Pride and Fall

Pride and Fall

  Kevin L. O'Brien

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  Text Copyright 2013 by Kevin L. O'Brien

  Cover design and typography copyright 2013 by Kevin L. O'Brien

  Gaelic Regular font distributed under a free use license by Weatherly Systems, Inc.

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  License Notes

  Please consider writing a review for this book on the retailer's website.

  If you see any misspellings or typographical errors, please notify Kevin L. O'Brien using one of his online social networks. Thank you.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, including those based on the real world, are either products of the imagination of Kevin L. O'Brien or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Because some ebook platforms do not support special characters, certain words may appear misspelled, but this was done deliberately to avoid the problem of the platforms deleting the characters. Also, the LRF platform used by older models of the Sony Reader does not permit the use of links to external URLs, whereas the PDB platform used by Palm reading devices does not support any form of linking whatsoever. Finally, certain words use British instead of American spelling, to simulate the characters' English accents.

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  Table of Contents

  Preface

  Pride and Fall

  About the Author

  Other Books by Kevin L. O'Brien

  Connect with Kevin L. O'Brien

  Sample Excerpts

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  Preface

  Medb hErenn's confidence in her skills, experience, and magical invulnerabilities goes beyond mere arrogance to border on hubris. Subconsciously she really believes herself to be invincible. While many times she is thrust into dangerous situations against her will, there are also just as many times when she charges in without first considering the consequences. And even if she consciously curses her shortsightedness, each time she successfully saves herself from destruction her subconscious certainty is reinforced all the more. At best she gains some small experience that might aid her in the future, but she never seems to learn the most important lesson.

  That doesn't just make her foolish, but vulnerable as well. Enemies can lure her into traps with stories that pique her curiosity (cliched as it might sound, she is after all a woman), prick her vanity, or challenge her conceit. It doesn't matter that any normal person might be suspicious; she is not normal, and she takes pride in that assessment.

  Back to TOC

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  Of all the bathhouses in the city of Ulthar, the most popular was the Roman balnea of Gnaeus Quinctilius Commidius. Like most of the other establishments, it catered to both sexes; unlike all but one, it did not segregate on the basis of gender but allowed men and women to mingle. Yet it was no pleasure house, where couples openly fraternized. Instead, the old patrician meant it to be a serious establishment, devoted to promoting good health.

  Patrons tended to follow the same routine. They would undress in a changing room, and proceed out into a large, central courtyard to exercise and play sports. From there they would enter the hot room, to purge their bodies through sweat, cleanse their skins with oil and abrasive scrubbing, and wash off in the heated pool, before taking a dip in the adjacent cold bath. They then spent most of their time in the large tepid pool. Most patrons ended their visit in the commissary, replenishing themselves with food and drink, before returning to the changing room to dress.

  People came to the bath as much to socialize as to get fit. Some visitors transacted business there, but mostly the patrons gossiped and debated while playing chess, dominoes, and dice, or swam leisurely around the pool, or just lounged beside it. Swapping stories was a favorite pastime, the more outlandish the better, and adventurers who had returned from their latest quest were welcomed with great anticipation. Medb hErenn came three times a week whenever she happened to be in Ulthar, to keep in shape, to catch up on the latest news, and to flirt, but also to hear any new stories. She preferred not to tell any of her own, but on rare occasions she made an exception.

  One day during her second year in the Dreamworld, she met a trio of adventurers in the exercise yard. She accompanied them to each of the three baths, where they regaled her with accounts of their exploits. She knew they expected her to reciprocate, but she waited until they went to the commissary. Even then, she began only after they had laid themselves on couches around a table, an attendant had brought them their bread, cheese, fruit and wine, and they had toasted their mutual good fortune and continued success.

  I have traveled the length and breadth of the Six Kingdoms on business for Seidhloch the Moneylender, even to the Desert of Cuppar-Numbo and the gates of the city of Ogrothan on the shore of the Cerenarian Sea. I have faced many dangers, but none that were a serious threat until the day I encountered of the Upas Tree.

  I was resting in marbled Oonai of the gilded domes, partaking of its pleasures and entertainments, when I heard tell of a valley deep in the Karthian Hills, a poisoned hollow devoid of all growth and life, save for the Upas. My informant, a handsome young dancer with whom I had spent the night, told me of it as we breakfasted in a tavern.

  "I have heard tell of the Upas Tree all my life. I once asked my mother..." He paused as a strange look flickered across his face, as if hate, sorrow, and longing warred for dominance. I noted it, but thought little of it. Then his expression returned to normal as he smiled and continued.

  "I asked my mother one time how deadly it really was, and what I should do if I ever saw it. She replied that it was so deadly, a bird would fall from the sky if just its shadow touched the bark as it flew overhead. And if I did happen to see it, that I could be afraid but should not show it, for I would already be dead, even though I might not know it."

  I scoffed at such a notion, but my companion insisted it was true. "Only just a year ago, an adventurer questioned the truth of these stories and went to see for himself. When he did not return after three days, a party went in search of him. They found him at the crest of the ridge within sight of the valley, dead, his face distorted into a hideous mask of agony."

  I asked him why the party had not been killed.

  "Because they did not approach the ridge until after nightfall, when the tree could not be seen. Even then, one member, who thought he saw a vague outline, took to his bed upon his return and lay stricken for a fortnight before he recovered."

  I have faced down basilisks unharmed, so I felt such could never be my fate, and I told him so. He gave me a calculating look and replied in a crafty manner. "Would you care to place a wager on your boast?"

  That intrigued me, so we agreed as to terms and set off later that day. We arrived at the easternmost ridge of the bowl-shaped valley an hour before sundown, while there still remained light enough for me to see the Upas clearly, but not for long enough to threaten my guide. We made camp and had a bite to eat as my companion told me more stories. The tale of its origin interested me especially, in that it had appeared after a night when many shooting stars flung themselves across the heavens, and more than a few struck the earth. The valley beside which we encamped was supposed to have been excavated by one such star. Such were not unheard of in my land of Erin, and I knew, as few did, that such 'stars' were actually pieces of stone or metallic rocks that fell from the sky. I told my lover of this, but he derided such a notion.

  We started up the slope of the ridge just as the sun began to touch the horizon. My companion stopped short of where he would be able to see over the crest into the hollow while I continued on. The sun momentarily blinded me as my head rose above the crest, but once I had topped it and shielded my eye
s from the glare, I could see into the hollow quite clearly.

  The valley was indeed a bowl-shaped crater, and almost totally devoid of life. The grass, herbs, and small field plants of the land that surrounded it ended in an abrupt line right at the edge of the crest; from there the ground that proceeded down into the hollow as an unbroken expanse of shattered rock and barren earth. The only living inhabitant sat at the exact center. In form it resembled an ancient willow, with thick, gnarled limbs and roots, its armor-like bark wrinkled and scarred, and a crown of delicate, slender branches that arced high over its top, then fell like a curtain to the ground. The only noticeable difference was that the bark was a dark