Little Cobbie Laysie came by with his gaggle of
friends, and started his usual late afternoon pleadings to Dayen. “Come away from there, ya slow, dirty
bugger! We’re ready for the storgi
hunt! Come on! Nobody does the storgi
call like you!” The boys around Cobbie
tried to imitate the baying call of the short, stoat mammal.
Nobody
could make the sound like Dayen, though.
He had made a small wooden tube and could make it produce the storgi
wail perfectly, while everyone else could only produce choking, flatulent
sounds from it. It was perhaps this
ability that kept Dayen from being teased about his limp. His right leg was stiff, his knee locking,
causing him to be much slower than the rest.
But Dayen’s good nature and gifts with the storgi horn kept their
instinctive cruelty at bay.
Dayen turned to his father who was
finishing up his work at the blacksmith shop.
“Can I go now, Poppa? I’ve
cleaned up my work, I promise.”
Grayce
Black looked back at him through tired but loving eyes. “Go on, but be careful. Stay within yourself, and remember, the wind
is changing, winter is fast approaching.”
Stay within yourself was a phrase that Dayen had heard from his father
since he could remember. It was a deep
reflection of Grayce’s humble, stoic nature.
“Thank
you, Poppa!” He gave Grayce a quick hug,
grabbed his storgi flute, and hobbled off with the boys of Tarla for what might
be the last great storgi hunt of the season.
Before they got out of the village, the
girls found them. “Where are ya goin’,
ya pea brain boyos?” said pretty Delena, her blonde hair streaked with red
clay.
Ferlin, the biggest oldest boy, the one
who seemed to always take the forefront when it came to girls, spoke up for the
group. “We’re going storgi hunting, not
that it’s any o’your girly business, Delena.”
“Can we come too?” asked Sweeney, the
youngest of the girls.
The boys laughed derisively. “You’re daft, Delena,” Ferlin said. “Go back home. Help your mas prepare the spitfire. We’re gonna have the hugest roastin’ this
boggity town has ever seen.”
Delena was of an age and temperament
where she did not want the likes of Ferlin Mast putting her in her place. “Ya don’t need our help, eh? Well, la-di-dah! We’re going storgi hunting too, then. Can’t trust you nitwits to come with
something!”
“You
can’t come with us!” shouted Cobbie. The
other boys huzzahed in support.
“You
can’t stop us!” yelled Ninka, the girls applauding in support.
“We’ll
go out on our own,” said Delena with a sly grin. “Then we’ll see who the storgi catchers are!”
Ferlin
laughed. “Ha! We’re stronger and run faster, and we’ve got
Dayen’s Storgi call! Ya don’t have a
prayer!”
“Aye. Maybe.
But we do have this.” She pulled
back a towel on a basket that Ninka had been holding. “Fresh sweetcream rolls. No storgi could resist them.”
And
neither could most boys. “In that case,
may the best man win!” Ferlin and each
of the boys quickly filched a roll and ran off.
Except for poor Dayen, who just gave the girls a little shrug, and
hobbled off after them as best he could.
Father
was right. The winter would be very
soon. The bite of the wind was very
strong. The first deep snow would be any
day now. Dayen looked out into the
woods, searching for the boys. He found
them in the Mary Glen, downing the last of the stolen rolls. “You’re all going to smell like
sweetcream. When I call the storgi, he’s
going to come straight at you,” Dayen teased them.
Soon
enough, however, they were ready for the hunt.
Dayen gave out the call, an eerie wail that pierced through winds, and
sent out an irresistible cry for storgis even avers away,
The
boys crouched silently, trying to pick up whatever sound they could. After a few minutes that seemed to take
forever, that heard a crashing through the bush, coming from their right, near
the boggy area. The boys ran quickly to
the sound, leaving Dayen to catch up.
The
scene they came across frightened them to the core. The girls had actually gotten there first,
and they came just in time to see a squealing storgi run away, and the awful
sight of Ninka slowly sinking in the middle of a bog. None of the girls could reach her, and Ninka
was already waist deep.
“Grab
my hand!” cried out Ferlin. He laid down
into the bog, but he couldn’t reach her, and started to sink himself. He was pulled out by as many as could grasp
his legs. They frantically looked for a
limb or branch that could be extended to her.
She was now chest deep, and was having trouble keeping her arms above
the mud.
Dayen,
slower than the rest, finally arrived close enough to see the horrible
scene. “It’s awful, Dayen!” wailed
Cobbie to Dayen. “Ninka’s stumbled into
a bog, and we can’t get her out. She’s
gonna die if we don’t do something.”
Dayen
watched in shock as Ninka’s arms and neck disappeared. What could he do? What could any of them do? He felt utterly useless.
When
he saw Ninka’s head sink under, something else took over, some instinct came
forth he could not control. To the
amazement of all, Dayen threw himself into the bog, leaping to where Ninka was,
and he sank almost instantaneously.
Everyone’s
heart stopped. No one said a word. Ten seconds went by, and then they began to
hear a low rumbling from underneath the bog.
It accelerated, like the rumble of a building volcano. A whirlpool began to swirl and form in the
center. Just when the children were
ready to turn and run in stark terror, Dayen and Ninka, clasping each other
like womb mates, shot out of the center of the whirlpool, as if they were being
spit out as indigestible food by a caustic worm.
Dayen
and Ninka lay on the ground outside of the bog, bruised and muddy, but
otherwise all right.
“Dayen,
you’re a hero!” said an awed Cobbie.
“How in the world did you do that?”
Dayen
just looked up at Cobbie, dazed. “I-I wish I knew.”
He
sat on his dark throne, rubbing his temples.
The Sorcerer Drym threw open the door, bursting in with as much energy
and force as he had ever seen Drym display.
Drym
quickly fell to his knees, his head bowed.
“Lord, please forgive the intrusion.
But the signs have occurred.”
This
was interesting. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,
Lord. They are strong and unmistakable.”
He
arose, towering over the kneeling sorcerer.
“Where?”
“In
Tarla, Sire. The province of Gorst .”
“All
the way out there?” Gorst was on the
other side of the kingdom. He chuckled
to himself. “Well, brother dear, it
looks like you took great efforts to hide him, but it seems like you’ve
underestimated my dear Drym, haven’t you? Put aside the fact that I’ve waited for nine
years. But we won’t blame you for that,
will we, Drym?”
“It
is very difficult without a sign, my Lord.”
“So
it must be, Drym. Just be sure you’re
right.” Drym nodded reassuringly. “send out the shurpin dragon. Tell the Gorst administrator he has a life
and death mission to commence. And that
the deaths will include his own if he should fail.”
Although
Tarla as a whole seemed ready to celebrate the grandest miracle of it’s
existence, Grayce Black did not seem to share in the joy. “Oh, Dayen, you have no idea what you’ve
done.”
Dayen
was very confused. The town was
preparing a huge feast in his honor, and Poppa had physically confined him to
his room. “No, Poppa. I don’t understand what happened, how I did
what I did. But I do know that Ninka is
alive.”
He
sat down on Dayen’s bed, his head in his arms.
“I told you to stay within yourself.
Bad things could happen if you don’t.”
“I
don’t see how saving Ninka could be bad.”
“Maybe
I was naïve. To think we could go on
this way forever. It was bound to come
up sooner or later. There is so much you
don’t know. Sometimes the responsibility
is so hard. I can’t blame you for doing
good. It’s just now we have to face up
to the consequences.”
“Consequences? Is someone mad at me?”
“Not
here in Tarla. But somewhere.” Grayce stroked Dayen’s cheek. “You are a most extraordinary boy. Come, we must prepare to leave. There may be very little time.”
“Leave? Why?”
Dayen was stunned.
There
are those who will notice what you have done, and their reactions will not be
like you friends in Tarla.”
The
children rushed to Grayce Black’s door.
The feast was getting underway, and the guest of honor had not yet
emerged. “Come out, Dayen!” they all said. “The men rustled three storgis…there’s plenty
‘o’ sweetcreams…all the girls want to kiss you…we’re going to dance!” All their urgings were jumbled and noisy,
creating a cacophony that brought Grayce to the door.
“I’m
sorry to disappoint everyone, but you must give Dayen a chance to recover. Maybe tomorrow night.” He tried to shut the door but the children
stopped him.
“I
don’t understand, sir,” pleaded Cobbie.
“He was fine an hour ago when I saw him.
He was very excited about the feast.”
“I
know, but I’m his guardian, and I say he’s not up to it.”
Dayen
came to the door carrying a small bag.
“What do you mean, Poppa? I feel fine.”
“Yes,
sir, please, what Dayen did was amazing.
The whole village wants to thank you,” said Ferlin.
“And
a whole ‘nother village, too!” piped in Little Sweeney.
“What
are you talking about, little girl?” asked Grayce, a tinge of fear in his
voice.
“Look!”
she said pointing to the hills to the west of the village. There was a mass of lighted torches, moving
quickly towards them.
“Dayen! Don’t argue with me! Come with me NOW!” He grabbed Dayen by his tunic, and dragged
him towards the blacksmith shop. Grayce
took an old sword that Dayen remembered his father always having, but never
using. He handed Dayen a compact, but
fierce looking dagger. He then told
Ferlin, “Have the older ones take a sword or weapon if you need it, then go
back to your homes to defend them. Put
the younger ones in hiding.”
“Why?”
asked Ferlin. “What’s going on?”
“That’s
not another village. That’s the whole
Gorstian army. I don’t have time to
explain or argue. Now go!”
Ferlin
and the older boys prepare to leave.
“Come Delana! Cobbie! Ninka! All of you!
Let us hide you!”
Ninka
took Dayen’s hand. “No, I’m not leaving
Dayen.”
Grayce
could begin to smell the smoke. “By
Osna’s ghost, there’s no time to argue!”
He took Dayen in one arm and Sweeney in the other. Ninka And Cobbie ran after them as they
headed for a mine tunnel at the foot of the hill north of town. The tunnel was a windy, dark path that all
the locals were familiar with that led to the kingdom on the other side,
Faustia.
Dayen
could see the village burn as he looked over his father’s shoulder. He heard the screams of the villagers. People he had known all his life were
suffering and dying. But why? For something he had done? It was too much to bear.
Grayce
moved as quickly as he could, but the fury behind him was growing. At the entrance to the tunnel he put down
Dayen and Sweeny. He took a lighted
torch from the entrance and handed it to Dayen.
He blew out the other entrance torch.
“Go through the tunnel Now! Take
the children if you must, but go now!”
“But
what about you, Poppa?” Dayen whimpered, tears streaking his eyes. The other children began crying.
“NO
MORE ABOUT ME! EVER! Go through to Faustia. The village of Seatin
is on the other side. Find the noseless
hag! IF YOU LOVE ME, IF YOU LOVE THIS
WORLD, GO NOW!”
“Poppa!” Grayce shoved Dayen and the children into the
tunnel. He took his sword and lifted it,
aiming at one of the wooden pillars that held up the entrance. “I love you, Dayen Strong. May your father’s spirit preserve you! May it preserve us all!” Dayen heard the sharp whoosh of a flaming
arrow. He saw the flames coming from
Grayce’s back, where it had pierced through his tunic. He groaned loudly, but with the power of
Grayce’s will and his well-crafted sword, he was able to swing at the pillar
and shift it enough for the crumbling to start.
The children backed further down the tunnel as the entrance started to
cave in.
“Poppa,
no!” The only answer was the dark, and
the fear that the cave in would not keep out the invaders forever. Tears overwhelmed him, but he had the three
children to think about. Their only
weapon a small dagger, their only guide a dwindling torch, they headed the only
way they could. Toward Faustia and the
unknown.
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