He would wait one more day and, if Lonny did not show, he would set off. That day came and went and as Ballorn closed up, he reached beneath the counter and took out the sign that he had prepared earlier. Placing it on the counter, he huffed. That’ll give ‘em something to moan about, he thought as he looked at his handiwork.
CLOSED ALL DAY
URGENT BUSINESS
Ballorn chuckled, if anyone wanted to complain, they would have to wait until his return.
The following morning, Ballorn pulled the strap on his shoulder a little tighter as he wriggled to get the axe to sit squarely between his shoulder blades. Leaving the village he hadn’t ventured from for more than a few hours at a time in many years, he headed down the trail as the sun began to rise. He paused, staring around the woods with a sense of freedom. He was devoted to his work and always felt a little lost when he was away from his forge. Yet today felt strangely different. Ballorn was actually enjoying the clean air as he listened to the birds singing and breathed in the fresh smell of the dew-covered grass. Clutching his home-made map, he turned along a smaller dirt track and followed it downhill. A nice morning stroll by the stream, he thought, that’ll make a change from the smell of smoke and molten metal.
It was roughly mid-day and Ballorn, beginning to feel more than a little peckish, plonked himself down on a convenient tree stump. Fresh air has given me quite an appetite, he thought. Reaching into his pack he pulled out a loaf and a small lump of meat he had left over from the night before. It can’t be much farther now, he thought. I should be there within the hour. Glad that he had had the foresight to bring some lunch with him, he wolfed it down with relish. It could have been quite embarrassing trying to explain to Lonny the fine detail he had so lovingly applied if his stomach was rumbling. He was a businessman after all and, although he could at times be a little blunt with his customers, he always tried to uphold a sense of propriety.
It was then that he noticed how quiet the forest had become. He was some distance from the stream now, so it was no surprise that he could no longer hear the trickling water. The thing that he found most strange of all was the fact that he could no longer hear the birds singing.
He shrugged his shoulders. Ah well, what do I know? he thought, getting to his feet. Maybe this is what the countryside is like now.
As he walked, he started to notice even more things that, to him, seemed a little odd. Up ahead, there was a break in the trees that seemed most peculiar. A patch of ground roughly a hundred feet across was completely barren. Not so much as a blade of grass could be seen on the ground that seemed scorched as if a huge fire had raged there. What in blazes could have done this? he thought. He started to chuckle to himself, scorched ground, blazes, I made a funny. He had made light of it but, truth be told, for some reason it gave him a sense of unease. He dug his heel into the ground.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone, you know. It’s not safe.”
Alarmed by the voice, Ballorn spun around, “Who’s there?” he yelled. “Show yourself!”
“Why?” came the reply. “Is it necessary for you to see me for us to converse?”
“No, but it’s difficult to trust someone if they choose to remain hidden. I warn you, I’ve got an axe that could cleave you in two, so if you’re looking for trouble, you’ll get more than you bargained for.”
The voice laughed gently, “I’m sure I would, but trust me, I have no intention of harming you, stranger,” it said. “As for you hurting me… well, let’s just say that would not be as easy as you may think.”
“You must be up to some sort of mischief or you wouldn’t be hiding!”
“Oh, I have a good reason for remaining hidden,” came the reply. “A reason that you would not understand I’m afraid. My anonymity will keep our conversation amicable I assure you.”
Ballorn’s eyes darted from tree to tree, hoping to catch sight of who was speaking. They were sparse, leaving very few possible hiding places. He even considered that the stranger could have concealed himself behind the rocks at the foot of the mountain to his right but dismissed the idea immediately. They were too far away for him to be able to hear any voice clearly from that distance. “Do you know anything about the ground being burned over there?” he asked tentatively. “Did you do it?”
“No,” came the abrupt reply. “But I know who did, and I would suggest you leave this place lest he return.”
“Can’t do that,” said Ballorn, bluntly, “I’ve got some business to take care of and I won’t be leaving until I’m done.”
“Business?” asked the voice, obviously intrigued by Ballorn’s statement. “What business could you have…?” There was a brief pause, “Ah, you’re looking for the farmer, aren’t you?”
Ballorn took a step back, “Farmer? What farmer? I never said anything about a farmer!” he spluttered, unconvincingly.
“In that case I can only surmise that you came to see me. How pleasant, I’ve not had a visitor for years!” mocked the voice.
“Why would I have come to see you? I don’t even know who you are!” exclaimed Ballorn. “And my business is none of your concern, so I suggest you keep your nose out of it!”
“My apologies, stranger, I did not mean to pry. It’s just that you look to defend yourself with an axe which is still firmly strapped to your back. That tells me that it does not belong to you and that your intent is to deliver it to another. Add that to the fact that the farmer, apart from myself of course, is the only one within many leagues of this place and it is the only feasible conclusion that anyone could make. The farmer commissioned you to make an axe for him and you are dutifully delivering it!”
“So, you think you’re clever, do you?” spouted Ballorn. “Well, like I said, it’s none of your business!” Ballorn spun on his heel and began to march away. “I’ve wasted enough time with this nonsense!”
“Where are you going?” called the voice, laughing again. “The farm is the other way.”
Ballorn scowled as he wheeled around. It was pointless trying to hide his destination, whoever was watching him obviously had a vantage point from which they could see him. “If you try to follow me, there’ll be trouble!” he growled.
***
Although still some distance away, Ballorn slowed his pace as the farm came into view. Something was dreadfully wrong and he stared in confusion at the fields. The ground was churned up so badly in places that it looked more like a quarry than a farm. Making his way around the potholes and trenches, he approached the pile of rubble he suspected had once been the farmer’s house. Large blocks of stone lay on the ground with random timbers poking out amongst them. Ballorn rubbed the back of his head as he tried to make sense of it. Close by, numerous planks of wood protruded from the ground as if they had been placed there deliberately. Oh, thought Ballorn, that must be all that’s left of the barn! Deciding to investigate further he approached the remnants of the barn. Stumbling on the uneven ground he stared down at his boots, frowning. Only then did he notice the dirt beneath them. It was scorched, charred almost. It looks just like that patch of ground I passed earlier today, he thought.
He was feeling more uncomfortable by the second and called out, optimistically, “Hello, is there anybody here?” He turned his head, listening intently, but no-one answered.
He crouched down, taking a pinch of soil and inspecting it. “Hello!” he called again, “It’s me, Ballorn, the blacksmith. I’ve brought your axe.”
Should I just leave it here, he thought. I could place it near the ruined farmhouse for Lonny to find when he returns. He looked around at what remained of the farm. Return to what? he thought. There’s nothing left of the place!
He sat down on a pile of rubble, unsure of what to do next. It was late in the day, his journey having taken far longer than he had anticipated. If he was to head back home now, he would undoubtedly end up walking through the woods after dark. He shuddered at the thought and decided to make himself a small camp for the night. Perha
ps the farmer would return before he left in the morning. But, deep down, he knew that Lonny had no good reason to return. After all, there was nothing to return to.
It was a restless night for Ballorn. He was tired, that he could not deny, but each time he dozed off terrible nightmares filled with monsters, wild beasts, raging fires and explosions haunted him. He would wake with a start, his wild eyes searching for terrors in the dark. But everything was as serene as it had been when he had first closed his eyes. The only sound to be heard was the gentle breeze that produced faint whistling noises as it whipped around the small piles of stone surrounding him. Unfortunately, for him, his sleepless night would undoubtedly make his homeward journey far more arduous. Nonetheless, he was ready to set off as dawn broke. “I’ll be glad to see the back of this place,” he chuntered quietly.
***
He breakfasted on dry biscuits and laughed at himself for being so childish the previous night. “Like a big kid!” he chuckled to himself as he set off for home.
With the axe still firmly strapped to his back, his mind wandered as he walked. Such a shame, he thought. Lonny paid a hefty price for this. But, glancing back at the devastation, Ballorn feared that he would never see it, let alone wield it. Optimistically, he believed that there was still a slight possibility that the farmer would suddenly appear and hurry after him. Doubtful, he thought as he quickened his pace.
The morning was pleasant. The sun shone and a light breeze cooled Ballorn as he ambled his way home, kicking at small tufts of grass as he went. Distracted slightly by the shrill chirping of the birds, he failed to notice that he was nearing the scorched patch of ground he had discovered the day before. A small plume of dust erupted from the toe of his boot as he stopped dead in his tracks.
Realising where he was, he called out. “Are you still here?” He glanced around but was happy when nobody answered. Moving forward warily, he approached the treeline. “I’m just passing by, I don’t want any trouble.”
He paused again, sensing that something was different. The scorched area seemed far bigger than it had been the previous day and even the side of the mountain seemed blackened. He carried on, trying his best not to make a sound as he virtually tiptoed closer to the trees. His heart skipped a beat when he heard the sound of splintering wood, but it was far louder than a small twig snapping or even a thick branch breaking. It sounded more like a tree exploding. Ballorn was not easily startled but his heart was racing and he began to hurry toward the comparative safety of the trees. Reaching them, he darted behind one. All he could hear was his own heartbeat as he craned his neck to listen. Sweat began to trickle down his temples as he saw something move ahead of him. Whatever it was, was big, very big!
Now in a blind panic, he ran. He had no idea what he had seen but he was sure he didn’t want to see it up close. Dashing amongst the trees, he sprinted away as if his life depended on it. His blood ran cold when he heard the first roar. Glancing quickly over his shoulder he saw trees being smashed by the gargantuan shape that was now charging after him. He could hear it getting closer and tugged at the straps holding the axe. His father’s pendant becoming entangled in his fingers as he frantically tried to free the weapon from his back. He wheeled around, hurling the axe with all his might and cried out as he saw that the beast was almost upon him. The forest was ablaze with a strange glow. It was as if lightning were striking both trunk and bough of every tree. There could be no escape! Ballorn lowered his head and braced himself. He could not see clearly what it was that was about to take his life, its form hidden amongst the dust cloud and splintering trees as it fell upon him. He was hurled into the air as his attacker slid to a halt, his poor body bouncing off numerous branches as he soared uncontrollably. Adrenalin surged through his veins, staving off most of the agonising pain he would have otherwise felt. But his pain was fleeting as the side of his head slammed mercilessly against a tree. Suddenly everything went black.
Ballorn opened his eyes, amazed that he was still alive. How long he had lain there was uncertain. His blurred vision was of very little use to him as he tried to focus in the dim light. Then the pain hit him. He grunted loudly as he clutched at his leg. At his forge he had caught himself many times as he wielded his hammer and had scars on his hands and forearms from sparks that had landed on them, but he had never had to endure an agony such as this. He leaned back as he gasped, realising that his leg was broken. He tried a few times to scramble to his feet, hoping that his good leg would support him long enough to escape the pit into which he had fallen, if indeed it was a pit. He knew not whether it was day or night as he shuffled around in the dark. Feeling the walls around him revealed that they were not solid, but damp earth covered in many thick, gnarled roots. Using these as handholds he dragged himself toward the pale light that seeped through to one side of his tomb. His muscular arms were a blessing, making it easy for him to pull himself up to the hole that he had noticed above him. The roots were thicker now and strong enough to hold his weight but as he inched closer toward freedom the searing pain got the better of him. He rolled to one side and began retching, panting loudly before wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Not far now, he thought. Come on Ballorn, you can do this.
Breathless and exhausted after his arduous climb, he managed to pull himself free and rolled onto his back in the cold night air. To be out in the forest at night was not safe, even for someone in perfect health. For Ballorn, exhausted and lame as he was, it could possibly be a death sentence. Shuffling backward he leaned against the tree, reaching up and patting it gently. “So, you protected me,” he said quietly. Luckily, his limp body had rolled down the hill right into the hollow and tumbled into the pit directly beneath it. “I don’t know what it was…” whispered Ballorn, “… but it would’ve had me if you hadn’t kept me safe. I thank you for that.”
He glanced around, “I hope you’ll forgive me,” he mumbled, “I think I might need to borrow a couple of bits of you, but only the bits you don’t seem to want any more.” He was referring to the fallen branches that lay on the ground. He needed a splint for his leg if he were to have any hope of escaping the forest. The straps that held the axe in place were still entangled around his body and would be perfect to hold the branches in place. He scrambled around picking up any of the fallen branches he thought might be of use, discarding many before finally choosing some that he thought would be suitable. Glancing at the night sky, he guessed that it was not long after midnight. It would be at least five hours before he would have the safety of daylight. He was in a wretched state. Covered in bruises, cuts and scrapes, Ballorn took comfort in the fact that his luck could have been much worse. But it was about to be!
He heard a rustling as something moved in the undergrowth. Whatever it was quickly grew closer and it was not long before he could hear its rasping breath. He had lost the axe and all he had to defend himself with was the branches he had just collected. He picked at the end of one, trying desperately to make it into more of a stake. His strong hands tore at the bark as he peeled both it and a few splinters away from the edges. Bracing himself against the tree, “Come on then you evil buggers,” he shouted at the darkness, “I’m ready for you! You won’t be getting a taste of me without a fight!”
The hazy moonlight was enough for Ballorn to be able to see the bushes twitching, and what was prowling through them. Gemnars!
Smaller than a wolf but far more dangerous, gemnars also hunted in packs. If uninjured, Ballorn would have been able to fend them off quite easily. But injured and unable to stand meant that there was no way he could defend himself. They edged forward, an entire pack, drooling and snarling as they circled him. One suddenly charged, its jaws snapping at Ballorn. He swung the branch with all his might, sending the beast yelping in pain as it tumbled across the ground. “You’re not getting me that easy,” he roared. They grew closer until Ballorn could see the vapour from their breath as their black eyes flashed in the moonlight.
Suddenly the ground between them
erupted in flame, then again to the left and once more to the right. Ballorn, now shielded by a wall of flame, was as confused as the gemnars who bayed and howled, enraged at having been deprived of their easy meal. One was undaunted and leapt through the flames, but it was dead before it landed, an arrow deeply embedded in its skull. The remainder of the pack were not as eager and turned, vanishing into the darkness.
Ballorn was startled as the slender figure landed beside him. The stranger glared at him as he reached down and snatched up the dead gemnar.
“Thank you,” sighed Ballorn. “You saved my life.”
The stranger sneered at him, “You thank me, for this!” he exclaimed, thrusting the carcase toward him. “You people do not belong out here, now one of the forest creatures has lost its life because you dared to venture into their home!”
“But… but they would have torn me apart!”
“Perhaps I should have let them! They were only doing what comes naturally to them! If you had stayed in your village, climbed into your nice warm bed and hidden beneath the covers, none of this would have been necessary!”
“Now you listen here,” Ballorn protested. “As much as I appreciate your aid, I didn’t ask for it! It was your own decision to help me and if you’re regretting it, it’s tough. Just push off, I’ll be fine on my own! If them blighters come back you can watch ‘em eat me, maybe that’ll make you feel better!”
Mark of The Nibrilsiem: Set before The Ascension of Karrak (The Karrak Trilogy Book 4) Page 2
