One Eye Opens

by Justin Sargeant

The sun slowly peaked over the eastern mountains casting a red glow upon the world. Landon sat on his bed feeling the warmth of the sun’s rays draw across his face. It was still very early, but he knew everything needed to be packed for the long journey into town. He stood and stretched high into the air. He felt each muscle tighten, then loosen as he relaxed his stretch. His tunic had fallen to the floor during the night but Landon thought nothing of it. Swiftly, he threw it over himself. He headed for the main chamber to make some breakfast for him and Mordecai. Passing his uncle’s room, Landon could make out soft grunts that indicated his uncle was not awake yet.

  As Landon entered the main room he recognized the bowls from last night that he had dried over the fire. He snatched them up and set them on the table in the center of the room. From the shelf, Landon retrieved a couple of potatoes and a large flat pan which he hooked onto a bar over the hearth. Finding a knife, he cut the potatoes into small pieces, and tossed them into the skillet. Then, Landon knelt down towards the base of the hearth and stoked a fire to cook the food. Next, he stood and walked softly across the floor to the shelf on the wall opposite the door. There he found some carrots which he cut up and tossed into the pan with the potatoes.

  “I wish we had some rabbits…” he mused. “That would make this a meal fit for a Duke…”

  Letting the food simmer, he decided to check on his uncle. Pressing his face into a minute crack in the door, he could see the limp frame of a man’s body lying on the bed. Landon became slightly irritated at his guardian. He decided that even if Mordecai wasn’t awake, someone needed to start packing. He found a large knapsack lying on the main table near the fire. He picked it up and placed four apples and two squares of bread into it. In addition, he placed a large rubber sack containing golden crowns they would need for the harness. He tied the sack and left it on the table.

  Returning to the fire, Landon stirred the vegetables with a wooden stick hanging on the wall near the hearth. The sweet aroma radiated from the pan filling the room. A noise from the hallway alerted Landon that the smell had woken his uncle.

  “Blasted chair!” Mordecai said. “Who in their right mind would ever place one so close to their bed?”

  Landon snorted. “That would be you, uncle.”

  “Bah!” he said leaning against the wall. “My toe...” he said reaching down to his foot.

  “It’ll wear off. I’ve already packed our knapsack. All that remains is to eat breakfast and ready the horses.”

  “Hmm. . . Let’s get on with breakfast then.” So saying, Mordecai sat down at the table, separating the bowls and placing them at each seat. Landon picked up the pan and carried it over the table. Careful not to spill any, he hefted the meal into the two bowls. Vapors rose from them filling his nostrils with a strong, savory flavor and making his stomach growl. Then, he carried the skillet out the door and placed it in the large barrel of water causing a huge quantity of steam to arise.

  “I guess you were hungry,” he said curtly in response to the empty plate sitting before his uncle.

  “Aye. I’ll get the horses ready.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Landon said with a yawn.

  Mordecai removed himself from the table and exited the dwelling leaving a cold feeling in the room. Landon understood completely. For one thing, Mordecai was not a morning person. In fact, he wasn’t really an evening person either. He always had a grumpy way about him. And this morning, Mordecai had been determined to leave early, but instead, they had risen two hours late. Once he had his heart set on doing something, there was no deterring him. It was simply best to let him be at times.

  This morning, however, seemed like something more; as though his uncle had woken up in one of his moods that tended to last until sundown. It was in those moods that Mordecai seemed distant and angry. It was as though in sleep he was reminded of something he had long forgotten. The trip, Landon knew, would be a long one.

  Landon sat down at the table for his own meal. He ate at a much slower pace than did his uncle, choosing to saver every last morsel. Landon was so much more of a morning person than Mordecai. He enjoyed the brisk morning air that alerted his senses and got him ready for the day at hand. He especially enjoyed breakfast, for it was one of the few times when he could sit and listen to the morning around him. The rest of his days were filled with work and chaos, but the morning always brought a peace and stillness that Landon cherished.

  Finishing his meal, Landon collected the bowls and, following the same process as the night before, began to wash and clean them. Finally, he hung them over the mantle to dry. Once everything had been properly cleaned, Landon picked up the knapsack and decided to follow his uncle to finish up preparations for the ride into town.

  Outside, Uncle Mordecai was hard at work securing reins, saddles, and saddlebags upon the two horses. The one he would be riding was a tall brown stallion named Abaccus. The horse’s sire had belonged to Mordecai’s father and had descended from a most noble lineage. Abaccus had seemed to be the aberration. Though beautiful and elegant, the horse did not appear to desire hard work. Where its father had worked sunup to sundown seemingly without need of a break, Abaccus would often slough off and whine if he had to ride longer than a few hours. Mordecai loved the horse, but training him took more energy than he longed to give sometimes.

  This morning was no exception. Strapping on the reins, it was evident to Abaccus that he was being required for work. He had danced and neighed and shinnied his way out of Mordecai’s grasp a number of times until finally Mordecai had cornered him and Abaccus knew he had lost. It was at this moment when Landon had come outside. He saw his uncle parading the horse back towards the road leading him by the reins. Abaccus had, what seemed, a sour look on his face. They next had to secure the saddle with bags. Abaccus had started to act as if he might give Mordecai another fit, but he stopped when he saw Landon exit the hut. Landon noticed this and a slight grin stretched on his face. He turned and headed towards the other horse standing in the grass beside the road. This one was his. A tall, dark brown, nearly black, mare named Aquila. She had been wounded in the leg and left to die when Landon had found her.

  At the time, he had been running errands for Mordecai and was a day’s ride from the farm. Landon knew that she would die if he didn’t help her, so he dismounted Abaccus and walked slowly over to her. She noticed him coming and began to squirm and scream for fear of her life. He stopped his advance and raised his hands in a gesture of peace. For a long minute Landon stood there looking into her dark eyes, unsure of what the mare was going to do. Then, as she returned the gaze, she seemed to understand that he was friend, not foe. The mare relaxed and allowed Landon to inspect her. When he did so, he noticed that the leg was broken but able to be mended.

  Tearing off his tunic he prepared a sling for the mare. Tying it off tightly, the horse gave a short whimper. Abaccus strode over to inspect the scene and began to huff understanding he would have to assist as well. Leaning on Abaccus the mare slowly raised herself and limped her way toward the road. They walked this way for about a day, eventually arriving at the farm.

  Once at the farm, a stable was made for the injured horse. Mordecai completed the healing in a month using the knowledge he had been taught from his parents to bring the horse back to full strength. The mare was so thankful she stayed close to Landon at all times. Finally, after a full three months of being rescued and no one coming to call, Landon decided it was time for a name. He had remembered a story Mordecai used to tell of a sweet maiden who, after being rescued from an evil sorcerer, fell in love with her rescuer. The maiden’s name was Aquila. It seemed a fitting name. Now, nearly five years later, Landon was the only person Aquila would allow to ride her.

  Next to his horse, Landon noticed reins and equipment lying on the ground. He retrieved them and began to lace them around his mare. Aquila was the complete opposite of Abaccus; she loved going for rides. As Landon wrapped the reins and saddle around her she began to neigh and shinny
from excitement. She was eager to break into a gallop and could hardly contain herself. It made his task harder for every few moments he had to chase her down. Finally finishing the job, Landon turned to face his uncle and was surprised at the progress he had made. Mordecai was already tying on the saddlebags.

  “At a boy, Abaccus,” he whispered to the horse, “this is going to be a good day.”

  “Uncle, are you about ready? I think Aquila is going to have a heart attack if we don’t get a move on,” Landon said reassuring the horse by stroking her mane.

  “Aye, that about does it. Did you grab the knapsack?”

  “I did,” Landon said as he wrapped the bag around the saddle. Both men mounted their horses, turned them towards the road, and sped off into the direction of Camsbury.

  The road to town was a rather direct route through the most beautiful grassland of the Realm. Encircling the farm was a small ring of trees which ended at the low stone wall of the property line. The road ran through an opening in the stone wall, past the trees, and out into the hills of the shire. The hills spanned out from the road for about one hundred miles before angling into the mountains which surrounded the valley in which Camsbury lay. As the two men crossed their property line, Landon couldn’t help but gaze upon the vast sea of amber which lay before them.

  The sun had fully risen over the eastern mountains casting a quite, golden glow upon the amber fields and the right side of Landon’s body. The wind dashed against the face of the two riders. All of the world was still in this solemn morning. The only sounds were the rush of wind and the horse’s hooves as they beat upon the hardened dirt. Aquila’s breath moved in rhythm to her gallop. Alongside her left flank galloped Abaccus. Wisps of his breath flew wildly as he ran to stay in step. Aquila was always the faster horse. But when riding beside her, Abaccus always attempted to impress her. He left behind his slothful attitude and pounded at every step, keeping the pace. Aquila would stride ahead. Then slow to see if Abaccus would match it. Most times he would not, so she would move even slower to match him. At times he would dash with every ounce of energy within him and match her speed. They rode like this together for quite some time until failing endurance forced them to slow to a more manageable pace. The two men and their horses journeyed for two hours until the foreboding ruins of Bodam Castle came into view.

  Bodam Castle had been a seat of power for the Duke of Camsbury in the Old Kingdom. Myriad nobles visited the castle as they made their way through the valley, hoping to forge an alliance within the Duke’s court. In its prime, the castle had been the splendor of the realm, rivaling even the Palace of Havring which served as a vacation home for the King of the Realm. Castle Bodam had been small in land but was well fortified boasting six turrets that rose some two hundred feet into the sky. The main fortifying wall stood at an impressive four hundred feet combined with two of the turrets on either side of the main gate.

  For four hundred years the castle had stood impregnable to enemy attack, having survived two wars and a number of different sieges. It was only due to a fault discovered in the moat surrounding the castle that brought it to its knees. After the Second King consolidated his realm, many of the dukes and barons were removed from power leaving the castle uninhabited for nearly a century. It was then that the castle met its fate. The moat which had surrounded and protected the fortress had also weakened its foundation. Slowly the castle had sunk into the soft turf beneath it until it toppled over, leaving vast ruins in its place.

  As Landon and Morecai cut through hushed morning, the first thing to come in view on the horizon was the towering main gate. Landon could make out its dark silhouette against the bright landscape. Near to the fort ran a strong brook with fresh water for the horses to refresh themselves. Landon could already hear the water bubbling over the large rocks. It was typical for the horses to water at the spot before continuing along the road. Approaching the ruins, the two men saw the plethora of stones spread along the hills surrounding the site where the castle had once stood. All that remained of the once proud structure was the main gate and the bases of two turrets.

  Landon rode Aquila to the bank of the brook which, due to the drought, had diminished into a tiny stream. It was enough, however, for the horses to drink. The brief rest would give him and Mordecai some time to grab a quick bite. Hopping off of Aquila, adjacent to one of the stone turrets, Landon took the knapsack and pulled out the apples and bread. Mordecai arrived a few seconds later and they both bade their horses towards the stream. The two men sat down in the shade of the battlement and feasted on their lunch.

  It took them only a few minutes to down the apples and bread but they decided to give themselves a few extra minutes in the shade. With few trees along the road and the drought in full swing, the journey had proven to be hotter than anticipated. Mordecai did not look interested in the possibly of another two hours ride. His mood had seemed to brighten slightly from the morning. This was a shock to Landon who had been used to a silent treatment from his uncle when he awoke in such a manner. Perhaps he had been mistaken this morning. However, the ride to town in the heat had not helped.

  He leaned against the stone and closed his eyes, feeling the coolness of the shade and the warmth slowly burn away. Landon turned his gaze upon the two horses getting their fill from the stream. Abaccus had already decided to lie down while Aquila frolicked in the bit of water which existed. Landon wished he could live at Bodam. He imagined its great towers and impressive walls rebuilt, his parents alive ruling the county as Duke and Duchess, and he, a lowly Marquis, learning the traits of a Defender of the Realm. Little else stirred his heart more. In an instant, Mordecai bitterly injected his words into the midst of Landon’s thoughts destroying his fantasy.

  “I think we’ve had enough of a rest.”

  So much for an improved mood.

  “Couldn’t it last just a bit longer?”

  “I am itching to get what we need and return to the farm.”

  “But we’ve ridden the horse quite hard already this morning.”

  “Landon, I do not want to be away from the farm any longer than needs be.”

  “Then this needs be. Come on, uncle. You wouldn’t want the horses tiring out on the way home and we having to walk would you?”

  He scratched his scraggly beard. “Nay, you stay if you want. I will ride on.”

  Reluctantly Landon pulled himself off of the ground and whistled Aquila over to him. She came eagerly at a trot and Landon easily mounted her saddle. Mordecai whistled, but Abaccus remained where he was. Mordecai whistled again but still no movement. Exasperation finally set in as Mordecai trudged over to the stubborn horse.

  “Now you listen to me you over grown flea bag! You get yourself up this instant or there will be no more apples in your oats.” As if understanding the threat, Abaccus slowly began to rise to his feet. Mordecai mounted him with a huff, and together he and Landon continued on their way towards Camsbury.

  As the road carried them ever away from the ruins, Landon couldn’t help but to continually glance back to imagine what the ruins might have looked in its glory days with an attacking army camped on the hills five hundred yards away and an army littered about its ramparts and towers. He could picture his father shouting orders to his Defenders and his mother organizing the women and children into safety. He had slowed behind Mordecai, who knew enough to leave Landon be and ride ahead, knowing he would catch up when he was ready. He took a few more minutes to envision the scene then turned away to catch Mordecai. After an hour’s worth of riding, the ruins were barely visible on the horizon. Landon slowed to a trot as he poured his last gaze over the landscape. The old castle faded into the distance, and Landon thought that for a brief moment he saw a red flag flying off one of the turrets and heard a trumpet sounding the alarm of battle.

  He returned his attention to the road ahead to see the faint outline of a walled city in the distance. From the midst of the city, Landon could make out the tall spike from the cathedral
that stood in the center of Camsbury. Distantly a bell was ringing signaling the changing of the hour.

  Clang

  Clang

  Clang

  Clang

  Clang

  Clang

  Clang

  Clang

  Clang

  Nine times the bell tolled and nine times Landon heard it fade as the wind brought the slightest whisper to his ears. He spurred Aquila on to catch up with Mordecai. Within the hour, they would be within the walls of Camsbury.

  Chapter Three

  Lessons of Inheritance