-*--*-
The next day somehow managed to dawn with a thick, grey overcast, and Shammael made them construct an improvisational canopy behind his cabin. Under this he placed his wooden bathing-tub and proceeded to mix the various ingredients for the curse-remedy therein.
Only about half an hour after he had begun this lengthy task, the drizzle started – pouring hopelessly and endlessly down over the heads of the other four, who tried their best to keep under the canopy without getting in the Healer's way. Then, it turned out that not only was the curse-remedy a kind of oil, in which the subjects would have to submerge themselves completely – it also stunk to high heaven. As Shammael finally added the Dusklily extract, Samina was very happy that she could flee the scene.
Followed by twin strings of harsh and elaborate-sounding dwarven swearwords, she hurried around Shammael's cabin, keeping both nose and mouth carefully covered until the door was securely closed behind her.
Judeau looked up from his seat by the fire and grinned at her expression.
"What?" he asked.
She screwed her face up further and shuddered, without having to exaggerate at all.
"Pe-yewww! Holy crap on a stick, but that stuff reeks!" She waved her hand around as if trying to expel the mere memory of the horrible stench, and walked over to the fire. When she sat down, Judeau leaned towards her and sniffed comically at the air.
"Well," he surmised, leaning back again and still smiling, "It didn't stick to you."
She gave him a very serious look and scooted closer to the warm flames. "Be grateful. I'm too hopping wet for any smell to stick to me."
"As far as I recall, nobody forced you to go out there."
She muttered a half-hearted "Shut up," as she pulled her sodden boots and jacket off. "I was being supportive."
He handed her a gently steaming cup of Shammael's harmless herbal tea, nodding indulgently.
"I'm sure it's appreciated."
"Thank you." She gave him a smile over the top of the cup. "Nah, probably not. Useless bunch of ingrates they are, those non-humans."
He chuckled, and they sat for a while in silence, watching the flames. Samina felt the warmth of the tea slowly seep through the sides of the cup and into her cold, stiff fingers, sending small shivers of contentment through her body. She took a sip and ignored the sting of burn against her tongue, feeling the hot tea travel all the way down into her stomach and begin to warm her up from within.
She closed her eyes and heaved a small, contented sigh. After only a short while in the warmth of the fire, her hair had already almost stopped dripping.
The soothing effect of the fire and the hot tea brought her the slow realisation that she hadn't gotten three consecutive hours of sleep in days – having opted instead to steal what few, short naps she could during the day, so that she could keep watch at the pasture through the night – and she now felt quite reasonably tired and mushy.
She wished that she had thought of bringing the chair over to the fire, so she could just have leaned back and dozed off for a while. After all, Shammael had said that it would take some time yet to finish his work, so the dwarves wouldn't be showing up anytime soon, loudly venting their opinions on foul-smelling herbs – no, weeds – and slow-working Healers.
Of course, the shaggy hearthrug would have done quite fine to curl up on… if only Judeau hadn't been occupying half of it. She stifled a sigh, then a yawn, and leaned her chin against one knee, trying to make herself as comfortable as she could where she sat.
Her mind had just begun to drift off when a quiet murmur momentarily called her back to the world of the waking:
"Still fresh…"
Samina glanced over at Judeau. The warmth of the hearth had made him roll his sleeves up to his elbows, and he was now thoughtfully tracing the red, horribly jagged scars on his right arm with the tips of his fingers. His face held a small, sad frown, and he didn't seem to be aware that he had said those two words out loud.
"I've noticed," Samina mumbled softly, before her drowsy mind could stop her. Judeau sent her a quick, sharp glance that confirmed, to her embarrassment, that neither of them had been talking about his physical scars. She quickly looked away and fought off an urge to guiltily clear her throat.
She heard him let out a light puff of breath and lean back a little, but when he spoke again his voice was as clear and calm as always:
"So, where do we go from here?"
Samina glanced back over at him. He was pulling his sleeves down, hiding the scars away again, and the frown on his face had vanished without a trace.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," he said, meeting her gaze with one of his easy smiles, "Since you're not letting me fix my own problem by myself, I'm thinking that you guys might have a better plan. So, what do we do, or where do we go to get this curse off of me? Is there someone we can ask, or something? Will Taskkarr and Steelwing want to use me as monster-bait for a few years, first? What's the plan, here?"
"Ah, yeah…" She sucked her breath in between her teeth and gave him a slightly sheepish grin. "We should have a plan, shouldn't we? Well, of course we're going to help you get rid of your curse right away…" She caught herself for a moment and chuckled, "Though I can't promise that the guys won't take advantage of it while we're searching for the cure."
Judeau gave her a wry but amused smile, and she gave a quiet chuckle before continuing:
"Okay, give me a moment and I'll think up some alternatives. Thirgynn might be a little more knowledgeable, but I've actually done some research on the matter of curses, myself…" While she collected her thoughts, Samina muttered under her breath: "…I mean, when you've got two beardless dwarves on your hand, you will want to know anything and everything on how to change them back again… before they successfully make your life a living…"
She shut herself up with a wry shake of her head, as the mere memory of the past months' incessant whining and griping threatened to redouble her weariness.
Focusing then, and unseeingly gazing into the dark depths of her tea, Samina tried to remember everything she had ever learnt about curses. Everything that Thirgynn had found out about Judeau's curse at the night of the divination ritual, and everything else that she had managed to dig up in conversations, books and old scriptures.
After a long moment of silent mulling-over, she finally turned to Judeau and scooted back until she rested her back against the timbered wall.
"Well," she began briskly, "The first thing to consider is of course the nature of the curse itself. If it's as powerful as Thirgynn said it was – if it was placed on you by a being anywhere near as powerful as a god – then it's really too potent for any common spirit mage to remove."
Judeau frowned and held up a stalling hand. "Wait, hang on… 'Spirit mage'?"
"Yes, spirit summoners, spirit healers… they are the kind of magic-users that you usually turn to in order to have a curse removed. But if the curse that the pesky necromancer put on Steelwing and the dwarves was too potent for common spirit mages, then this one is sure to be so, as well."
Judeau's frown deepened, and he interrupted again: "Uh, okay, wait just a moment, here… there are people who usually takes care of curses? Then, firstly: Are curses really that common? And secondly: Why couldn't one of those help you guys?"
Samina smiled. "Good questions, both. Let me try to give you some good answers for them. Firstly: No, curses are not common, not in any way. Neither are mages, really… they are expensive up to here, though, but that's beside the point. Back to curses: While they do happen, they are nowhere near as common as they must seem to you, right now – in fact, in all my life, this is the only time any of my associates, friends or acquaintances have ever been cursed. Usually it'll only happen to you if you've angered the wrong witch or broken into a rich man's tomb, in which case the curse might not be very powerful, but carefully worded enough to have you dead… or otherwise… before you've had a chance to find a spirit mage. Which kind of brings me to your second question."
She paused for a moment, trying to find the right words, and Judeau shifted his position in slight restlessness.
"You see," she continued, "According to what I've found out, a curse is much more dependent of the actual wording than of the strength of the spell; a carefully worded curse won't need to be very powerful in order to do its job. And also, a curse can never be worded to directly kill someone: You can never say 'May you die from the green plague' since that'll only make the curse fizzle out the moment it's spoken. You can say 'May you catch the green plague', though, but then there's a chance that the subject will survive it. Nobody knows why it's like this, but some say that the God of death won't allow you to determine another creature's fate by use of magic, or something. Anyway, it's the wording that makes curses hard to cast, as I've understood it."
"Okay." Judeau nodded slowly, a frown of slight confusion creasing his brow. "…And how does this answer the question of why you couldn't be helped by a spirit mage?"
Samina waved a stalling hand at him. "I'm getting there. I'm just explaining piece-by-piece, so you'll get the whole picture. Don't interrupt."
"Sorry, I thought you had stopped talking. Go on."
"Okay. Now, then, we're getting to the point: When the necromancer saw us coming, knowing that we'd fought our way through all of his defences and were still going strong, he knew that he was done for. Being a necromancer of the alchemical persuasion, he most likely didn't have any quick or easy spells that affected several people at once – except for the curse… So he used it. And he knowingly put so much power into this final spell that it burnt out his own mind and soul – it's one of the most terrible and devastating ways a mage can die, commonly referred to as a 'suicide spell'. He died in an instant, but accomplished two, to him apparently very important things: The strength of the spell left an imprint on us – well, them, but you know what I mean – that no mortal mage could ever hope to remove, so sooner or later, no matter how badly he might have screwed up the wording, the curse would most likely be the end of us. And secondly, casting a suicide spell made it absolutely impossible for us to take him alive, or kill him ourselves. He got to 'keep his honour' and get revenge on us, all in one neat little package."
Judeau nodded absently to himself, frowning thoughtfully at the flames in the hearth again. "Okay, I see now. So if you guys couldn't turn to a spirit mage because your curse was so… powerful? Strong? Potent? What's the word?"
"Thirgynn prefers 'potent'."
"Right, potent… then you're saying my curse is even more potent than yours? There's no way a spirit mage can help me?"
Samina frowned as well and shook her head. "I'm afraid not. If a god, demigod or demon lord placed that mark on you, with all the power that that entails, then only the power of a god can remove it again." She leaned her head back against the wall and tried an encouraging smile. "So that's why I think we should try to beseech the gods."
Judeau looked over at her, both eyebrows raised in surprise.
"So the gods… are real, then?"
She frowned at him. "You've been possessed by a ghost and suffered at the hands of demons, but you won't believe in gods?"
Judeau glanced down at the palm of his left hand, and then tried to disguise doing so by running the hand through his hair. "Well, I… Well, in the world that I come from, the priests claimed that their God was the only true faith, and that any and all other religion was demon worshipping… as far as they acknowledged other religions at all, that is. And they always preached that all men were created different – that poor people had less value than the nobles and the rich people… that those from the lower classes should never be so arrogant and sinful as to try to rise above their ordained lot in life, for God had created them insufficient to do that."
Samina couldn't help herself. "What the…?" she irately exclaimed, "Now, that's just hopping ridiculous! Don't tell me you bought that… crap."
Judeau turned to her with a small smile, calmly shaking his head. "No, I also found that hard to believe, especially in the company of…" He caught himself for a fraction of a second but continued smoothly, "…Of all the good men in the Band of the Hawk. Most of us were from the lower classes, you know, but we worked our way up, proving our worth time and time again… and as we got nearer to the top… I started to see things." He made stalling gestures at the expression on her face and hurriedly continued, "Not see things, not like that, but I noticed things in the behaviour of the priests and the nobles… I saw them and their fine houses and big dinners and full treasuries… while so many people starved and suffered and believed that they were being punished by God for… for simply being born. It didn't seem right."
He shook his head slowly, frowning at the fire. "There was so much corruption. I just couldn't keep my faith when I looked closer, and saw that the people God had supposedly created as nobler and better than the rest of us turned out to be every bit as corruptible, decrepit and simple as those they ruled. To me, God became just another lie that the rich people told the poor to keep them in their place, and the gold in their own pockets. I guess I became wary of religion since then... not to mention all the stupid – and sometimes downright frightening – things that religion can make some people do."
"Yeah, I hear you… but," Samina hesitantly asked, not quite sure why this one thing made her feel so uncomfortable, "You only believed in one god? One single god? Were there no other religions at all?"
He shrugged, seeming to give the question some serious thinking. "None that the church allowed the people to know about, at least. Those that the priests did acknowledge were weird, depraved cults of heretics – stuff really fit to scare naughty children with, you know – that they of course smashed to 'serve as an example to others' and show how good and righteous they were." Then he paused, thoughtfully looking off to the side before continuing quietly: "…Of course, there was the ancient tradition of the spirits of nature and the four elemental lords…" He shrugged again. "But nobody really believed in that anymore, and anyone who would have tried teaching those old ways would certainly be burned as a heretic as well."
Samina let out a small, exasperated puff of breath.
"Gods-cursed, hopping fanatics hopping everywhere…" she mumbled quietly, but quickly composed herself and cleared her throat.
"Okay, well," she briskly forged on, "In this world, there are plenty of religions. From small, local beliefs to country-spanning doctrines, and even I can't deny that the gods are, indeed, real. As real as demons, if not quite as corporeal, if you get what I mean. But what is important to you, Judeau, is that the gods have holy power that can oppose and most often overcome the unholy energies of demons. A god might well be able to take that curse off of you – after all, it worked for us."
Judeau blinked in realisation and tapped his temple with one finger. "That's right, you guys said you got cured by a god before seeking Shammael… so that wasn't just some kind of advanced counter-spell, then."
"Nope." She shook her head. "Like I said, no counter-spell would have worked. This was the real deal."
He shifted position again, scooted a little closer to her and gave her a very businesslike look.
"All right, then: What gods can we turn to, where do we find them, and what do you think I'm going to have to pay?"
"Pay?" She rolled her eyes and smiled wryly. "Your immortal soul, of course. What else could a god want?" Then she leaned forward as well, turning as businesslike as him. "But seriously, there's a chance that you'll get away with performing a quest in the God's name, or serving at a temple for an odd number of years… I don't know for certain. I don't deal much with the gods, myself. As for the who and where… well…"
She paused, thoughtfully scratching her scarred nose before looking up at him again with a cheerful grin.
"Actually," she said, "We have plenty of options. However, I happen to have a good idea of where we should start: You see, the one religion that almost all countries in this world must at least recognise is the tenet of the Eight Gods. This is the absolutely largest religion, and the gods are both very strong and very significant – but besides the Eight strongest, the ones who 'keeps the balance,' there are a myriad of lesser, more local and specialised gods. We should start there, with the Eight, and maybe explore the Lesser Gods if that don't work out. Beyond that, there are still more religions and gods we can turn to, if it should somehow come that far. First, though, I'm going to give you a quick course in the 'Eight Gods', because it's important and you should know about it. I should have done this sooner, but… well… religious stuff tends to slip my mind."
Judeau nodded. "Okay. You can start by explaining what you meant by 'keeping the balance'…?"
She felt another sheepish little smile creep onto her face, and rubbed her scarred nose again in an attempt to hide it. "I… don't know. Really. Like I've said, I'm not religious. The priests sometimes mention this 'balance', but they never explain it… and I tend to stop listening after a while, anyway." She cleared her throat and looked up at him again. "But it seems more like something they just say, without quite understanding themselves – so it's not something you need to understand, either. What's important is that you know about the Eight and their differences."
"Right…" Judeau didn't look too convinced, but let the subject go. "Most importantly, though: can they help me?"
"Most likely. The question is if they would be willing to, and if you would be willing to pay their price. Like the three malevolent Gods; Vakil, God of pain; Valdon, God of war and brutality; and Arachna, Goddess of lies and darkness – They would either prefer to leave your curse as it is, because of the potential suffering it could bring, or they would be only too happy to help and suspiciously diffuse about the price. Either way, they're not the kind of guys you'd want to deal with, so let's move on."
"Yes, let's," Judeau agreed, a look of faint, incredulous horror on his face. "Turning to those sounds about as bad as just letting the demons eat me."
Samina gave him a quick nod of agreement. "Yeah, it probably would be. The three benevolent Gods, though, might just be worth a shot. There's Thyr, god of chivalry and warfare, Aria, Goddess of light, and Freija, Goddess of life and fertility. Especially Aria and Freija might be inclined to help you, since your curse attracts demons and undead, and Aria harbours a great hate for demons and Freija feels the same way about the undead. I'm thinking it's worth asking, at least."
Judeau nodded. "Yes, that does sound like a far better option. And the other two Gods?"
Samina knitted her fingers together and pulled one leg up against her chest. "The other two are the two neutral Gods. One is Keran, God of the hunt and the beasts, and incidentally the same God that Shammael happens to be a priest for. As far as I've understood, the Master of the Beast keeps his plans to himself and rarely helps anyone who's not an active and useful worshipper. He's the spirit of the wild, of the predator, so he's considered both good and evil, entirely depending on who you ask."
Her voice dropped a little, and she felt as though the warmth from the fire grew fainter as she quietly continued: "The other neutral God is the Nameless One, also known as the Balance-keeper, the Ultimate or the Final One. The one that everybody sooner or later runs into – the God of death. He might be an option, too, since the hatred that Freija has for the undead is matched and exceeded only by His. Then again, He very rarely interferes with the living – according to the priests, His only purpose is to be, not to act… Whatever that's supposed to mean." She pulled her knee a little closer up towards her chin and felt an uneasy frown crease her brow.
"Personally," she mumbled, "I'd rather keep very clear of Him."
Judeau studied her for a brief moment, and then his gaze slid back to the flames. He thoughtfully rubbed his round nose.
"Okay," he said calmly, leaning back a little. "Then we have something of a plan. That's good. Now we wait and hear what the others have to say, I suppose?"
She nodded. "That would be for the best, yeah."
A small, uncertain wrinkle had appeared between his eyebrows, and after a brief moment he turned to her again.
"But the God that you guys turned to, the dwarf God, wouldn't he be able to help, too?"
She shook her head. "Unfortunately not. He only helped us because the dwarves were afflicted – he's one of the 'Lesser' Gods, because he's so hopping specialised. We knew that there was a great chance that he would only lift the curse from the dwarves, despite everything that Steelwing had done on the quest, but Steelwing said that he was ready to take that risk – that it didn't really matter as long as he got to vanquish some evil. No, Vontar deals with his dwarves and that's it… For him to even acknowledge an elf, let alone help him… it's unheard of." She sighed and gazed off through the small window at the other end of the cabin, watching the rain pour down outside.
"But then again," she mused quietly, "Steelwing is not a normal elf in any way. He's a Crusader. He fights with the same death-defying fury as the dwarves, and I know that both Thirgynn and Taskkarr are impressed by him… even considers him an honourable man… and maybe… just maybe… even a friend." A small smile made the corners of her lips twitch. "Though they would rather shave themselves than admit that, of course. I guess Vontar did it for them."
There was a small smile in Judeau's voice as he broke the brief silence.
"And you're impressed by him too, aren't you?"
There was an insinuating, mischievous little spark in his eyes that made Samina feel oddly embarrassed. She decided to ignore it, carefully painting a look of innocence on her face.
"Of course," she admitted freely. "It's kind of hard to see him fight and not be impressed, and I've seen him fight plenty of times. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."
That annoying little smile did not disappear from Judeau's boyish features, but he looked away and gave a small nod.
"Yes, yes, I know…"
She couldn't help but frown in annoyance.
"What? What are you trying to say? Why are you smiling like that?"
He held both hands up as if to ward away her indignation and laughed. "Nothing, nothing! You just remind me of someone, that's all."
"Who?" she demanded, her annoyance only furthered by his laughter, "And why? What's so hopping funny?"
He looked away again and shook his head, still smiling and chuckling quietly to himself.
"No, no… It's really nothing, I promise. You wouldn't get it… actually, it's not even funny."
Biting her tongue to keep from making any more comments, Samina leaned back with a quiet huff, willing herself to just let it go – and not quite sure why she felt as though a blush threatened to rise to her cheeks. She directed her glare over at the window and crossed both arms over her chest, hoping that he wouldn't address her again before she'd gotten this weird feeling of embarrassment back under control.
He didn't, and after a while she tentatively glanced over at him again. His smile was gone, and that absent-minded, sad little frown had nestled itself onto his brow once more. The fingers of his right hand were slowly brushing over his down-turned left palm.
What's going on in there, Judeau? she thought. You'd better not be thinking about leaving again.
"Hey," she said quietly, "What are you thinking about?"
His whole body twitched and his hands quickly balled into fists, but the face he turned to her was the perfect image of innocence, like he'd merely been startled out of an inconsequential reverie.
"Hm?"
Samina wasn't buying it. "You're doing it again, Judeau. You're brooding. What's going on?"
He smiled a very easy smile, but avoided eye contact as he shook his head.
"Nothing's going on. I'm fine."
"Uh-huh. Right. I'm not convinced. The last time I let you get away with wearing a face like that, you almost ran off on your own private little suicide mission."
"It's nothing like that, I assure you."
"Then what is it?"
He kept on smiling, staring into the flames, and just calmly shook his head. Samina almost let out a frustrated sigh.
"Judeau, come on. This time, you have to tell me – before you do something heroically stupid."
"Tsh…" he sighed, leaning away from her a bit, the first hints of a frown on his face. "I just have a lot to think about, since the Brand reappeared. I'm dealing with it."
Now we're getting somewhere. Samina calmly took another sip of her tea. "How?"
Judeau's frown deepened and he sent her a slightly annoyed glance, which she responded to by raising both her eyebrows in emphasis of her question. He turned his frown on the fire again and let out a small huff of exasperation.
"I feel stupid, okay? I thought that those feelings the drugs imposed on me were real – that I'd left my past behind me and all was fine. I just feel like I should have known… that it wasn't going to be that easy."
Samina blinked, thinking about the few, incoherent things he'd mumbled when he'd been hanging off of her shoulder, right after the ghost's possession. "It was easy?"
Judeau scowled at the flames. "Comparatively easy, at least. It was like… like I just forgot about them. Like they didn't matter anymore."
"They, who?" she gently, softly inquired. Judeau sighed and some of the previous sadness shone through in his features.
"Everyone. The Band of the Hawk: All my friends and… everyone. I can't believe I just… forgot about them, just like that, and didn't think there was something strange going on."
Samina thoughtfully sucked on the inside of her cheek, before speaking again in a soft, careful voice:
"Well, you're a sharp man, Judeau. I bet you pride yourself in your ability to notice things – I mean, you're a scout, after all – but… how were you supposed to know? You didn't know that you were being drugged, did you?"
He glanced over at her, still frowning, and shook his head slightly. She gave an empathic shrug.
"Drugs will do that to you – The whole point with poisons like Heart's Rest is that you're not supposed to know you're affected. You didn't know and you couldn't have known. Besides, it's a human trait to always try to convince yourself that what you want to believe is true… the drug just made it a whole lot easier to do so. Don't beat yourself up about it – you were just being human."
He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before sending her a small, wan smile.
"Yeah. I guess you're right."
But he looked away again, and Samina frowned uncertainly. That's not all, though, is it?
As much as she felt that he'd rather be left alone to think, she still didn't quite trust him not to try to do something stupid again, so she decided to dare a little light prodding:
"Of course," she mused quietly, pretending to be paying more attention to her tea than to him, "That won't stop you from missing them now."
"No…" he sighed absently. "It doesn't."
Samina threw a quick glance up at his face when he spoke, and was pleased to see that the sad frown had returned to it. So that's all it is, then. Good.
"That's good," she said softly, and he looked back at her with mild surprise. She gave him an honest smile and a small shrug. "Grieving our losses is just another part of being human. If we wouldn't do it, we'd go crazy."
The corners of his mouth twitched before twisting into a lopsided, but more sincere smile than before, and he nodded in agreement. Samina gave him a smile in return, then leaned back and closed her eyes, meaning to steal a nap as well as give Judeau the space that he wanted to think. She heard him quietly mutter to himself, the lopsided smile still audible in his voice:
"…How ironic."
She opened one eye and peered curiously at him. He wasn't looking at her anymore, but seemed to have noticed her unspoken question anyway. He gave a small shake of his head.
"Those are supposed to be my lines. I was always the guy who had it all together… who said all the encouraging words. Never thought I'd have to hear them from anyone else."
Samina pondered what kind of reply he might want for that – or if it even warranted a reply – for a while, then she shrugged and took a quick sip from her tea.
"I don't think," she carefully muttered into the cup, "That anyone can go through life without having to hear words like that from someone, at some point… but I can shut up if it makes you uncomfortable."
He gave her a smile and a small shrug, and then a gentle shake of his head. There was no need to say anything else, so Samina just gave him a simple nod and leaned back again, closing her eyes once more.
Though she couldn't help but smile when she heard a very quietly murmured "Thanks."
A few seconds later, though, the outside door swung open and a most horrible stench swept into the small room, making napping immediately and absolutely impossible.
~
"Scoot, manlings!" Taskkarr's mighty voice bellowed, and both humans' heads snapped around to the sound of it. The demon-hunter was glowing, as if he had been oiled up from head to toe, and he was completely naked save for a towel wrapped around his wide waist – for which Judeau was thankful. The dwarf's muscles were every bit as oversized as they had appeared underneath all the armour, yet also padded with a healthy layer of body fat – but what really caught Judeau's stunned attention was the huge, incredible tattoo that adorned the dwarf's tough-looking, scarred and currently glossy skin.
Looking for all the world like one single design, it twisted out in multicoloured patterns and runes all over the dwarf's chest, stomach and upper arms, disappearing down behind the covering cloth. Judeau thought he could even see a hint of the design reaching down onto Taskkarr's immense thighs, and he did not doubt for a second that it covered the dwarf's back, too. It almost seemed to move along with the rippling muscles as Taskkarr resolutely came stomping over to the fireplace, but Judeau's study of the fascinating design was cut short when the horrible stench finally made its way from his nostrils to register in his brain.
"Holy fuuh…!"
Both he and Samina dived aside, keeping their noses firmly covered and muttering curses under their breaths. Unperturbed, Taskkarr plopped down in the exact spot where Judeau had been sitting, and heaved a deep sigh of relief. Samina fumbled with the window-catch, and soon had it opened with a little help from Judeau. It didn't do much for the atmosphere in the cabin, but the stench was just a little bit more bearable right next to the window.
Before either human had had a chance to recuperate, the next smelly dwarf entered the room. Thirgynn looked just the same as Taskkarr, except perhaps a little, little less buff and without the tattoo. The miracle-worker tugged his makeshift loincloth tighter around himself when he noticed the two humans, and hesitated for a moment.
"Um… I feel the need to apologise for the way we… smell… currently," he said with the tiniest apologetic bow, "But it is unfortunately necessary for us to stay out of the rain while the wee- uh, herbal oil… takes effect."
Judeau felt his eyes begin to water and suppressed the urge to cough. "Okay. I understand." He looked over at Samina. "Maybe we should wait outside, then?"
She barely had a chance to nod before Thirgynn interrupted:
"That would not be advisable. The smell is as bad out there, and it's not going to get better when Mr. Shammael pours the oil out."
Samina swore quietly and Judeau inwardly agreed. As he tried to come up with something that would, if possible, distract him from the awful stench, he watched Thirgynn walk up to Taskkarr with something unusually official in his gait.
As the miracle-worker came up beside the demon hunter he calmly sat down, facing the other dwarf and bowed his head as if in submission. Taskkarr glanced over at Thirgynn with a surprised but not entirely unknowing frown, as the miracle-worker calmly intoned something in dwarfish. It almost sounded like a prayer or a song. Intrigued and not a little confused, Judeau studied Taskkarr's reaction.
The demon hunter frowned as if in annoyance and crossed his arms very stubbornly over his massive chest, turning away from the kneeling dwarf to stare into the hearth.
"No," He grunted sourly. "I don't want to."
Thirgynn looked up, blinking in surprise. "…What?"
Taskkarr remained completely still, staring stoically into the fire and radiating an aura of annoyed discomfort. Thirgynn leaned forwards a little, frowning in confusion.
"But… Sir Taskkarr… Your honour is restored – you are once again the Zur'Vorh, and I am your appointed Hakkr. You must reinstate me."
Taskkarr's arms tightened a little further around his bulk.
"No, I don't. I released you from your servitude, and I don't have to take you back."
In obvious bewilderment, Thirgynn rubbed a big hand over his glossy scalp. "But, Sir… The ancient traditions… I was appointed to you by the dwarf King himself, do you really mean to-"
"So what if I do?" Taskkarr grouchily interrupted. "I have no need, want nor use for a servant – even less for a bodyguard!" Then his voice dropped to an almost embarrassed, hushed mutter:
"The tradition is old and… in this case… unnecessary. I'd rather work with you as a teammate. You're a miracle-worker – it feels… weird… to have you as a Hakkr. In all other matters, you are my equal – if not more. I don't like it."
Thirgynn paused, raising a thoughtful eyebrow at the stubbornly unmoving Taskkarr. Then his voice dropped as well, to a calm and very reasonable tone:
"Since I am not yet reinstated properly, I will disregard that thoughtless comment. I will only say this: The traditions are there for a reason, Sir Taskkarr. They are the very foundation on which the dwarven kingdom is built. If we were to break or disregard one tradition, out of personal convenience, where would it stop? And I do not quite agree that you don't need a bodyguard, Sir – the life of a demon bane is always hanging in the balance. You have had much use of me, my skills and my advice."
Then he leaned even further in towards Taskkarr, his frown slowly turning darker.
"I am a very good Hakkr," he growled quietly. "I do my duties and I do them well. If you want to release me from your service, then you must find a better reason than the fact that you just aren't used to having servants." He leaned back again, still fixing Taskkarr with a hard gaze. "And if you do have a better reason, tell me about it right now so that I can change it – if I can't perform my Hakkr duties the way I am supposed to, it will be a permanent stain on the honour of my entire clan, not to mention myself. As well you know."
The demon hunter huffed and set his jaw.
"It doesn't say anywhere that I have to have a good reason to release you," he muttered, still not meeting the other dwarf's eyes. "If I don't complain, you won't lose any honour. And you don't have to be my Hakkr to come with me, help me out or make me listen to your advice. You did that all this time during the curse – I see no reason why it would have to change now."
The miracle-worker crossed his arms around his own broad chest and turned his frown into an annoyed scowl.
"Now you're just being argumentative, Sir, and I'm not amused. It has to change because you are no longer a nameless, beardless demon bane without honour; you are the Zur'Vohr, and I am no longer a nameless, beardless miracle-worker in the same desperate situation; I am your Hakkr, appointed by the dwarf King and the Council of Miracles. You know this – now stop arguing and reinstate me!"
Taskkarr finally glanced over at Thirgynn, and a slightly harder edge crept into his quiet mutter:
"Is that really what you want, Thirgynn? Do you really want to be a servant – tied to me, the son of a common murvelbeast-breeder – for the rest of your life? Do you think that's a proper position for the favoured apprentice of Yorrakk Gurnis the Thunderer?"
Thirgynn matched his hard-edged voice and raised him a glare.
"You know as well as I do, Sir Taskkarr, that it does not matter what a dwarf has been, as long as you know what he is now. You may have been born as the son of a murvel-breeder, but you have been elevated since! With title comes privilege, and with privilege comes responsibility – if you can't handle the responsibility…"
"That's not what I said!" Taskkarr interrupted with an enraged roar.
A very tense silence followed his outburst, and neither dwarf averted their stubborn glare from the other's. After a few moments, the demon hunter continued in a quiet, low-pitched growl:
"That's not what I was saying, and you know it."
A couple of the angry lines in Thirgynn's face smoothed out and though he didn't for an instant break eye-contact with Taskkarr, his voice returned right back to its usual calm reasonability.
"No, you're right. My last comment was out of line, and I apologise for it."
Taskkarr also seemed to calm down along with Thirgynn. He was still scowling, but there was no longer any real menace in it, and his posture slouched very slightly. He said nothing, and Thirgynn continued with a hint of a smile on his face:
"Sir Taskkarr, really, this position does not humiliate me. Not in any way – not to the clans, nor to myself. I am honestly and sincerely proud to have been appointed, so… please, Sir… reinstate me. I have my honour back, let me have my pride as well."
It was Taskkarr who finally averted his eyes, and he did it with a deep, defeated sigh.
"Well, technically," he said, with not much real hope in his weary voice, "Our beards haven't grown out yet…"
"Taskkarr…" the warning was obvious in the miracle-worker's voice, and his eyebrows furrowed dangerously. "Technically, it's only a matter of time. Stop stalling."
The demon hunter sighed again.
"All right, all right, fine…" he huffed. Then he rose to his feet, smoothed out the front of his towel and pulled himself up in his full, not-very-grand, but surprisingly authoritative length, balled his right hand into a fist and pounded it twice against his own heart. Then he bowed his head to Thirgynn, who stood and did the same. Taskkarr then straightened up again and, holding his hand over the Miracle-worker's bent head, recited what sounded like the second half of the song/prayer thing that Thirgynn had begun earlier.
When the recitation was over, both dwarves struck their right fist over their hearts.
Then the whole thing seemed to be played out. Thirgynn flopped down, rather unceremoniously, in front of the fireplace, and Taskkarr looked over at the two humans with a dark scowl.
"You're honoured, manling," he grunted at Judeau. "Not many humans get to see a dwarven ritual up close, like that."
Judeau was on the verge of asking just what this ordeal had been about, but decided not to – Taskkarr wasn't looking very talkative. But he didn't have to worry about saying anything, because he merely had time to give Taskkarr a small nod before Samina suddenly snapped her fingers and spoke up excitedly:
"Hey, I just thought of something. Say, Taskkarr, Judeau and I have been talking about what to do about his curse-"
"Huh," the demon hunter interrupted, seeming pleased to change the subject. "Did you come up with any ideas?"
"Well, yeah… Beseeching the Gods, starting with the Eight – but now I'm thinking that maybe it won't be necessary after all-"
"Really?" Taskkarr resumed his seat before the fire. "What else, then?"
"Well, if you'd let me finish speaking, I'd have told you already!"
Taskkarr glared back at the bounty hunter over his shoulder. "So say it then!"
Samina made a small huff of exasperation, but continued patiently:
"I'm thinking: Wouldn't it be enough to just give him a demon bane's tattoo, like yours? Wouldn't that just negate the curse?"
Taskkarr frowned deeply and turned around to face her. Samina quickly continued:
"Come on, it wouldn't be the first time a human got a dwarf tattoo – You sell them to other demon hunters all the time…"
Studying the large, intricate design, Judeau wasn't at all sure that he really wanted one. "Ow…?"
"That's not the issue," Thirgynn interrupted, also turning around and wearing his standard reasonable scholar-face. "The problem is that the demon bane's tattoo doesn't quite work the right way. It only keeps the demons from affecting him with their psychic abilities, it wouldn't stop the rune from attracting them to him or driving them into a frenzy of hunger. Also, it would have no effect whatsoever on the undead, I'm afraid."
"Drat." Samina hung her head and sheepishly glanced up at Judeau. "Sorry, I thought I had a quick solution for you, there."
Judeau couldn't quite keep the relief out of his voice as he smiled at her. "No problem. We still have a good plan to go by."
"Yes," Thirgynn agreed with an approving smile, "Just the course of action that I was going to suggest, myself."
A gust of cool air brought a new cloud of eye-watering stench into the small cabin, along with the glistening shape of Steelwing.
"And that is what?" the elf asked, calmly striding over to stand next to the fireplace.
Judeau felt a twinge of envy as he watched the tall, muscular man walk across the room – nobody should have the right to look that good, wearing only a towel. Steelwing was like some kind of bizarre but perfect hybrid of what Griffith and Gatts had been, managing to look strong without seeming bulky, agile without seeming lithe. Add to that a subtle but very even tan, and a coat of oil…
Pff… Judeau thought, leaning back against the wall with a self-conscious grin. At least I don't reek like seven different kinds of rot.
Then he realised that no one had answered Steelwing's question yet. Taskkarr seemed to be ignoring the elf, as he tended to do whenever he felt irritable, and Thirgynn was looking over at Samina with keen interest, as though he hadn't heard the question at all.
Judeau glanced over at the woman next to him, and almost had to bite his own tongue to keep himself from laughing.
She was blushing. And staring. And, every now and then, blinking very slowly. It was quite an unexpected sight.
Judeau composed himself with a small cough and turned back to Steelwing.
"We figured we'd try talking to the Gods, about removing my curse," he said, still grinning, "Since that seemed to help you guys and all. Right, Samina?"
"Er, yes," she agreed, snapping out of her daze. She quickly cleared her throat. "Starting with the Eight. Hrm. What do you think?"
Steelwing shrugged indifferently, not looking away from the dancing flames in the hearth. "Master Thirgynn is the authority on magic," he said, "If the master miracle-worker thinks it is a good idea, then it is."
"Great!" Samina's cheerfulness was still a little bit strained. "Then that's what we'll do!"
"After we've done something else."
All eyes in the room turned to Taskkarr. The demon-hunter did not turn to face them, but the tone of his voice did not allow for any argument:
"First, we must visit my home. Mine and Thirgynn's families must see that we are restored. Then we can do whatever you want."
A short, contemplative silence followed the dwarf's words, then Judeau tentatively spoke up.
"But… Taskkarr… do you really want to bring me to your home? With the Brand and without Shammael's presence…"
Taskkarr huffed and turned around to meet Judeau's eyes, a hint of amusement in his features.
"Hah, believe you me, manling, short of in the company of a Healer, there is nowhere safer for you to be than in a dwarf hold. We have powerful runes of our own, you know."
Judeau smiled back and shrugged. "All right, I trust you know what you're doing, then."
Then he clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back against the wall.
"Looks like you guys get to use me as demon-bait for while, after all," he jokingly mused.
"That's just a boon," Taskkarr grunted with a grin, then he pointed with his thumb over at the silent elf. "Though I'm sure Mr deep-elf Crusader is just about jumping up and down with joy…"
Steelwing just gave a quiet huff.
"Demons are evil," he stated calmly. "Therefore they must be vanquished. But curses are evil, too. I am not eager to use evil as a mean to destroy evil – to purposely do that would make me evil as well."
Taskkarr gave Judeau a very human, would-you-listen-to-that kind of look.
"Okay," he rumbled, almost rolling his eyes. "My mistake."
Judeau looked from Taskkarr to Steelwing and cocked his head to the side.
"Really Steelwing? Then what was all that talk about my curse being a blessing to you? And choosing battlefields and all that?"
The elf finally looked over at him with one eyebrow raised in possible annoyance.
"That I am not eager to use one evil to destroy another does not mean that I will not do it," he explained patiently. "But I will try to destroy the evil that helps me, as well. Really, the rules of the Crusader are simple enough on this point: Destroy all evil. In other words, should I side with evil for any other purpose than to destroy it as soon as opportunity presents itself, the rules would have me destroy myself." He paused for a moment, gazing thoughtfully into the fire before giving a very slight shrug.
"And that has happened before, to other Crusaders before me. It is one way to fulfil one's purpose."
Judeau blinked, not really sure that he comprehended everything that the Crusader had said, just now. He forcefully suppressed an urge to ask 'So just what is that, then?' because it felt as though that was something he had already been told.
But he can't mean… no, I don't think I get it.
"Uh… so…" The silence in the cabin suddenly seemed a little awkward. Judeau found himself trying to lighten up the mood. "You're saying you're just waiting for a chance to kill me off?"
"Certainly not," the elf sighed dispassionately, keeping his grey eyes on the fire. "Your curse is evil but you, yourself, are innocent." Then he sent Judeau a very sharp look that for an instant seemed perfectly serious. "Are you not?"
Taken aback for only a moment, Judeau laughed nervously – and found that he really didn't have to fake it.
"Oh yes," he eagerly reassured the stern Crusader, rubbing his hands together in a consciously exaggerated gesture of nervousness/possible guilt. "All innocent over here, heh heh… Just a victim of circumstance, yes sir. Nothing to see here, move along, move along…"
Samina chuckled and Thirgynn smiled in amusement, but Steelwing kept his eyes on Judeau's for a little while longer before giving him a slow, not-too-convinced nod.
But Judeau was absolutely certain that he saw the corners of Steelwing's mouth twitch upwards for a brief instant – not so much a smile as a small facial gesture of acknowledged amusement – as the elf turned back to the fire. And the mood had lifted once again.
Judeau put his hands back behind his head and stretched a little, ignoring the stench with a small, smug smile of accomplishment.
-*--*-
Reviewer Responses: (Gasp! I've passed the one hundred mark! Woo! Thank you all! Luv ya to pieces!)
Lizalou42: Well, honestly, I haven't really revealed the "Phoenix" part yet, but it'll come. You're very welcome to re-read anyway! ;) And thank you very much for your nice, long review. It made me grin really widely. *bows*
Merina: No throttling the Judeau-Muse. How would I be able to write if you did? ^_^ Thank you!
Drachen: *bows* Ah, Drachen-sama. It is good to know you're still reading on. About what you wrote in my art guestbook... there was a bug, and I'd really like to know what you meant to say. Mind telling me again?
Azrael: Another well-worded review that made me all warm and fuzzy inside. Thank you, and please keep enjoying!
Kara-sama: Certainly. I do want to encourage fellow Judeau-fans: His fandom needs more creative people. Write on! (Pun intended. ^_^)
Gorgonzola: How's life, Master Cheeselord? I know you liked this chapter, because it had a lot of Taskkarr in it, so I'm not gonna ask if you did. ;)
DarkFusion: I'll tell you what I've told Lizalou - I haven't gotten to the "Phoenix" part yet. And do you really want me to give away the story beforehand? Thanks for reviewing!
Portia: Thank you! I hope you stick around, 'cause this is going to be a looong ride...
Lauralana: ^_^ Thanks for making me laugh! Of course I'm gonna finish this, haven't I said so already? Don'cha worry, I ain't goin' nowhere.
Decealon: Thank you! Update presented!
Smack54: Yep, that's on purpose. ^_^ So glad you appreciate it!
iunno: Thank you very much!
fuzipenguin: *purrs* Awww, you made me feel all warm and fuzzy! It's always a pleasure to attract new pawns- I mean, readers. Eh-heh... I hope you find the rest as entertaining!
Peer: Thank you so much, It's very nice to hear my readers' reactions. I appreciate it muchly!
iunno1: Harr harr, welcome to the fold! ...Er, I mean, I'm so glad you like what you're reading! I hope I can keep entertaining you!
Now you've read, please review! The plotbunnies can't live on warm fuzzies alone!