Ahren- the 13th Paladin

by Torsten Weitze

  ‘A start’, commented Falk stoically in the background, and Ahren laughed even harder.

  The pair squatted down on Ahren’s mat and spent the evening telling each other what had happened over the previous months. Likis rhapsodized about his work in the shop and the merchants from Two Waters who delivered merchandize to them and also brought the latest news from all over Hjalgar. Apparently a band of robbers had settled in the slopes of Greyjags and were holding up travellers. Quite a few mutilated wolf and bear carcasses had been found. When Ahren heard this, he looked up to his master and was about to speak. But Falk gave him a warning look and shook his head and so the boy said nothing.

  The night was drawing in and there was no sign of the boys finishing their conversation so Falk cleared his throat noisily and said, ‘Likis, it’s not that we’re not delighted about your visit, but you really need to be making your way home now’.

  The wiry boy leapt to his feet and clapped his hand against his forehead.

  ‘Of course, I nearly forgot. I’m here in the name of my parents to invite you to a meal on the eve of the Autumn Festival’.

  Ahren was a little surprised. ‘Is it that time again?’ As he no longer took part in the daily life of the village, he had no idea what date the village council had set for the Autumn Festival.

  ‘Yes, two weeks from today. Vera has forecast an early and hard winter.’ The Healer had a sixth sense for the pulse of nature. In one of her lessons she had explained to Ahren that there were many clues for the upcoming weather in the behaviour of plants and the clouds. Falk said the same was true for the animals, but when he had looked for more information, Falk had stalled him with a shake of his head.

  ‘You’re not even 6 months with me out here. Ask me in five years again’, was his sobering reply.

  ‘That’s why I came here today, to invite you’, said Likis cheerfully. ‘And, are you coming?’ he looked expectantly from one to the other. Ahren looked pleadingly at his master. It was traditional on the eve of the three day Autumn Festival to invite friends and family to take part in a relaxing, peaceful meal before the hurly-burly and excitement of the Autumn Festival. It was considered rude to turn down such an invitation.

  But Falk was neither particularly diplomatic nor sociable, so you never knew.

  Ahren need not have feared. Falk nodded and grunted, ‘Tell your parents thanks and we will come. And now get out of here or my apprentice will be unbearable tomorrow for want of sleep’.

  The two boys grinned at each other in anticipation of another evening full of each other’s stories, not to mention the good food. Now that his friend was going, Ahren realized how cut off he was out here, and how much he missed his chirpy companion.

  ‘Take care of yourself’, he said sadly.

  ‘It’s only two weeks’, said Likis in a comforting tone and gave him a quick hug. Then he gave Falk a wave and disappeared out the door.

  Ahren went to the window and watched his sprightly friend until he was soon swallowed up by the night. Falk’s cabin was on the outer edge of Deepstone but tonight the apprentice felt that the entire wood separated it from the village community. With a sigh he went to his sleeping area and curled up under the covers.

  Falk worked on at the leathers for another few minutes, then tilted his head as if listening to someone and after a few heartbeats nodded. ‘You’re right’.

  He put down his tools and clothing, looked again at the outline of the sleeping boy and went out into the forest.

  Chapter 7

  The next two weeks couldn’t go quickly enough for Ahren. Falk noticed Ahren’s impatience and upped the practice tempo considerably in order to distract his apprentice. The practice ball was constantly flying here and there between them. His master would deliberately throw it off course forcing Ahren to hop, duck, dive, or throw himself around abruptly so that he could catch the wretched thing in mid-flight. And he was picking out more difficult terrain. They had to creep through undergrowth, clamber over fallen trees and climb up and down steep slopes.

  Ahren was shattered every evening, such as he hadn’t been since the early days of his training. But with his new found knowledge in the herbal arts he was able to help himself and body prepare for the following day. Soothing compresses, healing teas and strengthening condiments did the trick.

  Falk never commented on this but Selsena could sense the master’s pride, bright as a beacon in the dead of night. She often stood there in the darkness and kept watch over them both. Something old and dark had come into the forest again and soon blood would flow. She was determined to buy them as much time as she could.

  At the last the eve of the Autumn Festival was upon them and even the Forest Guardians were caught up in the village preparations for the coming festivities. Falk had gone hunting and, unusually, left Ahren alone in the cabin so that he could learn from the old book of herbs Vera had given him. It was true that the boy couldn’t read but with the help of the pictures he could go ever what he had learned.

  But Ahren had other plans today. His master was hardly out of sight, when he raced off towards Vera’s cabin. The old woman would be far too busy for him but that didn’t matter. It was what was waiting for him behind her house that was important. He carefully made his way through the undergrowth to the back wall of the cabin. Yes, lying neatly there for him were a dozen boards and two thick ropes. During his last lesson with the herbalist he had made sure that a message requesting these things had been delivered to Master Velem.

  The Autumn Festival was also the time when all villagers became a year older officially and so everyone gave each other presents and wished each other another a healthy winter so that they could experience the next summer.

  Ahren was determined to make his master a present. The old man was a slave driver, a curmudgeon and sometimes a man-made thunderstorm, but in spite of all that he had saved him from a bleak future and was investing a lot of time and effort in Ahren’s education. The problem was giving him a present that he would like. His master lived very frugally. The present would have to be practical and of everyday use.

  Ahren gathered together the items and could hear lively chatter and laughter coming from within and in front of the cabin. Half the village seemed to have gathered here in order to honour the old woman and to collect herbs and spices for the feast dishes or to get tips on how to prepare them. Suddenly the remoteness in which he and his master lived didn’t seem so bad and with a grin and a shake of his head he started heading back to their cabin.

  The trees had started shedding their leaves in the previous few days and a cold wind was spinning a red and gold kaleidoscope among the trunks. A few birds were stubbornly holding on to their memories of summer and whistling their defiance to the world at large. The boards were heavy and the ropes cumbersome but Ahren was now in top condition and it didn’t take long before the cabin was in sight.

  He checked quickly that Falk was still out, carried the paraphernalia into the house and began putting it together. He had worked everything out already in his head so the construction wouldn’t take long if he could manage the Elfish knots. The same sort he had tackled with his teeth for two months on the ribbon tree. It had transpired that the blue ribbons that had comprehensively got the better of him on that first day had been knotted in the Elfish manner and were extraordinarily difficult to unknot, especially with one hand. The one positive from his months of frustration was that he had now mastered these knots perfectly. It took him less than an hour to tie the beams and planks together into two platforms, one above the other and supported by struts. Then he placed the sleeping mats, his own and his master’s on the two platforms and his simple bunk beds were finished. There really wasn’t enough room for two sleeping areas in the cabin and so he thought this was a really practical present made with the simplest of materials. The only flaw was that he had to ask Vera for the materials.

  But she simply smiled and said, ‘this is my autumn present to yourself and Falk’.

/>   Ahren spent the rest of the day sprucing up the cabin, polishing his leather gear and looking forward to the evening. Every now and again he ran to the window so he could catch his master at the door. When Falk appeared at last coming from the trees with an enormous stag on his shoulders Ahren ran towards him to help him with his load.

  ‘Thanks, son’, gasped the Guardian. ‘He’s a big morsel, and I had to drag him further than I would have liked. Something was frightening the animals and hunting was a lot harder than usual’.

  They put the booty down in front of the window and Ahren stood so his master couldn’t see inside. His hands were sweaty with anticipation and he was surprised at how much he wanted to cheer up this grumpy old man. He must have become fonder of his master than he cared to admit.

  Falk entered the room and Ahren called out, ‘a healthy winter and a merry new summer’, the traditional greeting when you handed over an autumn present.

  His mentor stood there and stared critically at the wooden construction for a few heartbeats. Then he walked up to it and examined the knots carefully, tilting his head all the while as if listening to something. Then he turned around and said, ‘that’s a very good present and I’m very proud of you’. He sounded a little stilted as if somebody had fed him the lines. But Ahren knew that this wasn’t his strong point and anyway he was far too happy to take any notice. Falk turned to the wooden bed and said, ‘you sleep on top because your young bones could do with a bit of climbing’. After a few seconds he continued with a grumble, ‘If I’m lying there and the thing collapses, you’re going to spend the next two weeks climbing the ribbon tree…and you’ll sleep on it’.

  Well, that didn’t last long, thought Ahren but answered with a smile, ‘yes, master’.

  The wooden bed had held together, much to Ahren’s relief, and so now he sat with a full stomach beside Likis in his parents’ sitting room and enjoyed the happy, unforced conversation with his friend. Two dozen candles were situated around the room, filling the space with a warm glow, and the candle scents intermingled with the aromas from the opulent feast that they had all had just finished eating.

  The adults were talking about some feudal lord in the Knight Marshes who had been trying to claim a small border area of Hjalgar for himself. They were so deep in conversation that the two boys were completely undisturbed. They glanced at the large sand timer on the mantelpiece from time to time. The autumn presents were traditionally handed over during the night before the Autumn Festival, and that’s why there were these enormous sand glasses which were turned over just before dusk. Once the sand had run through a few hours later it was time to thank the Three for another year lived, and it was also time for the presents.

  At one point in their conversation, Likis became very serious and whispered to Ahren, ‘are you happy out there, alone with that curmudgeon. I sometimes ask myself if you’ve just jumped from the frying pan into the fire. We heard nothing from you for ages but Vera assured us you were fine so we didn’t interfere’. Likis gave Ahren a questioning look but his friend gave him a reassuring smile.

  ‘There’s nowhere else on earth I’d rather be’. And he added in a whisper, ‘I’ve even mastered a few tricks of the Elfish trade’.

  His master had expressly forbidden him from mentioning this as he didn’t want the rumour-mill to go into overdrive, but he really had to tell his best friend.

  He squeaked in surprise, ‘elves?’. And the look Falk shot his apprentice suggested an awkward conversation later.

  Ahren quickly steered the conversation into safer waters and asked what Holken, Sven and the others were up to. He’d probably run across them during the Autumn Festival and he wanted to forewarned if there was anything in the air concerning the village boys. And so he discovered that Holken had transformed himself and was now a model youth under the bailiff and was getting lots of praise heaped on him. Sven, on the other hand, had somehow managed to take over control of the boys and their pranks were getting meaner and more dangerous.

  ‘There was even a fire in the old barn last week but no-one could tell who caused it. A horse was killed and the matter hasn’t been closed.I think Sven and the other good for nothings were behind it but I’ve no proof so I’m going to stay mum’, said Likis, finishing the conversation. The two boys were silent for a while until they noticed the adults stirring. One look at the sand clock and they everyone was on their feet.

  The sand had run through and Velem and Falk stepped through the door into the antechamber only to return shortly afterwards with a heavy bundle each. Ahren felt a thrill of anticipation as he watched Likis unpack a blue velvet cap with yellow braiding and then joyfully thank his parents. This status symbol showed that he could now make small transactions on his own in the name of his merchant’s house, something which made him burst with pride. He put the present on his head and turned to face Ahren, who had to control himself in order not to guffaw. The thing looked completely ridiculous. You’d be spotted two miles away in the forest. Ahren realized that Falk’s personality was beginning to rub off on him.

  He beamed for a second at his friend to show how much he was there for him today, then hurriedly stood up straight and faced his master. Without saying a word Falk presented him with a long bundle wrapped in oilcloth. Ahren pushed the heavy material aside with trembling fingers and a slender curved bow appeared along with a buckskin quiver containing a half dozen arrows. The boy whooped for joy and would have thrown himself at Falk were it not for the stern look and the warning furrowed eyebrows of his master.

  ‘You’ve made excellent progress until now so it’s time for us to teach you the basic skills in shooting with arrows, hunting and stalking’ At which point he brought down one of his calloused hands on Ahren’s shoulder so heavily that the boy balked. ‘The bow will only be used in my presence and with my express permission. Or it will be turned into firewood’. Ahren nodded and stroked the smooth wood with his fingers. It was shining in the candlelight and you could see how carefully the surface had been polished. A faint, undulating pattern ran the length of the bow, disappearing behind the handguard, only to reappear on the other side. ‘That’s the Elfish sign for the apprentice bow’, whispered Falk before placing a conspiratorial finger on his lips.

  The boys spent the rest of the evening mostly just looking in silence at their presents until the lateness of the hour brought proceedings to a close. They promised to meet each other at one of the tables on the festival square and Ahren and Falk stepped out into the night air. The wind had calmed down and it was cold but clear. The waxing moon was in the sky and a few wisps of cloud were visible, drifting by. The forest was bathed in pale moonlight, giving a hint of the varied colours playing off each other in the fabulous autumn landscape. Ahren glanced quickly at the squat house of his father but there was no light to be seen. Then with a shiver he followed his master, who was taking the direct route through the forest to their cabin.

  When they reached half way, Falk stopped, stared into the darkness of the forest and said in a loud voice, ‘a healthy winter and a merry summer’. Then he tilted his head sideways for a moment, smiled and went on. Ahren asked himself if this was perhaps an Elfish tradition or if Falk wanted to pay his respects to the forest. He had also heard that old men could become strange in their ways. He shrugged his shoulders and trotted behind, hoping he would learn all the important things from Falk before he became too strange.

  The following morning Falk was awakened by the clattering of wooden bowls and the smells of a herbal stew. He opened his eyes a tiny bit and smiled under his blanket as he secretly watched his apprentice preparing everything for breakfast. The rucksack had already been packed, Ahren was fully dressed, his bow and quiver standing by the door. He’d intended stringing the boy along for another while, after all it was another hour until sunrise, but Selsena gave him a mental nudge and so he opened his eyes and swung his legs out of the bed.

  ‘Good morning, Ahren. You can hardly wait, as I can see’.


  The young boy glanced guiltily at the bow beside the door but then he pulled back his shoulders and said, ‘If we’re going to the Autumn Festival this afternoon, we just have a couple of hours to practise. I wanted to get everything ready here so we could head off as soon as possible’.

  Falk was afraid that Ahren would choke on his breakfast, he was gulping it down so quickly. In the end the old man gave up, pushed his half eaten bowl to the side and said, ‘Alright then. Tidy up here, I’ll get ready quickly and then we’ll be off’.

  Soon they were trudging in the early morning light and Falk picked out a clearing that was far enough from the village so there would be no fear of accidents. Then he began teaching his protégé how to handle a bow and arrow and the ground rules of archery.

  Ahren devoted himself to the job in hand with full concentration and what Falk had suspected that time on the village square was now becoming crystal clear. The boy really had a natural talent with the bow. First Falk pointed out the most common beginner’s mistakes but within an hour he was hitting a tree trunk four out of five times from twenty paces’ distance. It was thirty paces by noon, and by the time the old man suggested stopping, Ahren was in sparkling form. His arms and chest had strengthened considerably due to the climbing of the previous months, so tensioning the bow was effortless. His muscles were aching now but he felt he could go on for hours.

  He asked cockily, ‘master, may I give your bow a try?’

  Falk thought for a moment. ‘Why not, nothing would surprise me today’. He handed Ahren his bow, which was considerably higher than the boy’s head, and one of his long arrows. His apprentice struggled mightily until eventually, with trembling arms, he managed to extend the bow about half way. But his arms were too short and when he was finally forced to let the arrow fly from the bow string, it flew uncontrolled and awry off into the trees.