After Kalher left, Finn asked his brother about his plans for the afternoon. Garm said, “Janie Brauer asked me to help her father repair their roof. It’s leaking.”
“Sounds like Miss Brauer has a thing for you.”
“Nah—she just thinks I’m tall enough to repair it without a ladder. It would save her old dad from falling to his death. He is accident-prone, apparently.”
“Accident-prone? Sounds like an excuse for her to see you, you big dope.”
Garm smiled. “Well, she is cute.”
“Come on, Bucket. A little quicker, please. It will be night soon, and we still have to close the north gate.”
The sun was low in the west, as the eldon walked up Main Street toward the market. The old hound followed behind him.
No sign of the watcher, tonight.
The streets were emptying, as people headed home to warm fires and warm meals. By the time Finn got to the market, it was deserted. The merchants had packed up their wares and were either in the inn drinking, or at home with their families. Shadows stretched across the market square.
“It’s going to be a cold night, Bucket. Let’s not hang around too long.” Finn pulled up his hood. “Kalher will skin me if I let you freeze.”
It will be snowing in the mountains tonight, he thought.
“Come on, Bucket.”
Finn’s pace increased, as they got to the north gate. He closed it and pushed the drawbar to lock it.
He had only gone a short distance before he noticed that Bucket hadn’t followed him. The old dog was nowhere to be seen. That’s when Finn heard him barking.
What’s he found, now?
He went back to the north gate, where he found Bucket in the semi-darkness. The dog stared into a dark alley.
“What have you found, boy?” he asked as he stopped beside the old dog and patted his head. Bucket did not move. Something felt wrong. “Come on, boy, let’s go home.”
A low growl came from Bucket’s throat and bristles stood up along his spine as he stood ridged. He growled again and the low sound raised the hairs on the back of Finn’s neck. He looked into the dark alley, but even his eldon eyes revealed nothing.
“Anyone there?” Finn challenged. No one answered. Finn’s heart raced and he placed a hand on his hunting knife. His weapon didn’t make him feel any more confident, but it was good to know it was there.
He took a few tentative steps down the alley, as his heartbeat thumped loudly in his ears. He was conscious of how loud his own breathing was. He could not see anything, but he knew something or someone was there, Bucket did not stop his low growling. The dog took a step forward, snarled, and bared his teeth. Finn looked at the dog, he had never seen Bucket so riled up.
He looked back up, just as a black shape broke from the shadows, ran down the alley, and disappeared into the darkness.
Bucket barked and leaped into action. Finn was momentarily left alone, until he, too, was in pursuit.
“Bucket, stop!” He called, but the dog continued to run. He was surprisingly quick.
Finn ran as hard as he could. When he rounded the corner, something knocked his legs out from under him, and he hit the ground hard. He raised his head to look at what he’d tripped over. It was a large sack. No!
It was a dog. It was Bucket!
Finn rushed to Bucket’s side, but the old dog was dead and covered in blood. The eldon frantically looked for a wound to stop the blood flow, when he found that the dog’s throat had been cut deeply—almost to the bone.
How did this happen so fast?
With Bucket’s head cradled in his lap, Finn surveyed the alley. It was empty. Twenty yards away, it opened into an intersection lit by a street lamp, but the intersection was also empty.
Bucket, I am sorry.
Finn gently laid the dog’s head on the ground before running to the street corner and looking in both directions. One way led to the market and the other toward the Hill. There was no one visible in the street.
He went back to Bucket’s body and knelt.
I should’ve left you at home to live out your days in the sun.
Finn picked up the body and was surprised at how light it was. A tear ran down his cheek as he carried Bucket toward their cottage.
This has all gone wrong. Kalher will be devastated.
Chapter 5
Finn pulled his heavy cloak around his shoulders to keep the winter’s cold at bay. He walked through the streets toward Freewater’s northern gate. The sun’s glow had appeared above the town’s wall, a new day had started.
I got Bucket killed, he thought angrily. He felt that had said sorry a hundred times, but it didn’t make him feel any better.
Now, weeks later, Kalher had returned to his old self. The old warden had a close bond with Bucket and his death had hit him hard. Out of respect, the brothers had given him space to grieve in his own way. For a few days, the old man had been quiet and deep in thought. Finn suspected he was thinking of his own mortality as he often mentioned his age and his pending retirement.
The two brothers had gone through the same daily routine of locking and unlocking the town gates for months. This morning was no different. They were a familiar sight to the locals, now, and most greeted Finn as he passed.
He was in the habit of looking up and down the streets and alleys as he went by, for anything suspicious. He had not seen the mysterious watcher for some time, but he still sometimes felt like he was being followed. He spoke to Garm about it, but his brother hadn’t noticed anyone usual. People had always stared at him, after all, so he was used to it.
‘A good warden is observant of the things around him,’ Kalher had said many times. Finn knew it was best to keep his eyes open.
At time like this, Finn missed his old life in the snow-covered White Cloud Mountains, where it was quiet, and he could hunt deer in high alpine woods, fish in frozen lakes, or sit around the fire, listening to tales of older times.
I have become soft, like a proper city person!
Being soft was the curse of civilisation, according to the older eldons. He had not fired his bow for weeks and knew he would be rusty if he had to hunt again. Stopping in one place was not what he’d envisioned a year ago, when they’d left home.
In the time they had lived in Freewater, Kalher had introduced the brothers to many of the locals, and no one had appeared to be concerned that they were different. Finn had not heard any comments about his grey skin or his other physical differences, but he often felt like he was being judged, anyway. Kirk opened showed his hatred for Finn, but he wasn’t sure why.
At the north gate, he lifted the drawbar and pulled it open silently on its well-greased hinges. As he turned, he saw a dark shape standing in the shadow of the wall.
“Well, well. Fancy seeing you here, eldon!” It was Kirk. There was more movement in the surrounding shadows. Kirk was not alone. The hair on the back of Finn’s neck tingled as Kirk and three men stepped out of the darkness. “We meet again, puke,” said Kirk Auttenburg smiling. “This time, you won’t hit me from behind.”
“I didn’t hit—”
“Shut up!” The blonde man was not smiling, now. His face was full of hatred for Finn. He noticed that all of the men carried wooden cudgels. “We are going to teach you a lesson, eldon scum!”
Finn tried to rush past them, but strong arms threw him against the wall. Not waiting for him to regain his footing, Kirk rushed forward and swung his cudgel in a wild arc. At the last moment, Finn ducked under the clumsy swing and rammed his shoulder into his assailant’s stomach, driving him backward. Kirk lost his balance and hit the ground hard. His three companions hesitated and stared at their prone leader.
“Don’t just stand there!” screamed Kirk from the ground. “Get him!”
The others moved toward Finn. The first thug rushed in and attacked with a downward strike, but missed. Finn threw his right fist and connected with the man’s chin, knocking him to the ground.
He
turned to face the other two, as his rage grew. He raised his fists into a boxing stance. “Come on, cowards!” he challenged.
The two men glance at each other and then rushed forward. The smaller one dove at Finn’s waist. After a brief struggle, Finn drove his knee into the thug’s stomach, which caused him to let go. Doubled over, he fell to the ground. The last man swung his cudgel and connected with the young eldon’s head. A sharp pain shot through Finn’s temple and his vision blurred. Momentarily dazed, he swung out blindly with both arms, hoping to hit something. His left fist hit the thug, and he heard a satisfying groan.
Standing victorious, Finn looked through blurry eyes at three attackers lying on the ground, rubbing their injuries. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his face.
Too late, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Before he could get out of the way, a blow struck the side of his head again. Finn dropped to all fours and the world spun. He’d only just managed to stop himself from face-ploughing the ground. He breathed heavily before a boot smashed into his face and split his lips. Blood spilled onto the ground as he collapsed and lost consciousness.
Finn was groggy and disoriented as his eyes slowly focused. He became aware of someone leaning over him.
They want more! His body struggled to obey his need to get up.
“Slow down. No one’s going to hurt you,” said an unfamiliar voice.
Finn stopped moving and tried to focus. As his vision cleared, he saw the face of a beautiful woman kneeling beside him. She had long black hair, green eyes, and a lightly freckled complexion. She was a similar age to him.
He tried to sit up, but his head felt unnaturally light. Someone who sounded a lot like him groaned.
The beautiful stranger smiled and gently pushed him back down. “Relax, young warden.”
On the edge of his perception, Finn could see two other shapes over the woman’s shoulder. One was very tall.
“Get up, lazy—it’s not night, yet. The sun is shining and there is work to be done,” said a voice that could only belong to his brother.
“Let your brother rest,” said Kalher.
After a short time, Finn sat up and felt the back of his head, which throbbed. “What happened?”
“It looks like you were jumped by a couple of thugs,” said Kalher.
“Kirk Auttenburg and three of his friends,” replied Finn.
“I will get that little bastard,” said Garm angrily.
“Hold on—cool down. The Auttenburgs are wealthy and influential in Freewater,” Kalher said. “It wouldn’t pay to make any rash decisions. You boys don’t need enemies before you have allies.”
Finn looked at the old man. He’s right. They’ll run us out of town, or worse. He decided he’d get his revenge on Kirk and his friends one day—but not today.
The sun was above the town walls and a few merchants passed with carts full of vegetables on their way to the market. Some slowed and asked if Finn needed assistance, but Kalher assured them that he was okay.
Garm grabbed his arm and helped his brother to his feet.
“Thanks.” For a moment, Finn was at a loss for words, as he looked at the young woman. “Thank you, my lady,” he eventually stammered.
The woman laughed. “A lady? You are mistaken. I am just Anna,” she held out her hand and Finn shook it. It was small and soft.
“Thank you, Lady Anna. My name is Finn.” She smiled again, and Finn’s heart pounded in his chest.
“Come on, bruiser, let’s get you cleaned up,” said Kalher. “Good morning, Anna. Thanks for your help.”
“Look after your head, Finn.”
“I will.”
The three men made their way back toward Kalher’s cottage. The streets were now full of people going about their morning routines. Merchants and tradesmen passed by without giving them a second look. There was no sign of Finn’s attackers.
“What happened to Kirk and his friends?” Finn asked as they walked.
“They were gone when we got there. It appears that Anna ran them off. She is one tough girl,” said Kalher.
“Do you think Kirk killed Bucket?”
“No, I don’t think he’s a killer. A bully and thug, yes, but a killer… I don’t think so.”
“If I see that little rat again, I’ll snap him in half,” said Garm with conviction. Finn had never seen his brother so worked up.
“I won’t have any of that talk. People like Kirk always end up getting their just deserts. Something will come back and bite him,” said Kalher. “Promise me you won’t do anything foolish. You are wardens, remember—keepers of the king’s law?” Garm agreed, but Finn didn’t respond.
“Kalher, who is this Anna? I haven’t seen her before. Is she a local girl?” he asked, instead.
“Yeah, she’s local. She has been away studying in the capital for a few months. She just returned yesterday. I guess that was lucky for you,” said Kalher. “Her parents died when she was a baby, and the mayor and his wife have raised her like their own. So, technically, that makes her your boss’ daughter.”
“Oh.”
The old man smiled.
“You boys have been working with me for some time now, and, after the attack the other day, I realised I have neglected to train you in the noble art of combat,” said Kalher one cold morning.
Garm was in the process of finishing his breakfast and his third bowl of porridge.
“We can handle ourselves,” replied Finn, who was mending a hole in his winter coat with a needle and black thread.
“Like you handled Kirk and his friends?”
“I was just unlucky.”
“And Bucket? Times are not safe.”
The brothers were silent.
Kalher is right. I can’t handle myself in a fight.
“Finn, come over here. I want to show you a few moves.”
Finn put his coat on the table and walked to the old warden. He was slightly taller than Kalher, but, like all eldon, was a lot lighter in build.
“Put your hands up into a fighting position. Now, take a swing at me,” said Kalher.
“What?”
“Take a swing at my head. Come on. Show me what you’ve got.”
“Okay, but you’ll regret it.”
Finn threw a right-handed swing at the old warden’s head and Kalher used his left palm to deflect the strike. With his right fist, he punched Finn squarely on the chin. The eldon’s head whipped back and he took an involuntary step backward.
“You’re serious about this!” exclaimed Finn.
“These skills will save your life, one day. Put your hands up.” Finn raised his hands into a boxing stance and now looked more serious about the training. “I will throw a punch at you. Try to block it,” said the old warden.
Kalher raised his front hand slightly and Finn prepared for the attack. Instead of a punch, however, Kalher kicked out with his foot and connected with the eldon’s shin.
“Hey! That’s not fair!”
“Life is not fair, my young eldon,” he explained, “In a fight, you must be prepared for anything. There are many dirty fighters in the world and to survive a fight you must be a smarter.”
Garm stood up from his finished meal. His head almost touched the low ceiling, now. “Can I have a go?”
“You have one advantage over most—and it’s not your height.” Kalher said, as Garm lunged forward to grab him in a bear hug. The old man sidestepped and used the young giant’s forward momentum to pull him off balance. Garm fell flat on his face in a pile of legs and arms.
Finn laughed. “What’s Garm advantage? I couldn’t tell from the demonstration.”
“Most people will be too scared to fight you, Garm, because of your great size. Intimidation is your advantage,” said Kalher. “But a skilled fighter will use your size to their advantage. You are strong, but you are also slow on your feet. Your size also makes it hard for you to stop your forward momentum. Always remember this, and don’t over-commit in a
fight.”
Kalher helped the tall warden back onto his feet. “Okay boys, let’s continue with your hand to hand training and then we will practice with weapons. We will start with a soldier’s weapon, the sword.”
“Where did you learn to fight?” asked Finn.
“You know, I wasn’t always an old, fat warden. I was once a solider in the king’s army. I have fought many wars and seen many things. The most important thing I learned from war was how to survive.”
“What wars did you fight in?”
“Many, but that was long ago. I was different, then. The bloodiest war I fought in was the Great War. It lasted for many years. That was over twenty years ago, now.”
“How did that war start?”
Kalher explained that their country, Tarmia, and their neighbouring country, Krystoria, went to war with Naromia. “Like all wars, it began when one king wanted something that another king had.” He admitted that, even now, he didn’t know why it had started. “As soldiers, we were just pawns for our betters. To be push around and to die for them. I was one of the lucky and survived.”
“Do you think there will be another war?”
“Where there is greed, there will always be war,” said Kalher. “Now, stop avoiding your training. Finn, grab a stick from the wood pile and I’ll show you a few fencing moves.”
Chapter 6
Finn rose from his bed at his usual time and put on his clothes. He pulled on his thickest pair of socks and his hard, leather boots. Winter was finished, but this early spring morning still had a bite to it. He looked over at Garm’s bed, where the multi-coloured blanket snored loudly. Finn smiled at something Kalher always said, “A growing boy needs his sleep.” Garm had to have had more than enough sleep by now.
A Warden Born Page 3
