Page 6 of The Knucker King

“And, as always, Lord. I still require permission to look on you,” Avice replied, eyes trained to the top of Bramble’s head, who’s snout pointed directly to his paws.

The ground beneath her feet rumbled, a pebble bounced across the flagstone from the deep resonance. Avice stifled a grin; the King was laughing.

“Well then, little witch and her familiar, you have permission to look.”

She tilted her chin upwards. As always, when she saw him, her breath was taken from her body. She was met with his startling red gaze. Each eye was intersected by a long, black scratch of a pupil. His snout was long, and a crown of bone-white horns swept from the back and top of his head. His body was long and winding, like that of the adders she sometimes found in her herb garden. Like the serpents, his scales were smooth and lustrous. Unlike them, he was coloured like the inside of a clam shell. White and polished, he shone with an iridescent sheen as he shifted his coils in the gentle light.

He lowered his mighty head, the size of it matched the length of Avice’s body, making Bramble yelp and scramble behind her legs. Trewoofe blinked. His pupils stretched and shrunk as his eyelids closed and opened. His large nostrils scented the air. Avice closed her eyes against the heat of his sweet breath. When she looked again, she nearly fell backward in surprise with the King’s proximity.

He pressed the very tip of his nose to the baby in her arm, soft as a snowflake falling on skin. “Is this your offspring?”

Avice’s jaw dropped at the question; her cheeks flushed with indignation. Quickly followed by the dull ache of want.

I would look after her if I could.

Children were a painful subject for her, and she quickly stepped around the bubbling feelings his query brought up.

“No, King,” she replied carefully. “This child was born to a shepherd’s wife on the outskirts of your village.”

“We both know it has not been my village for a long time, but please continue.”

“She was… born with something that means she cannot live in the land above. Not for long anyway,” Avice explained.

She let out a breath as the King’s powerful stare dropped from her face to the baby cradled in her arm. “Show me what is wrong.”

The midwife dipped her head in agreement, and peeled the stained, bloody blanket back from the baby. The exposed intestines on her belly were still vital and red, her chest still rose and fell, her open eyes were bright and blue.

Elation bubbled in Avice’s chest. She looks better! I knew bringing her to the well was the right thing to do.

She felt Bramble lean into the back of her knees, seeking comfort from her at the presence of the King. Avice curled her sore arm behind her, gritting her teeth as pain radiated from her wrist, and brushed the edge of the Grim’s floppy ear.

Trewoofe narrowed his eyes at the baby. Time crawled as Avice waited with bated breath. Then, to her horror, a long, forked tongue flicked from his mouth. The King ran it over the baby’s face.

“Lord! What are you—”

A squeak.

A squeal.

Avice’s mouth fell open as the baby cried.

Tears of joy gathered in the corners of her eyes and travelled down her cheeks. She jiggled and cooed the baby until she settled into a quiet grizzling.

“That will help her for now,” Trewoofe reassured. “Now, tell me, why have you brought the shepherd’s daughter to my well?”

Avice swallowed, nerves chasing the words she had been preparing in her head. Bramble clumsily bumped his nose to her sore wrist, seeking more comfort, making her hiss through her teeth.

Concern etched into Trewoofe’s deep voice as he lowered his head further, curling around the back of Avice’s legs, making Bramble yelp and step back. “What is wrong, Avice?”

She smiled at the use of her name; to her, far more intimate than his usual nickname for her. “Nothing, Lord.” She steered the conversation back to her mission to the well. “I have come to ask you for a favour.”

“A favour?”

“I wanted to see if you would take the child,” she forged onwards, ignoring the painful heat of his breath on her dangling arm.

Trewoofe hummed, and she tilted her gaze down to where his mouth lingered, their eyes meeting. “And what would you have me do with this child? I am far too large of a Knucker to look after such a tiny thing.”

Avice was touched at the thought of the King cradling the tiny baby on the tip of nose. She shook her head slightly, trying not to let her imagination run too wild.