Harold's Tale of Misery Book 2 Chapter 1

Chapter one: Happiness Halted

It was the third day since Harold’s gift had been awoken and his control of the Cube had been mastered. Harold was troubled by what he had learned from the spirit of the falcon Samoil.

The falcon had said that he had been led to believe that the daemon was a weak daemon. That he had been lied to. This meant two things. One, the daemon was much stronger that Samoil had been expecting, and as such the prison was designed for a lesser being. If this was the case then the prison may not hold indefinitely. Whilst this was a horrific problem in itself, the second problem was worse.

Samoil had been betrayed by one of his own. A member of the organisation had told Samoil that a weak daemon had broken through onto our plain. Samoil had been sent to his death by a traitor among the organisation of protectors. Glancing at Isis and Cintra Harold considered the implications.

Samoils’ words proved that this organisation of protectors was not pure. There were those among their number who were willing to use their gift for their own reasons. Could he therefore trust Cintra and Isis? They had proven themselves to be friendly. It would be very hard to consider Cintra being a traitor. Isis seemed to be lacking in self-esteem. Harold had noticed that he seemed very awkward around Oxyura. No, Harold felt he could trust these two. Nothing either of them had done made him doubt them. Even so, Harold would not blindly trust others of the organisation.



Oxyura had listened as Harold went over the directions to the forest in which Gregor had his lair. It had taken far longer than it should have due to her excited way she was looking after the baby, the baby they had chosen to name Cara. Despite his wish to hurry there, to have his vengeance, he was having severe difficulties with his new found power.

Whilst Harold could feel it within himself, he could not access his gift at will. He could find the well inside himself, but didn’t have a bucket on a string to reach in and use it. Also his two new friends were trying very hard to convince him to go to the organisation before journeying on towards Gregor.

Despite his wish to hurry, Harold was beginning to think this might be for the best. After speaking with them about it, it had been decided that they would leave today; now in fact.

Standing at the edge of the forest of the Wisps, Harold and Oxyura waited as the snake and Wisp came to join them.

“No. Baby not safe. No ungifted in organisation. Must stay here” Cintra seemed to be having a fit in the air. The two ducks looked at Isis, the baby asleep in Oxyura’s arms.

“I am afraid he is right. The road is no place to bring up a child, and neither of you would be able to enter Salavar Keep. It would be best if the ladies stayed here.”

“No” Harold roared “I will not be separated from those I love. If I am going to the keep then they are coming with me.” Cara awoke with the noise and started to cry and Oxyura cuddled her against herself, cooing softly into her ear. The rest of the group stayed silent, Harold’s face a mask of indignation.

“It is not through a wish to upset you that I say this Harold. The keep is a place of magic. It was created in the distant past when the gift was much stronger that it is now. The magical forces that hold it together provide the defences that make it impregnable and allow the organisation to do their job make it a place that the ungifted cannot survive. The magic of the place is in the very air that you breathe. Think of the keep as the sea, and of those with the gift as amphibians. The gifted can survive in the water and on the land. The ungifted have only lungs, they can go into the water, but must leave to breath.”

“As for the journey to the keep, you know what happened on the way here. Do you really think that a new born baby would survive easily living its first months doing that?”

Harold looked chagrined, and looked at the floor.

“I know it would be difficult and dangerous, but I don’t want to leave them” Harold looked into Isis’ eyes, “please, don’t do this” he begged.

“Harold. The baby needs good and constant sustenance, something which will be undeliverable on the road”

Oxyura interrupted “Cara feeds from me. She needs no other food”

“And how do you expect to be able to feed her when you cannot even feed yourself. We cannot take a forest-full of supplies with us. It will be trail food that we will live on. And what if she starts to cry at a truly inopportune moment? We could all die because you insist on carrying a child on a foolish journey when you know that you would be better off here. The Wisps can protect the both of you. There is ample food here and the woman folk will be able to help you look after the child.”

Shame blemished across Oxyura’s face and the fight left Harold. Fear shot through him, closely followed once more by the numbness he had thought he had escaped from.

Harold blinked the tears from his eyes and with a voice hardly more than a whisper he asked Isis “They will be safe here, won’t they?”

“Yes Harold. The Wisps are strong and will keep them safe. The females run the show really, and they adore both of them.”

Cintra nodded his agreement and then flew off a way, considering the matter settled, giving Harold a chance to say his farewells.



Harold and Oxyura looked at each other, tears falling freely. Cara rested peacefully in Oxyura’s arms as Harold leant over and stroked the ducklings head.

“Be good for mummy Cara. I’ll be back before too long.” The baby smile din its sleep, and Harold looked up into the eyes of his love.

“Stay safe my dear. Have as much fun as you can and I’ll be back in no time. You won’t even notice I’m gone”

Harold smiled through his tears and pulled her head close kissing her.

Isis and Cintra were talking among themselves, leaving the two to it. As the ducks broke apart and Harold came over to them, Oxyura ran over.

“Take care of him” she pleaded

“He safe. I here. No one get past Cintra. I am the best of the Wisps. I dance even though I am big.” Cintra grinned at Oxyura and nodded “don’t let anyone say they better than Cintra, stay away from boys when they drink. The women are more fun for you”

“We’ll keep his safe Oxyura. Have no fear about that.”

She nodded and turned once more to leave, stroking Harold’s wing as she left.

“Come on then” mumbled Harold. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we are back”





**************



Errion frowned in his chamber. Sat at the head of the hall, he stared around at the gathered gifted. Groups spoke in whispers, occasionally glancing up towards him. The tension in the air was palpable. It had been many years since a gathering had been called for any reason. All of the masters of the gift currently staying at the keep were present, well, all but Gunther.

Errion sighed to himself as he tried to ignore the panicked expressions on his guests. The dreary waters that filled the centre of the room gave the quiet echoes of words a haunting tinge. The shadows from the single chandelier held twelve feet above the centre of the room twisted dramatically seeming to become alive with malice as the door opened and Gunther sauntered in.

The conversations died as he took up his place opposite Errion. A self-assured grin, seemingly reaching his left eye due to a claw shaped scar, lit his features.

“May we hurry and complete this business Errion; squirrels have no use for damp and lifeless places such as these” Gunther scratched at his thigh, furless due to a miscast spell and covered in scar tissue.

Errion scowled at the squirrel, mistrust layered over mild fear. When Gunther grinned at you in this manner you tended to get the feeling he was trying to figure out the most painful way to kill you.



“As you all know the gift is failing. We are weaker that our ancestors, there are fewer and fewer of us being born. The boundary between life and death is being breached more and more often by stronger and stronger beings. We are failing in the task that the gods assigned to us.”

A tremble passed through the gathering, angry voices mumbled complaints but Errion’s eyes were on Gunther who snorted the grin reaching his eyes for a fraction of a second.

“A number of years ago Darcy was sent out to acquire the Cube from Gregor. He succeeded, but refused to hand the Cube over to us, saying he believed it to be too dangerous for us to control. Not long ago Darcy was killed. His son, Harold, not has the Cube in his possession.”

Errion glared at his audience, silencing their growing agitation.

“Cintra and Isis are with him to keep him safe. I have advised them to impress upon him the importance of coming to the keep first, before heading off to avenge his parents. Whilst I know I can trust them to do this, I also know that they cannot control him or force him to come against his will. If he insists on heading towards Gregor’s domain prior to coming here, they have been instructed to go with him, try to keep him safe, and bring us the Cube when he falls.

Silence followed, suddenly Gunther jumped up the grin had completely left his face.

“Are you mad you foolish old toad? You will allow the cube to enter into Gregor’s forest?” Never before had another had the courage to speak to Errion in this manner. The squirrels face was twisted in passion “the sparrow-hawk can sense the cubes presence. The second he realises that it is heading towards him he will head out himself. Even if he doesn’t you actually believe that Isis or Cintra could protect themselves against Gregor’s’ hoards, let alone the Cube.”

“Silence” commanded Errion, his own wrath boiling to match Gunther’s, the magic laced in his words stuck the squirrels tongue to the roof of him mouth. The squirrels hands shot up to his mouth, his rage growing as his vision tunnelled.

“These are my halls and you will show me respect here.” The tone of Errion’s voice made it clear that there would be no argument.” Calm yourself Gunther, or I promise you I will do it myself.” His words ended in a whisper as Gunther paused, seeming to consider his options. He sat, the anger leaving his eyes making them emotionless once more.

“As it turns out I agree with you. Whilst I trust those two implicitly, I feel that there should be another with them, someone who has a bit more oomph about them, someone who knows how to fight to the death when it is necessary; someone who fully understands the importance of keeping the cube from Gregor.”

Gunther glared at Errion

“Unfortunately I cannot go myself, as Gunther pointed out, I am an old toad who’s sanity is constantly being questioned.” Nervous laughter passed through the hall and Errion smiled to himself as he looked down at the pool.

“I do have a second choice though” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he stared at visions only he could see or understand. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts Errion was once again all business.

“Gunther, you shall leave with first light. You can sense the power of the cube. Find them and keep them safe. Bring them back here with their lives.”

The hall exploded with conversation as Errion finished speaking. The animosity between the two was well known. No one would expect Errion to choose Gunther for any task. Some considered that Errion considered it a suicide mission, and was using it to get rid of an opponent.

As the activities of the hall bordered on pandemonium, Gunther and Errion met eyes. They both knew the reasons, but neither one liked them. Gunther might have been an obnoxious and narcissistic opponent to Errion, but he was one of the few who Errion could trust that actually had the power to succeed.

Of course, there was also the possibility that Errion could lose one of his challengers.