On common ground

This is definitely a multi-parter. We'll see how far I get before work rears its ugly (but lucrative) head. Constructive criticism and advice is welcome.


The night air blew soft and smooth through the glade, mingling scents of earth and pine. Something crunched in the distance, barely audible over the chorus of crickets. There was a snap, and then a rustle.

A man slid through the brush. He paused for a moment, turning his head this way and that, before resuming his steady pace. It was only a few minutes more before he stumbled on the nearby stream, clear water burbling cheerfully in its rocky bed. He smiled. A splash of cold water would be almost as refreshing as sleep, and he was eager to reach the Grove by morning. He had been away long enough. Shifting the cloth bundle on his shoulders, he knelt by the stream.

Someone whimpered. The man stiffened, a cupped hand of water halfway to his mouth. He pondered for a moment, his steady grey eyes staring straight ahead. The whimper came again, louder and more irritated. What in the?oh. He opened his hand and let the water fall back into the pool before reaching around to remove his bundle. The cries intensified as the bundle opened, revealing a very angry infant.

?Shhhh??

The baby wrinkled up his little squashed tomato of a face and screamed. The man awkwardly dandled the infant in one arm while rooting in the bundle with the other. After what seemed like an eternity, his fingers closed around the bottle he had purchased from the last farmstead. He deftly uncorked it with a flick of his thumb and held it up. The child?s lips found the small wick dangling from the bottle, and his cries stopped. He closed his eyes and blissfully sucked at the milk.

My son. The words were still strange in his mind. He tried it again, wondering if a name might make it better. My son, Ahsdale. No, still not right.

Ahsdale opened his eyes, staring up at him. The man smiled, and the child smiled back, letting go of the bottle. He giggled milkily, a bubble bursting on his lips. The man started to relax, finding something to enjoy in this new role. Galia would have found this amusing. She told me more than once that I would lose my own head if she weren?t there to take care of me. But she?s wrong. After all, raising a child on one?s own was not uncommon in nature. The great cycle had often claimed mothers before their time. He would learn to cope.

Pushing the bottle away, the baby tugged on a lock of the man?s greying hair.

?That is my hair, Ahsdale,? he said, though he knew the child would not understand a word.

?Ah ga??

?Hair.?

?Gaa.?

His curiosity exhausted for the moment, Ahsdale squirmed fretfully.

?Do you want more milk??

Ahsdale grimaced and spit up all over the man?s tunic.

That must mean "No."

He gently set the child down on the empty cloth before mopping the sticky mess from his clothing. By the time he had finished, Ahsdale was sleeping peacefully. He smiled and carefully wrapped Ahsdale in his cloth. Ahsdale stirred, but did not wake as the man continued his journey south, deeper into the forests of Tethyr.


***


?Cernd!? A man hurried from the cabin, his arms spread in greeting. His tiny dark eyes twinkled in his seamed face, and every inch of his spare frame seemed to crackle with energy. ?You have returned! Successfully, I hope??

?Yes, Grand Druid.?

?There will be no ceremony between us, old friend. Save such honorifics for the next moot.?

Cernd smiled. ?As you wish, Soris.?

?Come, tell me of your travels.? With a sweep of his hand, he beckoned Cernd inside.

The room was much as Cernd remembered it, a hodgepodge of leaves and roots on every flat surface, awaiting use in any of the hundreds of salves and potions that Soris produced. A sharp woodsy aroma filled the air as the Grand Druid bent, carelessly brushing his work off of a chair. ?Was it as we had feared?? he asked, offering the chair to Cernd.

?Indeed.? Cernd accepted the chair, rejoicing in the knowledge that he would not have to take another step for at least the next half hour. ?The Shadowed Ones had infiltrated the Circle, smothering the land as strangleweed chokes the life from the oak. But they were cast down with the help of??

?GAH! AH GA OOOO!!!?

?What was that??

Cernd blinked for a moment, and then remembered Ahsdale, who was squirming around in his carrying sling. He retrieved his son, hefting him in his arms. ?This is my?er?son. Ahsdale.?

Soris?s white eyebrows twitched with surprise. ?Congratulations. And his mother??

?Dead.?

?Ah.? He bowed his head. ?I am sorry to hear of your loss, but??

?But all return to the Mother?s breast in the end,? Cernd finished automatically. In his mind?s eye, he could see Galia as she had been when they first met, her laughing green eyes and easy smile. She was like a honeysuckle vine, artfully twining herself into one?s heart, and sometimes when their eyes met, he had managed to forget all about the forests and his duty. It did not seem right that she should be gone.

?How did it happen??

?She never told me she was pregnant?she took up with another man. He did not treat her well, and he?he?I am sure he?? Cernd passed a hand over his eyes, unable to speak.

A bony hand touched his shoulder, and he felt calmer. ?It is all right,? said Soris. ?Death may be part of the natural cycle, but it does not make it any less difficult when someone you care for passes away.?

Cernd just nodded, grateful that someone understood.

?In any case, it will be no trouble to raise the boy here. I am sure Foryn will be happy to??

?No.?

?Ah. You are correct, I suppose Foryn is a bit old to keep up with a bundle of energy. Perhaps Carina then, she is still??

Cernd answered softly, but forcefully. ?No, Soris. I wish to raise Ahsdale myself.? Now he hesitated, looking down at the squirming child in his arms. ?I was not there when Galia needed me. She made some poor decisions because she had nowhere else to turn, and she paid with her life. I would not see that happen to Ahsdale. I want to do right by him.?

Soris laid a wrinkled brown hand on his shoulder. ?I understand, Cernd, but what will you do when you are called to serve? Caring for a child is different from planting a tree. You cannot walk away for a season and expect your son to flourish.?

?I am not planning to. Once Ahsdale is older, I will become available for short excursions in the service of the Mother. But, as the larks return to their trees each spring, so would I return to my son.? Cernd glanced at Soris, his heart sinking slightly at his friend?s carefully neutral expression. ?I am not retiring, Soris,? he added.

A flicker of a smile finally showed itself on the old druid?s face. ?You. Retire.? Soris creaked with laughter before sobering. ?I wonder, though, if your choice will be so simple. I have never known you to stay in a place for longer than the turn of seasons.?

Cernd shifted Ahsdale into a more comfortable position, smiling as his son blew bubbles at him. ?How hard can it be??

Ahsdale opened the cupboard, staring up into its dark interior. It was filled with cloaks and muddy boots, and he made a face at the smell of old sweat. But Father had stashed the bottle of honey here, he was sure of it. He just needed to find it.

Emboldened by this conclusion, he climbed into the cupboard and rooted around, holding his nose with one grubby hand. Yes, lots of boring things in here. Why does Father need so many walking sticks anyway? He walks just fine. A small parchment envelope tumbled from the cupboard?s upper shelf, just missing him. Curious, he opened it. Ick. Dried leaves. As if there aren?t enough of them outside.

Another rustling packet fell on him. Ahsdale looked up, absentmindedly rubbing his forehead. It was like the cupboard was trying to hit him. Maybe it was! Maybe it was trying to keep him away from something. Something on the top shelf. It was a long way up, but that wouldn?t stop him. If squirrels could climb trees, then he could get up to that honey.

He carefully hoisted himself up onto the bottom shelf, and then reached up to the next one. It was a struggle, but he was almost?

?Ahsdale!?

Uh-oh.

?Get down from there!?

Ahsdale snuck a peek over his shoulder. Father looked awful mad.

?NOW!?

Oh, he was going to get it. Reluctantly, he clambered down and went to stand before his father.

?What were you thinking?!? Don?t you know that?s dangerous? You could have fallen, you could have been hurt?you should be more careful, Ahsdale!?

?I was careful!?

Father knelt, radiating waves of irritation. ?What were you doing in there??

Ahsdale looked down at his feet. ?Looking for honey,? he admitted.

?I told you, that honey is meant to last us until next season.?

?Yes, Father.? He scuffed a toe in the dirt.

?Patience, Ahsdale.? A rough hand thumped his shoulder. ?The great wheel of the seasons will turn, and Nature will once again cloak the world with green.?

What does that have to do with anything? ?Yes, Father.?

Father awkwardly patted him again before returning to the fire. Before long, he was staring into the flames, lost in contemplation. He could sit like that for hours. He often did.

Ahsdale looked up at the cupboard again. He glanced at Father's hunched back, and then back at the cupboard. He licked his lips, almost tasting that sweet, sweet honey. There had to be a way.

Cernd took a huge breath, filling his lungs with the vibrant air. It was good to be outside again after the little death that was winter. All around him, the woods fairly hummed with the signs of new life. He closed his eyes blissfully. Though my body may roam, my spirit shall always rest here.

?Can we go home now??

Annoyed, Cernd opened his eyes. ?Not yet, Ahsdale.?

Ahsdale heaved an exaggerated sigh and trundled off to kick a rock. Cernd shook his head. He had tried not to think about it, but this parenting thing was really driving him up the wall. You just didn?t get a break. Perhaps it would be easier for someone living in a city, surrounded by the press of humanity day in and day out, but even being with one person was starting to wear on his nerves. In some ways, it was even worse than being on the farm with Galia. He could wander off for a few hours when it got to be too much, but Ahsdale was only seven. He couldn?t leave him alone.

Cernd looked around at the trees again, trying to recapture his earlier exhilaration, but the feeling was gone. He would have worked off his annoyance with a good ramble, but there was the boy to consider. Perhaps they should just go home. But, wait. It was too quiet. What has Ahsdale gotten into now? He craned his head, trying to see where the boy had gone.

It took a few minutes to find him. Ahsdale was sitting under a willow tree, hidden by the drooping branches. He was reaching out to pick a dusky blue flower that grew in a shadowy spot near the roots.

Cernd sprinted over and slapped the boy?s hand away. Ahsdale looked up, surprised. ?What did you do that for?? he whined, rubbing his hand.

?That was a dusklily,? said Cernd, squatting next to his son. ?It is not a good flower to touch.?

?But??

?Hush. Watch.?

Miracle of miracles, Ahsdale obeyed and closed his mouth. They watched in silence for a minute. A bee flew in lazy circles around them. It finally seemed to tire of the game and sagged down to rest on the flower. A moment later, the buzzing stopped, and the bee fell to the ground.

?Why did it do that??

?The petals contain a potent toxin. Perhaps not enough to kill one of your size, but enough to make you quite uncomfortable.?

?Neat. Do people use it for anything??

Cernd stood up and stretched. ?Perhaps for a poisonous draught or some other scourge for the unwary. It has no medicinal use that I know of.?

Ahsdale was still looking at the flower. ?Can we take it home??

?No!?

?Why not??

?I would rather not have it in the house. Even the most agile deer will brush against the leaves.?

?Fine,? Ahsdale muttered to himself, ?I?ll come back and get it later.?

Cernd just sighed and hauled Ahsdale to his feet. He pulled the boy back along the trail, ignoring his loud protests. Perhaps Soris was right. Perhaps I should allow the others of the Grove to have a chance. It is high time for the boy to learn something about the natural world. And it might just keep him out of trouble.

The old druid was talking to the trees again. He had been lecturing on the properties of bark for two hours now. Sometimes he enjoyed these lessons, but today Foryn could be going on about poisoning pigeons for all Ahsdale cared.

A wave of self-pity crested and broke, followed by a hot flash of anger. The feelings tumbled and buffeted him until he hardly knew who he was. Father said it was just growing pains, and spent a great deal of time comparing him to a young buck. Rubbish, that?s what. Father doesn't know a thing about what I think or feel. Otherwise, he would be here.

Ahsdale drummed his fingers on his brown knees. Father was in Nashkel now, on some sort of mission for Soris. Interrogating squirrels or whatever it was that druids did. He glared at the old man?s back. Father had sworn by Silvanus that he would be home in time for his birthday. This just proves that the gods don?t care, cause there sure aren?t any lightning bolts flying around. No, Father will come home late with some flowery apology and a little trinket. Just like the last time, and the last time, and the last time?

?Ahsdale??

He jumped. ?Huh??

Foryn made a tutting noise. ?You really must learn to pay attention, Ahsdale. I asked what sort of bark you would use in a headache remedy.?

?Er?the sort that grows on trees?er??

Tut tut. ?Willowbark. You should know this.?

?Yes, sir.?

"How would you prepare the remedy?"

Ahsdale stared at the ground. "I don't know, sir."

Tut. ?Your father should have taught you these things years ago.?

?Father doesn?t care what I do,? he muttered, not quietly enough.

?He does care, Ahsdale. He just has business to attend to." Foryn paused, and then said, "You'll understand when you get older."

Pfft. No one who says stupid things like that can possibly understand. Ahsdale clenched his fists and forced his face into a bland mask. ?You're right, of course, sir. Let's just get on with the lesson.?

?Home again! And only delayed by a month this time!? Cernd turned to beam at Ahsdale, who was just bringing in the tea. ?Thank you, son.?

?You?re welcome. Father.?

Cernd glanced over the rim of his cup. Yes, there are the signs, the sulky tilt of the mouth, the barely hidden resentment. Teenagers are so difficult. ?Excellent tea, as always. What is in it??

?Mint. Tea. That sort of thing.?

?Ah.? An awkward pause. ?The strength is just right. Foryn has been teaching you well.?

?Really. I was worried it might be too weak. I?ve gotten used to making it for one.?

Silence stretched between them like a thundercloud. Finally, Cernd hopped up and forced himself to smile brightly. ?Yes. Well. Presents??

Ahsdale muttered something that could have been ?Sure,? or ?Why not,? or ?Screw you.? Well, surely not the last one. The boy couldn?t be that angry. Cernd dug a little faster and pulled out a wrapped bundle. He handed it to Ahsdale, who opened it. Inside was a dark blue cloak of tightly-woven wool. Ahsdale held it up, looking a bit surprised. As well he should be. It was enchanted to be lighter than it appeared.

?Nice cloak.?

?I took the liberty of having some minor enchantments placed upon it. Water-repelling, moving in silence, that sort of thing. Even the mighty bear may wish to travel in stealth and comfort.?

Perhaps it was his imagination, but Ahsdale?s expression softened a trifle. ?Thank you. Father.? He folded the cloak and laid it on the table. ?Well. How was Nashkel??

?It is a nice little town. The oak grove to the northeast was interesting. I have never seen such lush growth so early in the season. Quite extraordinary.? He accepted another cup of tea. ?Negotiation with the mining company was less pleasant, however. It seems their new owner is determined to proceed with expansion despite evidence that such hasty action will cause problems in the coming years.?

Ahsdale nodded and raised his cup to his lips.

?Aye, Nashkel is proving a tricky nut to crack, but I shall be as the agile squirrel and find a way to the prize at the core.? Cernd stood, stretching his arms above his head. A joint popped pleasurably. ?As soon as I meet with Soris tonight, I shall be ready to have another go.?

Ahsdale dropped his cup. It shattered, leaving the dark tea free to soak into the packed earthen floor. ?Are you kidding me?? he cried. ?You?ve only been home for two minutes and now you?re going back??

Cernd felt a twinge of guilt, but firmly suppressed it. The boy was young, after all, and couldn?t understand the duties he had to Nature. ?I am sorry, Ahsdale, but??

?I don?t believe this.?

?There is much work to be done. The iron mines are important for the region, but they must be watched, lest they expand too far too quickly. The humble mole does his part in stirring the soil, but left unchecked, he??

?Ah, I was just wondering what sort of forest creature you were planning to compare this to.?

A vein was throbbing in his temple. He could feel it. He was going to have one big headache when this day was through. ?Ahsdale, that was uncalled for. Apologize.?

?No!? The boy leapt to his feet. It was shocking how he had grown. Cernd actually had to raise his chin to maintain eye contact. ?If Mother was still alive, I?m sure she?d have a few things to say about your travelling all the time!?

More than a few, actually. Galia could go on for hours.

?Why can?t I come with you??

?Don?t be difficult. You would end up sitting in the inn and getting into trouble. When you get older, you?ll understand.?

?No! I won?t!? Ahsdale angrily wiped his eyes and wrenched open the door to his room.

?Ahsdale! Come back here this instant!?

The door slammed, causing ripples in Cernd?s tea. He sighed and finished it. No, he hadn?t handled that very well. But what else could he do? He needed to go back to Nashkel and that was that.

Cernd put down the cup and rested his weary head on his hands. Why does the boy have to be so unreasonable? He is fed, sheltered, cared for. He really has nothing to complain about. Sometimes I wish things were different. I wish that Galia was still alive, still in Athkatla. She would care for the boy, and I would be free to live my life.

He snorted, shaking his head at his own foolishness. Time could not be undone, the sun could not be whisked backwards across the sky. Things were as they were for a reason. Ahsdale would calm down by evening, and life would go on.

When he returned from the meeting, the cabin was dark and silent. "Ahsdale!" he called. No answer. The boy was probably sulking in his room.

Cernd tapped at the door. "Ahsdale. Come out, please." Again, no answer. "You must be starving." He opened the door. "I can find food as quickly as a hawk on the..."

The room was empty.

Athkatla was really not at all like he?d expected it. For one thing, it was filthy. Stinking rivers of waste ran across the cobblestones outside, and he had nearly vomited at the sight of young children splashing barefoot through the gutters. And then there were the crowds, the noise, the smell of wet wool and unwashed bodies, the?dear gods, was that a dead mouse in his beer?

Ahsdale set the tankard down and slid it to the other side of the table. It was just as well, he didn?t really like beer anyway. It just seemed like something he should order. He would have gone to a better place, but the Crooked Crane was the only one he could afford.

Perhaps this had all been a mistake. He had run off without thinking, letting anger carry him throughout the long tramp west. Father might be worried. Well, not worried enough to come after him, but?

?Ooh, you?re a young one. I like ?em young. So?energetic. You lookin? for a little company??

Ahsdale turned and found his nose in someone?s cleavage. He leaned back, blushing furiously. ?Uh, no, not me??

?Oh.? The woman smiled down at him, tossing her curly dark ringlets over a flawless shoulder. ?Well, you?re about to get some company whether you like it or not. See that fellow at the bar??

He tore his gaze from her abundant charms and glanced at the bar. Sure enough, a man lounged there, chatting with the bartender. His left arm was covered by an intricate tattoo, with runes picked out in blue and green and red. The man hefted his tankard, and the runes twisted and bent over the rippling muscles beneath.

?He wants to have a little chat with you.?

?With me?? The man turned, and Ahsdale hastily looked elsewhere. ?About what??

She shrugged. ?Money, I imagine.?

?But I don?t have any money!?

?Ah, but he doesn?t know that. He will want to look, and I don?t think you?ll enjoy the process.? She slid closer, wrapping a long white arm around him. ?Tell you what,? she whispered. ?Come upstairs with me, and I?ll?help you out.?

?But I?m not really interested in?I mean I am, but not like this?I mean??

Warm breath tickled his ear. ?Not for that, though the thought is much appreciated. There?s a secret stair from my room. You could be out of this dump in a moment.?

Confused and half-mesmerized, Ahsdale let her pull him from his chair. ?Why are you doing this??

?Cause I like you, silly boy. Hush now and come with me.?


***

Ten minutes later, she undulated down the stairs. The man at the bar took immediate notice. ?Hey, Alma, everything go as planned??

?Sure did, Gorm. He should be halfway to the Government District by now.? She pouted prettily, running a smooth fingertip along the scars that crisscrossed Gorm?s face. ?Buy a lady a drink, would you??

A glass of wine slid her way, coming to a halt in the curve of her hand. A few drops splashed over the edge and onto her skin. Alma licked them off with exaggerated delicacy, gazing at Gorm beneath her lashes. He swallowed hard and turned his attention to the bar.

?What do you think the Master wants with him, anyway??

?Really, Gorm, I don?t see how that?s any of your business. You know how the Master feels about questions.?

?I didn?t mean??

?Drink your beer. Good things come to those who keep their mouths shut.?


***

He smiled at the young man who stood, frozen, in the doorway of his office. ?So. You must be Ahsdale.?

Ahsdale blinked. ?How do you know my name??

Oh, it had burned in his mind for fifteen years. The indignity of hearing that?that pitiful excuse for a man exulting over his son, giving him such a sappy name. Ahsdale. It sounded like a breed of horse. ?I was an old friend of your mother?s, young man. A very good friend. You resemble Galia in many ways.? All except for the eyes. Those are his wretched father?s.

The faint traces of suspicion fled those grey eyes. ?Wow! You knew Mother? That?s great! Could you tell me about her? I mean, if you have time and all??

Ah, how trusting he was. ?Perhaps later. Won?t you come in??

Ahsdale flushed and quickly stepped inside, shutting the heavy wooden door behind him. He came forward eagerly enough, stumbling slightly on the soft pile of the carpet, and flung himself in the offered chair.

"Tell me, Ahsdale, what are you doing so far from home??

He examined his worn boots, running his fingers through his shaggy brown hair. ?I?er?had an argument with my father. So I left.?

?Interesting. Won?t Cernd come looking for you??

Ahsdale?s jaw tightened. ?Father has better things to do with his time.?

?Ah.? Excellent. The old bastard has done my work for me. ?You must be tired from your journey, so I shall come straight to the point. I need a trustworthy sort to act as a courier. I was planning to hire one of the adventuring types in the Copper Coronet, but since you?re here, it might as well be you. Twenty gold a week plus expenses, and we?ll outfit and train you. What do you say??

Ahsdale smiled. ?You?ve got yourself a courier.?

?Wonderful. I can tell that you will fit right in.? He glanced at the magical timepiece on his desk. ?I?m afraid that I have a business appointment in ten minutes, so if you?ll excuse me??

?Yes, sir.?

?Don?t call me that, it makes me sound old! You may address me as Lord Deril. Now run along, and we?ll chat later.?

?Yes, s?Lord Deril.? Ahsdale bowed confusedly before turning and leaving the room.

Deril smiled, stretching in feline contentment. Brilliant. Simply brilliant. He would have to think of a special reward for Alma for being so quick to spot the boy. It would be such fun educating Ahsdale. He would certainly be more amusing than his mother.

A voice drifted up from the street. ?Excuse me! Yes, you, er?all right, have a good day. You! Have you seen my son?

He glanced out of the window and chuckled. Speak of the devil. That damned druid was parading down the street, snatching at the sleeves of passersby. To Deril?s delight, most of the crowd ignored him, save one or two sickly-sweet souls.

?Tall lad, brown hair, grey eyes, answers to Ahsdale? No? Thank you for your?excuse me! Excuse me!?

If he weren?t such a dignified man, he would have clapped his hands and jumped up and down in glee. Oh, this was rich. He had snatched the kid right out from under his father?s nose.

?Forgive me, my lord.?

Deril reluctantly turned from the commotion outside his window. ?Yes, John, what is it??

The servant bowed. ?Was there anything in particular you would like for tea??

?Yes. Bring me some biscuits, the lemony sort. And see that the plate is full this time. I would not like to behead another chef just yet. Good servants are so hard to find, yes??

?Yes, my lord.? John bowed himself out.

Cernd raked a trembling hand through his hair. ?I don?t understand where he?s gone, Soris! Like the steadfast wolf, I traced him to Athkatla, but it is as if the city swallowed him whole! No one has seen any sign of him in two weeks!? He continued to pace, back and forth, across the Grand Druid?s floor.

?Did you try to get in touch with Galia?s family? Perhaps the boy went to them.?

?Galia had no living relatives in Athkatla. There are a number of cousins, but they live in Cormyr. And, although the boy has the energy of a dozen chattering squirrels, I doubt that he got that far.? He picked up a large fern frond and began methodically tearing it into shreds. ?I even sought out Igarol and Fennecia. It was difficult, but I did it. And what did they do?? Cernd savagely ripped at the fern shreds. ?Fennecia told me that I was a horrible father and Igarol LAUGHED and said it was exactly what I deserved. I ask you, Soris, is this what I deserve for rescuing the boy and raising him and putting food on the table and??

?Calm yourself, my friend.?

?I AM CALM! I AM PERFECTLY CALM!?

Soris rolled his eyes and lowered himself onto a stool by the fire. He watched the flames dance as Cernd ranted and raved, tuning his friend?s voice down to a peaceful hum. He supposed he was partially responsible for Ahsdale?s disappearance. After all, he hadn?t done a very good job of talking Cernd out of travelling constantly. It had always seemed perfectly plausible to send Cernd to take care of tasks. The man was so dependable, and while his bland features and quiet personality put off some of the younger druids, that very quality made him a wonderful informant. Oh, yes, and the shapeshifting. Shapeshifting was good, for both inconspicuous listening and returning in one piece.

Perhaps he should have made a greater effort to keep Cernd at home when he first noticed how Ahsdale felt, but he had chalked it up to adolescent dramatics. Who knew the boy was actually serious enough to act, and then succeed? These kids today?

Soris raised his head. Silence, except for the faint sound of panting. Cernd must have run out of steam. Time to step in before he finds his second wind. Without turning around, Soris said, ?It is a perfectly reasonable assumption for these people to make. After all, the last time they saw you, you had no idea that your wife had died and that you were a father.? Now he turned slightly, the stool creaking as he shifted his weight. ?Unless you have been in touch since then, which I highly doubt, they would know nothing about your relationship with your son.? Or lack thereof?

Cernd threw the shredded fern into the fire and stalked to the opposite side of the room. He sagged, leaning heavily on the large rough table. Soris gazed sadly at his back. Even if these people had seen Ahsdale in your care, their opinions would have remained the same. Some people are just not meant to be close with their families, and you, my friend, are one of them.

?Damn,? Cernd muttered. ?What am I going to do??

?Keep your eyes and ears open. Continue with your work. Your son will return, if Nature wills it.?

?And if he does not return??

?Then you will have to live with it.?

Ahsdale couldn?t resist putting a little swagger in his step as he entered the Five Flagons. Three years under Gorm?s tutelage had filled him out considerably, and now when he visited a bar, he received excellent service. Today was no different. Before he could say a word, he was in a comfortably overstuffed chair, tankard of dark ale in one hand, enjoying the sight of Marilee?s delectable bottom swaying across the room to another customer. He sighed and took a long pull at his drink. This was the life.

Sometimes he wondered how things would be if he had never left the forest. No doubt he would still be listening to old fogies go on about herbs and waiting for a father that never came home. And even when Father did come home, he wasn?t really there. His body was in the room, but his mind was always elsewhere. With Nature. Or the Balance. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

No, it was good that he had left. The streets of Athkatla were far more interesting than the forests, and filled with opportunity for those who knew where to look. Lord Deril had been teaching him about them, between business meetings. He had no idea why this great and well-respected man had taken such an interest in his well-being, but he was grateful for it. Ahsdale raised his tankard in an unconscious toast, smiling at Deril?s gold signet ring on his right index finger. If it hadn?t been for this little beauty, I could have died on the way back from Beregost. Lousy bandits. But I took care of them quickly enough. Chain lightning works wonders on a group?s morale. I wonder where he got the ring?

Ah, the tankard was almost empty. He tilted his head back, savoring the remaining drops. It was funny what three years in the company of a very hard-core drinker could do to your opinion of beer. Why, he could remember a time when he couldn?t even stand the smell of the stuff. Like stale vomit, he had told Gorm. Now he rather enjoyed it, provided that it was the finest Theskan dark served at the right temperature with the proper amount of head?

?Ahsdale. How good of you to start without me.?

He jumped, slopping a bit of ale onto the floor. Alma stood in front of him, eyebrows arched as high as they would go. ?Er?sorry?didn?t know how late you were planning to be.?

She sniffed and tossed her hair fetchingly. ?I am never late. You were just early.?

He stifled a sigh. Most days, there was no winning with Alma. ?My mistake.? He ordered a glass of fine red wine for the lady, and offered his chair.

Alma accepted it, sinking down into the cushions. ?How kind,? she said, in what he might have taken for a grateful tone had he not known her so well. ?No, don?t sit. You won?t be here long.?

Damn. I?d hoped there would be time for one more drink. ?Why? Something else needs delivering??

?You could say that.? She snatched her drink from Marilee and swallowed it in one long gulp. ?He wants you to deliver your yummy little self to his office. Now.?

?I hope I didn?t do something wrong??

?Don?t fish for answers with me, honey. You won?t get them.?

?But I??

?I can?t sit around all day and answer your questions. Places to go, people to kill, you know how it is.? She waved her delicate hand in a shooing motion. ?Get going. And buy me another glass before you go.?

Deril beamed as Ahsdale entered the room. ?Ah, there you are, my boy,? he said, brushing crumbs from his lap. ?Sit down and have something to eat.?

?Yes, Lord Deril.? He sat down gingerly on the stiff-backed wooden chair and accepted a biscuit from the flowery porcelain plate that Deril held out. He poked at the hard white icing, and then shrugged and took a bite. ?Thku,? he said.

?What have I told you about eating with your mouth full??

Ahsdale swallowed. ?Sorry, Lord Deril. I meant thank you.?

?Better. How do you take your tea??

He clamped down on his impatience. Lord Deril insisted on doing this with everyone, even those that he planned to kill. Keeping up appearances, he calls it. ?With lemon. Thank you.?

Deril poured tea into two gold-rimmed china teacups. He fussily topped one with a slice of lemon and handed it to Ahsdale. ?Enjoy,? he said, and picked up his own cup. ?Did Cernd ever tell you what your mother looked like??

?Er?no, Lord Deril.?

?How very odd. It sounds like something a caring father should do...but I digress.? Deril?s flinty eyes almost softened as he said, ?She was a lovely woman, Ahsdale. She had green eyes and a merry smile, and her figure could make any man sit up and take notice. I still don?t understand why your father abandoned her, especially with you on the way.?

Ahsdale nearly fell out of his chair. ?What?? Father never told me that!

?Yes,? Deril said sadly. ?That was how I met Galia. I found her weeping on my doorstep about your father running off to ?serve Nature? or some such nonsense. I rescued her, and we fell in love.?

?You?and Mother?? Does that mean he?s my? To his surprise, Ahsdale found that his hands were actually shaking. He put his cup down before he could spill tea all over his pants.

?And then you were born and?well?I have never seen a mother so devoted to her child. I had a miniature commissioned of you and Galia when you were four months old. Would you care to see it?? Without waiting for a response, he whipped a small wooden frame from his right desk drawer and presented it to Ahsdale.

Ahsdale held it with trembling hands. A young woman smiled out at him from the frame, holding a chubby, giggling child. I do look like her. We have the same hair, the same nose, the same smile. I have Father?s eyes, but the rest is hers. He stared into her eyes, trying to glean as much information from the picture as possible. Is she really happy? She?s smiling, but there?s a shadow behind those eyes. ?Why does she have a blue spot on her cheek??

?What?? Deril peered over his shoulder. ?There is no blue spot, young man.?

?Sure there is.? He pointed, lightly brushing the picture?s ridged surface. ?Right there. It almost looks like a bruise covered with cosmet??

"What?" Deril snatched it away and had a look. ?Hmmm?perhaps. She could be a trifle clumsy at times, bumping into bedposts and doors. It must have been lack of sleep from those midnight feedings.? He chuckled, though it seemed a bit forced, and tucked the picture back into the desk.

?I don?t remember her,? said Ahsdale.

?You wouldn?t. She died not long after that portrait was painted.?

?What happened??

?She?er?met with a little accident. One of the servants neglected to firmly fasten the rug at the top of the stairs, and she went downstairs for some trifle and she?er?fell and broke her neck.?

?Oh.? He looked away, letting his eyes roam around the room. It shouldn?t bother me. I never knew her, I don?t even have one memory of her. Nevertheless, there was a lump in his throat that he couldn?t seem to swallow.

?There, there.? Deril patted his shoulder. ?She didn?t suffer. Death was instantaneous, or so the priest told me. And I thoroughly punished that dim-witted servant. Oh, how he danced that day under the bite of Gorm?s lash! Sometimes, at night, I can still hear his screams?? He gave an evil little chuckle before pulling his attention back to the present. ?Yes, well, I still had you. Things would have been just fine, if it hadn?t been for your father. Suddenly HE decided to show up with a ragged band of miscreants, yelling and screaming about how you were his son and I should hand you over immediately.?

Ahsdale couldn?t believe his ears. ?My father? Yelling and screaming??

?Oh, yes. Something about cubs needing to be raised in a proper forest environment.?

Oh. Well, that part sounds like him. ?Did?did he ask about Mother??

Deril considered, tapping a fingernail against his chin. ?You know?I don?t think he did. But then, he never seemed particularly concerned with Galia. Or you. After all, he never bothered to check on her when she was pregnant, and he didn?t even know your name. I told him this, but it just made him angrier. Finally, his gang threatened to kill me if I didn?t hand you over. I had no choice. More tea??

Ahsdale absently waved the teapot away, not sure what to think. Father had always been unwilling to discuss Mother or her death. The most Father had ever said on this topic was that he and Galia had agreed to go their separate ways because of irreconcilable differences, and that Ahsdale had been rescued from some horrible fate. He snuck a glance at the richly furnished room. Doesn't look that horrible to me.

Deril?s attentiveness now made a lot more sense, if he and Mother had been lovers. And it didn't surprise Ahsdale one bit that Mother had been abandoned. He smiled wryly to himself. After all, hadn?t he spent the better part of his childhood waiting for his father to come home? Mother had looked happy in that portrait. He couldn?t mistake that smile on her face. But her death?his mind shied away from that topic, like a pebble skipping over the surface of a deep, dark pool. It was a horrible accident. An accident, and that?s all.

He suddenly realized that Deril was watching him closely. ?I hope you don?t mind my telling you this, Ahsdale. I felt it was your right to know.?

?No, I don't mind at all,? said Ahsdale firmly. ?You?ve always kept your word, Lord Deril, which is more than Father ever did.? He let a wistful smile form on his lips. ?I almost wish things had been different...that you had been my father instead of...him.?

Something flickered in Deril?s eyes. ?That means more to me than you can imagine. Much more.?

They stared at each other for a few heartbeats longer before Ahsdale looked away. ?Was that all you wanted, Lord Deril?? He tried not to sound too eager, even though all he wanted to do was find a secluded place to think for a few hours.

Deril flashed him a quick, sharp smile. ?Not quite, Ahsdale. But don?t worry. You?ll have plenty of time to think on this trip. I?d like you to saddle up and pay a little visit to my mines near Nashkel. There's something I need you to secure from the storage shed. Gorm and I will be right behind you, as I am eager to set eyes upon my little prize.?

?Little prize?? Ahsdale blurted out. He silently cursed his slip. Special relationship or not, Lord Deril always found a creative punishment for a loose tongue.

But today, Deril seemed not to care. ?Oh, yes. I think you?ll find it most intriguing...?

?They?ve found it?? Soris levelled a sharp glance at the slight young woman before him. ?Are you certain, Carina??

?Quite.? She grimaced, pulling her right leg up behind her and stretching in what seemed like a very painful position to Cernd. ?I spent two months sitting above that damned camp, listening to every scrap of inane chatter. Do you know what it feels like to be an owl for two months??

?Er?Carina??

?Two?whole?MONTHS!!! I still have this unholy urge for rodents??

?One might think you found the form of one of Nature?s noblest creatures distasteful,? said Foryn, twinkling his eyes at the other two men.

?I didn?t mind the flying,? said Carina thoughtfully. ?Wings are very impressive. But mouse bones hurt coming back up.?

Soris cleared his throat. ?Where are they keeping it??

?In a box in the storage shed. The workers won?t touch it,? she added, answering Foryn?s unspoken question. ?Too scared of the one behind all this.?

?I cannot say that I blame them,? said Foryn. He exchanged a look of extreme trepidation with Carina.

?Indeed,? said Soris. ?He may seem noble and cultured on the surface, but Deril Indaren is like a handsome oak with blight at the heart.?

Deril! Cernd?s hands clenched and he dropped his gaze, concentrating on his worn boots.

?Someone must go to the camp and get it,? said Soris, ?or better yet, destroy it. Such knowledge is dangerous to us all.?

?It won?t be me,? said Carina. ?I have to find some normal food to eat for a while. Stuff that doesn?t wriggle or squeak.?

?I am afraid that I am no longer useful in the field,? said Foryn mournfully. ?Such is the price of age.?

Cernd smiled, hoping that he was managing to hide his impatience under a veil of serenity. And that settles that. Soris will not go unless it is absolutely necessary. Someone must be the wolf to guard our lair. So that leaves...me.

Soris smiled apologetically. ?Cernd, I know that you have just returned from Trademeet and you must be exhausted, but this is an urgent matter. Will you???

He nodded. ?If I am needed, then I will go.?

?I?m sorry,? said Carina. She shot him a winsome look from her wide hazel eyes. ?I really would do it if it weren?t for the food??

?I understand.?

?And we couldn?t send Anelise. She has a young one depending on her, and children should never be left alone for long. You know how it?er?? She bit her lip, wincing. ?I?m sorry, Cernd. I didn?t mean that like it sounded.?

Cernd grit his teeth and shoved away her well-meaning concern. ?It is quite all right,? he lied. ?I take no offense. I will descend upon the camp like the night, and end this threat. You will have nothing to worry about.? He nodded to everyone, turned, and left.

As he walked, he tallied his mental list of possessions. Staff, check. Cloak, check. Boots, check. Herbs, check. Little pouch of dried fruit and nuts, check. He looked up and bit off an annoyed exclamation as he noticed he was going the wrong way. Why am I going back to the cabin? I have everything I need?but I suppose old habits die hard.

He changed direction, plunging deeper into the woods. Soon his thoughts slid into the wary detachment of the solo traveller, divorced from the demands of the body, but ready to come back in an instant should danger threaten.

Once, he had desired nothing more than to be free, to be able to return to his wilderness, just like this. He had fought the urge as long as he could, trying to remember that he had left the forests out of love. It was difficult to keep his head down as he went about his daily chores, trying not to see the little miracles of bud and leaf unfurling around him, but he managed it for nearly five years.

When Galia had finally suggested that he might be better off following his dream, he had leapt at the opportunity. Now he wondered if she had really meant it. Perhaps it had been one of those tests that women were so fond of, and she had been waiting for him to say, ?No, darling, I love you more than Nature. I?ll stay here with you.? Not that it mattered anymore. Galia was dead and gone, leaving Ahsdale to his care. And now, due to youthful petulance and ingratitude, he had nothing left but freedom and duty.

And that is just what I wanted, he told himself. I should be happy. Inwardly, a seed of doubt sank its roots into his heart. Freedom wasn?t exactly how he had thought it would be. It was bright, intoxicating?and bitter.


***


It was close to midnight, and the miners slept peacefully, worn out by the day?s labors. Two sentries remained on duty, but they soon grew bored with their task and turned to their cards and a handy flask of sour red wine. After four rounds of poker, the night took a violent turn when one of the men accidentally revealed the five aces up his sleeve. There was a brief scuffle, and the card game ended forever.

Meanwhile, Cernd crept closer to the camp. He heard a sharp crackling sound and hastily ducked behind a large rock. After counting very slowly to ten, he carefully peered around the edge and saw a campfire. The dancing flames cast an eerie glow over the two bodies slumped beside it. Sleeping on the job, most likely. Cernd let out the breath he?d been holding and continued on.

After a couple of wrong turns, he finally located the storage shed Carina had described. He raised himself onto tiptoes and peered through the dusty window in the back wall. The shed was dark. He sank back down into a crouch and pressed an ear against the building. Hearing nothing, he decided it was safe to try the door.

The shed was filled with a veritable mountain of dusty wooden crates, but Cernd quickly found his quarry. For one thing, the jewel-studded cedar chest was instantly recognizable as containing something out of the ordinary. For another, it had a huge hastily-scrawled sign nailed to the crate above it.

Cernd?s lips twitched with silent amusement as he read the sign. ?TUCH THIS AND DYE!!!? A fate worse than death, I am sure. But just in case? He took down the sign and rolled it into a tube before prodding the box with it. Nothing happened. He prodded it again, this time paying special attention to the clasps. Again, the box remained inert. Finally, he reached out, flipped the clasps, and flung the box open. After waiting for a few minutes to be sure that he hadn?t tripped any nasty traps, Cernd peered inside.

A book lay within, nestled in a bed of rosy Calishite silk. The book seemed harmless enough in its plain leather binding, but that just made it even more sinister in his eyes, like a warm, sunny hollow that concealed a nest of rattlesnakes. Gingerly, he picked it up and opened it. His eyes widened as he scanned the formulae and diagrams within. Soris had been correct. The knowledge contained in these worn pages was dangerous, and would do much to tip the Balance, one way or another. He could not hide it, for it would only be found again. No, it had to be destroyed.

Cernd closed the book, considering his options. He could rip the parchment to shreds, but there would be the tiny problem of waste disposal. It would take time to piece the book back together, but it was still possible. A fire would do the trick. He scratched his chin thoughtfully. Perhaps if I tear up the pages and then burn them in the campfire outside?yes, that sounds sufficient.

Someone shouted outside. Hugging the book to his chest, Cernd slid up beside the window and carefully peeked out. A man stood over the bodies of the two guards, gesturing frantically. From the lights now flickering in the cabins, it seemed that the camp was waking up. Slipping hastily out of sight, he cast a hunted glance at the now useless door. Even the stealthy cat would be hard pressed to escape unnoticed, so how can I hope to do it?

In the end, he chose a path that the stealthy cat would have likely disdained. Muffling the panes of glass with his cloak, Cernd broke the back window. After a few minutes of struggle, he was outside and running, the book tucked under one bleeding arm, leaving the shouts and confusion far behind.

Ahsdale fastened his cloak snugly around him as he trotted along on his piebald mare. The wind picked up, slapping his face with frosty hands. It had been surprisingly warm for Marpenoth, and he had almost worn a lighter set of clothing. Now he was glad that he had reconsidered.

He rode on through the falling leaves, feeling quite pleased with himself. The trip had been uneventful, and he was making better time than he had hoped. At this rate, he would be at the camp in less than an hour, so he could afford to take it easy for a while. He sighed contentedly, one hand creeping up to play with the mithril chain glinting around his neck. He had never owned anything so fine. He should probably stop taking his attention off the road, but it seemed deserted enough.

His thoughts drifted back to Athkatla, and Deril?s surprising words at their parting. Deril had carefully hung the chain around his neck with all the airs of a king bestowing a reward to a favored vassal, and then said, ?I imagine we will be spending much more time together once we return from the mines. You?ll need to learn the ropes of the family business, eh, son??

Ahsdale smiled to himself. Even now, two days later, he still felt a warm glow of acceptance at the memory. Who needs an old absentee father? Lord Deril is wealthy and powerful and respected?and more importantly, he?s interested in me.

He scratched absently at his right wrist, where the wool rested against his bare skin. His new crimson cloak was a bit itchy, but Alma had assured him that he looked handsome and dashing in it, and after that it would have seemed rude not to wear it. Besides, it was far more impressive than the old blue thing that Father had given him. He wasn?t attached to that cloak at all, no sir. It had gone straight into the fire, and he had watched it burn with no expression on his face. Father would have thrown a fit at the waste?

Cernd, he reminded himself. Not Father anymore. He doesn?t deserve the title. He?s just Cernd.

His stomach growled. Ahsdale felt a moment?s annoyance before realizing that this would actually be a good time for a rest. He tugged at the reins until the horse stopped and looked inquiringly back at him, and then he stood up in the stirrups, stretching out his cramped thighs. He then swung off the horse, kicking up a small puff of road-dust, and rummaged in his saddlebag for an apple.

As he did so, a cloaked figure stepped out onto the road, leaning slightly on a slender wooden staff. Perhaps it?s a beggar, Ahsdale thought, eyeing him up and down. An old one, too, with those wisps of grey hair peeking out from under the hood. His shabby green cloak was torn and there was a rough bandage around his arm. His other arm was hidden beneath the hood, but Ahsdale felt that there was nothing dangerous concealed there. After all, beggars didn?t have weapons. Everyone knew that. Nevertheless, he rested a hand on his swordhilt.

The figure froze, and then tilted his head inquisitively. In a pleasant and unremarkable tenor voice, he said, ?Ahsdale??

?Yes?? said Ahsdale, blinking in astonishment. ?Do I know you??

The man put back his hood, and grey eyes met grey. Ahsdale felt the blood drain from his face as he whispered, ?Cernd??

He could not speak for what seemed like too long a time. Could that handsome young man really be my son? I scarcely recognize him in those fancy clothes. A sword? Where did he get that? And where the hell has he been?

Ahsdale recovered first. ?Oh, it?s you,? he said in the coldest voice Cernd had ever heard. ?What are you doing here??

Cernd felt like he had been slapped in the face, but he tried to carry on. ?I am doing well, thank you,? he said evenly. ?It is good to see you too. How have you been? You wear fine feathers for a lad your age.?

?Oh, I?ve been great.? Ahsdale examined his nails. ?Just grand, really. In case you were wondering, I lost no sleep wondering why you couldn?t be bothered to find me all these years. I assumed you were doing something important?like planting oaks or saving the wyverns.?

?But?but, Ahsdale! I did try to find you! I searched the fields, the woods...I traipsed all over Trademeet and Athkatla, but could find no trace of you.?

?A likely story,? Ahsdale sneered.

?But I?? Cernd swallowed his disappointment. Things were definitely not turning out the way he had planned. ?Look, must we wrangle in the middle of the road like a pair of ill-bred cats??

?Did you have a more comfortable place in mind??

?There?s a stream to the east, not far from here.? Cernd stayed quiet for a few heartbeats, but was unable to resist adding, ?Your mount looks to be in need of refreshment. Were you not instructed upon proper care for your mounts? They are your responsibility, and not to be mistreat??

?Mind your own damn business! I'm not a little boy anymore, and I can take care of my own horse, thank you very much!? Ahsdale angrily grabbed the reins and yanked the horse along in the indicated direction. After a shocked pause, Cernd followed.

They walked in silence among the drifting leaves. Crimson and gold crunched softly under their feet, the dry, dusty scent releasing waves of nostalgia. Autumn had always been their favorite time, the last burst of life before winter. He studied his lost son as they went. A touch of gentle humor still remained in his eyes, but it was almost buried under the weight of stubborn pride, anger, hurt, and loneliness. The son he had known was inside somewhere, the boy who had wanted to know everything about everything, who had heedlessly jumped into leaf piles with such gusto and ran shrieking through the woods, causing every bird within miles to take wing. There was so much to say, so many ghosts to lay to rest, but the words stuck fast in his throat like a prickly burr.

They reached the stream, rippling silver in the moonlight. Ahsdale dropped the reins, and his mount lowered her head and drank. ?What are you doing here, Cernd??

Cernd seized the question gratefully and began to rattle off stories of his recent travels. He tried to say something casual yet profound that would make the boy realize how much he had been missed, but the right words refused to come. As time passed and Cernd kept babbling, Ahsdale?s neutral expression changed to a distant one, and then to one of annoyance. He sighed impatiently and looked away.

?And now,? Cernd said, trying to keep a touch of panic from his voice, ?Soris?you remember him, don?t you, Ahsdale? He?s grown even browner since you last saw him?Soris has sent me back to Nashkel to retrieve a book.?

Ahsdale had been glaring at his horse, but now he snapped back to attention. ?A book?? he asked unsteadily.

?Oh, yes.? Cernd held up the book he?d been clutching, wondering why Ahsdale had turned pale again. Perhaps he senses the evil within the pages. Yes, I am sure that is it. ?Like the coral snake, this book hides its fangs beneath a pleasant exterior. I am glad that you are here, Ahsdale.?

He smiled at Ahsdale, who avoided his eyes. ?Are you??

?Certainly. It will be easier to deliver the book to the Grove with two to guard it. And on horseback! We shall arrive at the Grove in record time, and then we can find some way to destroy this despicable tome.?

?I see,? said Ahsdale. ?Sounds like an interesting plan.?

?Well? Hop to it, boy! We need to get moving before someone finds my trail.?

?I thought druids didn?t leave trails. And I?m not going to help you.?

?Oh, come now, boy, put your peevishness behind you. We?re family after all??

?No. If I let you destroy that book, my lord would be most displeased. And I?d rather not have Lord Deril angry with me. It?s been known to be fatal.?

Cernd?s jaw dropped. ?How do you know that name?? he said in a hoarse whisper.

Ahsdale looked at him with a pitying sneer. ?Isn?t it obvious??

?How did he get his foul claws into you? I?ll rend him from limb to limb if he has threatened you??

?He didn?t have to threaten me. He kindly took me in and paid me every attention. And he told me the truth about you and Mother.?

?Truth? Anything that man told you is a lie! He is the lowest of the low, his heart like the frosts of deep winter. He murdered my Galia as casually as one kills a fly!?

?It was an accident. He loved Mother?he told me the whole story.?

?And you believed his shoddy tale? I thought you more astute than that.?

Ahsdale reddened and spat, ?Lord Deril cares whether I live or die, which is more than I can say for you! He?s done more for me than anyone! Just as a father should.?

?You will not compare me to?to him!? Cernd trembled, gathering the scattered shards of his composure. He would not let the boy see how that shaft rankled in his soul. He must remain calm and think of a way to bring the boy back to his senses. Surely reason would be as a refreshing draught to him. ?I see now,? he said slowly. ?Deril thinks to get at me through you. That explains his interest in you, of course. If you would only think a moment??

?Shut up!? Ahsdale glared, his hands clenching in spasms. ?You, you, you! It?s always about you, isn?t it! Of course Lord Deril would have no interest in the child of the woman he loved, because you?re more important! Next you?ll be telling me that this book is some?some kind of Balance-wrecker and not his sainted grandmother?s diary!?

?But it is a threat to the Balance!? Cernd opened the book and showed it to Ahsdale. ?See??

?GAH!? Ahsdale shouted. ?You ruin EVERYTHING!? He stood stock-still, his face nearly crimson. His breath came out in faint white puffs in the frosty air. Finally, he said in a strangled voice, ?Give me the book.?

?You are behaving very badly, Ahsdale. This is not the right way. Please, reconsider and come home.?

Ahsdale took a step forward. ?Give me the book. I said I would hand it to him, and I keep my promises. Unlike some people.?

Cernd turned and threw the book at the riverbank. It landed with a squelch in the mud. ?Deril will not have it, Ahsdale,? he declared, raising his staff. ?This I swear by the stars above.?

?We shall see?Cernd.? Ahsdale drew his blade and advanced, his cold eyes boring straight into Cernd?s own. Steel glittered dangerously in the moonlight. Seeing that his father only raised his staff in a defensive gesture, Ahsdale hesitated for a second, and then brought his blade down hard. Only a twist of the staff deflected the blow and spared Cernd?s life.

Right up until that moment, Cernd had not believed that Ahsdale would actually turn on him. Then again, he had never thought a lot of things would happen. He had never thought he would have a wife, or a son. His son was a threat to his life, and more importantly, to the Balance. Ahsdale had to be stopped. Suddenly, he hated Soris for sending him on this mission. He hated Nature for demanding such a price. But his choice had been made long ago. This was his duty.

Cernd dropped his staff, which sank into a cushion of autumn leaves. He closed his eyes, carefully gathering his disappointment and anger into a tight ball, and whispered a prayer to the Mother. For a moment, the world stood still as his need was weighed and measured. And then he felt the familiar hot rush of sensation as his call was answered. His body burned as silky grey fur sprouted and flesh shifted, and Cernd raised his head and howled. The ringing notes of pain and elation echoed in the night air, which was alive with scents he never would have noticed in his human form.

The pain had mostly gone now, and he bared his teeth down at Ahsdale. The boy had never seen him change before, and it clearly gave him pause. Good. Perhaps seeing him as a werewolf would knock this fighting nonsense from Ahsdale?s head. He hoped so. He didn?t know how much longer he could bear it. My own son, a tool of that grinning jackal. Most humans tended to find the form frightening. The horse certainly did. It reared and fled, screaming shrilly.

Ahsdale swallowed and took a shaky step backward, but his sword point did not waver. Cernd felt a touch of pride despite himself. My son may not have much sense, but he?s not a coward.

?You don?t scare me, Cernd,? said Ahsdale. ?I?ll still fight you, even if you are a flea-infested furball.? He swung his blade, tracing a thin line across Cernd?s furry chest. ?And not a very smart furball, either.? Ahsdale's face twisted into an eerie copy of his master?s. ?Poor Cernd, can?t even get out of the way??

Cernd growled and swatted Ahsdale?s blade aside, throwing his son completely off balance with the force of his blow. He lunged forward. His claws raked down Ahsdale?s hard leather breastplate, leaving twisted furrows behind. He struck another blow, and this time his nostrils filled with a hot coppery scent. Cernd's senses quivered. Delicious. His stomach growled, and he struck once more, releasing more of that delightful blood. Somewhere inside was a druid sternly warning him to control himself before he did something he would regret, but for once, Cernd didn?t care about caution or discipline. All he wanted to do was strike out against the hand Fate had dealt him.

Ahsdale screamed and swung again and again, opening angry gashes all over Cernd?s thighs and torso. But Cernd hardly noticed the pain, he was so intoxicated by blood and rage. The world dimmed and Ahsdale?s shouts receded into the pounding battle-drums of his heartbeat.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The wind rose, howling mournfully through the bare branches. Cernd blinked. His teeth rattled as he gulped the icy air, fur having given way to fragile skin. Taking a step, he nearly vomited as the forest swam in and out of focus. His body protested as he sank to his knees, every gash a voice in its chorus of pain. Then he saw Ahsdale.

His boy lay sprawled upon the blood-soaked leaves, still clutching his sword. His armor was in shreds, and his skin was bone-pale between the oozing wounds. Only the shallow rise and fall of his chest showed that he still clung to life. Cernd gathered him up in trembling arms. He tried to steady himself enough to call upon Nature, but his spirit was too weak. He did not even have the strength to bind his wounds or measure out his herbs. All he could do was wait and hope that Ahsdale would open his eyes. Then he could finally tell him everything, and they would know each other as they should. This time, things would turn out right.

But Ahsdale?s eyes remained closed. His pulse weakened, and he slipped away in the cold grey hour before dawn. Cernd brushed a strand of hair from Ahsdale?s still face, unaware that he was humming a lullaby under his breath. I had to do it, he thought bleakly. There was no other way, he would not listen, and he could not understand. He?s never understood. We shared the same blood, we were bound by it, but in the end, that?s all there was. Blood.

Cernd stared dully at the spreading crimson staining the leaves around them. He should do something, bury Ahsdale, heal himself, get up to bring that book back to the Grove?but it was all so difficult, and the ground was so comfortable. Perhaps he would feel better if he rested for just a moment. The sun would come up and the world would fit back together. He held Ahsdale close and let his eyes shut, for just a moment.

In his dream, he ran through the forest, the path twisting and turning so often that even he could scarcely tell if he was going the right way. He began to tire, gasping for breath, but he could not stop. He had to reach the end. Brambles tore at his legs, and a persistent stitch stabbed his ribs, but he persevered.

Before long, he reached a bright meadow. A woman stood in the sunlight, crowned with a ring of sweet honeysuckle. She smiled fondly at the young man who lounged in the lush grass, his head thrown back, his grey eyes bright with laughter. Galia?and Ahsdale.

Cernd wavered in the shadows at the edge, where the forest met the meadow. He wanted to go to them, but the strength ebbed from his limbs. ?I?m sorry,? he managed before the darkness swallowed him whole.


***

A day passed before Deril and Gorm came shuffling through the leaves in the last slanting rays of afternoon light. Gorm whistled tunelessly, to Deril?s quiet displeasure. The whistle died on his lips when they came around a tree and found the two bodies.

One body lay slumped over the other, who they knew well. Gorm knelt and pulled the first body up by its long silver hair. ?That ?im, Lord Deril??

?Yes. That?s Cernd.? Deril?s mouth worked, and he spat squarely on the dead druid?s cheek. ?Just as you deserve.?

Gorm let Cernd fall back, wiping his beefy hands on his trousers. ?Animals have been at ?em already,? he said with a shrug. ?Shame about that. Shame about the boy, too.?

Deril didn?t appear to hear him. He looked down at Ahsdale?s face, slack in death. For an instant the mask slipped and real regret showed in those hard, sardonic eyes. Then the sneer slid back so smoothly that it was hard to say it had ever left. ?The boy served his purpose well,? he said brusquely. ?And he even saved my book. So hard to find exciting bedtime reading material nowadays.? He marched over to the riverbank and wrested the book from the drying mud. ?We should be off now, Gorm.?

?Yes, Lord Deril. Er?should we bury them or something??

?No, let them be. It?s what he would have wanted. After all, dead bodies are good for the soil.?

They walked away and did not look back. The sun flashed defiantly as it sank below the trees, casting strange, long shadows over the two bodies in the leaves. They seemed to blur, leg melding into arm, blood mingling with blood, everything finally coming together on common ground.


The End!