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Avon Arthur, Avalon Archer
This good-looking young man joined us recently. Seems a bit lost, and rarely speaks of his past - almost as if he had none. However, he is a member of the Rose and Cross, and seems a thoroughly decent young fellow - far too nice to be hanging around with the likes of us! B.
A moment of reflection
"Pay attention!" drew me back to the moment just in time to see the training sword catch my side and send me sprawling once more to the floor. The Sergeant glared at me as I drew myself to a sitting position, content to stay off my feet—it was less distance to fall.
"Well?" he screamed.
"I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you expect. What lesson is pain supposed to teach?"
"You must be alert at all times, or you will die!"
I thought it would make more sense to stay away from swords, but it did not seem the moment to say so. Having arrived in Freiburg with no life, that I had been accepted so readily by the Rose & Cross had surprised, but perhaps it was precisely because I was a blank slate that they had been so eager.
It was exactly that which had been occupying my thoughts when Sergeant Fleischer had caught me out. When one has lost one’s entire life it is hard not to wonder what once was there.
...
It had been late evening when my clouded senses first registered something. As I opened my eyes I could not make out the features of the cloaked man kneeling over me.
"Finally!" he had exclaimed. "I had started to wonder if ever you would awake again."
The questions came all at once and all I could manage was a babble "Wha-who-whe..."
The figure chuckled "You are safe for now, and I must once again leave you. But you know I am always nearby; always watching." and he was gone.
As I struggled to rise to my feet to follow him a thousand pains shot through my head. A great giddiness overtook me and I fell to my knees, my head spinning for what seemed an eternity. When it had settled it was full dark and I knew the mysterious stranger would be long gone.
The next morning I gathered the few items left neatly nearby—some food, a longbow, a travelling cloak—and chose a direction to follow the road. I wandered most of the day without seeing anyone else. Late in the afternoon I came across an old man attempting to drive a group of thugs from a stone circle. I drew my bow and fired a couple of arrows. It was a small gesture but enough to give the thugs doubts, and they turned and ran. The old man treated the wound on my head, a nasty bump by his account. When he found I had nowhere to go and nothing to do, he bade me travel with him awhile, and he taught me many stories and songs. Some had a familiar ring, but I could not place where I had heard them before. In all the time we travelled together I had no name—he called me "boy" and I called him "sir".
From time to time we entered large towns. While I could not recall having been to them before, I seemed to know my way around and easily found us places to stay. The old man was welcomed everywhere, and we seldom had to pay for food or lodgings.
As we travelled he often asked me questions. Not such mundane questions as my name, or where I was from. In fact it was often hard to hear the question in what he said, but after all the time we travelled together I started to understand his way and knew I had been questioned. Sometimes I answered, sometimes not. The old man showed no sign of caring either way.
Often times as I slept strange dreams took me. Frequently the cloaked stranger featured in my dreams, and they usually ended with riding through a countryside of indescribable beauty and drinking from a river. Sometimes when I woke after such dreams I could not remember where we were, and the old man would examine my head while he told me the story of that part of our journey that I had forgotten.
Eventually I took my leave of him. I had heard talk of a grand city, the largest in Théah, and it took my fancy to see it. As I left he gave me these kind words "You have been my guide and companion this last little while. Take these herbs, and when you have chosen a path burn them in a fire that I may send you a gift."
I made my way to a port and arranged to work my passage to Freiburg. When I boarded the ship the mate asked my name for the ship’s roster. I shrugged, and he called "Avalon archer" to the man writing in the roster who apparently misheard and wrote it as "Avon Arthur". It is as good a name as any and I still use it.
...
I reached once more for my sword and wearily stood to face the Sergeant. As I prepared for another beating a young Knight burst through the door "My apologies Sergeant, but Avon is being called." The Sergeant stood down, and while I was pleased to be away, I saluted him as was his due. If nothing else I had to admire his patience and persistence. I followed the young Knight.
Before me stood a woman in her mid-twenties, pretty but not beautiful. As she started speaking I could feel myself once more fighting to hear the words. There was something strangely captivating about her voice.
"Tyro.
"I must go to Charouse. Normally I would take you with me, but things there are somewhat uncertain and I do not wish to put you in danger unnecessarily.
"Go to this address and join their group. I have a feeling they will be coming to Charouse before too long and by the time they get there I will have a better understanding of how things are there.
"I sense great things in you, but you must work on your skills. You know what we value, and you have taken our Oath.
"There is one more thing... A gift if you will, or perhaps a tool to help you in your work. Whatever you call it, I trust you will care for it and use it well."
She passed me a long wooden box, not attractive, but sturdy and functional. I released the catch and within was the most beautiful blue velvet lining; in marked contrast to the austere exterior.
But it was what the box held that truly made me marvel. I had heard stories of them. I had seen drawings of them and read descriptions of them. Nothing could do justice to the magnificent craftsmanship contained therein. I placed the box back on the desk and with trembling hands lifted it out, convinced that I was the subject of some Glamour. But it was solid to my touch, and as I lifted it forth the gleaming metal reflected the light from its perfect surfaces while it seemed a star danced along the keen edge.
"It’s a Dietrich Sword" I muttered in awe.
"I know."
I put the blade back in the box, closed it carefully, and took it to my room. On my bed lay a red tabard with the symbol of our order, and a long slender waterproof sling bag in which my few other belongings had already been packed. The sling bag was long enough to hold the box, so I put it in and sealed the flap.
I took a pouch from about my neck—the one the druid had given me, and emptied its contents onto the fire. Great clouds spewed forth but they were not foul smelling, and I fell into a deep sleep. While I slept I dreamed I was with the old man once more, and he was looking through me as he had done so often. "So, the Rose & Cross is it? Well you will need great strength and commitment, as well as a goodly sense of honour. Heed my words well for I place upon you a Gesa, and it will aid you as long as you follow its strictures!
"Never disobey a Lady."
I awoke strangely refreshed, the druid’s words still ringing in my ears. I smiled at the irony of his Gesa as I thought of my Domini, Wandering Antoinette. I donned the tabard, placing the sling bag, my longbow, and my quiver over my shoulder and made my way to the new Drachenheim Manor.
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How Avon came to be in his current situation is a twisted tale...
Avon’s father is a Highlander named Robert Hame, a performer who fell in love with a bewitchingly beautiful woman he saw in the woods. The woman, Aldrya, was a Sidhe tree spirit and she also fell in love with the rugged mortal.
Of course, the mixing of the two folk is always frowned upon by the Queen of the Sidhe, but what made this secret more dire was that Robert Hame was a MacEachern—not only did they need to hide their love from the Sidhe, but they couldn’t let his kin find out either.
Eventually Aldrya fell pregnant and they knew that their time was running out, so they fled to a remote part of Avalon and set up a new home where nobody knew them. They took the names of Robert and Diana Home. When their son was born they named him Angus Hame, but to the world (and him) he was Richard Home. Robert spent almost every waking moment being an Avalon—foregoing his kilt in favour of trousers, using the accent he had practised as an actor. Diana tried to do the same, but there is only so much you can do for a Sidhe with green-tinged skin and they generally kept her apart from the locals.
They were going to tell Angus the truth when he was old enough to keep his own secret, but they never got the chance.
Angus was a much-loved child. His parents both taught him many stories and songs of the legends of the Triple Kingdom. His mother taught him the ways of the forest, while his father taught him the basics of bow and sword. They paid the local priest to take him one day a week for some "book learning".
Unfortunately such paradise rarely lasts. Avon had always been a beautiful child, but as he entered adolescence signs of his Sidhe blood became more apparent. He was helping his father in the small smithy he kept when a flake of burning iron flew from a piece his father was working on and struck Angus in the leg. Angus went into convulsions of pain that only subsided when they’d managed to sedate him. They removed the iron from his leg but the wound took a long time to heal. It was then that his parents exchanged that meaningful look for the first time.
It was not long after that that stories began spreading in the village about how slowly Angus seemed to be maturing—due to his mother’s tree-like nature, Angus system was following the natural growth cycle of such things; growing in Spring and Summer, but slowing to nothing in Autumn and Winter. This tree aspect of his being had another effect, in that he seemed less bothered by normal injuries.
And stories of such things catch the ear of the Sidhe.
The Queen had been looking for her errant "daughter" since she had disappeared and she sent one of her more cunning agents to investigate. When he reported back on what he had found the Queen decided on her punishment. Robert would have to die, eventually, there was no question, and Aldrya would need to be brought home for some suitable punishment, but before that she would steal their child away completely. Not kill him, of course, that would be too simple, but he would be lost to them none the less. And if she could someday wrest from him the secret of MacEachern forging techniques so her people could create a defence so much the better.
So she sent her agent, who in the mortal world called himself Brenn, to befriend the boy. At first Brenn showed Angus (or Gareth as he knew him, for that was the name that was always used) things close to home so that his parents would not miss him. After he had earned Gareth’s trust he offered to show him some of the great cities of Avalon. At first Gareth was reluctant because he knew his parents would miss him and Brenn insisted that his parents not be told, but eventually Brenn persuaded Gareth that he had ways of making the trip very short so that his parents would not know he was gone.
As the trip wore on into days, Gareth’s fascination with his new experiences began to be overwhelmed by concern for his parents, who would surely have noticed his absence by now. Every time he asked Brenn how it was that his parents would not notice him gone, Brenn would just enigmatically answer that it would all become clear in good time.
Finally Gareth insisted that they turn around, or he would return by himself. Brenn said he had a secret way that would get them back in the flash of an eye, and led Gareth to a portal to Bryn Bresail. The rode for some time through the breathtaking countryside before they came to a river. At this point Brenn bade Gareth drink for they would soon be home, but there was still a ride ahead of them. As Gareth filled his belly so too did he empty his mind, for Brenn had led him to the River of Forgetfulness.
Brenn took Gareth back to a road in Avalon far from his parent’s house, giving him a nasty thump on the head to explain the amnesia, and stayed until Gareth awoke, at which point the story of Avon begins.
The story of Brenn does not end there. He returns from time to time to look in on Avon, and to protect him (for the Queen still hopes to get the MacEachern secret from him). While Avon travelled with the druid Brenn returned several times and would take Avon away for weeks or months at a time. Each time the druid would see the blank look in Avon’s eyes after such a trip he would sigh and make a story to fill the blank in Avon’s memory. Avon thinks he travelled with the druid for a few years, but in fact it was closer to 10. The "dreams" that Avon suffers are generally the fading memories of his travels with Brenn.
But Brenn’s power is much more limited outside the Glamour Isles. While Avon is on the mainland he will be less exposed to Brenn’s influence, and snippets of his past may begin to emerge.
Avon does have some half-forgotten memories of his youth. Not surprisingly, given the Sidhe lack human emotion, the memories that have survived the River of Forgetfulness are those that are strongly emotional.
He remembers the way his parents held him after he had wounded himself with the iron.
He remembers his father’s laughter when he had finally mastered a tricky move with the sword.
And there is a particularly painful memory of his mother crying as she tried to lift a sword that was obviously too heavy for her to defend herself against a Highlander. (This last is a misinterpreted memory: her father had forged a MacEachern sword and insisted his mother learn to use it in case they were ever found and attacked by the Sidhe. The lessons occurred on the day that Angus went to the priest for teaching, but his mother frequently broke down in tears at the thought of what the sword would do to her people. It was the only time that his father wore his kilt, because it was more comfortable to him and he knew Angus was safely away in the village. On this one occasion Angus had been brought home early because the priest was ill and had run ahead of the wagon only to see what he thought was his mother defending herself. When he screamed and ran back for help his father changed clothes and said that he had chased the intruder away.)
There are elements within the Seelie Court that do not agree with the Queen’s handling of Avon. While they are not foolish enough to openly contradict the Queen, they employ human agents to arrange "accidents" for Gareth Home.
It is not just the Sidhe that Avon must beware. Any MacEacherns who see someone of mixed MacEachern and Sidhe blood are likely to want to do away with the bastard offspring.
And somewhere, possibly, the parents of Angus Hame still wonder what happened to their son so many years ago and still hope he’ll return to them one day.
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