Across the Fate of the World, Part Seven
Chapter 6: Mjolkbridge
Now there are some things I actually like about this chapter, but the beginning isn't one of them. Our five 'heroes' ride off and talk about Kroptur, the boring hermit we met last chapter. Kurr says that Kroptur has great faith in the Most High, which he doesn't share, but even so "it does us good to have the confidence of a man like Kroptur" why this is so I'm not sure, but I suspect I was meant to be more impressed with the man than I was.
They keep riding, and Kurr things about what crap horsemen the Mayor and Emo are. He doesn't do anything about it, it's just thrown in there.
Meanwhile, in the Bhrudwan camp, the horse that Mahnum jabbed in the foot with a rock is lame. It breaks it's leg as they try and cross a river. Mahnum and Indrett smile at one another as the Bhrudwans argue about what to do with their horse. I'm not sure what the point of these Mahnum interludes is, because they don't seem to add much to the plot, except I'll forgive it on this occassion because, as I already mentioned, the lame horse thing leads to the introduction of my favourite character in this rather poor series later in this chapter.
Back with the five, they ride for a few days until they finally make it to a bridge over the river leading to the last town before the mountains into which the Bhrudwans have already headed. They arrive to find the bridge held by armed men, who tell them to get off their horses. Emo, Hal, Stella and Mayor, having a care for thier own safety, do as they're told. Kurr refuses, angril demanding to know why the bridge is being guarded. The guards, tolerantly, ask their business. The five, having a constant care for spies, try to bullshit their way through by saying that the Mayor is taking his neice Stella to visit some of their relations, while the other members of the group hope to see the beauty of the mountains. The leader of the bridgekeepers sees through this at once, since the mountain valleys are only beautiful in autumn, not winter. Kurr then changes his tune and says that they are on their way to the Haufuth's sick uncle's bedside, and they cannot wait as he may die at any moment. This still doesn't fly and the gang is surrounded and told to "come with us."
Unfortunately, they aren't carted off to prison or put under guard or any other situation to induce some dramatic tension into this story, they are instead escorted to the village pub where the Haufuth of Mjolkbridge sits them down and tells them although he knows they aren't telling the truth he doesn't mind since their business is their own. If that was the case, one is bound to wonder, why have a guard on the bridge asking people their business?
Kurr, who never seems to be satisfied, demands to know "where is the legendary hospitality of the north?" a display of ingratitude that sets certain members of the village murmuring before thier Haufuth shuts them up.
The Haufth of Mjolkbridge gives one of those answers that is supposed to be deep but really falls flat:
"I have said we will help you, oldling, and help you we will. In many parts of the world that alone would be hospitality enough for legend."
This is obviously supposed to set up the idea of this world as a dark place, full of fear and shadows and peril. The only trouble is that apart from the Bhrudwans whom nobody knows about we've precious little sign of any of this so far.
The Mjolkbridge Haufuth, who is a remarkably patient man, explains everything to them. Three days previous two of the Bhrudwans rode across the bridge and into town, killed a man in the middle of the street, took his horse and rode off. So, Mahnum's action in laming the horse has cost a man his life. I wonder if this qualifies as a "Nice job breaking it Hero" moment?
The villagers formed a posse and rode after them, coming on the Bhrudwans burying their dead horse. They charged, but the Bhrudwans used magic to scare them away.
Kurr and Mayor reveal that they're pursuing the Bhrudwans, and Kurr gets a line I rather like when he's asked what hope they can possibly have:
"Faint hope, at best," replied the old farmer frankly, "But we make do without hope."
The Mayor then goes and spoils the mood be accepting an offer to stay at the Inn for the night and have a pub supper. I repeat that these are the most incredibly laid back heroes ever. Never mind that your friends and relatives are out there suffering sit down, have a pint, have a pasty, have a packet of crips and some peanuts while you're at it. These people really don't care about Mahnum and Indrett at all, do they?
They have their tea, and Emo, Hal and Stella for a walk in the chill night air. Emo whines inwardly about the fact that his brother won't leave him alone with his girlfriend, just as Hal excuses himself and leaves the two of them alone. Strangely, Emo's first reaction to this is to protest, despite that he was just wishing that Hal would go away. Fortunately Stella has more than the brains of a teabag and takes the hint, drawing Emo away. They talk about the beginning of the first chapter, when Emo waited all day for her in the cold and Stella never came. She reveals that she only said she'd meet him to annoy her boyfriend Druin, and that when he found out he wouldn't let her come and meet him.
"I couldn't have gotten away from him even if I'd tried."
Which means she didn't try. And I'm not liking her any more just because it turns out she uses people in order to get at her fiancee.
Emo asks why she couldn't have told him this earlier, and Stella thinks about how everyone was laughing at him for waiting for her and if she'd spoken to him they'd have laughed at her as well. I think this is supposed to be character development and it is, but it's actually setting back my sympathy for Stella for the point where I doubt I'd be sorry if the Bhrudwans got her.
"The two tormented tennagers" continue walking and Stella says she's never going home because she hates her fiancee. Emo has no idea what to say to this (Get in there my son! Who else is there?) and they start back to the pub.
Back in the pub, Mayor and Kurr are still talking with the Haufuth of Mjolkbridge, who asks them to kill or capture the Bhrudwans as vengeance for the dead man. Nevertheless no one in thier right minds will help them to do it. Fortunately Mjolkbridge has two men who are not in thier right minds, and they will perfectly willing to come along. Just as it is explained that they are the sons of the murdered man, the door bursts open and the Storrsen brothers, Farr and Wira, storm in.
Farr, who we meet here for the first time, is my favourite character in this entire trilogy, which is strange because he is plainly one of those the author likes the least. I suppose I like him because in some ways he is rather similar to my own personal main character, Michael. He is fairly badass and sort of an anti hero, he is one of the only characters who never angsts about his lot or his troubles and he has a clutch of provincial working class prejudices that make him stand out as the most beleivably human character of the set. He is also however the author's buttmonkey, the means by which he delivers every anvilicious message about tolerance, and gets some truly retarded character development. For me, all this ill treatment simply adds to his charm.
I have rather less to say about Wira, who mainly exists for two purposes, one of which we'll see in a moment and the other as the voice of calm to Farr's blind emotional responses. The problem with this is that it makes him less interesting than his brother.
Farr demands to know, in between Wira's attempts to calm him down, if they are really planning to pursue the Bhrudwans. When he learns that they are, he next asks if any of the five are fighting men. The answer is a resounding no, which Farr seizes upon as his excuse, they will need him and his brother because they are badass sword and stave fighters. The Mayor welcomes them with open arms and RKP inflicts on Farr a poncey moment as he draws his knife, waves it above his head in an Action Pose and yells "Let our enemies beware!", luckily he calms down in time to sneer at Emo, Hal and Stella as they come in:
"Are these the rest of your companions? But these are mere children!' he let slip the knife and it dropped to his side, 'Do we go as fighters or as nursemaids?"
Wira calls Hal and Emo determined and then goes gooey eyed over Stella, calling her "a woman of rare beauty.". Thus we discover Wira's second purpose in the story, to be a love rival for Emo in Stella's affections. Unfortunately for him, it has been obvious since the start that Emo and Stella are Designated Love Interests and, in the mind of the author if no one else, made for one another. This doesn't stop Wira/Stella being my ship for this book.
Wira rebukes Farr some more, telling him that they have their chance for revenge and what more does he want, so shut up and stop moaning. Farr acts like a petulant child, lowering his head and mumbling indistinctly. Wira and Stella gaze into one another's eyes, and Emo looks on in impotent jealousy.
That night Emo has a prescient vision of his mother and father in captivity. Unfortunately the Bhrudwans spot him and he only just wakes up before they carve him up. Could this be the Realm of Fire at work do you think? I suspect so.
The next morning, the five are given swords by the people of Mjolkbridge. The Major needs a small blade because of his girth, apparently, while Stella tries to pick up an ornamental sword nailed to the table, and Wira supposedly rescues her from embarrasment by explaining this. It is enough to make him "gaze at him with grateful eyes." I understand why RKP is trying so (too) hard to set these two up, but it isn't working, we still know that Emo and Stella are Designated Love Interests. Hell I told the plot to a friend who doesn't even read much fantasy and she realised that Emo and Stella were Designated Love Interests.
Last Hal and Emo take swords, in a scene that gives me a slight sense of deja vu. See if you can spot why:
"Hal dug deeper into the pile, finding some old, rusted blade.
'These will do,' he cried, forcing one into it's scabbard. He took another passed it to [Emo]. Even with all the rust it felt very light.
'You don't want to bother with rusty old blades like those!' the [Mayor] told the boys.
'On the contrary,' corrected the Haufuth of Mjolkbridge, 'those blades were fashioned for use in the war against Bhrudwo...they're over a thousand years old. We can't make them like these now. They are true blades, and have a history.'"
Now where I have seen something like this before, hmm, oh yes I know, it's the bit in Lord of the Rings where the hobbits take Barrow Blades from the Wight's tomb, blades that turn out to have been forged in Arnor, and "wound about with spells for the bane of Angmar." and better quality than anything else they might have gotten. Now here we have ancient swords forged to fight the Great Enemy, beyond the skill of modern smith's to make and very good quality despite their age. I know the scene is nowhere near an exact paralell but I think it's safe to say this where Kirkpatrick got the idea from. I wonder if these swords will come in handy against the Lords of Fear?
The company waste time pratting around practicing mock swordplay with thier new weapons, and Farr takes the piss:
"The horsemen are in danger all right, one look at you fools and they'll die laughing!"
Ah, so they did have a plan all along! Nice to finally know what it is.
Hal plays along with the mockery, naming his sword 'Ribtickler'. Someone not quite as cool as Sting, don't you agree. Emo just wishes he'd thought of a clever name for his sword.
The Magnificent Seven ride off down the Westway, and the chapter ends.