Chapter Five – The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep by Kelly D. Tolman

Posted by admin on October 27, 2008

The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep is a fantasy novel describing the adventures of Colter Halfspear as he becomes a man and an initiate of magical powers.

My mother found me there sitting on the stone, knees curled up to my chest, but no longer crying. She looked beautiful to me then, more like the woman my father must have married. The gray seemed to have gone from her hair, and there was lightness to her step such as I had not seen in a long time. I also saw deep sadness. “Now you know why I kept so much from you,” she said. “We all hoped that the curse would not pass to you.”

I nodded. She hugged me, and I hugged her back, and together we walked back to the inn.

Deltra, the village seeress was just leaving the inn as we entered. She looked older than the trees in the forest, but her grip felt firm when she grabbed me. She peered into my eyes in that way that mad old women do to young boys when they’ve something important to say. But she didn’t say anything. Instead she released the grip and pulled me into a soft compassionate hug. Amid the smell of dried herbs and old clothes I felt great tenderness.

“You’ve raised a good son, Lelda, he has his father’s strength,” said Deltra.

“I’ve done what any mother would,” answered mamma.

“I’ve seen others do less. Watch the wolves in the council. Trakkin hasn’t forgotten that you chose Kyven,” said Deltra.

“I don’t imagine that he’s happy I’ve chosen Harrim this time, either.” Mamma smiled and Deltra chuckled.

“He doesn’t know yet. He’s a brute, but his daughter has a kind heart and his son is a good worker. There is hope for them,” said Deltra. “Go on inside, lad.” She pushed me through the door to the back dining room.

Farmer Trakkin sat next to Harrim, idly toying with a goblet of wine. Across the table Lyekal’s father, Master Handor frowned and contemplated the ceiling. His wrinkled brow and graying hairs reflected the general ill humor of the room. Master Tintelbar looked kindly as I approached. He always seemed patient with his children, and I knew he had given my mother food and supplies during the past winter without asking payment. I did not often speak to Rilpost, the miller. His children had grown and moved to Kerby, though I heard he was a fair man to trade with.

“Sit down, lad,” invited Harrim. “You know why you’re here.”

I sank into a solid chair that suddenly felt larger than the room. The thick table was bare except for their goblets and a mostly empty bottle of wine. The fire felt suddenly very warm. I placed my hands on the table to keep them from moving.

“You know of your father’s curse, then?” asked Trakkin.

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

“Then you’ll be off in the morning,” he said.

“Gently,” warned the smith. “You’d not be sending your own lad off so easily.”

“Nor without accounting for his property,” said Harrim.

“What property?” asked Trakkin. “He owns nothing that I know of, not that the farm is worth anything.”

“You’ve offered a tidy sum more than once for such a worthless piece of land,” said Rilpost with a laugh. “Kyven always got the best of every deal.” The miller winked at Trakkin, and the farmer’s face flamed red.

“Be that as it may, the land is his mother’s,” said Trakkin.

“No,” said Harrim. “Lelda became engaged to marry today, so the property either passes to her new husband, or to her son, if we agree that he’s of an age to own it.”

“He’s not of age,” said the smith. Even I could see that he thought of his own son as he spoke.

“Who’s the man?” asked Trakkin. “How do we know he’s fit?”

“Any man she chooses over you would be fit,” said Rilpost. “Lelda always made up her own mind. You seem to forget you once admired that in her.”

“I’m fit,” said Harrim. “As Rilpost said, Lelda makes up her own mind. You’re not the only one that asked her before Kyven came back.” Harrim appeared at the edge of anger, but he relaxed and took a breath. “I say he’s of age now. He’s been managing the place since Kyven died.”

“He’s a whelp,” said Trakkin.

“My vote’s against yours, because tonight I don’t like you,” replied the miller. “Let Tintelbar decide.”

“He’s younger than normal,” said the storekeeper. “If he’s old enough to go into the world then he’s old enough to inherit, and man enough to deserve it. He’s of age.”

“I’ll help you settle the business side of it,” said Harrim.

“And line your own pockets in the process,” said Trakkin.

“Any other day and I’d call on my right as a free man to make you defend those words with a blade,” said Harrim. “Tintelbar will witness the contracts just as he always does. I see no profit in this. Kyven Halfspear deserves better than to have his only son sent packing by a lot of cowards. I’ve never been ashamed of anything I did before.”

“Nor I,” said Handor. “Were it not for Deltra I would say we are in the wrong.”

“Halfspear brought his own curse with him, and he can keep it. This is the justice of the gods, not our choosing,” said Trakkin. “You leave in the morning, boy.”

“Where?” I asked. My voice felt small.

“Anyplace you like so long as its elsewhere,” replied Trakkin.

Harrim scowled and his fist doubled on the table. “That captain is looking for men,” suggested Handor. “My own Lyekal wanted to join up. I’m sure he’ll take him.”

“The cloth merchants need a driver,” said Tintelbar. “They mentioned it earlier. Though I don’t know how far they are going or how long they would keep him.”

“It’s your choice, Colter,” said Harrim. “We’ll see you properly on your way.”

“I’ll see the captain in the morning,” I answered.

“I think we can round up Kyven’s old gear,” said Handor. “I believe his old sword is hanging in your shop. His armor is in a trunk at home.”

“Be here at dawn,” said Harrim. “You’d best donate something as well, Trakkin, or I’ll see to it all water to your place is cut off before the end of summer.”

My mother showed me to a bed where I fell quickly to sleep. I tossed and turned until the first workers began moving in the streets before sunrise. I pulled on my father’s boots and joined my mother in the kitchen.

“You best eat a good breakfast.” She passed me a bowl of eggs and a chunk of bread. “You’ll have a busy morning after you talk to the captain. I’ll put a few things together for you. I found your father’s old pack that he found in the north. Now go and find Harrim.”

Alongside Harrim I must have seemed no more than a bit of a twig. Harrim was polite as usual, but came quickly to his point.

“We’ve found a recruit for you, Captain,” Harrim said.

The captain raised a brow and cracked a half smile. “I’ve seen a dozen able bodied men since I came here,” he replied. “I’m glad to see at least one volunteer. I would hate to come back and press for conscripts.” The captain was a tall, lean man with thick black hair. His tall riding boots were polished. His belt was well oiled, his scabbard spotless. At his side hung a longsword, and a dagger was thrust in his belt. A thick scar ran across one cheek, and the top of his left ear was missing.

“We have all served our emperor,” replied Harrim curtly. “I myself have born a spear in battle.”

“Pray you don’t have to again.” The captain menaced. “Now, who is this recruit?”

“None other than the son of the great Kyven Halfspear.” Harrim beamed proudly. “Here he is. Stand up straight boy.”

I stood straight, but I knew I was somehow failing inspection. There wasn’t much I could do. So I resolved to wait.

Harrim was an excellent haggler. “Show him your scars, lad, go on.” I obeyed. “See, he’s a good lad, and already blooded. Just the other day he took down a filthy Kaarum in the night by himself. You know where you are don’t you, Captain?”

The captain looked unconvinced and unimpressed. “Of course. I’m in a dung hole somewhere in the provinces.”

“My friend, you mistake badly.” Harrim’s voice reached a peak of excitement. “This is where it all started. This was Kyven Halfspear’s home, where he grew and played as a child. And his boy may be young still, but time cures that, and there’s more meat on those bones than not. He can hunt and track.”

“Ok, innkeeper, I hear you, now let the lad speak for himself. What is your name?”

“Colter Halfspear.”

“Where did you get the scars?”

“Fighting a Kaarum in the dark at my farm.”

“Can you ride?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you use a sword?”

“No, sir, but I can learn?”

“A spear?”

“No, but I can learn.”

“A bow?”

“Yes sir, best shot in the village.” Technically that was a slight exaggeration on my part since there were two or three who could match my skill on any given day, but I figured it was alright since they didn’t live exactly in the village and weren’t actually in the village at the moment.

“Anything else to say for yourself?”

“I can read and write, and I can do as I’m told.”

He gave me a last searching look from top to bottom and mused over the fresh scabs on my arms. “He’ll need mail, a sword, a spear, food, a horse, a bow, and money. I’ll take him, but he needs to be outfitted properly or my command will send him home, and wages and food can be slow coming, especially for new recruits. I don’t know what he’s done to you to run him out, but you better have him ready when breakfast is over.”

Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman

On to The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep Fantasy Novel Chapter Six

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