Tyr and Else on the Road

Ashe crumpled up the fifth wrapper and pushed his plastic tray back away from him. An empty bag of French fries sat alongside a mangled chicken nugget box in silent testimony to the massive amount of food he had just consumed. A few scattered fries were all that was left in the wake of his passing. Ashe's stomach rumbled a contented response the feast and set about its task of digesting with all expediency.

Across the table from him Else was still picking at the last of her salad. She hefted a forkful of lettuce, glaring at it with one eye, as if inspecting it. At last she sighed and shoved the green mass into her mouth. Her jaw worked for a few minutes, and then her tongue flicked out and wiped the corners of her mouth seeking a rouge dollop of ranch dressing. She looked with frustration at her meager salad and Ashe's huge tray of processed meat, chicken, and cheese product.

"Why can't I eat meat again?" she asked while eyeing the counter where several employees were working the late shift.

"Because you're different now, one of the Fae-folk." Ashe settled into what Else had come to call lecture mode because of the tone he took with her. The normally quiet Ashe could drone on for hours on certain subjects, his large store of Fae lore being one of them. She rolled her eyes and prepared for another of his longwinded speeches.

"It's rather simple when you think about it. Your faerie soul is attached to whichever Kith you descend from. You are Pooka, even as I am Troll. Within that Kith there are numerous variations and ethnicities. For example, though all Eshu descend from the same part of the world there is wondrous variety in their skin color, eyes, and dress. With Pooka there is even greater variation, due the fact that your heritage expresses itself in a zoological form. And in your case that of the equine variety. "

"And this means what to me again? " she looked at him with that skeptical glare that teenagers master right about her age. "What I asked is why I have to eat grass, I really enjoy the biology lesson."

"But that's the point. In some ways biologically you are a horse�sort of." Ashe noticed her eyes narrowing and her chin taking the posture that meant somehow he'd managed to insult her. Was he this impossible at 16? He wished he could remember. "A very pretty horse�err. Yes, pretty."

"That's a load of�" she began.

"Now wait a minute. Who's the Squire here?" Ashe crossed his arms and looked her straight in the eyes. "If I say you eat salads from now on, or apples, or lick sugar cubes and salt then so be it young lady." He picked up both trays and set one on top of the other. Then he gave them to her.

"I'm goin. Stupid�blue�don't care�" Her voice trailed off as she walked over toward the nearest garbage bin. Ashe shook his head and looked out the window. The parking lot of the fast food restaurant was nearly empty but a feeling told him that there was wrong out there. Like a shadow watching him through the glass window. He stood up and grabbed his green army surplus bag and Else's things as well. He had a sudden feeling they should be on their way. And though only Sir Bran and Count Ewan ap Liam knew that he and Else were travelling to Boston to investigate the rumors of the Shadow Court's possible involvement in the upcoming Ducal succession, there was always the possibility that the Unseelie Fae had discovered this.

"Hey, Ashe. You gonna stare out the window all night or are we gonna hit the road?" Else was standing near him peering over his shoulder. She could just see the reflection of his too-green eyes past the sunglasses he seemed to always wear.

"No. We should go." He hefted his bag and headed towards the door. Else kept looking out the window, straining to see into the night. But there was nothing there.


From the shadow of the trees he watched the two figures leaving the neon gilded restaurant and head across the parking lot towards the bus station. He had been trailing them for days. Following them since they had left Caer Arbor and slowly made their way towards Boston and Caer Asterlan. He knew now that he would have to move soon. Once they were on the bus too much could go wrong. Besides, the Troll wouldn't run from a fight. Especially now that he had sworn Oaths to the accursed Scathach House. They and the damned Count Ewan of the Liam would pay for interfering in his Lord's plans.

He put a small tin whistle to his lips and softly blew a harsh off tone note. In seconds a trio of brown-black shapes slunk silently to his side through the underbrush. They stood taller than a good size dog, with hungry pale eyes and blackened teeth. To his Fae eyes they were even larger, with three glowing blue eyes and a single claw which extended from the back of their front paws.

He raised his leather gauntleted hand and pointed at the dwindling figures. He then spoke a word which was so foul that the trees and grass around him recoiled in horror. The wolf-creatures silently loped off out of the tree-line and after the targets.

He was going to take a special pleasure in this. Once he had eliminated Sir Ashe and his Squire, he could end that fool Bran and his wife. And then it would be a simple matter to have the Count removed, for the old fool was only still in power thanks to the efforts of those two interlopers. His Lordship would be happy to hear that Caer Arbor was ripe for the taking. The Seelie fools would never know what hit them. And besides, he might even be made a Knight for his troubles instead of an Apprentice.

He crept forward out of the bushes and onto the lot of the fast food joint. His tattered black clothing hung about his sallow, pale skin like a shroud. He was bald and clean shaven, with sunken, shadowed eyes and a small pointed chin and nose. Yellowish rheumy eyes were the only color in his corpselike mask of a face. He walked across the lot and focused his sharpened senses on the young man and girl. They were oblivious to the approach of his servants, who would catch up to them as the crossed the dark and deserted loading area behind a small strip mall. Not even the moon shone tonight.

A slow smile crept across his features, like the rictus grin of a corpse.


"Are you sure it's this way?" Ashe asked finally. They had been walking for only a few minutes but she had managed to lead them into the back area for trucks behind a mini-mall. He looked up at the feeble street lamps and starless sky and shook his head. A piece of trash blew past him and caught on his left boot. He shook it off and tried to see where Else was leading them.

"Oh just come on�it can't be much farther."

"Right." Ashe couldn't shake the feeling itching at the back of his neck. Else had it too, for her normally bright and cheerful tone had allowed some fear to crawl in at the edges. On impulse he whirled around suddenly and almost instantaneously wished he hadn't. "Else, run!"

About twenty feet away three massive wolf-creatures were running towards them. To Ashe's Fae senses they resembled Winterwulfen, creatures of Dreaming legend who would hunt unwary travelers in the northern lands. But these were odd in that they were night colored instead of mottled gray and white. It made their jaws no less deadly though.

Before he could think the first one slammed into his chest, its chimerical seeming scratching against the armour he wore. The second continued past him aiming for Else, who was just realizing what was happening. She kicked a puddle at her feet spraying water into the eyes of the beast and making it turn aside its charge. The third joined its companion in attacking Ashe.

With a face full of fur the Troll grabbed the throat of one to hold its jaws away from him. Frosty breath flowed down his arm and its blue eyes blazed as the beast struggled to bite him. The other one bit down on his leg but its teeth were turned aside by his boots. He managed to pull out his chimerical dagger and jab the caught Winterwulf in the throat once, then twice. Black blood, cold as ice ran down his arm.

The creature facing Else growled and circled her slowly. She had pulled her chimerical short sword out and stood like Ashe had shown her, feet shoulder width apart and the blade tip extended, level with her eyes. As if daring her to move the beast turned its flank to her, but she saw its eyes never left the point of her sword. She simply waited patiently, unconsciously pawing at the ground with her left foot.

Ashe had backed away from the third Winterwulf, only to find that it had left him to pursue Else. Instead a black clad stranger stood before him, his Fae features marking him as Sluagh or at least kin to them. The figure carried a long spear, and from the flinty shine on both the pointed tip and butt cap the weapon was forged with cold iron. The figure set the polearm spinning around his waist and shoulders. And an evil smile lit his features as he inched toward Ashe.

The Troll held his hand open and concentrated, in an instant a plain ancient looking Viking longsword appeared. The two circled each other for a moment and then as if reading the others thoughts, lashed out with their weapons. Ashe was amazed at the speed with which his opponent moved, but knew he was the stronger. Schylding, his sword, lent him the strength of his Titan ancestors. And so the two clashed again and again, neither one the victor. Both fought silently, only the intake and exhalation of controlled breaths could be heard.

Only a few feet away, Else watched as her master battled what looked to be a mummified Sluagh. But she had her own problems to deal with. Such as the second Winterwulf joining the other in a slow cirlce around her. She desperately tried to recall what Ashe had taught her about wolves and survival anf anything which would help. At last she had an idea.

Reaching into her pocket she popped a Red Hot candy into her mouth and sucked on it for dear life. The she raised her right hand and gestured at the first of the beasts. She felt the Glamour leave her but also felt the Dreaming respond as a blast of fire, more powerful than she had intended, exploded in the air above the creature. Flames washed over it and it seemed like the Winterwulf melted before her eyes. The second leapt back in terror. So she turned and pointed at it as well. And nothing happened.


Story by Scott Coutcher

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