Two nights after Alexis shares his Avv tale, during a rest while exploring the caves, Telosh begins his tale:
—
There is no truth like the truth of a tale told in the hills for generations, as my Gran used to say….
A plain young boy from a poor family, Ajax goes out to seek his fortune with no money to speak of, despite his parents’ wish for him to stay home and scratch at the earth with them.
After a few days of following the trail from his home, it joins a road. After a few more days on the road, Ajax comes to an even split in the road, a T so to speak.
At this junction, there is a large cherry tree that has provided shade for travellers to camp under for many years. The cherries are small, but ripe and plentiful. Ajax is hungry and eats some of the cherries while he ponders which direction to turn, right or left. Ajax, being brought up well by his family, calls upon the blessings of TyLin for wisdom in this choice before him.
With no insights, and not having a single coin to flip, he spins a cherry in the air, intent to follow the direction the stem points.
When it lands at his feet, the cherry stem points straight ahead, neither right or left, not even in the slightest, but forward into the bushes.
Ajax steps forward, to the end of the road, and as he looks he spots a small white and grey rabbit hopping away, and realizes there is a faint game trail through the bushes. Still hungry, he follows the trail for a bit and begins to realize that it is, in fact, following an old road.
Early afternoon is about to slip into early evening, and the shadows have grown long, Ajax spots an old, once grand house and farmstead, and the rabbit disappearing inside.
The grounds and house are old and nearly in ruins – not as bad or as big as Greyfax though…
Trusting in TyLin, Ajax approaches the house, calling out a greeting. There is no answer, but at the slightest hint of a knock, nearly only as he reaches for it, the door opens and inside is a large white lynx and next to it the small white-grey rabbit! The two are sitting next to each other, as if waiting for him.
Incredibly, the cat begins to speak!
“My sister and I have been transformed by a witch, TyLin protected me, but our magics were severely weakened and my sister cannot be transformed back. The witch is sending creatures to weaken our defenses, turn me into a rabbit as well and sacrifice us to increase her own power… I fear we will not survive this night without your help.
“Ajax, in the name of TyLin, will you protect us?”
Hearing this lovely voice, seeing the helpless rabbit, and thinking of his prayers to TyLin for guidance at the crossroads, Ajax doesn’t hesitate:
“Yes! Of course my lady,” he replies in his best words, and thinking of the cherry tree at the crossroads and what looked like old fruit trees, he asks, “Do you have any cherry wood? I am without a cudgel or staff.”
“Indeed we do, our farmstead includes many fruit trees, and the cherries have survived the curse better than most.”
The lynx, the rabbit, and the young man go out into the orchard where Ajax is thankful to find a stout cherry limb ready to be harvested and to make a fine stave. After a bit of whittling and a little oiling, Ajax is ready to fight off the witch’s evil minions with his cherry-wood staff, and just in time!
For as the sun begins to set, a hawk calls out a warning from above, looking up, Ajax sees a white hawk circling in the air above the farm.
As soon as the darkness settles, wolves begin to howl all around the farmstead.
“Go in the house,” Ajax tells the lynx and rabbit, as he assumes a defensive position at the bottom of the porch stairs.
No sooner are the words said than the first wave of wolves and wargs charges the house!
Ajax is able to fend them off with his stout cherry staff!
Wave after wave comes all through the night, and late in the night, the remaining wargs and wolves are joined by other fearsome creatures. Ajax manages to keep them out of the house, but it is hard work, and some of the creatures do manage to bite and scratch our hero.
The sun rises and Ajax is exhausted, his staff is worn and cracked at one end, but not broken.
The Lynx-lady offers him a bowl of cherries and sweet cream to sup upon, and bids Ajax to rest.
In the afternoon Ajax wakes refreshed, his wounds healed, and the staff reduced to a stout cudgel. The Lynx speaks again, the white rabbit at her side.
“My sister has chewed the cracked part of your staff away so that it will serve you tonight. You have defeated the witch’s larger minions. Thank you for your valiant defense last night, we surely would not have prevailed without you. I know she is not finished, and tonight she will send others. Eat and be refreshed, for night will come soon.”
Ajax eats more cherries and cream and tests out his cudgel, it is well balanced and the grain gleams as if it had been well oiled.
Again, as night falls, a white hawk circles above and calls out a warning. No howls are heard as the darkness gathers.
Once again Ajax admonishes the two sisters to go in the house, no sooner are the words out of his mouth than across the ground and through the trees come hoards of wood-rats, weasels, stoats, and polecats!
Ajax’s cudgel is stout and made of cherry, and with it once again he keeps the witch’s servants out of the house. In the wee hours of the morning on what must be their seventh sortie, the rats and weasels nearly overcame Ajax and the white Lynx leapt to his aid, clawing and biting the nasty creatures.
By the time the morning comes, Ajax is covered in bites and scratches, smaller but more numerous than the night before. His cudgel is a bit worn, but remains stout and strong.
Once again, the Lynx-lady bids Ajax to eat and rest. She is certain the witch will try a third time.
Ajax eats more cherries and cream, and rests. When he wakes in the afternoon, his wounds are all healed, and his cudgel is clean and gleaming once again. A few barely noticeable nicks in the cherry wood are all the evidence that remains of the previous night’s battle.
A third time, as night falls, a white hawk circles above and calls out a warning.
An eerie silence comes with the darkness this time, and Ajax, for the third time, calls up the sisters to take refuge in the house as the floor of the forest comes alive in the darkness!
A crawling carpet of scorpions, spiders, and snakes moves out of the woods and towards Ajax.
For the third time, he offers a prayer to TyLin to protect the sisters and himself, and sets to his task of defending the farmstead from evil.
Despite their small size, or perhaps because of it, this third night is more challenging than the two that came before. Worse yet, the night’s vermin are venomous and when their bites land, Ajax is weakened.
Again, on what must be the seventh wave, in the deep dark before the dawn, Ajax is nearly laid low, weakened by poison, and his club is cracked from striking the ground to smash his creeping, crawling enemies.
Again, the Lynx comes to his aid, with claw and tooth, she fights off several snakes and even a scorpion and spider or two!
As the dawn breaks the two weary warriors stand triumphant at the front of the house, no vermin have been able to enter!
The Lynx and Ajax both collapse on the porch, exhausted and poisoned by their enemies.
Ajax wakes late, the sun is low, and the Lynx is weak. The rabbit has brought them some cherries and a bit of sweet cream, and Ajax’s cudgel is still cracked and weakened.
As dusk begins, clouds begin to obscure the sky, and the white hawk cries a warning above, even louder than the previous three. As darkness descends, the Lynx-lady moans:
“She is coming…”
Ajax carries the Lynx into the house, and before he can close the door behind him, an evil cackle comes from the woods.
Ajax turns and sees an evil crone approaching, he steps forward to face the witch, weak from the poison still, his cudgel nearly splintered. He prays to TyLin for protection and solace, and assumes a defensive stance.
“You are weak, boy! Your stick is broken, and even if it is made of cherry, it will not keep me at bay! I have come for my due, and your death will only give me more power! Run while you can!”
Ajax feels a wave of fear wash over him, but he manages to shake off the witch’s curse. He brandishes his cudgel and shouts back at the witch:
“Hie ye hence from here Witch! TyLin protects this place and its inhabitants from your evils!”
The crone cackles in amusement, and a red glow coalesces around her hands,
“Your sleeping Goddess will not protect you from me boy!” Screams the witch before uttering her curse.
A wave of heat and fire washes over Ajax, but he does not cower, instead he charges the witch!
The fire burns away the cherry wood and to his surprise and the witch’s, a fine silver sword is revealed! The cherry handle unburnt in his hand, Ajax strikes the witch down and she herself burns out like coal turned to ash.
A light breeze blows the ash away, and the clouds fade from the sky, revealing bright stars and shining moon.
In the moonlight, Ajax’s clothes appear to be bleached white by the witch’s blast, but not burned away.
He returns to the house, where a beautiful woman lays resting, a white-grey rabbit at her side.
In the late morning, the three awake, and together they gather cherries and sweet cream to break their fast. The farmstead could still use some work, and by the evening Ajax and the Lynx-lady are smiling at each other and she asks if he will stay and help rebuild the farm.
—
Telosh concludes his tale with a gentle smile, “I think I remembered it right, when Gran told it to the smaller children, some times the witch would “turn into a bat and fly away never to be seen again” or some such kid stuff, but the rest is right, I remember the threes and the sevens, the importance of cherry wood in fending off evil, and all that.”
Early in the telling, Alexis clearly works on keeping his face blank.
“It’s hard to imagine that you ever gave praise to any other gods with a telling of that story in that fashion. So much Ty-Lin imagery.”
“Every so faintly, it reminds me of a very different story. From a different age.”
“This sort of thing makes me wish I had a pipe. The occasion just seems to long for it. Perhaps the influence of Anashar, or one of the winds?”
Telosh looks a little confused at first, and then shrugs,
“My Gran did always say the old ways were the right ways and that her stories were as old as the hills.”
With a wry smile he adds, “Pipeweed and and old tales do go together, no doubt about that. You would know better than me what god’s influence that might be though.”
