The Legend of the Black Fox

By Robert Collins

Tulla breaks the rule his town leader set down, and visits the men in strange boats from the east. They come with a message: magic has returned to the world.

Tulla learns magic from the strangers, Allan and Prince George. He also learns that Allan has used magic, as “The Defender” to fight for justice. Tulla decides to do the same, starting with the arrogant and corrupt leader of his town. From then on, Tulla will travel the Mountain Kingdom as “The Black Fox,” trying to better his homeland.

This collection contains five novellas, telling the tales of “The Black Fox.” If you’re already a fan of “The Defender” series, you shouldn’t miss this collection of related tales!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Collins
• Release date: Sep 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370683550

Robert Collins

Two people with different cultural backgrounds and ethnicities met at a European and Balkan music and dance ensemble named Koroyar and their lives became intertwined, combining their gifts to continue exploring life as an avenue of creative expression. Robert Collins has a Bachelor of Arts in Anthropology, and has been an educator in the Los Angeles area for thirty years. He studied writing with Joan Oppenheimer in San Diego, with Cork Millner privately, and also in the Santa Barbara Writer's Conferences. Elizabeth Herrera Sabido, at the age of sixteen years, began working as a secretary at the Secretaria de Industria y Comercio in Mexico City where she was born, then she was an educator for twenty-six years, and a teacher of international dance for The Los Angeles Unified School District. She has also studied Traditional Chinese Medicine, and is a Reiki Master Teacher. Attracted by the Unknown, the Forces of the Universe, and the human psyche, during their lives they have studied several different philosophies. Elizabeth has been involved with various religions, Asian studies, and Gnosticism with SamaelAun Weor, and Robert has explored spiritual healing practices in Mexico, and studied with Carlos Castaneda's Cleargreen and Tensegrity. Elizabeth and Robert start their day at four-thirty in the morning. They enjoy playing volleyball and tennis, and in the afternoons play music, alternating between seven different instruments each. Their philosophy of Personal Evolution has led them to explore over 110 countries between the two of them such as Japan, Nepal, Egypt, Bosnia- Herzegovina, the Philippines, Turkey,Russia, etc.

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THE LEGEND OF THE BLACK FOX

by

Robert Collins

Ebook Edition

Copyright © 2016 by Robert Collins

License Notes, eBook edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

The Black Fox

The Black Fox and the Brewer

The Black Fox and the Selfish Men

The Black Fox and the Demon

The Black Fox and the Dragon

About the Defender Series

INTRODUCTION

This collection of novellas came about because of two notions I had. The first was planted in my mind after I wrote the ninth Defender story, The Witch Lands. I mentioned to lands across the sea from the Kingdom. One was the Witch Lands, which was visited in that story and in others afterward. The other was the Mountain Kingdom. Eventually I decided that I needed to write some stories there as well.

The other notion was about the Defenders themselves. They use magic to fight for justice, and they disguise themselves for protection. That got me thinking about similar heroes in literature, which led me to the early Robin Hood tales. It seemed a perfect fit. The stories that take place in the Mountain Kingdom would be inspired by Robin Hood.

If you’re coming to these stories without having read the other Defender stories, you shouldn’t have much trouble following along. If you are a fan of the Defender, I hope you’ll enjoy this expansion of the world.

Thanks for your support!

Robert Collins

Autumn 2016

THE BLACK FOX

Tulla looked again at the two strange ships floating in the harbor. They seemed so forlorn, having come from so far away, and appearing to have no company.

It still makes no sense to me, Father, he said.

His father Torta shrugged between the falls of his hammer on his anvil. Vitta has spoken, my son. The strangers are not welcome here.

Tulla was no boy. He was old enough to understand that adults sometimes did or said things that were unwise. Age could make a man unwise, as could fear, or simple foolishness. He wanted to know which of those was the master of the mind of the town’s headman.

Why would Vitta decide that? he asked.

You heard the Ildyn. The strangers come from the land to the west. The last time folk came from the west, they were casters of spells. They fought the folk of the Mountain Kingdom. It took the lifetimes of two Ulfdyn, and many lives of the folk they ruled, to turn back the attempt to conquer our land.

That is what Vitta said, Father. What I mean was, what’s really behind his decision?

You’d best not ask such a question outside of the shop, my son.

Others are asking the same question.

Then let one of them be the first to ask such a question out loud.

Tulla frowned. Is Vitta so frightening, Father?

He was appointed by Borga, who by right of birth wears the Golden Crown and holds the title of Ulfdyn.

That does not make him a good man, Father.

His father said nothing in response. Tulla was not surprised that his father couldn’t defend the town’s Ildyn. No one wished to defend Vitta for any reason. Though he was only an Ildyn, and of a modest port town, he acted as though he was Ulfdyn of the whole Mountain Kingdom.

Nothing made that more clear that the boots nailed to a pole not far from his father’s blacksmith shop. The boots had been new when Vitta had arrived to assume his duties as Ildyn. After being in Varkon for only a handful of days, one of the women in town spilled urine on the Ildyn’s new boots.

It was an accident. She was carrying a bucket of urine to the dyer, as the waste was an important ingredient in the dyes used to color folks’ clothes. Vitta chose to interpret the accident as an insult to his new post. He had the smelly boots nailed to the pole, and the pole raised in the center of Varkon. Everyone who passed by the pole, Vitta proclaimed, for whatever reason, had to look to the boots and nod their head.

At first few took the proclamation seriously. What sane man would demand respect be given to a pair of smelly boots? The first few lashings of men who ignored the order, and the brief increase in the seasonal tax, convinced the folk of Varkon to obey the order. It was the first of several such self-important actions by their new Ildyn. A few folk traveled to speak to the Ulfdyn about Vitta, but Borga did nothing about the complaints from the folk Vitta ruled over.

Perhaps I should go out into the wilderness again, Tulla said, breaking long period of wordless work his father was engaged in.

You haven’t yet sold the last furs you brought in, Torta countered.

There’s only two left, and they’re rabbit furs. I ought to look for better.

So long as you stay in the wilderness.

I always do, Father.

Torta put down his hammer. I know you camp near that old castle half a day to the north and east. It’s not a safe place, my son.

The stone hasn’t fallen in, Father.

All the more reason to stay away.

The legends say that our own folk knew magic, just as the foreigners from the west. The castle is more likely to be from one of our ancestors than from one the westerners.

You can’t believe every legend you hear. There’s no such thing as magic.

If that’s so, then why doesn’t Vitta allow the strangers in the ships to visit us?

Torta let out a laugh. Now you’re using your head, Tulla. He waved his hammer. Make sure you have food and water for the rest of the day. How long will you be gone?

I’ll try to get back in a day or two, Father.

Be careful.

I shall. Tulla nodded and left the shop.

He walked to the cabin that served as the home for he and his father. Tulla knew his father made enough at blacksmithing that Torta could buy or build a proper house. He also knew that a house would remind his father of the wife and two other children that had died of sickness a few years back. Work kept his father going, not his home life.

Tulla went into the cabin and to his bed. He reached underneath for his crossbow, his knives, and his cloak. He found enough dried meat and bread to take with him, and wrapped them in a piece of cloth. He found his canteen, left the cabin, and turned to head for the nearest water pump.

Remembering that the nearest well was close to the center of town, Tulla chose to go to another well. He wasn’t in the mood to give respect to Vitta’s boots, not with the sight of the ships clear in his mind. He wandered through Varkon, pausing now and again to watch folk hard at work at one shop or the other. He drew enough water to fill his canteen, then made his way past the coastal farms and into the wooded wilderness.

He knew it would be foolish of him to try to swim out to the ships while the sun was still up. If one of the guards saw him, or if one of Vitta’s few friends saw him, they’d run to Vitta. Vitta would then be certain to turn out the town to find out who dared to defy the Ildyn. He would learn who soon enough, and Torta would be punished.

Tulla chose instead to do what he promised his father he would do. He loaded his crossbow, and moved through the woods a step at a time. He was able to surprise and bring down a raven and two rabbits. He saw no traces of foxes, beavers, or any other animal that would earn him a few more silver for its fur or feathers. He noticed that some of the wildflowers were starting to bloom. That told him that the time for gathering flowers for potions and special drinks was approaching. Spring had indeed returned for good, and summer was on the way.

Tulla decided that, at nightfall, he’d camp close to the sea. Usually he preferred a campsite farther inland. He could set a trap, or if the wilderness was alive with too much sound, he could find a branch up a tree for safety. But that night he had another idea in mind. He needed to be just far enough from town so that no one would see his camp, yet close enough so that he wouldn’t spend half the night in the water swimming. He found a spot just as the sun was setting. He ate supper, then waited until it was dark. He took off his cloak, shirt, and boots, and went into the salty water.

Swimming was the one common skill that Tulla didn’t always have a chance to keep working at. The creeks and rivers close to Varkon were small enough to wade across. Tulla preferred hunting to fishing. All the same, he was surprised at how quickly the old lessons and the learned rythyms came back to him. He was not surprised, however, at how tired he felt as he approached the nearer of the two ships.

He thought he’d have to call out some sort of sound to attract the attention of the men on the ship. They had already seen him before he made it to the side of the ship, for one of them had already thrown the end of a rope into the water. Tulla grabbed the rope with both hands. He held on for a moment to catch his breath.

His first thought was that they would have heard him before they saw him. He glanced up the rope. He realized that lanterns had been hung along each side of that ship. The lanterns gave the ship a glow that would have allowed men on board it to see him swim up. He hadn’t thought of such a thing, as all the fishermen he knew would only go to sea at dawn and return at sunset. He understood the reason for the lanterns when he realized that the men had probably come from much more than one day’s sail away from here.

He didn’t expect the rope to move up. When it jerked, he looked up. He saw one man who was looking down at him one instant, then backward the next. Tulla wasn’t so tired that he couldn’t climb on his own. He let go of one arm and waved when the man looking his way again. He took another breath, and began to climb.

He was winded when he reached the deck, and still quite wet, but he was happy he had completed part of his effort. Another man on the ship handed him a blanket. He wrapped the blanket around his wet body. He leaned against the edge of the ship, and continued to catch his breath.

He looked at the men around him. A few appeared to be close to his own age, but most seemed to be anywhere from a few years older to old enough to be his father. They wore shirts much like the ones folks he knew wore. Their leggings were dark, as if made from leather, and they had either leather boots or shoes. All the men had skin tanned by the sun, but were by no means dark. There were no handsome faces, just a mix of average-looking fellows with a few ugly faces tossed in.

Tulla realized he’d been standing for a while, and hadn’t tried to speak to the strangers. He decided to ask the most obvious question first. Can you understand me? The men around him shrugged, or glanced at each other and shook their heads. Tulla repeated the question. It got the same reaction as it had the first time he asked.

He eased out of the blanket. He pointed to himself and said, I. He formed the fingers of his right hand into a mouth-like shape, and said, Speak. He pointed at the men. You. He waited and hoped.

Several of the men nodded. One of them, an older man, pointed at one of the younger men and said something in the tongue of the strangers. The sound of the words, though incomprehensible, seemed like something from an old ballad. The young man left the group, went to the other end of the ship, and took down one of the lanterns that had been hung up. He swung it back and forth.

Not just light, Tulla noted, but also a signal.

Several of the men moved away, most going through a door leading down into the ship. That allowed Tulla to see a lantern on the second ship swinging in the same manner as the young man on that ship had swung his. There was nothing more to see for a few moments, then Tulla gasped in shock.

Two men floated from the other ship to this one. The men were the same two who had landed in a small boat on the dock in Varkon earlier in the day. One was dressed much like the men on the ship, but his clothes were clean, and he wore a necklace with a jewel. The other man was dressed in leather armor that covered all but his head. The two men landed on the ship.

The older man who’d ordered the young fellow to send the signal whispered to both men. Both men nodded to him, and the well-dressed man patted him on the shoulder. The two men walked up to Tulla.

The well-dressed man pointed to himself. Jirg, he said. He pointed to the man in armor. Ullin.

Tulla guessed that those were their names. He pointed to himself and replied, Tulla.

The well-dressed man stuck out his right arm. Tulla looked for a moment, then understood that this was a greeting. He reached out to clasp the other man’s arm, his hand just below the other man’s elbow.

The man smiled. He moved Tulla’s hand off his arm, then clasped his hand. He shook Tulla’s hand firmly just once. Tulla guessed that, to these strangers, a friendly greeting was a shaking of hands, not clasping the arm. He smiled back at the man and nodded.

The man let go of his hand. The man started trying to communicate with Tulla. He began by telling him their words for simple things, like man and woman, ship and sea, land, trees, and so forth. Tulla caught on right away, and would speak back the words for those things in his own tongue. When he said his words, the two men would try to repeat them. Tulla then understood that it was up to him to do the same when they gave him their words in their own tongue.

It was easy at first, but as time went on, Tulla started to have doubts about his idea. After all, it was one thing to understand the common words for everyday things. But no one spoke with only those words. Only a small child would say, Me eat. Most folk would say, I’d like some smoked fish, or something like that.

The wave of doubt passed the longer that he worked at trying to talk to the two men. The took him around the deck of the ship, and spoke more complex words and a few phrases. They took him into the ship, and showed him that while the men of higher station slept in beds, the rest slept on pieces of heavy cloth hung between posts. They showed him the kitchen where food was prepared, let him taste a few things, and exchanged the words for the various steps and types of cooking.

Tulla was certain that at any moment he’d be too tired to go on. But the energy of trying to communicate with the two men, and their interest in trying to speak to him in return, kept him going. It wasn’t until he was back on the deck, and saw the sun starting to rise over the hills east of Varkon, that he realized he’d been awake all night.

The man called Jirg, or as he explained, George, pointed at the town. You go home now? he asked Tulla.

Tulla turned to look at Varkon. He could see a couple of men already moving around in the distance. One of the men was a guard. He remembered Vitta’s order, and why he’d needed to swim out to the ship after dark.

He paused to think of how he’d explain the situation. No. Vitta, Ildyn, said no speak to strangers. Folk see me if I go home.

George shook his head. No speak to us? Order?

Tulla nodded. Long ago, strangers with magic come here. Try to take over our land.

George looked at the other man and nodded. They spoke in their own tongue. Tulla understood some of their words. It seemed to him as if they had either heard the same tales as he had, or they knew tales similar to the ones passed down among the folk of the Mountain Kingdom.

Tulla felt tired, but he understood the implication of such a notion. The men who had come there so long ago, using magic to try to capture the Mountain Kingdom, must have also done similar things in the land they were from. Those men in the distant past had abused the gift the Gods had given them. They used magic for their own gain, without concern for others.

That led to another revelation in Tulla’s mind. He saw that George and the other man were less than happy to hear the brief statement about the past. Both frowned and shook their heads, and used words the sounded harsh to Tulla’s ears. These two used magic, and perhaps so did the folk of their homeland, but they didn’t use it for selfish or evil reasons. Tulla didn’t know if they used magic for good, or if they avoided using it to hold back temptation, but that seemed to be a positive sign.

At last the two men stopped talking to each other. George turned to Tulla. You stay. Sleep. Eat. We talk more after. Yes?

I can’t go back now, not with the sun coming up. So far these men have been good to me. I suppose, if they did have evil intent, they have magic. They could do whatever they want. It’s much better to keep trying to speak with them than to get into trouble with Vitta.

Yes, Tulla answered. Sleep now. Eat and talk after.

***

It was while he ate a midday meal with Allan and