Son of Soron

by Robyn Wideman

  They talked more about Balta that night. Compared to life in Elderwood it sounded exotic and mystical. Nathan was excited. He had decided that he would join Verin and take the journey to see the land of his mother’s people. He would miss Elderwood but now that he had taught the Dollans basic potion making and dispatched the bandits he could leave without feeling guilty. He thought about Ava and her parting words. They still stung. He wondered if she missed him. Perhaps it would be good to stay away longer, till her temper had truly cooled off. That red hair of hers was as fiery as her tongue. He missed it. He decided he could miss it just a little while longer. She hated goodbyes so he would save them from having to say another goodbye. It just seemed logical. He decided he would go back to Elderwood after visiting Balta. Before he went to sleep he thought about the strange directions his life was taking, the mystery shrouding his parent’s lives. A warrior prince and a princess living incognito in a small village: it was like a fairy story his mother had once told him to help him settle down and sleep at bedtime. Had it really been a fable? Life was changing too fast. Nathan had pictured himself being a blacksmith as was his father. Now it seemed not so cut and dried. He could skip the royalty thing. However, the idea of being a protector seemed noble.

  Nathan did not want to abandon his smithing. Working with metal reminded him of his father. He missed working the metal. Then he realized perhaps he missed his father more. Life was getting more confusing. Nathan sighed before he drifted off to sleep. Verin had assured Nathan than in Balta he would have all the access to blacksmith materials he wanted so that wasn’t a problem. The issue being, in order to make the black steel, he needed to have graphite, phosphorus and witch oak. The first two weren’t that rare and could be found in Balta, but witch oak was a different story. As far as anyone knew the only place it grew was on the north side of the Applomean Mountains, the land of the Pellians.

  Chapter twenty six

  NATHAN AND VERIN continued their journey down into the valleys of the north. As they got lower out of the high mountains Nathan started to see some subtle variations in the vegetation and landscape different from the south. While the area they were in was forested it was sparse. Instead of thick clumps of cedar, pine and birch there were towering red oaks that were so big that small trees didn’t grow around them. The undergrowth was rocky and mossy with less vegetation altogether.

  For two days, they traveled west. They were taking their time, hunting and enjoying the scenery as they went. It was new land to both of them and they were savoring the experience. They had been following a small creek when they came up to a deep pond. It looked promising for fish, as it was dark and deep. When the first trout jumped out of the water in front of them Verin insisted they stop. Nathan laughed, thinking that catching fish would be a fine idea, so they stopped and built themselves fishing rods out of a couple oak branches and thread from one of Verin’s old shirts. Nathan was too reluctant to rip the fine clothing he had purchased in Birchone. Nathan carved small hooks and attached them to the newly made fishing rods. They used small bits of dried fruit for bait and had a most successful and fun day. By nightfall, they had caught and smoked a dozen good size fish and eaten three more. With bellies full and replenished food stores for travel, they continued their journey in relative comfort.

  On the fourth day in the north, Nathan and Verin came to a village. They were not sure how the northerners would react to strangers, but it would be better to walk straight up then be found lurking in the forest. So they took their chances and entered the village. It was a small village, eight houses of modest size with a large main lodge in the middle. The houses and lodge formed a horseshoe around a relatively open space only with a well in the middle.

  When Nathan and Verin walked into the village there were a few children playing in the open space by the well. When they saw Nathan and Verin, they scattered into various houses. As Nathan got closer to the well he could sense that all the eyes on him were not just in the houses. While they had walked up into the village someone had come up behind them. Slowly Nathan turned to find a towering older man with a large spear standing not over ten feet behind them. The old warrior walked as quiet as a soft wind to get that close without being noticed.

  Nathan thought about the old warrior sneaking up behind them, if he had meant them harm, he likely would have already done so. Nathan smiled and raised a hand in greeting. “Hello, we have been traveling west when we came to your village. We thought it best to come in and announce ourselves before continuing on our way.”

  The old northerner looked over the two men. Verin with his blond hair and slender build was much smaller than the most from the north and stood out as being from the south. Nathan with his dark hair and large frame was harder to place until you noticed the blue eyes that marked him as having at least some southern blood. “I didn’t think you were very war like yesterday when you two spent half the day fishing. Otherwise, I would have killed you in your sleep, what are you doing here?” The old warrior’s words sounded harsh, but the smile on his face and twinkle in his eye showed he was having a little fun at their expense. Letting them know that they had been watched for at least a day without their knowledge.

  Nathan laughed. “Well, I meant war on those fish. Northern trout is mighty tasty.”

  “Come with me, the men will back from the mine soon. We will eat then you can tell me how two southerners ended up in Arith.The old warrior led them to the main lodge. Inside the lodge were two long tables with a large fireplace on the far end. The old warrior walked to the far end of one of the tables and took a seat at the head of the table. He gestured for Nathan and Verin to sit beside him. “My name is Burinn Oggson; I welcome you to my table,” said the warrior.

  Verin having had some dealings with Soron and other northern men relaxed a bit. Now they were safe as Burinn had declared them guests. They were under his protection as long as they were in the village.

  “My thanks, Burinn. My name is Verin and my young companion is Nathan,” said Verin, giving a small formal bow as he spoke.

  As the introductions were completed a woman came into the room with a pitcher and three mugs. Burinn told them a little about the village as they watched the room begin to fill with men woman and children. Soon all the curious villagers were in room and dinner was brought in.

  The meal was delicious, roast duck, elk steaks, yams and wild asparagus. The villagers were polite yet wary. Mainly Burinn, and a few of the men at his table, spoke with them while the other men talked amongst themselves. This changed when one of the men, Manyal, noticed Nathan’s black daggers.

  “Fine looking knives you got there boy, where did you buy them?” Manyal was one of the men who were being friendly and his voice held a curious tone, so Nathan did not take this as a threat and replied honestly, “Actually I made them.”

  The room went silent and everyone focused their attentions on Nathan. “That is a lie,” spoke a man from the opposite table. He stood from his seat and walked over towards Nathan. “You are here as a guest of Burinn, but if you disrespect me again by lying in my presence, I will take out your lying tongue.”

  Nathan wanted to be polite and make sure nothing bad happened, but to be called a liar made his blood to a boil. He had never been so insulted and he would not back down to appease this man. “The blades are mine, I made them myself and if you call me a liar again I will show you how good I am with them.” Nathan smiled at the man but did not look happy. He looked more like a predator about to strike.

  Before the man could say anything more Burinn raised his voice “Enough Magnus, sit down. I will deal with this.” Burinn turned and stared at Nathan. “You are my guest, but no southerner can forge the black metal. To continue this tale would be disrespecting me, and as such, I would have to end my hospitality and let Magnus continue this conversation. It would not go well for you.”

  “I am not sure I like the hospitality of this village anyways, calling guests liars without knowing that of whic
h they speak and I will not change my claim. The knives were made by me." Nathan was fuming, this was so insulting! He just wanted to lash out and hit someone. He stared hard at Magnus, wishing the big man would attack him.

  While Nathan argued with the northerners, Verin was surprised. He had never seen Nathan lose his cool before, even in battle he had remained calm. So before things got too far out of hand, Verin decided it was time to calm things down and explain who the boy truly was. The explanation could be useful or very dangerous if Verin had read the men wrong. He hoped, as he had gathered from their earlier conversation, gleaning bits of information, that these villagers were friendly to the clans that called Stoneblood their king. Verin gambled. “Nathan, sit now!” Verin commanded in a sharp tone that Nathan had not heard before.

  Surprised by the sharp authoritative command, Nathan momentarily forgot his building rage and took a seat.

  As Nathan sat Verin continued to address the northerners. “Burinn, we are grateful for your hospitality and do not wish to cause trouble. The boy is speaking the truth. The fault lies with me for not giving a proper introduction. My full name is Verin Albin, from Balta, and this is Nathan Stoneblood, son of Soron Stoneblood.”

  The entire room started to mumble at this, Soron Stoneblood, son of Theron Stoneblood, a king of the north. While Nathan sat ridged, seething in anger and waiting for someone to call this a lie, Burinn started to laugh. “Well that certainly does explain the knives and the temper. I’ve never heard of a Stoneblood who could take being called a liar.” The tensions in the room disappear with Burinn’s hearty laughter. “Hell boy, why didn’t you say so earlier. We would’ve cooked something fancy for you.”

  Nathan, while starting to cool down, was obviously still furious so Verin answered for him, “Young Nathan and I are not familiar with the north. But we do know that not all the tribes are loyal to Theron Stoneblood. I thought it prudent to not mention it.”

  Burinn and the others all could see the logic in this, as there was many northern chiefs who would gladly take the life of a Stoneblood, any Stoneblood. ”Well you picked the right village to wander into. This village owes a lot to Theron Stoneblood.”

  Magnus came over to Nathan again, “My apologies Nathan. I should have recognized by your size that you had some northern blood in you, but those damn blue eyes are so southern.” This was finally the moment where Nathan’s anger dissipated. He joined in with the villagers in their laughter “I, too, am sorry Magnus. I lost my temper.”

  The rest of the night went much smoother and many laughs were had as the food was taken away and the mead got stronger. As the night went on more and more of the villagers returned to their houses until only Burinn and Magnus were left with them.

  “Time for sleep now, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” Burinn announced as he and Magnus stood up. “You will sleep in here tonight. There are furs for you to sleep on beside the fireplace. Then tomorrow the four of us are going to see Theron Stoneblood. At which time you will be given an opportunity to prove yourself or die for impersonating a Stoneblood.” Burinn winked at Verin before giving Nathan a friendly slap on the arm as he headed to the door “Sleep well, boy.”

  Chapter twenty seven

  EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, Magnus came and brought Nathan and Verin outside. Burinn was already outside, standing with four horses. Nathan gave the older warrior a funny look that Burinn noticed right away. “What, you don’t have horses in the south, boy?” he laughed as he mounted his horse.

  Nathan had seen plenty of horses. He had even helped take care of a few for traders coming through Elderwood, but he had never actually ridden one. “Sure, we have horses. But, that doesn’t mean I have ever been on one.” Nathan laughed and the men joined in the mirth.

  Verin, an excellent horseman, who had been around horses his whole life, gave Nathan a lesson on horsemanship. “Put your left foot in the stirrup, climb on its back and grab the reigns.” Nathan did as he told, climbing on the animals back and quickly grabbing the reins. “There, now you are a horseman,” Verin quipped.

  Nathan laughed as they took off at a canter. There certainly was more to being a horseman than getting on and not falling off, but for now he was grateful that he was still on the animal's back. After a few hours, Nathan felt a lot more comfortable about not falling off and making a fool of himself. His mount was well-trained and responsive. When Nathan asked the beast to change direction, by pulling on the reigns, it did so with no hesitation. It was a relief the animal was very well trained. Nathan didn’t use the reigns, hardly at all. The horse was good at picking out the easiest path and sticking with the rest of the horses, so all Nathan needed to do was stay on.

  Verin could see that Nathan was finally comfortable enough on the horse that it was time they had a little talk. Verin brought his mount alongside Nathan’s. “Your ass sore yet?"

  Nathan laughed. He certainly was not used to this type of travel. “Yes, thank you it is. “

  “Speaking of asses…”

  Nathan cut Verin off before he could continue the thought. “I’m sorry, Verin. I know I behaved like an ass. I don’t know what came over me. I have never been that angry in my life."

  Verin could see that the boy was being sincere. “It happens, you probably have never been called a liar before, but that is not the point. The point is as you grow into a man you are going to need to control all your emotions. That is why your father spent the time to teach you those breathing techniques. They are not just for controlling your heart rate and adrenaline. They will also help you control your emotions. So next time your emotions get out of control just breathe,” said Verin.

  It was late afternoon when the four men road into the town of Amradin, the home of Theron, the king of the north. It was the largest place Nathan had ever been. Hundreds of houses surrounded a main street where blacksmith shops, taverns and assorted buildings lined both sides of the main street. At the end of the street lay the Great Hall. As they entered the town, Nathan stopped his horse. “Wait. Before we go and see my grandfather, Burinn, you and Verin need to go have a drink or two. Magnus and I have to settle something.”

  The men peered at Nathan and could see he was serious. “All right, we will go eat and drink. You two just don’t go killing each other while we gone” replied Verin.

  After Verin and Burinn left for a tavern know to Burinn to have the honey mead he favored. Nathan turned to Magnus, “You know any of the blacksmiths in this town?”

  Magnus said he did and took him to one just down the road. Dismounting, they entered the shop where Magnus introduced Nathan to Sur’ath the blacksmith. Nathan explained that Magnus had questioned his abilities to smith northern steel and Nathan wanted the opportunity to prove himself. As it was Magnus who had questioned his abilities, he needed to witness them for himself.

  Sur’ath asked to see Nathan’s daggers and after a quick inspection of the weapons simply said “The shop is yours.” The large burly northern smith handed Nathan his hammer and went and stood beside Magnus to watch.

  Nathan felt at home in the shop. Its setup was very similar to his father’s shop, so Nathan was quickly able to find the materials he was searching for. Out of the corner, he picked out a small iron rod, and then with Sur’ath’s tongs he inserted it into the flames. Sur’ath had been working on making horseshoes when they had entered the shop so the fires were hot. But the heat necessary for horseshoes was not the same as for making northern or black steel as Verin called it.

  Nathan let the tongs sit on the edge of the forge keeping the iron heating up while he turned to Sur’ath. “Witch oak?”

  Sur’ath simply pointed to a large sack, sitting against the opposite wall. Nathan went to the sack and took out two small pieces of the witch oak. He threw the two pieces into the fire. He waited a few minutes to let the reaction start to take place. Now the fire was exceptionally hot. The iron rod was glowing red and orange. It was ready to be worked.

  Nathan used the tongs to
take the rod out of the fire and place it on the anvil. He took the hammer in his right hand and began to strike the metal. It felt good to be working in a smith shop again. Nathan worked like in a trance. He really didn’t have a plan or the time to do anything too involved. That said, he did intend to show Magnus, and anyone else that cared that, his father had taught him well.

  Suddenly, inspiration came to Nathan. Using the tongs, he put the now flatter metal rod back into the heat of the forge. He needed the metal to be very hot for this to work.