Western Kingdom: The Messenger Series, #5

By C Amon Trant

Dargan does not know what happened, but he's officially dead.

Western soldiers appear outside the castle, saying, "This is a warning. We can appear anywhere, anytime. You will leave us alone."

Toby does not know who they are but gets a clue.

"Is í ding di féin a scoileann an dair."

A wedge of itself that splits the oak.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C Amon Trant
• Release date: Dec 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201524364

C Amon Trant

C. Amon Trant is a retired physician, son, brother, husband, and -as his granddaughter so eloquently puts it- "GaGa." 

Book preview

Part I

I

He wanted to scream but couldn’t inhale.

The scent of burned hair was everywhere.

Seared eyes finally focused on barren branches and a flat gray sky.

When he found the proper volume of breath that didn’t rip skin, he glanced right, then left.

Nothing familiar.

A steep slope dropped off to his left.

The frigid wind, scented of rain and kissed by frost, gusted first in the treetops, and then roared down the slope from his right. The flapping cloth of his sleeve pulled away from his more damaged left arm. Before he even knew if his right arm worked, it instinctively grabbed the flapping remnant of a sleeve.

Sitting up brought a whole new definition of pain as his ruined tunic ripped skin from the left chest.

Air sucked in between clenched teeth with each failed attempt to get up. He rolled to one knee and finally stood.

Using the massive trunk of a spike tree for support, he looked for something - anything he might recognize.

He started downhill, but not because he had a choice.

Later, it could have been hours. The wind picked up again, followed by freezing rain that drove him to the leeward side of a tree trunk.

The rain stopped, and he started back down the slope.

A noise froze him in mid-step.

Out of the corner of his vision: it was only one of those flying lizards pouncing on something in the leaf litter.

Wait.

It wasn’t a flying lizard, and it was much further away and three times larger than any lizard he’d ever seen.

With long claws and sharp teeth, the creature slowly pivoted its conical head and locked gazes with him.

The flicking tongue sampled the breeze.

The leaf litter exploded as the predator launched.

A full second later, he realized the lizard was gone.

Happy with his good luck...

Can’t predators attack better from higher ground?

Something in his brain said, Move!

The slope flattened, and a lovely smell captured his attention, bushes with light blue flowers and deep azure berries.

Something moved on the closest bush: a small bluish-green lizard munching on the tiny, enticing fruits.

The breeze changed, all he could smell was burned hair, and his appetite disappeared.

The trees and undergrowth grew thicker, but a gurgling sound ahead pulled him forward.

Finally, the vegetation opened to a lake with water so clear, a leaf on the surface seemed to float in the air. He carefully, painfully, bent his less injured right knee. After giving the water a tiny test sip, he tried to slake his bottomless thirst.

Ekki hreyfa!

He froze.

"EKKI HREYFA!"

Hel... Hello?

Hands!

What?

"Hands!"

His hands now extended as far as he could manage. Slowly stood, but didn’t turn around, not without permission.

The sound of one set of footsteps came closer, followed by the creak of a crossbow ready to fire.

Turn. Turn round. Keep hands where I see ’em.

The man’s accent made the words come from the back of his throat. He also flipped his Rs and ended each sentence by raising the pitch.

Please don’t shoot.

What you doing?

He glanced at the water. Drinking?

What doing — here?

I... I don’t know.

What?

I don’t know.

Talk!!

I... I can’t remember.

Name. Uh... What is name?

For an eternal second, not a single neuron fired.

Name! The crossbow was pointing at his chest.

Dargan. It’s Dargan.

The man slightly lowered the weapon. You are not from around here.

If you say so.

He pointed the tip of the crossbow at his leg. What happened to your clothes?

I don’t know.

"What you remember?

I woke up over there -he pointed up slope with his chin- like this.

You got weapons? His accent made ‘weapons’ sound like ‘veapons.’

Dargan turned his palms up and shrugged.

Open shirt.

Sir?

Do it!

Toby used his less injured right arm to strip the cloth off the left, but he started pulling off skin; air sucked in between his clenched teeth.

The arm was red and blistered along the edge of his fifth finger to the shoulder. Unlike his clothes, none of that skin looked charred.

You don’t know what happened?

No.

Your head is good?

I–I... I don’t know.

The man kneeled and looked at his left leg. How far you can walk?

I... He managed a shrug.

This way. The man pointed his crossbow diagonally up the slope.

Dargan walked ahead and said, That’s unnecessary.

What?

The crossbow.

He didn’t lower the weapon.

The trail was rough, and Dargan did his best to keep pace.

Unsure what to do but not wanting to anger the only person who might help him stay alive, Dargan glanced over his shoulder and said, You lived out here long?

We friends now?

I’d... I’d rather not be your enemy.

He pointed laterally across the slope and to the left. Just over there.

Dargan felt a large blister on his left leg burst. The fabric started rubbing the already raw flesh like sandpaper. Each step was a new record for the worst pain in his life.

You need stop?

I think I can go a little–

They both heard something behind a stand of spike trees.

The man threw Dargan over his shoulder like a sack of vegetables and sprinted across the slope.

Dargan looked back down the trail.

A Spider, about the size of a sheep, sprinting toward them. If Dargan could have crawled inside the man’s shirt, he’d have considered it a good move, regardless of the burns and pain.

Eydis! screamed the man. Opna hurðina!

They entered darkness; it could have been a cave.

Something slammed, like a door.

The man put Dargan down.

Something heavy thudded to his left, like wood banging against a metal frame.

Silence, except for his breathing.

Bang. Something slammed into the door.

His eyes adjusted to the dark.

With each slam, more dust fell from the rafters.

She’ll get bored in a minute, the man said.

It was a small room, a combination kitchen and dining area.

The Spider slammed again, and Dargan could see the heavy wooden door strain against the wooden beam barring the entrance.

Between slams, Dargan said, That happens very often?

I usually pay better attention.

Dargan almost asked why, but nodded. Sorry.

The man scratched a match to life, lit three candles, and said, Let me look at burns.

He helped Dargan with the scorched fabric; his milky skin seemed even paler than usual.

I am Geir.

He used the candle to scan both arms and the back.

"How are legs?

The left one hurts.

Drop ’em?

Excuse me?

Yer pants. Can’t see through ’em.

Dargan hesitated.

Nuna, Geir said.

What?

Um... Now. Do now.

Dargan opened the buttons and gently peeled the fabric off the more severely burned areas on his left thigh and calf.

Geir grabbed a pair of tweezers.

What are you doing?

You want infections?

No, but...

Then let me clean.

Geir plucked threads and stubborn debris in the wounds.

Choice words leaped to Dargan’s mind, but he kept quiet.

From behind him, someone gasped.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw two women, the younger one smirked at his bare backside.

Dargan could not cover up fast enough.

Ah, Geir said as he tossed a blanket to Dargan. My lovely wife, Eydis.

A candle illuminated her lined face from below; she gave him a curt nod.

And my daughter, Vala.

Taller than her mother, as tall as Geir, she had her father’s blond hair, and even from across the room, her pale blue eyes almost glowed.

Without moving the strategically held cloth, he merely nodded.

Geir spoke quickly, then pointed at, Dargan.

After a telling look from her mother, Vala went back to the basement.

Geir cleaned and dressed the worst burns on his leg with an oily substance and then tossed him a clean tunic and pants. Both were too big and threadbare in places, but far better than anything he owned.

"Thank you.

Dargan saw Eydis motion to her husband, and they went into the root cellar. Dargan could hear mumbling from both adults, and the exchange grew more spirited.

Without understanding a single word, the wife’s opinion was obvious.

When Eydis came back in, she would not make eye contact with Dargan.

Dargan said, I appreciate all your kindness, but I need to be moving on.

Oh? Eydis said, barely hiding her relief.

No, Geir said.

She said something in her language.

He wouldn’t get 50 meters from the door.

She shook her head.

Köngulærnar ná í hann.

Geir must have seen Dargan’s expression. Kónguló.

What? said Dargan."

What is Eastern word? Geir said to his daughter.

Um... Vala said, Spider. Her accent made it sound like ‘speeder.’

Right, Geir said with a wink to his blond offspring. The buggers might not be big as where you come from, but they hunt in packs.

You know where I’m from?

Don’t you? Eydis said.

Dargan didn’t know how to answer.

Your clothes and words are eastern, Geir said.

Something tickled his mind, like the glimpse of a familiar face across a huge crowd, then it was gone.

You remember something?

I... I... No, sir. Sorry.

It will come.

Dargan looked at Eydis. I’ll do whatever work I can and pay you back with I’m able.

She tossed him a broom. Start over in that corner.

Geir cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow.

Eydis ignored him.

Dargan limped over and concentrated on getting the newly fallen dust into piles, which meant slow, painful sweeps of the broom.

Vala came over with a dustpan.

Don’t mind Mamma. She’s just worried.

Spiders?

Partly. The hunting has been bad, and the lizards keep getting her crops.

She’s just trying to look after you and your father.

He swept in silence.

What do you remember?

I woke up about a kilometer from here.

Burned?

He nodded.

Guð á himnum.

What?

Oh, um, God in heaven. This must be strange.

He kept sweeping. The Spiders, they come around often?

They are gone most of the year. We avoid each other, and Pabbi shoots any of them that get too nosey.

Dargan nodded. What did your father call them?

Kónguló.

What language is that?

Um. Ours?

II

Dargan picked up the rhythm of the household: everyone was up before dawn. Vala stoked the fire and put the kettle on to boil. Eydis, with her dark scarf already tight around her head, went to the cellar to get potatoes, onions, and dried meat. Geir prepared his equipment for hunting, fishing, or whatever the day required.

Ready, Mamma? Vala said.

Eydis nodded and pulled a string hanging from the ceiling, revealing a doorway to an upper room. A ladder unfolded as she pulled, and both women stepped back and waited.

Is something about to happen? Dargan said.

We had Kónguló in the attic last week, Geir said.

Just the thought of those ten squirming, hairy legs landing on top of him sent a shiver.

But that wasn’t the problem, Eydis said.

Really?

A lizard was trying to eat it. Damned thing nearly landed on me.

Eydis felt about giant lizards like Dargan felt about Spiders. For a microsecond, the mental image of Eydis jumping around and screaming made Dargan smile, but he looked away to hold it together. He looked at Geir, who was doing his best not to smile, too.

They both averted their eyes just in time.

You think something funny? Eydis said.

No. No, ma’am.

She cut her eyes at Geir, who wasn’t trying to hide his smirk.

Eydis mumbled something in her tongue, and even Dargan got the message.

She climbed aloft, followed by Vala.

After clearing his throat, Dargan said to Geir, And that’s why you have two ready crossbows?

Geir managed only a nod.

Dargan, Vala said from the top of the ladder, come up.

The ladder looked like a collection of old sticks lashed together, mainly because it was. He tested the first rung.

Is strong, Geir said.

He continued up. The air was warmer; a dusty mildew smell tickled his nose.

Here, Vala said.

She was kneeling at the corner of the northern and eastern walls, with an opening usually closed and locked by thick shutters. Her mother was in the opposite corner looking out over the southern and western approaches.

Clear, Vala said.

Tvier, said Eydis, holding up two fingers.

The ceiling prevented Dargan from standing, so he waddled over to Eydis.

She pointed out the southern slit, Just inside the tree line.

She leaned back to give him a better look. He saw nothing but trees, but then, there it was, still as a stone, a Kónguló just like yesterday.

What now? he whispered.

Why are you whispering?

Oh. Um, I don’t know.

She pointed and said, Líta út.

Dargan heard a scraping noise. Must have been Geir lifting the massive wooden bar on the