Page 13 of Thief of Roses
“Only a few moments, Fir’Darl,”she said as if she had any authority here,“but no more.”
“As thou desyrest.”He held his hand out to indicate the doorway.“That whyche Y brought, Y thought myght bryngeth thee comfortte.”
Oh gods, his hands, gnarled and furry and tipped with claws, presented no comfort.She had no desire to get near them or to follow the bearer of such hands.If he observed her trepidation for what it was, he gave no indication of it.She gathered up her dignity and her courage and marched past him out into the overgrown herb garden, fighting the urge to flee.
“Presents already?A bit soon in our acquaintance, do you not think?”She hoped her voice did not quaver.She preferred to sound scornful than frightened.
“‘Tis no gyft, only that whyche ys thine by ryght.”
He followed her out of the kitchens and led her through another deer path, this time one that circled the other side of the keep.
His gait, slow and careful, did not match up with the rest of his physique.She could only imagine that he had greater speed than their current slow plodding through the undergrowth and could therefore only assume that such a god slowed his pace for his pet human.The idea nettled her.
She did not have long to be nettled, however, startled as she was by the sight to which he led her.Hervyardin, looking better than she had seen it in years, had been brought to a small clearing not far from the inner curtain wall entrance.The wheel had been mended, the mud cleaned from it, the empty harness for her horse tucked out of sight.
She started for it and then stopped.She turned back to the creature who had led her here.If roses cost years, then any true debt had to cost dearly.She could not accept it without knowing what she might pay.
“Fir’Darl, what is the price of accepting this?”
“Thy cartte belongeth to thee.Thy home wilt accorden so.”
This had to be some kind of trap or test or trial.
“I know better, Fir’Darl.What will I owe you if I accept this?”
“Twill be no debt, Rivani, no cost, no pryce.”His broad shoulders fell a little although his face remained impassive.
“You mended the wheel.You cleaned her.You brought her here.What do I owe you?”
“Such Y gyveth freely.”He hesitated a moment as if he would say more but then he withdrew.“Y shall leave thee to enjoy thy cartte.”
“Is that all you wanted of me?”
“Aye, ‘tis all.Dost thou requyre else?”
She hated herself for wishing she had a pretense to keep him there.She had been here for the better part of a fortnight already since their encounter at the rose bush and until today, she had only exchanged disembodied words.She had almost begun to question her own senses, wondering if in the haunted silence she had imagined a vision and a sound for her worst fears.
“My horse,”she said, aware of the empty harness and the pains he had taken to hide it.“What of her?”
“Y attended her.”
She nodded and turned her face away so that she could banish the threatening tears without an audience to them.She did not want to know anything more about what “attended” meant.She could only imagine it meant something nefarious and horrible, but at least it meant that her beloved companion would not be left on the road, abandoned as if she had never meant anything to anyone.Her throat closed over.How she would have loved the comfort of a familiar companion now.
“Thank you,”she whispered in spite of herself, in spite of her determination not to be grateful or indebted, and in spite of the fact that she believed the ultimate fate of her horse was not one she wished to know.She could not have done anything for her horse by herself.She did not know if he heard her express her gratitude because by the time she had taken control of her emotions, cleared her throat, and possessed enough self-command to look back at him, he had gone.
She set herself backto work later that day after going through hervyardinand ensuring everything she had left behind remained with her cart.Everything appeared intact and untouched and she gave thanks to the gods although they had appeared to abandon her just days before.However, when she left hervyardinto resume her toils in the kitchens, her mind wandered to the point where she threw her hands up and settled on the bench of the central kitchen work table, resigning herself to the disagreeable fact that she would be useless today due to the contemplation inspired by the unexpected turn of events.
The Fir’Darl, according to the stories, embodied the ugliness and hatred of the world and took form during the Great Persecution as a result of the mass suffering, becoming a divine corporeal entity.The Rivani left blood offerings to him before entering unknown forests lest he kill them instead.And at the mid-year festivals, many caravans constructed monstrous effigies before which they gave sacrifices and then set ablaze that they might appease the Fir’Darl for another year.
This creature resembled that which had been described in whispered tones among believers and used to frighten children for those whose faith had waned.While she fumed at the Fir’Darl for the odious bargain she entered, he had done little towards her to solidify his reputation.He had not threatened her or demanded anything of her, save her time.He attended her needs and even returned her home after tending and fixing it.The Fir’Darl, for all the stories of his cruelty, behaved most civilly.The idea threw her and she had not yet found a way to reconcile it.
For much of the day, she basked in the warmth from the sun coming through the doorway.Despite the novelty of being so indolent, she still chided herself for her idleness even as she made no move to correct it.For those few hours, she recaptured that sense of peace she had known before she had met the Fir’Darl even if he occupied her thoughts.
She almost missed the object of her contemplation when he, much later that day, crossed the visual field of the open kitchen door.She would have missed him had she not been facing the doorway, silent as he moved out in the vegetation.He glanced in before withdrawing when he spied her.She took a deep breath, gave an extra pull to the scarf keeping her hair bound, and went after him.She spoke to the Magic before as a friend and now, knowing that he directed the Magic of this place, it might be prudent to make a gesture so that they could peacefully cohabitate.Although she chafed over her confinement, she reserved her fury for herself.Magic the likes of which she had seen here required greater wariness than she gave it.He could have asked for more but he only requested the one thing she could give — to be here for just a year and a day.With her voluntary agreement, she had no right to blame him, which may have frustrated her too.
She sprinted from the kitchen, attempting to follow his path.It made her laugh as she ran to think that he might be avoiding her!It had appeared to be the case with his furtive glance into the kitchens and hasty retreat.
“Fir’Darl!”she called when she lost him in the flowering overgrowth.Instead of calling out again, she read the brambles and trodden undergrowth.She tracked poorly, but with such large prey, she may have a chance to find him without resorting to the pathetic wail of her own voice.
