Sacrifice

Llaiannileaf works out a desperate plan to save Finola's youngest son.

8.

Sacrifice

 

The human world greatly perplexed Llaiannileaf, and their reasoning and logic baffled her, but she knew that she had to draw away the wicked Prince (who now, she assumed, was King) from finding his baby brother.   

She tried to think as a human would; quickly deducing that it would be illogical for someone who had escaped with the baby Prince to then go back to the palace to confront Mordric.     She had to make him think that she had placed the baby far out of his reach, and then was trying to flee from him when he stumbled upon her.

That was the effect that she wanted to create - a rescuer that had safely secured the infant from harm, that was intercepted while she was trying desperately to escape.

 

The problem was that everyone in this human world associated her with the hilltop where they left offerings to her.    The monastery where she had left the baby Prince was at the foot of this hill.   It would not be difficult for Mordric to figure out that the monastery was a logical place to hide the child due to its proximity to the hill.

 

So she had to convince him that she had spirited the baby far, far away, while waiting for them to ‘find’ her on the hill, apparently trying to escape this world.

It was risky, but Leaf could think of no other plan, so she materialized onto the top of the hillside.    The rain continued to fall, blanketing the land below with a gloomy fog.   The monastery seemed quiet and of that she was thankful.  She could hear the galloping of hooves and through the gloom could see the movement of horses and riders coming through the forest path toward the hillside.

 

She had to draw them to her, away from the monastery, for if they stopped and heard the cry of the baby, or one of the monks confessed what had happened, it would be the death of the child.

 

So Llaiannileaf took a deep breath and began to sing.   It was the Kindred Song again, and she sped it up and tried to interject what she hoped sounded like anxious fear.   

She kept her eyes on the movement up the trail toward the hillside.   They definitely heard her, for now the horses were thundering through the rain.   Leaf kept singing, even as they reached the hillside.   Thankfully, they did not pause at the Monastery, but quickly rode up the winding path toward the summit.   

Just before they came around the last bend into sight of her again, she pulled off her red cloak and wound it up into a ball in her arms, cradling it as if it were a baby.    As they came onto the top of the hillside, she threw the cloak into the air, as if she was releasing a bird, at the same time shouting out the Sidhe word for freedom.

The cloak flapped momentarily in the air then drifted down to the ground.     Leaf spun around, feigning surprise at the human horsemen’s appearance.   She took two steps backwards, preparing something to say that would help convince them that she had magically sent the baby that she seemed to be holding, far away.

 

But the horsemen were in no mood for explanations.    They rode on either side of her and as she turned toward one on her left, the rider on her right side swung a wicked horseman’s mace.    The blow against her head sent an explosion of pain through her and she fell senseless to the ground.

 

***

 

She was facedown in the mud, with rough hands binding her with chains.    Llaiannileaf gave no sign that consciousness had returned to her and lay there as her head throbbed with intense pain from the blow and blood trickled down the side of her head into her face.

“Don’t let the Faerie blood touch you!”  One of the horsemen that were binding her told another.

“Why?”

“It’ll burn you!   It’s poison!”

“How’d you know that?”

“Ask anyone.”

“You’re full of-“

“Then why do you think the Prince had us bind her with iron chains?   Not ropes, but specifically IRON chains?”

“What difference does it make?”

“Don’t you know nothing?    Ropes ain’t going to hold her.   Oh, she looks all soft and girly and all, but she’s a Faerie.    She fades in and out at will.    Iron binds them; they can’t move when they’re bound with it.   Burns them too.    My pa told me that a Faerie has to tell the truth when they’re bound with iron chains.”

“Ah, you’re acting like a scared baby!   Old wives’ tales is all it is.”

“Then why’d Mordric insist on iron chains?   He believes it.   She faded out today; Banyon was with the guards who broke into the room.   He saw her snatch up the baby and then just disappear.”

“She ain’t got the baby now.”

“Of course not!   You saw it too " she was chanting some spell and threw him up in the air " he’s probably in the Faerie world now.”

“-Or hanging from some branch.”   The other man countered and all the men around laughed.

“Well then go look for him again!”

The challenge seemed to muffle the laughter of the men, who had apparently already searched for the missing baby.

 

“Well, she is bleeding pretty badly from that blow.    Sean, why in the Hell did you hit her so hard?”

“She’s a damned witch, Rolf; of course I hit her hard!   I ain’t going to be killed by her touch or something!   If it kills her, well all the better, then we ain’t got to worry about her haunting us ever again.”

“Mordric wants her alive to question her, so you’d best hope she don’t die, Sean.   Wrap something around her head to stop the bleeding.”

“I ain’t touching her and getting Faerie blood on me!”

“For mercy’s sake!   Give me her cloak!”    A moment later she was roughly handled while someone wrapped her head in her cloak, which had been folded over to make a crude tourniquet.   

“You’re going to have to touch her long enough to tie her to the back of your horse, Sean.   I ain’t carrying her two miles.”

 

A group of men picked her up and carried her over to one of their horses.    Her chains rattled as they slung her over the saddle of the steed and then tightly lashed her to the saddle.   Then one of the men saw the two necklaces that she had taken from the offerings on the trees and ripped them from her neck.   Instead of pocketing them, he tossed them aside, mumbling about ‘Faerie jewelry’ as he threw them away.

Her head wound was terribly painful, but she managed to not give any sign that she was conscious.    It was a miserable ride back to the palace, bouncing and slapping against the side of the horse in the pouring rain.    Leaf focused on her plan, to ease the misery of the situation.  

 

Unceremoniously, they dropped her onto the muddy ground of the palace yard and then backed away as they waited for King Mordric to decide her fate.

She did not have long to wait, for her sensitive ears could hear his hurried boots sloshing through the water.

“Is that her?”  He asked as he neared, “Is that the Faerie witch?”

“Yes, Lord, we found her on the Banshee hill.   When we arrived, she had just finished her spell and looked like she threw something into the air that disappeared.”

“Threw it?    Interesting… perhaps my baby brother?”

“We searched, Lord, and only found the red cloak that she had apparently wrapped something up inside.    That is what we have wrapped around her head, as we hit her pretty hard.”

Mordric laughed cruelly, “I do wish I could have seen that.   She still lives, though?”

“Yes, Lord, we have her bound in iron chains as you commanded.    She’s still unconscious.”

“Fetch me a bucket of water and throw it on the witch.    If it doesn’t burn her, it should wake her up enough to answer my questions.”

“Lord, she may be able to still escape.”

“Fool, she’s bound by iron chains!   Her kind is poisoned by iron!  When she wakes up, she’ll be screaming in pain and willing to answer anything to be released from the agony.”

“How do you know this Lord?”

“Do not ask me how I know anything, you miserable maggot, or I’ll cut your tongue out for your insubordination!    I am your King now and you will treat me as such!   Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Lord.” The underling stammered.

“Then get me a bucket of water and be damned quick about it; I tire of getting wet!”

The sounds of someone running through puddles of water came to her.    Everyone else was silent, fearful of the wrath of their new King.

Leaf heard him tromping around her, looking at her closely.

“She’s more human-like than I imagined.”   He said out loud, perhaps to himself, “Very pretty… such a shame I’ll have to chop off that pretty head.    But we’ll see, perhaps I will be merciful… for a while.”

His words chilled her more than the cold rain, but she did not flinch, and he resumed walking around her.    A moment later someone could be heard running up to him.

“Good!”   Mordric said, “Give me that bucket!”

Llaiannileaf knew what was coming and prepared for a theatrical performance that would hopefully ensure safety for Finola’s baby.

As soon as the bucket of water was dumped on her face, she acted as if suddenly coming awake, but not slowly and groggily, instead, as if she awoke to find herself on fire.   Shrieking at the top of her lungs, she thrashed about on the ground so violently that even Mordric stepped back in fear.    She howled and writhed, contorting her body and face.   It was her best guess of how terrible agony would appear and though it made her wounded head throb, she knew she had to do it.

“IRON!  IRON!”  She screamed, “IT BURNS!  BURNS! BURNS!”

For a few moments more, they all just stared at her, until Mordric’s courage, bolstered by the assumption that the tales he had been told about iron being poisonous to Faeries and perhaps to witches, stepped closer.

“It is fitting for your interference!”   He yelled at her over her screams and moans, “I should let it consume you.”

“MAKE IT STOP!!”  She begged, “Please!   The pain, the pain!   It’s burning me up!”

Confident now, Mordric knelt close to her, “So you want the pain to stop?”

“Yes! Yes, anything! Please!”

“Then tell me witch; what have you done with my baby brother?”

“Make it stop and I’ll tell you!”

“TELL ME WHERE HE IS, DAMN YOU!”  Mordric roared angrily, then in a cold, calmer tone, “Tell me where he is, witch, and I will free you from the pain.”

“Promise me!”  She begged, knowing that he meant to kill her, but she had to convince him that she was in agony and desperate.

“Of course!   Where is the child?”

“Gone… where you cannot find him.”   She replied, making her words come out in gasps as if she was struggling through torment.

“WHERE?!   YOU TELL ME WHERE!”   He screamed at her, clenching his fists as if he wanted to strangle her, but was still too nervous to touch her.

“Faerie… no mortals… can go there… only those brought... by my people.”   She tried to sound as if she was growing weaker.    She wanted him to believe she was dying.

“Where is this Faerie place?”

“Another world… a… ghostly place… my people… live there.   You would… be killed… if you tried… to find it.”

Mordric snarled, “Why did you take him there?”

“Protected… from… you...”   She now was breathing (it seemed) in gasps, and her voice grew more and more soft, “My people… will train… him.”

“For what?”   Mordric was seething inside with barely controlled rage, but he knew he had to listen closely, for he thought he needed to get the information before she died.

“Revenge…”  She whispered, “He… will… come…back… and kill…you… some day.    Revenge… for… his mother… and father…”

Mordric grabbed her by the throat, his lips curled back like an enraged wolf, “You will tell me how to stop him, damn you, or…”

“Too late… for me… hear my… words… Prince… Mordric.  A curse… I place… upon all… who murdered… today.     My ghost… shall haunt… all those… who… shed blood… today.    I will… shed… their blood.   My ghost… will take… their lives… one by one.”

Mordric backhanded her, breaking her nose with his iron gauntlet.

“You… will die… by your… brother’s hands.” She said, as blood poured from her nose, “Any who… set foot… on my…hill… or who… go near… it… shall…die.”

Mordric now had a wicked knife out and held it against her throat, “Take back your curse or I will end your life now.”

“My life… has already… ended.    Beware!    Doom awaits… all those… who murdered….today.     Beware!”    As she spoke the last word, in a hissing whisper, she began to fade out.   

Mordric tried to slit her throat with his dagger, but she had become incorporeal.    The iron chains fell through her specter-like form.   Mordric knelt there in wide-eyed terror, which his followers mirrored in their faces, as they all watched her disappear into thin air.

Reviews

[Dhaye]

That was the effect that she wanted to create " a rescuer that had safely secured...--- that quotation mark ( " ) before A RESCUER, looks like a typo.

“It that her?” He asked as he neared, “Is that the Faerie witch?”----Maybe you mean IS THAT HER?


I enjoyed this chapter, Eddie.

[Eddie Davis]

Thank you, Dhaye, I apparently missed a couple of errors while proofreading. I appreciate you pointing them out and I'm very thrilled to have you reading this story.

[Dhaye]

You're welcome.