In which a giant is slain, and Enessa claims her prize

The next day we awoke before dawn and ate a hurried breakfast by the embers of last night’s fire. As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, the Lord of the Hunt sent us on our way with an easy grin, not expecting, I don’t think, to see us again. Or not all of us at any rate. He had a more sincere smile for Enessa, and a look passed between the two of them which I found hard to judge. Raphael saw it too, and it seemed to me that his face was clouded with doubt before he turned away.
 
If it was so, then his suspicions were quickly confirmed. Once we were on the road, Enessa told us that she had made a separate pact with the fae Lord, to kill, with her own hand, a certain druid who was accompanying the giant. In payment for which feat of arms, and on presentation of a token which the druid carried on his person, she would receive a powerful magical bow. Should she fail, then she, together with Ussi, would give herself up as a slave, bound to labour on the Lord’s behalf with the rest of the hunters. She was happy, excited by the prospect of the bow, and undaunted by the fear of failure. Raphael looked as though he had bitten into a lemon, but he said nothing, simply walked pointedly to the back of the party and began speaking intently to Zeni about some arcane detail or other.
 
For myself, I was not sure what to think about Enessa’s bargain. More information has come to light about this arrangement now than it did then, but I shall tell the tale in the proper order.
 
Certainly, the Lord of Hunt had gone out of his way to flatter her, making it clear that he respected her skills and valued her hunting prowess, and I am sure that made her more inclined to take the risk of being bound to his service than she would otherwise have been. At the end of the day, a slave is a slave, whether petted and praised or not, and it was a truly dreadful risk to take.
 
But, I’m not going to say that she should not have done it just because I would not have done so - she made that choice freely, in her right mind, understanding the consequences, and facing them bravely.
 
Simeon suggested that if the druid died by some other means we could simply revive him for Enessa to kill once again. I was a little shocked at the suggestion that the holy power of restoring a departed soul to its body could be used for such legalistic maneuvers, but I could find no fault with his logic, and if he was confident that Sehanine would sanction such a dubious practice then under the circumstances I was certainly not about to argue with him.
 
We made as quick a progress as we could through the unfamiliar terrain but the forest floor was thick with plant growth, and it was heavy going for everyone. We had been told that close to where the giant and his followers could be found we would see corruption in the land, and we kept our eyes peeled for any sign of blight, but as yet there was no indication of anything amiss.
 
After a few hours walking we came to a river which was deep and fast enough to require some effort to cross, and then a little further on a second stream, this one traversed by a well made stone bridge. Looking over to the far side, some people thought that the trees looked a little strange, and so Wind cautiously scouted ahead. She had barely got to the other side of the stream when certain of the trees on both sides of the bridge began to behave in a most hostile manner, whipping their branches painfully across our faces, and even managing to pick up chunks of stone to hurl at those who managed to stay beyond their reach.
 
The fight was not long, but still they managed to get in some nasty blows, and, under time pressure as we were, we could only perform the most rudimentary of healing magics before moving on.
 
The next part of the walk was less pleasant, everyone was on edge now, and Enessa seemed less sure of the path. Afternoon began to dwindle toward evening, and the sky darkened. We seemed to walk in something like a wide arc, before doubling back on ourselves. The evening light low when we gradually began to notice that the sounds of the forest were becoming few and far between. The ground underfoot opened up, as dense underbrush gave way to brittle dead and dying stems. The very air here felt stagnant, and a sickly sweet scent of decay underlay the rich odour of the forest.
 
We moved forward as quietly as we could muster, Wind again, after a little persuasion, scouting ahead, looking for the source of a low growling sound which came and went as the breeze shifted direction. As we got closer, carefully following Wind’s lead, it became clear that what we could hear were words, spoken in the giant’s own language, a tongue which none of us could decipher. A large clearing opened ahead of us to the north, and as we approached the last trees before the open ground, we heard a shrill sound rather like a complex series of bird calls. The conversation, if such it had been, stopped instantly, and, before we could react, a volley of arrows fletched in the elven style, landed squarely on our apparently not so concealed position.
 
The sound that came next was a terrible baying howl, rough and guttural, with a rasping quality that made the all hairs stand up on the back of my neck. A huge black dog slunk out of the darkness, its body slender like that of a greyhound, but much larger, perhaps the size of a pony, and with an uncanny, almost humanlike face. It did not appear to be bound by gravity, its feet treading the air just as though it were solid ground. Everyone, except perhaps Orlando and Raphael, instinctively took a step back, looking around and considering escape routes, some raising hands to their ears to try to block out the awful yowls. I was relieved to be able to ascend higher and get a clear view of the field of battle.
 
Apart from this hound, and the Fomorian giant itself, the hostile party consisted of the druid which Enessa had been tasked to hunt, and several elven archers, although I was never clear how many of these there might have been, or how they all met their ends. Perhaps some may have slipped away in the glooming twilight, amongst the trees. Much of the battle was confusing and fragmented after all. At one point a huge wall of flame stretched much of the way across the clearing, cutting us off one from another, and scorching the already corrupted and blackened ground.
 
I got the sense that the druid made several other attempts to use magic, but was thwarted by a strange suppressing gesture from either Zeni or Raphael, which seemed to cause the magic to dampen and fail before the spell was even fully formed. It was strange to see, and the druid himself looked puzzled and then increasingly frustrated by whatever was happening. It is certainly a useful power, however it might work.
 
The giant itself fought hard, before eventually falling to an inspired shot from Wind which caught it directly in the left eye. Before it died, it managed to unleash some sort of curse against Enessa, causing her right arm to shrivel and weaken, and her back to twist out of shape. The very act of bending a bow in that condition must have been agony, but still Enessa loosed arrow after arrow, each one flying true and striking home, until, eventually, a shot found its way to the forehead of the druid, and he too fell into the dirt. Enessa whooped in triumph, and I think we all breathed a sigh of relief. She might not have doubted the outcome, but my heart had been in my mouth as the chaos of the battle raged around us and I could not see Enessa anywhere near the druid. Of course, I should have known that with Enessa, as indeed with many of the Unbroken, proximity is hardly necessary.
 
The token carried by the druid turned out to be a disc of black metal bearing the symbol of Lloth. A filthy thing, and I am glad that we did not have to carry it long. The druid’s body itself showed some troubling signs of corruption, but perhaps such things are more common in the faewild, I do not know.
 
The journey back was difficult and stressful. We were all tired, some finding it hard to keep their feet by the end. At first I had to summon Aoife so that Enessa could ride, such was the extent of the weakness imposed by Cachalain’s curse, but a few hours sleep en route was sufficient to restore her, and the next morning she walked into camp with her back straight and her head held high, the rest of us happy to cede to her the place of honour.
 
The Lord of the Hunt welcomed us back with apparent pleasure, leading his followers in a generous gesture of applause. He accepted the medallion of Lolth from Enessa’s hand, and promised her the reward which she had earned. His obvious distaste for Lolth reassured me, whatever else this Lord might be, he could recognise evil when he saw it at least.
 
With a casual wave of his hand, he freed the four men who had agreed to become shadow hounds in exchange for their lives. They were confused and disoriented, but seemed physically to be well enough when Simeon and I looked them over. I did my best to view them with compassion, and to treat them gently, but these were men who had sold away their very souls for nothing more than the right to continue to draw breath. They have been given a second chance, by the grace of the gods, and I hope that the future will offer them a chance to redeem themselves. Lady Vexalia deserves better servants than these poor wretches.
 
While we ministered to the restored men of Whitestone, Enessa was receiving the recompense for her own great gamble. She spoke with the Lord of the Hunt for quite some time, and we all glanced curiously over from time to time to see how the conversation seemed to be developing. Raphael stared openly, a look of concern growing on his face. We saw the Lord hand Enessa a great bow, beautifully inlaid and carved, and at least a foot longer than the one she had carried up till then. A mighty weapon, and obviously deeply magical. Enessa looked delighted, but her face became a little less certain as the conversation continued, and once or twice I saw a flicker of surprise, although at what I cannot say.
 
The Lord of Hunt insisted that we stay to breakfast (ignoring all protestations to the contrary), and asked that the tale of the battle with Cachalain be told. I obliged, of course, using my lyre to add depth and richness to my words. Rather conscious of how far I had forgotten myself last night, I told the tale plainly, just as the church teaches us to do, keeping to the matter without adornment and effacing my own role as far as possible. It was clear that Enessa was regarded as the hero of the moment, and I was glad to celebrate with her the relief and joy which she evidently felt. She joined in the story with gusto, acting out the more dramatic moments and at one point miming a hilarious parody of her own cursed form. The company fell about with laughter, and I am glad to say that almost everyone seemed in high spirits when I set down the lyre. Even those who had applauded but grudgingly on our return seemed to soften in their regard. I was pleased - glad to see that a true tale told simply in the old Vasselhiem style could find favour even here.

As we ate, Zeni asked a question which had been playing on my own mind as well - in so many tales of the faewild, the protagonists emerge back into their true lives only to find that years or even decades have passed, and their families and friends have grown old or are even dead. Of course I had faith that Bahamut would not allow such a cruel turn of events, but still, I was most curious to hear the answer. It was only partly reassuring, the Lord of the Hunt would assist us in the crossing, so he said, but even so he could guarantee nothing, and there was indeed a chance of inconsistency in the timelines. I sent up a heartfelt prayer, and tried to make my mind rest easy in the knowledge that the gods protect their servants from such evils. In that endeavour I was not entirely successful.
 
On our hurried march back through the wilds, we had glimpsed on occasion a shining golden tower some little distance away, and I think that had we had more time, some of our number would have been very tempted to investigate it further. Indeed, I think that a few might have been keen to go there even then, once breakfast was done. The Lord said some members of his entourage had made such forays in the past, but that none had so far returned. That dampened everyone’s enthusiasm for such a mission, but even so, he said that if we cared to try in the future, then he would grant us guest rights in this land while we travelled for that purpose. I did not find this offer even slightly appealing, but I could see both Wind and Zeni looking thoughtful.
 
As we gathered round, Enessa proudly showed off her new bow, which is truly a magnificent weapon. She told us that it was last wielded by one Sigruun, a champion of Melora in ancient days, and is known as Death’s Whisper. We all admired it, save for Raphael who glowered and said that gifts which come with prices are not gifts at all. Enessa raised an eyebrow and looked rather pointedly at Frostweaver, as indeed I think that we were all inclined to do, to which Raphael could only reply that the circumstances were very different. Sadly, this is very true, although taking that out on Enessa seemed rather unfair. Still, much worse was yet to come on that front.
 
Before we finally said farewell to the Huntsmen, the Lord’s conversation turned serious for a while. The holes which had opened up between the realms, both that which had admitted us, and that which had allowed the Fomorian in, were not of his making, and indeed, he did not know who had made them. That being must be powerful however, and he was troubled by the implications of what had happened. I don’t know what to make of this, but I intend to find out more information when I can. Too much is happening lately that I do not understand.
 
I prayed hard as we stepped up to make the leap through the invisible portal back to our own world, and when we arrived I was immensely glad to see that it looked just as we had left it. The bodies of the savagers were still piled high, and had hardly rotted at all, indeed much less than I might have anticipated in three days, and I let out a big sigh of relief.
 
What happened next was very confusing. Orlando, Sabali, Wind, and Simeon started asking when we were going through the portal, and who these extra men were who were accompanying us. I had barely begun to answer their questions when, pulling himself angrily to his feet after tumbling through the portal, Raphael started to shout violently at Enessa, who looked very taken aback.
 
It took me a moment to register what he was saying, but the essence of the matter was that he was not happy that Enessa had made a bargain with the Lord of Hunt. His anger was bitter and barely controlled, and his words and manner were insulting, calling her blind and stupid, and a foolish child. Having given vent to this tirade, he stormed off in the direction of the grove in which we had left Lady Vexalia. Most of what he had said was little more than a stream of invective, but there were two things which did concern me, firstly that Enessa had promised favours to the Lord, and secondly that she was now embroiled in some sort of fae war as a result.
 
Zeni, and then Sabali, followed hot on Raphael’s heels, while I remained to speak with Enessa. She was a little pale, understandably shaken by the unexpected ferocity of the attack, but she spoke calmly, explaining the business with the favours, and emphasising that she had the right to refuse to perform any task which she did not wish to do. That did not strike me as any sort of oath of service, which is the accusation which Raphael had made. I don’t think that Enessa was lying about that, she is, after all, not one to avoid responsibility for her actions, or seek to dissemble in that way.
 
Enessa is young, that much is true, but I have seen in her a sense of empathy and compassion which many who have far more years would do well to emulate. When it comes to these favours, the question does not seem to be one of compulsion, but of judgement, and I know her well enough now to trust her judgement. She can be terrifyingly reckless, yes, but she is also kind and open hearted. I think that Melora’s blessing, if such this bow truly is, might fit her well.
 
And so the favours were explained, to my satisfaction at least, but neither of us had any idea what this war amongst the fae that Raphael alluded to might be. I file that away as yet another question to be pondered over later, when there is leisure to do so.
 
For the present, I heard Enessa out, listening calmly and quietly, giving her the space to regain her composure and seeking to avoid another confrontation. I reassured her that no-one sees her as a child. Indeed, over these past months I have come to value her perspicacity just as much as her strength in arms. What neither of us said, but I suspect that she too was thinking, is that the right and opportunity to be a child had been taken from her, whether she wanted it that way or not.
 
She told me something else which I would not have understood a few days ago, but now I think perhaps I do, at least a little. She told me that she needs the hunt, she and Ussi, that it is an itch that she must scratch. There was an odd yearning in her voice as she spoke, and I recognised it. It was the same yearning which was threaded through the music of the hunters. I don’t feel this urge, I doubt that I ever will, but I know what she is speaking about because that is how such music works. It gets into your bones and leaves traces there of things you might never have an inkling of otherwise.
 
I don’t know why Raphael is so appalled by Enessa’s bargain. What happened to him was a terrible violation, as I have said before, but this is not at all the same, and anyway he does not even recognise Mab’s behaviour as wrong. Enessa did this with the choice clear before her, in full command of her faculties, and even now she retains control over her own actions. I can only wish that even one of those conditions were met in Raphael’s own case.
 
Orlando, may the gods bless and keep him, despite having, as it turns out, no memory of the past three days and therefore no doubt being incredibly confused, not just by Raphael but by everything else, still recognised what needed to be done even without the context and managed to keep the others from interrupting Enessa and I, or rushing off after Raphael. As Zeni appeared back with Lady Vexalia in tow, I gave him a very grateful look and mouthed a promise to explain everything on the walk back.
 
Zeni and Sabali were alone when they returned, save for the Lady, with no sign of Raphael, and both looked stressed. Enessa made a show of perfect indifference, and responding to my questioning look, Zeni said that things are okay, to be patient.
 
I hope that she is right. Raphael’s behaviour is baffling to me. I would have thought that he would have felt, however mistakenly, rather vindicated by someone else in this group having dealings with the fae, but apparently I am wrong in that supposition. Is it because of this war? I need to understand this situation better, but I am at a loss as to who to ask. Perhaps someone in Whitestone will know more.