The Knight of Tanner's Square

The Knight of Tanner’s Square

Volume Two of the Two Orphans Series

by: Malaki Stevens

The mother and father dwelled for centuries alone at first. In their infinite wisdom, they thought it best to share their eternal love with others. The father took saplings from their home called Osiris, and breathed life in them.

The gods’ offspring were brought up understanding virtue, compassion, and wisdom with love above all, and when they became of age, Xarl performed his second miracle, and with a touch of his almighty hand, blessed his female children with children in their wombs.

Their sons and daughters became the first, given the name of the Grimm, raised in obedience and love for the mother above all else. They prospered in the union of marriage, creating the first tribes, and worshiping the Father for he was all giving.

The Gospel of Xarl

Loreto 2

Two Billys had the wagon on two wheels rounding a bend as they closed hard to the village. It had happened so fast, Edmund recalled. The limb broke, and it was a terror as he loosed his arrows at any dog he could see.

His brother, Harwin, was fighting as hard as he could when he landed on his feet in a desperate rescue, slashing with such savagery, trying to get the wolfhounds off of Osmond where he fell.

Edmund focused his shafts on the surrounding hounds until he spent his arrows, hoping his brother could pull his bearded friend free.

Tears were streaming down his face as he looked at his mate; he knew Osmond would not survive. They tore away his face and throat in chunks. A bloody shroud was gushing and he couldn’t recognize him anymore.

Edmund didn’t even remember jumping down afterward but recalled slashing at any rabid mouth in his path with his stabbing sword and dirk.

He slashed blindly, trying to free Julius, who was slinging his dirk in wild strokes to save his brother. It was a wonder his friend didn’t stab himself in the flurry, or Edmund even. The attack was such a frenzy of panic, he never realized how many hounds had sunk their teeth into him.

Harwin fought with more structure. He hacked, then stabbed at the dogs as if he were back in the practice yards. His brother slew many, but more took their place as the vicious bites of wolfhounds kept descending upon him. Mero then ran out of shafts, killing several more before he jumped into the fray.

The forager, or whatever he might have been, was as good with a sword as with his bow. He and Harwin were what saved them — the two were a tempest of whirling steel as they slew the hounds in piles from their fury.

Edmund darted through the path they cut and grabbed Osmond, throwing him on his back. His fear gave him a strength he didn’t know he had, lifting his limp body, grabbing Julius by the arm beside him, as they ran to Two Billys wagon.

Harwin helped him, he thought. He wasn’t sure when they made it to the buckboard. His eyes fixed on Osmond’s bloody body lying within, with Julius sprawled over him in a loathsome wail.

He was in terrible shape himself, his left arm covered slickly in blood, twisted and hanging.

Julius was dragged by that arm by a hound when he cut him free. Observing his friend’s face covered in bites. They tore the flesh, and Edmund noticed several upon his arms and legs as well, trying to gather his wits while wiping his eyes free of blood and tears.

The dogs kept coming, but Harwin and Mero were slashing and then his brother yelled at him, “Get us out of here, Edmund!” And before he could think, he was driving the buckboard in a panic.

It was the luck of the gods that the horses could calm themselves in such carnage. The sharp screams of his brother had gotten him focused as they were running alongside him, cutting any hound that followed. How many they had killed, he did not remember, but the two cut a path as the horses whinnied, then ran.

A dog had jumped onto him. He stabbed out with his sword in hopes it would hit something as the dog clamped his fangs into his shoulder. His blind stroke bit as he heard a sharp yelp, and the dog fell off him, crashing onto the ground as the wagon kept going.

Harwin and Mero were alongside him, clinging to a rail on the buckboard’s side. He could see a blur of a hound jump as Mero cut him down mid-air.

Harwin climbed up in the wagon, cursing as he fought another hound that had jumped up in the buckboard with him. A huge dog then jumped and took Mero off the wagon, slinging him hard by his cloak as Harwin was stabbing another one that jumped upon him.

Edmund looked for Mero as he wrestled his arm free and buried a dirk into a hound that jumped onto the bench with him.

A great wail went out from behind them, and it was such a shrill that the horses reared and almost collided with one another as the wagon slowed to a stop. The momentum carried Harwin into Edmund as the two of them nearly fell out of the wagon’s front.

He could hear the dog snarling as Harwin was trying to keep his arm from being mangled as other dogs piled onto the wagon.

The shrilling wail from behind ended, and in an instant, the dog’s anger stopped. Harwin recovered and pushed away from the dog that moments ago wanted to eat his throat.

A hound was near him, oddly staring at them, docile now, and licked his hand tasting the blood. Edmund was trying to push his brother up, helping him stand, then Harwin, in anger, stabbed the bewildered dog. The hound bellowed in pain, then died after a slow, suffering groan.

The dogs scattered as Mero worked his way free, running to the wagon and yelling wildly to startle them as the pack ran in all directions, barking aloud. “Hurry! I will follow you in the other wagon that stranger was in,” he yelled.

Two Billys sprang from his sanctuary as Edmund recovered the reins, snapping them hard and sending the horses into a rush. The little man was in a panic at the horror that awaited him, screaming in confusion as Harwin shook him hard, snapping him out of his terror.

The Loreton recovered and scampered to take over from Edmund to get them back to the village.

Edmund, in a rush, jumped back in the rear of the speeding buckboard. They’d ravaged his brother, his bracers chewed, as was his face. The front of his armor was soaked in blood as he was trying to nudge Julius.

“The gods don’t take him too,” he cried out as Julius responded with a deep groan, his poor arm limp and mangled, his fingers mauled and bitten off. Their mate’s left ear was chewed to shreds with blood oozing from the bites in his neck.

They both wept and his head began a woeful spin until Two Billys got them back to the village. Edmund was so stunned that he collapsed, holding himself up with his arms. His brother was pale and bled out, he thought, as he slumped onto the buckboard’s side rail.

The commotion when they arrived made his ears ring as the people from Loreto helped them. They led him off the wagon in a daze and he tried to stand in a stupor as they hauled away Julius in a haste.

Harwin was next, he thought, carried by several as he watched his brother taken into a stone and timber dwelling next to the one they occupied.

He became dizzy, and his heart pounded as he felt a sea of arms grab him. They walked him to a dwelling, confused and disoriented, as he was sitting up in a bed, and then a warm, fragrant wine was under his nose.

Hearing the word drink and the cup held to his lips, he sipped, and his mind fell into a fog, and the fog carried him away into the darkness.

It was daylight when his eyes opened, suffering from a thick thirst as he tried to beg forgiveness. A woman was looking at him and then spoon-fed him water as he struggled to swallow. The moisture unleashed a want for more, but he got it in small rations.

“Sip. Good. Sip,” she said in a thick accent, over and over as he welled with tears. He was mumbling, and he tried to rise. Then an elderly man spoke to him and he spoke well.

“Don’t move, son, you need to be still and just listen. I will sit here and hold your hand.”

“Etric,” Edmund whispered.

“Yes, but please don’t speak. Just sip and listen,” Etric answered. “You have been here several nights. We gave you something to calm your heart. Your body went into a deadly spasm and shook in convulsions. Just keep sipping, lad.”

Etric squeezed his hand. “Your brother will live. If that comforts you. We’re even giving hope we can save the other lad. He will be less an arm and crippled.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Just sip, lad, and close your eyes. You need to rest and it’s pointless to keep speaking.”

When Edmund awakened next, it was from a horrid dream; guilt was heavy upon him as moments from the tragedy entered his thoughts and had him demoralized.

The woman that attended him sent a girl away as he was looking around, realizing he was in the dwelling Pietro had quartered them in earlier. He didn’t see his brother or Julius.

His head was numb, weak, as he asked how long he was out of sorts to a woman who looked middle-aged. She had her hair tucked under a muffin hat, cleaning off his face with warm linen.

They covered him in an earthen poultice, smelling of mud amongst other queer things as the woman was shaking her head and mumbling in the Loreton tongue, a prayer if he had to guess.

“You had a good rest, another several nights passed, midday now,” she answered, noticing his eyes upon her.

“I need to see my brother,” Edmund tried to say.

“You eat,” the woman said as she helped pull him up. Two younger women arrived with a cart; he could smell the food and it unlocked an unbelievable hunger. They spoon-fed him broth like a child as the woman warned him not to move. He was getting his focus, eating another bowl of broth, when Two Billys came through the doorway.

“Hello, lad. Etric thought you needed someone to speak your language a little clearer,” Two Billys said with a warm smile. “The lady here is Bess — she is Pietro’s daughter. Etric has been diligent, having the best women shed their duties and help you and the others.”

“Harwin and Julius?”

“Your brother should sip broth tomorrow. He has improved, and it’s been an amazing thing, watching the two of you. This miracle has started quite a commotion amongst the folks here,” Two Billys said while patting Edmund with his hand. “Your friend will live, but it will take time before he is ready.”

“Why was I given such a potent tonic? I don’t understand,” Edmund asked, still shaking off the grogs.

“You ran such a fever, you were in a much worse shape than you know,” Two Billys told him. “They gnawed you up awful, those rabid dogs, your brother even worse, but to look at you today, it’s a blessing.”

“That is why the talk here is heavy. Only the mother, Lupretia could have blessed you in such a way, her miracles here have emboldened our faith.”

“I don’t understand?” Edmund said, looking dumbfounded.

“Etric will explain better than I. It’s not my place to give you an impression through ignorant eyes. I’m just thankful for what you received.”

Edmund thought the man was still in shock, and his thoughts were coming back in floods now. “And Mero?”

Two Billys scratched his chin, looking for words. “He is fine, helping with bringing in the hounds. You wouldn’t believe how many; a good ninety are being burnt in a pyre.”

“The other man?” Edmund asked, remembering him. “The man trying to hide?”

“Don’t know, even Mero said nothing about it. I never got to lay eyes upon this other man. I was hiding, remember?” Two Billys looked like a poor fool, trying to explain. “I guess he is dead.”

Bess interrupted their conversation, giving him a broth with potatoes, carrots, and onions boiled into mush as Two Billys and Bess spoke in Loreton.

He drank it slowly, wishing he understood the language that was being spoken. More questions he asked from Two Billys, but the Loreton only repeated the same things about knowing little and promising to come back and they would walk, maybe even ride in the wagon if he felt well enough.

They stuck him with Bess’s quiet company, but she was allowing him to stand for a few seconds. When time passed, he ate a more solid stew and his appetite was still voracious while they helped him, walking feebly around the floors, as his mind raced with anxiety as Pietro returned to have a look at him.

The man had a friendlier manner toward him now, with a lad carrying a small keg behind him. “Full moon now, you drink with Pietro.” The elder helped him back to his bed and then gave him a good slap on the shoulder.

He looked to be flush from the spirits as he had the keg placed on a table near Edmund, turning the tap and filling a tin goblet. “Here, you drink,” Pietro grunted, then poured the second goblet for himself.

It was hearty, with a nutty taste, and Edmund found it better than the swill in Breeston, less bitter. His thirst desired it, and he emptied the cup in a gulp as Pietro laughed and slapped him again upon the shoulder.

“You see brother tomorrow, you see Etric tomorrow,” Pietro assured him. “This drink good? Me and Etric brew it; we celebrate because you help us. The dogs gone, Etric will explain.”

He was drinking another cup after Pietro filled it, telling him that the village was busy in his crude way, harvesting in a flurry because the dogs made it difficult for them.

They rarely worked during the full moon, but they made an exception with heavy drinking at night. The man must have slapped Edmund on the back countless times, laughing at something funny that only he knew.

“You keep drinking. Drink up and eat everything,” he said over and over amongst loud laughs until the ale made Edmund doze off in a stupor.

When he awoke this time, he was drinking water in buckets while eating bacon rashers with warm bread. Two Billys had arrived shortly after with more ale, but Edmund declined. “That old man drowned me in it, and I need to get my bearings before doing that again.”

“Pietro is a healthy drinker, and I have had many cups with him. You ready to take a ride?” he asked Edmund, smiling as if he wasn’t giving him a choice. “Etric told me to drive you around the fields, then after that, you are to visit your brother and dine with Etric tonight.”

“Sounds like he had made my mind up for me,” Edmund replied, looking at him, bewildered.

Two Billys snickered and nodded his head yes. He then told Edmund to bathe and spared him no modesty as Two Billys urged him to drop his wares — they had to be burned. “Etric had things made for you; it’s a gift. You bathe and I will bring them in,” the Loreton insisted.

Edmund, not wanting to argue, proceeded to take off his wools, trying to stay covered as Bess and another younger woman lacked concern about the discomfort of him being proper.

They declined to leave or turn away as other women brought in heated water to a large tub that had been brought while he slumbered.

One of them took his wares as he wrapped himself in his bed linen while walking over to a young girl that was waiting for him. “She needs the linen to burn,” Bess told him with a wave of the hand.

They stood, motioning for him to hurry, so he had no choice but to face them nude and get into the water. He endured the younger girl blushing while staring as it embarrassed him, and even further embarrassment followed.

While trying to relax in the steaming water, the blushing girl lathered up a rag and scrubbed him.

“I can do this myself,” Edmund protested.

“Nonsense,” Two Billys said, overhearing as he walked back through the door. “My wife bathes me every night, it’s what women do here.”

“It is not decent.”

“You worried about having something touched?” Two Billys laughed. “That’s the best part of the bath. Don’t fret. She won’t hurt you, just don’t offend her by getting stiff. She is a maid and you’ll deal with her paw,” he mentioned, then howled with laughter.

He endured his scrubbing, and the woman held a long hemp towel as he stood nude and dried himself. They were paying him no mind, taking the things that Edmund was lying upon to burn and bringing new linens to put on the bed.

“They do it for better fortune. Try not to take it as an offence. Let’s get dressed and get out, I can only imagine how you feel being bedridden for so long.”

Edmund didn’t feel bedridden, just hungry, and he didn’t want to go. He would rather look in on his brother, but Two Billys promised him later.

“He is well, maybe even standing when you return,” he added as Edmund got into the buckboard, feeling worn and bruised as Two Billys took them around the fields.

The man talked about farming, and he talked non-stop as Edmund listened, and he had to wonder, this is what Harwin must feel when I’m rambling.

“Do you ever think of yourself in a different life, in a city like Lonoke or Breeston?” Edmund asked, enduring sharp pain when the wagon ran over a stone or hit a hole.

He had many thoughts since his exile, and since leaving Faust the thoughts of escaping these past misfortunes have made him think of new directions.

“Why, yes, once. I know what you’re thinking, lad.” Two Billys let out a big laugh. “You thought we’d be something different, didn’t you? Have a grand city and wear fine wares, buried in riches and such. I asked Mero about folks like you. Those things mean nothing to us Loreto folk.” The man then stared at him sternly.

“I have wondered what your world is like. We all do when we are young lads; it’s a wildness inside that gets tempered when we are matched.

The elders chose my wife for me, and it wasn’t easy. I had a lust for other women and I broke rules,” Two Billys replied, glancing at him while waiting on a reply, but Edmund kept stoic as the Loreton spilled his tale.

“The elders even whipped me and gave me a good talking to on my responsibilities. My wife had a child and then it made sense. I quit being the laggard and worked hard, pulling my weight in the village, and the mother blessed me with another child, a rarity among us.

They will grow up, be matched, and be given lands to continue the mother’s work. We pray to her to look over us, and she has, and we don’t need stone walls or cities, or to chase riches.

Those are petty things; we follow the rules set by the mother. We always have and we always will. We don’t spill blood, and we have the mother’s protection in the hedge.”

“Until Mero,” Edmund said, interrupting him. “What is his story, and why isn’t he being detained? Why isn’t he being attended like me?”

“When I first saw the man, I went to town and was laughed at. They didn’t believe me,” the Loreton said with his eyes looking upward, thinking a moment before continuing.

“The man never bothered me. He was a shadow. It wasn’t much longer before others spotted him, and it created a bunch of rumors. He remained in the woods far away when he was foraging.”

“It wasn’t until he found a body that things got complicated; he left them on the roads to be discovered. Medgar tried to send word to him, but how do you find a forager if he doesn’t want to be found?” Two Billys laughed out.

“What changed his mind?” Edmund asked.

“He found three lads in the hedge. The wildness of youth had made them lose their wits, and they had to try what nobody else had succeeded, to leave Loreto. So, he came to my door, scared me breathless, and from then on, we have been friendly.”

Two Billys paused, scratching his chin and changing the subject. He asked Edmund about what brought them here to their lands. The question made him grin, knowing this was why Two Billys had him here, to begin with. So he told the Loreton the truth, though not the entire detail of their journey.

It was time to drop the aliases. Whatever he told, he would relay it to Etric. The farmer’s job was to measure him and make sure he wasn’t devious, but he wasn’t sure why at the moment. Edmund knew their hospitality ended when Julius was fit to travel.

“Will Mero be coming by?” he asked. Two Billys just shrugged, claiming ignorance of what the man was doing as they stopped and helped him from the buckboard. As they walked a few fields, he could see the Loreto people hard at work trying to clear barley.

“If you were in the trading business, you could make money. The Guild pays good gold for such a bounty,” Edmund remarked, looking outward. “You all eat well. I haven’t had its equal, and I was privy to fine meals.”

Two Billys looked at him in ignorance as he tried to explain the workings of the Triad while they strolled, showing him a silver oak, and he laughed silly at it while twirling it in the air.

The man took an interest in the dirk Edmund was wearing, looking at it as if it had fangs and could bite him at any moment. The man’s curiosity made Edmund sad.

Their intrusion here was a grave error. Mero taking them into this land was a complicated thing, and to these people, he was nothing but a barbarian.

When Two Billys returned him to the square, Pietro was waiting for him. “You see brother now,” he said while slapping Edmund’s back. Edmund tossed Two Billys that oak he showed him. “Keep it as a token, a reminder of our meeting.” As if he could ever forget, he thought.

His brother was awake when he arrived, complaining while standing around and demanding an audience. “An audience with whom?” Edmund asked, happy to see his brother well. Harwin wasn’t in the same mood.

“You are well, and clean, too. I am in a long hemp dress!” He looked over with a sour stare.

“They detained me elsewhere,” Edmund explained.

“They keep pawing at me. I have told them I am fine, but they keep talking that language and burning my clothes. I don’t know what to do.” His brother then noticed Pietro. “You! I want my clothes, my leathers, and my sword!”

“They will return it, brother. They made me these wares; look, it’s soft wool.”

“It’s brown. You look like a crofter from Hayston,” his brother replied, annoyed. “I’m not interested. I’m starving and where is Julius? Where is Osmond’s corpse?”

“Pietro, can you at least get him some food? He is beyond broth and soup. If you do that, his temper will ease.”

“You don’t speak for me. I will ease when my questions are answered. Where is that damn Mero?”

Pietro barked out to the women in his language and they scrambled like foot soldiers. “They bring food. Etric is coming,” he said as Harwin quit his tirade for the moment, glancing about in annoyance.

“What do you know?” he growled at Edmund.

“I know that Julius will live, but he lost his arm,” he replied with deep grief.

Harwin took the news hard. “You should have bloody listened.”

“I know, I am sorry for that. I didn’t see the danger.” Edmund was close to welling tears. “We made a choice, we all were—”

Harwin slapped him and it spun him around. His head throbbed and his legs wobbled. The slap startled Pietro, who ran out of the dwelling.

“You owe that man now! You made that choice, you fool!” Harwin growled out. “We both owe him,” he says slowly, crying himself.

The door startled them as women returned with food; the smell had distracted Harwin, who was as famished as Edmund was earlier.

He sat, forgetting his tirade as they served him, smiling at every young girl while many blushed in return as he acted a fool. Edmund watched him eat like a horse, standing there, stunned and glancing back at him.

“You need to have confidence in me again, listen to my warnings next time.” Harwin reminded him. “I will never forgive myself for not saving Osmond.” his brother slumped as he sat, moaning at the disaster.

Walking slowly, Edmund compliantly calmed himself, pulling up a seat as Etric and Pietro returned in a rush. “They are not fighting?” Etric said.

“He was getting a harsh lesson! Something you cowards wouldn’t understand,” Harwin bit back at Etric. “I want to see my friend and the one I couldn’t save. You have a problem with that, old man?”

“I will allow it. You can pay your respects to the deceased one,” Etric said, bowing. “I want to offer our services to bury him along with our kind. He will be remembered among us as the most honorable, a celebration we reserve for our elders,” Etric answered quickly, startled at his brother’s harsh tone.

“I came by to offer my extreme apologies. Your friend gave his life for our protection and helped us when we lacked the skill. We are indebted to him forever.” The elder’s words softened Harwin, upsetting him as he shook his head.

“I apologize for my behavior. It was my brother’s folly that has put us here. I will apologize for him, as well.”

Etric bowed to him again as Harwin was digging into a rack of crusted lamb. “Best food I have ever had. Wouldn’t you say the same, brother?”

“It is,” Edmund mumbled, rubbing his chin from Harwin’s slap.

“I bring ale,” Pietro said happily.

“Now you are spoiling me,” Harwin replied, forgetting his shaming of him.

“Allow me to entertain your brother, Edmund, isn’t it? You told us while out of sorts,” Etric said.

“He doesn’t buy that Leland crap either. I’m Harwin.” His brother’s brashness had struck the elder dumb-witted.

“You go on, brother, I will be okay with this lamb and ale,” his brother said between bites. “I will check on Julius and inform you when you return. You tell Mero I want to see him; I have words saved for him,” he remarked, then chewed his food more.

“And another thing, Edmund. I’m sorry I struck you, but you need to understand how this has played out. You can pout, but you think about what you have to do for Julius. You think on that hard!”

His brother’s words left him stinging worse than his slap as Edmund had his mind racing while traveling with Etric. What does this man want? was going through his mind as Two Billys took them by wagon to the elder’s cottage.

It was on a hill overlooking the village half a league away. The cottage was larger than most he had seen, but it was hardly a dwelling of the man’s rank.

His father’s manse was five times its size and more elegant. Etric’s cottage was hewn logs of chestnut, plastered with powdered stone and horsehair that hid in vines and moss.

The shutters were open, and the cottage had glass windows, its only luxury. The place was lit with lamps and Edmund could smell cooked meat.

The cottage was simply furnished, and a hearth was lit in the sitting quarters as they walked past the kitchen. Etric pointed to a smaller room that butted against it with a dining table and chairs.

“Please sit, Edmund,” Etric said while pulling out a chair for himself. “Two Billys will take you back; he is not privy to our discussion.” Edmund obliged as Edmund had noticed another younger woman was in the kitchen across from them.

“My daughter Serese.”

“I was expecting something more attended,” Edmund replied, being cordial. “Not a personal audience.”

“No offense, but I am assuming we are to tolerate each other until our friend can travel, then Mero can lead us back to Breeston.” He studied the man, his reddish-brown locks made him look wise, but Etric couldn’t be much more than forty, Edmund thought.

“How did you come by Mero? He has told me much about you — he seems to favor you over the rest. Can you explain why?” Etric asked while the daughter served them. The youth paid them no mind as she put a roasted pheasant onto a pewter plate.

“It smells good. Your hospitality has been beyond any I have experienced,” Edmund said kindly. “Mero … In politeness, I should tell you of our encounter.”

Edmund described every detail he could recall since they met in Lonoke; he didn’t think he should withhold much from the man. Etric was enjoying his ale, then chuckled when Edmund was going into the uncle story, the abduction of an envoy, and Mero’s politeness, he mentioned, on hunting the hounds.

“You look as though I’m telling you a different story about the man?” Edmund asked, giving him a long look. “I’m curious as to what he has told you. More curious, as to why I have not seen him since we have been in your care?”

“I’ve heard the uncle story, sitting in silence years ago when he told our last chief, Medgar,” Etric said. “The truth is, we know of no uncle. He has been the only one we have ever seen wandering here. His trespassing began over seven years ago. I am sure Two Billys told you his tale,” Etric said.

“What else has the man lied about?” Edmund asked.

He sat, waiting for clarity from the older man as the young woman arrived from the kitchen with ale. “My daughter thinks you taller men are fascinating,” the man chuckled changing the subject.

Maybe she was fourteen or fifteen, plainly dressed but covered, and leaving nothing distinct for a man’s imagination. She smiled at him under a muffin hat that hid her hair. Edmund was cordial but said little as he sipped. A plain girl that Etric mentioned that would marry soon, and he would be alone.

“You saw our village, so I’m curious as to your opinion?” Etric asked.

Edmund had no reply at that moment. The contrast in culture between them had him searching for something that wouldn’t offend his host.

“Maybe the word is simple, a little old in the tradition. Are those the words you are seeking?” Etric asked him while his daughter went back to the kitchen. The man quickly went back to discussing Mero.

“I know of no envoy that was taken. We haven’t needed to send one except weeks ago,” Etric said while Edmund sipped his ale. “Did Mero mention that he knew of our condition before he departed Lonoke? Medgar sent an envoy to him before he died, asking him to aid us.”

“Is he a friend to you as he says he is?” Edmund asked.

“The man was never invited to our village, and trespassing on us is not friendly. How he knew the secret of the hedge has frightened our people, lad. Nobody has entered our lands in two millennia,” Etric said.

“The hedge is that old in our journals. Our walls have served their purpose well and kept us secluded. Imagine our shock at knowing a man found a way in. Only a few know the way.”

“He is remarkable for a Nuhrish man,” Edmund admitted.

“A Nuhrish man.” Etric shook his head and chuckled. “How do you make a man that has no reason to fear you explain his rudeness?” Etric asked.

“He has taken your kind nature for granted.”

“It has caused a great dilemma for me, Edmund. He will forage and then leave soon. He doesn’t care about anyone except himself,” Etric said after swallowing a bite.

“I have requested that he let me arrange your departure. He wanted us to give him what you owed him in trade, so he is taking a lot of tortoise leaf with him.”

“The leaf is worth a great deal more.”

“Money is not my issue,” Etric said. “My issue is that I am powerless. We had to beg a monster to help us, and in return, we’re stuck with him. I had wondered if you could kill him for us, but his prowess is beyond you and your brother.”

“Harwin would disagree with you, but I fear you are right,” Edmund said.

“He is angry, your brother,” Etric probed.

“The reason we are here is because I wanted to come. He was against it from the start. A misfortune blocked our path home, an unfortunate circumstance. This way was shorter and easier than a ship, I thought. They had no insight into what this place was,” Edmund admitted.

“I made it worse by swaying them into helping Mero. He felt the hospitality you had given us was an attempt for our help through obligation.”

“He is more intelligent than he looks,” Etric remarked. “Mero praised his bravery, said he was a valiant warrior but very difficult. He wanted to speak with you, Edmund, but I begged him to leave you be.”

He could see this bothered the elder. “He may disregard my request — what can I do? I can only advise you to avoid him, lad.”

“He is a pious man, avid about the Gospel of Xarl,” Edmund said in his defense. “Other than his habit of trespassing, is there more to him?”

“He spouts that gospel; I’m aware of the book. There are some similarities in what we follow, but our words are from the source herself.”

“Pardon me, Etric, you speak as if you have knowledge beyond what is written in our lands.”

“We have a recorded history for over three millennia, Edmund.”

The thought of that had his interest. “I won’t lie, I’d love to look through it. What would you care to share?” It piqued his curiosity.

“Nothing much. It’s a boring read most of the time. Crops, yields, marriages, births, but every hundred or more droll pages may have something interesting. I will be frank, I have never read the whole thing,” Etric replied.

“You know, the real usefulness of our religion is nothing more than reinforcement. My people believe strongly because they need reinforcement that the hard work they put into the fields has a purpose.”

“I believe this because it reinforces me to preach to the youth that if you follow Lupretia’s word, then you will be forever in her graces. Our faith keeps them in line, it helps them feel secure within our lands.”

“To keep you corralled, and why is that?” Edmund asked. “The western men of Abingdon were not in your borders then. What danger would arise to encase a people this way?”

“Are you familiar with history?” Etric asked, then chuckled. “I may have said too much then. They were to protect us from the Grimm.”

“They are your cousins in the books I have read. Is that false?”

“That is a fact, but they treated us cruelly. Even with the mother watching us, there were too many for her to keep her eyes on. The Grimm broke the rules out of her presence, they never held our aversion to weapons as respectable.”

“They viewed us as weak and would have enslaved us if it weren’t for the hedge. Lupretia knew long before she and the father left this world that we needed protection.”

“Our folk is docile, but her favorites because we understand love.”

The elder held up his hands in protest as Edmund had many questions to ask. “Let’s get back to our discussion here,” he said, requesting more ale as his daughter complied. They sat quietly for a moment before Edmund asked another question.

“Do you have an answer for why Mero wants to converse with me?” Edmund asked as the strong brew tingled inside him.

“He’s fascinated with your bow. His mouth slipped and enlightened me on that,” Etric said. “He believes since he helped with the hounds, it has warmed me to his presence here. Avoid this man, Edmund. He is misguided.”

“We can only ask for your forgiveness, only wanting to bring our friend Julius home. We vow you won’t see us again,” Edmund declared in hopes of ending this odd inquiry. His thoughts went back to Julius and the sad state he was in at the moment.

“That reminds me,” Etric said, ignoring him.

“Mero brought me the hound, the biggest one he killed. Are you aware of this? He made it a point to bring it here to show me,” Etric remarked, booming a laugh at Edmund when he staggered while rising. “The ale is good — I brew it with Pietro.”

“You could make a fortune with it in Breeston. It’s far better than the Guild’s,” Edmund praised. “I have plans on buying an inn back in Breeston, and this would create a commotion if I possessed such a specialty.”

“A kind compliment, Edmund, but I insist you come with me.”

He followed Etric to a stairway that descended to his cellar. “This dog. I believe it was the one that flung him from our wagon,” Edmund rambled out, descending the stairs. “He killed it, I guess, moments before the fury of the dogs subsided. It was eerie.”

“There was a reason for that, lad,” Etric said. “There he is, have a look, lad.”

Edmund was looking for a dog, and he found a corpse in the small room below. The body was resting on three kegs stacked side by side with a fur upon it.

He looked around for a hound but only noticed root vegetables and other kegs of ale along the walls. “Who is this man?” he asked.

“Do you remember the one who appeared on the wagon?” Etric asked.

“So this is that man? A fool,” Edmund remarked. “Where is this dog you mentioned?”

“There it is,” Etric told him while pointing at the corpse. “They are the same. Have you ever read about sorcery?”

Edmund stared at the dead man. He had no bites on him. He was bloated and cut along the throat and stabbed in the side of his ribs.

“You are trying to say he could transform into a dog? The hounds…?” Edmund’s mind was racing; he wasn’t sure what he was being told.

“I can inform you that sorcery is real and practiced back in the days of the gods. This man here I have known since he was a lad, a troublesome boy, a thief, and now a graverobber.”

“We should have had him killed, but we abhor execution, so Medgar exiled him from the village. This monster used the black art to possess those hounds, to kill us, Edmund.”

“The hounds—?”

“Were our own dogs,” Etric interrupted him. “They have served as protectors for us since we bred them. I want Mero gone, so we can search the woods to see where this lad had found such a power.”

“This is Grimm magic, a magic forbidden in these lands. I need to know if he found a tome or relic, so nobody else finds it.”

“And what will make him leave?”

“He has promised me he will leave soon, focusing on his herbs while you are recovering. I have promised him things, and it has him filled with greed,” Etric added.

“What did he say about this? Surely this frightened him?” Edmund asked.

“He implied to lack knowledge of such things — why else bring me the body?” Etric then glared seriously at him.

“Do not tell my people about this. Keep this a secret, lad. My people are fearful enough, and withhold this knowledge from your brother or the poor lad we barely saved.”

“Tell them after you leave if you must, but I recommend discretion when telling tales such as this, lad.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“Don’t tell Mero we had this discussion. If he leaves as he promised, then we will talk later; I have something else to ask of you.”

Edmund wondered what that was, but Etric gently nudged him back upstairs, refraining from further conversations as he thanked him for his time.

Etric said little, making it clear their time was over as he climbed back on Two Billys’ buckboard and headed back to the square. The old man wanted something from him, his mind trying to guess while the wagon forged ahead.

Edmund returned to Harwin late, and he brought him to Julius’s bedside. He could open his eyes and see them, but he looked dreadful.

His left arm was now a stump, heavily bandaged, with an earthy poultice over his wounds. He wanted to cry but worried that Harwin might strike him again. His eyes got a glimpse of the top piece of his left ear, his flesh sewn up from his neck that made him look misshapen.

“Has he spoken to you?” Edmund asked.

“He is too weak. I have tried to talk to him, comfort him as best I could,” Harwin whispered back to him.

“They hope he can sit up and eat in a few days. Pietro says he lacks the vigor we do. I told him we were not as chewed up as him. Look at him. He has been through a horror, brother.”

“I promise to keep him. He will want for nothing. I will get him whatever he needs.”

“You need to do better. He needs to feel useful,” Harwin said. “If he doesn’t, he will just sneak away from us and end his life.”

“He will not be useless,” Edmund promised. “I need his wits; he has much work to do when he gets back to Breeston.”

“And the meeting with the old man? I notice you are drunk on ale.”

“He is feeling me out. He wants to talk again before we leave.”

“Mero?” Harwin asked.

“Hopefully leaving — the old man wants him gone. He wants us gone, too, but he is being cordial.”

“Why is he being all snug with you, then?”

“If I must guess, he wants to ask something that he thinks I can do for him. He thinks I am too young to pick up on his prodding.”

“I lost my temper. I have been in agony since striking you,” Harwin said while putting his arm around him.

“I had it coming, and you were right,” Edmund said, looking upon Julius, and he wept. “I thought I was smart, but I’ve been outfoxed by older and wiser men. Never again, Harwin.”

“We three need to stick together back in Breeston,” his older brother said, embracing him as the effects of the ale caused him to stagger.

“You’re close to passing out; you better quit drinking with older, more seasoned drinkers.” He could barely hear his brother’s words, his head getting comfortable against his shoulder.

They both wept for a long time looking over their friend, taking the blame for losing Osmond. They admitted that both have been humbled and would never be mercenaries again.