Posted by admin on February 27, 2009
I do not hurt enough to write poetry,
Nor do I love enough to try.
I have not the happiness of soul.
But there is a need. LISTEN
to my little voice. I will be
HEARD. The violence is not
strong enough, the passion was not
long enough. If I can raise my
voice LOUD enough, none of the
rest will really matter because by
then you will KNOW who
I am. My desire will be
satisfied and people will
CALL me a poet.
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Posted by admin on February 25, 2009
Do you want me to write a verse for you?
To name your beauty or our love so rare?
Why talk of lips and face so tender true,
Or speak of feature’s clear and sharp to stare
Into love’s eyes with words not fair enough
To tell the thought hidden deep in my heart
Not that you’re not beautiful, but too rough
Am I, and not moved to the poet’s art.
Dull darkness moves me to speak of you now
To express my love if that love it is.
No phase, gentle or kind will tell you how
Poetics like this do us not justice.
Day, night, all time passes wond’ring of thee
The perfect hopes, the nights, the days to be.
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Posted by admin on February 23, 2009
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.
The next day we saw six wagons drawing close to the village from the south as Pascalli and I returned from our daily practice. “They’ll be carrying food or silk north. Most of the food comes from the west. They’ll trade it for gold or tools or furs to take to the south,” said Pascalli.
We rode out to greet them. The wagons did not pause at our approach though a man clad in mail rode out to greet us. “You must be Pascalli,” said the man in armor. “My name is Imat. A cousin of mine said a fat man and a boy were loafing about up here waiting for the caravans to start.”
“Your cousin was right.” Pascalli smiled and laughed. “I see you come fairly well supplied, but Nysang and his men are rumored to be waiting further north. A few extra spears can’t hurt.”
“Nysang is a pig, but nobody’s made him squeal yet. They say he has nearly a hundred men riding with him now. The rotted Kaarum gave every worthless beggar an excuse to turn thief and the rotted empire gave all of them swords to do it with. I’ve a dozen solid men. Is it just you two, or can I expect any more help in Larston?” asked Imat.
“We’ve one companion,” replied Pascalli. “He’s a stout fellow and not to be trifled with in or out of battle. I would advise against taking on anyone else at Larston. Erich the Bald is waiting at Radston. If the stories are true he has something personal against Nysang. He may be valuable to have along.”
“He’s a greasy one Erich. Slipped through more hangmen’s ropes than anybody. You seem well informed,” said Imat.
“I keep my eyes open,” replied the wizard.
“Good, you’ll need them. We’ll water the oxen and horses and do a little trading in Larston. Tomorrow we push on. That dung pile Angry Gim beat us to the best of it already.”
“His load was small,” said Pascalli. “You may need to travel a bit further than expected, but you should still get your price. Nobody else has come this way.”
I watched mutedly as they discussed their business. The dozen men Imat spoke of carried a mixture of weapons and armor fragments scavenged from previous battles. Their mounts were better than those generally used by villagers or even soldiers. The men were rough and hard. They eyed us curiously, especially Pascalli who seemed to have usurped a position of greater importance without passing their approval.
Imat directed the affairs of the guards and watched over the wagons, but Darman, a small easy-going man owned the wares and made the final decisions. For the most part Darman ignored Iven and me, though the smith proved more useful to the caravan than the rest of us. Iven often repaired pieces of equipment, and each time I served as his assistant, learning a bit of his craft each day. We passed through a few tiny villages on our way. At each we traded only a little. At one of these we added Erich the Bald to our number.
“Pay attention to Imat,” warned Pascalli. “He’s a strong leader and you can learn from him. Watch how he handles his men and learn to do the same.”
“What about Erich?” I asked. “Imat listens to him.”
“Good job, Scratch. I hoped you might notice that. Erich’s a shrewd fighter, and wise enough to avoid the attention of Darman. Watch them both, but take the older warrior’s advice if he gives it. He hasn’t lived this long through foolishness.”
Each day before we began moving and after we stopped, Pascalli worked with me on my spear. Though the other guards often observed our practice they rarely said anything about it. Only Erich the Bald ever interrupted us.
“You’re too nervous, lad,” he said one day. “Stop thinking about winning or losing the fight. Stop thinking about the forms. By now you know how to hold the thing and where to put it. Let your mind relax and let your body enjoy the movements.”
I thought to ask him to explain himself, but hesitated. I tried to apply his method, but failed. Later, as he sat alone with his drink I approached him. “I can’t do it,” I said.
He looked into my eyes, and though his own were bloodshot and weary with drink and travel, even I could see the cunning and desire to survive that he tried to hide. “You’ll learn,” he said. “The old windbag says you’ve been blooded, so you’ve sense enough to handle yourself, but you’ll not reach your father’s greatness without losing your fear.” He caught the question in my eyes and stopped me before I could ask. “I rode with your pa, almost from the start. You’ll never be able to hide from those who knew him well. You’ve the same face, and the same fears. Learn to keep your fears someplace else and you’ll see improvement.”
I went away confused but less uncertain. Pascalli continued to push. I had little time to myself. Though my thoughts sometimes returned to my farm or the places I had known since, I had no opportunity to dwell on them. Then, one day our scout didn’t return.
Imat corralled the wagons immediately and personally verified that each person was properly armed. The bandits were no fools. They knew we couldn’t wait for long and that they outnumbered us. We spent one night in silent anticipation before Darman convinced him we had to continue on. Imat’s concession was to travel slowly and place each rider for maximum mobility.
The attack the following morning happened swiftly and with precision. Only Imat’s careful planning preserved the caravan. A hail of arrows fell over us before nearly a hundred men on foot charged into us. The few who kept bows in the wagons returned fire quickly. A man to my right took an arrow to the chest and our little group swung out wide to flank the attack and draw away a part of their force.
Across the road Erich waded into the battle. He whirled an enormous spiked chain with horrible accuracy. Men fell away from him wounded or frightened as he cleared a wide path for his allies. His face was calm and his voice steady as he shouted orders to nearby guards.
Imat directed yet a third group with precision, flanking the attack opposite my group. Though the outlaws outnumbered us severely, the guardsmen were all veterans of at least a few close battles and handled themselves without fear. A few, like myself became disoriented at times and had to rely on the careful direction of the experienced leaders. Others threw themselves at the enemy with a passion and bloodlust I had never before seen.
Despite being afoot, Erich the Bald reached Nysang first. The bandit leader was a large man, nearly as large as Pascalli. He wore thick furs that did not completely hide the many scars on his arms and legs. He used a great axe with brutal efficiency, and was alone responsible for most of our losses that day. He caught Erich’s chain with the axe and ripped it from the smaller man’s hands as if plucking the hide from an ear of corn. Undaunted, Erich stepped in and drew a short, broad stabbing sword forged after the manner of the old empire.
They threw themselves at each other with the precise, trained fury of men who knew not only combat but their opponent’s mind and will. All around them the battle slowed as men focused on the display of single combat. Blows fell and were countered on both sides. Erich used speed beyond what his old legs seemed capable. Nysang growled and lunged, receiving a vicious gash on the right arm for his efforts. Quickly Erich stepped aside and past the larger man before he could raise his guard again. By the time the axe was ready, the sword drove home, and with one breath the outlaws fled into the woods.
Our numbers had been cut in half, both of guards as well as servants and drivers. Darman asked for volunteers among the guards to drive wagons, and Iven offered my services. We stayed with the caravan until we reached the silver mines east of Dynwater in the lower parts of the Northern Crown. Darman made a fair trade in both coin and bullion, and he agreed to keep us on as he returned south to seek yet more profit before he could return to Havensod to buy an inn and retire in comfort. We rode with him for several markets, listening to news of the wide world and sharing the caravan’s troubles.
Each day I learned a little more from my companions, until Pascalli no longer hovered over me at every turn. Erich left us shortly after turning south. “If ever you return to the east, lad, you’ll find me wandering here. I’ll gladly share my fire with Halfspear’s son.”
As summer faded into autumn we found ourselves west and south of Dynwater, but not so far west as Anascrag. “I’ll be turning east again,” said Darman. “I’ve furs and coin and food enough to set a tidy profit. I’ve no love for the regent or his pig Torbridge, but Havensod is a place that holds my heart. I know you can’t follow me all the way, but I’d be obliged if you could ride that way at least for a market or two.”
Pascalli nodded and smiled. “For a few markets. We’ll need a safe place to winter. Word is the Festival of Spears will be held next summer. In the spring I mean to go to Anascrag.”
“Then we’ll go south first, and leave you where the weather is less dangerous and the people more friendly,” agreed Darman. “I’ve a cousin who often travels east to west and back again. You may have the luck to fall in with him along the way.”
We passed the winter wandering from village to village as tinkers and mercenaries. Though few of the common folk had use for a sword or spear, anybody who could mend a wagon wheel or shoe a horse was welcome. When the snows began to fall few merchants traveled the roads, but those who did welcomed our company for our names and faces were known among the people of the wild lands. Often when we entered a new tavern or inn, the name of Scratch slipped out and someone would call for an account of our battle with Nysang.
By spring Iven had given me a razor sharp steel knife to use for shaving. “Beards are for dishonest men and nobles, which is usually the same thing,” he said. “Keep your face clean and people will know you’ve nothing to hide.”
Pascalli laughed and tugged at his own beard. “Believe what you want, my friend. Styles come and go. When I was a boy a beard was a symbol of power and prestige. Today it is more a matter of preference. It’s time we turned north again and began looking for Darman’s cousin. The Kaarum will be scouting south again by now, and we’ve business in the west.”
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
On to The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep Fantasy Novel Chapter Twenty Three
Back to The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep Fantasy Novel Chapter Twenty One
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Posted by admin on February 20, 2009
Golden Summer afternoon
to come and stay beside
you now.
To think, not sing, though there’s a song
in my heart.
Quiet, graceful, then
Bursting out in playful games.
The thought of a friendship that
perhaps
could never be. If only you didn’t
talk
back with me.
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Posted by admin on February 18, 2009
Psychology is mutiny. Scientists
Ponder endlessly how
People find insanity. Looks and
Peeks mechanically for ways to
Part such strange disease and
Pen it all psychology.
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Posted by admin on February 16, 2009
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.
We left Delvin’s farm and turned east and north back into the mountains. We made every attempt to hide our tracks, and I learned a few tricks from Pascalli that I hadn’t known about throwing off pursuit. “As you know, tracking is more about knowing where your quarry is likely to go than just randomly looking for sign,” said the wizard. “So to avoid capture you have to stay a step ahead of the pursuit and gage his ability to understand your motives as well. It will do you no good to think three or four steps ahead of your pursuit if he can’t manage to even guess your next move.”
“What do you think Torbridge will do?” I asked.
“He will watch the roads to the west, at least as far as he can. It won’t take him long to figure out that we’ve gone into the mountains, but he knows we will have to come out sooner or later so he will watch the frontier and the settlements. He won’t risk his men in the mountains while the snowline is so low. When the snow melts, if he hasn’t had word he may send men to find us. Our trick will be to get out of the mountains and into territory where your face and name aren’t connected. We need news of the wide world, and soon. I’d hoped they would forget you during the winter, but it’s beginning to look like that hasn’t happened.”
Pascalli kept us moving until well after nightfall. Though we kept below the snowline, night came hard and cold. We found a sheltered place between two tall pines that cut off the wind. One of the wide trunks served as a reflector for our small fire. We huddled around it in the darkness, careful not to look directly into the flames and listened to the sounds of the forest.
“The farmer gave me some chicory root,” said Iven. He tossed some of the dried grounds into a pot of water over the fire. “I’ve missed it since we ran out.”
“I used to gather it back on the farm. Mamma taught me to dry it and roast it. Most evenings we sat listening to her read to us from the books that survived the fire,” I said.
“Your mother is a wise woman,” said Pascalli. “No doubt she taught you much about the world beyond Dunston. She has relatives in Havensod. Some distant cousin, I believe, is a minor dignitary to the regent. They were delighted when she married your father, though later he displeased them greatly by retiring to Dunston.”
“Will we be going on to Anascrag now?” asked Iven. His eyes betrayed his hope and anxiety.
“Not yet, my friend,” replied Pascalli. “Scratch needs to learn to handle that spear a little better before I risk him that close to danger.” The smith seemed unconvinced. “Lord Trelsin is a relative to Dunroust. Not only that, they are friends.”
“So we can’t return to Anascrag until Trelsin dies?” said Iven in disgust. “There must be another way.”
“Of course there is another way,” replied Pascalli, his tone curt. “Time is our ally at the moment. The Kaarum will not recover for many markets, at least I hope they don’t, but until the last little bands are eliminated in the east the minds of the nobles will continue to dwell on war, and when they think of war they will think of Halfspear. Eventually their enthusiasm will die down and their minds will turn to other matters, like the Festival of Spears.”
“They haven’t held the festival for five summers,” said Iven. “It may never happen again.”
“It will happen,” replied the wizard. “I am sure of that, and when it does we will return to Anascrag. I hope that we can return before it happens, but not long before. Last summer already there was talk of it Dynwater, but the threat of the Kaarum changed any plans. It won’t be long before the plans begin again. Then their minds will forget our young charge, and Anascrag will be a safer place.”
“I still don’t like it,” grumbled the smith. He wrapped himself in his blankets and soon slept peacefully. I drank my chicory and watched the stars. Despite the danger and possible pursuit I felt at peace. I wanted to see Anascrag and the west. I wanted to do what my father hadn’t done.
Pascalli shook me awake before the first sunlight thought to creep over the mountaintops. We saddled our horses and broke camp in the quiet darkness without bothering even to build a fire to take the edge off the chill. Pascalli and Iven were quiet and I followed their example. We cut sharply north. I wondered why we made no attempts to hide our trail until the first drops of rain began to fall.
Pascalli pushed us faster until we came to a steep rocky incline that sloped into a narrow canyon. Our horses left little sign on the slippery rocks as we followed it down. Within moments all hints of our passage would be wiped away. A small stream wandered along the bottom of the canyon, full with spring runoff. The water would be icy cold from the glaciers higher up, and if the rain continued it could quickly swell to a dangerous roar.
“Keep to the side,” warned Pascalli. “After a few kilometers the canyon branches north and south. Assuming they try to track us at all they will probably not find the canyon. If they do, the stream should be full enough they won’t follow.”
“Assuming it doesn’t flood us in the process,” grumbled Iven.
“Then we best make haste,” agreed Pascalli.
By early afternoon we found the north fork of the canyon and left the stream. Already it had swollen beyond the limits of safety. All of our tracks would wash away before nightfall. The canyon eventually turned west again and opened into a wide valley. We found shelter in a clump of trees near the mouth of the canyon and decided to wait out the rain.
“A little further west is a road,” said the wizard with a smile. “Merchants will be moving north with grain and south with wool. Our faces won’t be known this far north, and we’ll be well away from the more aggressive pursuit.”
“Somebody’s bound to recognize you or the lad sooner or later,” said Iven. “You’ve a face to remember.”
“As long as we stay in the north there is little risk of that. Nobody knows Scratch, and most commoners think I’m merely a myth. We’ll stay off the imperial highways if that will make you feel better.”
The rain let up before nightfall, and we were able to dry our clothes and enjoy a warm meal. By morning even Iven had recovered some of his higher spirits, and Pascalli led us to the road with a cheerful laugh and broad smile. We waited only a short while before a pair of wagons headed north drifted into view. A small man with a nervous manner drove the first. He stopped short when he saw us.
“’Tis a free road you’re blocking,” he called.
“We’ve no desire to impede your journey,” replied Pascalli. “Indeed, if you fear thieves this spring then perhaps we can help you. My companions and I are also headed north and would gladly offer you our protection.”
“You’ve the look of thieves about you,” replied the man. “No honest man rides a mount as fine as yours.”
“I never said we were honest men, only that we travel north,” said Pascalli. “I usually find safety in numbers.”
“Depends on the company.” The man smirked. He scowled and carefully looked each of us over. “I’m Angry Gim Hammers. You can ride as far as Larston.” The young man driving the wagon behind him watched us carefully though he didn’t speak.
We rode alongside the wagons at an easy pace. Pascalli seemed content with their company and the course they set. I rode beside the second wagon, not wanting to interfere with the conversation of my elders. I noticed a longbow behind the seat and a quiver of arrows. The driver kept a long knife at his belt. Gim wore a similar knife, and I was sure more weapons waited hidden in his wagon.
“In the east everybody travels armed,” advised Pascalli when we camped. “Nobles may have better weapons, but every man carries something. The law is rare and you have to learn to solve your own problems out here. In the west the old kingdom has better control. Here the land is still young. Keep your eyes open.”
When we reached Larston I felt the tension lift a little and was glad to leave Gim. I expected Pascalli to push on again right away, but instead we took rooms at a boarding house and settled in to wait. Iven still carried enough tools to turn his hand at nearly any task and offered his services as a tinker to pay our rent while Pascalli looked after my training. Each day we rode out before dawn to practice with my weapons. We always rode a wide circle around the village, scouting the local farms and area. Afterwards I helped Iven with his chores. Pascalli spent most of his time eating, drinking, and visiting with the locals.
Though Iven’s contempt of Pascalli’s manner was visible, the wizard didn’t seem to mind. In the evenings I often sat at his table, or nearby as he played dice or cards or swapped stories with the townsfolk. He never let me join any game, though at times he showed me his tricks for winning or losing as the occasion required.
“What are we waiting for?” I asked, one evening as we returned from the tavern.
“An opportunity, and news,” he replied. “It was still early in the season for much traffic, but soon more merchants will take to the roads. I’ve let word get out that we are looking for work. News travels quickly, though you may not guess it. Every sword for hire has a story behind it. Even Gim will have told others about us by now. Torbridge is still looking for us, though it seems word has gotten around about how he treated Delvin. He won’t get any help he can’t buy or force through his own troops. That gives us a bit more room to work. We should be able to hire on again soon enough.”
“Do you think Torbridge will ever give up the pursuit?” I asked.
“No, not while he lives. In Darnuth Keep, if we survive it, we’ll be free from the empire for they’ve no hold there, but it is a place even more wild than this. You won’t be safe this side of Anascrag.”
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
On to The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep Fantasy Novel Chapter Twenty Two
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Posted by admin on February 13, 2009
Dopo youpou knowpow thapat
Therpere ipis apa waypay
topo tapalk thapat ipis
specrepet topo thepe
ipigmipies opof apafripicapa
Ipi dopo.
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Posted by admin on February 11, 2009
“There is no death for the young,”
they say.
Lie
Did I say, “lie,”
I meant it.
“There is no death for the young.”
Who the hell ever said it should be …
What’s the point …
Its over anyway.
NO!!! I don’t know. Can’t be. So clean.
Gone now.
Its a good memory,
It feels good to recall
the virtues.
All I can say
now is I’m sorry.
Why say more, or try
to rerun what ended.
Some things cannot
change.
Good-bye.
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Posted by admin on February 9, 2009
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.
I left them with their daughter in the late afternoon sun and headed towards the farm where I knew my companions would be waiting. I barely left the little road that wound away from the farm when a group of four horsemen approached. I noticed something familiar about the way their leader held himself and decided to see who they were. As we drew closer I noticed Torbridge’s crisply clean uniform. He led three imperial troops toward Delvin’s farm. He didn’t recognize me at first. I had grown up a great deal. I wore my new mail comfortably, and though the sword was still strapped across my shoulder, it fit there properly. I now moved more like a soldier and less like a farmer. The most striking change though, would have been the length I added to my legs.
Behind him rode Lyekal. The smith’s son also carried himself like a soldier now. I noticed a new scar on his chin only slightly visible beneath the stubble he grew to cover it. The sword at his belt was one of the many we had turned out prior to the battle of Havensod. Most likely he had scavenged it from an officer who no longer could use it.
“Hallo!” called Torbridge and I slowed to greet them. I must have made an instinctive motion to my bow because his next words surprised me. “You’ve no need to draw against soldiers of the empire, lad. Can you direct me to the farm of Master Delvin?” I pointed back the way I had come and then he recognized me.
“Scratch, my lad, I’m amazed to see you alive and well. His lordship the governor requests your company.” He motioned to his soldiers to surround me and I offered no resistance.
I saw no point to struggling. I couldn’t fight all of them, and I knew that Pascalli and Iven were relatively close. When they missed me they would come and get me. “Hello, captain,” I said. “Hello, Lyekal. I’m glad to see the army has treated you well.” Lyekal avoided my eyes and kept quiet.
“I’ve been sent to help some farmer that complains about missing chickens,” muttered Torbridge. “Do you know anything about it?”
“They were also missing their children,” I replied. “I found their daughter this morning. We killed the creature earlier. You’ve nothing left to do here.”
“It’s too far to ride back tonight. Where can I find this farmer?”
I turned my mount and they followed me back to the farmstead. Delvin stepped onto the porch to watch us. I let Torbridge take the lead as we approached.
“We’ve had reports of chickens killed in the area,” said Torbridge. “I understand the creature was caught and killed.”
“That’s right,” said Delvin. “You’ve arrived too late to save my son, though the young master brought back our daughter.”
“We’ll need to stay tonight,” said Torbridge. “We can stay in the barn. Bring supper when it’s ready.”
Delvin nodded. “Is the lad to stay as well?” he asked.
“Dunroust, the imperial regent has requested his company,” replied the captain. “We’re to escort him to Havensod.”
Delvin nodded again, but his eyes jumped to mine and I knew he didn’t trust the captain’s story. “We’ve just prepared a meal. Come inside and join us.”
We took the horses into the barn and stabled them carefully. Torbridge had lost none of his exactness for his personal care and grooming. His boots shined as brightly as ever. Most soldiers of the Eastern Watch dressed only as well as they could afford. Most seldom shaved or even bathed. Except for a bit of stubble on their faces Torbridge’s men appeared as groomed as courtiers. I followed them slowly back into the farmhouse.
“I’ve found the bowls we keep for special guests,” said Jiora. “I see you’ve traveled far, captain. Would you and your men care for some of our blackberry wine? Delvin put it up himself a few summers back. We don’t often get visitors here.”
“Thank you,” said Torbridge. “I’m sure we will be delighted.”
“There’s only so much as can go around, I’m afraid, my dear,” she said to Delvin. “Just enough for the soldiers.”
“Not to worry, love. Summer will be here soon enough and I shall make some more.”
The meal passed peacefully though the conversation was strained throughout. Torbridge saw that I received water, though his men finished the last drop of the wine.
“Have you heard anything of Wess?” I asked Lyekal as we finished the meal. “I’ve had little news since the battle.”
Lyekal glanced at Torbridge, but the captain seemed caught up in his wine. “We were separated when the fighting started. We were among the first ranks to meet the Kaarum. Most were killed in the initial attack. Others became stranded in the middle. Only a few escaped when the ground began to swallow everything in sight. Nobody has seen anything of Wess. He was presumed dead or deserted, which is the same thing.”
“Any news from Dunston? I’ve not had a chance to visit,” I said.
“Neither have I,” replied Lyekal. “I left for good. Soldiering is good work, and profitable too when it comes to that. I’ve set by a few coins and I’ve a girl in Havensod now. You were a fool to leave. Word is you’re wanted now.”
“That’s enough, corporal.” Torbridge cut in. “Scratch’s business with the lord regent is not your business, nor is it mine. He is our guest. I see you’re still riding the same horse you bought in Havensod last summer.”
“We had no time or chance for breaking new mounts,” I said. I felt he was hunting information, but I had little enough to tell. “I’ve been busy these past markets.”
“Of course,” replied Torbridge. “Learning a new trade is hard work. How is Iven? I see you are alone at the moment.”
“He’ll be along to fetch me soon enough,” I said.
“I thought he would take you straight home to Anascrag. He seemed anxious to return to his forge.”
“We had business to settle here first. An old debt.” Torbridge raised a questioning eyebrow. I knew he didn’t believe me, but he remained curious. “I’ve learned a fair amount in our travels, though. The forge can be cruel master.” I looked into Lyekal’s eyes. “It can also be very profitable.”
“As I’ve explained to the corporal, there is always profit in war,” said Torbridge. “Courage and a steady hand will always bring honor and glory to those strong enough to overcome.”
“I don’t see the good that comes from men dying,” I said.
“There is more to fighting a war than killing. You’ve an opportunity to see that now. Havensod was horrible. I won’t deny that, but it was also a chance for those strong enough to survive. I’ve the ear of the regent now, and the means to help you become a great man if you want it.”
“You and your men must be tired,” interrupted Jiora. “See they’re already nodding. You’ll want to make an early start, no doubt. There’s plenty of room in the barn, though the hay’s not as fresh as one might like. With all the trouble we’ve had, a few chores remain unfinished.”
Torbridge remembered his manners. “Thank you my good lady. You’ve served us better than I would ever have imagined. I am certain we will be perfectly comfortable in the barn and I hope the intrusion will not be too great.”
After consuming far more than the farm could afford, the soldiers wandered into the barn. One by one they drifted off while I looked into the mountains, wondering what had happened to Pascalli and Iven. In the morning the soldiers continued to sleep long after I awoke at my usual time before the sun began to stir. I wandered over to the farmhouse and found Delvin waiting for me.
“They should sleep until mid-day at least,” explained Delvin.
“He’ll be angry when he finds out,” I warned. “Thanks for your help.”
“You’ve given us life and purpose again, my boy. If ever you need a friend, you can find one here.”
He brought out my horse and saddle. Jiora met me with a bit of bread and butter to take with me. She hugged me as she would her own son and kissed me on the forehead. “Come back again when you have a chance, my dear,” she said.
Pascalli and Iven met me only a short way along the road.
“Iven told me you chased something into the brush. I’m glad it didn’t eat you.” He laughed.
“Delvin and his family are nice people,” I replied. “But Torbridge came looking for the creature. He’s still sleeping in their barn.”
“I imagine it won’t go well when he wakes up,” said Iven. “That man has ambitions, and you’re a key to some of them.”
I noticed that the smith led a mule, and it had been packed with a couple of bags. “You bought supplies?” I asked.
“The beast had a small treasure,” replied Pascalli. “Iven and I have put aside a share for you, and the farmer was generous enough to sell us a few things.”
“I would like to leave some with Delvin. Torbridge has already taken more from them than they could afford, and without their son, planting will be hard.”
“I’ll swing back around later,” said the wizard. “I don’t think you should see Torbridge again just now. You’ve done well, Scratch, but let’s not push luck beyond its limits.”
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
On to The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep Fantasy Novel Chapter Twenty One
Back to The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep Fantasy Novel Chapter Nineteen
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Posted by admin on February 6, 2009
Reflections of teh pen as I write.
No simile, just light.
Bouncing back to me and you,
Filling ever joyful our view.
Mirror senses on shining steel.
Smiling as I write.
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