The Hunter's Arrow
The stench of decay and sulfur in the air was really starting to get to the two men that were chained to the lone iron pole. The pole was located in front of a dark cave that has been exhaling smoke for hours now as well as pure heat as if the sun was right in front of the two men instead of the cave. All around them were bones of animals and people, some still had bits of flesh on them. One of the two man, a man of Cruthin descent , gave a big sigh and loosely flipped his head over his shoulder to look at his partner.
“Don’t say it.”
The cruthin gave a dry chuckled. “ Oh no, dove. We can handle a simple dragon. They really are just big ole lizards with really heated breaths.” He sucked at his teeth and looked at the sky above the two. Sweat glistering over his tattooed forehead.
“You do the worst impression of me ever, Wey.” The other man grumbled out, twisting his wrists around in the shackles. This man was once a scholar and a physician but now he was a Hunter. Mostly he hunted down facts and images of bizarre creatures all over the land. Some where along the way, the cruthin Weylin hitched along for the ride.
“Well, Dock.” Wey tugged hard, grunting then kicking at the ashy ground below. “A’ll be sure to practice a lot more when we’re no shackled to an fucking pole!” He threw his head back, beads and feathers jumbled around among the russet hair as he shouted to the sky.
The ground shock, two pairs of eyes opened wide with terror, as a slow growl responded to the cruthin’s burst of temper. Maddock could feel his partner shivering with fright as he heard the fast breathing through the other’s nose.
“Dock, next time you wanna brag about my magical powers and how virgins ain really a favorite dragon food. I’m so jus leaving your drunken ass in the bar.” He licked his lips and pulled on the restrains more, terror quickly taking over.
Maddock chuckled as his mismatched eyes just stared into the dark craven before them as the smoke intensified. “You tried that already my friend, that is why you have a big knot at the back of your head.” They needed the cruthin to get more scared, just enough to bring forth some life-saving magical ability.
Sweat formed more upon the men‘s bodies, damping the short fine black hair and the long russet hair framing their faces. Weylin’s booted feet kicked, scraping at the ash that covered the ground as the earth shook more as the dragon that lived in the cave stomped its way out for the afternoon meal.
“Please please, Great Mother. Please save your faithful son.” Maddock heard his friend’s pleading mantra and hoped that his only true magical ability would be activated before they become the more recent meal. For Weylin had the power to cause creatures to just explode but under extreme duress. Much like when his accent becomes much more understandable. Too bad he can be scared all the time, it would really be a blessing on everyone’s ears.
He really hoped it would happen very, very soon. Like now, just as the giant reptilian beast filled out the craven’s mouth. He almost swore that he saw its forked tongue licking its scaly mouth. The air went still around them as the cruthin panted, falling to ground as far as his shackles would let him. The beast tilted its almond shaped head, feeling the change in the atmosphere as it would seem.
Then in a blink, the dragon was an exploding mass of blood, scales and bone. The air came to alive again as dragon bits fell all around and on the two men. Maddock sighed, his head fell forward against his chest. At least the beast didn’t let out an breath of fire like the last one had done. He really missed his old goat-skinned coat with the ivory buttons.
He rolled his head to see that the younger man had passed out after all the excitement has passed. Normally was the cause whenever the use of his odd power was call to action. They all were lucky that the man knew how to direct his power at the right object or they would have a very short partnership. “Oh Weylin. You call yourself a man of great courage.” Maddock smiled at the youthful face, noting how young his friend was really even compared to him. He grunted as he squirmed around and lowered down to pluck out a pin from the younger man’s hair that kept the rat’s nest of beads, feathers and hair back from his face with his teeth. The removal of the hair pin let the mentioned mess to fall over the smooth pale face and shoulders of Weylin. The pull caused the muscles in his arms to groan and ach at such of action. He straighten up and reached as far as he could to his left hand for the fingers to pick the long thin pin from his teeth.
He was getting too old for this things and really how was he to know that the village’s governor was in that very bar when he was making his boosts to the lovely woman with the very huge bosoms and the tightest yellow dress he ever did see. He very much doubted a seven annuals old girl could wear that modestly and the scholar wouldn’t want the child would. Maddock hummed a bit as his fingers twisted the pin around, unlocking the lock in the shackle of his right wrist. In this business, he had found it was prudent to know how to pick many types of locks. Between the brazen attitude of the cruthin and his own boastful nature, they regularity found themselves in locked cells and/or shackles. However being chained to a pole as a offering to a great beast such as a dragon. That doesn’t really happen as much as one would think.
The shackles clicked open at the end of the verse of the little drinking ditty that the dark-haired man was humming and with a sigh, he rubbed his wrists and took a really good look around at his surroundings and brushed off some dragon innards off his coat with much distaste. Pretty soon scavengers were going start coming in and that will not be a pretty thing. He moved to be couching down in front of his friend, pulling away as much as the dragon flesh as he could before lightly slapping at the damp and messy cheeks to wake him.
Eye lids gently quivered as a groan was let out from the full pale lips. Almond shaped pale green eyes opened but still glassy looking, unfocused . Maddock begin to worried if the fighting from before being chained to the pole and the large bang on the head from someone’s club combined with the use of his odd ability had done some unsettlingly effect on the young cruthin. He forced the right eye lid back and stare deeply to look for signs of a concussion or anything else. Then the cruthin groan loudly as the eye lost it glassiness and shook his head around.
“Get off you old man! I’m not into your sick ways!” Maddock sighed and patted the russet head happily that he didn’t have to drag the unconscious body to the very same village that just condemned them both to be a dragon’s meal. Just because he couldn’t just let the brunet call him an old pervert man, not in those exact words but the idea was there, the scholar man quickly cupped the fussy man’s jaw and pressed his chapped lips against the full lips in a mocking kiss.
“Do shut up once in a while, you little cur runt.” He chuckled before raising up to free Weylin’s wrists. The offended man was too busy cursing about the feel of a man lips against his own and Maddock’s mother and grandmother to really have notice anything else.
But he was aware enough that his wrists were soon free and rubbed the blood back into his arms and wrists as the scholar was helping with the pining back the tangle mess of beads, feathers and hair. Maddock often wonder if traditions were such a good thing to follow when the long hair was more of a handful to keep up with. Last time he even mentioned the idea of a haircut to the young man, Weylin gave him the silent treatment as well as almost let the troll injured the scholar with its bone club. Luckily he gave up the childish act and let an arrow imbedded into the troll’s fleshy head before serious injuries could happen. To the dark brunet, the troll needed to die. It already married and ate five brides before the both of them arrived onto the scene.
“So a bah and a wash of duh clothes firs or we look for duh princesses?” The younger of the Hunting duo stood up, picking innards and scales off of his long sleeveless coat .
“I say option number one. I don’t want to roam the countryside, smelling like rotting meat all day.” Maddock picked at a eyelash that was being stubborn.
“Dun pick your lashes, Dock. It’s disgusting.” the green-eyes man groaned in disapproval, arms bended behind the russet hair and looked around for an easy exist out of the yard of death.
“Whelp, mind your own.” The scholar muttered as he headed out, seeing the worn pathway where the villagers had been using to drag unwilling virgins up to their deaths. No more they won’t, now the fat beast was dead. That was one good thing that came from this misadventure. No more young maidens being killed in the green of their lives.
Weylin wasn’t too far behind, leaf-colored eyes watching the vultures and crows circling in and landing on the bones and hearing the wild dogs barking, announcing their arrival. Symbolizing the end of a long decade of terror and life was allow to continue on as the clouds above them start thundering. To wash away the landmark of death. He muttered a quick prayer to the Great Mother and to the Old Crone to take pity on the souls of the young women that had lost their lives on this land.
-------
It was Weylin that had spotted the crystal river first. Maddock had long decided that cruthin blood just acts as a magnetic for water as well for little furry creatures. But he wasn’t one to complained as he stood waist deep in the cool water, washing away blood and scales from his wool coat. His green cotton tunic shirt was stretched out on a large slab of rock to dry, right next to his stockings and boots. The cruthin was freely naked a few feet away, washing his russet hair after he had washed his shirts and black skin tight breeches, leaving his long deer-skin coat to last. A bowl was set out on the brink of the river to hold all the beads and feathers he had collected in his hair for years, since birth most likely.
After the hair wash, Maddock would have to help the younger man with his hair as he always does. At the start of this arrangement, he was worried at getting so skilled at platting and beading hair. But now, he knew that it would all just end up being a mess without his help. Rubbing through the buzz of his own hair, he thought mostly of the state of their things and their horses. Hopefully the horses were smart enough to wait around at the outskirts of the village with the most of their packs. No hope was given for their money pouches since they were missing when they were chained to the pole a good two hours ago.
So moneyless once again, they no doubt have to brave the elements of the woods for the night. He titled his head up to have a look at the clouds. “Will it rain and storm?” He asked out loud. His partner looked over his tattooed shoulder at the older man with heavy damp hair over his face. His hands pushed the wet locks away from his face and looked up at the sky as well.
“Naw it won.” The cruthin said after a good minute and flipped his hair back over his face to combed out the tangles, making sure to get everything out that didn’t need to be clinging to the fiery brown locks. Then the man slipped into the water to smooth back the hair back over his skull.
“That’s a good cause we won’t be able to stay at an inn tonight, even if we do recover the princesses.” The scholar walked out of the still water, wringing out his coat and laid it to dry before sitting down on the grass, legs stretched out and arms propping his upper body up as the head fell back. Allowing the warm mid-spring sun dry his wet and wary body. Before the bath and wash of clothes, he already did assessment of injuries and minus the bump on his friend’s head and a cut on his own arm, it was a mess of bruises around the wrists and the torso. Nothing that they haven’t experience before or will experience in the future. They got off lucky this time.
The cruthin, once satisfied with the cleaning of his hair, stepped close enough to grab his sleeveless long coat and dragged it into the water. Soon little rabbits and chipmunks started to gather at the river edge. They were just watching Weylin curse lightly under his breath as scrubbed a lump of soap against the coat then ducking it into the water, rubbing his hands against the smooth surface to get it clean.
Two sounds of neighing and snorts and hooves clicking against the earth and rock alerted the two men of the on-coming of horses. Weylin chuckled and threw his coat on the grass as he splashed out of the water to greet his little chestnut sweetheart. He cupped the light brown muzzle and rubbed his face against the soft snort, touching white marked forehead to his own blue marked forehead.
“I say it again, only way to hunt is with a cruthin. At least the horses will be loyal to one.” Maddock spoke as he came up from behind then went for his own little dun mare, petting under her jaw and then check the packs.
“Hehe, my little girl always loyal to her papa.” Weylin chuckled and went to remove the saddle and harness and the saddle blanket and everything else to allow his little princess to be as naked as the cruthin himself. He clicked his tongue as he nudged her to the water for a drink and a bath. The little furry creatures scattered to the bushes as man and horse splashed into the water.
He looked up when a little neigh rang into the air and chuckled at the sight a little black pony, trotting down to the dun mare. Skittish and hide on the other side of the mare, away from the scholar. “Looky, Estelle has a lil friend.”
The little black pony snorted nervously and wandering her head back and forth. Estelle snorted calmingly and nodded her head flinging it back at the little creature.
“Just what I need, another child to keep up.” Maddock sighed, digging in one of the food packs for a carrot, sniffing at it for freshness and moved slowly to couched down to the little pony. “Come, pretty. Uncle Maddock just wants to give you a carrot.” He clicked his tongue and waved the carrot around, giving the pony space and time to accept the offering treat.
Weylin chuckled at the sight as he poured water onto his own mare, whispering praises and sweet comments. He may be from cruthin blood but Maddock has the true gift of calming creatures and little children and making them love him. He smiled as the little black stepped carefully sniffing and then chopping down the carrot, letting the older man pet up into the wild long mane and over the spring dark coat that was shedding for the warm days ahead.
“That’s it little darling. That’s a good girl.” Maddock whispered as he checked over the little animal for any cuts or sores before moving slowly so not the spook her to get another carrot and then removed the load on his dun mare’s back and led her and the little pony to the river.
“So wha’s her name, Unkle Dock?” He left the chestnut mare to play on her own in the water and went back to his task of washing his coat.
“Gem.” Maddock responded, grabbing a brush from one of the packs and begin to rub down the little mare as she drank the cool water. He smiled as the little pony trotted a bit in to follow Estelle into the river but trotted back when the larger mare nudged her back to the bank when the water was getting too high for her. The mare already marked the pony as her own and now they were stuck with the little black.
A hawk screeched and then landed on Caru’s saddle horn. It wore green and gold ribbons around one of the ankles. Some lord’s hunting hawk. Maddock stood up and clicked his tongue for his princess to come out of the water as he pulled on his tunic and stockings, pulling his old sword out to stick into the earth for when a battle to break out as he heard the thunderous sound of hooves coming from the east. Weylin nudged his own mare back on the bank and quickly got dress, and sticking arrows into the earth. Then pinned his still damp hair back off his face.
“Hello travelers, I see that you two are making yourself welcome in my land.” An old man riding upon a white horse with a black snort, dressed in green and gold riding clothes with a gold band across his head to mark himself as King.
“Hello, sire.” Maddock stepped forward, strapping his belt around his waist, nodding his head in respect. Weylin just stayed back, sitting a large rock with his bow in one hand and the other hand tapping on his thigh. “I’m Maddock Sloan, scholar and physician and hunter of the bizarre. My friend there.” He flipped a hand back over his shoulder at the silent cruthin. “He’s Weylin Doy. He’s just an hunter and makes a good berry pie.” He chuckled, the king’s guards join in once their lord started chuckling as well. Only a young man that shared the King’s royal blue eyes stayed silent upon his dark horse, watchful at the cruthin. Taking in the blue marking on his forearm and forehead.
“He’s cruthin. Thought that they receded into the wildness of the Red Forest in the far north.” The young man stated. “Devolving back into animals.”
“Well this young buck has hitched himself to me a few years back, turns out his usefulness outweigh the troubles.” The scholar stepped in between of the riding party and his friend, while keeping close to his own weapon.
The King nodded before introducing himself as Charles Clayhorn and the young redhead with his eyes as August Clayhorn, son and heir to the Kingdom of Ledgeway. “Now you say you’re a physician, mister Sloan. My own just been taken last winter. It was rough for us all, more so on the old and the very young.” The old blue eyes looked upon the tall man, taking in his civilized statue and proud head.
“I am very sorry to hear that, sire but-”
“You replace him and I forgive you and your servant for trespassing onto my lands and hunting without my permission and won’t throw you both in my dungeons.” The old King spoken, not hearing the younger man speaking and stared down into the mismatched eyes.
The cruthin behind him stood up and all but the king and his son draw out their swords and pointed their spears at the two man. Maddock chuckled uneasily and held up his hands, asking for a minute to discuss this with his partner.
“We are beyond screwed here, even you aren’t that skilled with the bow Wey.” He hanged an arm around the tensed shoulders and pulled the younger man in to talk quietly.
“We play good boys till we can get the fuck out?” The light green eyes kept their watch on the King’s man. Fingers playing with the string of the rowan wood bow.
“Hells, right now I’m willing to put on a colorful dress and play bedmate for the old man. That’s Charlie the ax.” He rolled his eyes and rubbed his nose when the green eyes looked at him in confusion. “He killed people for grabbing rams that skipped onto his land.” He spoke in a harsh whisper. “I do not want to spend a hour in his dudgeons, Wey.”
Weylin nodded and dropped his bow and pulled out his arrows from the earth to put back into the quiver. Maddock walked back to the King and his men. “We accept your offer, kind sir.” He folded his hands and bowed his head. Then he held up two fingers from his left hand. “May I ask for two hours to gather our things, you just came in just we were finishing up a bath. We just had a dragon encounter and we had no choice to kill it before it could eat us.” He smiled pleadingly.
The old King nodded before speaking. “I’ll leave you with some of my men to make sure that you and that cur don’t try to back out of our deal.” Then he forced his horse to turn and kicked at its sides after signaling for half of his party to stay behind. “August?” He stopped his horse when he saw his son wasn’t riding out with him.
“I’ll stay behind to make sure that the cruthin doesn’t try any spells.” He spoke soberly as blue and green stared at each other in a heated glare.
“So be it.” Clayhorn kicked at the horse’s sides once more and cantor off with half of the men following behind.
“Right, excuse us Prince.” Maddock nodded and whistled for the cruthin’s attention as he walked over to pick up the bowl of beads and feathers. The younger man nodded and sat down on the large rock. He slide in behind and went to work on the russet hair.
One of the guards climbed down from his horse, walking towards to the two men as Gem trotted up to Weylin’s hand at the clicking sounds from his mouth. He had black hair long and shaved at the sides with the ends platted with silver, green and gold beads at the ends. Dark eyes smiling at wary green as he couched down to pet at the skittish pony girl.
“I have my square do that for me.” He pointed at the scholar’s skillful fingers weaving in the fiery brown locks. “I’m part cruthin me self but my father only kept up the long hair tradition and the markings. I copied the hairstyle but the idea of ink needling into me skin makes me uneasy.”
Maddock tightly pulled a hair to remind the younger man to keep a civil tongue for the time being. Taking the action in mind, Weylin sighed and closed his eyes before speaking. “My ma did the inking. She told me that it connects us to the Earth and the Great mother.” His fingers combed through the dark coarse mane of the pony as she nibbled at the grass by his feet.
The guard nodded and extended a hand at the young man. “Me name is Grayson, I’m the Prince’s first guard.” Said prince had climbed off his own dark stallion and walked up to the watchful hawk, holding out an arm for it, ordering it to come. “Weylin, it means the son of the wolf. Am I right?” He chuckled at the green eyes fast snapping up at him.
“He’s more like the son of the otter. “ Maddock chuckled, eyes never looking up from the task of beading and putting the feathers among the braids. “He can pick point any location of large bodies or water and could just nap on his back in the water.”
“A river rat then.” The prince snorted as he fed his hawk bits of meat from a little pouch on his belt and started to preen among the grey feathers.
The scholar quickly grabbed his friend’s shoulder to bring him back down and talked before the other could say a word that would land them headless. “My lord, what a gorgeous bird. May I inquired his name.”
August rubbed a finger under the prideful bird’s chin. “Pride.” He responded, royal blue rolled away to stare down at heated green. “Raised him from the egg, answers only to me.”
“A servant with wings then. At least my darlin’ Caru is loyal to me not because of blind bondage but because she loves me.” The cruthin looked back in challenge as he held a hand for his princess to rub her muzzle against his palm.
“A horse is a stupid but noble creature. A hawk is a bit more of a challenge to make loyal.” He gave a snide little smirk, nose tilted up at the man.
Maddock cursed as Weylin jumped up in anger and rushed at the prince, wrists quickly grabbed from behind as the prince’s guard tried to hold him back from hitting the young man. “You little brat, you are nothing without your father’s name. At least, my name means more out here in the real world outside your father’s walls.” He spit the words out, dragging Grayson with him as he shoved his face up close to the prince’s own.
The other guards jumped to action and held their blades against the man’s neck, awaiting words from their leader. He pushed away the blades as he stared back at the fuming green eyes. “A cruthin’s name means mud out here either within my father’s walls or outside of them. Get your master to finish your hair, little river rat.” He flicked at the narrow nose and turned his back to walk away.
Greyson moved up to pushed his hands against the growling man’s chest, whispering. “Let it be, let it be. Just ruffling your feathers, ignore him now.” Weylin shoved the hands off of him and stomped back to the rock.
Maddock sighed and tugged him back down by the ends of his hair tightly and harshly. “Please I want to live to make to thirty-five.” He whispered harshly in his childish friend’s ear, pulling tightly on the hair as he finishing up the task. Light blue and black looked up to see royal blue eyes staring back at them as the prince lean against a tree trunk, rubbing fingers into the soft feathers.
He quickly looked down, feeling his heart speed up and tried to calm it down. In the nearby future, he would have to keep his cruthin friend and the prince from each other just long enough to get away. This morning it was a dragon they had to be worry about. Tonight it will be a tyrant and his brat of a son. He could feel his dark hair turning grey.
Too bad he couldn’t allow his friend to blow them all up. He could imagine their faces on a wanted poster before nightfall from killing a king and his kingdom.
“Don’t say it.”
The cruthin gave a dry chuckled. “ Oh no, dove. We can handle a simple dragon. They really are just big ole lizards with really heated breaths.” He sucked at his teeth and looked at the sky above the two. Sweat glistering over his tattooed forehead.
“You do the worst impression of me ever, Wey.” The other man grumbled out, twisting his wrists around in the shackles. This man was once a scholar and a physician but now he was a Hunter. Mostly he hunted down facts and images of bizarre creatures all over the land. Some where along the way, the cruthin Weylin hitched along for the ride.
“Well, Dock.” Wey tugged hard, grunting then kicking at the ashy ground below. “A’ll be sure to practice a lot more when we’re no shackled to an fucking pole!” He threw his head back, beads and feathers jumbled around among the russet hair as he shouted to the sky.
The ground shock, two pairs of eyes opened wide with terror, as a slow growl responded to the cruthin’s burst of temper. Maddock could feel his partner shivering with fright as he heard the fast breathing through the other’s nose.
“Dock, next time you wanna brag about my magical powers and how virgins ain really a favorite dragon food. I’m so jus leaving your drunken ass in the bar.” He licked his lips and pulled on the restrains more, terror quickly taking over.
Maddock chuckled as his mismatched eyes just stared into the dark craven before them as the smoke intensified. “You tried that already my friend, that is why you have a big knot at the back of your head.” They needed the cruthin to get more scared, just enough to bring forth some life-saving magical ability.
Sweat formed more upon the men‘s bodies, damping the short fine black hair and the long russet hair framing their faces. Weylin’s booted feet kicked, scraping at the ash that covered the ground as the earth shook more as the dragon that lived in the cave stomped its way out for the afternoon meal.
“Please please, Great Mother. Please save your faithful son.” Maddock heard his friend’s pleading mantra and hoped that his only true magical ability would be activated before they become the more recent meal. For Weylin had the power to cause creatures to just explode but under extreme duress. Much like when his accent becomes much more understandable. Too bad he can be scared all the time, it would really be a blessing on everyone’s ears.
He really hoped it would happen very, very soon. Like now, just as the giant reptilian beast filled out the craven’s mouth. He almost swore that he saw its forked tongue licking its scaly mouth. The air went still around them as the cruthin panted, falling to ground as far as his shackles would let him. The beast tilted its almond shaped head, feeling the change in the atmosphere as it would seem.
Then in a blink, the dragon was an exploding mass of blood, scales and bone. The air came to alive again as dragon bits fell all around and on the two men. Maddock sighed, his head fell forward against his chest. At least the beast didn’t let out an breath of fire like the last one had done. He really missed his old goat-skinned coat with the ivory buttons.
He rolled his head to see that the younger man had passed out after all the excitement has passed. Normally was the cause whenever the use of his odd power was call to action. They all were lucky that the man knew how to direct his power at the right object or they would have a very short partnership. “Oh Weylin. You call yourself a man of great courage.” Maddock smiled at the youthful face, noting how young his friend was really even compared to him. He grunted as he squirmed around and lowered down to pluck out a pin from the younger man’s hair that kept the rat’s nest of beads, feathers and hair back from his face with his teeth. The removal of the hair pin let the mentioned mess to fall over the smooth pale face and shoulders of Weylin. The pull caused the muscles in his arms to groan and ach at such of action. He straighten up and reached as far as he could to his left hand for the fingers to pick the long thin pin from his teeth.
He was getting too old for this things and really how was he to know that the village’s governor was in that very bar when he was making his boosts to the lovely woman with the very huge bosoms and the tightest yellow dress he ever did see. He very much doubted a seven annuals old girl could wear that modestly and the scholar wouldn’t want the child would. Maddock hummed a bit as his fingers twisted the pin around, unlocking the lock in the shackle of his right wrist. In this business, he had found it was prudent to know how to pick many types of locks. Between the brazen attitude of the cruthin and his own boastful nature, they regularity found themselves in locked cells and/or shackles. However being chained to a pole as a offering to a great beast such as a dragon. That doesn’t really happen as much as one would think.
The shackles clicked open at the end of the verse of the little drinking ditty that the dark-haired man was humming and with a sigh, he rubbed his wrists and took a really good look around at his surroundings and brushed off some dragon innards off his coat with much distaste. Pretty soon scavengers were going start coming in and that will not be a pretty thing. He moved to be couching down in front of his friend, pulling away as much as the dragon flesh as he could before lightly slapping at the damp and messy cheeks to wake him.
Eye lids gently quivered as a groan was let out from the full pale lips. Almond shaped pale green eyes opened but still glassy looking, unfocused . Maddock begin to worried if the fighting from before being chained to the pole and the large bang on the head from someone’s club combined with the use of his odd ability had done some unsettlingly effect on the young cruthin. He forced the right eye lid back and stare deeply to look for signs of a concussion or anything else. Then the cruthin groan loudly as the eye lost it glassiness and shook his head around.
“Get off you old man! I’m not into your sick ways!” Maddock sighed and patted the russet head happily that he didn’t have to drag the unconscious body to the very same village that just condemned them both to be a dragon’s meal. Just because he couldn’t just let the brunet call him an old pervert man, not in those exact words but the idea was there, the scholar man quickly cupped the fussy man’s jaw and pressed his chapped lips against the full lips in a mocking kiss.
“Do shut up once in a while, you little cur runt.” He chuckled before raising up to free Weylin’s wrists. The offended man was too busy cursing about the feel of a man lips against his own and Maddock’s mother and grandmother to really have notice anything else.
But he was aware enough that his wrists were soon free and rubbed the blood back into his arms and wrists as the scholar was helping with the pining back the tangle mess of beads, feathers and hair. Maddock often wonder if traditions were such a good thing to follow when the long hair was more of a handful to keep up with. Last time he even mentioned the idea of a haircut to the young man, Weylin gave him the silent treatment as well as almost let the troll injured the scholar with its bone club. Luckily he gave up the childish act and let an arrow imbedded into the troll’s fleshy head before serious injuries could happen. To the dark brunet, the troll needed to die. It already married and ate five brides before the both of them arrived onto the scene.
“So a bah and a wash of duh clothes firs or we look for duh princesses?” The younger of the Hunting duo stood up, picking innards and scales off of his long sleeveless coat .
“I say option number one. I don’t want to roam the countryside, smelling like rotting meat all day.” Maddock picked at a eyelash that was being stubborn.
“Dun pick your lashes, Dock. It’s disgusting.” the green-eyes man groaned in disapproval, arms bended behind the russet hair and looked around for an easy exist out of the yard of death.
“Whelp, mind your own.” The scholar muttered as he headed out, seeing the worn pathway where the villagers had been using to drag unwilling virgins up to their deaths. No more they won’t, now the fat beast was dead. That was one good thing that came from this misadventure. No more young maidens being killed in the green of their lives.
Weylin wasn’t too far behind, leaf-colored eyes watching the vultures and crows circling in and landing on the bones and hearing the wild dogs barking, announcing their arrival. Symbolizing the end of a long decade of terror and life was allow to continue on as the clouds above them start thundering. To wash away the landmark of death. He muttered a quick prayer to the Great Mother and to the Old Crone to take pity on the souls of the young women that had lost their lives on this land.
-------
It was Weylin that had spotted the crystal river first. Maddock had long decided that cruthin blood just acts as a magnetic for water as well for little furry creatures. But he wasn’t one to complained as he stood waist deep in the cool water, washing away blood and scales from his wool coat. His green cotton tunic shirt was stretched out on a large slab of rock to dry, right next to his stockings and boots. The cruthin was freely naked a few feet away, washing his russet hair after he had washed his shirts and black skin tight breeches, leaving his long deer-skin coat to last. A bowl was set out on the brink of the river to hold all the beads and feathers he had collected in his hair for years, since birth most likely.
After the hair wash, Maddock would have to help the younger man with his hair as he always does. At the start of this arrangement, he was worried at getting so skilled at platting and beading hair. But now, he knew that it would all just end up being a mess without his help. Rubbing through the buzz of his own hair, he thought mostly of the state of their things and their horses. Hopefully the horses were smart enough to wait around at the outskirts of the village with the most of their packs. No hope was given for their money pouches since they were missing when they were chained to the pole a good two hours ago.
So moneyless once again, they no doubt have to brave the elements of the woods for the night. He titled his head up to have a look at the clouds. “Will it rain and storm?” He asked out loud. His partner looked over his tattooed shoulder at the older man with heavy damp hair over his face. His hands pushed the wet locks away from his face and looked up at the sky as well.
“Naw it won.” The cruthin said after a good minute and flipped his hair back over his face to combed out the tangles, making sure to get everything out that didn’t need to be clinging to the fiery brown locks. Then the man slipped into the water to smooth back the hair back over his skull.
“That’s a good cause we won’t be able to stay at an inn tonight, even if we do recover the princesses.” The scholar walked out of the still water, wringing out his coat and laid it to dry before sitting down on the grass, legs stretched out and arms propping his upper body up as the head fell back. Allowing the warm mid-spring sun dry his wet and wary body. Before the bath and wash of clothes, he already did assessment of injuries and minus the bump on his friend’s head and a cut on his own arm, it was a mess of bruises around the wrists and the torso. Nothing that they haven’t experience before or will experience in the future. They got off lucky this time.
The cruthin, once satisfied with the cleaning of his hair, stepped close enough to grab his sleeveless long coat and dragged it into the water. Soon little rabbits and chipmunks started to gather at the river edge. They were just watching Weylin curse lightly under his breath as scrubbed a lump of soap against the coat then ducking it into the water, rubbing his hands against the smooth surface to get it clean.
Two sounds of neighing and snorts and hooves clicking against the earth and rock alerted the two men of the on-coming of horses. Weylin chuckled and threw his coat on the grass as he splashed out of the water to greet his little chestnut sweetheart. He cupped the light brown muzzle and rubbed his face against the soft snort, touching white marked forehead to his own blue marked forehead.
“I say it again, only way to hunt is with a cruthin. At least the horses will be loyal to one.” Maddock spoke as he came up from behind then went for his own little dun mare, petting under her jaw and then check the packs.
“Hehe, my little girl always loyal to her papa.” Weylin chuckled and went to remove the saddle and harness and the saddle blanket and everything else to allow his little princess to be as naked as the cruthin himself. He clicked his tongue as he nudged her to the water for a drink and a bath. The little furry creatures scattered to the bushes as man and horse splashed into the water.
He looked up when a little neigh rang into the air and chuckled at the sight a little black pony, trotting down to the dun mare. Skittish and hide on the other side of the mare, away from the scholar. “Looky, Estelle has a lil friend.”
The little black pony snorted nervously and wandering her head back and forth. Estelle snorted calmingly and nodded her head flinging it back at the little creature.
“Just what I need, another child to keep up.” Maddock sighed, digging in one of the food packs for a carrot, sniffing at it for freshness and moved slowly to couched down to the little pony. “Come, pretty. Uncle Maddock just wants to give you a carrot.” He clicked his tongue and waved the carrot around, giving the pony space and time to accept the offering treat.
Weylin chuckled at the sight as he poured water onto his own mare, whispering praises and sweet comments. He may be from cruthin blood but Maddock has the true gift of calming creatures and little children and making them love him. He smiled as the little black stepped carefully sniffing and then chopping down the carrot, letting the older man pet up into the wild long mane and over the spring dark coat that was shedding for the warm days ahead.
“That’s it little darling. That’s a good girl.” Maddock whispered as he checked over the little animal for any cuts or sores before moving slowly so not the spook her to get another carrot and then removed the load on his dun mare’s back and led her and the little pony to the river.
“So wha’s her name, Unkle Dock?” He left the chestnut mare to play on her own in the water and went back to his task of washing his coat.
“Gem.” Maddock responded, grabbing a brush from one of the packs and begin to rub down the little mare as she drank the cool water. He smiled as the little pony trotted a bit in to follow Estelle into the river but trotted back when the larger mare nudged her back to the bank when the water was getting too high for her. The mare already marked the pony as her own and now they were stuck with the little black.
A hawk screeched and then landed on Caru’s saddle horn. It wore green and gold ribbons around one of the ankles. Some lord’s hunting hawk. Maddock stood up and clicked his tongue for his princess to come out of the water as he pulled on his tunic and stockings, pulling his old sword out to stick into the earth for when a battle to break out as he heard the thunderous sound of hooves coming from the east. Weylin nudged his own mare back on the bank and quickly got dress, and sticking arrows into the earth. Then pinned his still damp hair back off his face.
“Hello travelers, I see that you two are making yourself welcome in my land.” An old man riding upon a white horse with a black snort, dressed in green and gold riding clothes with a gold band across his head to mark himself as King.
“Hello, sire.” Maddock stepped forward, strapping his belt around his waist, nodding his head in respect. Weylin just stayed back, sitting a large rock with his bow in one hand and the other hand tapping on his thigh. “I’m Maddock Sloan, scholar and physician and hunter of the bizarre. My friend there.” He flipped a hand back over his shoulder at the silent cruthin. “He’s Weylin Doy. He’s just an hunter and makes a good berry pie.” He chuckled, the king’s guards join in once their lord started chuckling as well. Only a young man that shared the King’s royal blue eyes stayed silent upon his dark horse, watchful at the cruthin. Taking in the blue marking on his forearm and forehead.
“He’s cruthin. Thought that they receded into the wildness of the Red Forest in the far north.” The young man stated. “Devolving back into animals.”
“Well this young buck has hitched himself to me a few years back, turns out his usefulness outweigh the troubles.” The scholar stepped in between of the riding party and his friend, while keeping close to his own weapon.
The King nodded before introducing himself as Charles Clayhorn and the young redhead with his eyes as August Clayhorn, son and heir to the Kingdom of Ledgeway. “Now you say you’re a physician, mister Sloan. My own just been taken last winter. It was rough for us all, more so on the old and the very young.” The old blue eyes looked upon the tall man, taking in his civilized statue and proud head.
“I am very sorry to hear that, sire but-”
“You replace him and I forgive you and your servant for trespassing onto my lands and hunting without my permission and won’t throw you both in my dungeons.” The old King spoken, not hearing the younger man speaking and stared down into the mismatched eyes.
The cruthin behind him stood up and all but the king and his son draw out their swords and pointed their spears at the two man. Maddock chuckled uneasily and held up his hands, asking for a minute to discuss this with his partner.
“We are beyond screwed here, even you aren’t that skilled with the bow Wey.” He hanged an arm around the tensed shoulders and pulled the younger man in to talk quietly.
“We play good boys till we can get the fuck out?” The light green eyes kept their watch on the King’s man. Fingers playing with the string of the rowan wood bow.
“Hells, right now I’m willing to put on a colorful dress and play bedmate for the old man. That’s Charlie the ax.” He rolled his eyes and rubbed his nose when the green eyes looked at him in confusion. “He killed people for grabbing rams that skipped onto his land.” He spoke in a harsh whisper. “I do not want to spend a hour in his dudgeons, Wey.”
Weylin nodded and dropped his bow and pulled out his arrows from the earth to put back into the quiver. Maddock walked back to the King and his men. “We accept your offer, kind sir.” He folded his hands and bowed his head. Then he held up two fingers from his left hand. “May I ask for two hours to gather our things, you just came in just we were finishing up a bath. We just had a dragon encounter and we had no choice to kill it before it could eat us.” He smiled pleadingly.
The old King nodded before speaking. “I’ll leave you with some of my men to make sure that you and that cur don’t try to back out of our deal.” Then he forced his horse to turn and kicked at its sides after signaling for half of his party to stay behind. “August?” He stopped his horse when he saw his son wasn’t riding out with him.
“I’ll stay behind to make sure that the cruthin doesn’t try any spells.” He spoke soberly as blue and green stared at each other in a heated glare.
“So be it.” Clayhorn kicked at the horse’s sides once more and cantor off with half of the men following behind.
“Right, excuse us Prince.” Maddock nodded and whistled for the cruthin’s attention as he walked over to pick up the bowl of beads and feathers. The younger man nodded and sat down on the large rock. He slide in behind and went to work on the russet hair.
One of the guards climbed down from his horse, walking towards to the two men as Gem trotted up to Weylin’s hand at the clicking sounds from his mouth. He had black hair long and shaved at the sides with the ends platted with silver, green and gold beads at the ends. Dark eyes smiling at wary green as he couched down to pet at the skittish pony girl.
“I have my square do that for me.” He pointed at the scholar’s skillful fingers weaving in the fiery brown locks. “I’m part cruthin me self but my father only kept up the long hair tradition and the markings. I copied the hairstyle but the idea of ink needling into me skin makes me uneasy.”
Maddock tightly pulled a hair to remind the younger man to keep a civil tongue for the time being. Taking the action in mind, Weylin sighed and closed his eyes before speaking. “My ma did the inking. She told me that it connects us to the Earth and the Great mother.” His fingers combed through the dark coarse mane of the pony as she nibbled at the grass by his feet.
The guard nodded and extended a hand at the young man. “Me name is Grayson, I’m the Prince’s first guard.” Said prince had climbed off his own dark stallion and walked up to the watchful hawk, holding out an arm for it, ordering it to come. “Weylin, it means the son of the wolf. Am I right?” He chuckled at the green eyes fast snapping up at him.
“He’s more like the son of the otter. “ Maddock chuckled, eyes never looking up from the task of beading and putting the feathers among the braids. “He can pick point any location of large bodies or water and could just nap on his back in the water.”
“A river rat then.” The prince snorted as he fed his hawk bits of meat from a little pouch on his belt and started to preen among the grey feathers.
The scholar quickly grabbed his friend’s shoulder to bring him back down and talked before the other could say a word that would land them headless. “My lord, what a gorgeous bird. May I inquired his name.”
August rubbed a finger under the prideful bird’s chin. “Pride.” He responded, royal blue rolled away to stare down at heated green. “Raised him from the egg, answers only to me.”
“A servant with wings then. At least my darlin’ Caru is loyal to me not because of blind bondage but because she loves me.” The cruthin looked back in challenge as he held a hand for his princess to rub her muzzle against his palm.
“A horse is a stupid but noble creature. A hawk is a bit more of a challenge to make loyal.” He gave a snide little smirk, nose tilted up at the man.
Maddock cursed as Weylin jumped up in anger and rushed at the prince, wrists quickly grabbed from behind as the prince’s guard tried to hold him back from hitting the young man. “You little brat, you are nothing without your father’s name. At least, my name means more out here in the real world outside your father’s walls.” He spit the words out, dragging Grayson with him as he shoved his face up close to the prince’s own.
The other guards jumped to action and held their blades against the man’s neck, awaiting words from their leader. He pushed away the blades as he stared back at the fuming green eyes. “A cruthin’s name means mud out here either within my father’s walls or outside of them. Get your master to finish your hair, little river rat.” He flicked at the narrow nose and turned his back to walk away.
Greyson moved up to pushed his hands against the growling man’s chest, whispering. “Let it be, let it be. Just ruffling your feathers, ignore him now.” Weylin shoved the hands off of him and stomped back to the rock.
Maddock sighed and tugged him back down by the ends of his hair tightly and harshly. “Please I want to live to make to thirty-five.” He whispered harshly in his childish friend’s ear, pulling tightly on the hair as he finishing up the task. Light blue and black looked up to see royal blue eyes staring back at them as the prince lean against a tree trunk, rubbing fingers into the soft feathers.
He quickly looked down, feeling his heart speed up and tried to calm it down. In the nearby future, he would have to keep his cruthin friend and the prince from each other just long enough to get away. This morning it was a dragon they had to be worry about. Tonight it will be a tyrant and his brat of a son. He could feel his dark hair turning grey.
Too bad he couldn’t allow his friend to blow them all up. He could imagine their faces on a wanted poster before nightfall from killing a king and his kingdom.