The Child Thief

Several heads shook in dire disapproval, but the Lady smiled. “Why yes, dear Hiisi. By all means, proceed.”

Hiisi smiled, flicked his eyebrows, then cleared his throat. “I bestow a special troll. One who is dear to heart when he is apart, and hard to bear when he is near. But his lack of charm does no harm. Yes, the harbinger of doom and gloom is back in the room.” He inclined his head across the table to a tall figure cloaked in long, tattered gray robes. “Back from his daring jaunt across the lands of men-kind, I give you no other than— Tanngnost.”

The troll, who didn’t look as though he appreciated his introduction in the least, stood up to a spattering of weak applause. He appeared more beast than man, much taller than the elves, taller even than any man Peter had ever seen. He was stooped and appeared ancient but not frail; solidly built, like a stag. His legs were those of a great woolly elk, while his upper body resembled that of a man. A mane of sand-colored hair rolled down his shoulders in thick tangles, framing a long, goatlike snout. Golden, intelligent eyes peered out from beneath thick, drooping brows. Broad horns curled outward from the sides of his head, and thick tusks jutted from his mouth.

Under most circumstances, such an imposing beast would have frightened Peter, but something in this creature’s bearing spoke of graciousness, even refinement.

The troll bowed to the Lady, cleared his throat. “I am at your service,” he said in a deep baritone. “It is truly an honor to attend the ever-fair Lady Modron, daughter of Avallach, Great Lady of the Lakes, Goddess of—”

“Yes, yes, don’t you start with all that silliness,” the Lady said, waving her hand as though shooing a fly. “You’ll not flatter me. You want something or you’d not be here my dear Tanngnost. Something besides the feasting; which I see you’ve done your share.”

The troll dropped a guilty glance at the five dirty plates stacked before him.

“What ill tidings do you bring today?” she asked. “Go on, spill the beans. Get it over with.”

Tanngnost inclined his head. “Lady, you mustn’t slay the messenger.”

“A very wise old saying indeed,” Hiisi interjected. “Unless of course that messenger so happens to be a minder, meddler, and manipulator of other people’s business.”

This brought plenty of snickers from around the tables.

Tanngnost gave the Lady a long-suffering look. “Modron, if I may be so bold? How did the visit with your father go today?”

The table fell quiet and all eyes turned to the Lady.

The Lady’s face clouded.

Tanngnost let out a regretful sigh. “I see.”

Somber murmurings hummed around the tables and several folk began to speak at once.

“Why has Avallach abandoned us?” the boar called out, his words slurred. “Why now, when we need him most?”

“Why does he not hear us?” an elf demanded.

“He is dead,” shouted a smallish gray man with donkey ears.

“No, not dead. Avallach cannot die you ass. He is just gone.”

“We’re lost without his hand,” someone cried from under the table.

“We’ve angered him,” added a peevish green man with leaves for hair.

“We must placate him.”

“A living sacrifice!” a rosy-cheeked lady cried out.

The plump folk all raised their mugs and cheered at that. “Blood, blood, blood.”

“AVALLACH IS GONE!” the Lady spoke, her voice commanding, not loud, yet somehow rising above the ruckus. She came to her feet, eyes gleaming, her shadow growing tall, darkening the room. She looked both beautiful and dangerous, and for a moment, Peter was afraid. The room fell quiet. “It is time we all accept that.” She looked from face to face, daring any to challenge her. “We are his children. But do we wish to be children forever? It is time we face our trials on our own.”

No one spoke for a long minute.

“Aye,” the boar said, setting a hand on the table to steady himself. “That’s very stoic and all, my Lady, but where does that leave us? I mean really? What are we supposed to do with that?”

“It means it’s time to stop waiting for Avallach to save you,” called a boy’s voice.

All eyes turned to find Ulfger standing in the doorway. He walked in and stood next to the Lady. “It’s time to end the decadence and debauchery. To think about something other than wine and lust and song. It is time for Avalon to embrace order and discipline or die.”

The boar dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “With all due respect Lord Ulfger.” The boar let out a short burp. “I’d rather not be preached to by a boy.”

“Maybe it would do you some good to give him a listen,” the troll said.

“Those are not even his words,” the boar stammered as he refilled his goblet. “We all know he’s merely a mouthpiece for his mudder, muther—his mother.”

Ulfger stiffened and the Lady set a hand on his shoulder.

“And where is your father, Lord Ulfger?” the boar growled. “Where is the mighty Horned One? Why does he not come and talk with us?”

“That is not his way,” Tanngnost said. “You know that well enough.”

“I know he’s not here,” the boar said. “Just what does it take to bring him out of his deep dark forest cave?”

This was met with expectant nods and lively quibbling, and again the chamber disintegrated into bickering.

The Lady’s shoulders slumped and she sat back into her chair. Her eyes drifted away as though she were somewhere else. She looked very sad to Peter, and he wanted to go to her, wanted to do whatever he could to cheer her up. Then her eyes found him and she smiled. She came to her feet. “Today I was sent a gift.”

The room quieted as one by one the occupants looked her way.

“Maybe it came from Avallach, maybe it sprouted from a cabbage. Either way, a most wonderful delight.” She pointed to Peter.

All heads turned to Peter. He blushed and slid behind Drael.

“This boy fell into the clutches of Greenteeth herself,” she said. “Did he wait for Avallach to save him? No, not him. This brave child singlehandedly burned out the witch’s eye and escaped from her very lair!”

An astonished gasp came from every attendee at the table. Several stood to get a better view of Peter.

“Lord Ulfger is right. We can no longer afford to wait for Avallach. Like this boy, we need to save ourselves. We need to take all the wonderful gifts that Avallach has bestowed upon us and make good use of them.

“Peter,” the Lady called. “Don’t be bashful. Come here and sit beside me.”

The old elf nudged Peter and Peter dashed over to the Lady’s chair. The Lady pulled him into her lap.

“Where did he come from?” the boar asked.

“From the lands of men-kind,” the Lady said. “Through the stones.”

Hiisi poked one of Peter’s feet. “What is he?”

“A human boy, I think,” the Lady said. “But look.” She flipped back his hair, exposing the pointed tips of his ears. “He seems to have some faerie in him as well.”

They all leaned forward.

“Modron,” Ulfger said. “What does he have to do with—”

“Tanngnost?” the Lady asked. “How can such come to be?”

“Most curious,” Tanngnost said. “I’ve never seen the like. Have you?”

The Lady shook her head. “I didn’t know it was possible.”

“Does he not remember his parents?”

“Not his father,” the Lady said. “His mother was human. It was she that left him to die in the forest.”

“Men-kind are such cruel beasts,” the boar huffed.

“So, the faerie in him comes from his father,” Tanngnost remarked absently and stroked his hairy chin.

“Modron,” Ulfger said. “This is exactly why nothing ever gets done. We need to discuss—”

“Maybe one of the satyrs,” the boar suggested, and everyone looked to the red-skinned, horned man.

Hiisi grinned. “Well, I’ve certainly fucked my way through every young maiden I could catch. But to my knowledge, all I’ve ever left behind in those sullied maidens was the flush of orgasmic delights.”