A Warden Born

by Paul Summerhayes

  By midmorning, they were travelling down the mountain range. Between the rocky boulders, Finn caught glimpses of the land of Krystoria, which lay beyond the mountains. The land was flat and heavily treed. Between the trees, the sun reflected off water, as long rivers snaked their way through the endless forests.

  Gustav noticed Finn’s interest in the new land below and said, “Krystoria is our closest neighbouring country. Their culture is very similar to our own, but our kings are not on the friendliest terms.”

  “Why is that?” asked Finn.

  “Down in the south, the two countries share a border along very rich and fertile land. Our just king, Wilhelm III, and Krystoria’s King Ferdinand both lay claim to the same stretch of land. It has been in dispute since their fathers’ rule, many years ago. I guess the disagreement is not likely to be resolved anytime soon,” he said. “Recently, it has flared up again, because King Wilhelm’s nephew, Phillip—a Tarmian prince—was slain on their side of the border. King Ferdinand claims that Phillip was leading a raiding party into Krystoria. It’s a grave time, and it might just lead to war. As commoners, we will never really know the truth when war comes, but we will be expected to serve our king and country.”

  “We never hear stories of the capital or the king in the White Cloud Mountains, where I’m from.”

  “There is a lot to be said for a simpler life. I find living in the capital stressful, at sometimes.”

  “One day, I will visit the capital.”

  Gustav looked at Finn, “One day, young eldon, you may.”

  By midday, they were low on the eastern side of the mountains and Finn could see the Krystorian forests as an ocean of green that stretched out before him. A large river system was near them and it wound its way through some of the tallest trees he had ever seen. There was no sign of civilisation apart from the road they travelled on and a plume of grey smoke far off in the south. The young eldon could not tell whether it was a forest fire or manmade.

  “This is the biggest forest I have ever seen.” Finn shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare.

  “Yes. The Krystorians sell their timber all over the world.”

  “Are there any cities near here?”

  The gnome explained that there were some towns nearby and a large city half a day’s ride to the south, called Parma. It was where he was headed.

  “Does that mean we’ll be parting ways soon?”

  “Yes, my friend, when we reach the crossroad at the base of these mountains. I am heading south, but you must go north to find your friend.”

  Finn wished Gustav would travel north, as well, but the gnome had a duty to their king. He said he might find the young eldon on his way back. Finn thanked him, but it was hard to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

  Soon, he would be travelling alone again. Finn was afraid that he was not up to the task, and he subconsciously rested a hand on his sword hilt. The next part of the journey would require him to step up, if he was to save Anna.

  I hope I am capable.

  Chapter 16

  Just after midday, they arrived at a crossroad. The west road, which they had come from, was wide enough for two horses to travel abreast, and it was well-maintained. The east and southern roads could accommodate four horsemen riding abreast. The north road, however, was covered in tall grass and bushes. Finn’s heart sank a little more, knowing that this was road he must travel.

  The forest that lined the roads consisted of a tree that Finn was not familiar with. It appeared to be a type of pine that grew close together. The forest floor was heavily shaded, which made it difficult to see more than fifty yards into it. No animals were visible, but small, colourful birds sang and happily chased each other amongst the branches.

  Gustav decided they should stop and eat before parting ways. Finn dismounted from Brownie and tied both ponies to a tree. They happily nibbled the grass and bushes along the northern road. He walked a short distance and inspected the ground, where he could see wagon tracks that were only a few hours old.

  That must be the wagon that has Anna! “There are fresh wagon tracks, here,” he said to Gustav.

  “Hopefully, you are not far behind them.”

  The gnome tied his gelding to a tree, as well, and took a pack from his saddle bag. From it he produced bread, salted meat, biscuits, and two red apples. He invited his young companion to join him, and they both lounged under a tree, eating their banquet in silence.

  During the meal, Finn looked at the forest and felt alone and isolated. He was afraid of what lay ahead and he missed the fatherly advice that Kalher would have given him at this time.

  What would the old man say to me, now? ‘Don’t feel sorry for yourself,’ for starters. Or ‘putting one foot in front of the other is a good start to getting things done’. My choice is simple, save Anna. I just wish I knew how.

  “Well, young Finn, it's time that I start heading south and you must find your girl.”

  “You’re right,” Finn sighed. “I just wish I was more like the mighty warriors from the old stories.”

  “Finn, I think you will surprise yourself, when the time comes.”

  They both stood and packed what was left of the food. Gustav offered it to Finn. “I will be in town tonight. You need this more than I do.”

  “I know I have said it before, but thank you for all of your help. You saved my life at the inn last night, and I will be forever in your debt.”

  “It was a pleasure to—” the gnome was suddenly motionless. “Listen!”

  All Finn heard were the birds singing their merry songs. Gustav lifted a hand, though, and then Finn heard it. Horses riding hard were heading their way.

  “Quick! Let’s get the horses into the trees,” said the gnome.

  They ran to their horses, guided them into the forest, and quickly moved into a defensive position behind a large, mossy log.

  Looks like Krulta and his orcs are bringing the fight to us.

  He started to draw his black sword, when Gustav placed his hand on Finn’s arm. “Wait,” warned the gnome, “and let me do the talking.”

  A few heartbeats later, a group of horsemen rode up the southern road. Dust from their hooves filled the air, as one the riders hollered and pointed in their direction. The ten riders skilfully brought their mounts under control and formed a line facing the two travellers.

  The riders were knights and wore steel, T-faced barbute helmets, and chainmail shirts and leggings. A dark-blue surcoat was worn over the top of their armour and was adorned with a golden eagle’s head. The same design was on their shields. The knights’ large, strong destriers pawed at the ground impatiently.

  “You, there! Who are you? Why do you skulk in my forest?” shouted the lead horseman.

  Gustav spoke up quickly. “We are free men, lord, and we are not skulking. We removed ourselves from the road, so as not to hinder your journey.”

  The rider looked down at the two and sternly sized them up. He then removed his helmet, and, with a smile, replied, “Well said, noble gnome.”

  He slid off his horse and threw his reins to one of his brethren. The knight was every bit a soldier, as he walked with one hand on his sword hilt and surveyed the trees for danger. He was a tall, dark-haired man, and not much older than Finn. He had a confident gait of one who was used to command.

  “I am Lord Anthon Cisaro,” said the knight, with a thick Krystorian accent. “Who might I be addressing?”

  “I am Gustav Burgenmosse,” said the gnome with a bow. “This is my friend, Finn.” The eldon followed Gustav’s lead and bowed to the knight, as well.

  “Well met, my friends. Now, why are you travelling on my roads?” The mounted knights watched on silently.

  “Err, you see, Finn, here, was travelling with his… fiancée, in Tarmia, when they were set upon by orc bandits. The orcs stole his fiancée and we have tracked them here. We are close behind them, as they travel with a wagon.”

  “A wagon? How odd,” said C
isaro, who raised an eyebrow. “So, Gustav, you were also travelling with the two eldons?”

  “No. I happened upon Finn yesterday and threw in with the young eldon. Anna, his fiancée, had already been kidnapped.”

  “That is very noble of you to aid two eldon in distress.”

  “Anna is human, my lord,” Finn corrected.

  “Human?” asked Cisaro. “A mixed relationship? You are very progressive in Tarmia.”

  The gnome continued, “Anna was taken by the orcs and brought to your country for reasons unknown.”

  “Well, that is a spot of bad luck. You said the orcs went east from here?”

  “No,” said Finn, “they went north.”

  “North? No one goes north—evil things dwell in the northern forests. I am afraid your Anna is dead, or soon will be.”

  “No! I will find her, first.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said the knight, as he turned and walked back to his waiting men. “I must depart now, but I wish you all the best in your venture.” He put a foot in his stirrup and mounted his horse smoothly. In unison, the knights turned their horses and sped down the east road, leaving a trail of dust in their wake. Within moments, they were out of sight.

  “Gustav, what was that?”

  “That, my young friend, is a Krystorian-style border patrol. If I am not mistaken, the Cisaro family is closely related to King Ferdinand. I would guess that this Anthon Cisaro is a prince.”

  A prince? Wow. He was the first royalty Finn had ever seen.

  Gustav led his horse to the road and mounted it, before looking at his companion. “I wish you luck in your quest, Finn. I must complete my mission, now. I will try to find you afterward. Goodbye, and good luck.” With a wave, the little gnome turned his horse and rode south.

  Finn watched, until he disappeared around a bend, before mounting Patch. “Come on. Let’s find Anna.” With a gentle kick, he rode up the north road and Brownie followed behind.

  Chapter 17

  A wagon went this way.

  From the back of his pony, two lines of crushed vegetation could clearly be seen along the north road. Tracking the wagon would be easy. On his right side were tall pine trees that seemed to go on forever and on his left were the rocky foothills of the Cold Heart Mountains.

  Although it was only mid-afternoon, the road was in the mountains’ shadows. A cool breeze, which was funnelled between the mountains and the forest, blew into Finn's face. He pulled up the hood on his coat.

  This is a cold spring.

  Finn encouraged the ponies on, but they were more interested in eating grass. “Come on, Patch, you can eat later.” He gently nudged the pony in the ribs and he started to walk again. “Thank you.”

  He wondered how Garm was doing in Freewater. Finn didn’t expect that he would have any problems—even Kirk Auttenburg was smart enough not to mess with Garm. He smiled at the thought, and then hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed that he hadn’t found their father yet. Finn also thought about Kalher and wondered if he had any family. He was going to miss the old man and he knew Garm would too.

  The afternoon wore on and the forest got denser as he travelled north. If it were even possible, the forest appeared more menacing, too. Finn looked into the trees and half-expected to see bandits, orcs, or worse running out to attack him. Thick clumps of ferns created plenty of hiding places amongst the tree roots and old, moss-covered logs.

  The never ending forest cycle, Finn mused. Trees grow from a seed, reach for the sky, age and fall to the ground, rot, and become food for other trees. Like all things, nothing lives forever. He paused. Almost nothing. Mordan was immortal, but if he was a creature of nature, like all living things, Finn had to wonder why nature would have one rule for all things and another for alps. It was strange. He wondered where the old bloodsucker would be now. He was probably hiding in a cave, somewhere, or draining harmless villagers of their blood, Finn decided.

  Do alps have feelings or emotions?

  A sound, much like a cry for help, brought Finn out of his daydream. It was late afternoon and the air was crisp and cold. He reined in his pony and Patch stopped without a fuss.

  Did I really hear something, or was it the howl of the wind?

  He heard it again. It sounded more like a shout than a cry for help. Finn decided to take a look. Maybe he’d caught up with the wagon.

  He led the ponies into the forest, where they couldn’t be seen from the road, hitched them to a tree, and spread some feed on the ground. He left them and crept through the trees toward the sound. After about fifty yards, Finn could clearly hear someone shouting. It was a deep, gruff voice that could only belong to a large person.

  Orcs!

  The young eldon crept closer to the sound, and, through the trees, he saw a canvas covered wagon with large shapes moving around it. There were at least four of them and one was Krulta. There was no mistaking the orc’s massive body and large, ugly head.

  Krulta One-Eye did not look happy. Two orcs held up the rear of the wagon, while a third orc took off a wooden-spoked wheel. He bellowed orders at the workers and appeared displeased with how they completed their task.

  Krulta said, “Undo that! Lift it higher, you lazy piles of dragon droppings,” as well as other things in a language that Finn didn’t understand. Despite the cool air, sweat dripped off the three labouring orcs.

  “Stand aside, halfwit,” bellowed Krulta, as he dragged one of them out of the way. Krulta gripped either side of the wagon wheel, and, with a jerk, removed it from the wagon’s axle, before throwing it several yards into the forest. He picked up a spare wheel leaning against a tree and pushed it onto the axle with a satisfied grunt.

  I do not want to cross swords with him.

  “There! If you want something done right, you’ve gotta do yourself.”

  There was no sign of Anna, just the four orcs. After they finished locking the wheel in position, two orcs lifted the wagon’s cover and climbed in. The driver got into the front seat and grabbed the mule’s reins.

  Krulta looked around impatiently, and Finn ducked down into the undergrowth for a moment, before peering out for another look through fern fronds.

  He’s waiting for someone.

  After some time, an orc stepped out the trees further up the road and came toward the wagon. He carried a small, compact bow in one hand and a dead rabbit in the other, which he proudly displayed for Krulta. The orc leader nodded his approval and climbed into the wagon beside the driver.

  Well, that’s five orcs. I knew Wolfgang was lying.

  A small group of goblins appeared from the trees and followed the orc hunter. The dirty imps were vocal and appeared to be arguing about something.

  Five orcs and six goblins—great.

  “About time,” Krulta grumbled. “Where’s the other dummy?”

  There’s more?

  A stick broke behind Finn and he whipped around just in time to see a large, brown fist, before it hit him in the forehead. His vision blurred and his head spun. Unable to control himself, Finn fell to the ground with a dull thump, as waves of blackness threatened to overwhelm his senses.

  He lay motionless in the undergrowth and looked up at the treetops and sky. Finn felt warmth in the cool air and was oddly disconnected from his body.

  “I got one!”

  Six orcs!

  All went dark.

  Finn’s numb body rocked gently back and forth, he was cold and his mouth was dry. He groaned and opened his eyes to find that it was almost dark.

  Where am I?

  He could just make out large, silent shapes around him.

  “He’s awake,” said a deep voice in the darkness.

  “Finn!” called a familiar voice.

  Anna’s alive!

  “Anna?” he replied weakly.

  “Shut up, or I’ll give you another thumping. You too, missy.”

  Thick ropes tightly secured his hands and feet as he lay in the back of a wagon, which rocked as i
t travelled along the road.

  He sat up to find several large boxes at the front of the wagon, as well as four orcs. Anna sat in the rear with him. A white canvas cover stopped him from seeing much of his surroundings, but a small opening allowed Finn to catch a glimpse of the dark forest as they passed.

  Seeing Anna again felt like a big weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Finn smiled and Anna briefly smiled back. She looked scared, though. On her cheek was a large, dark bruise and her bottom lip was split and swollen.

  Those bastards! I will make them pay!

  He subconsciously reached for his sword, but it was gone.

  Crap! I’m in trouble.

  Night was approaching as they bounced along the forest road. The orcs remained watchfully silent, and he and Anna were not permitted to communicate. One of the orcs was odd-looking and stood out from the others. He had blue paint on one side of his face and a necklace made of small animal bones and feathers. Two large, silver rings went through the orc’s nose and gave him a feral look. The strange orc grinned stupidly at Finn, as if he was sizing the eldon up for dinner.

  “Where are we going?” asked Finn. He was rewarded with a kick from the closest orc. Anna winced and shook her head. She was visibly worried for her friend.

  “We don’t need you, eldon—I suggest you keep your yap shut,” said an orc with a blue painted face.

  “I say we just kill him. The master’s going to, anyway,” said another.

  “That’s up to the master, not you, Tarrak!”

  “It was just an idea,” Tarrak replied.

  “Krulta said idiots like you are not allowed to have ideas, remember?”

  “Yeah, I forgot,” said Tarrak with a stupid grin. “Hey, Karp, can I eat him when he’s dead?”

  For an instant, the blue-faced orc’s eyes glowed red. It was over quickly, though, and Finn was not sure what he’d witnessed.

  Holding up his hands, Tarrak said, “Okay, I was just asking.”