Part Three
Ned was on watch, sitting at a ledge at the mouth of the cave. He hadn’t really slept all that well; the physical exertion made his muscles ache but his troubled mind couldn’t rest, and so he fidgeted nervously, never really getting a proper rest. Dark thoughts wrestled in his mind, and the need for revenge made his stomach churn and his heart thump mightily in his chest. He looked at the cloudy sky from the lip of the cave, his fingers gently caressing his drum, his sole possession in the world now and the last thing he loved.
Theo couldn’t sleep either; the realisation that almost his whole life he had been lied to, even if it seemed to be in everyone’s best interest, was impossible to fathom. A lot of things were impossible for Theo to fathom actually, but this one in particular stung him like bees from hell. To top it off, there was no-one of his people to talk to about other than the elder, who having fully explained to him how he came to find him one day in the wounds, he fell asleep, the years on his back and the exhaustion from the ordeal with Hobb’s raid having exerted their toll on the aged woodkin.
Theo kept to himself, never uttering a word. He sat with his legs crossed, his eyes unable to part with the vista of his village burned to the ground. Little clouds of smoke still gathered above it, but the fires had been extinguished by that time, after having eating almost everything, leaving little for the eye to see that at one time, people had lived there. All that remained, was old Fingammon, sleeping in the cave deeply.
Ned watched Theo absentmindedly, himself lost in thought. He had a sudden realisation then: if it wasn’t for the ears and the bunny, it felt to him that he was watching himself. They had both lost their homes, and Theo had never met his parents; in a way, that was worse than what Ned was going through. At least he had some memories. But Theo, thought Ned, all he had to cry for was a bunny with a condition and an amulet that had only caused him disaster.
“It’s not easy, is it?” said Ned, speaking from the heart. Theo did not look at him, but simply remained silent, gazing outwards into the sky. Ned walked over him, and sat himself down on the bedrock beside Theo.
“My father was murdered last night,” he said. The words spurred something in Theo. He looked thoughtful when he said softly:
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Ned nodded and spent a moment or so watching Theo in silence. The bunny was with him always it seemed. Just holding Bo seemed to be more than important to Theo. The flames on Bo’s eyes were a mere prickle of light at that time; he looked content, nibbling a thick wide leaf. It kept looking at Theo as if he knew things were hard for him. Ned thought it wasn’t impossible for a flame-eyed rabbit to know such things. It didn’t take an expert in magical beasts to realise it when Bo looked at them funny. This was one such time. Theo noticed the look Bo shot Ned, ears pointed eagerly upright, the prickles of light in its eyes brightening up.
“Calm down Bo. He’s not bad. The bad men are out there,” said Theo with a grittiness that his youthful, woodkin appearance belied. Ned spoke to him earnestly:
“I don’t know what you’re feeling right now. That would be a lie. But you haven’t slept, and I couldn’t do that either. I don’t know if it’s normal. But I’m not feeling tired. Sure, the legs hurt a bit, and my stomach’s growling, but that’s not the real pain.”
Ned let his words trail off awkwardly, remembering what had happened just the night before. He suppressed a tear and feeling somewhat embarrassed, looked the other way. They sat in relative silence for a few moments, interrupted by the far-away chirping of birds and Winceham’s occasional saw-like snore. Theo broke the silence then:
“What was your father like?”
Ned’s face contorted with a pained frown while he tried to find the words. He tried to put on a slightly sly smile and said:
“When mother died, I was only eight. I remember I knew that she wasn’t just somewhere far away or simply sick.”
“You were a bright boy then. I was told my parents were eaten by trollsharks. Which, it turns out, simply do not exist. I should’ve made the connection when I saw sharks in the sea. Everyone knows trolls live under bridges. How could’ve they met and mated then, right?”
Ned’s brow furrowed but not unkindly; it was simply the fact that Theo couldn’t fail to surprise him every turn of the way. Being around him made everything normal acquire an interesting flair.
“Right. Well, it wasn’t that I was that bright, mind you; it’s just that we burned her body. The plague, they said. I couldn’t speak to her before she passed, for fear I’d catch what she had,” said Ned and looked at his feet for a while before adding, “I think her last words I remember were ‘Go on, Ned. Be a good boy and help you father’”.
Theo had an understanding look in his bright, green eyes. He pouted his lips slightly and said:
“That sounds.. Well, awful. At least, I never knew my real parents. I knew there was something funny about the skin color of everyone else, but I just thought I’d pick it up while growing. I never thought I was... Found,” he said as he swallowed hard and let his voice trail off, his head lowered moodily. A smile crept up on Ned’s face. Theo’s naivety was bordering on stupidity as Parcifal would have it, but in his mind, Ned saw a child in a man’s body, and that somehow reminded him of himself once more. Strangely, he felt that didn’t bother him at all.
“Well, we’ll get your people back. With your help. And theirs,” he said and pointed to the inside of the cave. He looked at Theo with a gleaming eye and went on: “And I’ll avenge my father, and I’ll be able to lay his soul to rest.”
“Do you think it will be that simple? The golems, the men at his disposal. The magic...” said Theo and looked at Bo momentarily with a frown. The bunny smiled back uncannily for only Theo to see. Ned replied truthfully:
“No, not really. But this is what I have to do. I need this, or else I feel I’ll drive myself mad with hate and guilt.”
Theo spoke, his words carrying a touch of bitter sweetness:
“I have no-one else to care for than my people, well, except Bo. Even though they’re not really my people, I fell I need this as well. Fate, it seems, has brought us together.”
“I don’t believe much in that sort of thing. It’s thinking about fate that keeps people from fighting back. Accepting one’s fate, that’s the worse that can happen,” said Ned and shook his head. Theo looked at him with a wide, gentle smile, accented by the way its edges led to his long, pointy ears:
“I may not have learned much, but I learned that fate is just what binds people together. It’s neither a boon, nor a bane; it just is, because we just exist.”
Ned raised an eyebrow and seemed to give the notion some thought; he somehow felt lighter alongside the woodkin, as if he could lift his spirits.
“If you put it like that, I have no regrets of a fate alongside you, Theo. You’re a good man,” he said and nodded with a smile brimming with camaraderie.
“Nah, I’m still a woodkin boy,” said Theo dismissively and added, “I still need to learn my way around magic.”
Ned furrowed his brow and said loudly:
“But back there, when the mushroom-men attacked, you were fantastic!”
“Really? I kind of never did that before, actually,” replied Theo with a sheepish grin that hinted at guilty mischief. Ned was taking Theo’s word as not too literal, thinking the woodkin was simply being modest.
“What do you mean? Your hand flew sparks and everything. Well, you almost missed, but that’s just takes practice I guess.”
Theo smiled broadly and sprang up on his feet. He felt a bit proud, and a bit taller suddenly.
“Now that you mention that, it brought to mind that joke of yours. It was hilarious!” he said and couldn’t help giggle just a bit at the thought. Ned looked excited, and that carried on to the volume of his voice when he almost shouted:
“Really?!” Theo nodded in silent affirmation and Bo raised his head alarmingly. Ned went on:
“Well, I’ve been having a hard time getting people to like those. It’s a long way to the top, if you wanna be a bard these days.”
Theo asked him:
“You’re a bard? What kind of instrument do you play?”
“Oh, I play the drum,” said Ned and shot his red birchwood drum a glance, before adding:
“I know it’s a little hard to play most omens, prophecies and tales with just a beating drum, but I believe it has great potential. Maybe if more bards got together and everyone played a different instrument, I could be, you know, supporting their music with beating the drum. And then we could tour, get the crowd rolling. It could be amazing,” said Ned with childish excitement overrunning his voice.
“I don’t want to put you off, but that sounds all wrong. I mean, who would want to see the same bards over and over again? And everyone singing at the same time? Think of the cacophony. Come to think of it, how do you play notes on that thing? I don’t see any keys, strings or pipes,” said Theo without thinking about it at all. His disarmingly blunt honesty fired Ned up.
“It doesn’t have notes! It does have tone values though! And it needs tuning as well! And for your information, people would love to hear the same songs and tales over and over! I know I do! Gods, everyone’s an expert now!” shouted Ned with a sudden pang of mild anger. The bunny’s eyes produced a burst of flames as Bo turned and looked at him with a twitchy nose. Theo simply spoke his mind:
“I’m just saying, it would be better to stick to the jokes for now. Just until you get that team of bards going.”
Ned thought about that for a while. “A team of bards? It’s not a race, or a game. It’s art; it will be a band of bards. Like, sticking together, but also having room to be free. Experimenting,” his words accompanied by wild, excited hand gestures, his voice once again lost in excitement.
“I see. Will it involve jokes? I think it should involve jokes,” said Theo and Ned replied in a ponderous voice:
“Maybe, maybe. We’ll see, when all this is over. Maybe we could try it together.”
Theo shook his head with a frown. “I don’t think that would work. I mean, I’m terribly bad at that sort of thing. I once sang in a feast, and the coconut milk went sour for a week. Plus, people tell me I have a really bad sense of humor,” replied Theo and Ned realised with a scowl that Theo liking his jokes wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
“Oh, well. That sounds... Well, we’ll think of something.”
And then they heard a loud sound like a squawk echo from the inside of the cave. Bo’s eyes flared up when the sound turned into a growl. They exchanged worried looks and were almost ready to do something stupid when they heard Winceham’s voice tied up in a long-winded snarl:
“I’ll tell what I’ve been thinking.. I’ve been thinking, when this is over and I’m dead, I’m going to haunt you with screeching banshee howls. How can any man get some decent sleep with all of that noise you’re making!”
“Oh, it’s you,” said Ned and relaxed, while Theo tried to apologize:
“We were just talking, Mr. Winceham.”
Winceham shot Theo half a look and said while squinting at the overcast sky:
“Mr. Abbermouth. Or Winceham. Can’t be both. Apology accepted. It would do you good to take an example from this laddie, Ned,” he said and stretched with a yawn.
“More advice, Wince? It doesn’t always work, I’m afraid,” Ned said and didn’t bother to look at the halfuin. Winceham realised Ned was probably still blaming mostly him for what happened at the Sniggering Pig. He’d try and talk it out of him, if he didn’t know Ned all too well. He simply changed the subject:
“Any sign of them yet? Where’s the bleedin’ sun when you need it? What time is it?” he asked and his eyes froze when he saw the bunny turn his head around at an impossible angle, grin at him and hold up a flaming hourglass with his hind legs, writhing with molten fire. It showed the day was well into the afternoon.
“I’d say afternoon,” said Theo, looking at the clouds as if he could make out the sun behind them. No-one but Winceham had noticed Bo’s antics, or if they had, they didn’t look surprised. Winceham thought as much and asked flatly:
“You didn’t see that, did you?”
“See what?” said Ned and searched at the sky beyond, for signs of the flying ship or anything equally disturbing that spelled bad news.
“Never mind, it could be because I’m starving,” replied Winceham and spent a moment to himself before asking both of them:
“Doesn’t all this waiting get to you?”
Suddenly, a shadow seemed to toy with the clouds at a distance. “There! It’s coming out of the clouds! See its bow?” cried Ned and pointed to a hazy part of the clouds were the shape of a small ship began to take form. Theo stared for a moment and nodded fervently:
“I see it too! And that red blot! The red octopus on the sail! It’s them!”
Winceham said mostly to himself with a scoff:
“As if there’s a boatload of ships flying in the clouds. ’Course it’s them!”
“Wake the others, Wince!” said Ned and picked up his crossbow and drum.
“So, we’re sticking to the plan?” asked Theo. Ned replied without taking his eyes off the ship:
“Of course!”
“Are you sure this will work?” asked Theo and his expression was a mix of indecision, worry and excitement.
“Of course it’ll work! Have faith, Theo,” said Ned and squeezed Theo’s arm reassuringly. He then turned around and saw Winceham filling his pipe without a care in the world, watching as the flying ship’s silhouette became clear in the horizon.
“She’s a beaut though,” said Winceham and lit his pipe. Ned asked with surprise:
“What are you still doing here?”
“You didn’t say please,” replied Winceham and Ned walked past him and into the cave, ignoring him with a scowling face.
“Don’t expect me to,” he said as his figure disappeared into the darkness of the cave, Bo hopping alongside him and lighting his path with his flaming eyes.
“You’ll be thanking me later!” said Winceham with a grin as he let out a small cloud of smoke through his nostrils.
“Bo! Get back here! Bo, don’t get in the water now!” yelled Theo.
Winceham held his pipe in one hand and asked with a sideways look:
“Is your rabbit allergic to water like yourself?”
“No, it’s just because of the monsters in the water,” replied Theo as if it those monsters were common knowledge.
“There are monsters in the Lake?” asked Winceham with a sudden terrible realisation urging him to start running towards the depths of the cave.
“Aren’t there monsters in every lake?” said Theo with an almost appallingly naive smile.
“You thick barkskin! Hurry!” Winceham called after him.
“Why? The bad guys are the other way! That wasn’t the plan!” he said even as he ran along. Winceham’s shouts echoed faintly from a place where shadow had replaced light utterly:
“The sisters, you idiot! They’re bathing in the Lake!”