The Heiress of the Lake (7)

A dark romantic fantasy

Chapter 7: The Old Autumn

High King Morten looked at the messenger with complete indifference. The poor man grabbed on to his own throat, he gagged with blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. The High King held his hand raised at the man, his power over water allowed him to control the messengers blood flow, and if necessary - torture him by disrupting it. 

“My Lord, is it wise to torture this pathetic creature? He’s just a bearer of bad news. Please, don’t waste your strength!” Heron the Birdling sorcerer spoke from the dark of the hall and stepped into the candlelight. 

High King Morten released the messenger from his magic with a mere flick of the hand; the poor man fell to the floor coughing. Morten sighed idly.

“You’re such a killjoy, Heron! I hate bad news.”

“Your daughter?”

“The little bitch escaped Regnar. Those pesky Snakelings had something to do with it. If not for their excellent booze, I wouldn’t hesitate to wipe them off the land. I’ll send more soldiers to them.”

“Is it necessary, my Lord? The Heiress isn’t there anymore, is she?”

“Alright, I’ll send more men after her. I think I know where’s the little bitch is heading. You shall join Regnar in finding her. He is loyal, but not the wisest of creatures.”

“As you wish, my Lord! I’ll have to gather the Birdling blood for the infusion as well.”

“Do what you must! My Aurora has to be revived as soon as possible,” a flame flickered in Morten’s dark eyes. 

Heron bowed his grey head and paced out of the hall. 

***

“Lead the way, she said! Trust the snake, she said!” Marcian murmured angrily under his nose, while his lizzo half-swam, half waded through the black, muddy waters. The air had a distinct stench of sulphur. There were sulphur springs flowing from the ground around them. No Snakeling boots could hold back this much water; their feet felt wet through and through. Even worse - the dark mud stank terribly, their clothes were muddy up till their waists, and the stench made them dizzy. Auri was close to vomiting. 

“Where are we, snake?” Marci asked for the hundredth time, but Magnush kept quiet. He assessed their surroundings, but the further they went, the deeper and thicker the mud got. 

“There should be firmer ground soon,” he consoled his companions. 

“The lizards will go to sleep soon, we’ll drown in the mud, that’s what will happen,” Marcian grunted.

They had been travelling Northwest for two days and now it appeared not only was this way inaccessible to a large party, but for the three of them as well. 

“Magnush, do you know where we are?” Auri finally broke her silence; she had been too miserable to speak all morning. 

Magnush could not ignore her golden-amber eyes. 

“I know, but there was nothing in the map about this wretched muddy lowland. The Damned land isn’t all charted and holds many secrets.” 

“We should’ve gone West. I ‘d rather fight off all soldiers in Autumna than breathe in this stench any longer,” Marcian retorted. 

“We can’t turn back, Marci,” Auri objected.

All three comprehended their prospects were grim; their lizzos would lose all strength soon and with mud getting deeper and no firm ground beneath their feet, all of them could drown in the black stench. 

If that was not enough, an icy rain began to pour from the steel-grey clouds. After an hour in the freezing downpour Magnush shook like a lonely autumn leaf.

“You’re a warrior, can’t you stand a little cold?” Marcian asked. Although he was cold himself, the tall Autumnian had toughened up by his daily swims in the ice-cold pool of the Autumna castle. 

“He’s half-Snakeling. They’re sensitive to the cold, like snakes,” Auri defended him.

“How do Snakelings survive in the cold season?” Marci asked.

“We keep close to home,” Magnush answered gritting his teeth to stop them chattering. 

Auri’s lizzo gave in first. The exhausted animal could not go on further. The muddy blob around them got too deep for it to run, it had to swim, but the powerless animal just fell asleep on the move and began drowning. Auri shrieked and grabbed onto Magnush’s animal. There wasn’t any firm ground she could reach in the mud. Magnush’s lizzo was just as tired and with two riders on it, the lizzo began to sink.

“There must be firm ground here, there must!” Magnush grunted through his teeth. He was pale and freezing through and through. As his lizzo submerged under the black surface with bubbles coming up, Magnush nearly went down with it. Auri held his hand, Marcian grabbed hers. 

“Those reeds ahead, could there be firm ground under them?” he shouted, but nobody answered. Auri huffed and puffed wading in the muddy water, Magnush was nearly unconscious. Finally, Marcian’s lizzo gave into the weariness.

“Hold on, Frogling! Just a bit further!” he yelled pulling Auri along with him. The tall man managed to find some firm surface he could stand upon. Marci pulled Auri with all his strength. As they stumbled on a higher ground with reeds, Magnush’s hand slipped out of Auri’s grab. He fell asleep just like the lizzos and slowly slipped into the black, smelly mud.

“No! No, Magnush, wake up!” Auri screamed. Marcian dragged the girl to the land, left her and jumped back into the disgusting blob just in time to grab Magnush by the hair. He pulled the Snakeling out, and dragged him onto the muddy moss near Auri.

“Magnush, no! Please wake up! Please wake up!” Auri frantically cleaned the black mud off his lifeless face with her freezing hands. He did not move.

“No, no, he’s dead! No!” Auri cried. The rain washed away the mud off their faces while the three laid down on the shore powerless, waiting for death to come.

***

The heiress woke up from an old man’s laughter. The place was dimly lit by fire, it smelled of smoke, mold and moist soil. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a naked girl, that’s true,” the old man coughed and laughed. Marcian’s voice joined the laughter. 

Auri realised - she indeed was naked. Lying under layers and layers of blankets and a shaggy piece of wolverine’s fur. Somebody was sleeping next to her. Auri gave a muffled shriek; it was Magnush. He was naked and cold as ice. Marci laid by the Snakeling’s other side, reclining on his elbows to see the old man. 

“Frogling! You’re awake!” Marci exclaimed. 

“Is Magnush dead?”

“If he were a pure Snakeling, he would be. But the hot Autumnian blood does not freeze so easily. The children of the dragons have fire in their veins, don’t you know, lass?!” 

The old man sat by the fire. The reflections of the flames danced cheerfully on his wrinkled face. He indeed was extremely old, crouched in a bundle, with thin strands of white hair, moustache and a beard. 

“Who are you?”

“Before the lake flew away they called me the Old Autumn. And this was my island,” the old man smoked a pipe, “but now, my island is just a spot of firm land in a puddle of mud. At least I still have my shack. A very good shack it is!” Old Autumn gave a proud nod.

Auri looked around; it wasn’t a shack, it was a moldy hole in the ground. She could even see roots lurking from the walls. 

“Will Magnush be alright?” her sight stopped at his pale face. 

“As long as you two help him warm up,” Old Autumn said smirking.

“Forgive me, for the nudity, Frogling, but we needed to revive our guide quickly, didn’t we? I know he is not to touch a woman if he’s not wed to her but… you two are married and I am not a woman!” Marci burst out laughing. The old man laughed lively with him, coughing smoke. 

“He should be waking already…” Old Autumn pondered. 

“Maybe I should move closer?” Auri asked. 

“Maybe you should, las.” 

Magnush’s skin felt like velvet ice. Auri moved closer, still he wouldn’t wake. Then she embraced him, and put her head on Magnush’s chest. His heart was barely beating. Marcian obviously felt uneasy lying next to them.

“I think I’ll get up now. Old Autumn, sir, would you lend me a pipe of Snakegrass? I’d gladly give you a half of the kingdom for it, if I could!”

“Not just that, my lad. I’ll treat you with a warm meal, and a drink.”

“Most kind!” 

The two of them moved closer to the fire, turning their backs on Auri. She laid listening to Magnush’s heartbeat getting stronger and faster. Marcian and Old Autumn had dinner, then drank booze and smoked, and got carried away talking and laughing. 

“I know you’re awake,” Auri whispered. 

Magnush cleared his throat quietly and asked,

“How long have you known I’m awake?”

Auri smiled. Indeed, she suspected Magnush woke up before quite a while, but she said nothing. Neither did he. Auri felt his muscles tensing- Magnush was fighting the urge to touch her. 

“Ah, you’re alive, snake!” Marcian heard their whispering, “you may be a lousy guide, but I wouldn’t wish you dead. At least not dead from the cold - what a pathetic end!” Marcian laughed some more. He was full and drunk, and the white smoke of the Snakegrass travelled in and out his mouth. 

“Thank you kindly, Autumnian! I’m indeed glad to be alive,” the last words Magnush said softly, he touched Auri’s back with the very tips of his fingers, because he knew the next moment she’d move away from him. 

“You have Frogling to thank for it. She gave you her warmth. But I think now you had enough. Come, Frogling, have some dinner!”

Auri nodded and slowly got up, wrapping her body in a blanket. Old Autumn smirked glancing at Magnush; he observed Auri’s nude shoulders with a hungry stare.

“Thank you, Old Autumn, sir! Could we stay on your island tonight?” Auri asked after dinner. 

“Tonight? Dear lass, the rains are here to stay for some weeks and then the winter frosts will come,” the old man shook his head.

“But what can we do?”

“Don’t worry, Frogling! Me and sir Old Autumn here have it all sorted! While you two slumbered, I arranged our stay here. It’s perfect!” Marci exclaimed, “we shall hide here until the rains give way to frosts and then we’ll get across the wetlands easily.”

“It might be a solution,” surprisingly Magnush agreed, “the Wolfling will lose our trace. Maybe he’ll return to Autumna castle. The rains will go on for weeks.” 

“Are we safe here?” Auri whispered into Marci’s ear, while the old man was busy making them tea. 

“Of course, we are safe here! Sir Old Autumn is trustworthy!” Marcian said loudly.

“You’re drunk!” Auri retorted. 

“You can trust me, lass! I couldn’t tell on you even if I wanted, the mud is high, and the skies are stormy,” Old Autumn smiled, “But I wouldn’t betray you - such a pretty lass is not to be given into the dirty hands of a foul Wolfling.” 

Smoke rolled out of the old man’s nose, fire sparkled in his large, black eyes, and Auri was amazed by his likeness to an ancient dragon in the game of firelight and shadows. 

They had tea. Magnush was still weak, so Auri volunteered to spoon-feed him. 

“I cannot let you, no, it’s embarrassing!”

Magnush did not finish as Auri shoved a spoonful of soup into his mouth. The proud Snakeling warrior swallowed, but kept his mouth shut stubbornly. 

“Open the gates, here comes the dragon!” Auri playfully moved the spoon to his mouth. The other two laughed like madmen. 

“Please, for me, Magnush!” Auri moved closer to him and said his name softly. Poor assassin couldn’t help but stare at Auri’s cleavage, with his mouth ajar, because Auri let the blanket slip just a tiny bit lower.

“Ha!” the heiress exclaimed and shoved the spoon into Magnush’s mouth, he chocked on his soup and coughed. Marcian and Old Autumn laughed their socks off.

“If I were you, I’d let this beauty feed me anything she wanted, and I would ask for helpings!” Old Autumn said, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes.

Magnush snorted and furrowed his brows like a stubborn child, but gave into Auri’s sweet smile and let her feed him. His eyes caressed the smooth skin of Auri’s neck, shoulders and chest. By the time the soup bowl was empty, he indeed expressed a wish for more, although his hunger was not the one for food; Auri sat close to him, she smiled, and Magnush could stare in her eyes and at her cleavage as much as he wanted. 

“That was it, youngster! No soup left. I did not expect company tonight. Especially such a fine one,” Old Autumn smiled.

“What company did you expect?” Auri asked nervously.

“Oh, the usual. Mosquitos. They visit me every evening, coming in through the chimney hole. The pests! But Snakegrass usually scares them off,” the old man sighed.

“I hope we’re a better company than mosquitos?” Marci smirked. 

“A fine young man you be! And your lovely sister and the cold-blooded guide. The Foreverold has been generous indeed, sending me such an entertainment,” Old Autumn nodded his white-haired head. 

Auri, Marcian and the old man lingered by the fire long into the night, they drank the booze, smoked Snakegrass, Old Autumn knew many tales of the old and took pleasure in sharing them. Magnush drank a cup of booze, but refused to smoke the intoxicating herb.

“A Snakeling warrior should always be on his guard, with his mind clear and eyes sharp,” he said sternly. 

“I wonder is there anything in the world to cloud the mind of a Snakeling warrior or to dim his sharp eye?” Auri pondered playfully. She had smoked too much Snakegrass; the heiress smiled blatantly, she leaned above the lying Magnush and whispered in his ear,

“I knew you were awake long before I said it,” Auri teased him and sat up. 

Poor Magnush! He was lost for words from Auri’s nearness and her confession.

“I… I… do not know…” the warrior stuttered. The other two were laughing at Magnush’s bewilderment.

“Such beauty could cloud the mind of even the fiercest warrior,” Old Autumn said, “but now I must leave you.”

It was the middle of a dark and stormy night in the Autumnian wetland. Where could he possibly go?

“You may stay here as long as the frosts set in, but I must request you do not leave this shack at night whenever I’m out. Is that clear?” he asked quite harshly.

“Yes, sir, Old Autumn!” Marci, drunk and intoxicated replied, but added, “why?”

“You do not need to know all my secrets, just like I do not wish to know yours. Stay here for your own good!” He said and marched out of the shack, locking it. 

“I don’t like this, Marci! You shouldn’t have told him who we are. He can easily burn down the shack with us in it. He’d get rid of the heiress of Autumna, the heir of Snakelings and the next High King!” Auri whispered.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be the High King. Not after we ran away,” Marci shook his head, “I trust Old Autumn.”

“You trust his booze and Snakegrass,” Auri retorted, and went to bed. This time Marcian laid between her and Magnush. The latter was unusually restless, tossing and turning, while Marci snored like a bear only a moment after lying down.

Auri laid awake listening to Magnush’s restless sighs. Soon enough she forgot her fears and fell into peaceful sleep, thinking about the smooth touch of Magnush’s skin.

***

The weather indeed changed from bad to worse. It rained heavily every day and night. The storms raged every other day. All three spent most of their time in the shack, while Old Autumn disappeared at nights, only to return in the morning. He brought firewood and game meat - mostly lizzos, sometimes large fish. Once he brought a whole bundle of snakes. Magnush haughtily refused to eat snake meat.

“A Snakeling does not eat one of their own!” he grunted.

The next morning Old Autumn brought him a dead wolverine as an apology.

“Is it eatable?” Auri asked disgusted.

“It’s for the fur. Our Snakeling shall need all the warmth we can give him when you travel North,” Old Autumn explained. He took care of all three youngsters like a grandfather. 

As grateful as they were, Auri, Marcian and Magnush often discussed their hosts mysterious nature, and pondered how does he manage to carry such large game back to the shack. 

The three spent the rainy days helping Old Autumn around the shack, mending their clothes, cooking, cleaning. When the rain was less heavy, they practised sword fighting outside, because the height of the shack was barely enough for them to stand up straight. Magnush taught the other two cunning ways to fight with the dagger, which could be done inside the shack. His hands slightly trembled when he touched Auri’s body teaching her. 

After two weeks the rains would still go on, the muddy pools around the shack were overflooded. Nevertheless, Auri found herself enjoying the simple life.

They sat by the fire once more, they drank tea and shared stories. 

“A princess in my humble shack, well I never…” the old man mumbled under his nose, after Marcian had told about their royal upbringing and the life in the Autumnian court.

“I’m not a proper princess,” Auri shook her head, “what kind of a princess roams around taverns and runs away from her royal duties?”

“A broken one. A princess that’s true to her heart,” Magnush said unexpectedly. 

The others stared at him in silence. Magnush was the quietest of them and rarely took part in the conversations. 

“I meant… you have suffered greatly from the wrath of your father,” Magnush explained himself. 

“So have you and your people,” Auri replied heartily. Both looked into each other’s eyes. 

Marcian gave a long whistle, when silence lingered. 

“It was a pleasure, youngsters, but alas I must leave you. No, Marcian, I cannot tell you why! And I hope you never find out,” the old man nodded shortly and went outside into the storm.

“Our host keeps his secrets,” said Magnush, “speaking of. If we are lucky enough to reach Thilia valley, what will you do there?”

Auri and Marcian exchanged looks. 

“We are not sure ourselves,” Auri replied evasively. 

“Well, I’m beaten. I think we should go to sleep,” Marci ended the conversation. 

“You go ahead, I’ll have a bath. No peeking!” Auri gave the boys a cheeky smile. Of course, there was no “bath” in the shack, just a rusty old tub not fit to lay in it. Old Autumn would heat up the water, so Auri could sit in the tub and scrub her skin with a clump of moss instead of a sponge. 

“A princess should not stink!” Old Autumn had said, and they laughed. 

Both men went to bed, soon enough Marci began to snore, Magnush’s breathing was calm and deep. Auri washed her hair and lingered sitting in the pleasant warmth. Although she had turned her back on the two, Auri could sense someone approaching. She knew only one man who moved this quietly. Auri could turn around and scold him, or wake Marci and he would beat Magnush’s face into a bloody pulp. Instead she did nothing. 

Auri wished him to come closer. She pretended to scrub her chest, while he came nearer and observed her wet, naked back and shoulders. Just a bit closer. Auri closed her eyes, biting her lip. She could almost feel Magnush’s hand touching her shoulder. He kneeled. She slightly tilted her head to the side, waiting for him to kiss her neck. Auri felt his breath on her skin. Go on, she thought impatiently. 

But then Magnush took a deep breath got up and went back as quiet as he came. Auri wished to scream her desire out loud. She threw the sponge into the tub with a furious splash. Only then she looked back. Both men appeared to be fast asleep. 

He was probably right not to touch her. Not in front of Marcian. Not while they’re hiding from her father’s soldiers. Auri attempted to take off the Snakeling wedding ring. It would not come off, no matter how hard she tried. Oh, well! The princess rubbed her skin dry with a towel, got dressed and went to bed. 

The next day Magnush acted as his usual self and did not give himself out. Auri, on the other hand, tortured him trying to catch his eye at any chance.

“I wish to learn fist-fighting. Magnush, could you teach me?” she asked innocently right after lunch. The rain was pouring outside.

“Why would you need it, Frogling? You have us!” Marcian bragged.

“You cannot protect me all the time. It might be of use in dangerous lands we’re going to.”

“Fist-fighting will not help you against the dangers of the wilderness. Unless you want to start another tavern brawl with the Autumnian,” a spark of ridicule shone in Magnush’s eyes.

Auri squinted her eyes stubbornly. She attempted to persuade him another way.

“Will you please teach me anyway? Please, Magnush!” Auri flashed her sweetest smile at him, with her eyelashes fluttering. 

The Snakeling warrior was slayed without a single swing of the sword.

“As you wish,” he smiled shyly.

“I think we should begin with some exercises of defence, since…” Magnush’s eyes glanced over Auri’s body, “you would not be a match to a full-grown man.”

“My Frogling is much stronger than you think, snake!” Marci objected. 

“Alrigh, let’s begin!” Auri said gladly. 

Auri did her best to seduce the poor Snakeling. She needed a lot of help to correct her posture, he had to touch her body many times. 

“That’s quite enough, snake! Maybe you should stop today,” Marci shouted when Magnush stood still for some reason, holding Auri from behind and breathing in the scent of her hair, with his eyes closed.  They were supposed to play out an attack from the back. But both lingered standing close, Magnush’s hands locked around her waist. Auri wholeheartedly wished for Marcian to keep quiet and disappear! 

“Of course,” Magnush released her in an instant, he cleared his throat, “I agree, that is enough,” he blushed heavily and stared at his feet.

Old Autumn sat in the dark corner chuckling. 

***

“The frosts are coming,” the old man said after dinner. Indeed, the storm outside had gone quiet and a cracking noise proved his words - the muddy pools were freezing over. 

“I guess we must prepare to leave,” Marcian sighed.

“As soon as the swamp freezes over, you shall have a safe path to move across it,” Old Autumn said listening to the sounds of the swampland, “you still have a few days to prepare. Now, I must leave you.”

“Won’t it be too could for you, sir, to wander around?” Auri asked.

“Your heart indeed is as pure as gold,” the old man smiled heartily at Auri, “the cold does not concern the likes of me,” he winked at her and hurried outside. 

“So be it. We must leave for Thilia valley soon,” Marcian said, staring into the fire, “I shall miss the old man, and the shack.”

“A very good shack, indeed,” Auri noted, and all three chuckled; Old Autumn loved to brag about his humble shack.

Chapter 8