The Statue Maker

by Oliver Kennedy

  Chapter 5

  Things got worse for this small family in Alesven. Word of the problems working for the harvest-master soon spread, it was not long before the whole village was regarding Falk and his family with the same hostile and suspicions glares. The months wages that Falk received did little to alleviate the situation. A week after the fire Falk came back home in the middle of the day to find Belessa alone in the kitchen. Falk asked where Aldwyn was and mother told him he was sleeping which was extremely odd for his father given that it was the middle of the day. Then Falk noticed the broken remnants of a bottle of Borlial Fine Rum near the back door. A look of silent understanding passed between Falk and his mother.

  Falk took to begging but was soon dissuaded from doing so by the village warder who dragged Falk back to his home on several occasions. The warder made numerous threats to Falks parents regarding reporting Falk to the town magistrate in Albury. Belessa apologised with profuse embarrassment, the warder sympathised with their plight and said that he would hold off for now but that Alesven was not a place for beggars. So Falk could not benefit from the voluntary kindness of the people of his village, so he started to benefit from their involuntary lack of vigilance. Falk began to steal. A loaf of bread here, a jar of sweet honey there. Apples from the orchard and salt from the poorly locked stores.

  When Falk first started bringing home the bounty of his night time pilfering Belessa was furious, but she ate, as time went by the fury faded and she silently accepted the foodstuffs that a tired Falk would carry in with him in the small hours of the morning.

  However Alesven was not a large village, certainly not large enough for a career thief to go go unnoticed in his felonious endeavours. Though there were mutterings in the village tavern about who the obvious culprit was there was no proof. Falk started to encounter difficulties however. Sturdier locks, doors where doors were not found before, Lur-hounds guarding that which they would not have needed guarding before. Because of these night time sentinels Falk was forced to start stealing during the day. Aldwyn had taken so heavily to drink that he was intoxicated most of the time, Belessa was so grateful to be able to eat that she did not restrain her sons criminal activities.

  Thus did things continue in this manner for some weeks until there came the inevitable breaking point.

  Selena Ithmils Candy Orchard was the only shop town which sold the sugary treats craved by so many, hence it was a popular place for the village children and many of their parents to spend money on an array of sweets and candy. During better times as a child Falk had visited her store often as a smiling child spending his tiny copper coins on delightful wares which Selena dispensed. It was a shame that it had come to this then, for Selena Ithmils spent much of her morning staring out of the shop window at the grubby shifty looking man that Falk had become as he loitered in the shadowy alleyway opposite her shop.

  The day wore on and Selena could not maintain her vigil permanently for the schoolhouse was closed for the day and her shop was filled with smiling happy faces, much as Falk had once been. Selena was franticly busy dispensing gob-stoppers and liquorish and sugar canes when one of the children, Boris Bywater son of the school master, announced that he much desired a honeycomb square. Selena saw that the jar which normally held the crunchy brown honeycomb was empty, so told Boris to wait but a few moments whilst she went to the out-house to stock up. The outhouse was a store room at the back of the shop which was normally locked during the night but because of the frequency of her trips out to it Selena left open during the day. As she pulled out an un-opened jar of honey-comb and made to leave Selena heard furtive shuffling at the back of the store-room. She turned and looked at the poorly lit back area of the store.

  “I know its you Falk, you may as well show yourself”. Falk moved forward but at a pace which Selena was not expecting. Falk had no intention of being court and he barged into the shop-keeper knocking her down as he went.

  Selena cried out as she fell and Falk turned and with chagrin saw that the kindly sweet dispenser had fallen and cut her head on the out-house door, blood streamed down her face from the nasty looking gash on her forehead. Selena looked up at Falk woozily and muttered “You stupid boy”. Falk turned and ran, he fled home as quickly as he was able. Belessa was not home and Aldwyn could be heard snoring deeply from the bedroom, the smell of alcohol almost as pervasive as the sound of his snores.

  For some minutes Falk sat shaking at their dining table trying to figure a plan, but the time for quick action was long passed, even as he sat and contemplated escape the door of the shack burst open, in came the village warder with two of his watchmen, the warder, a thickset man by the name of Gulk raised his stout cudgel and Falks world went dark.

  As with most thieves greed had been his downfall. He'd gone from stealing the odd necessity here and there to outrageous thefts of valuables and luxury foodstuffs. A day did not pass when Falk did not curse that fateful meeting with the statue maker and the terrible fortunes that had befallen him and his house since. The three days he spent locked in a cell in the local block-house, that was the warders headquarters, were spent dwelling more deeply than others. Solitary confinement is a fantastic catalyst for pondering one's own downfall, tracing time and time the threads of personal history that wove down to this low point.

  At night Falk would dream of red-wolves, he would feel them rending at his flesh and awake in a cold sweat that he more than once mistook for blood. Belessa visited but passed little comfort through the bars of Falks cell. Of his father Falk saw nothing.

  It took three days for the magistrate to arrive from Albury. He rode into town in an ornate carriage flanked by half a dozen guardsmen. The warder of Alesven and his watchmen were a light militia force, there more for show than any real need to maintain order. Such order as needed maintaining in a village the size of Alesven was most of the time handled in house, if only it had been the way with Falk, these guards though were a different affair. They were cold eyed and hard men, likely former professional soldiers, they rode their horses in that manner of those who have spent many years doing so, and they carried their razor sharp short-swords at their sides with confidence and casual ease.

  The trial was held in the village hall. It was a short and simple affair. The bored pasty faced magistrate struck the table before him several times to silence the shouts of “Cursed thief” which came from the public before asking Selena Ithmil to step forward. The sweet-shop owner looked pale but determined and she had an extravagant looking bandage wrapped around her head. Falk felt this to be a little over the top but then he supposed they did not want her injury to look superficial lest the magistrate pass a more lenient sentence. Falks trial lasted for about ten minutes. He could not deny his actions, he'd been spotted running from the scene and in addition the Warder had conducted a thorough search of his families premises and discovered a near trove of hidden loot. Besides that Falk did not wish to escape punishment, he yearned for it, yearned for the solace it might bring.

  Once he'd heard from Selena and various other members of the township the magistrate stood and spoke in a thin nasal voice. “Whatever tragedies that may have given rise to criminal aspirations of the accused are of little relevance. King Eldelins rule is clear, thieves will be punished. Falk of Alesven I sentence you to a public flogging of twenty turns of the lash, the sentence to be carried out immediately”. With a curt wave of his hand two of the magistrates guards grabbed Falk and dragged him out of the hall into the village square. Winter was in the air and Falk shivered at the chill wind which blew.

  The townsfolk followed them outside and watched the guards strap Falk to the whipping post in the centre of the square. Such punishment as this had not been seen in Alesven for many years, the post was unused for its original purpose and served nowadays as a place for hanging flowers and posting local events. There were many smug looks in the crowd from those cruel taunters who had called Falk cursed. Falk saw that Old Glenn and Selena stood with the
crowd but neither of them looked in his direction, both gazed at the floor and neither shared the look of triumph present on many of the faces there. The magistrate looked on impassively.

  When as a boy Falk had once spoken curses at his mother then Aldwyn had laid a whip across his hands as punishment. But nothing could have prepared Falk for the searing pain as the whip lashed down onto his back, pealing back the skin and spraying blood out into the cold air. As the whip struck twice and then three times Falks scream's worsened. The smug smiles of the crowd vanished, most now shared the uncomfortable countenance of Selena and Glenn. As the whip came down a fourth time Falk heard a shout of protect from the crowd. “NOOO” roared Aldwyn stepping forward. Finally, his father come to save him at the final hour. But then Falk noticed something strange about the way Aldwyn moved as he walked out of the crowd.

  The former sheep herder was staggering. He was bleary eyed and in his right hand he carried a near consumed bottle of Fine Rum “Get away from my son”. Falks heart was torn, he felt such pride and gratitude for his fathers show of loyalty, but it was mixed with shame for Aldwyn slurred each word he spoke, his intoxication was obvious.

  What happened next seemed to happen almost in slow motion. Falk saw his father walk forward towards one the two magistrate guards who stood between the crowd and the punished. The guard held up his hand to put upon Aldwyns chest in restraint but it never made contact, the empty bottle of thick glass crashed against the side of the guards head, it shattered on impact and the guard fell twitching to the floor. There were gasps and cries of dismay as Aldwyn dropped the remnants of the bottle and moved towards his son with outstretched hands ready to free him from his bonds. Falk heard the rasp of steel as the other guard drew his short sword and cleaved it into his fathers head. In that instant everything changed. Falk had endured much over these past few months. The incident in the western wood, the death of his hound and his herd, the slow destruction of his family due to his mistakes.

  But in that instant it all came to a head in his mind, the roaring tumult of guilt and pain which had been building inside of him for weeks came pouring out as Falk screamed out a single word into the world, it was the word that he'd sworn he would never speak, it was the word the dark figure of the woods had whispered to him, the word was the wish of the statue maker.