by Zax Vagen
Next, he hoisted the cross beam that he had prepared from the top part of the tree. It was just long enough to brace between two trees left and right of the one he had cut but that would be enough. He knew that if he could fire off just five shots then he would cause mayhem.
“This is going to be awesome.” Jem murmured to himself as he started to giggle.
The magnitude of the project that he had taken on was starting to sink in. He realized that the machine he was building alone in the forest was not less than ten times bigger than the one that he had built for the canyon crossing. He hoisted the massive cross beam, pulling the rope through the blocks hand over hand. He was exhausted. His arms burned like fire as they hung at his sides. “I’m going to feel that in the morning for sure.” said Jem.
Sweat poured down his face and soaked his shirt as he sat on a log to catch his breath. He was just about to enter into a lazy daydream when the sun came through the gap in the forest canopy, a reminder that his time was running out.
Jem scrambled to the next task. He had to tie off the beam on the three points and recover the blocks. The task of climbing and balancing in a tree with an exhausted body was like salt in the eye, but Jem knew that this had to be done, despite adversity. His success was required. “Dig deep.” said Jem. “Don’t save any strength for later.” Then he looked down at the massive pile of branches and cursed again “Stupid villagers!” and pressed on as the tears streamed down his face. He knew now that he would either find a brilliant plan or fail. “Think Jem, think.” He commanded himself.
He tied the last side of the massive crossbeam and slid down the tree a little too fast and cut his hands. The blood streamed from his palms and fingers as the sap in the wounds burned like fire.
Jem wept. The very thing that he had planned to do to his enemy in the castle he had done to himself. His resolve was shattered. The wisps gathered closer to Jem and he could hear their crooning, as if they were mocking him. Jem tried to ignore the problem as he bound his hand with pieces ripped out of his shirt. The wisps came closer. Jem lost his temper with them and the situation. He picked up a log and threw it at the wisps. They dissipated. Jem stood in shock as he realised the solution to his problem. “Finish what you started.” Jem commanded himself.
The pain in Jem’s hands subsided to a dull ache as he set to work. “The final climb, nothing else matters until that is done.”
Jem had to tie the shot rope to the top of the tree trunk and attach the firing-release hook. He used an exercise that he had learned from a village elder. ‘Make everything in the world invisible, except what you need to do right now.’ Jem focused on his task, nothing else mattered to him. The sling was attached and ready for firing. Now all he had to do was cut the bottom of the tree bole below ground level, allowing it to swing freely on the cross beam. The cutting wire that Thist had imbued worked better every time it was used, like a tool that becomes sharper with usage. Jem sliced the massive tree, and as he cut through the dead wood he could hear the wisps screaming. “I hope I’m not making them angry.” He mumbled.
The tree swung free of the ground, pivoting between the two adjacent trees on the cross beam. The bottom of the tree was as wide as a small village hut and was heavy enough to be the counter weight. All Jem had to do was to make it pivot on a joint without scraping on the ground. Using the cutting wire Jem fashioned a joint with wedge cuts and ropes to turn the sturdy tree trunk into a swinging counter weight. Now swinging freely and level with the ground, the trebuchet was ready to fire but for one thing; the mass of tangled branches on the firing bed.
Jem used the remaining blocks and ropes to wind up the trebuchet for its first shot, right on time. The mass of branches wouldn’t matter. He pulled on the rope through the blocks over and over. “Stupid wisps, why don’t you help me?” the wisps did nothing, they only stared, crooned and made Jem feel uncomfortable. “Finally!” said Jem.
The trebuchet was cocked and ready. His hands ached, working with tired and injured hands was bad and it was made worse by the looming deadline. “Now for the first shot.” said Jem.
He grabbed a double hook shaped branch and laid the one hook into the sling cradle. He looked up at the position of the sun to gauge the time. “It’s show time my friends.”
He pulled the firing pin. At first there was a creaking sound, like the hull of an old wooden ship birthing. The leverage on the counterweight was a thousand fold. The sound of snapping twigs followed as the large hook branch in the sling started to snag branches. The tranquillity of the forest ended with the ripping sound of bark being sheered from the twisting cross beam. Jem’s eyes grew wide. “Oh no, what have I done?” He said.
Jem retreated a few steps as he realized he was in grave danger. If the trebuchet experienced a catastrophic misfire then Jem would be pulped. The counterweight bit into the gravity of the world as it began to fall from the hoisted height. The main mast creaked and groaned as it flexed under the forces at play. The hook branch scraped up all and sundry that lay on the ground. Every bow, every branch and every twig squashed and snagged as it ripped through the centre gap. Then the hissing of air and the howling of wind as a vacuum sucked in from behind the now flying mountain of forest debris. The sling whipped around in a large arc. As the shot reached the apex of the arc, the sky exploded in a boom like a gargantuan whip crack. The debris flew high into the air. It started to fall apart creating a cloud of flying firewood soaring toward the castle. Jem stood in awe as he watched the cloud of lumber disappear beyond his vision.
Then he snickered “That’s how you clear the firing bed.”
55
Kelvin had been snoozing at his vantage point. His travel weary joints were aching and he cherished the moment of rest. There had been no movement from the castle in hours. No messengers had been sent out. The siege was on.
Kelvin had prepared an assortment of arrows that were imbued with different abilities. He had wondered what he would have to use for what and when. Thist had explained what each type of arrow could do and vaguely described what should be used for what. But the plan was more about treating the symptoms than curing a problem. Kelvin sat uncomfortably, he rubbed his knuckles and rolled his wrists to try to keep them warm and ready for action but he knew that a siege could just be short bursts of action followed by long periods of nothing. The gates could not be breached nor the walls be scaled. The only way to gain access to the castle was to force the residents to open the gates and let them walk in.
The sun beat down on Kelvin and he moved to a shady spot under a fig tree. He still had a good view over the castle and could see Thist standing like a statue on the road facing the castle. It was almost an hour after noon when the tranquil ambiance was shattered by a loud explosion.
Kelvin clenched his bow as he observed a massive cloud of debris hurtle through the air from the ancient forest. “That’s it Jem.” he said to himself as he raised his bow and notched a carefully selected arrow. He drew back and held his breath as he concentrated on his aim. The cloud of dry branches and twigs crashed against the top of the castle battlement. Most of the lumber fell to the outside and lay on the grassy berm between the castle wall and the moat water.
Kelvin loosed the arrow. It turned invisible as it streaked into the air, hiding the archer’s location. He could not see what had happened to it but he knew it must still be aloft as it needed to cover a great distance to its target. Just before it struck its target the arrow ignited, splashing the target area with flames. The pile of wood smouldered where the arrow found its centre. The crystallized sap in the dead wood boiled out, fuelling the flames as they raged tall and hot. The soft breeze sent the billowing smoke up and over the castle battlement and filled the keep with a choking pall. Kelvin wiped the sweat from his brow as the heat of the day delivered its discomfort.
“I wish it would rain.” said Kelvin.
56
Jem was exhausted.
He didn’t have the strength left in his arms to haul a large boulder
into the sling shot position, even if he used clever equipment. His legs wobbled as he staggered toward the pile of wares that the three deserting helpers had left. He was hungry, thirsty, tired and his hands hurt more than he could bear. Jem gritted his teeth. “Nothing, I failed them.” He could not see the pillar of smoke that rose from the castle wall and was unaware that the act of shooting a pile of sticks at a formidable castle was having a profound effect on its inhabitants.
He rummaged through the deserter’s packs. “Oh, how disgusting!” exclaimed Jem as he got his bandaged hand sticky on one of the village cheeses.
He wiped his hand on the side of the woven cloth bag as he tried not to gag. The stench was like torture as the agitated cheese started to diffuse its ghastly smell. It became worse the more Jem rubbed his hand. Jem walked away from the pile of goods as his appetite failed. He held his hand behind his back as he walked in an effort to evade the smell. Then he stopped and bent over as he retched. His stomach was empty and nothing came out, but his body had decided that it was poisoned and demanded a full evacuation of its contents.
Jem came to a sense of total clarity of mind as the obvious task at hand became clear. He trotted back to the pile of villager’s goods and checked all three packs. There was a cheese in every one. Not small cheeses either. Some of the villagers only ate the cheese and nothing else. They had packed enough cheese to last them for three days. Jem shouldered the cheese bags and hurried back to firing bed. “This is going to be sick.” Jem laughed.
The sudden boost in moral gave Jem a surge in his energy and a spring in his step. He still hurt and he was still bone tired, but this was the test of a man who wanted to know what his own limits were. He pulled on the block and tackle as he wound up his siege engine for another shot. As soon as the sling clicked into position Jem pulled the firing pin. The shaggy bags of cheeses bumped up and down as they as they were dragged across the firing bed. At first the inertia of the massive engine worked against itself, but that same inertia would make all the difference in the end. The shot bags accelerated, followed by the hissing and whistling of rope travelling through the air at great speed. At the apex of the arc the sling let loose with another deafening whip crack. It was so loud that Jem thought the sky had exploded and would fall to pieces all around him.
The shot of cheese bags were gone. Jem could not see where it had gone as it was travelling too fast to follow by eye and his field of vision was encumbered by the ancient forest.
Kelvin and Thist looked up at the sound of the sonic boom. Both of them saw an orange ball streak out of the sky like a shooting star and disappear into the centre of the castle. They stood stiff and listened. There was no sound to follow. All fell quiet.
Kelvin eased himself away from his vantage and made his way back to the agreed upon waypoint. As he approached the waypoint farther up the road, Kelvin met up with Thist. “Thist hey!” called Kelvin. “What a day!”
“Sure.” said Thist “I’m hungry. Let’s find Jem. Quick, don this cloak.”
The two friends hurried to where Jem had built the Trebuchet. They had a long way to walk over to the ancient forest and took it upon themselves to jog the whole way. Night was falling and the three might need to make a shelter. As they approached the meagre clearing where Jem had worked, Kelvin looked up at the trebuchet with an open mouth. “Wow, that thing is massive.” He said.
Jem was lying under a small tent, fast asleep.
As they approached the tent they heard the soft but quickening pitter-patter of incoming rain. “That’s just wonderful.” said Thist sarcastically.
Kelvin put out his hand to feel the incoming rain. “It is wonderful; I’m taking a rain shower.” Kelvin stripped off all his clothes and threw them into the tent to prevent them from getting wet. Then Kelvin walked to a place where he could catch more rain drops.
Kelvin stood alone and naked in the rain as the cold rainwater flushed over him. “Nearly there.” He said. “Nearly there.”
57
Kelvin arched his back and rubbed his face.
He was stiff from sleeping in the cold and his eyes burned. Thist and Kelvin had been restless all night but Jem had slept like the dead of the dead.
It was early dawn and Thist had suggested that they rise early to help Jem prepare his shots for the day. Kelvin had obliged but as he raised his head from his bed roll he saw Thist hard at work moving a boulder.
Kelvin walked over to Thist to lend him assistance. “Why didn’t you wake me?” said Kelvin.
“I tried,” said Thist, “but you were like…” Thist made a face like a squashed fish.
The meaning of Thist’s vernacular was lost on Kelvin. “May I help you with something?”
“Yes” said Thist. “You can help me make a ball out of stinging nettles.”
Kelvin rubbed his chin as he pondered the prospect of touching stinging nettles. “I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.” said Kelvin.
“I do mind.” said Thist. “Can you think of anything worse than having a flaming ball of stinging nettles land in the middle of your castle?”
“Yes.” said Kelvin. “I imagine that making a ball out of stinging nettles is worse.”
“We don’t have time for this.” said Thist.
Jem rubbed his eyes as he staggered over. “What are you idiots bickering about?”
Thist pointed at Kelvin, “Bow-boy over here asked me what he can help me with. I said he can help me to make a ball out of stinging nettles.”
Jem looked at Kelvin. He looked stricken with illness. “Are you coming down with something?” asked Jem.
“Nothing.” said Kelvin. “I’m just tired.”
“It’s okay Thist.” said Jem. “I will make a nettle ball for you. When do you want me to fire it?”
Thist scrutinized Kelvin for a second. “Fire it as soon as I get to my position.”
Jem rubbed his face. “I won’t see you when you are in position but it will take me longer to make it than it will take you to get there.” said Jem.
“Fine.” said Thist. “Fire it as soon as it is ready.”
“Thanks Jem.” said Kelvin. “One nettle in my eye and I’m out, at least your leviathan is already aimed.”
As Kelvin and Thist left, Jem devised a cunning plan to make a stinging nettle ball without touching a single nettle. He took a long piece of rope and folded it in half. Then he walked the long loop of rope over ten nettle bushes so that they would snag on the rope. He twisted the rope twice after each nettle bush to make a chain. Once had caught the tenth one he simple twisted the rope over and over until the rope scrunched itself up into a ball. A quick loop with a spare lanyard and the ball was secure.
58
Thist held his composure.
The captain of the guard had come through the castle gate to exchange threats with Thist. “You have the audacity to come here and demand something that you cannot have.” shouted the guard captain. “And then you attack us! What is your kind doing in this part anyway?”
“You have what we are looking for.” said Thist. “We have come to collect it.”
The guard captain put his hand on the hilt of his sword and drew it out. “Where is your army?” He demanded.
Thist unclipped his whip and lashed the sword free of the guard’s hand. The guard howled in pain as the whip tore open his hand. He stepped back and said. “My master’s master says that you can have the bridge when you pry it free from her cold dead fingers.”
Thist frowned. “Her?”
The guard scrutinized Thist from a safe distance as he held his wounded hand. “You don’t even know who you are fighting, do you?”
“Does it matter?” asked Thist. “I’m here for the soul bridge.”
“You are out of your depth.” said the guard. “Go back home and my master’s master will spare your life.”
Thist giggled. “No, you tell your master’s master that ‘she’ can give me the soul bridge and I will spare ‘her’ life.”
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nbsp; The captain turned around and walked back to the castle gate. Thist stood and watched him go all the way. When the guards were through the gate Thist lit a torch and held it above his head for a moment. Then he let it down slowly and extinguished it. Jem couldn’t see the signal but the residents in the castle didn’t know that. Kelvin wiped his eyes. He knew that he had to act upon the signal but he was compromised. He raised his bow and drew the string half taught and waited. His strength was wavering. “Come on Jem, where is your shot?”
Kelvin clenched his teeth as he held his stance. Finally the shot from Jem’s trebuchet tore through the air with another deafening clap. This time it was the ball of stinging nettles. Kelvin loosed his arrow which streaked far ahead of the nettle ball, as it approached the collision point in midair. The arrow burst into flames and crashed into the ball of nettles. The flaming shot disappeared beyond the castle keep walls with a long trail of smoke.
Kelvin dropped his bow and looked at his trembling arms. A feeling of deep anguish rushed over him. “No...! Not this…!” wept Kelvin “…anything but this…!”
He wiped his eyes again with trembling hands as the tears of acid streamed down his cheeks. At first he was in denial but he knew what was happening to him. He had seen the affliction before and once it started it could not be stopped or cured. The affliction started with aches and pains and then it would ravage his body rendering it ugly and useless. He had seen it manifest in his loved ones before but he had never seen it spread so fast. The only thing that could give scant relief was freshly falling rain water. Kelvin fumbled to retrieve his bow but only for a moment. He realized that he would never draw a bead with it again and abandoned it. He dropped his travel bag and rummaged through it for his medicine pouch. He abandoned his pack, only clutching his small medicine pouch and hobbled away to find shelter from the damning sun.