Ch: 79 You Turn Me Right Round
Shai was, in fact, super pissed.
“Are ye mad? Hae ye a brain in that thick, wooden, termite addled skull? Axio be… gods man, he be terrifying.” She was hugged onto him fiercely, while chewing him out, so… whatever that meant.
“I understand, love. The part of me he resonates so strongly with, is the part you like the least… I’ve seen how you look when I get… you know.” He held her close, feeling better already.
“What about Brennan?” He looked sour and had a tinge of that thing she hated in his voice.
“We shall manage that fool, ye worry about getting yerself back whole. Fie, ye hae lost a yard of hard won land to this misadventure.” She kissed him fiercely. “I shall try tae welcome Axio, though he frightens me.”
Amy stampeded by, pursued by Axio and a fast toddling Wilford. “I will catch you Amy, I catch everyone eventually!” Axio shouted.
“NoOoOoOo!” Amy’s giggling wail of ‘terror’ doppler shifted in pitch, as she ran around the island. Their game went on for a while, the children pursued by a laughing spirit of death that was older than civilization.
#
“No!” Brennan snapped, fury writ plain across his handsome, if blotchy and rheumy eyed, face. “I need wine, not this swill.” His voice was weak and raspy, but petulant.
“That is a medicinal philtre, brewed by lady Trelawny specifically for your illness. Wine is forbidden until your lungs are no longer in danger of filling up with mucus…”
He sighed sadly and headed for the door with the small brown glass bottle and tiny measuring cup, as the young lord began another round of helpless coughing.
“I will tell her you have selected, the more… physically demanding treatment plan.”
He slipped out the door, leaving the feebly gasping and sulky lord alone in the steam.
In the common room, he placed the rejected tray on the table before Tawny with a small bow.
“His lordship requests the alternate treatment plan.” He said with a very poorly concealed grin.
Tallum and Becky hopped to their feet with happy smiles. They reached out and smacked the palms of their right hands together in triumph and began pulling a cart loaded with lumber and cordage into the public bath. They paused outside the grotto, beneath the waterfall.
Becky opened the door and slipped inside first. “Good morning lord Fallon!” She chirped happily when he looked her way as she entered.
“Go away, I am too ill, girl. Come back this evening.” He snapped, while looking her up and down. “Though, I’ve sported with skinnier whores.”
“My lord misapprehends,” She smiled sweetly as she disrobed. “my brothers and sisters do not like that word… ‘whore’, it offends our sensibilities.” She opened the door and beckoned to her brothers.
“I am not here to attend to my lord’s base and animal desires, I am here to assist your treatment, I will be supervising the process.”
The beautiful groom, Dannyl, slipped in the door and disrobed, as did the giant red haired smith. The massive savage dragged a cart in, and began removing lumber and tools.
The girl watched from a giant toadstool seat that seemed to spring up to meet her backside, as she sat down. The two men worked to assemble a wooden structure, inscribed with complex glyphs and lines of runes.
“Lady Trelawny worked hard on that medicine. Her philtre of hyssop, comfrey, spiced apple brandy and haunted plum syrup is delicious and potent.” Her smile became cold and hard. “Two other members of your warband also contracted this illness, her medicine cleared them of it remarkably fast.” She said happily while the men worked.
“I personally hoped that you would go with the alternate treatment plan. We would all like to thank you for that.” She gazed with satisfaction at the work her brothers had completed.
The framework was simple, if well constructed, an A frame of smooth and carefully inscribed hardwood beams. Suspended from a number of large metal hoops, an upholstered cradle in a faintly human shape was able to tip and pivot in strange ways.
“Look’s good brothers, load him in please, journeyman Tallum.” Becky said from her comfortable seat, her teeth flashed in a blinding grin as the savage giant advanced on the helpless. wheezing lord.
Brennan Fallon, heir to the barony of Port Fallon, was grabbed by one arm and one leg, roughly hauled from the strange mossy bed of swirling hot water, and shoved into the cradle.
The small, ginger youth quickly and efficiently buckled him in at hands, shoulders, feet, thighs, hips and chest. In a twinkle, the struggling, cursing lordling was held perfectly imobile in a highly undignified position.
“Release me from this contraption filthy orphans, nameless wastes of space! I will have you all beaten to death and fed to the pigs! First I will buy your indentures, you will all feel my wrath! I have friends in the flesh trade, you will be sold for the pleasure of any workman with an iron bit, before I allow you to die and be…”
His stream of bullshit choked off when he looked up and saw Tawny, nude and golden in the steam.
“Interesting confessions you make in the bath, lord Fallon. Please do go on.” She turned her golden regard onto Dannyl with a fond and gentle smile.
“Dannyl, please invert his lordship. Journeyman Tallum, you may retire, his lordship will not provide further trouble.” As the giant left, with a passable bow to the golden lady, Brennan’s world slowly flipped upside down.
“Excellent Dannyl, secure that please.” Tawny sat on the toadstool beside Becky, dark skin and golden, side by side. “You were very insulting to my sister Becky and my brother Dannyl, lord Fallon, some of your statements were very troubling confessions as well.” She smiled coldly at him, that was disturbing from his perspective…
“Did you know that I am technically not yet a member of clergy?” She smiled sadly at him in the splashing, spraying water.
Smug relief slowly began to replace dread and fear on his handsome, snot smeared face.
“It’s true, as such, my report of your confession to involvement in the flesh trade and illegal indenture prostitution is, sadly, inadmissible in court.” She turned to the slim girl beside her.
“What say you Becky?” She smiled at the skinny waif with genuine warmth and love, that made Fallon’s stomach try and fall through the ceiling.
“Orphans cannot bear witness against nobles, that is the law… only citizens, adult nobles… and clergy may testify in such matters.” The filthy wretch mused, as though her thoughts mattered in the slightest.
Brennan remained confidently silent in his humiliating position… he worked on coughing up a tremendous volume of sticky gray-green snot instead. A disgusting runnel of mucus dripped into the water pooling across the floor, where it fizzed into nothing.
“Becky, Dannyl, I will supervise lord Fallon’s treatment personally.” Tawny announced as the young lord kept sullenly gagging and coughing up the contents of his lungs and sinuses.
When the two nobles were alone, Fallon gagged his mouth clear and spat. “I will not forget this insult, lady Trelawny.” He muttered, emboldened by their privacy.
“You know your mother plans to marry us, when I am duke, there will be changes in this domain.” He said with false courtesy, while his eyes revealed his true feelings.
“My mother’s plans will come to naught, Brennan. Things are changing in the duchy of Wheatford, soon those changes will begin sweeping over other lands as well.”
Her smile became almost venomous. “I fear that those who have flourished under the misapprehensions of the past, will be swept away by this flood.”
She gave the mechanism he was trapped into a gentle tap, causing its complex arrangement of hoops and metal joints to begin spinning and revolving in multiple directions.
“What is this? Stop! What are you doing?” He demanded as the young lord began revolving, spinning and inverting slowly in the strange device.
“You refused conventional treatment, this device will prevent the fluids from pooling in your lungs, while maintaining your blood and lymphatic circulation.” She said coolly. “Some discomfort is to be expected. High priestess Becky will be by, to check on you periodically.”
“High priestess who? Of what god? Wait! Answer me!” The door slipped shut behind her, silencing his demands and complaints.
#
The sun came up over the meadow, bright and clear, bringing the scents of a new washed earth, warmed by the day’s first light. Gary, Axio and Rootedbear were up early, lounging in the bath, watching the sun rise.
“…I watched over that necropolis for so many generations I despaired of ever being free to work my will on the land. Now to be incarnate and mobile…” The mushroom creature sighed and sank into the pool.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Tell me lord Axio, what do you know of these things young Gary tells us. His words are often strange and confusing.” The giant looked at Gary apologetically and shrugged. “When else will I be able to speak to such a wise, ancient spirit?”
“Fair point, I’m tough to take seriously… not like a tiny mushroom man in a hot spring, smoking my best herb at dawn.” The musician snarked, while the mushroom passed him the pipe. “He seems a much more reliable source of info.”
“Gary is not incorrect, to be fair… if advice from an exotic creature of profoundly ancient origins is what you seek… either of us will serve.” He shrugged his spongey shoulders. “I have never seen a creature as deeply odd as young Gary, furthermore, his soul seems to have spent a terrible gulf of time floating in the ether, waiting. Even ancient Solange, the Magnolia Grandiflora and Plumeria, the plum grove listen when he speaks.”
“So they are true, the things he claims?” Rootedbear asked, leaning forward intently.
“That I do not know. Much has been concealed and it has been such, for ages uncounted. Secrets concealed even from the gods and spirits must be dug out with care and attention.”
The spirit puffed a perfectly spherical smoke cloud into the steamy air. “I do not perceive the passage of time as you mortals do, typically I must struggle mightily to interact with your short lives and rapid activities.” He leaned back, resting his cap on the edge of the pool.
“Now that I have had a taste of this perspective, of incarnate life, I see the gaps in my memories. Logical fallacies overlooked, conclusions leapt to without information. Was I young and foolish? Or was I deceived by some subtle force?” He fell silent for a moment, as his smoke sphere drifted apart.
“The sacred mycelium is spreading, connecting with the roots of these trees, as it was always meant to. I feel their response, after so long and remember this place as it was. Our world forest spread, waxing and waning over the eons, checked only by the seasons and our nature. As my spores settle on the land I feel it again, the wonder of this place. How could I have ever forgotten?”
He paused to inhale another enormous breath from the pipe. “But is it truth, or madness?” The big man asked gently, while the mushroom got baked.
“Yes.” Axio coughed, while blinking rapidly and trying to hold on to the pipe. “Truth and madness are always linked.” He coughed until spores puffed from him again. “The other mortals awaken, let us pretend to be responsible.”
“Yeah, it’s time to go home, I have a mess to clean up, there is something rotten in my grotto.” Gary helped Axio out of the bath, while Rootedbear dressed. “I’ve been meaning to ask, Rootie, why doesn’t Axio bother you like he does the others? You seem really cool with him.”
“My sept of our clan, we practice forest burial, we lay our honored dead on altars of deadwood and leaves. Letting them return to the forest of the ancestors in their own time is our way. He feels like that forest, patient, expectant, waiting...” He sighed long and slow with a tranquil smile. “When I retire, I will be the guardian of that forest until I join it myself, as my father and grandfather did.”
“I should very much like to visit your forest Rootie, It sounds marvelous.” Axio smiled his terrible grin and Rootedbear almost glowed with happiness.
#
“Good morning late risers!” Gary called into the house, when they went inside together. The balance of the crew seemed to have had a restless night. Sharing a roof with the spirit of untold thousands of silent graves, is not restful to everyone.
“We made breakfast… well, Rootie did. Axio and I tried to stay out of his way.” Gary chirped, as he spread platters of hot biscuits and pots of gravy from his magic pants.
“I don’t know how the others wait tables… I would have gravied at least one of you without cheating.” He sang, when Larksong did a double-take on where her breakfast came from.
While the mortals ate, Axio wandered the meadow and broken dam, touching the felled trees and shrubs. He ran his fingers through the leaves beneath the trees and rubbed his back on a patch of stunted beech saplings like a dog rolling on the rug.
“Being ambulatory is a remarkable sensation. Do I get to try this ‘travel’ thing Plumeria mentioned?” He asked the room, when he slipped back inside.
“Oh dear yes, he is cute in the light of morning!” Runningtree said happily. “How charming! Yes lord Axio, we will be departing soon. Depending how long it takes to disassemble this remarkable structure.”
#
The change was remarkable, the skeletal, hollow eyed figure of chubby menace, seemed another creature entirely.
He stood five feet tall, in a long, green coat of finely felted mycelium with a pointed hood trailing behind. A mask of pinkish white fungus spread over the skull hiding in his hood, seeming almost like living skin.
His eyes were dark and empty, but not obviously so. A passing traveler might mistake him for a mortal man at a glance.
He launched a spore cloud, pleased with the reaction of his new friends. “This having a body thing is surprisingly challenging. Kudos to you for pulling it off” He took a stumble when he started walking.
“How ever do you keep all these parts straight?” After a moment, he caught on.
“I’m ‘skipping’! My new friend, Amy, says one should do this, on a fine spring morning. She is very wise. Everyone! Skip with me!” His soft, whispery voice carried on the wind, with a sense of elation and joy that was infectious.
“Well you are in for a treat buddy, we are going to take the ‘Green Tambourine’, all the way home. It's a song for skipping to.” He held up a handful of the simple instruments.
Faithful Liam had his guitar out, Otho was ready to make a little noise, but most of the others seemed strangely reluctant.
“Come on ya big babies, it's only a couple miles over shitty game trails in the sunshine.” Gary teased and cajoled.
“Okies, let’s start basic.” He got Liam thumping on his bass strings, driving a primitive beat. “Hey Otho, Pick up Liam’s beat and follow along.” The musician began thumping and shaking a tambourine, following the guitar line.
“See how easy? Fall in line and shake what you got. Here, Axio, have one.” The mushroom man was all about new experiences. He took a tambourine and gave it a thump and shake.
“Oh that is fun!” Within moments, he was shaking and tapping all over the place, without a speck of timing or rhythm. “Another first for my kind… let me savor this experience…” He shook himself all over, dusting the zone with more pale brown spores.
“Ahh much better!” He took the instrument and got back to trying to follow along.
“Follow me buddy, just like this.” Gary demonstrated the tambourine riff again. Poor Axio had a critical lack of rhythm, great pitch, no timing.
“I don’t have a heartbeat Gary, could that be it? I live in time with the seasons and the ticking of geologic time…” He looked downcast at the thought. “Perhaps some elements of mortal life will continue to elude my grasp.”
“Nope, if you can skip, you can dance, if you can dance, you have rhythm. We just gotta find your one. Find the one, get on the good foot and get on up, while you get down.”
The trio of musicians pulled the rest along and had them skipping down the trail with Axio, whistling, tapping tambourines or humming with the simple tune.
#
Breakfast was a quiet affair. After a few hours of orbiting his own navel, on Gary’s mad human gimbal machine, Brennan had humbly requested the philtre. One draught put him in a near coma within minutes, a state he remained in for the rest of the night and a slice of the morning so far.
#
Drop some silver in my tambourine,
Help a poor man make a pretty dream…
Amy sang as he danced by the table. “Gary’s coming home.” She said between verses.
“That man o mine hae found more company, brace yourselves fer strange doings and odd folk. Ye hae had more warning than I ever had.” She said to the gathered kin, allies and visitors.
Half an hour later the shadow of death walked in the door with a happy wave to the assembly.
“Hello, my name is Axio, what you are feeling is very natural… my apologies for the gooseflesh…” He bent to scoop up two fast moving children. “Amy! Wilf! Marvelous. Now where is journeyman Shai?”
Solange watched from the bar, as Axio adapted to human ways and made himself at home in their company. Before long, the breath of the grave on their necks, became bittersweet reminiscence on friends and kin passed on or lost.
Gary tapped a couple small kegs of his homebrew, even amateurish beer is welcome at an impromptu wake and memorial.
Becky was playing a fine rendition of ‘Bramble Briar’, a murder ballad from Gary’s deep well of musical nerdiness. It featured a murder most foul, a hidden corpse and ghastly apparitions, all the best stuff.
Gary and Shai sawed through a violin and viola duet on ‘King Henry’, one of the few songs about ghostly necrophilia in Gary’s arsenal, before Axio finally approached Solange.
“Greetings, Magnolia Grandiflora, Solange, you honor me, elder.” He said with a formal bow.
“Axiolit’ieielie.” Solange whispered as she stepped from behind the bar and circled him slowly, taking in everything. “You are among… if not the eldest of your kind. Yet to have such a bond with mortals, what have you been up to? We simply must talk…”
#
“Those two are going to be busy for a while. Sorry love, he followed me home.” His boyish grin was back, the one without a hint of ice in it. Shai hugged him and pulled him to a table in a quiet corner.
“Brennan Fallon be here still, he did catch some illness in the cold an wet. We did strap him intae that gimbal thing ye do meditate in. It were hilarious.”
“Did he puke in the gyro pope? Joy told me to build that, it’s not vomit safe!” He complained. “Torture is beneath you, why didn’t you wait for me?”
“It were Tawny’s orders, He did nearly drown in his own snot… it seems a fitting end tae my mind.” Her sour expression did little to improve Gary’s opinion of his unwelcome guest.
Tawny joined their table moments later, settling in with an exhausted sigh. “Gary, please avoid all contact with lord Fallon. Use all your most annoying tricks and gags if you must, but do not meet with him. One of you will surely murder the other if you do.”
“So this guy is so much of an asshole I cant talk to him without bloodshed, but he has to stay in my home? In a piece of me? Not cool Tawny, not cool.” He gave a mad wink and a crooked smile. “What’s the over-under on that matchup?”
Liam sat down beside Tawny with a grin on his too handsome face. “In the house or garden? He’s doomed. Outside? We mop you up and have a quiet memorial service for a soiled towel.” Liam said, holding Gary’s gaze firmly.
“He is a full knight of order with years of experience. You are sneaky, slippery and surprising, not a good matchup for you.” Liam sighed happily as Tawny settled back against him.
“Honor is hard won and easy lost, duty is a heavy burden at the best of times, but where would we be without them?” He said softly as the warm afternoon sent him to naptime.
Shai took that cue, and made herself comfortable on him, followed shortly by Amy and Wilford. Nobody really noticed as their corner of the common room slowly became a huge pile of cushions.
#
Brennan woke feeling… pretty good. His head was clear and breathing was easy again, the wracking cough and ache in his joints had subsided as well. When the lord stirred, the young groom looked up from his book. That couldn’t be right…
The graceful lad helped him into a green flannel robe and sat him in a sofa by the fireplace in the grotto.
“What is this place?” He demanded, looking over the rough, natural stone walls, steaming waterfall and giant fungus furniture. Juxtaposed against the pleasant sitting room by the door, it made no sense at all.
The sofa and plush chair sat on a rug by a field stone fireplace that consumed no fuel. It simply gave heat, light and a pleasant, spicy and herbal aroma.
“This place is my home, I live here with my family, you are lady Trelawny’s guest here in our home.” His expression said volumes. “Are you still disoriented? Should I fetch lady Trelawny?”
“No fool. Where is that orphan, Gary? Bring him to me.” He snapped in simmering fury.
“I will go see if he is available.” The young man ducked out before Brennan could vent any more rage.
After an interminable wait, lady Trelawny appeared.
“Gary is currently working on tasks at my command. He is unavailable for the foreseeable future.” she speared him with a raised eyebrow.
“Please consider members of my household to be my kin. Further discourtesy will not be allowed.”
“Allowed? Are you so lofty as to deny a knight of order in the execution of his duties? I will follow my orders wherever they lead.” He sneered at her openly. “Belen has ever been too close to Otho and his orphans of Joy. I will change that.”
“Your mother sent a betrothal contract to my uncle at summer’s end, he planned to announce the arrangement at spring festival.” The young knight winked happily at her.
“Before too many more seasons pass I will be your husband. Then you will be properly repaid for the indignities I have suffered. Keep that in mind as you decide how far to make me bend… while you still can.”
“Very well Brennan, you have set your course, wherever you land is your own doing.” She rose and swept from the room, leaving him at loose ends.
When the groom arrived with his clothing Brennan had his fury back under control. He finished dressing and pushed past the young servant, and into a nightmare.
There was some kind of forest sprite chatting with a monster in a green coat at the bar. A band of fringe tribals lounged around smoking and laughing with a number of beastmen and his own troop in a corner of the room, filled with cushions and pillows.
A trio of musicians led dancers in a merry romp in their own corner, while the skinny waif tended bar and smiled. At tables scattered throughout the light and airy room, lit by paper lanterns, more people ate and lounged.
An open doorway led to a garden pool that was alive with beaver and otter folk, splashing and frolicking, while a colossal tortoise cropped the lawn on the island.
“Despicable.” He muttered sourly