Alton
and Velda is a fantasy I've been working on. Revanth is a man who's
been enchanted into a horse by a swamp naiad named Eleion. He and his
Wood Sprite friend, Alton, go to see her to get her to break the
spell, so they can rescue their lady loves.
“You
seem quite certain you can defeat me, Wood Sprite. Here in the heart
of my swamp, I am queen. You might harm me, but my swamp will swallow
you alive before you can enjoy it.”
“Will
you help us?”
She
eyed them critically. “I don't know.”
“I
give you one last chance to say yes,” Alton said. “Will you,
Eleion the Witch, help us?”
“Not
today.”
Suddenly,
she was off her feet, hanging in mid air. Screeching, she flailed
around, trying to work her magic. An unseen force kept her airborne.
Alton smiled up at her.
“You're
sure, are you? That's your final answer? I can keep you up there
indefinitely, Witch. A Wood Sprite has a few skills, you know.”
“Not
this, not an air spell! How can you? You're of the Earth and Wood.”
“That
would be telling. I can leave you, high and dry, until you dry up and
fall to dust,” Alton said. “Or, you can give us the aid we
require. Which is it?”
“I'll
help you!”
“You
will give your unimpeded word,” Alton said. “You are bound by it,
just as I am. You will not harm us in any way, nor will you cause,
directly or indirectly, for harm to come to us. You will not impede
us, nor cause us to be impeded. You will not slow us—”
“Enough!
Obviously, you have dealt with my kind before.”
“I
have dealt with you enough to know that I will say the rest of the
oath, or I'll kill you now and leave you to rot in your filthy
swamp.”
He
continued to bind her will and intentions, giving her the Deal
Maker's Oath. It was equally binding to both parties. If she wanted
to be protected, she had to accept.
“Do
I have your promise that you will not harm me if I help you?”
Eleion said, somewhat subdued.
“You
have my promise that I will not harm you, if you aid us as we need.”
The
rest of the deal was struck. Alton, having dealt with witches a time
or two dozen before, knew how to give her very little leeway. As
protected as he could hope to be, he spit on his palm, lowering her
enough to clasp her spit covered palm.
“Let
me down,” Eleion demanded. “I can't work up here.”
“As
you wish,” Alton said, lowering her with a thump.
Eleion
advanced, poking her long, sharp nailed finger into his chest. “I
know you, Sprite. You and I have crossed paths before. We shall
again. The next time, I won't wait for a deal, I'll kill you where
you stand.”
“You'll
try,” Alton said with a smile. “Now, for our deal. You have
agreed to change my friend back to his former self. And no tricks, or
your head is mine.”
Digging
her toes into the mud, Eleion spoke in a guttural language that made
Alton's skin crawl. The hair on his head and body stood at attention,
making him feel quite peculiar. It was nothing to the effect it had
on Revanth. He collapsed to his knees, gulping and retching. His body
shivered and shook, his bones snapping and cracking. The horse
writhed on the ground, pawing the air with his hooves as he tried to
breathe. With a scream that sounded as much human as horse, he lay
still.
“You've
killed him!” Alton drew his sword. “If you have lied to me,
Witch!”
A
moan at his feet greeted his sensitive ears. The horse body fell to
black dust, coating the naked man within. Squinting against the
light, Revanth rolled to his hands and knees. Rocking back on his
heels, he raised his hands in front of his face, marveling at them.
“I'm
myself again! I am a man! Thank you, Eleion!” He grasped her arms
as if he intended to kiss her, but stopped himself. “You did this
to me, you foul hag!” He took a step toward her, but stopped as his
feet took root in the mud. Wild-eyed, he gazed beseechingly at his
friend.
“Peace,
brother. You have thanked her for your release, but take no action
against her.” His dark green eyes flickered and he shook his head.
“I
lost myself for a moment. Brother, do you have spare clothing? I can
hardly walk around the land without my pants.”
Alton
chuckled, digging in his pack. He handed Revanth his clothing. The
binding on him receded and he was able to dress.
“The
other part of our deal, Witch,” Alton said. “I don't wish to
sully my blade with that swamp water you call blood.”
“You
could make an effort to be more polite, Alton of Lyndon Meade,”
Eleion spat. “You don't remember, do you? Who I am? How we met?”
She grasped him firmly between the legs, rubbing hungrily. “Do you
remember now—lover?”
Taking
a step back, he pushed at her. “I remember you did your best to
suck the life from me and leave me to die—lover. Ill met one night
when I'd had more mead than sense. A less than satisfactory tumble, I
must say.”
“Wait!”
Revanth said, struggling with his pants. “You know her?”
“In
every sense of the word,” Alton replied, his tone cold. “She
lured me to her, pretending to be Velda. It was the first time I was
unfaithful, shortly after we met. Then, the witch tried to kill me
for her amusement. Velda banished her here, to live the best she
could amongst the slime and putrid gasses. You deserved worse. Your
sister was kind.”
“They
are sisters?” Revanth paled. “Is that why you told us to
seek her out? Why you ruined my life? Revenge because she had the man
you couldn't have, except by trickery?”
Revanth
snatched Alton's sword from his scabbard. Swinging it in a tight arc,
he severed Eleion's head from her shoulders. The ground rumbled as
her head fell. The water rose, lapping and grabbing at their feet.
“Run!”
Alton said.
“This
way!” Old Jon called from a tangle of trees not far away.
“The
deal,” Revanth said, halting. “I broke the deal! What will
happen?”
“Run!”
Alton urged. “The swamp will eat us alive if we give it a chance.”
They
followed Old Jon to his holding. The world around them shuddered and
shook violently. Trees, bushes and grasses tried to trip them.
Animals crossed their path, but they cast them aside. Once back at
Old Jon's land, they stopped running. Though the trees and mud
writhed and reached for them, they could do no harm to the three men.
Gulping air, Revanth leaned over, supporting himself with his hands
on his knees.
“I
broke the deal. I killed the witch! What have I done?”
“Saved
us all a lot of trouble,” Old Jon said, grinning. “And you didn't
break the deal.”
“But
how? We promised no harm would come to her.”
“No,”
Alton said, smirking. “I
promised I would do her no harm. I never said you
wouldn't. When she said you will not harm me, she chose to
mean both of us. But, you couldn't speak then, only I. You couldn't
give your word, therefore, the oath wasn't binding to you. For the
purpose of the deal, you meant only me. One small word has
saved us from destruction.”
“How
could she be held accountable to help me, then?”
“Because,
my friend, I said us.”
©
2016 Dellani Oakes
