Kell's Legend

piston was bowed or bent, each gear buckled. Kell shook his head; he didn’t understand such things. Looking around, he grasped a handful of dead leaves and started cleaning the twin axe blades.
    “Old horse! Why didn’t you wait for us? You’ve had all the fun!”
    Kell glanced up, gradually, to see Saark leading his horse amidst the flesh and clockwork debris. The clearing—the creatures had smashed the trees into a clearing—appeared as a minor battlefield. Blood gleamed everywhere. The ground was littered with brass and steel clockwork mechanisms.
    Kell said nothing.
    “It’s fine,” Saark called back through the trees. “Kell’s heroically battled three cankers and the Stone Lion, and managed to kill them all!”
    Saark stopped before Kell, who watched Nienna and Kat appear, faces shocked by the carnage. The horses were skittish, and they tied them to a tree by the edge of the battle and moved to Kell. Nienna hugged him, and he smiled then, but his eyes never left Saark.
    “I injured the Stone Lion,” he said. “Then I ran. But there was no horse for me.” There was a dark gleam in Kell’s eye, a suggestion of violence in his stance, and Saark noticed Kell did not lower his axe.
    “We left a horse for you, old boy,” said Saark, voice lowering, humour evaporating. “Didn’t we, girls?”
    “We left your horse,” said Kat, smiling uncertainly, not understanding the tension in the air.
    “We did, grandfather,” said Nienna, putting her hand on Kell’s torn bearskin. “I saw Saark tie the creature myself. He is not to blame if it escaped.”
    Saark held his hands wide. “An accident, Kell. What, you think I’d leave you to die back there?”
    Kell shrugged, and turned his back on the three, gazing off through the trees. His emotions raged, but he took a deep breath, calming himself.
    Once, said Ilanna, in his mind, in his soul, you would have killed him for that.
    I would have questioned him.
    No. He would already be dead.
    That was in the bad days! he stormed. When I was so drunk on the whisky I didn’t know what I wasdoing. Those were evil days, Ilanna, and you used to fuel me, used to feed me, used to push me towards violence every step of the way, only so you could taste blood yourself, you depraved fucking whore!
    Kell turned and faced Saark, and forced a smile. “I apologise,” he said, as their eyes locked. “I mistrust too easily. There is a thing called a Fool’s Knot—the slightest pressure, and it slips. But of course, you would never use such a thing on me.”
    Saark grinned. “Of course not, Kell! In fact, I have only now just heard of such a knot, this very moment you mentioned it. Now. We are all exhausted, the girls are frightened, hungry, in a fiery agony of chafing from riding, and I fancy I saw evidence of civilisation only a few short leagues from this very spot.”
    “What kind of evidence?”
    “Traps. Trappers never stray too far from home. Come on, Kell! Think of it! Comfy beds, whisky, hot beef stew, and if we’re lucky,” he lowered his voice, leaning in close, “a couple of willing buxom wenches apiece!”
    “Show me the way,” said Kell, and frowned. Saark confused him; he wanted to believe the man, but his intuition told him to plant his axe in Saark’s head the first chance that arose. “If it was just me and you, I’d say no. I have a feeling the albino army is moving south; chasing us, effectively. It will destroy every damn town and village it hits, raiding for supplies and destroying buildings in the army’s wake so their enemies can’t make use. I have seen this before.”
    “But think of the girls,” said Saark, voice lower, playing to Kell’s weakness. “Think of Nienna.Frightened half to death, chased by horrible creatures, forced to fight for her life; she told me she and Kat were captured by evil woodsmen, who proceeded to-”
    “Tell me they didn’t!” Kell gripped his axe tight, eyes slamming over to Nienna.
    “No, no, calm down, Kell. The girls have their integrity. But it was only a matter of time; that Stone Lion you so effectively slew…” Saark peered at the dead creature, frowning, “Gods, did you cut off half its head? Anyway, that Stone Lion rescued them. The woodsmen were attacked by a canker, and the Stone Lion killed the canker. Saved their lives, but damn near frightened them to death! They need time to relax, Kell. They need normality.”
    “And you need an ale,” said Kell, staring hard at