Verge of Darkness
*******
Cabris earned his livelihood supplying the settlements on the foothills with goods from southern towns such as Lysalis. Occasionally he brought goods from as far as Petralis, but these costed more due to the greater distance, and few of the people in these outlying settlements could afford the coin.
Cabris was a cautious man, and hearing the approach of the Axeman, ordered his daughters to hide in the bushes behind the wagon. Lucia and Sunia had pleaded to accompany him on the journey, and he had agreed, much against his better judgement. The road wasn't a safe place for a lone man past middle age and two girls nearing their bloom. But he had always found it difficult to refuse them anything, particularly since their mother had died of the wasting sickness six months earlier.
He had detected an odd accent in the stranger's voice, and his heart sank when he spied him. Leading a huge white horse, Cabris saw the biggest and most fearsome looking man he had ever laid eyes on.
“Well met stranger,” Cabris said, hoping the giant didn't notice the tremor in his voice. “You look like you have come a long way. You are welcome to share my modest meal.”
Cabris cursed himself. He had no idea why he made the offer, what with his daughters hiding behind the wagon, and he being no protection should the huge stranger have ill intentions.
“I thank you for your kindness,” the giant said, his voice deep and rumbling, as he tethered his horse to a nearby tree. The animal dipped its head and began to crop at the fresh grass at its feet. He nodded at the haunch of meat roasting on a spit above the fire. “That smells and looks good. I haven't eaten well in days. My belly feels like its pressing against my backbone.”
Cabris noted how the man had paused at the edge of the camp, his one good eye glinting as he took in his surroundings. Here was a careful man who didn’t take unnecessary chances. He studied his guest. He was bigger and more fearsome looking at close quarters, but Cabris could sense no malice in him.
As big as a mountain bear, his clean-shaved head gleaming with sweat, a black leather patch covered his left eye-socket. A trio of parallel scars ran from his left temple, down across his left cheek-bone. Cabris judged them to be claw marks, and guessed some kind of beast must have ripped out the eye. A heavy black beard didn't make his aspect look more welcoming.
“Aye, it's a long-horned deer I brought down this morning,” Cabris told his unexpected guest. “There is more than enough to go around, but you are so pigging big, you could likely devour it all in one bite.” He grinned nervously as the giant lowered his frame to the ground with a weary groan, propping his forearm on the trunk of a nearby fallen tree.
Moon regarded his host, tugged out his flask and took a light pull. Shaking it, determining there was a bit left at the bottom, he tossed the flask to Cabris who deftly caught it and took a pull.
“Sayler's tits,” gasped the trader, “strong stuff!”
“Aye,” Moon said, grinning. “I've been saving the last few drops, though it’s been mighty difficult seeing how fond I am of it.” He laughed. “My father...Racvir used to say it rotted a man's head.”
“I can believe that,” Cabris agreed ruefully.
Leaning forward, Moon offered his arm. The two gripped forearms in the traditional greeting. “My name is Moon.”
“Cabris,” the trader responded.
Locking gaze with his host, Moon didn't relinquish his grip. Cabris licked his lips nervously as he felt the power in the grip. He knew the man could crush every bone in his arm with little effort.
“I don't think you are roasting that deer just for yourself, my friend,” Moon said in a level tone, his voice soft. He glanced at the folded blankets on the ground next to Cabris. “And I don't think a tough old bird like you needs to pad his backside with blankets. I mean no harm to you or yours. You better call your women out from behind the wagon. They must be getting mighty hungry, with the smell wafting to them.”
Cabris’s heart sank, but he knew he had little choice but to trust his fearsome looking guest. He said a silent prayer to the patron god of travellers that his initial judgement had been correct. “Come on out, Lucia, Sunia,” he called. “Food is about ready.”
Moon looked up as the two girls moved into view. Though he didn't consider himself an expert on such matters, he judged one to be around eighteen summers and the other perhaps fifteen. Both were real beauties with long dark hair and large soft brown eyes. Cabris beckoned them to sit on the blankets next to him. “They take after their mother, thankfully,” he said with a proud smile.
All four sat quietly while the meat cooked. Lucia studied Moon boldly, while the younger Sunia kept her eyes downcast. Moon felt himself reddening under the scrutiny. Lucia was a mightily attractive girl. Used mainly to women who bestowed their favours for coin, he was unsure how to behave among honest women-folk, and was loath to give offence.
Cabris frowned, noting his daughter's bold scrutiny. Rising to his feet, he turned the spit and pierced the joint with a knife. Clear juice ran clear making the fire spit and hiss. “It is ready,” he said, looking at his daughters.
Sunia climbed into the wagon and returned bearing four roughly carved wooden platters, each with a hunk of bread. She placed the platters before the fire. Lucia carved strips from the joint and placed them on the platters. Glancing over her shoulder at Moon, she smiled as she placed a larger serving on one of the plates. Cabris noted the gesture. Though occasionally too bold for her own good, she was a thoughtful girl. An oversized man like their guest, particularly one who had travelled far would have a prodigious appetite.
Nodding his thanks, Moon awkwardly accepted his platter from Lucia, then set to, wolfing down the contents in no time.
Cabris and his daughters ate at a more sedate pace.
Smiling, Lucia glanced at Moon “There is a lot more, please help yourself.”
Moon nodded his thanks again. Standing up, he walked over to the spit. The fire was out and the meat had cooled down.
Cabris looked up. “We are done,” he told his guest. “Why don't you finish it off?”
Moon grabbed the haunch and returned to his seat. Lifting it to his mouth, he tore at the meat, juice running down into his beard. The girls glanced at him and burst into giggles. He loved the sound of their laughter, and tried to smile at them through a mouthful of succulent deer-meat. All he succeeded in doing was drip more juice down his beard, eliciting more giggles.
Afterward, Lucia and Sunia busied themselves cleaning the platters, then disappeared into the wagon. Moon and Cabris sat back with bellies full.
Cabris looked at his guest. “So, my friend, you are a long way from home. What brings you to these southern lands?”
Moon belched, wiping grease from his lips with the back of his hand. “I have business in Petralis,” he replied.
“Great city, Petralis. But I hear there is trouble brewing there. Hundreds of people have been fleeing it.”
Moon frowned. “War?”
“No I don't think so. Something about demons, I have heard.”
“Frigga's tits! Demons? What sort of demons?”
“How would I know my friend? How many types are there? All I know is they are best avoided.”
Moon scratched at his beard, flicking away bits of deer meat tangled in It. “I can't argue with that, but I have no choice, I have to go to Petralis.”
“Horse dung,” Cabris responded “A man always has a choice.”
“There is truth in that, but believe me, Cabris, I have no real choice in this matter.”
Cabris looked closely at the giant but didn't push further.
“I will be grateful if you show me the quickest way to get there. I am not too familiar with these parts,” Moon said.
“Aye, I can do that. But not quite yet. I don't usually encounter good company on the road. I've got a bottle in the wagon. Let's share it and talk some more.”
Moon looked at the older man and grinned. By the Horned god, it was
the first time he had ever been accused of being good company. “Aye, that sounds like a good idea my friend.”
Cabris called out. “Sunia, do your old father a favour and toss me that old bottle of wine from the bottom of my chest.”
A short time later, Sunia climbed out of the wagon, and handed her father a deep-green bottle. Popping the cork, Cabris raised the bottle to his nose and sniffed it, breathing deeply. He grinned at Moon. “This was given me by a merchant friend in Petralis. The old liar claimed it was over a hundred years old. I've been saving it for a special occasion such as this!”
“A special occasion such as meeting a bald one-eyed man on the road, who eats all your food,” Moon responded, with a short bark of laughter.
“Aye,” Cabris said, winking at Moon. “It's not every day I share my camp fire with a heathen barbarian from the Northlands!”
Moon laughed again. “I do like you, little man. You make me laugh, and that is something I haven't had much cause to do in a long time.”
Cabris nodded. “It's good for a man to laugh. It cleanses the soul.” Raising the bottle to his lips, he poured some of the contents down his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. Replacing the cork, he tossed the bottle to his one-eyed guest. Moon caught the bottle, popped the cork and took a tentative sip.
Moon's eyes widened appreciatively. He took a deeper draught. “Interesting stuff. Goes down smoothly. I've never tasted the like. What is it called?”
Cabris pulled at his earlobe and peered at Moon, his eyes twinkling. “I knew you were a man who would appreciate some of the finer things in life when you rode into my camp.”
The Axeman looked at his drinking companion, deep laughter rumbling in his chest. “Cow dung!” he said. Taking another pull, he replaced the cork and tossed the green bottle back to Cabris.
The older man snared the bottle and held it up to his face. “Cow dung never tasted this good. The merchant called it Amarian Pale I seem to remember.” He put the bottle to his lips and gurgled down more of the contents.
Moon’s eyebrows lifted. “Travelling bard who stops by the settlement now and again, sometimes sings about a mighty axeman from a land far from here. Can’t remember his name...ale and drink used to flow freely during his performances. Said this axeman was fond of a drink called Lansa…Lentza… Red or some like.”
Cabris grunted, eyeing his guest with bleary eyes. “Maybe, but I’d wager he wasn’t as mighty as you, my friend.”
“Aye, he was likely some overgrown farm boy with a chopping axe who ran off some half-starved raiders,” Moon said with a laugh.
Moon stood, lifted his arms and stretched his back. Walking over to his horse, he unburdened the animal, lifting his saddle, bed-roll, pack, and Widowmaker from its back. Placing the items on the ground, he took a stiff brush from his pack and groomed the stallion, whispering soft words to it.
Cabris sat watching the giant, musing here was a man who clearly loved and appreciated his horse. Too many men simply saw them as animals – beasts of burden to be used and discarded when no longer useful. His eyes wandered to the massive axe on the ground, and he shuddered. The thing looked like it could level mountains. He pitied anyone who made an enemy of the Northman and had to face the fearsome weapon.
Moon looked over his shoulder, catching the direction of his host's gaze. “My people and my enemies – those who still live, call it Widowmaker,” he offered, grinning. “Best weapon I've ever had. Curious thing, the blades never blunt or notch. Took it from a man who tried to take my head with it.”
Cabris shuddered again.
Moon finished grooming the stallion, stowed the brush away, and returned to his place by the fallen tree. Cabris lobbed him the bottle of Amarian Pale. He polished off the contents and sat back. “It is none of my business,” he said, glancing toward the wagon. “I am a stranger in these parts, but surely, it's not safe for an old man to travel alone with his young daughters.”
“Aye, you are right, my friend,” Cabris replied. “The wasting sickness took their mother half a year ago. They usually stay with my sister when I am on the road, but they insisted on accompanying me on this trip. They are the pride and joy of an old man, and I couldn't say no to them. There is danger everywhere these days, what with the talk of demons and such, but luckily I haven't encountered much trouble on these trips.” Tugging on his earlobe, he grinned at Moon. “At least not until meeting you of course!”
A little while later, his belly full, and pleasantly sedated by the deceptively potent Amarian Pale, Moon’s eyelids gradually got heavier. Stretching on the ground, he fell asleep.
Lucia and Sunia emerged from the wagon and sat by their father.
Sunia looked at the sleeping giant. “Ugh,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I don't like him, and he smells.”
Lucia shook her head. “He is big and scary, and he does smell, but he is like a friendly old bear. I like him.”
“Hush now girls” Cabris admonished. “He might hear you.” He drew his daughters into a hug. “But you are both right, he does smell a bit,” he whispered, “and he is as big as a bear. Bears may look soft and friendly, but when riled, are ferocious and deadly. I wouldn't want to rile such a man”