by R A Oakes
Dark Shadow intended to run the boy as long as the little human had the strength to ride, hoping that wearing him out might help the child slip into a deep, healing sleep. The wild horses charged ahead for hours before the boy began to wilt.
Finally, Dark Shadow stopped and the boy slid off the horse’s back falling onto the ground, snuggling against the fresh grass and almost immediately dropping into a restful slumber.
The black stallion and this magnificent herd of wild horses had saved the boy’s life and sanity. This was a very important accomplishment, for in these troubled times there were no stone fortresses with high walls for humans to gather within for safety. At this stage in history, the most people could hope for was a village surrounded by a very rudimentary wooden stockade, defenses being anything but sophisticated.
This was a time before castles or organized societies. It was a time of chaos with many people attempting to fend for themselves. And with trolls prowling the countryside, even the planting and harvesting of crops was dangerous. Occasionally, people lost their lives trying to haul water back to their homes from a nearby stream. Times were perilous, to say the very least.
As Dark Shadow watched the boy sleeping, the stallion instinctively knew he had stumbled upon a child with the potential for greatness. Dark Shadow made the decision to adopt the boy and nurture him. The child’s parents were dead and who would be willing to take in a youngster who had been driven nearly insane? The stallion knew, however, that if the boy could taste the freedom and joy of running wild with them, his mind might eventually regain some sense of peace and balance.
As the child lay sleeping at Dark Shadow’s feet, the black stallion had made a wise choice. In days to come, the boy, named Dynarsis by his parents whose family name was Kardimont, would grow up to be an incredible horseman known by area villagers as “Brianuk,” meaning Lord of Horses. This was indeed a noble title, but a greater one was yet to come, for one day many would call him king. The first monarch ever. King Dynarsis “Brianuk” Kardimont.
◆◆◆
Looking over the stockade wall surrounding Woodcliff Village, located on a stream by Dead Man’s Mountain, a farmer asked, “What do you make of all those horses grazing in the fields around us?”
“All I know is they returned with Dynarsis. Poor boy, both his parents dead, it’s a horrible tragedy,” the village blacksmith replied.
“Yes, God rest their souls. There was almost nothing left of them. Just bare bones baking in the hot sun.”
“We gave them a decent burial, I guess that’s something,” the blacksmith said, feeling inadequate but having done what he could, being one of those who had collected the remains and built the coffins.
“What do you think about young Dynarsis?”
“I’m afraid the boy’s gone mad. His uncle, Thaddeus, says all Dynarsis does is rant and rave about avenging his parents. He spends his time sharpening a sword and dreaming of the day he’ll be big enough to fight trolls,” the blacksmith lamented.
“That won’t be anytime soon. How old is he, around ten?”
“Twelve. He’s small for his age.”
“No one can challenge the power of the trolls. Being outside the stockade walls is so dangerous it’s hard to tend our fields. And if we can’t harvest our crops this fall, we’ll all be starving come winter.”
“What about the band of trolls that attacked Hawthorn Village a week ago? That isn’t far from here, only a few days’ ride north on a swift horse.”
“Fortunately, the stockade wall surrounding Hawthorn Village is tall, at least taller than ours, which I’m sure helped them repel the attack. No one was killed or seriously wounded, thankfully, but it still has everyone here at Woodcliff Village pretty shaken up,” the farmer said.
“We’re not the only ones. People in surrounding villages are just as frightened.”
“But trolls never used to attack villages, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know, but it makes me feel sick to my stomach. If a pack of trolls attacks here, it might be too much for us. Our stockade isn’t as high or as strong as the one at Hawthorn Village. We need help,” the blacksmith said, feeling desperate.
“Well, here comes our young troll fighter,” the farmer said, nodding his head towards Dynarsis. The boy was approaching with his Uncle Thaddeus, a powerfully- built man over six-feet-tall, in his mid 30s with a neatly trimmed beard and long golden brown hair, which complemented his light-brown buckskin outfit. Dynarsis looked even smaller walking next to his robust uncle, but the youngster’s hair was well-groomed, and his pants and shirt were freshly washed.
“If a 12-year-old boy’s the best hope we’ve got, we’re really in trouble,” the blacksmith said, shaking his head.
“That’s a big sword he’s carrying, too bad he hasn’t the strength to wield it,” the farmer grumbled.
“Let’s just pray he doesn’t need it.”
Suddenly, the farmer pointed in the direction of the woods on the far side of a field outside the wall and asked, “Did you see that?”
“What?”
“I saw something moving behind one of the trees. Something, or someone, is lurking in the shadows.”
The blacksmith and the farmer looked at one another, each seeing the fear and apprehension in the other’s eyes.
“Thaddeus, can you see anything moving along the edge of the neighboring woods? I think I saw something step from behind a tree for a moment before disappearing behind a bush,” the farmer said, his trembling voice betraying his nervousness.
Thaddeus, a steady and levelheaded man by nature, gazed off into the distance and said, “No, I don’t see anything.”
“There’s something there,” the blacksmith insisted.
“Let’s check it out,” Dynarsis said without hesitation while unsheathing his sword.
“Not so fast, young man,” Uncle Thaddeus cautioned him. “There’s no need to go rushing into danger.”
“Someone should take a closer look,” the farmer said, beginning to panic. “You never know. What if it’s a troll? What if it’s a scout sizing up our village?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Thaddeus said slowly and pensively.
“Why not?” the farmer snapped.
“To start with, it’s rare for trolls to attack a village. And so far, they haven’t exhibited the intelligence necessary to plan and execute a successful assault on a stockade.”
“Trolls never attacked a village before, up until a few months ago. What’s changed? Why are they doing it now?” the farmer asked.
Not wanting to frighten the farmer and blacksmith any further, Thaddeus was reluctant to tell them what he’d heard, for recent visitors from Hawthorn Village had warned of a possible alliance between trolls and an evil witch.
“Maybe trolls are getting more organized,” Thaddeus said, letting it at that.
“If a troll’s scouting our village, we need to go after him before he gets away,” Dynarsis said with a sense of urgency. That Dynarsis showed no fear was something the farmer and the blacksmith quickly picked up on, making them angry with him, already being embarrassed over their own cowardice.
“If there’s any danger out there, it might be wise to stay behind the stockade wall and hope it passes us by, at least for now. If trouble’s brewing, it will find us soon enough,” Thaddeus said.
“That’s unacceptable. You need to go out there and look around,” the farmer insisted.
“Why?” Thaddeus asked.
“It’s your job.”
“It is?”
“Yes, you’re on the village council.”
“And that makes it my duty to investigate a situation that’s scaring other people half to death?” Thaddeus asked, looking at them firmly. Then, dropping his voice so Dynarsis couldn’t hear, he added, “I’ve already lost two members of my family this week. I don’t intend on losing any others.”
But Thaddeus didn’t need to be concerned about his nephew overhearing him. Dynarsi
s was already heading towards the front gate of the stockade.
“Where do you think you’re going, young man?” Thaddeus shouted.
“Let’s hunt some trolls!”
Turning back to the farmer and the blacksmith, Thaddeus said, “You should have waited until you got me alone to tell me about this. That boy has suffered enough.”
The blacksmith and the farmer looked at Thaddeus sheepishly but said nothing. Shaking his head and heaving a great sigh, Thaddeus headed after his half-crazed nephew.
◆◆◆
“Look,” Dark Shadow said, nodding his head in the direction of the stockade entrance.
“What?” the mare next to him asked listlessly.
“There’s the boy I’ve been telling you about.”
“Whose parents are dead? Killed by trolls?”
“Yes,” Dark Shadow said, watching the expression on his mate’s face carefully.
“And he heard them screaming?” his mate, Swift Arrow, asked.
“Their horses were probably first, then his father second, and his mother saved for last. It must have gone on all night long.”
“I’d have gone insane if I had to endure listening to all that.”
“Um, that’s the problem. It put him over the edge.”
“What?”
“His mind’s broken, he’s not sane.”
Looking at Dynarsis with eyes red from fatigue, Swift Arrow’s heart went out to the young boy. She, too, was suffering the devastating effects of great personal loss. Feelings of depression had been swamping her for months, ever since her young foal had been captured and killed by trolls.
“He’ll never replace my little foal. No one could ever replace my little darling.”
“I know, but the boy needs a home. Someone who understands his pain. Someone who can help keep him from going permanently over the edge.”
Swift Arrow began to weep, tears streaming down her face. “I’m going insane, myself. I can feel it. I’m losing my mind.”
“I know.”
“How long was I languishing in our home canyon?”
“You hadn’t left it for over a month. And you weren’t eating.”
“Are you certain this boy needs us?”
“Yes and very badly.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” Swift Arrow said, feeling drained at the thought of even attempting to take up her life again.
“Please at least try,” Dark Shadow said, fear readily apparent in his voice.
“Why are you frightened? I’ve never known you to be scared of anything.”
“I’m frightened that I’m losing you. Your depression’s been getting worse. You won’t eat. You usually won’t talk to me. You’ve been standing around with a blank look on your face for most of the day. If I lose you, as well as our little foal, I’ll give up. I’ll lose any reason for living.”
“You have all these horses to keep you company. They follow your every move.”
“It’s not the same as having a mare that I love with all my heart and soul. You’re all I have left. Without you, I’ll die. Please, at least go see the boy. Look him over. He has good teeth.”
“Well, that is important. What’s he doing over there now?”
“Swinging his sword all over the place.”
“I can see that. Why’s he doing it? He’s been at it for a long time.”
“This is nothing. Sometimes he does it for hours while screaming at the top of his lungs.”
“Screaming what?”
“Mindless babble, mostly, except for one thing.”
“Which is?”
“He keeps saying, over and over, ‘I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them all.’”
“Kill whom?”
“Trolls.”
Swift Arrow’s eyes opened wide, a ray of interest piercing her depression, and she saw clearly for the first time in a long while. “The boy wants to kill trolls?” the mare asked, hope filling her voice.
“It’s all he ever talks about.”
“Really? Do you think he means it?” Swift Arrow asked, her mood brightening considerably.
“He means it all right.”
“Maybe he’d avenge the death of our foal.”
“We can’t adopt him just because he wants to kill our enemy.”
“Why not?”
“Look how small he is. If he tries to kill a troll now, he’ll be dead before the week is over. He needs time to regain his sanity and to grow up.”
“You were little when you were a foal. At least so I’m told. They say you were really scrawny.”
“I’m not that way now,” Dark Shadow said a little defensively, recalling the taunts he’d endured due to his small stature.
“No, you’re not. That’s my point. The boy may be little now, but he’ll be big and strong one day.”
“That could be.”
“Then he’ll kill trolls.”
“Yes, there’d be no stopping him at that point.”
“Let’s go see our new son,” Swift Arrow said smiling.
“I can hardly believe it. You’re happy!”
“One day those trolls will feel a mother’s wrath,” Swift Arrow said with determination.
“Let’s just settle for greeting our son for now.”
“Yes, I’ll give him a big kiss on his cheek.”
“Wait till he sheathes his sword. You don’t want to end up dead before you have your revenge.”
“You think he’s that dangerous already?”
“He’s blind with anger, and he’s got a sword. I’d say he’s a danger to himself most of all.”
“With a herd of over 200 horses, we can protect him. We’ll run him to the point of exhaustion every day if we have to.”
“Just stay clear of his sword.”
“I’ve got to see him up close. My little hero!”
◆◆◆
Dynarsis was panting and sweating when Dark Shadow and Swift Arrow approached him, but he stopped fighting imaginary enemies and snapped out of his crazed trance shouting, “There might be a troll in the woods over there.”
“First sheathe your sword,” Uncle Thaddeus said, thankful that his nephew was aware enough of his environment to notice the approaching herd of horses. Then, once Dynarsis had obeyed, Dark Shadow knelt down, and the boy climbed onto his back.
“If a troll was over there, we would have caught his scent, don’t you think?” Swift Arrow asked Dark Shadow, neighing in different ways and tones, in a complex series of sounds comprising horse language.
“Yes, but let the boy have his fun.”
“Thundercloud. The boy’s name is Thundercloud,” Swift Arrow said firmly.
“You’ve named him already?”
“Yes, and it fits his temperament.”
“That’s true.”
Excited that Swift Arrow had accepted the boy so quickly, and after Thaddeus had patted Dark Shadow on his powerful neck, the black stallion charged across the open field pretending he was bearing down on a terrible enemy. Dark Shadow was galloping full tilt and was pleased and proud that Dynarsis had no trouble staying on. As for Dynarsis, his hair was blowing in the wind, and he was in his glory shouting, “Death to all trolls!”
Dark Shadow and Swift Arrow, with over 200 wild horses behind them, came right up to the edge of the woods and stopped, nostrils flaring and checking for even the slightest scent of a troll. But there was none.
“I smell a cow,” Swift Arrow said, who had a particularly acute sense of smell.
“You’re sure that’s all?” Dark Shadow asked.
“Yes, one cow,” she answered in horse language.
“Eehhheh?” the boy asked, imitating the neighing of a horse while pointing at a cow that had just emerged from the trees and was making its way towards them.
Completely taken by surprise, Dark Shadow looked at Swift Arrow and asked, “Did Thundercloud just use the correct word for cow?”
“Maybe it was a lucky coincidence,”
Swift Arrow said, never having known a human before who could speak their language.
“Eehhheh?” the boy asked again, neighing like a horse.
“Yes, a cow,” Dark Shadow said, looking at the boy in wonder and marveling at his keen intelligence.
Dynarsis slipped off Dark Shadow’s back and stood facing his new father and mother. Pointing to himself, Dynarsis neighed again, this time asking, “Ihhhi?”
Glancing at each other, Dark Shadow and Swift Arrow could hardly believe their ears, Dynarsis having just referred to himself correctly using the word for boy.
“Yes, boy,” the stallion agreed. “You are a boy.”
“Yiiieh?” Dynarsis asked, using the correct word for troll while pointing into the woods.
“I think he’s asking if there’s a troll in the woods,” Dark Shadow said to his mate in disbelief.
“Tell him no before he goes off on a rampage hacking at trees.”
Dark Shadow moved his head from side to side while saying, “Sorry, no trolls.”
Both of Thundercloud’s new parents watched in alarm as the boy’s eyes clouded over and madness crept into them. “Stand back!” Dark Shadow warned.
With a wild scream, Dynarsis unsheathed his sword and ran into the woods, refusing to be denied his chance to confront his mortal enemy. “I hate trolls,” he shouted as he flailed away with his sword at bushes, trees, plants, falling leaves, and just about anything that moved. But finally his anger subsided and the tears began to flow. He cried and cried over the savage way his human parents had died.
Unable to stop the torrent of emotions swamping him, he flung his sword to the ground, put his hands over his eyes and sobbed uncontrollably.
Right at that moment, the boy’s Uncle Thaddeus caught up to them, having run on his own across the entire width of the field. It seems none of the wild horses had offered him a ride, and he was wise enough not to try to mount one uninvited.
Standing a safe distance from Dynarsis, Thaddeus patted Dark Shadow on his muscular neck and said, “You may have just saved this boy’s life. Up until now, he hadn’t shed a single tear over the death of his parents. I wonder how you got him to open up.”
