Fall of a Kingdom

by Michael Greenfield

  “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.” Cal looked confused. “Master Farsighter was right about the attitude of the army to the Rangers, and the nobility, but not the common people. To them, the Rangers are the stuff of legend.

  Don’t under estimate what Farsighter told you. A Rangers life is not an easy one, and you would probably not see myself or your brother for many years if you decide to go, but I have to admit that I would be very proud of you if you decide for this path.”

  Cal was completely taken aback. His failures of the afternoon were completely forgotten, which was one side effect that he had not expected. He was even more surprised when a few seconds later his brother walked through the door, and was promptly ordered to take the rabbits from him and start to prepare supper.

  “I suggest that you head back to your field for a while and think about what you have been asked this evening. Making one meal this week won’t cause your brother permanent harm.” The look on Eldur’s face suggested differently, but he remained silent. Obviously something had happened that he was totally unaware of. Cal only nodded.

  “I’ll keep your supper warm for you. Take as long as you need.”

  Cal waved his acknowledgement as he stepped through the door and headed down the street outside. Several villagers greeted him as he strode past, but he hardly noticed them at all. He didn’t even notice that he had reached the field until he stumbled over a molehill.

  He sat down hard, then leaned back and stared up at the darkening sky. It had sounded too fantastic to credit when he had first heard the suggestion made, but now that he started to think harder about it, he was beginning to realise just what a big leap it would be. Leaving the only home he had known for seventeen years to step out into the wide world and try and become a part of something that he had only heard of in tales.

  The stars were just appearing when he heard the faintest sound of grass being flattened.

  “Master Farsighter.” It was not a question.

  “Oh you are good young Master Ironsson, very good. But you should not wait for someone to get this close without either checking out who they are or making sure that you are hidden from them.”

  They both lay there for a while; neither speaking until Cal finally asked the one question that was on his mind. “What is it like?”

  “Living as a Ranger?”

  “Yes.”

  “It will be the hardest thing that you have ever done, but it will also be the most alive that you will ever feel. There is a bond amongst the Rangers that can never be broken. If you manage to join them you will never lack for a family, no matter where you find yourself.”

  “How old were you when you joined?”

  “Eighteen. It is rare that they would take anyone younger.”

  “But…”

  “You are only seventeen summers. I know. You have the potential, but it will be up to you as to whether that will be enough.” A cloud passed in front of the quarter moon as two sets of eyes followed it. “You’ve already decided haven’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Cal stayed lying there for another ten minutes. He never heard Farsighter get up, but when he turned round there was no one in the field except himself.

  Cal awoke at the sound of a cockerel somewhere in the village. He had not spoken whilst he ate his supper after returning to the house, and neither his father nor his brother had interrupted him. The look on his father’s face had told him that he had guessed at his decision, but even so he would not say anything until Cal wanted him to.

  He had gone to bed almost as soon as he had finished eating and was surprised that no one had woken him before the cockerel. His brother would have already been in the forge for a good hour getting the coals stoked and hot enough to work with. His father would not have been far behind.

  When he got down to the kitchen he saw some bread and a piece of cheese covered by cloth sat on a plate on the table. He picked up the cheese and left the house for the forge.

  He had been right about what his brother would have been doing, but he was surprised to see his father was not there.

  “Eldur, where’s Da?”

  His brother looked up from the coals. “He said that he had something to fetch before you left this morning. I still can’t believe what he told me last night. You’re really going aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” Like all brothers, Eldur had bullied Cal when he was younger, but he still felt uncomfortable now that the time was nearly here for him to leave. “I’m going to miss you brother.”

  “Me to, but I think that that is mainly because I now have to work all day and then make the even meal when I’ve finished.” They both laughed, and then jumped as a deeper laugh joined them from the entrance to the forge. Their father stood watching them, in his hand was a long, thin, leather wrapped bundle. He lifted it up toward Cal.

  “This belonged to your great-grandfather. No one else in the family ever had a need to use it, but I think that you might have a use now.”

  Cal took the bundle and carefully unwrapped it. As he took it out of the leather he found himself holding a pale, misty white bow. The three strings in the packaging shone a silvery colour and were attached to the inside of an equally misty coloured quiver containing perhaps two dozen silvery arrows.

  “What is it?”

  “A ‘Lighter’ bow.”

  “Lighter? The People of the East?”

  “Elves to most of us.” This time all three jumped at the voice from behind them. Farsighter grinned at the reaction.

  “I’ve heard of Shalers, there are some in the mountains near Needle Lake, but the Lighters are just a legend.” Even as he spoke the words Cal could not take his eyes off of the bow.

  “They are no legend, although I never thought to see some of their work this far to the west. Perhaps when I return, your father would indulge my curiosity with a story.”

  “Gladly Master Farsighter, and quite a story it is.”

  Beginnings

  The goodbyes had been swift once Farsighter had arrived. He had brought provisions with him to last for several days, which added to the provisions Cal himself knew to be in his pack already, even though it was only three days to the next village along the road eastward. Cal’s father had also given him a new hunting knife to replace the one that he had been using for nearly three years now. It was not ornate, but the balance of the blade and handle was such that he could easily use it to throw if needed. His brother gave him a pair of bucklers that he had made a few weeks previously as part of his apprenticeship work.

  There was a winged pattern imprinted on them, and they fit his wrists almost perfectly. After he had received this gift he had to make the goodbyes swift for fear that he would start to cry. Not the kind of thing he wanted them to remember him by. He really wanted to be remembered by his family as a real man as he set off into the world, so he had hurriedly made his farewells before joining Farsighter outside.

  Farsighter stood waiting out on the street where several curious pairs of eyes regarded the fact that he stood with a travel pack across his shoulder and his own leather wrapped bow across the other. Cal was surprised that the woodsman had not brought a horse and said as much. His own grey was all tackled and ready by the side of the house. Farsighter had just grinned.

  “Rangers don’t use horses as a rule, too noisy.”

  “But, how do you get from one end of the land to the other?”

  “Ship, if the distances are so great. Otherwise we travel on foot. You can miss signs of the enemy if you are sat atop a horse, much better chance of seeing something if you’re down a bit lower.”

  That had been the last words that Farsighter had spoken as he turned to face the road out of the village, and set off at a fast walk. Once Cal had settled his own pack and bow across his back and caught up with the older man they had started a gentle run. The pace of the run picked up until they were both holding a steady, but quick pace as t
hey covered the ground ahead.

  They kept this pace up for about half an hour before slowing down to the fast walk that had been set to begin with. Cal was out of breath when they slowed from the first run, but he easily regained it as they walked. Then, after an hour at the brisk pace, they started to run again. Once more they ran for half an hour before slowing to a walk, and the pattern continued as the sun rose on its steady course across the sky.

  As it reached its zenith, Farsighter spoke for the first time that morning.

  “We’ll break at that copse up ahead.” He pointed toward a small group of trees just off of the road and Cal nodded. It only took a few minutes to reach the trees and they quickly sat in the shadow of one of the larger ones.

  “That routine, walking and then running all the time. That’s why you don’t need horses?”

  Farsighter smiled. “I didn’t say that we did not need horses, only that we don’t normally use them. But yes, that is how we travel without them. It’s only slightly slower than horseback and we don’t have to worry as much about the terrain that we are crossing.” He pulled out a lump of cheese from his pack as he spoke and began to eat. “How did you find the pace?”

  “Tough at first, but I can manage.”

  “Good. Once you enter training you will be expected to be able to keep to half an hour of each. Not quite so long to regain your breath.”

  “And that is another reason why you did not want to bring horses. You want to start my training before we reach the Royal Garrison at Bor’a.” Bor’a was the seat of the King, the capital of Boraan.

  “It would do you no harm to get a head start.” Farsighter grinned. “In truth, every Ranger that brings a new recruit to the Pack starts their training on the road. That way there is less chance of them being embarrassed by their protégés.”

  Cal laughed. “And even more so when their protégés are as young as I.”

  “Cal, I’ll not lie to you. You have a talent and unnatural good sense for one so young, and you would do me proud if you made it as a Ranger. But I will not allow you to make a fool of me. If at any time I believe that you are not capable of what I think you are, then we will return to Fallon’s Glen immediately, no argument or discussion.”

  The mood sobered for a moment, before Farsighter carried on. “But if you put yourself to the task at hand, I have a feeling that you could become one of the best for quite some time. Don’t worry about that going to your head, I’ll make sure that you’re too busy for vanity over the next few weeks.” With a smile he finished off the cheese, took a swig of water from one of the skins that they carried, and then stood.

  Cal groaned. They had only been sat for ten minutes.

  The pace continued throughout the rest of the day until the sun finally began to set in the west. The countryside in the area was mainly long, rolling hills, so the pace had not been that difficult for Cal to maintain, although he did note that Farsighter appeared as fresh as he had that morning when they set off.

  A small outcropping of sandstone in the side of one of the hills provided the evening’s shelter and Cal was quickly set the task of gathering some firewood whilst Farsighter went looking for the game that appeared as the sun got low. Shortly he had a small blaze going and Farsighter appeared soon after with a brace of rabbits. After skinning and cleaning them, they were spitted and placed over the fire.

  Farsighter then headed for his pack and pulled out a leather wrapped package similar to Cal’s, although Cal noticed that Farsighter actually had two such packages. The one he had taken off of the pack was the shorter of the two.

  He quickly removed the oiled leather and then handed Cal the sword. It was the first sword that Cal had ever seen; no one in Fallon’s Glen had needed one. Occasional troubles with small bands of robbers were easily solved with good bows and a variety of farm implements that probably scared the thieves more than a sword would.

  Cal lifted the blade so that it caught the light of the fire. It almost seemed to dance in the flickering. He was surprised at how light it felt, until he realised that that was because of the balance of the blade and hilt. He made a few experimental cutting movements with the blade and immediately found that it was not as easy as he had thought it would be in his daydreams. Although it was well balanced, the weight of the blade carried considerable momentum when he swung it and he looked clumsy in his attempt to sweep it round.

  Farsighter suppressed a smile. “When we reach Holdur we will purchase a blade for you to begin training with. It will mean losing an hour of travel each day, and I’m sure that you will be devastated by that news.” Cal grinned. “But it is a skill that you will need to learn. Better to start as soon as we can, and Holdur is the first place that we’re likely to find a swordsmith of any calibre. No offence intended to your father, but he would admit himself that his own experience doesn’t extend to weaponry.”

  Cal nodded his agreement before a sudden thought occurred to him. “But I have no money to pay for a sword.”

  “We’ll work out the repayment when the time comes.”

  Cal was not so sure about the wisdom of accepting such an arrangement, but he had no real alternative so he just nodded his head.

  “Why do you carry it wrapped instead of in a scabbard?”

  Farsighter smiled again. “Because it’s bloody awkward to run with one of those things slapping your leg.” Both Farsighter and Cal laughed at the answer.

  It was not long before the rabbit was ready and they both ate in silence. After they had eaten, Cal pestered Farsighter with questions about his own experiences with the Rangers but it was only a short while before he felt his eyelids begin to droop. He pulled his bedroll out from where it had been tied to the bottom of his pack and quickly dozed off.

  He awoke to the smell of oatcakes sizzling and for a moment thought that the previous day had been nothing but another of his dreams. When he opened his eyes though, he saw Farsighter already sat by the fire, preparing the oatcakes in a small pan that he had produced from somewhere in his pack.

  “Morning.” Cal looked around and realised that the sun must only just be over the horizon.

  “Morning. You’re a heavy sleeper, a habit that you’re going to have to get out of.”

  Cal had never thought of himself as a heavy sleeper, but seeing that Farsighter must have passed him several times whilst gathering wood and preparing breakfast, he could not deny the observation.

  He quickly wrapped his bedroll up and replaced it at the bottom of his pack before sitting beside the fire and accepting some of the oatcakes. Clouds were beginning to gather on the horizon and it was obvious that they were not going to get the fine weather that they had enjoyed the previous day.

  Thinking on this he noted that Farsighter had produced a cloak from his own pack. It was a faded dark green in colour, and appeared to have a slight glisten to it. Farsighter noticed his gaze and lifted it over for him to have a closer look at.

  “It’s waxed. Makes it waterproof in the same way that you tar the bottom of a boat.”

  “Makes sense when you think of it, why are there not more of these around?”

  “Most people have the sense to get in out of the rain, so I guess that they don’t need these. I bet that Old Man Fallon has one though, for when he gets caught out by a storm whilst tending the flocks.”

  Cal grinned. “Let me guess. This is going to be one of those lessons where I end up very uncomfortable by the end of it, but never forget.”

  Looking at where the dark clouds were rolling across the horizon Farsighter grinned back. “Quite possibly Master Ironsson, quite possibly.”

  Their second day on the road was miserable. The rain started after they had only been moving for two hours and continued to steadily fall from the sky throughout the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. The midday stop had been another brief affair under the cover of a small bush, scarcely large enough to provide shelter for the two travellers.

  By late afternoon, Cal was beg
inning to worry about where they would be stopping for the night. He had travelled this way a couple of times, as his aunt and uncle lived in the village of Gellda, their goal for the first three days on the road, but he had never really paid that much attention to the surrounding land as they had travelled. As the gloom began to gather, Farsighter led the pair away from the road and toward a nearby hill.

  As they rounded the bottom of the slope Cal saw the remains of an old shepherds hut. It wasn’t much to look at, but some of the roof was still intact and would provide cover during the night.

  “I’m glad you knew this was here.”

  “So am I. It always pays to know your surroundings, especially when the weather deteriorates as it has done.” He scanned the sky once again. “I didn’t think that there was much point in our going on when I knew that this was here, and the next shelter is probably Gellda.

  We’ve still got a bit of daylight, so why don’t you try and find some dead wood caught in a lea somewhere. If we’re lucky you should still be able to find enough to get a cooking fire going, even if it won’t last long for heat.”

  Cal quickly found a dry spot inside the ruined hut to place his pack and then began to search for wood. In the end it proved a fruitless task as none of the small areas that had been protected from the rain held concealed sticks that could be used for the fire. Dejectedly he returned to Farsighter and slumped down onto the cold ground.

  “Nothing?”

  “I found several spots where wood would have stayed dry if there had been any, but it was almost as if someone had already checked them.”

  “Oh?” Farsighter stood and quickly moved to the broken down doorway. He stood for several minutes staring into the gathering dark before returning to stand by Cal. “Get your bow ready.”

  The words were spoken softly, but Cal still felt a shiver run the length of his spine. Wordlessly he complied with the order, marvelling at the smoothness of the Elven wrought wood that made the weapon as he placed the string loosely over one end before attaching it to the other. Bracing the end where the string was already in position between his feet, he used the strength of his legs to bend the length so that the loose end could be slid over its notch. As soon as that was done he experimentally drew the bow to get a feel for the draw weight. A bit heavier than his own had been, but not by much.