thomas had that silver hand in his cupboard. She stopped suddenly in the market square. The setting sun was slowly turning the mountain behind her a beautiful peach colour and the last few stall holders were packing up their wares. The silver hand. What with everything that had been happening these last few weeks she had completely forgotten about it. She hadn’t even asked Mr Attorcop. She considered turning back but didn’t fancy another lecture about how she was going mad. Instead, her eyes fell on the Stave Church. It’s dark wood catching the pink light of the sky. How could something so beautiful hide a liar in its depths. Without evening thinking Lilian felt her feet move towards the Church doors. What did she have to lose? She thought. Her best friend was dead, she might be leaving the town altogether, sadness and anger drove her forward to confront Brother Thomas directly. She flung the bulky doors open as if she was about to confront the Gods themselves. And why shouldn’t she? She thought. They had taken her best friend and were refusing to provide her with answers. Their quiet images gazed down at her from the walls and tapestries as she marched into the main hall. She scowled at Kina, Goddess of the seasons in her form of a hare. The carving’s blank black eyes stared back at her, indifferent. She stormed past a statue of Liebling, the Goddess of goodness and fairness. Lilian stopped to look at the marble woman, posing with a doe in some flowers. Lillian used to love that statue, but now she wanted to push it off its plinth and watch it shatter. That would show her. Goddess of fairness, she thought, more like Goddess of…
“Lillian?” She snapped out of her spiteful trance to see Brother Thomas walking out of the back room carrying a book. Lillian didn’t know what to say, she thought that if she opened her mouth she would start shouting or crying, so she just stood in front of Liebling, fists clenched and eyes glaring.
“Lillian is everything alright?” Brother Thomas’ soft voice and compassionate manner didn’t fool her anymore. She let him speak as he approached her, his voice echoing off the walls and tall ceiling.
“I did wonder if I might see you. Thank you again for helping with the service the other day. I know that must have been difficult. How are you holding up?” Lillian said nothing, she continued to glare at him as she felt tears forcing their way into her eyes. Brother Thomas changed the subject.
“Ah. Liebling. Yes I suppose things don’t seem very fair or good these days do they? But you know, she can still be with us even when things seem terrible. Do you know why she is often seen with a doe?” Lillian finally snapped and cut him off.
“What was that silver hand?”
“Excuse me?” Brother Thomas looked genuinely confused.
“The silver hand brooch in the box. What is it? Where did you get it and what does it mean?” She had thrown off all caution, if she was going to leave Benlunar she would leave with answers or not at all. She studied Brother Thomas, his expression was fixed and quizzical. His words came out measured and careful.
“That was a gift. Many years ago I was given it as thanks for…” Lillian cut him off with a shout.
“Enough!” Her cry echoed around the hall for a long time. Brother Thomas’ face remained calm but Lillian saw his lips purse in anger. The two stared at each other. Lillian was not going to be intimidated, nor was she going to change the subject. Finally Brother Thomas sighed and walked over to a wooden bench where he sat down. Lilian did not join him. She studied him as he sat, his face looked suddenly tired as if he’d just set down a great weight. He looked back up at Lillian.
“I don’t know why you want to know about that brooch. It seems as though you’ve found out from someone or somewhere that it isn’t just a pretty piece of jewelry. Gods know how. Truth be told I should have thrown it away years ago.” He took a deep breath and sighed.
“It probably comes as no surprise to you that I wasn’t always a Church Brother. I grew up in Freedos and I come from a very poor family. Being poor in the city isn’t like being poor out here. There is no… community there. You can’t rely on friends or strangers to take care of you if you fall on hard times. Everyone is out for themselves, and those who fall behind get left behind. So when you’re born with nothing you take what you can get. Growing up I fell in with a group of people who were, let’s say, less than friendly. I worked for them and they gave me food and money in return. Good money too. Anyway, cutting a long story short I was once asked by someone outside the group to provide information on my boss. They offered me money and they wore a silver hand on their breast. For several weeks I reported to them in secret and gave them information on raids or robberies that we were planning. I figured that it didn’t matter where the money was coming from as long as it kept coming and if I was careful I could be a servant of two masters and earn double the salary. Well, that worked for a while. Luckily the group never found out but they had their suspicions. Eventually they were all arrested, even me, but I was released in secret. Anyway from then on I worked for The Guiding Hand. That’s what they called themselves.”
“Who are they?” Asked Lilian, she had approached Brother Thomas by now but still did not sit by him.
“They are a group of families, individuals, businesses all sorts. Basically rich people with nothing better to do than route out trouble and put a stop to it. They claim to stand against tyranny and guide society into prosperity through secrecy. They put a stop to tyranny if they see it and they make sure the guilty are punished.” Lillian was confused.
“They sound like good people.” She said, “Why did you leave?” Brother Thomas looked back at the statue of Liebling and the doe. He smiled.
“That’s one lesson the fables don’t teach us Lillian, but it’s one of the most important ones.”
“What?” She asked.
“Everyone thinks they are a good person. The guiding hand were no different. I’m sure that amongst its many members, there might even be some genuinely good people. But with every ounce of power, it becomes easier to justify a terrible deed.” Brother Thomas held his hands out in front of, palms up as if holding invisible weights. Lillian watched as his right hand came down, bringing his left up to meet it in the middle. Brother Thomas continued,
“Power gives you the luxury of creating your own morality. I left the hand because I didn’t agree with the means they used to justify their ends. Peace and justice are all very good, but if it comes at the cost of murder and blackmail then… well… that’s not the kind of peace I’d want to be a part of.” Brother Thomas stood up with a sigh and walked past Lillian towards the Church’s back rooms. Lillian was left alone with the Gods. She had answers now, but they had come with their own set of questions. She found herself looking towards a large tapestry depicting the Padda Stone against the Benlunar peak. None of this would have happened if she hadn’t decided to paint that silly toad, she thought. In the dim light of the hall the great stone toad looked as if it might be smiling at her. Lillian turned when she heard Brother Thomas come back. He was holding something in his hands, Lillian saw it glint as it caught the candle light. As he approached he spoke softly,
“I left Freedos and joined the Church because I was sick of having to justify bad things to myself each night as I tried to sleep. With these stories and this life to guide me, I know for sure that I can be a good person.” He held out his hands and placed the object into Lillian’s palm.
“What ever you choose to do with this, remember, the roads to good and evil are oft made of the same stone.” Lillian looked down and saw a shiny, silver brooch in the shape of a hand resting in her palm.
That evening, after Lillian had gone home to wash and change, she hid the brooch in her room among her belongings. She then sat down for dinner with her parents and told them that she would be leaving Benlunar the next day. She had made the decision on her way back from the Stave Church. In the back of her mind though she had always known that she would choose to leave. She loved Benlunar but the town was now heaped in painful reminders. She didn’t want every path or tree she saw to remind her of Kilde. In a strange way, his death made leaving Benlunar a little easier, as she didn’t feel as though she was leaving him behind and going off on adventures without him. That would have felt strange somehow. She chatted with her parents over a delicious cheese and ham pie her father had cooked for dinner and when they had finished her parents helped her pack a few things into an old bag.
Late in the evening Lillian kept her promise to meet Mr Attorcop. She kept her wits about her on the walk, just in case the Feinhound decided to conveniently show itself. The memories of the strange animal were already beginning to fade as they were mixed up with dark pasts and strange silver brooches. Her mind was on Kissandra the assassin as she stepped out of the tree line and into view of the Padda Stone where Mr Attorcop was already waiting for her. He smiled as she approached.
“It seems like years since I saw you that night, skulking around those bushes.” Lillian grinned, remembering how scared and confused she had been the night the Padda Stone had woken up. She’d grown up a lot since then and found that after everything she’d been through in the last few months, leaving Benlunar for two years, might not be so scary.
“Have you thought about what I said?” Mr Attorcop spoke softly as Lillian stood in front of him. She gazed past him, up at the Padda Stone, its serene smile still visible in the light of the stars. It was a warmer and calmer night than when she had seen the lunar essence spill from its mouth and light up the pool below.
“Yes.” She replied softly, “I want to come with you. But you knew that already didn’t you?” Mr Attorcop smiled again, Lillian thought she almost saw him laugh.
“Well I wouldn’t say I KNEW…” Lillian rolled her eyes.
“Why did you want to meet here?” She asked, looking around.
“Well I thought that if you were going to say goodbye to me this setting would provide a satisfactory sense of symmetry, and if you were saying goodbye to Benlunar then somehow this place feels more like the spirit of the town rather than any of the actual buildings.” Lillian remembered her encounter earlier that day in the Stave Church and nodded her head in agreement.
“Well, what time would you like to leave tomorrow?” she asked. Mr Attorcop raised his eyebrows,
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” He gestures behind him to the stone and the mountain. Lillian snorted, he didn’t expect her to actually say the words did he? But then she paused. Why shouldn’t she say them? This ancient statue was alive, sort of, and so it might be able to sort of appreciate it. She stepped past Mr Attorcop and gazed up at the great stone toad. She smiled and spoke softly, feeling a little self conscious as she did.
“Goodbye Padda Stone, Gorakja and goodbye Benlunar. Thank you for… the food. The fun. The family, and the friends.” She smiled and turned back to Mr Attorcop.
“How was that for satisfactory symmetry?” She looked at Mr Attorcop but he was standing still, gazing out over the pools in front of them.
“Hey come on,” She said walking over to him, “I thought that was pretty clever.” She came to a stop when she saw Mr Attorcop’s expression. His face was very still, his eyes were wide and fixed intensely ahead of him.
“Mr Attorcop?” Lillian asked, starting to worry a little, “Are you alright?” Finally after a few long and painful seconds, he spoke.
“What… in all the names of all the Gods is that?”
Lillian followed his gaze and peered into the darkness. She couldn’t be sure of what she was looking for, but after a few scans of the trees and waters ahead she saw them. A pair of large eyes were staring back at them through the gloom. Eyes, like that of a cat.
Benlunar - Episode 9
Ascension.
Take the road up through the mystic mountains
Past the fantastic fishing fields and fountains
Three days through the Titan woods
Whose trees glare down through leafy hoods
Crawl in the darkness of the biting caves
It’s more dangerous the other ways
Then finally find yourself later or sooner
In the hidden valley town Benlunar
The day in question began in a similar fashion to the days that had preceded it. Every morning for the past few weeks, Lilian awoke at dawn and ran up the mountain to train with Mr Attorcop on the stone shelf. When the time came for the visitors from Freedos to leave, Lilian had thought that she would go with them, back to the city where Mr Attorcop lived. But this did not happen. Mr Attorcop claimed that he still had work to do in Benlunar and so Lilian helped him when she could in the afternoon’s after their training. The work mostly consisted of noting down names and observations that Mr Attorcop found during his many experiments. The training itself had changed dramatically in the short time since it had begun. Without the fear of silent assassin’s creeping in the shadows, the master and student were free to work unencumbered. Once they had broken 100 sticks they moved on to hand to hand combat, incorporating kicks and holds as well learning the intricacies of the human body: which bones were easily broken and which soft tissues could be targeted and taken advantage of. In the 6th week,while looking in a mirror, Lilian noticed a change in her shoulders. They seemed somehow rounder, or broader. She found that she no longer became out of breath just by running up to the shelf, instead the exhaustion would come half way through the morning. In time, new groups of visitors arrived in Benlunar and Lilian made sure to keep a look out for any silver brooches, not having been able to gain any more information from brother Thomas about his. In the late afternoons she would wonder the woods with Kilde, setting traps baited with deer meat, or stalking foul from the bushes hoping they would attract the attention of the mysterious Feinhound. But even this past time, with its promise of magic and mystery, grew monotonous and soon became a once-a-week activity rather than an everyday occurrence.
When the day in question arrived, Summer was in full swing, which for Benlunar meant that it was a cool morning which would be followed by a hot afternoon. The Snow on top of the mountain had almost all disappeared and Lilian arrived on the stone shelf at the usual hour only to find it empty. This wasn’t unusual, Lilian often arrived before Mr Attorcop and whenever she did she would normally start stretching and warming up her body before his arrival. Today however, she decided to postpone warming up in favour of gazing out over the valley. The trees were in full bloom and it had rained the day before which meant the view was as clear as it could get. Without any cloud or mist, Lilian noticed that from the stone shelf she could see the end of the valley, where the mountains became hills and the hills became fields. She had never travelled as far as that in all her life but she knew that the fields belonged to another settlement that was nestled somewhere in the hills. Lilian turned round at the sound of footsteps behind her.
“My apologies Lilian,” Mr Attorcop was walking towards her carrying a large pack, “I was busy finding us some supplies.”
“Supplies?” enquire Lilian, “Where are we going?” Mr Attorcop turned around and pointed upwards.
“Up there.” Lilian followed his gaze to the mountain’s peak and her heart leapt, today would be a perfect day for the hike. She smiled widely and almost ran past Mr Attorcop in excitement.
“Alright, alright slow down now. If we’re going to do this we need to be slow and deliberate, we’ll set a steady pace and stick to it and we should reach the peak by early afternoon.” Lilian agreed and lead the way back to the path marker only instead of going down their usual route back to town, she turned uphill and set off for the next pile of stones that signalled the way to the Benlunar peak.
With each step up the air became thinner and after 2 hours Lilian could feel the altitude sickness setting in. They had left paths and path markers far behind and were now inching their ways across narrow ridges, constantly watching for loose rocks, one slip up here and one would not stop falling for a very long time. Luckily the route was well trodden and Lilian knew exactly which rocks to hold on to and which ones might let you down. Occasionally she would stop to observe the view and catch her breath, the latter being surprisingly difficult as the oxygen near the peak was very thin. Even Mr Attorcop, who normally made any physical activity seem easy, seemed to be struggling with the lack of air. Whenever they found a suitable outcrop or flat surface they would stop and drink water from Attorcop’s pack. Finally, in the early afternoon Lilian hauled herself over a boulder to see the peak only a few steps away. The child in her wanted to run towards it and claim herself to be the winner of the race, but common sense and fatigue slowed her down to a steady climb.
The peak of Benlunar mountain was, in every sense of the word, a breathtaking place. Any conversation, no matter how fascinating, died when travellers reached the top. From here, Lilian could see in all directions, she even looked down on the peaks of other mountains in the distance. The trees down below stretched out until the world curved them out of sight. By her feet, she noticed a small pile of stones, a path marker like those that had lead the way, only a lot smaller due to the lack of visitors. Mr Attorcop joined her on the small surface that made up the top of the mountain and handed her a flat rock he must have picked up moments earlier. Lilian smiled and symbolically placed it on the pile.
“There.” she said, “What do you think?” Mr Attorcop was at a loss. He simply breathed in a deep breath, smiled and nodded and finally said,
"Yes. I think this will do nicely.”
“Nicely for what?” Replied Lilian.
“Sit.” Mr Attorcop sat down and motioned for Lilian to sit opposite him. He took the pack from his back and rummaged around inside whilst admiring the view. He pulled out some bread and cheese wrapped in wax cloth as well as two apples and some grapes. The two ate in silence for some time, catching their breath and enjoying the expansive scenery. Finally, Mr Attorcop spoke.
“Do you remember when we were crouched behind that bush in the fog? The day Kissandra followed our trail up the mountain?” Lilian nodded, she did remember, she remembered being unable to see through the thick mist and the spiders crawling across the forest floor. She listened as Mr Attorcop continued,
“What do you remember feeling and thinking when we were hiding?” He took a final bite of his apple before wrapping the core in the wax cloth.
“I remember being scared, I remember it was hard to breathe because I didn’t want to make a sound, I was just listening and I remember feeling… I dunno, helpless I suppose.” Mr Attorcop nodded and shifted his feet under him so that he was sat cross legged with a straight back with his hands in his lap. He motioned for Lilian to copy him, which she did.
“I want you to close your eyes and take a deep breath.” Lilian did as she was asked. She felt the cold air breeze through her hair, she shut her eyes and breathed it in, its scentless chill filled her lungs. She breathed out and felt the tension from the morning’s hike melt into the wind.
“I want you to keep breathing, slowly and deeply, allowing your body to relax as you do. At the same time, I want you to recall your state of mind that day in the fog. Remember what it felt like to have your ears straining to hear the slightest sound. It’s the same state you might find yourself in if you wake up in the night and you hear a noise that you can’t identify, and for a few seconds you keep very still and try to listen out for it again.”
Lilian thought she understood the feeling Mr Attorcop was describing. She felt her ears move as well as her nostrils widen.
“Don’t forget to pair this with the breath.” He reminded her, “Without this you’ll tense up and stop breathing, the goal here is to be in two states at once. One is constant and relaxed, achieved through regular deep breathing, the other is one of hyper attention. Both of these together will root you in the present moment. In this state, I want you to tell me what you can hear.” Lilian’s first instinct was to say, ‘nothing’, because up on the highest peak in the region, there really was very little noise. The silence was almost eerie considering the plethora of sights. But Lilian concentrated, and breathed deeply and put herself as best she could in the state of increased attention. At first all she heard was the breeze in her ears but then she realised that that sort of qualified as a sound, so she said,
“I can hear the breeze.”
“Breeze does not make a sound. Air only makes a sound if it hits something, what is the breeze hitting?”
“My ears.” Replied Lilian, wondering if she was making some sort of mistake.
“What else?” Said Mr Attorcop. Lilian paused for a second.
“My hair. I can hear my hair moving around.”
“Good.” Said Mr Attorcop, “Now you’ve got a ball of attention around your head, I want you to widen the ball, make it big enough to encompass the mountain top where we’re sat. What else can you hear?” Again, Lilian paused and listened before answering.
“I can hear you breathing. I can hear your clothes move when you do. I just heard a rock or a pebble fall I think. It was a little sound behind me.” Lilian strained now, trying to push her attention outward to the whole area around her. It required a shift in perspective, she started leaning in to try and hear smaller and smaller sounds, sounds that might be coming from very far away.
“I can hear a bird screeching. It’s far down below us I think. I can hear the wind in the trees. There’s another sound too, maybe water? I think there’s a stream nearby, maybe a spring, it’s very faint.” Lilian continued to play this listening game. She found it incredible how only moments ago she had been filtering out these sounds as unimportant but now that she was paying attention to them, more and more were making themselves known. Somewhere nearby, an insect was flying around, she shifted her attention again to find that Mr Attorcop was moving some metal on his person every time he breathed, she could hear its soft and regular clink, keys or perhaps a chain she thought. She felt a smile on her lips as she widened her attention to the valley below. Echoing somewhere far below she could hear water, faster than the spring nearby but still as unmistakable. She wondered if she could hear anything coming from Benlunar town but no matter how hard she tried, that part of the valley seemed hidden, too far and too quiet to be detected right now. After some time she opened her eyes. Mr Attorcop was watching her.
“I could hear loads!” She exclaimed, beaming.
“Good, it is rare, almost impossible to shut one’s eyes and never be able to hear anything at all. This is an excellent place to demonstrate that. Over the next few weeks, I want you to take a few minutes 3 or 4 times a day to close your eyes and practise this.”
“Why?” Asked Lilian.
“Well if we want to get to a point where we can manipulate the natural world, we have to be able to be in tune with it.” Lilian’s heart leapt,
“Does that mean?” She started, eyes widening in excitement, “Does that mean you’re going to teach me how to do…” She wanted to say ‘magic’ but remembered how Mr Attorcop felt about that word.
“Still haven’t come up with a better name have you?” He said, knowingly, “Yes Lilian. You’ve progressed very well with your defense and attack and hopefully the training has placed you more in your body, meaning that combining it with this awareness practise you will in time come to see how your body and thoughts can gain power from and influence the natural world.”
“Will I be able to use the lunar essence?”
“I expect so, although I have no idea when you’ll be ready.” Mr Attorcop stood up as he spoke and Lillian followed him.
“How do I know when I’m ready?”
“I’m sure I’ll tell you.” He replied, picking up his pack from the floor. This frustrated Lillian, she wanted to try using it now, today, on top of this mountain. Mr Attorcop must have sensed her impatience.
“Look here Lillian,” He walked over to the steepest edge of the mountain and pointed down, Lillian joined him and felt her stomach knot as she looked over the edge. A strange sensation crept into her legs, like they might give out at any second. Lillian looked straight down into the thick spiky trees below.
“There are several ways off this peak,” Said Mr Attorcop pointing straight down, “And this is one of them. Another is a slow descent back the way we came. Both paths would take you to the bottom, but I’m sure I know which one you’d rather pick.” Lillian gulped and instinctively took a step back to relative safety, “If I gave you the essence now, it would be the equivalent of me pushing you off this mountain. You’d get what you want, but at a price you’re probably unwilling to pay. Now, follow me, we’re going to head back down. And please listen and take note of your surroundings as we go.”
As they made their way down the mountain, Lilian opened her eyes and ears to the world around her. Every insect that flew past she would turn to follow and see which flower it would land on as well as noting the pitch of the sound its wings made. She found herself hearing water in the distance and underground. She noticed how the breeze through pine needles sounded different to the breeze through birch leaves and the shadows they made on the stone paths were as different and beautiful as the trees themselves. As the reached the mountain path she widened her attention to encompass the entire mountain. She felt small and reassuringly insignificant in its presence. Her entire village had been born and would die and disappear in the time it would take this mountain to move an inch. Next to its glorious immortality, her problems and worries disappeared into meagre oblivion. She breathed easier now that they were approaching the stone shelf and she wondered if she might be able to live like this forever. In constant vigilance and presence of mind, seeing without judgement and living without past or future. Just the sun’s rays warming her face and the sound of nature all around her. But Lilian knew that sooner or later the future would bring concern and the past would present resentment but for now, these didn’t matter and when Benlunar town appeared in front of her, she smiled as if seeing an old friend after many months apart.
Mr Attorcop had said very little on their way down but when they got to the Thoreson house he turned to Lilian to say goodbye for the day.
“I enjoyed that,” He mused, “we don’t have any mountains near Freedos so I like to climb it whenever I’m here.”
“How many times have you been to Benlunar?” Asked Lilian.
“Oh countless. I find it the perfect place to escape the inane institutions and customs of the city. But I will probably be heading back to Freedos this week, or the next.” Lilian was shocked, she knew Mr Attorcop would be leaving eventually, but this news still surprised her. She noticed him looking at her, his eyebrows raised as if asking a question.
“If you wish for our lessons to continue, you will have to come with me. I would also greatly appreciate your help with my work in Freedos. I often find myself having to be in two places at once and with someone helping me I might actually be able to achieve this. I know you’ve probably been giving this much thought, but rest assured, I plan on coming back to Benlunar in a couple of years.” Two years, thought Lilian. Two years away from her parents. Two years away from all of this. Lilian didn’t know if she was ready for that. When Mr Attorcop opened the front door of the Thoresen house Lilian was surprised to see her Mother in the main hall talking to Mr Stepson. When they heard the door open they both looked up and seemed relieved to see Mr Attorcop walking in. Lilian’s mother rushed over to them.
“Lilian, where have you been?” She seemed panicked and stressed, her worry almost bleeding into anger.
“We climbed the mountain…” Lilian mumbled a response but it didn’t seem like her mother was really expecting an answer as she turned quickly to Mr Attorcop.
“Mr Attorcop,” She said imploringly, “Please can you help? A friend of mine, her son is sick, Our local doctor is there but he says he doesn’t have what he needs to help. I thought of you because, well Lilian says you’re a scientist.” Mr Attorcop approached her slowly and spoke in a soothing voice.
“Of course Mrs Lausanne, I will do what I can. Just let me head up to my quarters and fetch some things, I’ll meet you there, Lilian can show me the way.” He broke off into a run and took the stairs two at a time. Lilian’s Mum turned to her and Lilian finally asked the question that had been gnawing at her.
“Who is it Mum?”
“Oh my love,” She replied, “I don’t know how bad it is but Stine is worried.” Lilian knew that name. Stine. Stine Vichas was Kilde’s mother. Lilian pushed panic aside and steeled herself.
“Go and get them some fresh water and we’ll meet you there.” Lilian’s Mum was taken aback. Who was this confident woman, she thought? Where is my little Lilian? It was strangely at the same time that she realised that Lilian was not on a step or stood on a chair her but was looking at her at eye level from the same carpeted floor. How had she not noticed this new height until now?
“Go.” Repeated Lilian and Polly Lausanne was shocked into action. Lilian wanted to follow her but knew she had to stay. For a second, a silence descended on the wooden walled, carpeted corridor. Lilian found her feet shifting, as if on their own, into the locked defensive stance that Mr Attorcop had forced them into time and again when preparing her for a fight. Right leg in front, toes pointed slightly inwards, left leg behind, ready to send the body forward or receive weight if the body is pushed back. She was ready and waiting. She glanced towards the large and ornate staircase with its carved bannisters. Mr Stepson was still there. Stood in silence and waiting as patiently as Lilian. The two made eye contact but knew that no words needed to be exchanged. Now was not the time for talk.
After about a minute and a half Lilian heard the sounds of Mr Attorcop rushing down the stairs, he appeared at the top of the main staircase clutching a black bag that clinked and rattled with each step. As he approached Lilian he waved his hand out in front of him signalling her to exit and lead him to where he was needed. The pair paced their way through Benlunar, breaking into a jog whenever they weren’t impeded by people or narrow streets. Lilian lead the way, taking every shortcut she knew so that they could get to the back of the trade’s quarter and into Kilde’s house as quickly as possible.
The Vichas house was small, and the wooden front door with a metal ring knocker opened easily when pushed. Mr Attorcop ducked his head, rushed past Lilian and went through the small front room with its dining table and wood stove and headed to the door at the back where Lilian could hear voices. She knew this to be Kilde’s room and she followed Mr Attorcop to the door. As he opened and stepped inside, Lilian caught a glimpse of her friend lying in his bed, it was only a glimpse however as at that moment, her mother stepped out and blocked her path. Her voice was low and quick,
“It’s getting a bit crowded my love. Let's step outside.”
“I want to see him.” Argued Lilian but her mother’s tight grip on her shirt forced her back. Lilian looked through the crack in the doorway as it closed and noticed how pale her friend looked. His eyes were closed and his Mum was by his side, gripping his hand. Lilian felt angry as her way to him was blocked, she almost turned to shout at her Mum but caught herself before she did. It was true, she thought. She wouldn’t be any help in there. Best leave it to Mr Attorcop. She began to pace around the small front room.
“What happened?” She asked her Mum, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb.
“I’m not sure. Stine came round this morning saying Kilde had been sick in the night and asking if we had any ginger. I gave her some and didn’t think much of it. But later I went round with some mint water and some honey and he’d gotten worse. He wasn’t speaking and kept fainting so I went to get Mr Rumex and he gave him…” Her speech faltered, she was still in shock. “He gave him some tincture but it doesn’t seem to have helped.” Lilian’s head was racing. She took a deep breath to calm herself. This was a tough situation, she thought, but nothing that Kilde couldn’t handle. Lilian remembered the time that she’d promised him 6 silver bits if he ate a worm. She watched him do it so quickly that she regretted offering so much. He probably would have eaten it for a copper head and a good story and would have still been absolutely fine and healthy. He was a fighter. A scrappy little prince who wouldn’t hurt a bee if it stung him.
“I don’t understand.” She said out loud, almost without realising it. “I saw him two days ago and he was fine.” Lilian’s mother looked up from where she was now sat at the table. She didn’t know what to say, for all her height and confident manner, her daughter was still so young. Polly Lausanne had known more of sickness, more of injuries and the dangers of infection. And she also knew that sometimes, these things came without reason and without explanation and it was in these times that she put her trust in the decision of Gods and their strange ways.
“Lilian,” she whispered. “Come, sit with me.”
The two women sat, mostly in silence. They waited and listened and patiently. They sat like this for the best part of the evening, listening to the occasional murmured voice and soft step from the room at the back of the house. Lilian felt helpless and impotent. More than once she felt anger rise inside her but quickly remembered how being angry rarely helped anyone. Finally, Mr Attorcop stepped out of the room, wiping sweat from his brow.
“He’s awake.” He said softly and Lilian didn’t wait for another word before standing up and brushing past him into Kilde’s room. The atmosphere inside was tense and still. Lilian edged slowly towards Kilde’s small bed. Her friend was still very pale but his eyes were open and he was looking at his mother. As Lilian approached he turned to look at her. A small smile crept across his lips. His mother, Stine, spoke first.
“He needs rest. So maybe just a quick word.” Lilian nodded in understanding and knelt down so as to be closer to him. It was if she was looking at different boy. A boy with red around his eyes and sweat streaking his hair back from his face. It was only his smile, and his eyes that told Lilian that this was indeed Kilde.
“Hi Lily.” His voice came through softly.
“Hey.” Lilian wasn’t sure what to say so she put her hand over his, it was cold to the touch, despite the heat of the room.
“I’m not feeling too good.” Whispered Kilde.
“That’s okay.” She replied, “you just sleep and rest. And… and… and we’ll go down to the river in the morning.” Kilde smiled and nodded. His eyes closed for a second and then reopened. He looked at Lilian as if noticing her again. He smiled. And Lilian smiled back, happy that she was making him happy for he was always making her smile, even now.
“I’ll rest.” He spoke again, very softly now.
“Yes.” Said Lilian, “You rest. You rest now and then I’ll come see you tomorrow.” Lilian thought she saw a small nod but it may have just been Kilde relaxing into his pillow. Lilian looked at his mother and smiled as she got up to leave.
That night Lilian had trouble sleeping. She tossed and turned in her bed, throwing off her cover only to go and get it. She must have finally found some sleep however as she woke up from a dream when her Mum opened her bedroom door. It was still dark but the moon was shedding some light through her bedroom window. The cold glow of the moon was all she needed to see the shape of her mother open her door and step slowly into her room. Lilian sat up in confusion as she watched her mother approach her bed and sit beside her. As she sat, the moon’s light fell on her face and Lilian could see tears glistening in the darkness. Why was she crying? Thought Lilian, still half asleep. But then she knew. And when she knew, her vision blurred with her own tears and she felt her mother’s warm embrace as she wept and wept until morning.
Lilian Lausanne woke up a few days later, the memories of church services and traditional burials rushing around her head. She awoke to find a now familiar weight on her chest. A crushing sadness keeping her from getting out of bed. It had been like this every morning since that night. Lilian did not have the energy to run up mountain paths, or practise fighting bearded teachers. She did not want to eat. She did not want to speak. The only thing motivating her to get out of bed was a desire to help Stine and her Mum, she did not want them to have to deal with everything alone, so she volunteered to spread the word, as well as help Brother Thomas with the service. But as soon as her daily duties were done Lilian would walk away from Benlunar. Sometimes she would visit the Padda Stone, sometimes she would walk through the forests and return home after the sun had gone down beyond the horizon. Today would be no different. After managing to eat a little lunch that her Mum and Dad had prepared, she went over to Stine’s house to ask if anything needed doing. But when her knocking got no reply she found herself walking towards the river a little earlier than usual. She wanted to keep moving. Stillness allowed unwanted thoughts and memories to creep in, she found that as long as she kept walking she could focus on her steps rather than her sadness. She could walk for hours like this, and more than once in the past few days had she found herself looking up at unfamiliar surroundings and having to trace her steps back to town. Lilian walked like this now. As if she was at the bottom of an ocean, grief pushing all other emotions away. She saw leaves under her feet and dodged tree trunks that interrupted her path. It was here, in the deepest pit of sorrow, here in the darkest depths she had known in all her years it was here where all fear and fun had left her. It was here she first met the Feinhound.
Benlunar - Episode 8
In suspicious circles.
Take the road up through the mystic mountains
Past the fantastic fishing fields and fountains
Three days through the Titan woods
Whose trees glare down through leafy hoods
Crawl in the darkness of the biting caves
It’s more dangerous the other ways
Then finally find yourself later or sooner
In the hidden valley town Benlunar
“Lilian?” Brother Thomas’ voice came from far away. It was audible, but somehow quiet and unimportant. The way the constant sound of the breeze might get filtered out of one’s attention. Lilian knew she should reply but currently had so many questions running through her head that she was busy figuring out which one to address first. The cold weight of the silver brooch in her hand was pulling her thoughts in like a magnet. In a split second, she weighed up her options, she wanted to know why Brother Thomas had an identical brooch to that of the woman who only that morning had tried to assassinate her mentor but she didn’t want to reveal too much about her role in the events. As the small room at the back of Benlunar’s Stave Church came back into focus, she realised that she must have been staring at the brooch for a suspiciously long time. Lilian had to think of something quickly,
“This is nice.” She said, holding the brooch up in front of her. She checked it again to see whether it was indeed identical to the one she’d seen on the cloak of Kissandra the hired killer. There was no doubt. Everything from the arrangement of the fingers, to the polish of the silver was similar to the one she’d seen. Brother Thomas held the box from which it had fallen open in front of him as if to receive it. When he spoke, Lilian paid close attention to his every word and mannerism, hoping he might accidentally reveal something,
“Yes. My uncle gave me that. I don’t wear it anymore though, a bit garish for a church brother’s robes don’t you think?” Lilian placed the brooch back in the box and quickly picked another question,
“I feel like I’ve seen brooches like this before. Maybe one of the tourists from Freedos was wearing one?”
“It’s very possible.” Replied Brother Thomas, turning away to put the box back on the shelf it had fallen from. There was nothing in his reactions that suggested to Lilian any hint of secrecy or wrongdoing, but she couldn’t help but see Brother Thomas in a very different light from only moments before. She began to think back to when she first met him, she had only been a child then, probably around 3 or 4 years old. She didn’t remember much of his arrival in Benlunar, but she did know that he did not grow up in the village. In which case, she thought, who had he been before he arrived? And why did he choose Benlunar in particular to make his home? She didn’t want to push her luck with more questions, but she also didn’t want to drop the subject, making her bringing it up at any later date seem more suspicious. She decided upon a different tactic.
“My parents don’t let me wear jewelry like that.” To add to the innoquous nature of the statement Lilian coupled it with a relaxed gaze around the room, she even briefly considered sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, putting her feet up as if she was in her own room.
“Well I’m sure they have their reasons. Something like that is quite valuable and they might worry you would lose it or worse, someone might try and take it from you. Now, I’m sorry to be rude, but I have a few more things to prepare before tonight’s service.” Lilian turned towards the door, in the few steps towards it she wondered if this was Brother Thomas changing the subject. As she reached the doorway she knew she had one more opportunity to ask about the brooch before her persistence became suspicious. She turned and, in her most relaxed tone possible, said,
“Where do you think I could find a brooch like that?” She watched Brother Thomas turn back to her with his small smile fixed on his face. Before he spoke however, he paused. To anyone watching the scene they would not have noticed it, but Lilian saw that for a fraction of a moment Brother Thomas did not know how to answer the question. He simply smiled, breathed in and then answered ever so slightly too late,
“I’m afraid I don’t know. Silver is heavy and clunky though, much more suited to the city. Besides, I prefer the amber jewelry made here in Benlunar, don’t you?” Lilian smiled in agreement, said goodbye and then left the room. As she walked through the church’s main hall, her footsteps echoing off the stone slabs one thought repeated itself over and over in her head. He’s hiding something.
That evening Lilian and her parents visited the Stave Church for the service. They had insisted on making her wear one of her least favourite dresses. A pale green thing that barely fit but that was made for her by Kilde’s mother. Apparently she had hinted a few days ago that she had never seen Lilian wear it so here she was fulfilling her neighbourly duty, one ugly dress at a time. Lilian would normally have put up much more of a fight against wearing the dress but she had more important things on her mind. As the Benlunar locals and the visitors from Freedos mingled and took their seats in the Church hall, Lilian kept an eye out for any suspicious activity. She spotted Mr Attorcop who was too busy talking to the woman next to him to pay her any attention. The stalls and seats in Stave Churches were conveniently laid out in a large circle. It was supposed to represent community or togetherness but Lilian found it most useful when having to spy on everyone around her without having to crane her neck. She spotted the man in orange, the judge that Mr Attorcop had helped a few days ago. This time though he wasn’t wearing orange, but instead was dressed in a wonderful blue doublet decorated with pearls and what Lilian thought must have been dried flowers. Lilian and her parents took seats on the third tier round to the left as they entered the hall. This was where they usually sat for Church services, only they weren’t usually surrounded by outsiders, like the young couple behind them dressed in matching grey or the elderly man to their right who sported a rather fantastic looking feather in his hat. There were a lot more visitors in attendance than Lilian had thought there would be, Brother Thomas would be pleased she thought.
Just as everyone found their seats, the echoing murmurs died down and Brother Thomas entered the central space and addressed the crowd. He was wearing formal Church Robes and greeted everyone with his signature smile and welcoming nature. The circular hall and the wooden walls meant that he did not have to raise his voice very much to be heard.
“Friends new and old,” he began, “I would like to welcome you to tonight’s gathering, which I see as a celebration of connection. For hundreds of years Benlunar has been host to visitors from around the world, each come for a different reason, and it is our pleasure to welcome them all and try our very best to make sure their stay is enjoyable…”
Lilian began to feel tired. Perhaps it was her body’s natural reaction to sitting and listening to someone talk, or perhaps the rigours training was finally catching up with her. What ever it was, she had trouble keeping her eyes open almost as soon as Brother Thomas began to speak. If it hadn’t been for that afternoon’s discovery, she may have succumbed to her tiredness and drifted off as she had done in this church so many times before. But now she paid extra attention to Brother Thomas’ words as well as his manner. It was as if she was looking at one of Benlunar’s many tourists, a new man she had yet to meet and talk with.
“If your God is not depicted on these walls or in our songs,” he continued, “please do not let that make you feel unwelcome. Our Gods are closely connected to our stories and the world around us but that does not mean we cannot learn from your stories and your experiences and indeed, your Gods.”
Gaining nothing of interest from Brother Thomas, Lilian decided to scan the crowd around her. She was looking for silver brooches, for suspicious faces or for anything that might be out of the ordinary. But after wondering if a man sat on the back row opposite her was signalling to someone or merely picking his nose, Lilian realised that she was probably just bored.
It was half way through the local choir’s first song, just before Lilian was about to shut her eyes and settle into a cosy sleep, when she noticed it. A dark haired woman, in a deep blue gown and a fur stole glanced directly at Lilian, looked back at the choir, and then moments later, glanced again. Lilian had caught eyes with her when everyone had sat down earlier, but she assumed that this was merely because everyone was looking at everyone else. The woman was sat to Lilian’s right, not directly opposite her in the circle so it was difficult for Lilian to be sure of the woman’s glances without obviously turning her head and looking at her. Lilian shifted her weight slightly so that her body was facing slightly to the right and then employed a similar trick to the one she did that morning, closing her eyes so that to anyone looking at her, she would seem to be asleep, but all the while keeping them ever so slightly open so that she could peer through her eyelashes. Luckily this didn’t make her stand out too much as some of the older church occupants had shut their eyes only minutes after sitting on the cushioned benches. In the low light of the Church hall, Lilian found it difficult to see in this manner but it only took her a couple more songs to be sure. The blue woman was looking right at her and was now barely looking away at all. Lilian felt nerves creep into the the pit of her stomach. Surely another attacker from Bana House wouldn’t strike within the sacred walls of a church? Would they? Lilian remembered that all her family and friends were inside as well and she felt her heart quicken. She opened her eyes just in time to catch the blue woman look away towards the choir. Lilian found Mr Attorcop in the crowd and saw him looking at the floor near the choir, his eyes also half closed in weariness. It would be impossible for her to get his attention and signal to him that she was being spied on. In fact, Lilian realised that while the service was happening it would be impossible for her to do anything without drawing unwanted attention. She resolved to wait until the end and then try to find Mr Attorcop to warn him about a potential second threat. She thought about how useful a bottle of Lunar essence would be at this moment. She could plunge the church in to darkness and then sneak away unseen, if she knew how that is.
After what seemed like an entire season, but was in fact just over an hour, the service ended. Brother Thomas said a few final words, reminding everyone to be friendly with each other or what ever and Lilian could finally stand up and put her plan into action. She waited patiently until her row emptied out and then ducked her head low so as to easily slip in and amongst the crowd without being seen. Once she had made it out of the door and to the square she turned back to see if she could spot Mr Attorcop or her parents. She had assumed they would be right behind her but in her haste she had left them behind. There was no commotion or disturbance happening in the church so Lilian assumed her parents were fine for the time being. To her left there was a small birch tree, planted into the ground beneath the square, the stones were carefully placed around its base so that it looked like part of the design. Lilian leant on the tree and kept an eye on the crowds exiting the Church. After a large group of visitors in their city finery came out stretching and chatting about the wonderful singing, Lilian saw the woman in blue step into the open and look around. She was clearly scanning the faces of everyone around her, not hiding the fact that she was looking for someone. Lilian wondered if she might spot her and pinned herself to the papery birch trunk. The trunk was not wide enough to conceal her completely, but it did hide her form and size enough to confuse anyone that might be looking out for her. Now that the tables were turned, Lilian watched as the woman in blue walked through the crowd alone, still scanning each face as she went. Just then, a small dog that must have belonged to one of the Freedos tourists as Lilian had never seen it before, sidled up to the tree and began to sniff around it. The dog was fluffy black and white with a pointed snout and it looked as though it could easily be accidentally stepped on, it was so small in fact that Lilian barely noticed it sniffing around her feet. She managed to dodge out of the way just in time as it raised its leg. This frightened the little creature and it began to yap and bark and fuss at Lilian who vainly tried to shush it at the same time. She had to look down to avoid stepping on it and when she looked back up she saw that several people were looking over at her to see what the commotion was and the woman in blue had disappeared.
“I’m so sorry.” Lillian looked up to see a rather large woman in a pink bodice and white skirt hurrying over to her, “He’s just fussy because he’s hungry.” She leaned forward and spoke to the little dog, “Marco come here. Marco, here. Here Marco.” The little dog paid her no attention and instead continued to sniff Lilian’s foot.
“Come here Marco, come come pet. Come here my prince. Stop bothering this young lady, he doesn’t bite he’s very friendly.” Lilian didn’t see a bite from this animal as being something she might have to worry about. Losing her patience she bent down, picked up the dog which promptly stuck its tongue out in surprise and handed it to its owner.
“Thank you my darling.” She said before turning away and fussing over her dog some more.
Lilian looked back at the crowd and saw her Mother waving at her. She was about to head towards her when one final look round revealed something. Across the square in between two houses she noticed a flash of what looked like blue material disappearing into the alley. Lilian ran over to her mother and said something about seeing her back at home before sprinting away. Before she reached the alley however, Lilian had a flash of conscience. Was pursuing a strange woman a good idea? Night was slowly falling on the Benlunar and Lilian glanced up to see the first few stars peering through wispy, pink clouds. Only weeks ago she would never have dreamed of putting herself in this much danger, but something about her training with Mr Attorcop had emboldened her. She felt as though if she did encounter any danger, she would be able to defend herself easy enough. And so she dipped carefully into the alleyway and made her way down it. The buildings were so close together here that it was as if night had already taken this part of the town. The alley lead to a small side street which Lilian knew well, although she hadn’t been there in several months. Going left would take her to the outskirts of town while going right would bring her to the back of the Fox and Octopus Inn. She glanced in both directions before having her mind made up by another flash of blue material to her right. Conscious of the noise her smart sandals were making, she slowed down and made her way quietly towards where she had just seen the dress flick into a doorway. Lilian hugged the wall as she approached, staying low so as to keep out of sight. The doorway up ahead was the back entrance to a house but Lilian couldn’t remember who lived there. As she approached it she heard voices, a woman’s and a man’s but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. As she edged closer to listen, she considered turning back but thought that even if she gained even a little bit of information on the silver hand brooches or Bana House or anything, the risk would have been worth it. The voices were very low, despite being so far from any crowds so Lilian had to step further and further forward. She was practically at the doorway, almost able to lean out from the wall and peer in when the unthinkable happened. Lilian had been so focused on hearing what was being said that she hadn’t noticed the dark puddle beneath her foot. The soft slap of water as her foot went in was enough to cause the voices to stop. Lilian considered turning to run but didn’t have time to put any sort of plan into action before the face of a tall man appeared in front of her. He’d almost jumped from the doorway into the alley in an effort to catch whoever had made the sound and when his eyes fell on Lilian they widened in surprise. This quickly turned to anger,
“What in the seven stars are you doing sneaking around?” Lilian froze, ready to fight, ready to run, but not ready to deal with questions. The man was dressed in dark grey and had a round, rather handsome face. Lilian had seen if before but it took a second before she could place it in her memory. He was the man who had been sat directly behind her during the service at the Stave Church. Before she could answer his question, the woman in blue came out from beyond the doorway to see what was happening. The light was low but Lilian could see that her cheeks were flushed. Lilian looked at the couple, she couldn’t see any suspicious brooches but something about the meeting still felt, conspiratorial.
“Well?” the tall man spoke again and this time Lilian knew she had to answer, so she lied.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb I just… I’m going to the Fox and Octopus to meet my parents and I thought I’d take a shortcut.” The tall man weighed her answer,
“Why were you tiptoeing around then?”
“I heard voices and I got scared.” The man clearly still had his doubts but thankfully, at that point, the woman in blue, stepped in to ease the tension.
“William,” she said to the tall man, “she’s only young, it’s ok.” She put an arm on his shoulder and Lilian watched him relax and breathe again. He mumbled an apology, Lilian had clearly scared him, which was strange, she thought, as he was almost twice her height. The woman in blue smoothed her dress and approached Lilian cautiously.
“My Lady,” she began, “Please excuse my, friend, he’s a gentle giant really. Please, don’t let us keep you.” Lilian found herself smiling at her manner. She spoke as if she was reading a story and her voice floated on the gloaming like silk in the wind, and when she said, ‘My Lady’, Lilian almost blushed. Instead of replying, Lilian just smiled and bowed and lowered her eyes as she fumbled past them in the small street. Before she was quite clear of them the woman in blue spoke again,
“Oh and, if I might ask a favour.” Lilian turned to come face to face with the woman’s large, brown eyes.
“Yes?” Said Lilian, the words almost catching in her throat.
“If anyone should ask, not that they would.” Lilian saw the tall man cast a sideways glance at his friend, she continued, “we would very much appreciate it if you kept this meeting to yourself.” The woman smiled sweetly whilst nudging her friend in his side. Catching on, the tall man reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny gold coin and placed it in Lilian’s palm. The two strangers then just looked at Lilian and waited for her to react. Lilian wasn’t quite sure how to react so she reverted back to what Kilde would do in this situation.
“Thank you Sir, thank you my lady. Please, there is no need to worry. Consider the meeting gone from my memory. I wish you both a pleasant evening.” And with that she turned around and darted down the alley towards the back of the Fox & Octopus.
Once she reached the back of the Inn she turned around to see if anyone was behind her. She knew that Liny and Xander would have had no problem with her entering through the back door but seeing as no one was following her, she decided to run past it and head further down the alley. This path would take her to the trades quarter of Benlunar, near Jacob’s yard. It was a roundabout way to get home and she’d have to cut through the trees to get to her path, but seeing as it was a warm evening, Lilian didn’t mind the extra walk. When she reached the empty cobbled street that passed between the various yards and smithys she looked down at the weighty coin in her hand. The gold shone brightly even in the low light of the evening. It was a gold Sovereign, Lilian knew it because of the outline of Empress Silvia’s face on the one side, and the crest of Alicium on the other. She had never held a sovereign before, most Benlunar citizens traded with copper heads or occasionally silver bits but with this coin she could go into the Fox and Octopus and buy drinks for everyone in there for the whole night, or she could buy her own horse or a whole wardrobe of new clothes. Her mind was racing at the possibilities, so much so that she only just noticed the slick, scarlett liquid on the floor before putting her foot in it. Lilian stumbled to a stop, confused. One of the cobblestones at her feet was unmistakably wet, the light was very low now but Lilian had the intermittent brightness of the moon to help her. She waited several seconds for a small cloud to pass in front of it before she could tell for sure what it was she was looking at. A small patch of what looked like oil was splashed on the stones. The strange liquid was laid out in patches that formed a trail in front of her. Making sure not to tread on any of it, Lilian followed the strange splashes and drips down the street. They lead her to a stone wall, round the corner from Jacob’s yard. The liquid was plentiful here and seemed to end at the base of the wall. Lilian brought her hand up to her mouth in a gasp. She hadn’t wanted to believe that the liquid was blood, but there was no denying it now. At the base of the wall was a mass of black and white fur, eerily still in the darkness. It was roughly the size of a large rabbit or… or a small dog. No. Lilian thought, it couldn’t be. Just then she heard a sound from down the street where she had come from. A cooing and calling. She turned to see the light of a torch coming from the other end of the street and the shapes of several people walking towards her. Lilian hastily put the gold coin in her shoe and started walking towards the group. If the pile of fur and blood behind her was what she thought it to be, she couldn’t bring herself to let its owner discover it without warning.
“Marco!” A woman’s voice cut through the darkness followed by that of a man’s. The small group had yet to discover the first splash so Lilian broke into a run, to catch them before they did.
“Where could he have got to?” She heard the woman’s voice again. Lilian could clearly see them now, the large woman in the pink bodice was being flanked by two men, clearly friends whom she had asked for help in tracking down her runaway pet. All eyes fell on Lilian as she entered the circle of torchlight.
“Oh hello miss,” Said the woman, clearly not recognising Lilian from their earlier encounter.
“I don’t suppose you’ve seen a little dog run through here? He’s white with black spots and he’s oh so precious.” Lilian could see the worry in her eyes and hear it in her voice. She didn’t know how to put in to words what she had to say so she just tried to keep her voice as calm as possible.
“I did Madam. But I’m very sorry to say, I think there’s been an accident.” The woman looked at her, confused.
“An accident?” She repeated.
“Yes. I… your dog is over there but he’s seriously injured, I…” She tried to continue but at the mention of her dog being hurt the woman rushed past her.
“What’s happened? Where is he?” Lilian could only watch along with the two men as the woman in pink ran into the darkness to investigate. Moments later, a scream pierced the night and the two men ran towards the scene of carnage. Lilian was left alone, she looked down to see the still slick stones at her feet, glistening eerily in the moonlight. Lilian felt angry. How dare such a horrible thing reflect the beauty and grace of the moon. She felt a tightness in her throat as she heard the woman’s sobs in the distance. She was at a loss. A loss of how to help, a loss as to what to say or do. Lilian could only stare at the floor. She found her eye being drawn to a crack between the stones where something reflective caught her eye. At first she thought it was just more blood, but then she realised that the light it reflected was different. As she bent down to have a closer look, the object seemed to shift and change in nature. She almost couldn’t get her fingers between the cobbles to reach it, but when she finally managed to extract the thing she saw that it was only a small clump of fur. Just as she was about to throw it away however, the fur changed colour.
Over the next few days, many questions were asked, teams of men were assembled to track or trap the thing that had killed the dog, but nothing was found. At one point, even Lilian was suspected of doing the deed, but the accusation was quickly quashed. Lilian of course showed Kilde the fur she’d found on the scene and the two came up with their own theories as to what happened, most of which involved the mysterious Feinhound. All of the chaos and commotion eventually calmed down and the event was replaced by new and more pressing problems and daily demands. This was of course, many weeks before Kilde died.
Benlunar - Episode 7
The trap is sprung and a deal is made.
Take the road up through the mystic mountains
Past the fantastic fishing fields and fountains
Three days through the Titan woods
Whose trees glare down through leafy hoods
Crawl in the darkness of the biting caves
It’s more dangerous the other ways
Then finally find yourself later or sooner
In the hidden valley town Benlunar
On the stone shelf, on the edge of Benlunar mountain, where the air is thin and the trees can only grow pins instead of leaves. The sun shines brightly overhead and the sparrow hawks screech into the valley. On the scree and stones that make up the shelf floor, a stranger is suspended mid step. They’re holding a knife in their right hand, the tip of which is almost touching the skin on the throat of a bearded, bald man. A young woman, Lilian, watches all of this as if from many leagues away. Her mind distancing itself so as to maintain its sanity. Slowly though, as she sees the stranger breathing under their cloak, fastened by a hand shaped silver brooch, as she hears the bearded man’s voice speak to the stranger, she is brought back to the present moment with a rush as blood flows into her ear drums.
“Thank you so much for joining us,” Said mister Attorcop, “As you can see, I was hoping you would.” Lilian wanted him to step away from the point of the blade, one quick sneeze, she thought, and he’d be impaled. But instead of stepping back, Mr Attorcop leant forward and dipped his right cheek down towards the blade’s edge. He then slowly dragged his cheeky across it with a soft scraping sound. Lilian saw a few short hairs from the edge of his beard fall onto the stones beneath him. He’s toying with them, she thought. Lilian knew this from the small smile that fell across Attorcop’s lips.
“Well I suppose we should finally see who we’ve been dealing with these past few days.” Attorcop stepped past the knife and threw back the stranger’s hood, in another second he’d lowered their cloth mask revealing the face of a woman. She had dark brown hair and dark green eyes. Lilian thought her very beautiful, particularly as she’d never seen anyone with such tanned skin with green eyes before. She was breathing very quickly and her eyes were darting from Attorcop to Lilian to the sky to the floor as if she was desperately seeking a way out of her own body. Lilian noticed that she was moving small muscles around her cheeks and forehead but the rest of her body was completely fixed in place. Attorcop stepped back, marvelling at the efficacy of his trap. He walked all the way around her and then turned to Lilian and said,
“I mean that’s at least worth losing a toe or something. Look how still she is!” Lilian knew he was referring to the deal he’d made to make this trap possible, she also knew he was making a joke, a joke that Lilian didn’t find particularly amusing.
“Is she alright?” Asked Lilian, in a small voice.
“I assume so, let’s ask her shall we? Hello? Are you alright there?” Attorcop leaned in patronisingly close to the strange woman’s face. Lilian saw her contort her face and desperately try to form words. Through all the effort however, they only came out as a whisper.
“Release me.”
“What’s that?” Replied Attorcop, Lilian knew full well he’d heard her.
“Release me.” The words came out quicker now, but were still spat out through gritted teeth and hatred. Mr Attorcop held his chin in a mock thinking pose.
“Hmm I think I’ll pass on that one if it’s all the same to you. Well, at least until I’ve got some answers of my own. How does that sound? Hm? I ask a few questions and you tell me a few answers and then we all go and grab a bite to eat?” Lilian looked at the woman, she said nothing but Lilian could tell she was desperately trying to think her way out of the situation. Mr Attorcop, hands clasped behind his back, began wondering around her in circles.
“Let’s start with an easy one shall we? Were you hired, or are you working alone?” As Lilian had expected the woman said nothing. Whenever Attorcop came in to view she merely glared at him intently.
“I assume you’re some sort of amateur assassin, is this your first job?” Attorcop spoke the words calmly and matter of factly. Lilian was unsure why he was pursuing this line of questioning but it seemed to produce some results. The strange woman began to breathe quickly and her face grew even angrier and more frustrated. Attorcop must have picked up on this as he continued.
“I see you’ve got a silver hand on your cloak. Is that what your family give to youngsters on their first week? Is it a sort of helping hand?” Lilian realised what he was doing. He was purposefully getting the woman more and more irate. Lilian could see her nostrils flair and she began spitting through her teeth with each breath. Lilian remembered what Mr Attorcop had said about assassin’s wanting their victims to know who they were, she wondered if Attorcop was attacking this woman’s pride. What ever he was doing, it was achieving results. Lilian was still nervous but was less scared now that she saw how relaxed Mr Attorcop was. She decided to join in, if Attorcop was indeed attacking this woman’s sense of self, then being insulted by someone young enough to pose no threat whatsoever might prove useful.
“I know what it means.” She said, Mr Attorcop whipped round to look at her, his expression was worried, perhaps he only meant for her to observe but his facely quickly changed when he listened to what she said.
“I’ve seen hand brooches like that before. They’re given to some children on their first day of school. The silver hand basically says, watch out, my child is a slow learner and needs extra attention.” She saw Mr Attorcop turn to stifle a laugh. The woman’s eyes were now wide in fury.
“Ah yes of course.” Said Mr Attorcop, “I suppose that explains the ineptitude.”
“Enough!” The woman spat the word out through gritted teeth. Considering she hadn’t been saying anything only moments ago, Lilian saw this as a victory.
“If I answer your questions.” The stranger continued, much to Lilian’s surprise. “What guarantee do I have that you’ll release me.” Lilian looked to Mr Attorcop to await his reply. The teasing smile had disappeared from his face, it was now fixed in a serious expression. Lilian expected him to answer formally and fairly, like he always did. She expected him to say something like, ‘you have my word’ or ‘you can trust me’ instead he moved directly in front of the mysterious woman, leant forward near her ear and said,
“You don’t. You just made an attempt on my life, so the way I see things is that every second I allow you to breathe is a gift from whatever God you worship. If you wish to keep breathing, you keep talking, because quite frankly I have no use for silent assassins that I cannot learn anything from.”
Lilian felt a chill run down her spine from her neck. She’d never seen Mr Attorcop like this. His countenance had completely changed, the light around them seem to almost dim as he spoke. There was no trace of humour or heart left in his face and for this first time since meeting him, Lilian realised why someone might want this powerful man dead. The stranger sensed this too as the fight seemed to slowly drain from her eyes. It seemed as though her only options were to talk or…
“My name is Kissandra. I’m from Bana house. In Freedos.” She whispered to Attorcop who stood up straight upon hearing the new information.
“Bana house! Well, I must say that’s disappointing.”
“Why?” Asked Lilian.
“There are many ways to get a person to kill someone for money. You could even pay a group of men at a local tavern, some people make it their business, and some of those people are very expensive and very good at what they do. Then some of them might decide to band together and drive prices up, as well as train new recruits. Bana house is one of those places. But…” Attorcop paused for a second and looked at the Kissandra, “well, it’s not the Endless Well is it?” This produced a furious and shaking response from the suspended Kissandra.
“Those drunken halfwits couldn’t catch a caged chicken.”
“Perhaps not. But nevertheless I’m disappointed my life was only worth one emissary from Bana house. I would have thought my reputation more dangerous than that.” At this Kissandra looked confused, or as confused as she could look with a semi-frozen face.
“You are an advisor to the Empress. A politician who buries himself in books.” Attorcop began walking towards the cliff edge. This time, his hand brushed his beard as if he really was in deep thought.
“Am I now…” Lilian heard him mutter. After a few seconds of gazing out over the valley he snapped his fingers and turned around.
“You were sent by Lord Edward’s Mother, Lady Florentina.” Lilian whipped her head back to witness the reaction from Kissandra but there was none. She said nothing and did nothing and this, Lilian realised was as much of an affirmation as if she had simply agreed with Mr Attorcop out loud.
“Ha!” Shouted Attorcop in triumph, “I knew it. Lilian, there are very few people I tell about my work with the Empress. Mostly I just say I’m an apothecary or a scholar if people ask, but sometimes, I tell certain ambitious individuals that I know and have served Empress Sylvia. Which is true, but only once. The last person I told this to was a woman who wants to see her son marry the Empress. I had agreed to help her, but, then why try to kill me…” As Mr Attorcop spoke his thoughts aloud, Lilian watched Kissandra out of the corner of her eye. The spark of panic had gone and been replaced by dejection and defeat. For this time since she stopped, Lilian wondered what they were going to do once Kissandra of Bana house became unfrozen. Mr Attorcop was wrapping up his train of thought behind her.
“Which is interesting because I knew her when she was a young woman, but she wouldn’t want me dead unless… Unless I knew something that would threaten her son’s eligability, OR something that would make his power unstable once he achieved his goal. I doubt this one is going to tell me anything else are you?” He directed the question at Kissandra, who maintained her silence.
“Well, I suppose this is your lesson for underestimating your target. Do they not teach you that at Bana House?” Mr Attorcop walked over to the outstretched blade and began carefully working out of Kissandra’s grip. It took him a while but once he finally managed to extract it he held it up in front of him and tossed it from hand to hand, testing its weight. Seemingly satisfied with his new acquisition he turned back to Lilian.
“Miss Lausanne, you may wish to avert your eyes from this.” for a second Lilian didn’t understand why he was asking, but she quickly realised what he intended to do.
“What?” She protested, “No no no, you’re not going to, you know…” Mr Attorcop raised a single eyebrow.
“Well I’m not going to braid her hair.” He said, sarcastically.
“You can’t hurt her.” Cried Lilian, “We’ve caught her, she’s lost.” Mr Attorcop’s expression grew strained.
“It’s not that she’s lost, Miss Lausanne, it’s that we’ve won. And that victory would mean very little if we just let her walk away to try again. You do know how Assassin’s work don’t you? I’m sorry it’s her first day.” He directed this to Kissandra who was beginning to look terrified again.
“I know how it works.” Said Lilian, who’s mind was racing to try and find an alternative answer, “You said she was hired right? Can’t we just pay her to not hurt you?” Mr Attorcop was beginning to lose patience.
“And what happens when I return to Freedos, fit as a fiddle and her friends from Bana House spot me? What do you think they’ll do to her? What do you think they’ll do to me?? More’s the point.” Lilian began shaking her head and stepping backwards. There must be an alternative, she kept saying to herself over and over, but realised that repeating the phrase in her head wasn’t allowing any new ideas to enter it. She could feel the stones beneath her feet shift under her weight, she was stepping back towards the edge of the circle now. The edge, she thought, suddenly, she had an idea.
“Then let’s make a deal!” Mr Attorcop rolled his eyes but Lilian ignored him and ran over to face Kissandra. Up close, she could spot small scars on her cheek and could clearly see the silver clasp holding the cloak together.
“Listen,” She started, “My friend here set you up, he caught you and I helped right?” Kissandra said nothing but simply looked intently at Lilian, “that means you lost and if he wanted to he could, I dunno, cut your throat or or or just leave you here frozen or what ever. Which means right now, you’re basically dead.” Kissandra still said nothing, seemingly having worked all this out for herself already, “So here’s what I’m going to say. If you agree not to hurt us in the future, we won’t hurt you right now. You’re paying for something later, understand?” There was a pause, Lilian desperately hoped that Kissandra would agree with her. Finally, through gritted teeth and a cracking voice, Kissandra spoke up.
“I thank you for your mercy. But you do not understand. What do I tell Bana House?” Now it was Lilian who was losing her patience,
“I don’t care what you tell them, make something up! But while you do, be sure to remember that if it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be telling them anything!” This seemed to persuade Kissandra who looked into Lilian’s eyes and finally ceased to struggle, something must have changed in her, for as soon as she did this she fell to the stone floor in a lump. Lilian trusted the chalk circle and she trusted that Kissandra no longer meant them any harm, she even crouched down to help her stand up. Kissandra’s joints were stiff and aching so she gladly took Lilian’s hand and used it to balance herself while standing up. Mr Attorcop was still a few feet away, wary of the goings on in front of him. As he watched Kissandra stand up he waved her knife in front of him and said,
“And I’m keeping this, by the way.” Lilian shot him an angry look, he wasn’t helping the situation. She turned back to look at Kissandra and was momentarily taken aback at how much taller she was than Lilian had thought. Her dark green cloak, free from the demon’s spell flowed soundlessly in the wind. Kissandra herself stood up straight and took in a deep breath while rolling her head, relieved to have the freedom to move again.
“I thank you for your mercy.” She looked down at Lilian, her voice was clear now, it cut through the breeze and Lilian detected a strong Freedos accent,
“I promise to leave you but I must warn you that Bana House prides itself on completing their missions. I cannot speak for what they will do when they discover my failure. But it is true that I underestimated my target.” She turned to look at Mr Attorcop who was busy studying his new knife.
“I do not recommend you return to Freedos any time soon sir.” Kissandra raised her voice so that Mr Attorcop was sure to hear it. He responded with a curt,
“Mm hm...” Kissandra then turned to look at Lilian.
“You have a kind soul, my lady, I pray that you do not let the city…” She looked back at Attorcop, “Tarnish it.” With that she turned back towards the mountain path and began to walk away. Lilian, still slightly questioning her decision to let Kissandra go, shouted to her.
“And you’re leaving Benlunar, tonight, ok?” Kissandra turned around and bowed deeply, then she stood upright, brought her hands together in a loud clap and promptly disappeared, replaced by a pile of twigs arranged in a strange symbol on the floor.
After Kissandra’s disappearance Lilian turned to Mr Attorcop. She watched him hide the blade in his sleeve and braced herself for a telling off. Instead of shouting or berating her however, he simply walked back to the tree line from where Kissandra had emerged. Lilian would rather have been shouted at than treated so coldly. She looked up to see an empty sky, the birds of prey must have flown back to their nests, she thought, as all she could see now was a blue and beautiful spring sky, stretching from the mountain’s peak across the valley and over the horizon. She noticed how tense she was and relaxed her shoulders as she noticed Mr Attorcop emerge from the trees holding two short sticks, each about the length of Lilian’s arm. He walked across the stones to where Lilian was stood and held one out for her to take. As she did so he said,
“Well done Lilian, you played your part brilliantly, I owe you my thanks, and probably my life.” Lilian didn’t understand.
“What do you mean?” She asked, gripping the stick and feeling the rough wood grain against her palm and fingers.
“I was prepared to kill that woman, although I admit that I didn’t want to. However, if I would never have been able to convince her not to hurt me, not like you did.” As he was speaking he was inspecting his own stick, testing its strength by trying to bend it.
“Why?” Lilian was starting to feel as though she had also been manipulated.
“Well if your job is to kill someone you’re very unlikely to listen to them when they ask you to stop. I mean, that’s exactly what they would say, isn’t it? You however, you came in at exactly the right moment and saved that woman’s life, and for that she rewarded us with mercy. You saw how she dropped from her freeze? That would not have happened had she not relinquished all desires to hurt me. You played on her pride, which you accurately guessed to be her weakness. An excellent piece of diplomacy and now you have a Freedos Assassin in your debt. Perhaps not enough to hire but certainly enough to gain some information, particularly if you threaten to tell Bana House how she failed. Very good work.” Lilian didn’t know whether or not to thank him. She had not been complimented on anything recently and the feeling felt alien to her.
“Mr Attorcop?” She asked, “What would you have done if I hadn’t got her to make the deal?” Mr Attorcop did not reply to this, but instead looked at her with a very serious expression. Lilian had asked a question to which she already knew the answer and so decided to quickly change the subject.
“What are these for?” She held up her stick.
“Well, seeing as you’re happy to bargain with my life I think we should step up your training don’t you Lilian?” Lilian looked up at him,
“What happened to Miss Lausanne?” She joked. Mr Attorcop replied simply,
“I honestly don’t know.”
For the next few hours Mr Attorcop instructed Lilian in a very different form of self defence. It was more aggressive than before, which saw Lilian only blocking and defending herself from attacks. Now she was instructed to block incoming attacks and combine the block with an attack of her own. As Attorcop’s stick would swing towards her, she would strike it with her own and then move in to punch with the fist that gripped the weapon. This would then be blocked by Attorcop’s open palm and the dance would flow and continue. Each time an attack got through Attorcop would stop and show her how to approach blocking it from a variety of different angles but the principle would always be the same. “A block is never just a block,” he would say, “if it is not followed by an attack, it might as well not have happened.” The valley sang with the rhythmic clacks of wood on wood. As soon as Lilian thought she understood something, Attorcop would surprise her with a quick jab or a kick that would knock her to the floor. Despite the bangs and bruises Lilian felt herself enjoying the training more and more. The fluid movement of the fight, coupled with the satisfaction of blocking a difficult or surprising attack made her smile again and again.
When the sun had gone past its peak Lilian was almost collapsing with exhaustion. Mr Attorcop ran through one last block repetition and then took a step back and bowed, signifying the end of the training. Lilian bowed back and the two of them started to walk back down the mountain. They chatted about Benlunar’s history and Lilian learned things even she hadn’t known before. Mr Attorcop knew a surprising amount about the valley town, including the fact that the Padda Stone had indeed been placed there before any building or settlement and that the first building wasn’t the Stave Church, like Lilian would have thought, but actually a sort of Inn where travellers could stay and get out of the winter cold on their pilgrimage through the mountains.
“And was the Padda Stone carved by the travellers?” Asked Lilian, as they approached the outskirts of Benlunar, “Or did it, you know, move there itself?” Lilian dropped her voice to ask this as she didn’t want anyone to over hear her and think she’d left her wits in the hills.
“His name is Gorakja and I don’t think he bothers moving very much. I’m not positive but I believe he came from the mountain, carved by the winds and rains over millenia. He is one of a few such beings.” Lilian watched Mr Attorcop as he spoke. She noticed a change in his voice when he talked about the Padda Stone, a sort of reverence entered into his cadence. A deep, respectful tone that one might find in churches or funerals.
“The next time he wakes up,” Said Lilian, “I want to be there. And this time, I won’t run away.” Mr Attorcop smiled and nodded his head.
“I believe you would get on very well. Now, I shall see you tomorrow morning just here, and we’ll resume training.” They had reached the steps of the Thoreson house and Mr Attorcop began to climb them, before he reached the door he turned back to Lilian and said,
“Well done today Lilian.” The complement came out awkwardly, but Lilian still smiled back in thanks. Mr Attorcop then disappeared through the large wooden door and Lilian turned towards the town centre. The Morning’s events kept running through her head. She picked out moment after moment where things could have gone very differently indeed. She wondered if Kissandra was still hiding in the town somewhere or if she had heeded her request and left immediately. By the time she reached the square she was playing blocking drills over in her head. She looked up to see the town square brimming with life. Its coloured flagstones were barely catching the light of the sun with all the people milling and stepping over them. There were stalls set up by locals and various wears being haggled over by tourists and townsfolk alike. The Stave Church imposed itself on the scene as always, its wooden spire towering over the activity like a teacher in a schoolyard. Near its entrance, Lilian saw brother Thomas struggling to carry some chairs. As she watched, he dropped one and nearly fell over it as he walked, Lilian almost laughed out loud whilst watching him get caught up in his robes whilst vainly trying to carry more chairs than he could manage. She ran over to him and picked up one of the fallen chairs.
“Ah Lilian,” He said, “Thank you so much. I said I’d collect these this morning from Sara’s house, but Brother Ulnar was unable to help me. Would you mind taking them inside?” He gestured for Lilian to go on ahead and she obediently opened the large Church doors so that he could stumble through into the echoing main hall. Lilian then followed brother Thomas as he comedically quickened his step so as to get to the back of the hall without dropping another chair. Lilian looked up at the tall ceiling above her. She never particularly enjoyed the church ceremonies but the building itself never ceased to impress. From the centre of the hall you could see all the way up to the tower floor, which Lilian knew housed an impressive array of bowl bells connected to pipes that flowed in and out of the walls of the tower itself.
“If you could just bring that through to the back here.” Brother Thomas’ voice echoed off the stone floor and wall carvings as he lead her towards a small door which lead to a back room. Lilian had been in here once before, years ago when her mother had asked her to help Brother Thomas decorate the church for the first snow festival, an annual event where Benlunar citizens sing songs and celebrate the coming of winter as a way to off-set the dread of the long cold nights to come.
“Just set them down there, thank you.” He pointed to a corner of the small room where there was already a few mismatched chairs piled on top of each other. The room smelled like tea and Lilian walked past the small fireplace to put her chairs down with the others. Brother Thomas breathed a sigh of relief once the job had been completed.
“Ah, that’s great. Thank you Lilian, we’re just getting ready for tonight’s service. I’m hoping we’ll get some extra people in because of the visitors. Will we be seeing you this evening?” Lilian had all but forgotten about the visitor’s mid stay service. As a show of thanks and welcoming, Benlunar traditionally performed songs and told stories for the city visitors when they were part of the way through their stay. She had planned on going with her parents but all of the recent drama and chaos had pushed it out of her mind.
“Oh, yes I think we’re coming.” This put a smile on Brother Thomas’ face.
“Excellent. Well hopefully it won’t be just you and your family. I was talking to some of the visitors earlier and they weren’t even aware that it was happening so I’m a little worried no one will show up!” Lilian could tell that he was distracted as he kept fumbling with the chord on his robe and tripping over things whilst looking for various parchments and musical instruments. Just as he was complaining about Brother Ulnar not doing his job of advertising the service, he reached up to grab a pile of robes from a high shelf. His stress however affected his judgement and he accidentally knocked a small brass box off the shelf below it. The box crashed to floor and burst open, spraying its contents across the wooden boards. Lilian heard Brother Thomas mutter a word under his breath, one she wouldn’t have even thought Church Brothers knew and she knelt down to start helping him pick up the scattered contents. Most of the objects were useless bits that any household would accumulate over the years. A spool of black thread, a couple of broken paper weights, a hollow sculpture of a frog with a slot in its back meant for coins were all picked up and placed back in the bronze box. Brother Thomas was busy picking up clothes pins when Lilian noticed some of the object had rolled under an armchair near the fireplace. She reached under it, felt around and grasped the first thing her hand felt. It was cold and metallic and had a satisfying weight to it that suggested it might have been quite precious. She pulled her hand out and opened her fist to reveal a shiny, silver brooch in the shape of an open hand.
Benlunar - Episode 6
Story circles
Take the road up through the mystic mountains
Past the fantastic fishing fields and fountains
Three days through the Titan woods
Whose trees glare down through leafy hoods
Crawl in the darkness of the biting caves
It’s more dangerous the other ways
Then finally find yourself later or sooner
In the hidden valley town Benlunar
“There once was a Princess with 3 brothers. All older than she. The eldest was her father’s favourite, strong and brave. The middle brother was the people’s prince, they loved him for his good looks and charity. The youngest brother was her mother’s favourite, as he was sweet and loving. The princess felt like no one’s favourite, most of the people didn’t even know that the king and queen even had a daughter.
One day, the princess was walking through the forest, alone as usual, when she began to cry. Her tears filled her eyes so much that she could not see where she was going. When she finally stopped crying she realised that she was lost. Whilst trying to find the way out of the forest she came across a Feinhound. He was big and bold with a coat more luxurious than any bird of paradise. The princess knew she should be scared, but she was so sad that she wouldn’t even have minded being eaten. The Feinhound said, “Are you not terrified by my razor teeth?” And the Princess said “No.”
“Are you not afraid of my cutting claws?” Said the Feinhound.
And the Princess said “No.”
“Well do you not tremble at the site of my jaws?” Said the Feinhound.
But still the princess replied, “No”. The Feinhound, practised in the arts of terror, became angry. He had eaten many brave warriors, killed courageous kings and bitten mighty soldiers, yet he could not scare this little princess. She explained to him about her brothers and the Feinhound proposed a deal.
“I can make it so that you are everyone’s favourite.” He said, “I can make you the most loved princess in all the land.” The princess was very happy, but she did not trust the Feinhound.
“If you give me the love of my parents and the people, what must I give you in return?” At this the Feinhound smiled, “Oh nothing,” he said, “just a little patience.” And so the princess agreed and the Feinhound showed her out of the forest and back to her castle.
Over the next few weeks, nothing changed for the princess. She was still ignored by her parents and treated as almost invisible by anyone who met her. The only thing that was different was that the youngest brother had begun to act very strangely. He would shout at his mother, throw things at the walls in a rage and be very rude to everyone he met. Eventually, he became so nasty that his mother told him to leave the castle and live as a monk. It broke her heart to say goodbye to her most loved son, but she could no longer abide the horrible man her sweet boy had become. A few weeks after he left, the middle brother was also forced to leave the castle. He had been visiting an orphanage, when he started insulting the townsfolk, telling them that they were poor and miserable and that he was rich and beautiful. The people pleaded with the prince to stop but he would not. He gave money to criminals and rich landowners and said that they were the only people that deserved it. He stopped funding the orphanage and said that unwanted children should live in the streets. The townspeople turned on the prince after only a few days and forced him out of the town, tying him to a horse and whipping it out of the gates.
The King and Queen were distraught. Two of their beloved sons gone. But at least they had their eldest, they said. The bravest and strongest of the three. But in the weeks that followed her second brother’s exile, the princess also began to notice changes in him. He grew tired and his eyes became desperate. His once broad arms became small and skinny and instead of hunting and riding like he used to, he would only visit a house in town and stay there for days doing nothing. Eventually he never came back to the castle and renounced his title as prince. And so then there was only the princess left. She started to perform her duties as the king and queen’s only child and soon the town saw how wonderful she was. Left with no choice she became strong and brave, as well as sweet, charitable and kind. The King and Queen admitted their love for her and the princess lived very happily.
One day however, she was out riding in the forest when she got separated from her troup. And there, in a tree above her she saw a large and lazy Feinhound.
“Oh my!” she cried, “This cannot be the same beast that agreed to help me all those months ago. Is this what you have been doing instead of fulfilling your promise? Sitting in sunlight and filling your belly? Without your help I was forced to work twice as hard to win the love I desired.” At this the Feinhound grew angry.
“YOU had to work hard?” he said, “I’ll admit that your youngest brother was easy to frighten and become. A few choice words at your mother and he was quickly gone. The middle sibling was tougher but I still bent him to my will. I took his shape and insulted the town and they sent me over the hill. The eldest brother was the hardest, for he was strong and brave. So I became a beauty and made him my love sick slave. I weakened him until he nearly died by refusing his desires to leave my pretty side, after that the way was clear. I hear no thanks but you’re still welcome dear.”
“And where are they now you demon beast?” The princess cried and spat.
“They were just here, we had a feast, why do you think I’m fat?”
When he had finished the story, Ortan looked up and around the main room of the Fox & Octopus Inn and caught Liny’s eye, he held up a finger and she brought over a freshly filled flagon of beer.
“Is he boring you with stories?” She asked Lilian and Kilde as she put down the heavy mug. Lilian was still in the world of the princess and the Feinhound and so had to snap herself back to attention.
“What? Oh… no. We were just hearing about the princess and the Feinhound.” Said Lilian.
“Aaaah that’s a good one.” Replied Liny, “Not as good as the Duke and the duck though.” At the mention of this story Ortan scoffed.
“Aah that’s for little children. There’s no danger, no moral.”
“And what’s the moral of the Princess and the Feinhound then?” Liny snapped. Ortan looked a little stumped,
“Hmm, don’t hurt your family.” Kilde disagreed,
“No it’s be thankful with what you have.” He turned to Lilian to get her opinion, Lilian sensed that they were all waiting for her to offer an interpretation. She thought for a second and said,
“Never trust a promise.” There was a short pause where they all thought about this for a second. Finally, Liny turned to go saying,
“Ooh, that’s a little dark. You don’t get that from the Duke and the duck.” As she walked towards the bar Lilian noticed her parents getting up from their table and motioning her to join them for the journey home. Kilde was also standing up,
“Thank you Ortan, that was a good story, I hadn’t heard that one before.” He finished his drink and walked over to his Mother who had been sitting with Lilian’s parents. Lilian looked back at Ortan.
“Yes, thank you.” She said. Ortan shrugged and sipped his new drink.
“Like I said, it doesn’t really say what the Feinhound looks like. But I think it’s just supposed to be a magical animal.” Lilian got up to leave when Ortan spoke again.
“I think the main message is probably, be careful of creatures you meet in the woods.”
The following morning Lilian got up early. As she had suspected, her arms and legs ached from the training she had undergone the day before. She managed to haul her body out of bed, into some comfortable clothes and out of the house just as the sun was cresting over the valley. When she reached the town centre she turned back to look at the view. She was rarely up this early and marvelled once again at the ever changing beauty of the landscape. The light was dusting the tree tops down in the valley and behind her the mountain shone like a beacon. The sky was clear and blue and it looked as though it was going to be a beautiful day. As they had agreed the day before, Lilian went straight to the Thoreson house and met Mr Attorcop outside on the steps. She was relieved to see him standing there as before going to bed she had worried whether or not their strange friend might have showed up in the night. Attorcop looked happy. For a man who rarely smiled this was a welcome change. He had an extra spring in his step as they approached the mountain path,
“I think you’ll be quite impressed with what I’ve cooked up. If it works, we should have ourselves an assassin by lunchtime.” He started to jog lightly, Lilian ran to keep up. She noticed that the jogging had started earlier today, meaning that she’d be even more tired by the time they reached the shelf, if that was indeed, where they were going. During the run up the sloping path Lilian decided it was time to get to the bottom of the Feinhound mystery.
“Mr Attorcop?” She said between breaths.
“Miss Lausanne?” replied Attorcop.
“Last night Ortan the trapper, told me and my friend a story about a Feinhound?” Lilian was watching her steps as she spoke as the path was beginning to get more rocky.
“Oh yes? Which one?” Attorcop was looking out over the valley, admiring the view.”
“The one about the princess and her three brothers.”
“Oh I like that one.” Said Mr Attorcop, “did he do the rhyme at the end? Some people don’t do the rhyme but honestly without it, what’s the point?” Lilian tried to get him back on topic.
“He did do the rhyme, but, you know what the story doesn’t say? It doesn’t say anything about what a Feinhound looks like… And I was wondering.” Lilian was having trouble speaking between breaths now. Her aching body was screaming at her to stop, but Attorcop’s relentless pace continued. “I was wondering if you knew what a Feinhound looked like?” Attorcop thought for a second. When he spoke, Lilian almost got irritated at how easily his words came, he was not out of breath at all!
“Are you asking because of those hairs you gave me the other day? I should tell you that, I only said they belonged to a Feinhound because that was the most logical explanation. I’ve never actually seen one. No one has.” At these words Lilian faltered and almost tripped up on a loose rock. Her already heavy bones became further leadened with sadness. How would she break the news to Kilde? She thought. Poor Kilde. Hang on, Kilde! The idea rushed into her head so fast it burst straight past her throat and out of her mouth,
“My friend Kilde has seen one! He saw the one who’s fur we found. He said it looked like a big dog but also a cat.”
“Probably a leopard.” Said Mr Attorcop.
“That’s what I said! But he got angry when I did and insisted I was wrong. I mean, we found the fur so it was definitely something strange, right?”
Mr Attorcop thought for a second. By now they had reached the path marker that signalled their break away point for the stony shelf, but before heading down the mountain side Attorcop turned and said,
“As the story suggests, the Feinhound is a magical creature that can take many forms. That’s why people use it as a sort of ‘catch-all’ for anything they can’t explain. The fur you brought me was indeed strange but I’ve worked with hyper reflective materials in the past and for them to appear in the natural world is not uncommon. Inside oyster shells for example. I offhandedly said ‘Feinhound’ because I didn’t know what it was, when I find out that it’s from a large moth I’ll take the necessary steps to classify it. Your friend might have seen something he didn’t understand but to assume it’s unnatural or mythical in nature is, well, childish. There are many creatures in these woods Miss Lausanne, most are content to mind their own business but some are currently drawing plans against us. Which brings me to why we are here today!”
On this Attorcop seemed to close the matter. The finality of his tone and the swift motion of his turn towards the secret path suggested that he no longer wished to chat about ‘childish’ things, as he called them. Lilian resented him for calling Kilde ‘childish’ but even she had to admit that Kilde enjoyed embellishing stories. As the stepped off the stone step path and into the trees to find the animal track, Lilian remembered the time she and Kilde had caught a salamander in the river. She heard him tell 10 different people that story and every time he told it the salamander seemed to grow larger and more ferocious until by the end Kilde was practically having to slay it like a dragon.
Once they reached the circular shelf Attorcop strode into the middle, turned and held out his arms.
“Notice anything different?” He said to Lilian and she stepped onto the layer of rocks and rubble. Lilian squinted in the morning sun, she looked up to see a big bird float across the blue sky, she turned to look back at the trees she even looked down at her feet, everything seemed much the same as the day before, with the exception of the lack of fog.
“No.” Said Lilian, still a little annoyed at the non-existence of the Feinhound.
“Excellent!” Attorcop clapped his hands together in delight, “Then we should be alright. Come, have a look at this, this is an important lesson.” Lilian noticed how Attorcop seemed to be enjoying his new role as ‘teacher’, it reminded her that he probably didn’t have many opportunities to share his knowledge with anyone. As he lead her over to the very edge of the stoney circle, she felt a little sorry for him. It must be a lonely life, she thought. Attorcop beckoned her to crouch down as he pointed to a flat rock on the edge of the circle,
“Look under there,” He said, almost giggling in delight. Lilian did as requested and knelt down to have a look under the rock. She noticed a line of chalk drawn on the stones underneath it. The line seemed to continue round the edge of the circle.
“Took me ages to lift up all the stones around the outside so that the line underneath isn’t broken. It goes all the way around see.” Attorcop moved a little way around the circle and lifted another rock to expose the chalk line underneath it. Lilian wondered why he’d gone to all the trouble.
“The chalk line,” Explained Attorcop, “Is best hidden so as to not alert suspicion. I learned this from a witch in the Swamm marshes. It’s called a protection circle. The brilliance of it is, that anyone can enter the circle as long as they’re not trying to hurt anyone already inside it.”
“What happens if they are trying to hurt whoever’s inside it?” Asked Lilian, intrigued by this new kind of magic.
“Well, that’s what I’m hoping to find out today.” Replied Attorcop.
“You mean you’ve never tried it!?” Lilian almost shouted at him, how could he be so reckless with their safety when they’ve already been attacked once?
“My apologies miss Lausanne, please explain your better plan to me so that I might assist you.” Lilian felt her face go red. She didn’t appreciate the sarcasm but she admitted to herself that Attorcop probably knew more about this than she did.
“You can take a breath Miss Lausanne. I’ve made the deal so everything should be fine.”
Lilian didn’t understand.
“What deal?” She asked. Attorcop beckoned her forward to the centre of the circle and motioned her to put her hands up in a guard position. She realised that they were starting training so she obediently put her hands up to guard against any slaps or punches that were about to come her way. As Attorcop slowly began sparring, lightly aiming various attacks and observing Lilian as she blocked and deflected them, he began to talk.
“There exist many preternatural and scientific arts in this world Miss Lausanne. I’ve shown you some of the uses that can be made of Lunar Essence, the power of essence is derived from the natural world. It’s a sort of accelerated access to the power of nature.”
Lilian batted away a particularly fast punch that was coming for her left cheek,
“Does that mean,” She spoke mid block, “that some people can use the power of essence but without the actual essence?”
“Very astute Miss Lausanne,” Replied Attorcop, crouching low to deliver a blow to Lilian’s stomach, “There are indeed people who can do that, I myself am one of them. The reason I prefer to use essence however is that it is much quicker and more powerful. The cost being that finding and storing essence is very difficult.” Lilian ducked under a high kick and attempted to retaliate with an uppercut to Attorcop’s chin, this was deftly caught and sent sailing past him.
“So everytime you use magic, there’s a cost?” She asked, collecting herself for another round.
“Exactly right. Although, I would say that this is true of everything, wouldn’t you?” Lilian didn’t have time to think about the philosophy behind this statement as she was busy avoiding a flurry of blows from Attorcop’s left side.
“But I suppose,” He continued, barely noticing the exchange, “This is especially true of… magic.” Lilian registered a pause before Attorcop said the word ‘magic’. She almost thought she saw him roll his eyes.
“I don’t like that word.” He said.
“Why not?” Asked Lilian.
“Magic is what you use to impress children and idiots. Magic involves waving your arms around to distract people from what you’re doing with your hands. The word offers no gravity to the powers we deal with. The power to bend and shape the physical world to our needs, it requires a better word. Art is good, for it does require creativity and practise. But it’s still not quite right.” Lilian sensed that Attorcop was going off on another path, so she changed her stance to attack and brought him back to the conversation at hand.
“What was that about a deal?”
“Ah yes,” He said, easily deflecting all of Lilian’s punches. “The power of the protection circle doesn’t just come from the chalk, it has to be sealed with a deal. That’s where the cost of this particular power comes into play.”
“Who do you make the deal with?” Asked Lilian.
“A demon.” At this Lilian faltered and received a sharp jab in the shoulder as punishment for dropping her guard. She ignored the pain as she repeated what she’d just thought she’d heard.
“A demon??”
“Well yes. We’re dealing with witchcraft Miss Lausanne, where did you think witches got their power from? Their superior herbal remedies?” Attorcop was not letting up, he motioned Lilian to put her guard up again and changed up his attacks to ones she hadn’t seen before. A few got through but Lilian quickly learned their counters as she contemplated the existence of demons. Attorcop continued his explanation.
“Witchcraft was developed as a means to protect women from persecution. It’s a noble and ancient art. Thousands of years ago groups of women realised that they could appeal to the charitable nature of certain demons, a race familiar with persecution, and make deals with them in return for power. I happen to have been given the means to contact one of these demons and occasionally will negotiate a deal with her in exchange for power.”
Lilian was still stunned, she was letting more attacks get through her guard because her brain couldn’t handle this new and quite frankly, terrifying information.
“What was the deal? What did you give the demon so that you could make this.” She briefly gestured to the stone circle around her, which she now realised must be some kind of paranormal trap. When she asked the question though, Attorcop paused. Lilian considered trying to punch him in the face but his expression of genuine concern gave her pause.
“That’s the trouble with this one.” He said. “She made me promise to give her something, but she didn’t specify what that thing was or when it would be taken. It’s a little worrying but I’m trying not to think about it.” Lilian’s eyes opened wide,
“You said you’ve made deals like this before though. What do demons usually want?” Attorcop snapped his attention back to her.
“Oh anything really. That’s the problem with dealing with beings that are thousands of years old, they’ve all gone a bit mad. Could be that they want all your fingernail clippings for a year, could be they just want money, not because they use it, but because they think it’s funny for you not to have any. They don’t have any needs so they just ask for things that they think will be fun. I think I caught this one off guard so she just said she’ll take something at some point, no doubt to amuse some whim she feels in the future.”
“Aren’t you scared?” Asked Lilian, remembering Ortan’s story and the fate of the poor Princess.
“Oh not really. Think about it. People lose things all the time. I myself once lost an entire collection of antique salt shakers just because I forgot the box in a carriage. The only difference here is that I know I’m going to lose something, I just don’t know what.”
At that moment an almost imperceptible movement caught Lilian’s eye. It came from the trees behind Attorcop. She craned her neck to see if she could look at what caused the leaves to rustle slightly, but Attorcop realised what she was doing.
“Don’t look.” He dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Just look at me and pretend to keep training.” He made a show of putting his fists up in front of him and jabbing at Lilian, who deflected them by second nature now. To her surprise, although Attorcop knew they were being watched he continued to calmly teach Lilian the basics of self defense.
“Excellent form there Miss Lausanne. Notice the difference of power when you have your feet planted firmly on the ground, that way the punch comes all the way from the ground before connecting with the chins of your enemies. Now the true experts would be able to deflect attacks like these with their eyes closed, such is the power of experience. See now for yourself how difficult it is, that’s it, close your eyes.” Lilian looked at Mr Attorcop, distressed and confused. Was he really expecting her to close her eyes?
“That’s it!” he repeated, loudly. “Close your eyes and deflect my attacks, no peeking now!” his raised eyebrows and tilted head on the word peaking, suggested to Lilian that she should make a show of closing her eyes. As she shut them slowly, just enough so that any observer would think her sight impeded, she began to find the whole situation quite funny. Here she was, pretending to close her eyes whilst on top of a mountain whilst being stalked by a killer and trained by a mad man who made deals with demons like anyone else might buy fish in a market. She suppressed a giggle as that would have given the game away entirely and the whole venture would be a waste. Admittedly it was still hard to deflect the soft slaps and jabs that Attorcop was sending her way, but then again, this was probably a good thing as it helped maintain the illusion. Still, she was sure Attorcop had made her do this just to annoy her. Then, like an alligator emerging from the depths, Lilian saw a hooded figure appear from behind a tree trunk. As soon as she spotted them they began to run. They had chosen their moment to strike and Lilian was witnessing the attack in real time. They had a small distance to cover from the trees to the stone shelf but they did so at lightning speed. Through her eyelashes Lilian could see their blade in their hand, reflecting the light of the sun. She held her breath to see what would happen when they crossed the chalk threshold. They crossed it at maximum speed and Lilian almost gasped in shock as they first put one foot, then the other over the outer rim of stones. Had the contract not worked, she thought. Lilian presumed all was lost, the demon had lied to Attorcop, she was about to call out when something strange began to happen. The birds of prey above them were still circling and spying, the insects were still buzzing about their day, even Mr Attorcop was moving and behaving normally, but the strange, hooded figure began to slow down. Lilian watched as their limbs started to drag as if they had been plunged into a pit of mud and were being told to sprint their way out. Each footstep suspended the stranger in the air for longer and longer and as the knife sprang forward to attack the back of Attorcop’s neck it moved so slowly that Attorcop had time to calmly turn around to face his attacker. Lilian’s eyes were well and truly open by now and she gazed in amazement as the knife slowed more and more until it finally stopped, a hair’s breadth from Attorcop’s exposed throat.