Farsooth

FARSOOTH

First Place, Fresh Ink Group Short Story Contest 2012

By Anna Cates and Geoff Porter

I’m not sure when he started to follow me, but I made sure to get a good look at him. He stood about three feet tall. He wore brown trousers, a red shirt, and leather boots, his blue hat pointing skyward. Black fur bristled from his forearms, and his skin seemed a scaly green more reptilian than human. I picked up my pace, but he stayed about thirty feet behind me, making no moves to hide. I turned to face him, my hand on the hilt of my dirk. His pointy canines protruded from his lips.

He walked right up to me and stopped. “What’s your name, boy?”

“I don’t talk to strangers.”

“But I’m not a stranger,” the little green man said. “I’m a troll.”

I pulled my dirk just a bit out of its scabbard so he’d know I carried silver. “I’m just trying to get home.”

“You live in Farsooth?”

I nodded, stepping away from the creature.

The troll licked his lips. “There’s a wizard near Farsooth who owes me a great debt. We can travel there together.”

I ran. I pushed my legs as hard as they’d go, pumping away at the ground until my calves burned. The lights from Farsooth dotted into view like fireflies winking in and out among the trees. I paused to catch my breath then walked briskly toward home.

The troll stepped out from behind a maple directly in my path. I drew my dirk. The troll did a little three-step dance, and white lightning bolted from his hand at my blade. The charge made me jump and drop the thing. He spoke in a loud voice, “You’ll escort me to the wizard in Farsooth.”

I fell to my knees and cried, “Why me?”

The troll walked toward me. I scurried out of his reach, pushing myself along the ground. He reached down and picked up my dirk. He held it out to me hilt-first. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Ben.”

He tossed the dirk underhanded at me, and it landed at my feet. “My name is Brackfor, and I’ve urgent business in Farsooth. You know of the ward around the place?”

I let out a little whimper. “The curse?”

“Curse, ward, magic spell. You know of it?”

“Of course. I’m from there, as I told you before.”

The troll nodded. “I need you.”

I sheathed my dirk. “Do you know what the wizard will do to me if I lead you there?”

“Do I need to show you how to fear me more than the wizard?”

Tears streaked down my cheeks as I tilted my head skyward. “Why did I ever seek my fortune outside of Farsooth?”

“Take me to the wizard. Right now!”

I pushed myself off the ground. “How do I know you don’t plan on leading an army there to conquer us?”

“The wizard owes me a debt, boy, an ancient debt. He concocted the whole curse to keep me from collecting, but now that I’ve found you, the debt will be paid.”

“I could turn around and go the other direction.”

“You like the touch of that lightning I showed you? I can hit even harder with it. Would you like to see? You’re from Farsooth, so you know where the wizard lives. I need you.”

“I should never have left home. I wanted to see the world, but the world is dark, and every place you go they expect coins for every little thing.”

The troll smiled. He backed up to a tree and scratched his shoulders on the bark. “I have all night.”

I walked towards town, Brackfor following. He rattled on about silly things: Did Farsooth have apple orchards? A shaded, swimming hole? Regular trash collection?

To the last question I answered, “A wagon rolls through town every morning, but if you sleep in—”

“Ahhh, fair enough. Most towns have both a morning and an afternoon wagon.”

We walked for a solid hour, Brackfor babbling cryptic, troll jingles. We approached the first structure in town, an inn I was always welcomed at and where my cousin worked. She waved from the porch. I ran toward her. “Jessica! Do you have any food?”

She laughed. “I made soup this morning. There’s still half a pot left. Come in, and help yourself.”

I raced into the house and loaded up a wooden bowl with vegetable mutton stew off the stove. At the table my stomach protested at first as I ate but soon settled down.

Jessica stepped into the room. “Slow down, or you’ll make yourself sick.”

“I haven’t eaten in a week! I ran low on coins, and you know the price of food these days.”

“You should never have left Farsooth,” she said with a sigh.

I nodded and feasted, savoring spoonfuls of carrot and potato, rosemary floating in the murky broth.

Brackfor let himself in and grinned.

Jessica pointed at the beast. “Who’s that?”

The creature with green scales bowed. “I’m but a humble traveler seeking the wizard.”

Jessica scowled. “You greasy piece of filth, we should kill you!” She pulled a knife out of her belt and advanced on Brackfor.

“No,” I cried, realizing Jessica didn’t understand her danger.

Brackfor jumped in the air, spinning completely around, and pointed his finger at the blade. Lightning arced to the steel, causing Jessica to twitch and drop the dagger with a cry of pain. He turned on me with pointed finger. “I can hurt you both bad if you want to mess with me. I can hurt you so bad you’ll be feeling it for years.”

I wanted to run, but I stood my ground. “I’m not afraid of you,” I managed to say.

“Take me to the wizard!”

“After supper and a night’s rest. I’m famished and fatigued. You want me collapsing in the woods or getting lost in the dark?”

“Very well,” he said, his pinhole eyes scrutinizing me. “But tomorrow we set forth at dawn.”

I nodded, knowing I had but one night to devise a plan to escape my servitude.

That night, downstairs by the fire, he slept, if sleep you could call it. Trolls slumber with one eye open, and I knew I’d never slip past him unseen. Upstairs, I tossed and turned on the straw mattress, torturing my thoughts for some way out, but nothing came to me. At last, I drifted into a troubled rest, resigning myself to my new status of lackey to a troll, grinding my teeth at the ignominy.

The next morning, just as Brackfor had bid, we set forth at dawn. I carried a sack of biscuits just starting to stale, a gift from Jessica. We paced through the woodland trails, screech owls and ravens noisy in the trees above us, branches heavy laden with moss. I mumbled to myself between gritted teeth as I trod along, Brackfor’s rasping breaths hot behind me. How I wished I could club his head right off his shoulders and be back to my business right away.

At noon, at the fork in the trail beside the dead oak, I turned left, heading toward the swamps.

“You better not try any funny stuff,” Brackfor said.

“We’ll leave the main trail soon,” I said, remembering the familiar landmark of rocks where one turned right down an incline that led to a clearing where lay the wizard’s abode. Not that anybody ever ventured down there, but we townspeople knew where he lived. Moments later, we reached the rocks.

“This way,” I told him, turning back for a glimpse of his dead, coal eyes. “Are you sure you want to go down there?”

“Lead the way.”

We stumbled down the hill, slipping on muddy patches covered in orange leaves, the air crisp with the scent of pine needles.

A thin trail of smoke snaked from the wizard’s chimney. He’s home, I thought, my heart thudding as I estimated how quickly I could run back up the hill before the necromancy began. A troll battling a wizard was not a sight I cared to behold, and I didn’t want to choke on brimstone or get burned either. I’d heard of people going blind or becoming mute from such exposure. I shuttered yet kept myself moving forward till I stood in the clearing, facing the cold cobblestone the wizard called home.

“Balshazar, you bastard, come forth,” Brackfor cried. I winced, scurrying to the edge of the clearing to take cover behind a tree. What terror awaited the woods?

A shutter opened, wood slamming against stone, and a bald head emerged, governed by deep wrinkles. A salt-and-pepper moustache flowed down either side of the wizard’s mouth in braids, framing narrow lips and discolored teeth.

“Who dares disturb my peace?” the wizard spoke through a scratchy voice, compromised by centuries of spell-casting.

Brackfor stood with legs spread and arms akimbo. “You’ve cursed the land. We’ve had nothing but crop failures for three years, and today is your day of reckoning.”

I could feel my eyes bulging in their sockets, my clammy fingers pressed against the bark. Where Brackfor got his courage from, I could not say!

The wizard disappeared from the window only to open the front door and present himself. He wore leather boots and pants but was naked from the waist up, his upper body strangely muscled as if a charm kept him vigorous beyond his years.

“Idiots!” the wizard said, his eyes rolling. “There’s no curse! I told the peasants to leave the fields fallow every seven years. Twenty years ago, I finally gave up instructing them.” His lips curled into a deceptive grin.

Brackfor stood resolute. “The people have farmed these lands for centuries. Your claim of their stupidity is not convincing. Besides, you owe me a great debt, and I’ve come to collect.”

The wizard folded his arms across his chest. “That again? When will you trolls give up and realize your centuries-old forfeiture is permanent?”

I wasn’t expecting the blinding light to hiss from Brackfor’s finger so quickly. It landed on the wizard’s forehead. He gasped but then seemed to absorb the energy.

“Is that the best you can do?” He raised his arms, forming an arch. A ball of light fizzled to life, smoking in his gnarled grasp. He hurled the ball at Brackfor with a putrid explosion.

The scent of something foul burning, like rotten meat, filled the air. The wizard’s magic seemed so dark, so diabolical, it sickened even a mediocre lad like me. I lurched forward, losing my morning porridge on a fallen log.

I stumbled backward, dizzy, gasping, insane dread tearing into me like demonic possession. Nearly blind, I fled toward the hill.

The battle raged for a few moments more until the wizard fell to his knees. The troll cackled a high-pitched laugh. “I have you now!”

No! I thought, sensing something amiss. I picked up a rock no bigger than an egg and threw it with all my might at the gloating troll. It hit him on the back of the skull.

“Oww!” he screamed.

I picked up a second rock as the troll turned to face me.

Lightning arced into my body with enough force that I was hurled off the ground. I fell on my back in the leaves. Pain racked my body as the troll stood above me, raining all kinds of hell on me.

The wizard pushed himself off the ground and began to dance to a silent tune.

The troll screeched and stopped moving. I could see him struggling in his eyes, but as I watched, the creature turned to stone. The eyes darted around alive, but the rest of him was made of granite.

The wizard walked over to us and helped me to my feet.

I touched the troll: cold and stiff. “How long will he stay this way?”

“Until I die,” the wizard said. He pointed with his hand, and the stone statue lifted off the ground and vanished. “Let me show you something.”

We walked a ways. Stepping past a hedgerow, an army of troll statues greeted us. All of them stared at us with eyes alive.

“So many,” I said.

“Every few years some fool decides Farsooth isn’t good enough and leaves. Every time, he returns with a troll. The troll is always stronger than the last, or my powers are waning.”

“If you die, they’ll conquer Farsooth!” I said, realizing that was the threat I’d sensed and why I’d thrown the rock.

He nodded. “I need to start teaching my magic to a young apprentice.”

My eyes widened, and my mouth dropped open. “Don’t look at me!” I shook my head.

“Farsooth has always been full of cowards.”

I sighed, my shoulders crumpling. I sat down on the ground cross-legged. “Is it difficult?” I peered up.

“The hardest thing you’ll ever do, but bar wenches tend to like spell-casters.” His eyes twinkled, and his lips curled into a grin.

I hopped to my feet. “I’ll do it!”