Chapter 3 - part 1

Kælon crept silently through the eastern Tulien forest, a day’s journey from his home in Althien. His brown hair and green clothes helped him blend in with the forest. His blue eyes held fast, fixed on his target in the distance. Sitting quietly in an oversized shrub, Kælon stared at the large brown stag, about 80 meters ahead, who would make an excellent meal for his family. It’s large antlers marked its location, even when its skin threatened to melt into the background. A deer that size would require a lot of work to get back to town, but it contained enough meat to last them for a few months. In the coming winter, having enough meat to survive became a necessity.

Kælon thought he tasted the meat for a moment before realizing he had instead tasted the familiar flavor of adrenaline on his tongue as he slowly moved his bow into position. Move a little closer…. Kælon thought. Forgetting everything else around him, he focused on the stag; it was a dance between his speed and the stag whose ever-ready gaze held alert as he ate. The bow now pulsed with his blood. Kælon drew and released the arrow with one swift motion, but his back elbow was thrown from its practiced course by an aggressive tap from a metal staff.

Kælon watched the deer run and saw the arrow shatter into the tree just behind the deer’s neck, then he turned to see his brown haired friend fall to the ground in laughter. Kælon smirked at the jovial nature of his closest friend as he extended a hand to help him up.

“Was there a reason for doing that or are you just cross that you can’t sneak up on anything?” Kælon, slightly irked at the thought of spending another entire day searching and tracking a beast to slay, asked. His height was as average as his build. His smile betrayed his serious voice to his friend, however.

“I snuck up on you.” Renzoku retorted before laughing again. “Besides, we just got up here yesterday. If you’d killed that stag then we’d have to return tomorrow. If you do the math, that’s two days of travel for only one day of being here.”

“Remind me why I brought you.” Kælon said as he lowered his head, in an attempt to mask his amusement, and began to walk.

“No, there’s a point to what I’m saying.” Renzoku insisted. His stature was comparatively larger than that of Kælon. His uncontrollably curly, light-brown hair matched his slightly odd and carefree personality. “I found a waterfall we’ve never jumped off of before.” His smile returned at the thought of the fun to be had.

“It’s a good thing you weren’t born during a time of war,” Kælon teased. “You would never have been able to take orders, you’d always find something better to do.”

“The oppression of the Korgar and their puppet king is almost worse.” Renzoku sped up a little to take the lead. “But what is there to fear, they say the son of Huor shall return soon to throw King Garlon off the throne and oppose the dominion of the Korgar.” Renzoku smiled in sarcasm.

“Perhaps he’ll be a better fighter than his old man, Turgon the great, who was killed by the Korgar.” Kælon looked pointedly at Renzoku while walking, “Then again, maybe he just shouldn’t take traitors into battle.” Kælon drew his iron short sword and turned it upon Renzoku who countered with his 6-foot tall metal stave. Neither weapon was heavily decorated, nor did either man act highly proficient either.

“He’ll have to be a better fighter than you, or at least wear some armor. I guess it’s a good thing you weren’t born in a time of war either.” Renzoku pulled back his staff and laughed.

“You think I’m a poor fighter, do you?” Kælon sheathed his sword and plowed Renzoku into a tree. The latter dropped his staff in surprise, but quickly took the offensive and grappled Kælon to the ground. Renzoku threw his fist into Kælon’s side, but that only brought retaliation. It was only a few minutes before the two sat on the side of the grassy knoll panting and examining their new bruises.

The deep green of the forest melted into black in the areas the sun had already left. A refreshing breeze blew across the faces of the two and carried through the grass. A wild dance took place for only seconds among the weeds and flowers as they responded to the wind. The sound of rushing hooves rode on the wind toward the ears of the youths.

“Sounds like the king’s men are hunting.” Kælon remarked quite apathetic.

“Maybe they’ll be entranced by fairies and never return.” Renzoku quickly added.

“I’d like to meet a fairy.” Kælon commented beginning to dream, “Maybe then I’d get to have an adventure instead of living this sorry excuse for an existence.”

“Don’t forget, the only adventure a fairy will take you on exists only in your dreams. You’ll wind up lost and alone on the end of a fairy hoax.” Renzoku retorted.

“Aye.” Kælon quickly brushed the comment aside. “Let’s get the horses and get to bed. Seems we have an unexpected date with a waterfall tomorrow.”

The trees of Tulien forest blocked much of the direct sunlight, even during the brightest times of day. The light that does enter plays off the leaves and foliage in the forest making them seem all shades of green. Kælon considered himself an expert dreamer, so he laid down as soon as they had set up the camp and watched the light in the trees. His eyes focused on the beautiful orchestra playing above his head and remembered the stories that his mother had told him. At times the fairies blessed the traveler, but other times they simply made sport out of confusing humans who were so thoughtless to begin with. At the end of every story, his mother warned, “Never cross a fairy.” “The wrath of a fairy will be a curse on your head for years.”

Kælon nodded to whatever fairies might be around; seeing that the heather on the ground would well enough provide cover for them not to be seen. He wondered, as he often did, what fairies even looked like. He never doubted their existence, for too many stories had come through their village for fairies to be just tales, but he knew almost nothing about them. He laughed at the thought that at that moment, he could have been surrounded by a council of fairy elders and not have known.

There’s something about a bed in the wild, sleeping with the grass as a mat and the stars as a blanket that refreshes a man more than his own bed. Kælon gave into the deep sleep to be found at the base of a small hill. Renzoku was so excited about the next morning that he could hardly fall asleep. He kept shifting and re-shifting just a few feet further from the hill than Kælon slept. Finally he fell into a deep sleep, tangled in the few blankets he had wrapped himself in.

The next morning came quickly, and Kælon awoke with the sun and began packing his two blankets and arraying himself with the few armaments he owned. “Ready for some fun?” He asked Renzoku who had just been awoken by a stray ray of sunlight in his face.

“Fun? Can’t we wait until later? Maybe when the sun gets up too?” Renzoku moaned as he covered his face. “What’s for breakfast anyway?”

“Well,” Kælon said with a hint of knowing sarcasm, “We can eat salted beef, berries... or there are enough fish and rabbit to catch a few easily.”

“Rabbit?” Renzoku’s head popped up out from behind the covers. “Why don’t we come hunting more often?” He quickly shoved his blankets in the horse’s side bag and found his bow and quiver without a second thought.

Twenty minutes later, the two had found what seemed to be a rabbit highway. Tracks ran several directions from where they stood. Renzoku followed a path toward the stream, taking the horse with him, but Kælon spotted a rabbit heading further into the hills. Eager to surpass Renzoku in his hunting skill, Kælon quickly took off after the prey with as little sound as possible. He never stopped to look back at his friend.

Kælon  followed the rabbit tracks into an area densely covered by brush and heather. Movement from the right caught his eye, so Kælon gripped an arrow in his left hand and knocked two in the bow. A grouping of nearly a dozen rabbits sat before Kælon in a little glen, sadly a little too alert from his approach. It’ll only take two to feed us; maybe three with Renzoku’s appetite. Kælon smiled to himself. Keep steady.

The arrows flew, and the rabbit scattered. As Kælon had expected, he didn’t have a chance to even take aim with the third arrow before the group had scattered. Two rabbits lay on the ground with arrows cleanly through their hide. One still moved and whined as though it could get away. Disappointed at the fact the arrow hadn’t killed his quarry, he quickly moved to it and snapped its neck with his gloved hand. Kælon had always despised it when an animal lived after being hit with an arrow. Kælon thought back to his first hunting trip when his father caught a rabbit in the hind legs and made Kælon watch as the creature suffered for several minutes. The entire time, Tulkas, Kælon’s father, asked him to imagine the pain and suffering the animal was enduring. Ever since then, Kælon cringed at the first whine of an animal and vowed to never make one suffer more than necessary.

Kælon tied both rabbits to a stick upside down with their necks slit so they would bleed properly while he cleaned and checked his arrows. The ground was soft enough that both arrows could be used again. He decided to head down to the lake and see what Renzoku had been up to for the last half hour. After his victory, Kælon was sorry he had left his friend. Victory never tasted as sweet alone as it did with friends around. I wonder what Renzoku’s up to, anyway. Kælon thought for a moment. Likely fishing he laughed to himself.

I wonder what they are searching for. Kælon thought, a bit concerned, as he listened to the sound of the hoof beats just a mile or less below him. They must be near the camp we set up last night. I’m sure they won’t be mad we used the grass to sleep on. Kælon knew that the king was never a man known for being generous. King Garlon had been known for executing hunters simply because they had been in the forest at the same time as him. Kælon always knew how to stay away, and since the king only came here to hunt, there was little likelihood they’d accidentally stumble on each other if he stayed careful. Still, Kælon wondered if it wouldn’t be better to find a different section of the forest to hunt in. Garlon had been known to do terrible things if he was in a bad mood. He’d probably take his own mother to court if he thought he could get something out of it. Kælon’s breathing stopped when he realized the horses were nearing his position. Time to find Renzoku and get out of here quickly. Kælon examined his surroundings as he realized the horses were heading straight toward this area. If he ran, it might attract their attention. Kælon put the rabbits on the ground and took cover in the crevice of a fallen tree, to wait the passing of the horses below him.

It took less than a minute before the soldiers passed; they were men wearing light armor. About twenty of them carried spears, the rest only held their swords and shields. Kælon couldn’t tell how many had bows on their horses, but clearly not enough for this to be a hunting party. The black-stained metal of the armor immediately told Kælon that these men were not the king’s hunting party, as he’s feared. The flag carried by a soldier near the front worried Kælon more than anything else. The guard of the Korgar? He wondered What would they be doing all the way out here?

The flag portrayed a golden dragon rising out of the sea on a black background. One of its feet stood on the land, and its hands grasped a star. It was a sign of complete dominion, Kælon had been told for most of his life. The Korgar weren’t satisfied with controlling the kingdom and all trade routes, they also wanted the stars. When a herald read their proclamation, it always began, “From those who control the land, the seas, and the heavens…”

Kælon had been so focused on the guards in front of him that he hadn’t noticed one approaching his flank with sword and shield ready. “Stand.” The guard commanded.

Kælon grasped the stick holding the rabbits and stood. He eyed the bow he had laid on the ground and felt the sword in its scabbard on his leg.

“Are you Kælon Baer?” The soldier asked with the authority of one not accustomed to defiance.

“I guess it depends on why you want to know.” Kælon responded hesitantly. Those who met the guard of the Korgar were often taken for some reason or another. Of those taken, none returned. Of those not taken… Kælon preferred not to think about the scenes which had been described to him of men flayed and set upon a pole to die in the sun, or the villages burned and raped for the amusement of these men.

“You are under arrest by order of his royal majesty and the lords of the land. Come willingly or by force, but you will come.” The man kept a firm grip on his sword.

“I guess it would be unwise of me to run and even more stupid to fight.” Kælon surveyed the land around him. This was the only soldier in sight. “Okay, there’s no choice left to me. Where are we going?” Kælon placed the stick in his right hand and raised both slightly above his head.

“That’s of no concern to yours.” The soldier sheathed his weapon and came toward Kælon to bind him, but as soon as the soldier’s hands were engaged with rope, Kælon slammed one end of the stick into the eye of the soldier. He cried out in pain, and the entire company below looked up to see Kælon fleeing. A dense area in the forest, likely impassible by horses, lay directly in Kælon’s path. He only needed to outrun the horses for a few dozen meters, then he would be safe from their horses. Kælon heard the sounds closing in behind him, but he was sure he’d make it before the could get completely to him. As Kælon came within 10 meters of the denser section of forest, an arrow found it’s mark in his calf. Kælon fell to the ground.

When the first ride came to him, Kælon grabbed the shaft of his spear, just above the head; he yanked the man off of his horse and stabbed him through the opening of his visor with a newly drawn sword. Kælon couldn’t remember drawing it, but he felt committed to defending himself at this point, although he knew he would likely suffer worse for it. Before another second had passed, the company of spears that were raining in upon his head overwhelmed Kælon. He fell to the ground and received a continued beating by wooden shafts there.

Renzoku came to the scene just in time to see his friend overwhelmed. A bone jutted out of Kælon’s forearm, yet the guards continued the beating. Kælon screamed a few times then ceased. Renzoku hoped Kælon had passed out and wouldn’t need to continue feeling the pain. Knowing that he would be less good to Kælon bound beside him, he stayed hidden. The sight of his bleeding and bruised friend as they stripped him naked and tied him to the back of a horse turned to loathing in his stomach: loathing for having come too late. It would be difficult for the two of them to try attacking the thirty or forty guards, but maybe he could have helped his friend. However, with Kælon incapacitated and an arrow in his calf, Renzoku knew that any attempt to help would be useless.

Thoughts of all else abandoned, Renzoku ran down to where he had left the horse and mounted up. It was usually about a day’s walk to Althein, but riding at full speed he would likely make it just after the lunch hour if his horse could keep up the pace. The elders must know what to do, even if everyone is scared of the Korgar, Renzoku thought. He sped through the clearing and emerged from the southern edge of the forest heading southwest toward Althein.