Goron didn’t want to hear he’d just eaten an old woman. Bile rose to the back of his throat. He suddenly felt very dizzy and pitched off his log onto his hands and knees. His stomach did a summersault. The mountain of meat had had enough of this mistreatment and decided it wanted to escape.
A tidal wave of vomit gushed out of him, splashing in the fire with a hiss and sending up a foul-smelling steam cloud. “By Murdus,” Goron groaned and rolled onto his back into the cool, soothing moss.
Blodwen continued. “There are much older nymphs that come here. Marvark, an owl, often sits in my boughs. He is over six hundred years old. There is Lucas, a black bear, who came down from the mountains four hundred years ago. I remember the day like it was yesterday. And there is Osha, a fox, who…”
“Wait! Back up, the owl used to sit in your branches and four hundred years ago you met a bear from the mountains?”
“The willow tree you cut down. We are one. I am Blodwen, the Green Lady, Goddess of the Forest. I’ve been here since the mountains were young, drinking deep from its rivers, and watching over my children.”
“You’re a forest goddess?” He glanced at the mound of meat steaming on the verge of the fire and felt another wave of nausea.
“I am.”
Goron thought the firelight was playing tricks upon him. Blodwen appeared translucent, a shimmer of fading light.
I’ve always loved men and taken thousands as my lovers. I’ve admired their courage and pride, but most of all I’ve admired their lust. I was warned they would bring ruin to the forest, but I did not believe something I loved so much, something that was part of nature, could bring harm.” Blodwen threw her head back and laughed. Goron could hear the wind in her throat and the rustle of the trees. “I see now I was wrong.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know about the tree or the deer. I…I don’t think I’ll be able to eat meat again, not after tonight. His eyes went to the corpse still smouldering above the fire. “I’ll stay by your side and eat berries and leaves and whatever else you people eat. I’ll never harm another living thing.”
“You don’t understand.” Blodwen moved from the fire back to the tree, walking its long trunk to where it dipped into the river. Goron rose unsteadily to his feet and followed. It wasn’t a trick of the firelight, Blodwen was fading. He could see the water, shimmering in the moonlight, shining through her.
“When a lifetree dies, the goddess it gave birth to dies with it.” She sat down on the dying trunk and trailed her feet in the water. The water rippled as if a gentle breeze were blowing over it.
It was that damn curse again. Morwen had a lot to answer for. Blodwen’s death and the murder of that innocent forest nymph were on her, not him. “Is there anything I can do, plant one of the tree’s seeds and regrow you. I’ll water you every day and wait, I promise.”
“No,” she was completely translucent now. A vague outline against the moon-soaked river.
He sat down beside her and put his arm around her. His arm fell down to his side, she had no physical presence now.
“Live and love,” she said.
“I can’t, I’m cursed.” But she didn’t hear. Blodwen was gone.
Caroc never heard the toadoks. He felt a prick on his neck and slapped at the offending insect. His hand struck the feathered end of a dart, and he shouted a warning. The three of them rapidly turned into pin cushions as the air bristled with the pointed barbs.
Szat fell from Morwen’s shoulder and thudded to the ground.
Morwen sank to her knees. Her mouth worked soundlessly trying to cast one last spell to save them. The staff dropped from her limp fingers as she slumped onto the grass, and her lips ceased to move.
Caroc swayed on his weakening legs. He scanned the surrounding forest, desperate to see the enemy, but there were only the trees and an eerie silence. His fingers, now numb, released the arrow. It sailed harmlessly into the primal gloom. Too feeble to support his weight any longer, Caroc’s legs buckled, and he sagged to the ground.
He lay on his back and stared up at the trunks of the ruinwood trees that pointed to the heavens. Puffs of clouds floated above forming abstract patterns. The toadoks crept from the woods, no doubt cautious after their failed attack on Wichsault.
They squabbled over who would have the honour of delivering their guests to the chief. With that decided, they began the process of swallowing their prisoners—a longer process for the lean but six-foot-tall Caroc. The belly was full of partially digested fish, and the stench was pungent. He wondered if it was the same toadok as previously. If he had known he’d be back, he would have scratched ‘Caroc was here.’
Goron realized there would be no escaping his curse, no love in a faraway land. The curse had followed him deep into the wilds. His destiny was never to enjoy the ‘company of women’ again, nor, it seemed, meat. The very thought of eating flesh made him gag. What had he become?
He had to find the source of the blight destroying Wichsault. By finishing the quest, he had a chance that all would be returned to normality. As Wichsault’s saviour, he reasoned, it would be his right to make the odd demand, like having Morwen lift her curse.
Boosted by his reckoning, he ran back to the campsite where only a day before he’d abandoned his companions. It was deserted—he wasn’t surprised. They’d left his pack, ransacked as if by wild beasts. Food packets were torn and strewn around the campsite along with a few personal sundries. The only items untouched were
