(3) The River Answers
Once they had passed beyond the sight of the humans, Tobias & the Lady quickly sped forward through the forest, stopping at the top of a hill to look down into the Waldheri valley. The others were just starting to appear in front of their homes, each built right into the hills. Tobias followed the Lady down until they were almost in front of his own home.
"What happened to you?" One of the Waldheri women asked him.
"I got lost," Tobias said in a low voice. "I ended up with ..." His voice trailed off. How could he have let that happen, getting caught by a human?
"You found him!" An old man came up to them. "Where was he?"
"That human family they are helping found him first," the Lady said, making the old man groan with disapproval. "They do not understand what happened. I told them he faints some times. They accepted that."
"They are getting way too close to the truth, my Lady!" The old man declared.
"There is not much to be done," was her reply. "They still do not understand what is really going on & so long as it remains so, we can do nothing to them."
"They had one of our wolves in their home right after his shift completed," the old man said. "We were fortunate, this time." He glanced at Tobias. "Why weren't you where you usually go for your shifts?"
"It is ... destroyed."
"Why?"
Tobias sighed heavily. "I had to have the cave filled to prevent the humans from returning to it. I am trying to pick a new place, but my wolf needs time to adapt."
"Yes & during that time, we all could be exposed," the old man pointed out.
"Johaiñe," the Lady shushed him. She petted Tobias' head, earning a low whimper of delight, before stepping aside to let him enter his home under the hill. Once the door closed, she turned to the old man. "We are not like Míka or the others who follow him. We need to keep a better watch over these wolves."
"We need to stop Míka," said Johaiñe, putting one hand over his strange dull reddish gold rope coiled & hung by his left hip. "He dares to come back here after we threw him out several centuries ago."
"We will," the Lady said. "First, we have to find him or one of his friends."
They walked together towards the far side of the valley. "Do you think ... he ... is among them?" Johaiñe asked as they past through a grove of birch trees.
She shook her head. "The disappearance of our daughter drove him away. I had once thought I would be with him for the rest of my life, but I have not seen him in many an age."
Mycroft was the first to enter the house after the woman & Tobias were gone. He sat back in a chair next to the window while everyone else filed in. "So ... they are sick, with something," he said once the others had settled into the main room.
"She said it would have no effect on us," Sherlock said.
Mycroft looked at him. "Do you believe her?"
"We have been with them many times," Sherlock replied. "But we are fine."
"Maybe it has something to do with the honey," Sherrinford put in. "Perhaps it keeps this illness they have in control."
Mycroft picked Ishtar out of the basket & set her on his lap. He played with her hair for a moment before saying, "That might be possible. How much do we even know about honey other than the fact that it is a sweet edible?"
"Apart from this secret illness they have," Siger began. "They do seem like decent people."
"They should have told us," Mycroft said. "We have a child to watch out for." He glanced at Elizabet who had sighed loud enough for him to hear. His brow twitched & he cocked his head a little, looking at her. "Again?"
"I think so," Elizabet said.
Mycroft shot a look at Sherlock, part glare, part congrats. Once again, Sherlock had proven better than the rest. Maybe it was about time Mycroft found a woman, after all. "Xanthá Malliá strikes again, does he?" He pointedly ignored Sherlock's immature eye roll.
As usual, everyone crowded around the pair, excited over the new addition. It was only a matter of time before one of their parents mentioned how mature Sherlock supposedly was & compared him to the rest of them, as if he was so aggravatingly special. Sherlock had always been the favoured child growing up apart from Eurus; although, she was a girl which made things different, perhaps. If Sherlock wasn't getting all the treats & fawning from his parents, then Eurus would be the usual next pick. But out of the boys, Sherlock was always held in high esteem by their parents. Now he had 'proven' himself again, it seemed.
Not that Mycroft didn't like Ishtar. On the contrary, he was often trying to take Ishtar whenever Sherlock & Elizabet needed a break. Or a moment, if Sherlock knew what those moments were. Like everyone else, he adored the child & sort of felt that perhaps the time was nearing when he should try this whole parent thing full time. But two males couldn't do that & despite all the talk, Mycroft was rarely with anyone, unlike Sherrinford. In fact, the only thing he had in common with Sherrinford at the moment was the fact that neither had known women, yet. But Mycroft had always felt a pull in both directions & knew it was only a matter of time before he would switch. Besides, it would be nice to have his own little girl some day. Maybe.
The problem with having a female partner was the fact that it could end up being for life, especially if offspring were involved. Mycroft knew that once he made the switch public, it was highly unlikely he could go back even if he wanted to & he wasn't quite ready to give up the touch of another man just yet. Was it even possible to find someone who would be fine with sharing him out to another now & then? He twitched his brow, annoyed at himself as he realized he was just as confused about love & sex as Sherlock was, just in a different way. He got up & took Ishtar outside to play in the grass.
The Waldheri returned the next day; though, they seemed somewhat timid. The woman Mycroft had encountered a few times now was with them. As he watched the Waldheri interact with her, Mycroft had the distinct impression that she was not one of them, in a sense that she did not behave the same way. She mostly was there to watch over them, more like a mother with her children. But it was impossible for her to be their actual mother, wasn't it?
He found her in the late afternoon, sitting on a fallen log by a small creek running behind the place. Mycroft glanced around until he spotted a single white wildflower, a day's eye*, growing in the grass. He picked it up & went to her. She glanced at his proffered hand as he held it out to her. "You mentioned you like white," Mycroft said.
"I do," she replied, taking the small white flower.
Mycroft looked her over while she inspected the flower. He still considered her to be much older than he was. Perhaps she was a mother to at least some of the Waldheri, but he felt as if he was missing something. "How is your father?" He tried, hoping to find some shred of information that his eyes could not see.
"My father?" She looked up at him in surprise.
"You were with him when we had tried to hunt that wolf," Mycroft said.
She blinked long & slow at him, like an owl. "Johaiñe is not my father," she replied. "We are just friends."
"Friends," Mycroft repeated. "If not your father, perhaps you have joined together?"
"Just friends," she insisted. "He has his own partner & grown children. I met him by accident."
Children. Mycroft thought of the Waldheri. "Is Tobias his son?"
"No," she replied. "Both parents of the Waldheri are dead. They were very old."
"How are you related to the Waldheri?"
"I'm not," she said. "I have no family."
Mycroft wasn't sure how to answer that, so he took a moment to scan over the area, checking on the Waldheri, before looking her over again. They were so good at hiding things that it had even blocked his own power of observation. Well, if he couldn't observe & deduce, Mycroft had another trick up his sleeve. He was rather good out fishing out information if he needed to. One way or the other, he was determined to find out the truth. So long as he did it discreetly. He felt that he would not get much more out of this woman & somehow understood that she was deliberately withholding her name, but another idea was forming. "I should return to the cabin," he replied & started walking back.
"Goodbye, Choráfi," she said.
Mycroft paused. Most people used his middle name, but the way she had said that name ... he shook his head & continued on his way. He went around to one of the holly trees where his horse was & untied the stallion. After checking around to make sure no one would stop him, Mycroft mounted up & headed towards the lowland country.
Mycroft spent the next few days systematically going through the usual villages, trying to find anyone who knew the woman or the old man with the weird rope. Despite finally knowing the old man's name, no one seemed to know who he was. Slightly frustrated, he turned his horse onto the main trail & started to head back to the family home out in the wilds. He let the horse pick its path & pace while he tried to think of some other way to locate the old man & did not pay attention to where his horse was going.
Glancing up, he found himself in a meadow & the horse had put its nose down to graze. The main trail was off to the left but on the right, Mycroft noticed another lesser used trail. It seemed to be a short cut between villages. He pulled the horse's head up & entered the new trail. It went on for a while with no sign of anyone. The sun began to sink. Mycroft stopped the horse for a moment. It wasn't quite dark but he wondered if it was dim enough for the dead to come out. He was in a new area & knew going back would be too long. The only way was forward & perhaps he could find a place to hole up for the night. Mycroft moved the horse onward again. Eventually, he could see a settlement appear through the trees & he had already passed two nearby houses. Perhaps it would be fine after all. The last rays were just disappearing over the hills.
As the trees gave way to the main paths, his horse suddenly flattened his ears & nickered angrily. Mycroft looked ahead to find another horse in a field, staring at them, equally as mad. His own horse tried to pick up the pace. "Oh no no no no!" Mycroft pulled the horse back, grateful for a stone wall fence preventing the two spiteful stallions from attacking each other. They could snort & spit but that was all they could do. Mycroft groaned. He suddenly recognized that horse. It was the one he had accidentally slammed into just over a year ago & like their horses, Mycroft found he didn't like the other man much, either. He had not seen the blond man since & hoped to avoid him.
"What do you want?" A man's voice asked from behind.
"Just passing th ... through," Mycroft looked back to see that man. They glared at each other.
"Is something the matter?" A young woman, who was appeared to be the same age Eurus was, had come out to join the man. She glanced at Mycroft. "Ohh, where did you find him?"
"He found us, my precious."
The woman approached Mycroft's horse. "This place doesn't get many visitors," she began, eyeing Mycroft up & down as if she wanted to devour him. "What brings you here?" She purred.
Mycroft wasn't sure who was making him more uncomfortable; the man he didn't like or this strange woman. The way she moved towards him, almost lustful & her eyes: they seemed dark brown but Mycroft could not deny the fact that they also seemed slightly red & not puffy red from allergies or crying. The actual eye colour where the brown was supposed to be seemed to have a slight red in them & it also seemed to be taking over the brown. It had to be a trick of the light in the dimness of dying day. He moved his horse sideways a few steps to keep away from her. "I'm just passing by to get home. Looking for a friend of mine, in fact. Can't seem to find Johaiñe any where." He tightened his grip on the reins as if getting ready to go from zero to sixty in three point five. Something told him to not stay the night here, despite the encroaching darkness.
That name though, caused the man as well as the woman with him, who was most likely his partner, to gasp & stare at him. "Johaiñe?" The man moved to stand next to her. "You know him? He's back?"
"Yes & yes," Mycroft lied. Of all people to know something! Why did it have to be this person?
The man shared a look with the woman. "Thank you for that information, Adriános. You may pass." He stepped back & pulled her away.
Mycroft felt that he had somehow royally just screwed everything up, but how, he could not even begin to fathom until much later, when it was too late. For the moment, merely speaking that name Johaiñe had just saved his own life. Mycroft was sure of that. He was also sure of the fact that this man had remembered his name & that did not bode well for him. He kicked his horse hard & galloped out of there.
"I wanted to have him, Father," the woman said, longer teeth slightly extending, giving her a somewhat cat-like appearance.
"You will," said her father. "He deserves one pass for telling us Johaiñe is back. I highly doubt Adriános knows what is going on, however." He put an arm around her & steered her back to the house. "Next time we meet him, you can do whatever you want with him." He did not plan on letting Mycroft go again if there was ever another chance. In time, hindsight would show this moment as a point of weakness for if he had let his daughter feast on the man now, he would not have had any problems later.
Mycroft continued at a fast gallop through the wild lands. He went down & around one village & over several hills, putting as much distance between him & that man with the strange woman as he could. He had never been this far off course before & when he finally slowed his horse into a walk, Mycroft realized he had no clue where he was. It was too dark to travel safely now & he quickly looked around for a place to hide in for the night.
There were two large boulders in among the trees that were leaning against each other, forming a sort of A-frame. The back was blocked by a massive tree trunk. Mycroft moved the horse in through the front. It barely fit. He attached the end of the lead line to a branch just outside, then crawled through the horse's legs so that he was trapped between the tree at one end & the horse at the other, with the two boulders on either side. He had brought in a few branches as well & began working on making points at one end. Even though he kept himself closed in by the two boulders, the tree & the animal, Mycroft dared not sleep. He was alone & would have to keep watch all night.
Putting two new stakes aside, Mycroft ran both hands through his long hair. He thought over what he had just seen. That woman with the strange eyes. He put a hand on the horse's leg nearest him. "I think ... I ... " He didn't want to voice it. That would make it a bit too real, but he was sure that she was the vrykólakas! But that blond man with her. Could he be another one? Mycroft thought about the first time he had encountered him. In the forest. It was late in the day. Perhaps the shadows kept the man from being destroyed. Mycroft concentrated hard on that incident. Was that man ever in any ray of sun streaming into the forest? If that man was also a vrykólakas, perhaps he could wait out the brightest parts of the day in a place like this, under boulders. Or maybe that man had become the woman's latest victim. He had called her 'my precious' which could mean anything. Perhaps he was human at the time Mycroft first met him, but was now undead because of her. So many probabilities. It was enough to keep him up for a while, but it also kept him distracted & focused on what he was trying to figure out more than on the opening the horse was currently partially blocking.
When morning came, Mycroft missed it, having finally fallen asleep in the wee hours of dawn. The place he was in also remained rather dim & so it was quite late in the day when he finally emerged. He got up onto the horse. Looking at far off landmarks, he supposed he had made a wide arc around the place he was familiar with. He turned the horse slightly around onto another trail which started to lead back towards home but in a long detour. The horse soon went up another hill, then suddenly cantered downwards & Mycroft found himself once more in the Waldheri valley but from a completely different angle.
The horse gathered speed on his way down & suddenly stood up on his hind hooves as someone had jumped out in front of him. "Whoa now! Easy!" The stranger reached for the reins as the horse stomped down on all fours again. "What's gotten into you?" He snapped at Mycroft.
Staring at his horse's ears, Mycroft silently told himself to stop racing horses into condensed areas, already. "Sorry. Got carried away on the hill." He blinked at the old man & suddenly realized who he was.
"Hunting for wolves, again?" Johaiñe asked rather tersely.
Mycroft slipped off his horse's back. "No, I was looking for you, actually."
"Why?"
Mycroft patted the horse's neck until it calmed down. He turned & began doing a scan over this old man. Johaiñe moved a hand to the coil of odd rope he always carried. "Where do you come from?" Mycroft asked, noting the grip on the rope before flicking his eyes up to the old man's face.
"From a distant land far below this one," Johaiñe replied.
"That explains it," Mycroft said more to himself. Johaiñe raised a brow, expecting to be told this fantastic explanation. "I've been asking around in the villages, looking for you. But no one knows about you. Except one person. He said that you are back. You say from far below this land. You are not native here & no one knows you except these Waldheri & that woman."
"I am a long time friend with ... that woman ... as you say," Johaiñe began. "She required some help & so I returned here."
"You were here once before?"
"Yes."
Mycroft waited but Johaiñe wasn't offering any more information. He looked away to see several younger Waldheri watching them from a distance. Mycroft leaned closer to the old man. "What exactly is wrong with them?"
"Nothing that concerns you."
Mycroft wanted to shake this man. "We have one child & another on the way. I'm just asking if it is safe."
"That depends on you & yours," Johaiñe said. "The Waldheri love children. It's in their nature. Treat them with respect, they will guard your children with their very lives. Treat them with an ill will & they will not be there when you need them most." It was a well known fact that wolves loved puppies & would do anything for the younger ones in their pack, but Mycroft still thought the Waldheri most likely human & could not understand exactly what he had just been told. "Who told you that I was back?"
Mycroft looked around. There was a wooden table nearby, covered with large pieces of smooth flat bark filled with markings, like runes or something like that. "I'm not sure," Mycroft moved to look at the engravings on the bark pieces. "Some man I ran into before. We do not get along & neither do our stallions. Light yellow hair. A woman with him ... she ..." She was what? How could he describe her eyes or the way she had made him feel. Defenceless. About to die. Like he was staring death in the face when he looked at her. "Are you some sort of witch doctor?" Mycroft picked up a piece of bark & tried to decipher the runes.
Johaiñe came beside him & pulled the bark from Mycroft's hand. He laid it back on the table. "You can spend your whole life trying to read that. But I am the only one who knows it. I make up languages for fun in my spare time. I have several in my garden. I am attempting to make something of them."
"A ... made up ... language?" Mycroft stared at him, wondering where this garden was. "Why?"
"For fun," Johaiñe repeated. "I'm an old man. I require something to keep myself active. So I make up languages."
"What's wrong with the real languages?" Mycroft asked.
"Boring," Johaiñe said with a slight laugh. "I speak several real languages. But this," he waved his hand over the bark pieces. "Is just for me. There is nothing in there that will help anyone. It's just an old man's imagination." He began piling the bark pieces together. "That man you met is extremely dangerous & is the reason I am here. The woman is his daughter. You have no idea what you've done, informing him of my presence here, but there is nothing to be done about it now. We have been looking for him for a while."
"Well," Mycroft began as he turned around to point somewhere. "He is over there. Right where that smoke is. Oh! A wild fire!"
"Calm yourself," Johaiñe said. "That fire is very well controlled. Míka is burning out the place you found him in & will move again. Now that he knows I am back, it will be much harder to find him." He sent a dark look at Mycroft.
"I am sorry," Mycroft said. "I did not know."
"I know that," Johaiñe sighed. "I am beginning to wonder if it is more dangerous for you to know or not know. Either way, you have ruined everything."
"What is going on?" Mycroft asked.
Johaiñe looked around the valley. "I hope you never have to find out," he looked back at Mycroft & handed over the reins. "Return to your family." Mycroft glared indignantly at him but Johaiñe shook his head. "I have met others like you. Watching everything. You learn a lot of things in that way. But you will not find what you are looking for here. I have made sure of that. You will never be able to find my garden where I keep everything I need. You need to go home." He forced the reins into Mycroft's hands & then picked up the bark pieces before going into his house & closing the door.
Mycroft blinked a few times, staring at the closed door in some surprise. He got onto his horse & trotted through the valley & over the other side. By early evening, he had returned to the hunting cabin, although it was more like a small cottage now. The Waldheri were finished & gone. He unharnessed his horse & left it on a long line attached to a tree before dropping into a chair on the back porch & thought over the past few days.
The more he investigated, the stranger things were getting. He could not get the look or the strange colour of that girl's eyes out of his mind. He also recalled the fact that Tobias & his kind seemed to be able to change their eye colour as well, but to a gold. Then there was this issue of the old man's garden. If it was found, perhaps Mycroft could figure out what was going on. But finding it could be a problem. Mycroft was still sitting out there, mulling things over, when night fell.
Sherlock came out to find him & get him to come inside before any night stalkers showed up. "Is something wrong, Mikró?"
Mycroft jumped a little in his seat, startled at the deep voice. "I don't know," he said after taking a moment to focus his eyes on his younger brother. He realized how Sherlock no longer seemed to have a high voice. It had gone way down at some point in time, but he had only just noticed it now.
"It has been dark for a while," Sherlock said. "It is not safe out here. You should come inside, for the night is dark & full of terrors."
"I suppose you're right," Mycroft sighed as he stood up.
"Where did you go?" Sherlock asked as they went inside. He closed the door & began bolting it shut.
"I went looking for answers," Mycroft said. "Now I have even more questions & no answer at all."
"When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
Mycroft stared in surprise for the second time that day. Sherlock always spoke strangely but this was beyond profound. "What?" He gaped at his little brother while Sherlock repeated himself word for word & even tone for tone. "Xanthá, I'm way too tired to figure that out tonight."
"Then sleep on it," Sherlock said. "Perhaps you will understand in the morning."
Mycroft headed for bed, rubbing his forehead hard with both hands. It was as if his brain hurt, trying to figure out what the hell Sherlock said. Why was he always so weird? While in his private room, getting changed for the night, he heard Sherrinford yell in pain, then bellow Sherlock's name in anger. Mycroft laughed under breath. There were still pine needles cropping up in Sherrinford's bed.
The next day, Mycroft decided to tell at least Sherrinford, Sherlock & their parents what he had seen. He didn't mention the fact that he had met Míka before or that his name was known to them. He was more concerned about that woman. He waited until Eurus had gone outside before describing the strange woman. "I also think the man with her, with the pale hair, might be one as well. Most likely someone she had taken." Mycroft shared a look with his father.
Siger half shook his head. "The last time you accused someone of being the vrykólaka—"
"I am more certain of her than I was of the Waldheri," Mycroft cut in. "I don't think I've ever seen her or that man in the full light. But the way she came for me. I know she wanted to do something uncouth to me. I've never felt like that about the Waldheri. They are strange but it was nothing as compared to her. I'm telling you now, that woman is dangerous! Vrykólakas or not, I suggest we keep a watch for her & be careful."
Siger looked his son over. It was obvious to all that something had scared Mycroft & he wasn't one to scare easily. "Well, there is no harm in being careful," Siger began. "I will go out with a few others & have a look for her. If she is of the vrykólakas, it might be hard to find anything in this season, though." Mycroft visibly relaxed at that. It was not likely a good time to find much, but at least it was a start.
Perhaps it was a good thing that there was still half of summer left. Everyone had returned to their own homes in the lowlands once more, which separated Sherrinford & Sherlock from each other & Sherrinford from his prickly bed in the cottage. Sherrinford & Sherlock had squabbled for almost three months over the stupid pine needles, with Sherlock constantly maintaining it wasn't him who did it while laughing about it. Sherrinford was getting more angry at that by now than the pine needles still stuck in the bed.
One day, when everyone had shown up in Wycoller, Elizabet finally got tired of the boys' whining & finally said, "It wasn't him, Theós. It was me."
"You?" Sherrinford looked at her. "Why?"
"To prove my point," she said. "You're constantly mean to him for no reason. It wasn't even his fault this time. But you & Mikró are constantly after him, especially when your parents take his side, which is all the time."
Sherrinford flicked his eyes to Sherlock who was grinning at him. "You knew it was her the whole time, didn't you?"
"Of course, I did," Sherlock replied & Elizabet doubled over, laughing.
"Why did you think it was him the whole time?" Elizabet finally managed to ask.
"I saw him sweeping those things off the porch," Sherrinford replied. "It was only natural to assume he swept them right into my room!"
Sherlock & Elizabet were both laughing once more. As Sherrinford glared at them, Sherlock said, "It is rather funny to see you're still having problems with the tree spikes, even now. There are probably a few left back there, waiting for you. Poke ... poke ... poke."
Sherrinford closed his eyes & groaned before walking away. "Shut up, Xanthá!" The pair of idiots laughing even harder was the last thing he heard before slamming the door as he marched outside. They had ganged up on him.
There was nothing he could do about it, either. The fall hunting was just around the corner & that took up everyone's time for a while. Besides that, hunting of another sort was also happening. Sherrinford & Mycroft had both joined the search for the woman with their father & a few others, but no trace could be found of her or Míka. They had came across other villages that had come under attack by the undead & most were now using fire to purify their lands. But of the fiends themselves, no one knew where they had gone.
Elizabet was also starting to show her latest pregnancy & as time went on, she seemed to be getting a little larger than the first time when she had been pregnant with Ishtar. This time around, she was due in late winter.
When her time came, the men were once more tossed out while the women excitedly crowded around her. As it was cold, everyone had to find a place to stay inside nearby buildings while waiting for the new arrival. Sherlock ended up in one of the barns with Enillydd Trefor, who had brought a small sack of the opium tincture with him. It didn't take long before both of them were lying back in the loft, dazed.
"Been a while since we did this," Trefor murmured.
"We used to do this every day, almost," Sherlock said.
"I know," Trefor said. "Your brothers would get so mad whenever they caught us!"
"We never let them join us," Sherlock sighed, finishing off another sip of the stuff. "Didn't want to let them spoil our fun."
"Your mother used some on Elizabet," Trefor went on after a few moments of silence. "Why does something so common as having children seem to be so painful for them?"
Sherlock slowly sat up, his vision just a tad blurry. He knew this hurt her. He also knew giving birth was one of the most natural things in existence. "I don't know," he answered. "We're not women. It isn't our problem. They keep coming to the males to use us for this. Maybe it isn't as bad as it sounds." He heard thudding underneath & tipped over a little to peer down to the horse moving about in its stall below.
"Xanthá!" Trefor grabbed Sherlock by the shoulder & pulled him back.
"Uhh!" Sherlock groaned, lying back. "That's a lot higher than I remember."
Trefor lay beside him & both gazed at the rafters where two sleepy owls blinked back at them. "You're fortunate to have her."
"I know."
"No, you don't," Trefor said. "If you hadn't have taken her when you did, I would have gone after her by the end of that summer."
Sherlock rolled over to look at his friend. He slowly pointed a finger in Trefor's face. "You ... like ... my Woman!"
"It was you or me," Trefor replied. "I like her very much."
"For me, it was you or her, too," Sherlock slurred out.
"Really?" Trefor started laughing.
"You said it first," Sherlock dropped his hand between them.
"Did I?"
Sherlock thought long & hard for a moment. "I think you did."
"Maybe I did," Trefor said before promptly rolling over & kissing Sherlock on the mouth while sitting over his hips.
After a moment, they broke apart. Sherlock looked into Trefor's eyes. "What ... are you doing?"
"I don't know!" Trefor lay flat on his back, giggling like an idiot. When he had settled down a bit, he said, "You're a great kisser."
Sherlock rolled over & curled up, laughing hard. "So are you!" He gasped as pushed himself up to lean back against the wall, blinking hard. In a slightly more normal voice, he added, "If something happens to me, you have her."
Trefor looked at him. "Fine. I will throw you down, right now."
"Not now," Sherlock started laughing ridiculously once more & Trefor was nearly crying by now. Both were higher than eagles at the moment. "Later, now. Or is it now, later? I mean, after."
"After what?"
"After. After!" Sherlock was thinking of the new child. He at least wanted to meet the dang thing before Trefor offed him. He looked at Trefor again. "It's been longer than Ishtar's birth."
"Every baby is different," Trefor shrugged.
They both lay together again, watching the owls. "Do you remember when we were Sea Raiders?" Sherlock asked.
"We acted out," Trefor said. "Just little ones back then. Now you have two little ones. Soon."
"We should be Sea Raiders again, some day," Sherlock said.
"For real," Trefor agreed.
"But after," They said at the same time & then they passed out.
When Mycroft came looking for them, both woke up in a panic, knowing he would be mad at them if he found out. Sherlock however rolled right over the edge of the loft & with a surprised yell from him, the horse & Trefor all at once, while Mycroft clapped both hands over his face in surprise, Sherlock miraculously landed in the horse's feed of a large pile of dried grass brought in for the winter.
Mycroft scowled, his brow coming to a hawkish point above his nose as he lowered his hands. "Not again, Xanthá!" He glanced up at Trefor who was laughing once more. "You did this, didn't you? You know that stuff can kill! That's why it's used with the 'conium' to kill yourself!" He reminded them of the use of the poison hemlock mixed with opium.
"Isn't it the other way around?" Trefor gasped for air.
Mycroft shook his head, not really caring. "Come here!" He reached into the stall to haul Sherlock to his feet.
"Mhm! After, now. It's after, now." Sherlock stated. Mycroft groaned & shoved him outside, ignoring Trefor's revelation that Sherlock was some sort of great kisser & Elizabet was lucky to have him. He pushed Sherlock down & put his face into the snow, hoping the cold would revive him enough to go into the house & be presentable.
"Wake up!" Mycroft shoved more snow into Sherlock's face.
Sherlock turned in his brother's arms to face them. "Did she have the child now?"
"She actually had two of them together, two boys," Mycroft said before snapping his hand up, striking Sherlock under the chin. "Now wake up!"
Sherlock stumbled back from the blow. Two together? Both boys? That more than anything seemed to make him snap out of it. He tripped up the steps. Mycroft put a hand on him to steady him before opening the door.
"You found him?" Sherrinford asked as his two brothers finally came in. Trefor staggered in a moment later. Sherrinford rolled his eyes at the sight, knowing exactly what happened. "You're a disgrace!" He snapped at Sherlock & then glared at Trefor. "Both of you!"
"You're just jealous I have two more children & you have none," Sherlock shot back. "I wonder why that is? Oh! You can't since you prefer your own." Sherrinford reached for Sherlock but Siger intervened.
"Enough! Not around the children!" Siger ordered, holding one of the boys out to Sherlock. Sherrinford nodded once but shot a dark look at Sherlock once their father had turned away. Sherlock just smirked, rather full of himself, as he took the new child while Sherrinford continued to glare at him.
Sherlock sat next to Elizabet who was holding the other one. She put a hand on the one Sherlock was carrying. "I have named him tou Daskálou.** He was born first." She indicated a purple tie of horse hair around his left wrist.
Sherlock looked at the one she was holding. "Aléxandros," he said, naming the child.
The arrival of two boys at the same time came as a surprise for everyone. Even Ishtar seemed amazed at the fact she now had two charges under her as she sat between them, looking back & forth at each one in turn. She was just over two years old by now but still had yet to say a word. She was also seeming to develop her own language, albeit a silent one, by using her hands. Making the tips of her index fingers go around each other meant she wanted her father. No one understood why but it could be an indication of his more curly locks as compared to others. Crossing her wrists was for Trefor. Touching her left cheek was for Mycroft & her right was for Sherrinford. She was creating signs for all of them but still remained silent. Now, sitting on the floor next to her new brothers, she seemed to be eyeing them, as if planning signs for them as well. She didn't even blink while staring at each one.
Sherlock & Elizabet had decided to take Ishtar to the witch doctor when the weather was warm again; though, nothing else seemed to be the matter with the girl, apart from not talking. In the meantime, Sherlock had suddenly decided to join others in the hunt for Mycroft's dread woman & any of the undead along the way. He had something more to protect now that the boys were here & was keen to find the night monsters to help put an end to them.
As the warmer weather began to return, there was another thing Sherlock had to do. The colt was a strong-willed yearling & needed a little training before giving him to Eurus. He had now shed his baby fur to reveal an unusual glossy black coat underneath. Just a little brushing would make him gleam. Eurus could hardly believe he would be all hers soon. There was no other horse in the land that they knew of who matched him.
Out of all the treats her family had ever given her, this one was the cherry on top & it had come for her favourite brother, Sherlock. He had always given her the best of anything, never once offered to his brothers. It often made them jealous of both their younger siblings but neither Sherlock or Eurus cared. Out of the four them, the two younger ones had always been close, so much so that it was nearly incestuous. Mycroft, in particular, was rather sore about not getting the black stallion. After all, it was his own stallion that had produced this prize but Sherlock had been smart enough to pick a mare when everyone else had stallions & if ever a prized foal was born, it would be under Sherlock's roof & his own to do with as he pleased. Mycroft could do nothing but pout as Sherlock led the great horse away & handed the rope to Eurus.
She named him Nýchta*** for night, & her first ride on him was when she joined Sherlock when he took Ishtar to the witch doctor. Elizabet had to stay home since the boys needed her milk, unlike Ishtar who had recently been weaned off, so Eurus went instead. She would ride ahead as a guard for she was an excellent huntress & as skilled with the bow as her father was. The three of them found themselves on their way up into unfamiliar territory, heading partly towards the rising sun & partly to the side in a north-eastern direction. Sherlock also brought a sealed container, made of a hollowed out gourd, filled with opium as the barter for services to examine Ishtar.
When they arrived in the small secluded village & inquired as to where the doctor was, someone took hold of Nýchta's bridle & led him through the village to a small grassy area by a stream. Sherlock pulled his own mare up beside her grown colt, holding Ishtar in one hand as he watched while the one who brought them here went to a man sitting at a wooden table, polishing a sword. After a moment, the man got up & allowed himself to be led over to the two waiting horses. Sherlock quickly scanned him. White hair to shoulders. Older but not so old. White spots in his eyes. Blind. Grey robe, wizard-like. Sword he was sharpening lay on the table he had been sitting at had a wide blade, flat on either side but slightly rounded center as if it had been built around a rod & it had a gold hilt.
The older man stood by Sherlock's horse & seemed to look up at a point near the mare's neck where Sherlock's hand was holding the reins. "The child who does not speak," the man said before Sherlock could even react. "I have encountered this many times before," he went on. "Before I begin, I must warn you that despite what you want, it may not be what she needs. Whatever the result, it is for her only, not for you."
"I understand," Sherlock replied, passing down the sealed gourd. "May this herb help you."
"Ah, one of my favourites," said the wizard as he took it & after quickly tasting it, he set it aside, then held up both hands. "Let me see her."
See? He was blind! Sherlock slowly lowered Ishtar down. Once the man had grabbed her, Sherlock was able to get off the horse. He followed the older man & his daughter towards a place in the grass where Ishtar was set down in the center of a ring of flowers. The doctor then began to run his hands over her body from head to toe while she played with a small purple rock, an amethyst, he had given her. He literally was over her body, passing his hands around but without touching her.
The doctor stood up & stepped away from Ishtar who was currently holding up the purple stone with both hands to inspect it. "She is a very vibrant girl," he said to Sherlock. He pulled out a very small knife. "May I ask to take a drop of her red river?" Sherlock's eyes went wide at the realization of what was being proposed. "Have no fear. It is but a scratch & will not harm her. Oh!" His head turned slightly to Ishtar & Sherlock looked at his daughter. She had dropped the stone & now looking at her finger which was slightly bleeding. She had cut herself on a point of the crystal, but though she had made no sound & the man could not possibly see it happen, he still had somehow known. "That is all I need," he said as he picked up a leaf & the head of a leontodon**** which was a thick yellow flower that would turn into grey balls of seed stars in the end of summer. He caught a drop of Ishtar's blood on the leaf, then pressed the flower to the tiny prick, letting its milky substance drip over her injury & within a moment, it had stopped bleeding.
The blood stained leaf was dropped into a pot over the fire along with a few other things, including suddenly, a drop of blood from Sherlock's finger as well. Sherlock went back to Ishtar, nursing a pricked finger, to keep an eye on her so she wouldn't wander off into the stream while Eurus watched over the proceedings. Ishtar had gone back to playing with the purple crystal & even shot her father a dark glare when he tried to take it from her to prevent her from cutting herself again. He got his fingers on it for a moment before yanking his hand away. Ishtar had bitten his wrist.
"That hurt!" Sherlock glared at his daughter. "You bit me! Why?" Ishtar's answer was holding the stupid aggravating purple rock away, making it clear she wanted to keep it. "Your mother can bite me whenever she likes. But you aren't allowed!" Sherlock snarled as Eurus started snickering nearby.
"Come, Ishtar," Sherlock tried to reach for the rock once more, ignoring Eurus & being careful to not get bitten again. "Give it to your father. Now!" Ishtar turned herself to put her back towards him & then promptly lay forward over the crystal to keep it from him. Sherlock rolled his eyes with a loud groan. "Ishtar!" The child merely flicked her hair as she turned even her head away. She may not speak, but she still had some excellent communication skills which were currently driving Sherlock up the wall. "Fine. Be like that. You are as stubborn as your mother & my brothers combined!" Ishtar looked back at him & sent him a quick smile. The impudence! "Go ahead & cut yourself again. See if I care!" Sherlock complained, being more childish than the two year old at the moment.
"I wonder how he's going to get his rock back when we're done," Eurus said as she dropped into the grass beside Sherlock. "What if she bites him, too?"
"I'll just bite her back," Sherlock stuck his nose in the air, rather put out. "See how she likes it!" Eurus turned away, laughing.
"She gets it from you," the witch doctor had come up to them without being noticed. Both Sherlock & Eurus jumped a little & looked around at him. Ishtar was the only one who didn't seem to care as she flipped the amethyst over in her fingers once more. "She has a deep connection to you, so much so that it shows up in the combined red river you both share. That is why she is the way she is."
"Will she ever talk?"
The man watched the girl play for a moment. "Who is to say? I have met others who do not. They are ... beyond us. In a realm all their own. Some may speak a little. Some may never. But it is from you that she gets her diverse ways from, for you are also unlike most people & you are her favourite."
Sherlock was her favourite! He was momentarily stunned by that, but as for the rest, how in Hades could anyone have known? It would be another three thousand years for labels to be put to it, but somehow, this wizard already knew it was through the blood that the daughter had the same condition as her father, but manifested in a different way. Asperger's, a splash of colour on the broad spectrum of Autism & for her, she had gone non-verbal. Sherlock stood up & turned to face him. "But I talk just fine."
"It is her colour," the doctor began. "It is similar to yours, but different."
"Colour?" Sherlock asked.
"All colours reside in us, with at least one being more brilliant than the others," the doctor explained. "You & her are close, in the blue, but a bit darker for her. You are lighter, almost pale & close to white like ice, but I suppose you already know how your diversity shows. Perhaps in the way you see things, or maybe in the complexities of love."
Both were correct. "I know there is something wrong with me," Sherlock said, accepting what people had told him.
"Not wrong," the doctor corrected. "Just different. There is nothing wrong with you & certainly nothing wrong with the girl. It matters not how one connects to others. Has Ishtar made up her own signs to get her way, yet?"
"Yes," Sherlock said.
"Then that is her way," the man said. He put a hand out, as if feeling the air & went to pick Ishtar up. Handing her to Sherlock, he said, "There is no need for her & so, there is nothing I can do to force her. All I can tell you is that there is nothing wrong with either of you." Ishtar, amazingly, offered the stone back to the wizard but he held up a hand. "Keep it, my child. I have plenty more." Ishtar clutched it with both hands.
"What colour would I be?" Eurus asked.
"I would need a drop of your river to know," the witch doctor replied. Sherlock could only stare as Eurus promptly stabbed her finger onto an arrowhead & held out the small wound over leaf until a drop fell onto it.
"Eurus, we should head back," Sherlock said.
"We don't have time today," said Eurus. "We will have to stay here over night. I might as well see what he says." She gave the doctor a small pouch. "This is poison I use on some of my arrows. Take care with it." He nodded silently as he set to work to find her colour.
"There is a house open for all on the main road," Sherlock said. "I will go there to set up a night lodging."
By the time Eurus had joined him, Sherlock already had Ishtar down to sleep in a room with a single sleeping area. He had pulled it apart a little to make a space nearby for Ishtar. Eurus stretched out on one side of the bed & stared up at the ceiling. "He said I am shining grey."
Sherlock lay back beside her. They had often shared sleeping space growing up, so it was nothing new for either of them. "How does he even know what colour is? He can't see!"
"I asked him that & he said he could see as a child. The blindness came later," Eurus explained. "Now, he feels them." She rolled over to press up against Sherlock's side. "So, you finally got checked by the witch doctor."
"Not by choice," Sherlock muttered.
"How do you feel about what he said?"
Sherlock took a while to answer. Anyone who had ever tried to mention his difference had always said something was wrong with him. He had endured that his whole life from friends & family alike. Someone somewhere was always trying to 'fix' him. Elizabet wasn't one of them, but at the same time, she never once spoke of how he was different either. But the witch doctor had said something different. He had been the first & only person who did speak about this strangeness to not say something was wrong. "I always knew I am different," Sherlock began. "For once, someone does not try to find fault with me for it."
"What are you going to do about Ishtar?"
"As the witch doctor said, we can't force her," Sherlock said. "At least we know she is fine. She just does not make any sound." He put an arm around her to hold her close. "Try to sleep. We leave at first light."
Despite what he said, Sherlock stayed awake for a while. For the first time in his life, he started to accept the fact that he was fine. Different, but fine. It was close to dawn by the time he fell asleep. Eurus woke up first & had to climb over him to get out. She went to get the horses ready while he took some time to get up & take care of Ishtar.
Sherlock stepped outside, carrying Ishtar in one arm, letting her sit on the hip. He looked around at those who lived here, now out & about in fields or taking care of their animals. He started towards the side where the horses were kept.
"Tha Krános Xanthá Malliá."
Sherlock froze & spun around to see the witch doctor coming up to him. "How do you know my entire name? I rarely use the first part."
"I know many things," the doctor said as he put a hand on Ishtar's head for a moment. "I have seen something in vision." His hand moved to Sherlock's shoulder. "Your colour is nearly like ice. This can also mean that some souls have lost touch with the world & no longer have any care for others. Cold & unfeeling. An intense sorrow is about to come upon you & I fear it will destroy you."
"What do you mean by that?" Sherlock asked.
"I am sorry," the witch doctor turned & went around the corner.
"Wait!" Sherlock hurried after but by the time he had reached the corner, the witch doctor was nowhere in sight. Sherlock looked around. There was no way any one could have taken off that fast for there was no place to hide, but he couldn't find the witch doctor anywhere.
Eurus brought the horses over & took Ishtar while Sherlock mounted up. They returned home, but Sherlock never mentioned that extra conversation to anyone. What could cause such a sorrow that would destroy someone?
Sherlock thought often about what the witch doctor had meant & for a while, he took extra care of what went on around him. But a year went by & another was half gone, yet still, nothing had happened. By now, Sherlock chalked it up to the ramblings of an old man. He wondered sometimes just how old that doctor was.
Ishtar still didn't speak even though she was nearing her fourth birthday. By now, people just accepted the fact that she had no voice. If even the witch doctor could not bring her voice into existence, then there was no point in trying to make her speak. She had developed many signs by now & even learned to write Linear B from both her uncles. She could leave notes for anyone who could read them & found out quickly that not everyone had learned. But to hear her speak to anyone seemed to be a thing of fantasy.
Hunting parties still continued to go out in search of the vrykólakas & though several claimed to have found & destroyed some, it seemed to be far away from home as if the creatures had moved away. Mycroft still searched for the vile woman he had encountered, but she seemed to have disappeared completely. In fact, things seemed to settle down in the area, despite reports of undead attacks from abroad. For now, things close to home seemed to find some semblance of normal.
But then, animals everywhere started acting up. Wild ones would suddenly take off in droves while the domestic ones would often go crazy being cooped up in their pens. Sherlock even lost his mare for two weeks when she had suddenly bolted for no reason, pulling the rope from his hand which caused a painful burn in his palm. The only reason she was caught & brought home again was because that rope eventually wound up entangled in the bushes, holding her until someone heard her whinnies & fetched her back.
The weird effect on the animals seemed far spread, even unto the Waldheri valley. Johaiñe was currently creating something in more bark pieces when a huge flock of birds flapped wildly & took off, calling loudly to each other. He tossed the rock he was using to make scratches aside & shared a look with the Lady.
"We have seen this before in ages past," Johaiñe said as he got up & piled the bark pieces with inscriptions together. He placed them all into a linen bag. Hardly had he finished when loud whines & whimpers could be heard.
The Waldheri were suddenly on their feet, anxiously sniffing the air before dropping everything as they began to head into the hills. Tobias cast a worried look at Johaiñe & the Lady. "Foul!" He gasped. "The ground is foul! We must leave. Now!" He ran away without another word.
"I'll get the horses," the Lady said.
Johaiñe attached the bag of his works to the saddle, grabbed his strange coil of rope & climbed up. He turned his horse towards the same direction the Waldheri were hurrying. "Wherever those wolves are going is good enough for me," he said. "Let's move!" The horse he was on didn't need any encouragement.
Hardly had they made it into the high country when the very ground underneath them began to move wildly back & forth. Mycroft's horse bucked him right off & ran for it. No one ever saw that horse again. Sherlock was carrying one of his sons when the shake struck & he toppled over. He wrapped the boy in his arms in attempt to prevent him from hitting the ground as he went down. Others flattened themselves on the ground next to him.
"Father!" Ishtar screamed but she was held down next to her other brother by her mother. Sherlock looked at them in surprise. Ishtar spoke. It wasn't the first time she had made any sound. Ishtar had cried once or twice as a baby if something was truly bothering her. The shakes of Earth were completely traumatizing her which was most likely the cause of her cry now. But so far, that was her first & only word.
The quake stopped after a few minutes. As everyone picked themselves up, Sherlock handed the boy to Elizabet, then pulled Ishtar over & crouched down in front of her. "You spoke! I heard you!" He shook the girl a little. "Say it again. I know you can." Ishtar simply put her arms around him, but remained silent. She never spoke again.
The damage left over took a long time to fix. Houses had collapsed or even disappeared into holes. Sherrinford managed to find his cat which had been trapped in a feed trough for animals that had flipped over on top of it. Siger took the family up to the hunting cottage earlier in case it needed fixing. It took several days to repair it. As they were finishing, Violéta noticed that Siger was often looking ahead towards the sparkling horizon. Or what used to be the sparkling horizon.
The ocean had moved in closer!
"This will really mess up our fall hunting," Siger said. "We're going to have to make new trails."
"The sooner we get started on it, the better," Violéta said.
There were new cracks in the Earth that had to be avoided. One side of the Waldheri valley had slid down into a pile. New caves had to be found since ones they were used to had disappeared. It took time to forge new paths for hunting either for food or night stalkers. Hopefully, the new landscape would confuse those undead beasts as well for a little while.
The entire hunting season was set back a little which in turn caused Siger to go to the ports a later than usual, but that didn't matter. Two ports were gone for good. But that was the better news from the outside world.
Siger returned with worse. There was some sort of malady coming up from Egypt, killing man & beast alike & it was spreading quickly upwards towards the home land.
* The Daisy has been known since 2,200 B.C.; though 'day's eye' is Old English which doesn't exist yet & I am unable to find an earlier name. For now, I will not use 'day's eye' in spoken words.
** Means 'of the Master' which is what Dominic means in later languages. Not to be confused with 'of the master' which comes out differently in Greek. The case of the M/m makes the difference for some reason.
*** Basically, I've based this one on Cass Ole. If anyone's ever watched the old Black Stallion/Black Stallion Returns movies from 1979/-83. Cass Ole is the Arabian who portrayed the Black & as yet, there was never another such horse ever born from that company that produced him. Pics/Youtube videos of him are available online, plus also the two movies.
**** Greek for lion's tooth a.k.a the dandelion.