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Authors: K. J. Hargan
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cold, wet morning the garonds silently mounted their horses, eyes shiftily watching for enemies. They rode like mad men to the Bairn River, a hungry and grumbling Boil constantly staring over at Frea.
Near the river were flocks of black and white birds that rose into the air with a mournful call of “pee-teeee”. Boil and Drool chased after them, but caught none. Frea thought they were idiotically comedic, but dare not laugh.
When they reached the banks of the Bairn, the river was swollen and wild from the night’s rain. Eyebrow threw Frea from his horse, and then the garonds dismounted and howled with rage. Frea dared not run.
“We must ride west at least another day on empty stomachs!” Boil bellowed at Eyebrow.
“Be silent, fool!” Eyebrow bellowed back, with a death grip on Frea’s hair.
Drool circled around to stand by Boil. “She’s not much meat. She won’t be missed.”
Eyebrow murderously growled at this insubordination.
Frea stared out at the white rapids of the Bairn. Without thinking, a song rose out of her. She sang of home, and family, happiness and peace. The garonds stood completely still as if bewitched. The song was mournful, but hopeful and the music in Frea was powerful and enchanting. The refrain ended with, “Peace and love at home.”
“Peace and love at home” Frea spoke again in garond.
The silence was palpable.
Tears welled in Drool’s eyes. Eyebrow stood completely still as if trying to understand the emotions stirring in his heart. But, with a rising scream, Boil lunged at Frea with his bronze clad club. Eyebrow swung around, and with his own club, crushed Boil’s skull with a one, wide stroke. Drool and Eyebrow regarded each other.
“Well?” Eyebrow snarled at Drool.
Frea felt the dagger underneath her purple woolen dress. She could draw and kill Eyebrow with a single slash. But then could she stop Drool? Frea seemed to hear her grandmother speak as though she was standing right behind her. “Your greatest move against your enemy will be to not fight.” Frea dropped her hand from her secret dagger.
“He was an idiot,” Drool spat on the corpse of Boil. “We should ride west along the river.” Drool nervously eyed Eyebrow’s massive, tensing shoulders, and then looked down at Boil’s body.
Drool quietly snarled sideways at Eyebrow and mounted his horse. They left the garond’s body on the sandy shore of the Bairn River. The three of them rode on looking for a place to ford the wild and rushing Bairn, as Boil’s riderless horse followed after.
Chapter Six
Rescue and Search
At Rion Ta, Halldora keened over Haergill’s body in the softly falling rain as the evening closed in. Kellabald and Yulenth gathered the garond bodies in a pile to burn for when the rain stopped.
The Archer, the elf, Wynnfrith and Alrhett carefully helped Halldora carry Haergill’s body into a hut in the village. Inside Halldora, Wynnfrith and Alrhett keened in earnest.
Respectful, the others stepped outside into the pouring rain. Rion Ta was a collection of five small huts and a small sized Great Hall only forty paces long, all clustered around the open communal square. The night’s darkness became oppressive with the increasing rain. The large, towering elms and oaks at the edge of the village were black and the forest was deep. All was silence except for the drum beat of the rain on the mud.
“Perhaps we should more carefully search the village for anything else useful,” Yulenth offered.
“A good idea,” Kellabald said with sadness.
“Should we burn the village?” Yulenth wondered. “To keep the garonds from using it as a garrison?”
“No,” Kellabald said solemnly. “Any of Rion Ta who survives must have their homes to return to.”
A grim silence of understanding settled on the group.
“We should find something for the white one to eat, so he stays agreeable,” Yulenth said eyeing Conniker, who sat blinking in the rain.
“Wolves can eat bread
Near the river were flocks of black and white birds that rose into the air with a mournful call of “pee-teeee”. Boil and Drool chased after them, but caught none. Frea thought they were idiotically comedic, but dare not laugh.
When they reached the banks of the Bairn, the river was swollen and wild from the night’s rain. Eyebrow threw Frea from his horse, and then the garonds dismounted and howled with rage. Frea dared not run.
“We must ride west at least another day on empty stomachs!” Boil bellowed at Eyebrow.
“Be silent, fool!” Eyebrow bellowed back, with a death grip on Frea’s hair.
Drool circled around to stand by Boil. “She’s not much meat. She won’t be missed.”
Eyebrow murderously growled at this insubordination.
Frea stared out at the white rapids of the Bairn. Without thinking, a song rose out of her. She sang of home, and family, happiness and peace. The garonds stood completely still as if bewitched. The song was mournful, but hopeful and the music in Frea was powerful and enchanting. The refrain ended with, “Peace and love at home.”
“Peace and love at home” Frea spoke again in garond.
The silence was palpable.
Tears welled in Drool’s eyes. Eyebrow stood completely still as if trying to understand the emotions stirring in his heart. But, with a rising scream, Boil lunged at Frea with his bronze clad club. Eyebrow swung around, and with his own club, crushed Boil’s skull with a one, wide stroke. Drool and Eyebrow regarded each other.
“Well?” Eyebrow snarled at Drool.
Frea felt the dagger underneath her purple woolen dress. She could draw and kill Eyebrow with a single slash. But then could she stop Drool? Frea seemed to hear her grandmother speak as though she was standing right behind her. “Your greatest move against your enemy will be to not fight.” Frea dropped her hand from her secret dagger.
“He was an idiot,” Drool spat on the corpse of Boil. “We should ride west along the river.” Drool nervously eyed Eyebrow’s massive, tensing shoulders, and then looked down at Boil’s body.
Drool quietly snarled sideways at Eyebrow and mounted his horse. They left the garond’s body on the sandy shore of the Bairn River. The three of them rode on looking for a place to ford the wild and rushing Bairn, as Boil’s riderless horse followed after.
Chapter Six
Rescue and Search
At Rion Ta, Halldora keened over Haergill’s body in the softly falling rain as the evening closed in. Kellabald and Yulenth gathered the garond bodies in a pile to burn for when the rain stopped.
The Archer, the elf, Wynnfrith and Alrhett carefully helped Halldora carry Haergill’s body into a hut in the village. Inside Halldora, Wynnfrith and Alrhett keened in earnest.
Respectful, the others stepped outside into the pouring rain. Rion Ta was a collection of five small huts and a small sized Great Hall only forty paces long, all clustered around the open communal square. The night’s darkness became oppressive with the increasing rain. The large, towering elms and oaks at the edge of the village were black and the forest was deep. All was silence except for the drum beat of the rain on the mud.
“Perhaps we should more carefully search the village for anything else useful,” Yulenth offered.
“A good idea,” Kellabald said with sadness.
“Should we burn the village?” Yulenth wondered. “To keep the garonds from using it as a garrison?”
“No,” Kellabald said solemnly. “Any of Rion Ta who survives must have their homes to return to.”
A grim silence of understanding settled on the group.
“We should find something for the white one to eat, so he stays agreeable,” Yulenth said eyeing Conniker, who sat blinking in the rain.
“Wolves can eat bread
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