Tales of the Vangen: The Dead King of Danic (Book 3)

Chapter 35: A Reward for Good Behavior

Somehow, through boot thieving mud, endless patrols, and countless cold nights, Brand stood before Torm. The town itself loomed over a long, narrow hill, corkscrewed with cobbled steps, stone stairs, and rows upon rows of tiny homes supported on wooden beams and stilts.

The sight of it nearly brought a tear to his eye. Civilization, at last. And none too soon, he reckoned, as the wind kicked up his body odor. A bath was definitely in order, then a hot meal, a new set of traveling clothes, and finally a little time to kick his feet up near a roaring fire. He patted his pocket, gut sinking over the lack of a healthy jingle. He'd forgotten his Magician's salary had already run dry. The moment he'd deserted the Vangen.

"Ah shit," Brand muttered.

"Isn't it beautiful, Cinnis?" Keela stepped past him, hips swaying, looking as radiantly beautiful as she had back at the border tower. As if nature itself were unable to touch or alter her in any significant way. Her feet were clean and bare, blue robes completely stain free, hair perfectly arranged. Even her multi-colored eyes still held their lustrous sparkle.

Compared to her, Brand felt more akin to a lowly savage, doomed to forever scavenge in the mud. "Please tell me you have money for food," he muttered weakly as his stomach audibly growled.

"And plenty more besides, I assure you. Cup your ear to the wind. I believe we've made it right on time for the festival."

"Festival?" Brand asked, the word dropping out of his mouth like a stone. At first he thought she was joking. What madness was there to host a festival at a time like this? But then he heard it, faint at first, growing more and more clear as he finally registered what it was.

Laughter, cheering, and not the kind you hear during sacks and sieges. There were no cruel edges to it, chased by fire and smoke. It was real, honest to goddess laughter.

"I want to reward you," Keela said. "For following me this far. I know it took a lot of faith and a lot of trust." She turned to him, all sweet and serene as a Byzantian saint. "And I am grateful for it."

Brand swallowed past the lump quickly forming in his throat. She looked like a sphinx in that moment, terror and beauty molded into one perfect being. It was hard to look at her. It was hard not to look at her..

"All I want is my mother," he mumbled, but even he had a hard time believing himself. Deep down all he really wanted was a hot bath, a hot meal, and to not ache as much as he did now. Then, he wanted his mother.

"And you will have her," Keela tittered. "But even so, I can tell just by looking at you that you'd rather be sleeping in a real bed right about now. We're going to stay in Torm until tomorrow morning. Plenty of time for us to rest, relax, and maybe even pamper ourselves a little."

A dull smile stretched over Brand's face as he imagined the plushest mattress waiting for him, the softest pillows, the silkiest blankets. It sounded like a dream come true, especially after sleeping on the cold, hard ground for the past week.

"That sounds delightful," he said.

"Good," Keela said as she started down the hill. "I'm sure you'll love meeting my girls."

Brand's eyes went very wide as he froze in his tracks. "Girls?"

*

"Oh, girls!" The door burst open as Keela paraded herself inside, practically dragging Brand by the collar all the while. "Come meet the new boy in town!"

Three women poked their heads out from behind a doorway, each one dressed in festival clothes and sporting a different color. A whirlwind of blood reds, forest greens, and ocean blues whipped and whirled about as they closed the distance, eyes sparkling in the candlelight.