by Jordan Baker
“Well, Aaron, I suppose you can visit Brian for a spell,” Tarnath told him. "Then we'll head on to Ashford, see the blacksmith and the cooper. They’re going to be mighty impressed with the work you have done for them.” Tarnath smiled as he popped his empty pipe into his mouth and thoughtfully chewed at the mouthpiece.
“Will the spring festival be happening?" Aaron asked, hoping that it was. "It is usually sometime around now." Life was fairly uneventful out in the country and while Aaron always jumped at the chance to go to town, the festivals that marked the four seasons always made for an adventure.
“Making plans already, are ye? If I'm not mistaken, it might just be. At any rate, we’d best be off early in the morning. I’ve got to remind meself to get some tobacco for this thing.” He looked at his pipe thoughtfully.
They left before sunrise, Aaron on horseback and Tarnath driving a team of two horses pulling the wagon they had loaded with the metal work that was to be delivered. By mid-day, they neared the familiar rolls in the hills and natural landmarks that told them they were nearing Jacob’s farm and Aaron spurred on ahead to find his friend Brian. By the time Tarnath pulled in with his cart, Jacob and his son were already climbing down from the roof of the barn, where they had been working on some spring repairs.
“Master Tarnath, I trust you’re well,” Jacob greeted him.
“Got a bit of fight left in me yet Jacob.” Tarnath grinned from behind the empty pipe in his mouth then turned to the man’s son. “Brian, I see farm life is treatin' you well. Gettin' big too!”
“Pa’s been working me real hard this year. He’s getting old and my brothers are still young, so I get to do all the heavy lifting,” Brian said with a laugh. His voice was also noticeably deeper than it had been the last time Aaron had seen him. His friend had most definitely grown. Even though he was a couple years younger than Aaron, once they had both gotten to the age when boys began to grow, Brian had quickly become the bigger of the two. He was a burly young man, and the work on the farm showed in his heavily muscled frame, much bigger than his father, Jacob, who was of a more modest build.
“I don’t know how he got so big,” Jacob commented. “Must take after his mother’s side. Her brother’s a big lug too.”
“Or maybe it’s his mother’s cooking. She always did make a fine meal,” Tarnath said as Jacob’s wife, Mariel appeared at the door of the farmhouse and walked toward them.
“Master Tarnath!” she exclaimed. “Lovely to see you after such a long winter.”
“Always a joy to see you too, Mariel,” Tarnath said with a respectful tilt of his head.
“Where are your brothers?” Aaron asked Brian.
“Who knows? They’re always up to something. Busy on some new project to make the farm run better. Diller thinks he’s someday going to own all the land from here to Ashford and Jake keeps trying to invent new ways to plow the fields. Farming. It’s their life and they’re ambitious about it.” Brian shrugged then asked his father, “Have you seen the twins pa?”
“I just put them to work, clearing out the root cellar,” Mariel answered. “Brian, why don’t you bring Aaron down and see if you can help the boys get their chores done early.”
“Yes ma’am,” Brian said dutifully, then punched Aaron in the shoulder. “Let’s go find those two runts.”
Jacob and his wife watched as the two boys, now practically grown men ran off toward the house and Tarnath silently watched the expressions on their faces. They were proud parents and they loved their children dearly. Jacob and Mariel had always been kind and generous to him and Aaron over the years. Good people, genuine folk, Tarnath thought, and he liked them a lot, but he noticed something else in their eyes, as though they were troubled.
“Tarnath,” Jacob turned to him with a serious look. “We need to talk.”
“What’s on yer mind, Jacob?”
“It’s my lad, Brian. He’s got some fool notion of goin' off to become a fighting man. He’s got it in his head that he wants to be some kind of hero like in the stories.”
“A hero, huh?” Tarnath raised an eyebrow, skeptically.
“He’s got the bug to go, and I don’t think he’s going to stay round more than another harvest or so.” Jacob sighed and clenched his hands and Tarnath could tell his thoughts were weighing heavily upon him.
“When did the lad suddenly get interested in killing folks and making wars?” he asked.
“I don’t think he’s thought that part through yet. He got talkin' to some of Lord Kaleb’s men at the tavern in town last year during the harvest festival. They told him all sorts of stories about this city and that place, how they travel and such, meeting lords and doing battle. It’s the same as what happened with my brother, Will.
“In the days when he used to come visit us, I made him promise not to tell the boys how he made his living. It all sounds very grand but I could tell from the look in my own brother’s eyes that it was a hard life. I tried to protect my boys from that world but it didn’t help. I turned around for only a moment and there Brian was, talking with a couple of Lord Kaleb’s men eating up tales of crazed battles and fair maidens, all that sort of rubbish that gets a fool killed.”
“So Brian wants to become a soldier, does he?” Tarnath commented more to himself than to Jacob. He shook his head pensively as the farmer continued.
“It’s all he talked about all winter long. I had to make him promise to keep his ideas from the younger boys. I don’t want them all running off to get killed. And, just to make things worse, I hear there’s now trouble brewing,” Jacob told him. Mariel’s expression had grown more concerned as her husband spoke and she aired her fears as well.
“Some soldiers passed through here a few days ago, on their way to join up with Lord Kaleb," she said. "They claimed there might be a war brewing with the Xallan Empire. I don’t pretend to know what the Lords are about but it’s looking to be serious. They’ve got kingsmen from the city of Maramyr all over the countryside looking to recruit boys just like my Brian. You see the problem?”
“Well Jacob, Mariel, I see the problem but I don’t know quite how to help you.”
“Well, me and the missus were thinking you could talk to the boy. Let him know how hard a life it is and that it isn’t all fun and glory. We know he looks up to you, and he might listen if you tell him, on account that you used to be a soldier,” Jacob said. Tarnath was not sure if his words of warning would make much difference if Brian was already set on the soldier's life, but if the young man was going to go down that road, it would be better that he knew what he was getting into.
“Once a soldier, always a soldier,” he said, thinking of the battles he had seen in his younger days, the memories of which now made him feel very old. “I’ll talk to him, but if he’s determined to go, he’ll go. Such is the way of things. You know that.”
“We do,” Jacob said. “We already think he will go anyway, but it’s worth trying to talk some sense into him. We’re grateful already that you taught him the things you did last year, though it was for defending the farm. If he goes off to war, then he'll need every skill.”
The previous summer, Jacob had asked if Tarnath would take Brian up to the steading for a time and let him train with Aaron, learning the basics of fighting. Mariel had been against it, but there had already been rumors of trouble in the countryside, and Jacob was something of a pragmatist. He knew that Brian was likely to get involved in any fighting if it broke out in the lands near where they lived. That was just the kind of boy Brian was. Tarnath considered it a wise decision on Jacob’s part to see his son learn a thing or two, even if the purpose was to defend the family farm from brigands, who always showed up during times of strife. Tarnath nodded thoughtfully. Jacob and his wife Mariel were sensible folk, who knew the things they could control and knew the things they could not.
“I’ll do my best to put the fear of steel into him,” Tarnath assured them and deftly whipped a dagger from his sleeve, twirled it in
the air then caught it again. “And if he won’t listen to reason, I’ll teach him a few things that might keep him from harm’s way.” Tarnath winked at the farmer and the dagger disappeared again from his hand.
“Thank you, Tarnath. We’re grateful for all that you’ve done for us already,” Jacob told him.
“Nonsense,” Tarnath said with a smile. “Mariel makes the best blackberry pies in all the land and with that as my reward, you need a favor from me, all you have to do is ask!”
Mariel smiled at the compliment. She felt a little better knowing that Tarnath would look out for her son.
“I take it you’re going into town for the Spring Festival?” she asked.
“That we are,” Tarnath replied.
“We were planning to go tomorrow, but if the boys are finished with the cellar, then there’s no reason we shouldn’t all go together,” Jacob said.
“Always happy for the company of good folks, especially one as lovely and charming as your wife, Jacob,” Tarnath said and smiled at them both.
“Oh, you old devil,” Mariel said. “I’ll leave you men to catch up and go see how the boys are coming along with their chores.”
Jacob pulled a leather pouch out of his pocket unrolled it, revealing his own pipe. He took a pinch of the brown leaf and tossed Tarnath the pouch. Inside, there was just enough leaf for him as well, and he smiled at the man's generosity.
“Thank you, very kindly,” he said and stuffed the pipe then fumbled around in his pocket for his flint.
As the two men smoked and talked of recent news, Tarnath wondered about what Jacob had told him. If soldiers from the city were already recruiting through the countryside, then things were definitely brewing up quickly. Over the past few years, he had heard good things about Lord Kaleb whose lands served as the frontier between those that swore fealty to the throne of Maramyr, and those of the Xallan Empire to the east. Maramyr was a great kingdom that spanned from the northern mountain ranges that bordered the lands of Kandara, to the Ansari deserts in the south and from the Xallan reaches in the east all the way to the impenetrable dark and forbidden Elven forests in the west. Tarnath had devoted most of his life and all of his years as a soldier to the defense of the lands of Maramyr, keeping the peace between the nobles, and he knew it the signs of war very well. If the Xallans were indeed planning a campaign, it would bode very ill for this entire region, which was almost directly in the path between the two lands.
The Xallans had always been territorially ambitious but had long been respectful of Maramyrian borders and they had not attacked Maramyr in almost a generation. Even then, it had been a short-lived campaign, one in which Tarnath had fought when he was a much younger man, but that battle had not been won with steel alone. The war had been ended through the actions of the old King, with help from powerful friends who worked to stop the tide of war before it engulfed both the lands. He knew that the Xallan Empire was a strange and mysterious land with many legions of soldiers, but their internal politics were constantly changing and so was their resolve for war. For generations, whatever problems there had been with the Xallans in the past they were usually handled by representatives of the Council of Mages, who had long served the nobles, working at diplomatic solutions, while rarely becoming directly involved. Such had long been the way of mages, but the Council no longer held sway in Maramyr and had been all but disbanded years ago, and Tarnath wondered who might dispel the tensions now, if war threatened to rise again, without the wise guidance of the Council.
Tarnath had not thought about that collection of magically gifted men and women for some years. After the death of King Gregory and Queen Aria, the mages had fallen into disarray amid accusations that magic had been involved in the demise of the king and queen. The king’s brother Cerric had become Regent and his first act was to banish the Council members from the crown city of Maramyr and it was not long before mages were unwelcome in most parts of the kingdom. Eventually, that tide had turned but things had changed from the old ways. The last Tarnath had heard, a new priesthood had risen among many of the mages, and its members had been working their way into positions of power all over the kingdom over recent years.
The old armsmaster scowled when he remembered that King Gregory’s brother Cerric, was Regent in Maramyr. By law, Cerric ruled the kingdom until his niece, the princess Ariana, would be old enough to take the throne, which should be soon. Tarnath remembered Cerric from his own days at Maramyr and recalled how he had never been particularly impressed with the man. Tarnath had always though there was something sneaky about him, something he could not trust, but as far as he could tell, he had ruled the Maramyrian kingdom efficiently and kept the peace over the years, for the most part. Still, if there was a chance that the Xallan Empire was on the move, then not just Cerric, but the kingdom of Maramyr and its people would soon be tested. Tarnath did not relish the thought of the hardships that such a course of events would bring to regular folks like Jacob and his family. The two men spoke for a time, and the boys returned shortly, finished their chores and eager to go into the nearby town.
*****
On the road to Ashford, Aaron and Brian rode ahead of the two wagons that respectively carried Tarnath and the rest of Brian’s family. The boys told them they would ride vanguard to make sure the road was safe. Brian was armed only with his large hunting knife and he jealously eyed the sword and scabbard that hung from Aaron’s belt. He had only held a real sword once, when Tarnath had taught the boys the basics of weaponry one summer a few years back, and let each of them hold a sword in their hand, to feel the weight of it and to test the sharpness of the blade. He then wrapped it back up in the oiled leather that protected it and put it away.
When Tarnath had given him the sword, Aaron had not thought much of it, as he had been busy trying to defend himself at the time, but Brian was very much taken with the blade and wished he had one. Aaron was willing to let him carry it for a while, but Brian had suggested they should ride ahead, up the road a ways, out of sight from his parents.
“So, he gave it to you to keep?” Brian asked, hefting the steel blade.
“I suppose he did,” Aaron said.
“That’s a real honor. A guy like Tarnath, who was royal armsmaster of Maramyr, gave you a sword. Was there a ceremony? Did you kneel or something like that?”
Aaron knew from the many books he had read as part of the studies Tarnath made him do, that his friend was thinking of a ceremony where a lord or a king would grant someone a title. He did not think that there were too many ceremonies about the granting of swords. As far as he knew, they were usually handed out at armories when war was afoot, or in some cases, they were made especially by a master armorer, a smith who specialized in making quality weapons, armor and other implements of battle. He felt badly about dispelling Brian’s notions but he also did not want his friend to have the wrong impression of such things.
“No,” Aaron told him. “He told me to pick it up and I did.”
“That's all?”
“I think you are mistaking being knighted with getting a sword,” Aaron said.
“Oh,” Brian said, a slight frown crossing his face. But then he brightened up and hefted the sword in the air. “One day I’ll have a sword like this and I’ll be a knight.”
“You think so?” Aaron asked.
“That’s my plan,” Brian told him.
“But what about your folks, and the farm?” Aaron asked.
Before they had met up with each other, Tarnath had mentioned his talk with Brian’s parents and had and asked him to do what he could to help discourage Brian from running off to become a soldier. Aaron had read enough history books to know a little more about the dangers of fighting. When they were working the small forge and the old man would his shirt off, he was regularly reminded of the dangers of war by the ugly scars across his uncle's back and torso, ugly and twisted marks that he had earned through years of fighting, more than one of which, Tarnath had told him, had nearl
y killed him. As much as Aaron was not particularly fearful of things and thought that if he was ever attacked, he would not be afraid to fight back, he did not wish to see anyone he cared about have to endure the kinds of pains and horrors that Tarnath had seen. Sometimes, when Tarnath’s mind would wander back to the battles he had fought, Aaron saw a look on his face that was terribly grim, a look that was in sharp contrast to the expression of excited wonderment that Brian now wore.
“You know, Aaron, do you ever wonder about what it's like out there, beyond the next town?”
“Beyond Ashford? More trees I’d imagine,” Aaron said with a shrug.
“No, no, like what other towns and cities and different sorts of people are out there and what they're like.” Brian tossed the sword back to Aaron, who caught it easily and retied its scabbard to his belt. Brian pulled out his knife and halved an apple that he took from his pocket, one of the few that had survived the winter. He tossed a piece to Aaron, who mused about the many things he had learned from his books and from Tarnath's stories over the years.
“Well, I know that southwest of here is the crown city of Maramyr. That’s the center of the kingdom. Far to the south is a great desert, which is said to be the hottest place in the world. It goes all the way to the sea, a little to the west, out among the waves, there’s an island called Meer where the people are all pirates, brigands of the sea, who sail around the ocean attacking other ships and stealing their treasure. There is also the mountain kingdom of Kandara to the north and the forests of Elvanar, far to the west. There are lots of places out there.”
“I want to see them all,” Brian said as he crunched the rest of his apple and spit out the seeds. “How come you know so much about the world? You and Tarnath never leave that cottage of yours except to come here or go to Ashford. I know about Maramyr. Everyone knows about the Crown City, and there's the lands of the Xallan Empire to the east of here, which you forgot about, but an island of pirates? Are you making that stuff up?”
