[Continued from here]
"Goodness."
Beranwen breathed. "Do you need any help? How did you get out here?"
"I
walked, of course. At least," The man frowned suddenly. "I probably
walked. I'm sure I remember walking."
"You
can't have walked. You have no legs." Quinton pointed, as though the man's
lack of legs was somehow hidden from normal sight.
"Lord
Quinton, please." Beranwen silenced him. "Sir, please forgive us for
disturbing you. But we'd be more than happy to help you on your way, if you had
a destination in mind. And... if you need a doctor...?" She left the
question hanging. There didn't seem to be any sign of blood.
"A
doctor? More likely a tinkerer. But I'd be much happier if I could just find my
legs. They can't be far. Can't understand how they came off in the first
place."
"Your...
your legs just came off?"
"I
must have been tired. That feeling when your eyes feel heavy and you want to
lie down, that's being tired, right?"
"It
normally happens in the evening." Quinton contributed.
"It
was the evening. So I must have been tired. I lay down and closed my eyes, and
when I opened them again, my legs were gone. Looks like something dragged them
away - look, there."
Beranwen
followed the man's finger as he pointed, and saw tracks in the mulch of the
forest floor, as though something large had been dragged further into the
trees. Quinton leapt over to examine them.
"So
you had your legs last night?" Beranwen asked, feeling sure she wasn't
following the conversation very well.
"It
might have been last night. Is it normal to close your eyes for longer than one
night?"
"Not
unless you're sick. But there should be..."
"Should
be what?"
Beranwen
glanced furtively at Quinton, but he was absorbed in the tracks, so she muttered,
"Blood."
"Is
that was usually happens when you lose your legs? Blood?"
"Yes."
"Ah.
Well, this is my first time. Maybe I'm doing it wrong." The man pulled
himself a bit further upright. "Although, there was this black stuff. Is
this blood?" He picked up a leaf from the ground beside the stump of his
body. Beranwen took it.
"This
is oil."
"Oil.
Is it like blood?"
"This
came out of you?"
"Just
a little bit. I don't think it should have done, but maybe a tube got broken
when my legs were taken."
Quinton,
who had been occupying himself up until then, looked up and gave an excited
yelp.
"You
have a belt made of cogs. That's pretty. That can be my trophy!"
The
man with no legs frowned at Quinton.
"I
don't have a belt at all. My trousers went with my legs. Or, I assume they did.
Fat lot of use it'd be having a belt with no trousers."
"No,
look, it's right here." Quinton reached out. Beranwen only just reacted in
time.
"Quinton,
no. Don't touch the gentleman. That's not polite." She grabbed at his hand
as it reached out for the bottom of the man's shirt.
"Oh.
Sorry."
"Your
friend seems excitable." The man with no legs commented to Beranwen.
"I'm
on a quest." Quinton replied quickly. "It's my first quest. It's very
exciting."
"Actually,"
Beranwen muttered, not paying either of them any attention, "You do have
cogs down there. Why do you have cogs?"
"Doesn't
everybody?"
"No.
I'm... I'm sorry to keep staring, but I've never known anyone to have
cogs."
"Really?"
The man lifted his short slightly and gazed down. "They do look funny,
don't they? But I don't remember not having them." He frowned then, and
stared off into the middle distance. "Or maybe I do. There was
something... Damn and blast. Why can't I remember anything?"
Beranwen,
able to see the stump of the man's torso properly for the first time, barely
heard him. Where she had expected bone and muscle, there was just a network of
fine cogs, metal plates, and a small rubber tube that slowly dripped oil onto
the forest floor.
[Part 11]
[Part 11]
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