Finally he removed the vessel from the fire and after a moment, while it yet simmered, he drank it all, his face screwing into a knot of disgust.
“Hoo. Brrr. Nasty,” he said, a shiver racking his spine. He took deep breaths and looked somewhat ill, and Liaze thought he would vomit. Yet he managed to keep the concoction down.
“Might I hae a second biscuit, please?” he said. “It’ll help settle ma stomach.” Liaze reached into the food sack and drew out another. This one he gobbled up as well. And when it was gone, he said, his voice softer, “All right, m’lady, ma hearin, it be comin back.”
Liaze looked from the empty pot to the little man. “Good, for I have much to tell you. But first, are you a healer?”
“Nae. J’st a bit o’ an herbalist.”
“What did you drink?”
“Oh, that? A mere somethin t’get rid o’ the ringin and bring back ma hearin. Now, what be it ye want t’tell me? Oh, and pardon ma manners, lady. Thank ye f’r savin ma sanity and gettin me out o’ that horrible place. I be Gwyd, Manor Brunie, at y’r service.”
“You are a Brownie? Oh, my. What with the tatters you wear looking much like grass and leaves, I thought you a Ghillie Dhu.”
“Ghillie Dhu? Ghillie Dhu?” Incensed, Gwyd leapt to his feet and in the firelight he drew himself up to his full three-foot height. “Can ye nae see ma clothes? Brun they be. See ma skin, ma hair, ma eyes: brun they be! Brun! I’ll hae ye ken I be a respectable Manor Brunie. Ghillie Dhu, pfaa!”
Liaze smiled and said, “I apologize, Gwyd, for thinking of you as something you are not. I am Liaze, Princess of the Autumnwood.”
“Princess? Oh, my.” Gwyd dropped to one knee and dipped his head. “I dinna mean t’rail at ye, m’lady, ye bein a princess no less, and what in Faery be ye doin out here, in the wilderness and all? Ah, but I suppose that’ll be one o’ the thin’s y’ll be tellin me. In the meanwhile, hae ye any more o’ them fair biscuits, now?”
Liaze laughed and handed Gwyd another helping of hardtack, and he plopped down once more.
“Tell me Gwyd, how long were you imprisoned?”
“Nigh a whole moon by ma count, though I might hae lost track down in that dungeon deep, what wi’ there bein no day and night t’tell by.”
“A moon? A moon in that cage?”
Gwyd nodded.
“What have you been living on?”
“Raw rats mostly, and drinkin seep water, though now and again I took great pleasure in a beetle or a crawlin worm. Spiders, now, they’re a bit bitter, but I ate them when I could.”
As revulsion swept over Liaze’s face, she realized whence came the small bones and bits of fur she had seen in the cage. And she shuddered at the thought of eating raw rats and spiders and worms and beetles.
Gwyd looked at her contorted visage and smiled and said, “The stayin alive was the easy part. ’Twas the noise that nearly drove me mad. And the terrible thin’ was, it was ma verra own howls taken up by that cursed place. Why the rats nae did flee fra the howlin, I’ll ne’er ken, but they nae left the castle at all.” He took another slug of wine, emptying the bottle, then cocked his head and looked at her. “And speakin o’ the howlin, j’st how did ye manage t’quieten it down?”
“I soothed as I would a babe,” said Liaze, “and that’s part of what I want to talk to you about.”
“Soothed as ye would a babe? Now that be somethin that ne’er would o’ entered ma own mind.” Gwyd got up and stepped to the second bottle of wine. He broke off the neck against the same rock and then returned to the fire. Liaze shook her head when he offered her the first drink. Yet standing, Gwyd took a swift gulp and said, “Princess, before you begin on y’r story, would ye wait until I take me a bath? I smell something terrible t’ma own sel’, and so it must be e’en worse f’r ye. And hae ye got something t’wrap masel’ in, f’r ma clothes need washin too?”
Liaze smiled and fetched a cloth and pointed off toward the stream that flowed downslope and toward the vale.
By the time Gwyd returned, Liaze had brewed a pot of tea and offered him some, but the Brownie stuck to the wine.
Gwyd hung his wet garments on a nearby limb, and then settled down by the fire and looked at Liaze. “Weel then, m’lady, whater’er it be ye would tell me, say on.”
Liaze nodded and said, “It concerns the quest I’m on, and it all started at a pool in a willow grove on my estate. Eve had fallen and I had just taken a swim when I heard a horn sounding an alert. Moments later a wounded chevalier on yon black horse you see agraze came crashing through the willow branches and…”
“… And so you see, Gwyd, that’s why I think you are the so-called howling one of the rede.”
The waning gibbous moon had risen and the second bottle of wine was empty by the time Liaze finished her tale.
“Tell me this rede again, m’lady,” said Gwyd, and he braced himself as if for an ordeal, for when she had first spoken Lady Wyrd’s words he had cried out in alarm. She had asked him why, but he had put her off until the telling was done.
Liaze nodded and in a somber voice said:
In the long search for your lost true love
You surely must ride with Fear,
With Dread, with Death, with many Torn Souls,
Yet ride with no one from here.
For should you take a few with you,
Most Fear would likely slay.
Instead ride with the howling one
To aid you on the way.
He you will find along your quest.
He is the one who loudly cried.
He will help you defeat dread Fear,
But will not face Fear at your side.
You must soothe as you would a babe,
And speak not a loud word;
Silence is golden in some high halls;
Tread softly to not be heard.
In the dark of the moon but two moons from now
A scheme will be complete,
For on a black mountain an ever-slowing heart
Will surely cease to beat.
As Liaze fell silent, “Weel then,” said Gwyd, “I ken nothin about a black mountain, but I do agree I be the howlin one, and since ye set me free, and because Lady Skuld said so, it seems I hae nae choice but t’accompany ye. Yet as the rede says, I’ll not face Fear at y’r side, f’r he be a dreadful thin’, he be.”
“A dreadful thing? Know you what that part means, Gwyd?”
“Aye, I do.” Gwyd looked about for more wine, yet only broken-necked bottles did he find. One after another he turned up both and caught a drop from each and then muttered, “I should hae brought more out wi’ me.”
“Gwyd, I ask: what does it mean I must ride with Fear?”
The Brownie sighed. “Let me tell ye ma own tale, startin wi’ the most recent first. Then I’ll get t’Lord Fear hisself.”
“I was the Manor Brunie at Laird Duncan’s mansion. But then Redcap Goblins and Trolls came and occupied the place, and ma laird and lady barely escaped alive. I stayed behind, tryin t’think o’ a way t’oust the greedy poltroons.
“I slipped about unseen by the brutes-we Brunies can be verra sneaky-and I list t’their Goblin talk. It seems they were fleein a mighty warrior when they came upon ma laird’s manor, and they thought it e’en better than the castle they fled when the mighty warrior got loose. Y’see, it seems this warrior had been gi’en t’them as their pris’ner, and he had slain two o’ their Redcaps as he broke free. Then, as he was gettin away, he killed two o’ their Trolls as he escaped on a raft, accompanied by a Sprite and a wee little bee. They recked he would nae doubt return wi a warband, and so they fled.”
Liaze laughed and said, “Oh, Gwyd, ’tis my brother Borel whom they fear. And, indeed, he did slay Goblins and Trolls as he escaped their prison. They were Hradian’s lackeys or minions or allies-I know not which.”
Gwyd frowned. “Hradian?”
“A witch. One of Orbane’s acolytes.”
Gwyd made a warding sign at the mention of Orbane, but he motioned Liaze to go on. Liaze nodded and said, “Hradian: she is the one responsible for Borel being imprisoned in the first place. She cast a great spell that bore him away, and when he awoke, in the Troll prison he was, shackled to a wall. But as you know, he escaped, and slew some of his jailors in doing so.”