by Paul G Mann
physical strength and confidence in hunting, when it came to women he was at a complete loss. He knew she was missing her husband and children; he knew she was vulnerable and one wrong move by him could be misunderstood and lead to her never trusting him again. He knew, but it never stopped him moving over to her and taking her in his powerful arms to comfort her. The rest as they say is history; they were lovers before the day was out.
A month after leaving Mossybanks Fred ambled down to the water’s edge to fill the canvass canteens with enough water for the days march northward. It was early in the day; with dawn only a half hour gone. Liz was busy cooking a breakfast of the fish he had caught the night before and flat bread made last night from the last of the flour they had picked up in Mossybanks. He was looking forward to it, the smell as it wafted on the breeze making his stomach rumble with anticipation. As he bent to fill the first canteen he glanced out across the huge lake that was known as the inland sea. About a mile away he could make out the distinctive shape of a triangular sail and stood open mouthed at the unexpected sight. A sail here on Newth was unheard of and if seen by the Hunki would be unheard of again.
Gathering the filled canteens he made his way back to camp. Grey clouds hung low in the air and it was getting colder each day. Snow wasn’t far off and while that posed a slight problem with travel he assumed walking along the shore would be safer footing when the snow fell and became heavy forming a white blanket on the ground. Now with the sail on the lake he wasn’t so sure. Whoever was in the boat was out there for a reason. What the reason was he could only guess at, but if the boat hugged the shore he and Liz would be seen by the occupants and that could lead to complications for them both. Complications they could do without especially if the occupants where antagonistic towards them.
Liz was far more trusting than Fred. To her a boat meant transport; she hadn’t been on Newth long enough to understand how rare a boat was or how unsafe it could be if it had been built by an idiot without the right tools. Fred cast his mind back to his own knowledge of seamanship. Boats made of wood needed caulking to make them watertight, they needed proper ropes for rigging and proper canvas for sails, anything else and the first strong wind would rip the sails to shreds and bring the rigging down around the heads of those on board. It was a dilemma that Fred wanted to leave alone; he knew the dangers of sailing even on a well built ship well maintained by an experienced crew. Whoever was on the sail boat on the lake was an amateur, he had to be by the very fact that to Fred’s knowledge it was the only ship in existence on this God forsaken rock. In the end his arguments won Liz over and they decided to let the boat sail on its merry way ignorant of their presence on shore.
Two days later the temperature plunged to freezing and the snow began to fall. Within twelve hours it was knee deep making walking difficult in the extreme. Newth had no moon and therefore little in the way of tide movement but as the water in the lake was warmer than the surrounding air, the snow near the water’s edge was only an inch or two deep. With Fred taking the lead the two companions made slow but steady progress along the lake shore. Thankfully as far as Fred was concerned the boat didn’t show again, not that he thought it posed any danger to him or Liz but whoever the sailor was it would draw attention to him and Fred through years of experience knew on this world attention was the last thing anyone needed, if not from the Hunki then from others of their own race who would see attention seeking as an excuse for robbery or worse.
The thin even layer of snow made progress slow and Fred was concerned their meagre provisions wouldn’t last the month or so needed to reach East Harbour. Finding shelter in a small cave he decided to make camp for a few days to hunt and make good their supplies. The cold weather made the smoking and curing of any meat they caught superfluous; once skinned, gutted and cleaned any meat would freeze within the hour. Three days later laden down with rabbit and venison from a young buck the pair resumed their slow journey north only stopping to make camp to eat and sleep of a night.
East Harbour is a reasonably large village of about two hundred inhabitants. Underground like all the villages on Newth it differed only in the large never ending natural tunnels and caverns instead of the more usual small man made tunnels other villages comprised of. The other major difference was the lack of the overpowering smell of unwashed bodies and human waste most villages purported; it was also cleaner than most places he had visited on his travels. Situated next to the large inland lake with natural flowing springs running inside the cavern network, washing and toilet facilities were readily available with the only real problem being the lack of privacy that over the years had been overcome by the construction of makeshift wooden walls. These facilities were communal but it was the one place inhabited with people on Newth that Fred didn’t mind spending time in.
Not knowing what to expect Fred cautioned Liz not to mention his identity. This might prove a useless exercise if some sharp eyed local seeing his distinctive size put two and two together, but Fred banked on the fifty years plus since his last visit here making even the most nosey of the local population forget him. He really wanted to spy out the place and see why and what the people here wanted of him before announcing to the world in some sort of grand exposé who he was. Never one for being the centre of attention, he was much more at home in the background watching and waiting, it was what made him the hunter he was, slow when needed but patient and deadly once spurred into action.
It was made clear to them that their presence here was not wanted; they would be given shelter and food for a night or two but it was expected they would then move on. This was something new to Fred; most villages welcomed new members, God knows enough were killed by the Hunki and other ‘natural causes’ that the turning away of people was virtually unheard of. These people were frightened, of that he was certain, of what he didn’t as yet know. All attempts at friendly casual conversation with the inhabitants were either ignored or sidestepped and while the people weren’t exactly hostile to them, they were left in no doubt that the hand of friendship was not offered either.
His enquiries got him nowhere except more distrust and he spent a frustrated night in fitful sleep deliberating the situation. He woke with a determination to get to the bottom of things and ascertaining who the current village head man was he bided his time and approached him when he was alone.
‘I understand you’ve sent word out saying you’re in need of my services’ he said quietly.
‘And who are you?’ the head man countered after a momentary pause in which he looked Fred up and down.
‘Oh’ said Fred in mock surprise, ‘just how many people’s services are you looking for?’
‘Only one,’ the head man replied, ‘but he is someone I am led to believe is rather special and while I can see you erm, stand out in a crowd, the situation here makes trusting strangers a dangerous business, so I’ll ask again, who are you?’
‘I think we could fence like this all day,’ Fred replied with a mirthless smile. ‘You know who I am as well as I do so unless you start telling me what the hell is going on and what you want me to do I will gladly leave you to whatever fate you think is about to befall you.’
‘Two things,’ the head man replied after a minute spent staring at Fred. ‘One is we have an idiot in some sort of boat that plies up and down about a mile off shore. If the Hunki see it they will destroy this place and the people here. But that I suppose is something we can deal with ourselves. Tell me Fred, have you heard of the judges.’
‘Judges, only the ones that travel the country arbitrating in disputes,’ Fred replied.
‘If that was the case we wouldn’t need you.’ The head man said thoughtfully. I’m afraid those kindly souls have gone, probably killed by the new breed that has sprung up around here. As yet no one knows where they come from, but they are viscous nasty pieces of work who are bleeding us dry. If we kick them out, they retreat to the tree line and kill anyone who tries to leave; many have been killed or seriously w
ounded by an arrow in the back. They then return offering us protection from the killing, for a price of course; refuse them and they return to the trees and the killing starts again. So far we have lost twelve people, all killed with a crossbow. To stop the killing we agreed to pay their taxes but they are bleeding us dry. We’re running out of provisions and stores; winter has set in and we will be lucky to see it through without starvation. We had hoped you would have got here sooner but we’re grateful you got here at all.’
‘I’m still not sure what you want me to do,’ Fred said quietly as the head mans words sank into his mind. ‘Why don’t you just kill these parasites and have done with it?’
‘We did. We killed the first judge that made demands on us after he had killed a young woman. We left his body in the woods for the Rippers to have. Two months later four of them turned up looking for him, they didn’t believe us when we said he had left and they captured one of our hunters, tortured him until he told them what had happened. They beheaded him and stuck his head on a pole outside the village before coming into the village and killing six people in revenge.’
‘I’m still not sure what you want me to do,’ Fred said in his quiet voice. ‘Killing them would only bring retribution on you and besides which, I’m not an assassin that can be hired for gain.’
‘I know that,’ he replied hastily. ‘To be honest I don’t know what we expect you to do. We sent word out to bring you here only because of something that was said early last summer. John Forsythe overheard two of them talking about you and how they don’t want you knowing what they do. For some reason known only to them, they’re scared of you. Maybe if you move here your presence will make them leave us in peace,’
‘Maybe so and I’m not saying you’re right, but even if you are I’m sorry but living the way you do is not my idea of living, I prefer the woods, these tunnels would suffocate me. Even if I was here when they came back I could no nothing more than frighten them,’ he shrugged his shoulders in apology, ‘I’m sorry but once I leave you’ll be on your own again and back where you started.’
‘Then I’m sorry to have brought you here with winter setting in,’ the head man replied resignation evident in his voice and stance. ‘People here thought you were their only hope, especially after what John Forsythe said about them and you.’
‘Which was what?’ Fred asked knowing instinctively that by asking the question he would be trapped and compelled to somehow help these people.
‘He overheard two of them talking as they left laden down with the goods and supplies they had taken as their tax. One said it was a good job you weren’t in the area; the other asked why and was told by the first one that if you had been here gathering a tax would have been impossible. He said you moved like a ghost and could creep up on someone to within a few inches of them without them knowing you were there. He then went on to describe your expertise with a bow and how you could pluck the eye out of a bird in flight at two hundred yards. Basically he was terrified of you and warned the other judge to stay well clear of you if you were anywhere near a village they were trying to collect taxes from.’
‘Let me think on it,’ Fred replied slowly. ‘I’m not sure what exactly I can do if anything at all. I need to speak to my companion to see what her plans are. I’ll let you know tomorrow what I can do.’
Four
Compared to Haroldstown and Hawkspoint, East Harbour was to Liz’s mind a revelation. It was clean for a start, had fresh water readily available, didn’t stink of human waste and once the people there found out who Fred was they treated her with a kindness and respect the Hawkspoint residents could do well to copy. Given the circumstances it was also well set out inside the tunnels with escape hatches never more than a hundred feet away from you. Rough furniture was provided by carpenters that matched anything she had lived with before being brought here. The only real thing lacking was anything made from metal; cooking pots, knives, forks all that sort of thing was made from either stone or animal bone. Clothing was also made from animal skins, bedding was made from rough wool made from the hair of the native sheep, it wasn’t really a sheep but for the want of a better word that’s what the locals called it. All in all the trappings of the civilisation she was used too was not far removed from here; the notable difference being it was underground not above it.
With these circumstances in mind she was happy to stay here when Fred broached the subject to her. As a sweetener he promised to take her out each day to continue her education in living outside in the woods and forests. Winter wasn’t an ideal time to learn these skills but with shelter not too far away in the tunnels of East Harbour it made learning easier and a lot less hazardous.
With Liz’s agreement Fred was good as his word and informed the head man, (a former poacher from the valleys of South Wales called Gethin Jones) of his intention to stay with the proviso that when he left Liz would be given accommodation and looked after by the community. Agreed to without any haggling Fred began to wonder how he was going to handle the situation. He still had no idea what he could do to deter these so called judges and if or when they came back he decided to let the situation unfold as it would. After all if what Gethin said was true in relaying the tale John Forsythe was reputed to have told, he only had to utter his name to have these judges running. Time would tell he decided; besides it wasn’t worth worrying about now, winter was here and only a fool would travel across country at this time of year.
The ‘season’s’ on Newth were similar to the seasons on Earth. In any given year there would be a hard winter such as the one Fred and Liz were experiencing now followed by a short spring, then a hot summer before a short almost unnoticeable autumn brought about the hard winter once more. Not really ideal for Earth vegetation but the Earth fauna that flourished had adapted well to the conditions while others had died off after only a few years. Fred had no understanding of why the seasons behaved the way they did, he cared little about it; he was only sure in the knowledge of how to exist in Newth’s climate and was convinced beyond all reasoning that it would be a while before the judges came calling. The harsh winter would also keep the Hunki away; they didn’t like the wet or cold, a fact Fred was more than happy about as he wouldn’t have to keep looking over his shoulder. Winter may be harsh here on Newth but it was the one season the human population could relax.
Liz would never become as proficient with a bow and arrow as Fred, she didn’t have his immense strength for a start but she was patient in the hunt and had a good eye that could down a quarry over fifty yards without any trouble. When it came time for him to leave he knew she would be able to look after herself and that pleased him. The locals also showed her great respect; he wondered if that would be the same after he left but judging by the way they revered him he somehow doubted they would give her a hard time or suffer the abuse she had received in Hawkspoint.
The harsh winter came and went; time Fred used well in stocking up travelling supplies and trading his wares for a host of other stuff including a well made one man portable canvas shelter, erected with stone smoothed wooden poles that would be ideal for him in the forests of Newth. With winters end Fred resumed his perpetual glance at the sky when out in the open, he also took to the trails leading out of East Harbour looking for the signs that would mean danger is near from either Ripper or Human. Three weeks later he saw signs in the distance that East Harbour was about to have Human visitors.
Two hours after sunrise the following day he saw them; three men walking out from the tree line; two pulling a small rough made cart with wooden wheels, the third striding along in front, full of misguided self importance. Fred stepped out from behind the bushes he had used as his lookout point; he took four arrows from his quiver and pushed three of them head first into ground in front of him. The fourth arrow he knocked in his bow and stood waiting until the men approached to within two hundred feet. He pulled back on the bow string and let the arrow fly. True to his aim it imbedded itself into the ground inch
es in front of the lead man.
‘Turn around and go away,’ he shouted, ‘or the next arrow will be used on your grave marker.’
‘Just who the hell are you,’ he shouted back as he pulled the arrow out of the ground and snapped it in two over his knee. ‘We’re judges from Stonehaven here to collect taxes and you are interfering with our lawful duties.’ As he spoke he continued walking towards Fred.
‘Your lawful duties don’t concern anyone here,’ Fred replied in his raised voice. ‘Save yourself a lot of grief my friend, turn around and leave while you can.’ As he finished speaking he picked an arrow out of the ground and knocked it in the bow.
As he expected the judge increased his gait, quickly covering the ground between them raising a crossbow as he did so, his two companions still pulling on the hafts of the cart followed him. Fred never hesitated he sent the knocked arrow true and straight into the arm of a man pulling the cart. He barely had time to scream before the next arrow was on its way to take his companion in the arm. The judge turned, took stock of the situation and turned back to Fred who by this time had the bow drawn with the final arrow pointing directly at the lead mans chest.
‘The first two arrows were warnings; this one will take you in your heart. The choice is yours.’
‘We’ll go,’ the lead man said releasing the tension on his crossbow string and slipping the weapon over his shoulder, ‘but we’ll be back. I know who you are now and believe me; I’m going to take great delight in plucking the eyes out of your head for this.’
‘You might as well know my name,’ Fred smiled, ‘those that know me call me Fred. For your own sake, don’t come back, if I see you near here again I’ll kill you and leave your body for the Rippers. Now go! And for your own sake don’t return.’ He pulled back on the bowstring and let the final arrow fly. True and straight it flew, brushing high up the inside of the judges’ thigh before it landed with a resounding thud between the legs of the astonished would be official.
Fred waited, a half smile on his face as he watched the judge turn with a scream of fright and push his companions back along the trail with the cart discarded in his panic to get away. The cart was a poorly constructed box on wheels the contents of which could be discarded without worry. They