Brotherhood Saga 03: Death (91 page)

“Where did you meet?” Karma asked.

“At the edge of the Abroen,” Odin said, turning his eyes back up to Virgin. “We didn
’t exactly meet on the best of terms though.”

“I tried to rob him,” Virgin smiled.

“Rob him?” Karma asked. “Why?”

“Because that
’s what I do. I’m a thief. Though I am happy to say, Mr. Karussa, that your son has… enlightened me in that regard.”

“What kept you from robbing Odin then?”

“He…
charmed
me,” Virgin smiled.

Odin had to resist elbowing his companion
’s side in response.

“I see,” Ectris said, though from the way his eyes narrowed, Odin couldn
’t help but wonder if his father knew the true story. Shortly thereafter, he opened his eyes to their normal state and turned his attention back on Odin. “I assume you won’t be staying much longer then. You must be on your way to the capital.”

“I should be back as soon as possible,” Odin agreed, “but I can stay. It
’s no problem.”

“It
’s not as though they know we’re coming back anyway,” Virgin offered.

Nodding, Ectris reached forward, took one of the mugs from the platter, then sipped the tea Karma had prepared for the four of them whilst they talked. “I
’m sorry about Miko,” he finally said. “I can see why you were devastated.”

“He saved me,” Odin sighed. “He was one of the best friends I ever had.”

Once more, Virgin tightened his hold on Odin’s fingers.

Don
’t cry,
he thought.

Instead, he reached up, fingered the ducts of his eyes, then smiled despite the emotions
plaguing him.

“I should go,” Karma said, standing.

“Please stay,” Odin said, reaching across the table to take her hand before she could walk away. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I have errands to attend to, my friend. Besides—this time is for the three of you, not for myself.”

“Can I see you before I leave?”

“You know
where I live. You can say goodbye when you’re ready.”

Shortly
thereafter, Karma turned, made her way to the door, then unlocked the bolt and chain before stepping out into the cold weather.

“She
’s been… distant… the past few months,” Ectris said, stirring the contents of his mug with the spoon that Karma had assembled within the mugs.

“How do you mean?” Odin frowned.

“I believe she is on the verge of death, if you want the truth.”

“No. She can
’t be.”

“She bears sign of illness, Odin. Her hands are gnarled, her eyes are dark. Hell—she can barely maintain herself nowadays without the use of her cane. I
’m surprised she wasn’t using it today.”

“She can
’t be that old,” Odin said.

“She
’s perhaps only ten years older than me.”

“Which would only make her fifty
-something.”

“Yes, but sometimes the world takes its toll on those who do kind things for people.”

What a wicked way to see the world.

Rather than continue his train of thought, Odin freed his fingers from Virgin
’s grasp, stood, then rounded the table before allowing his hand to grasp his father’s shoulder.

“Thank you for letting us stay here for the night,” he said, leaning down to wrap an arm around his father
’s torso.

“You don
’t need to thank me, Odin. You’re welcome here anytime you want.”

“Is there any way I can convince you to come to the capital with us?”

“You know I’m not leaving.”

You always were stubborn on this issue,
Odin thought.

Sighing, he leaned forward, kissed his father
’s cheek, then grabbed the sack from the floor before turning and heading down the hall, leaving both Virgin and his father to talk of finer matters and lighter things.

“Is everything all right?” Virgin asked, knocking on the open door before entering.

“Everything
’s fine,” Odin said, arranging a clean pair of clothes on the bed. “Why?”

“I didn
’t expect you to run in here so quickly.”

“I want to get the…” Odin paused, then lowered his voice.
“The book
in here.”

Virgin mouthed an
‘oh’ before using his heel to close the door. His eyes strayed from the bed, to Odin, then to where the bag sat before returning to Odin once more. “Sorry.”

“It
’s all right. I just don’t want my father finding what it is.”

“I doubt your father
’s going to go through your things, Odin.”

“Still…”

With an understanding nod, Virgin tested the mattress, then settled down at the end of it, reaching up to run his hands along his face before returning his attention to the wall—where, just above the doorway, a wooden sword lay displayed in all its glory.

“I forgot about that,” Odin said, following Virgin
’s eyes across the room. “That was the first sword my father ever taught me to use.”

“Was he a soldier
as well?” Virgin asked.

“No, but he
’s one hell of a fighter.”

“I can imagine.” The Halfling toyed with the dagger at his ribs before pulling it out of its sheath and
setting it on the desk. “I assume this is where—“

“I read,” Odin said. “And learned to write.”

“Most woodcutting men would have no reason to teach their children either.”

“My father thought it best to know both.”

“It’s quite a useful skill, one that many don’t know how to use, sadly.” Virgin toyed with the corner of the desk before returning his eyes to Odin. They narrowed, first, then opened entirely, before his lips pursed.

“What?” Odin asked.

“Why don’t you want to stay longer?”

“Because I need to get back to the castle.”

“Why so suddenly after you’ve been gone so long?”

“I
’m afraid of the persecution, Virgin.”

“Who
’s going to say that you’ve returned? A messenger?”

“A falconer more like it.” Odin threw back one corner of the neatly-made bedspread and settled down on it before reaching to untie his boots.

“What are the chances of there being a falconer in any of the towns we’ve passed?”

“Uh, hello—there
’s Ke’Tarka, for one. They send and receive messages to the capital all the time. Then there’s Dwaydor, which, despite its appearance, is more than capable of having the same type of communication.”

“If anything,” Virgin replied, “your king will be happy to know you
’re safe—and, as it would appear, making your way back to the capital. I doubt they’d train birds to follow you.”

“Don
’t be so sure.”

“What
’s that supposed to mean?”

“You
’ve never heard of mages using birds as their eyes?” When Virgin made no move to respond, Odin laughed and kicked his boots across the room. “I mean, if there are any mages in Ke’Tarka, which I’m guessing there are, then they’d be more than capable of doing just what I’ve described.”

“You can
’t blame me for not knowing these things.”

“I don
’t.” Odin stood. “We should probably go out and into the kitchen. My father’s likely making food.”

“Will one of us need to hunt during our time spent here?”

“The village shares its rations. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was venison already on the table.”

Ectris prepared for them a fine feast of venison and carefully-canned fruits and vegetables. Atop the table, that of which Odin had spent many a meal at during his youth, stood the platter of meat thick and layered with juices, while at its sides lay onions freshly cut and carrots diced to manageable pieces. Upon first glance, Virgin stepped forward and examined the setup closer, as if unable to believe what he was currently seeing, while from the kitchen Ectris raised his head from preparing what appeared to be some form of cake that would soon be slid into the oven.

“Sit down, sit down,” Ectris said. “Go ahead and eat. I
’ll be there in a moment.”

Though given permission to do so at any given time, both Odin and Virgin took kind measure in waiting for their host to finish his preparations and seat himself before spoon
ing food onto their plates. Odin speared the tip of an onion on the top of a fork and then impaled a piece of meat directly under it, relishing the flavor of fresh, if somewhat-dated foot, then turned his attention to his father and offered a smile the older man returned instantaneously.

“I missed this,” Odin said.

“There’s not much I can do about the quality of the fruits and vegetables,” Ectris replied, “but I did my best.”

“It
’s good,” Virgin nodded. “The best food either of us have had on our way back.”

“Virgin
’s right, Father. Give yourself credit.”

“I appreciate that, boys. Now eat—there
’s more than enough to go around.”

That was shown
to be true within the hour they spent eating. Much of the venison was devoured, while what little of the vegetables remained despite Virgin’s heightened inclination toward them. Ectris himself relished the food he served and leaned back in his seat to brace a hand over his stomach, then stood and began to gather the dishes that had accumulated over the meal.

While Odin rose to help his father, and while Virgin made preparations to transfer what little meat there was into a pot he pul
led from one of the drawers in the kitchen, Ectris looked upon both of them with eyes that seemed to radiate happiness despite the news that had been delivered earlier.

Well, Father,
Odin thought, careful to stand side-by-side his adoptive parent while helping with the dishes.
It looks like you have a son-in-law.

When he cast his eyes across the room, Virgin nodded to acknowledge the look.

“I’d like to take the rest of the food over to Karma when we’re through,” Ectris said, raising his eyes from their work.

“I
’ll do it,” Odin said.

“You don
’t have to, son.”

“I know. I
’d like to spend some time with her before we go though—say goodbye before we have to get back to the capital.”

“Do you plan on leaving soon?”

“Tomorrow might be in our best interests.”

From the table, Virgin raised his eyes and gave Odin a look.

Sorry,
he mouthed.

Virgin simply wav
ed his hand and continued arranging the remaining vegetables around the venison.

In response, Odin took the rag offered by his father and scrubbed the l
ast plate, then placed it on a towel to dry before lifting the bucket of dirty water out of the sink.

“Let me dump this out,” Odin said. “Then I
’ll take the food over to mother Karma.”

“Do you remember where she lives?”

“Like the back of my hand.”

Mother Karma lived on the opposite side of the hill on a road that had been created to lead where a group of establishments had been planned after the deforestation to the north of Felnon’s ‘hump.’ However, in years past, and when winter conditions had worsened, it had become increasingly apparent that building homes on that side of the hill would pose more of a threat than any pleasantries it could offer, as it had been proven to create miniature avalanches and bury anything beneath it. Despite these realities, and regardless of the claims made by the contractors, Mother Karma had never once made any move to relocate from the single home near the hill.

Why do you have to live so far out?
he thought, trembling, forcing himself not to look at the hill to his left as he continued along the road.
Why couldn’t you have lived closer, maybe next to my father?

So far as he remembered, no one lived in the house to the direct south of his father
’s homestead—unless people had moved in over the years he’d been gone, or the home itself had been retooled for other uses. Why couldn’t Karma have moved into one of them and saved herself the risk of getting trapped in her home during the winter?

Whatever the reason, Odin couldn
’t allow it to bother him, as tonight would be the last he spent in Felnon for a while.

Shaking his head, he freed scattered flakes of snow that had developed on the lengthened parts of his bangs and pushed his hair out of his eyes when he saw the house rising in the distance. Small, well-kempt and apparently freshly-redone, it appeared like nothing he had seen in his childhood—when, as a boy, he
’d once gone running up the road in search of the very woman he’d considered to be his mother after a long, lonely day in order to recant to her a series of thoughts that had occurred after he read from a book of chivalry.