Brotherhood Saga 03: Death (94 page)

“I
’m glad you found Virgin, Odin. It makes me happy to see that you have someone who cares about you.”

“You mean you don
’t care?”

“I could care less whether you
’re queer or not.”

“I
’m not necessarily sure if I’m
just
queer, if you want the truth.”

“You
’ve considered women?”

“Sometimes, yes, but only when I
’ve thought about having a family.”

“Ah,” Ectris smiled. “The joys of being a knight and only ever having men around you.”

After a smile spread across his face, Odin reached up, set a hand to his chest, then pushed Gainea forward.

They continued along the rocky path in silence.

Virgin was seated at the table and sipping cold tea when the two of them returned from their hour-long excursion. His hair pulled into ponytail, his
Elven ears all but revealed, he raised his eyes to examine them with his sharp green eyes, then turned his attention back to his tea, offering a mute smile as the door closed behind them.

“I didn
’t know you were an Elf,” Ectris finally said.

“I
’m not,” Virgin replied. “I’m a Halfling. Just like Odin is.”

Frowning, Odin bent down, kicked the snow off his boots, then undid his shoelaces before advancing toward the table, careful to set his arms around his companion
’s shoulder as Virgin raised his cup to sip from it.

“Either way,” Ectris said, removing his boots. “I still don
’t understand the whole Halfling thing.”

“It
’s genetic. Passed on from my mother.”

“I don
’t understand something though. You have long ears and facial hair. Odin barely has any and shorter ears.”

“As I understand, Odin
’s facial hair—what little he has, anyway—was a gift given to him by his biological father. I inherited my body hair from my father and my ears from my mother.”

“It
’s a bit confusing.”

“Do you think it could have anything to do with whose parent was the Elf?”
Odin asked.

“Your
problem could lie in the fact that you’re technically not really a Halfling, since your father was part Drow and all.”

“So that would make him,” Ectris began, then paused before he could continue. “Well, I
’m not sure what that would make him.”

“Very special for sure.” Virgin gave Odin a slight nod, then sipped his tea some more. “Do you have anything you can serve for breakfast?”

“I can make something if you’d like me to. I’d just planned on making some soup.”

“That works,” Odin said. “You don
’t have to do anything too fancy, Father. We plan on leaving tomorrow morning—don’t we, Virgin?”

“I suppose,” the Halfling said.

Odin released his hold on his companion’s shoulders and took a seat next to him.

Ectris, likely unsure what to do, stepped into the kitchen and began to gather the necessary vegetables to make a stew.

“Could one of you bring a pail of snow in?” Ectris asked.

Virgin rose without a word.

Odin progressed through the day becoming more and more anxious. His chest a pit of fire in which propellant was constantly spewed—his ribs the kindling, his blood the alcohol
, his heart the spark—it seemed that any time he tried to consider what was going to happen his heart would begin to pound. Why he couldn’t be sure, as there weren’t any pressing matters at hand, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was because they would be leaving tomorrow morning.

Calm down
.

In his
room, done-up to the best of his ability and assuming the position that it had not been slept in for years, he paced back and forth and occasionally allowed his eyes to fall to the pack on the floor.

“It
’s all right,” Odin mumbled, tangling his fingers through his hair.

No matter how hard he tried, he could not dispel he notion from his head.

Come tomorrow morning, they would embark for Ornala and that would be that.

If only he could get his father to come with him.

Not wanting to think about his stubborn parent or the fact that he refused to leave his little home, Odin collapsed on the bed and closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep, but knowing that was unlikely.

You should be out there with your father.

Then again, who was he to dismiss his father and Virgin’s conversion just like that, without so much as a passing thought? He could have a moment to himself. There was no harm in that.

As he closed his eyes, he attempted to force his thoughts to grind to a halt and instead received nothing but
rows of Elvish text scrolling across his vision.

Lenna Arda,
the first line read.
The Book of the Dead.

Odin
’s eyes snapped open.

T
he rafters seemed larger, ready to bear down at any moment. Crack, snap, bow, contort—flex it would form the woods it was so nailed to and groan as it tried to break away, to collapse upon the one who wished to do the wrong of all wrongs. He half-expected one of them to break off and spear him to the bed as if he were some great, vampiric creature who need be bound to the grave in order to not rise from it. Such was his fear that, in his dazed state, his fingers curled around the quilts and his breath ceased to come.

A knock came at the door.

Odin gasped. “Come in,” he said.

The door opened to reveal Ectris, ey
es unsure and mouth painted in a frown. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“I
’m just worried about leaving you here, that’s all.”

“You shouldn
’t be worrying about me, Odin. Hell—I’ve been here for the past five years on my own.”

“I should
’ve tried to come back more often.”

“Your life is much more important than mine. You are the king
’s champion, after all.”

“But it would be so much simpler if we lived closer together.”

“I know,” Ectris said. He rounded the mattress and seated himself beside Odin. “There comes a time when every parent has to let his or her child go. Besides—it’s much better for you if there’s more distance between the two of us anyway. It gives me less bearing on your life and whatever it is you do with it.”

“I value your opinion.”

“Yes, but sometime my opinion’s just a load of horseshit.”

Odin snorted. Ectris smiled and clapped his thigh. “God, Odin. I can
’t believe how much you’ve grown up in five short years.”

“I
’ve tried.”

“You have. I
’m proud to call you my son.”

“And I
’m proud to call you my father,” Odin said.

After pushing himself forward, he wrapped his arms around his father
’s shoulders, then bowed his head into the man’s neck.

Your last day,
his conscience whispered, running a single finger from the base of his skull to the end of his tailbone.

He would make the most of it.

Come time the sun rose the following morning, Odin
’s nerves were all but wrecked.

Standing outside the house with his hands jabbed in his pockets a
nd his eyes set toward the stable, Odin watched as Virgin, assisted by Ectris, led the single horse they would be riding into Ornala out into the open air. The horse, obviously distraught from not having enough physical activity the past few days, tossed its head and let out a slight bay of frustration as Virgin tugged its reins down.

“Odin,” Ectris said, gesturing him forward. “Calm this thing down.”

“What makes you think I can do it?”

“You
’re the one that’s good with animals.”

With that thought firmly implanted within everyone
’s conscience, Odin stepped forward, raised his hand above the horse’s head, then pressed it onto its snout, where he then applied a slow, steady pressure until it stopped its frustrations and locked its eyes directly on him.

“It
’s all right,” Odin said, bowing his head until their brows touched. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Grunting, the stallion pushed his head against Odin
’s chest.

“See?” Ectris asked.

“I wish I had a way with animals,” Virgin said, stumbling back when the horse turned to glower at him. “Easy, friend.”

“I guess this is where I say goodbye for now,” Odin sighed, stepping into his father
’s arms. “Thank you for putting us up for the past few days.”

“You don
’t need to thank me,” Ectris said, accepting the kiss to the cheek Odin had to offer before opening his arms to give Virgin a hug. “It was nice meeting you. Take good care of my boy, you hear?”

“I will, sir. Don
’t worry.”

“Will you say goodbye to Karma for us?” Odin asked.

“You don’t plan on going yourself?” Ectris frowned.

“It
’s much too early to bother her.”

“I
’ll be sure to give her your regards.”

After Virgin mounted the horse, Odin reached up, accepted his companion
’s hand, then vaulted onto the stallion’s back before settling back against Virgin’s chest. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” he decided to ask one last time.

“I
’ll write to you if I do,” Ectris said, raising a hand as Virgin gestured the horse toward the road. “Write to me anyway. Let me know what’s going on!”

“I will,” Odin said, raising his hand in return. “Goodbye!”

“Goodbye,” Virgin said.

Ectris offered one slight wave, then turned and took a few steps toward the stable.

“Will you be all right?” Virgin asked, pressing a hand against Odin’s upper arm.

“I
’ll be fine,” Odin said, reaching up to rub his eyes. “I’m just a big baby lately.”

“Don
’t say that. You’re much stronger than you think.”

“I hope so,” Odin sighed.

He took one final look back at his father before both the stable and his childhood home faded from view.

Directly before them, the ghostly village lingered on, completely white and covered in snow.

Guess this is it then,
he thought.

“On the road again.”

They cleared the Felnon forest in but a morning
’s travel and broke out of the opposite side of the woods by the time the sun passed halfway through the sky. A bit disheartened and already missing home, Odin kept to himself and stared at the path—which would, in but a few days’ time, lead them to the capital.

“Everything all right?” Virgin asked what seemed like countless silent hours later. “You
’re being awfully quiet.”

“I
’m just disappointed that he didn’t want to come with us.”

“He seems a bit stubborn in that regard.”

“He’s lived in Felnon almost his whole life. He won’t leave until the day he dies.”

“Some people are lik
e that,” the older Halfling mused.

Nodding, Odin shook his head, then allowed his eyes to fall to the horse and reins beneath them, his attention immediately se
ttling on the snow at their horse’s and the way it twinkled like a thousand diamonds on a dark night. The affect, almost-blinding, forced him to reorient his head to look at the horizon, which did little to douse the snow’s intense scrutiny.

This is mad,
he thought.

Why now, of all times, was he sensitized to
light?

Behind him, Virgin shifted and took a deep breath, then expelled it so close to his ear that Odin could hear it whispering by his head. Shortly thereafter,
the Halfling turned his head and sneezed, a sound which sent the blackbirds in the nearby trees into the sky with curses following their ascent. “Sorry,” Virgin said, sniffling what sounded like a nose full of snot back into his head.

“You know that can make you sick, right?”

“I don’t have a handkerchief to wipe it on.”

Odin reached down, fumbled through one of the saddle
’s many pockets, then returned with a simple white rag, which he passed to Virgin with little word in response.

A short moment later,
Virgin reached forward to place the rag back into the pocket and said, “Thanks.”

Odin only nodded
.

All one of them needed was to get sick.

Everything will be fine.

He had no concern about his or his companion
’s health, as he’d immediately remedied the potentially-dangerous situation by having Virgin blow his nose, and while that didn’t necessarily protect him from any sort of illness they could succumb to from the cold, at least it gave them one form of precaution.