‘Thank you’, he said. ‘But I’m afraid I’ll have to remain in your debt’. He wanted to keep things clear between them before he even touched the clothing. The Forest Guardian turned around and looked at him with raised eyebrows.
‘Don’t worry about that, you’ll be earning those clothes. I meant what I said on the village square yesterday. You have what it takes to become a Forest Guardian. I don’t take on apprentices lightly. In fact, you’re the first. It will be a learning experience for the two of us’, said the Forest Guardian with a twinkle in his eyes and turned again towards the fire. ‘You should put on the things and see if they fit. Mistress Dohlmen did make a few alterations early this morning. That woman really has a good eye, but we want to be sure, don’t we? What’s important is that you can move well in them but that they’re not too big. Oh, and behind the house is a stream if you want to wash yourself first’.
Ahren nodded and disappeared behind the hut with his things. A small stream, perhaps two paces in width, gurgled along behind the house. The current was gentle and Ahren stomped, snorting, into to the water until it reached his hips. The clear, cold water banished all tiredness from his bones, and after he had dried himself with his old clothing, he slipped into his new. The leather was supple and had already been oiled, and everything fitted well, apart from the shoulders and the leggings. The boots were a little big but Ahren had experience in making clothes fit. He stuffed the front of the boots with strips of cloth he had cut from his old shirt, he rolled up the leggings and cushioned the shoulders. Within a few minutes he was finished and went back into the house. Falk was already waiting for him with two steaming bowls of stew. The Forest Guardian offered him a bowl and eyed him critically. ‘It’ll do for now. You’ll have grown into them soon. Now eat and ask what you have to ask’.
Ahren took a spoonful of the stew which consisted of rabbit, vegetables and several herbs he couldn’t identify. In an effort to win time he tasted the food, chewed it slowly while he tried to think of what he wanted to know first. The food tasted amazing and Ahren noticed that the same hunger came over him that he had felt the previous day at the feast. His body still needed to compensate for the healing process of the previous night. In order to eat his food in peace he threw the first question he could think of into the room.
‘Why did you decide to take part in the apprentice search in the end? Why are you going to so much trouble on my account?’
‘As I already said, you have what it takes to be a Forest Guardian. There’s a girl in Two Rocks who would also be suitable but her Apprenticeship Trial isn’t until next year. I saw how you fought your way through the tests. You did your best without complaint or excuses in spite of your injury and you didn’t give up. But it was something else that tipped the balance’.
Ahren froze, his spoon half way towards his mouth, ‘and what was that?’
Falk studied the boy for a moment before he spoke.
‘Bad people are not born that way, they are created. By us. By all of us. What we experience, shapes us. And in a permanent way. Throw enough weeds into a well and it becomes poisoned. Clean it regularly and fish out the weeds, you always have clear water. Sven, the miller’s son? He was always a timid boy, but that doesn’t make him into a bad person. But if his parents don’t take the fear away from him but stoke it up so that they can keep him under control, then he’ll continue to hide behind every strong back he can find and use every bit of power he can lay hands on’.
Ahren shuddered as he remembered the look Sven had given him at the tree house. Could fear really create so much anger?
‘I’ve seen and heard how your father treated you and so far you’ve put up a great fight in order not to be influenced by it, or at least not much. But the thought of what would happen to you if no-one intervened was unbearable. Sometimes we create the biggest monsters by doing nothing’.
Ahren was both confused and annoyed. The thought that Falk could see a future monster in him was far from flattering. His reaction could be seen in his face because Falk continued, ‘that wasn’t what you wanted to hear, was it? But it’s important that you understand it. If I hadn’t intervened, you’d probably become a bitter, sad man. Unfortunately, bitter, sad men have the habit of spreading more sadness and bitterness. And some of these people are particularly successful…I know what I’m talking about’.
Falk gazed into the distance as he spoke. There was a sadness in his face before his features softened and he turned to Ahren again.
‘Our work as Forest Guardians will repeatedly lead to confrontations with the Dark Ones. How will you fight a Grief Wind if you haven’t learned to subdue your bad experiences?’ Falk didn’t wait for an answer but continued.
‘You’re a good person and you can become a good Guardian. If I hadn’t stepped in, you’d be at the very least be a sad person and certainly no Forest Guardian. Wasn’t that a good enough reason?’
Ahren nodded shyly. He was grateful to his master. But the thought that he had been selected in order to prevent a greater evil remained.
Falk could see that his apprentice was not completely persuaded, but decided not to press further. The young boy had little reason to trust people, and his little speech had undermined the boy’s self-confidence even more. He decided to change the subject. ‘Have you ever actually held a real bow in your hand? I don’t mean that old thing with the practice arrows from the Harvest Festival. Your last shot yesterday was really very good. The bow tautened, raised, aimed and released in a single flowing movement. I had a look at the bell this morning. It wasn’t just a glancing shot, it was a bull’s eye’.
The Guardian’s words had their effect. Ahren’s face lit up and youthful vivacity came flooding aback into him. Of course, the fact that he’d just finished his fourth bowl of stew might have helped too.
‘No, I’ve never shot with a real bow and arrow. But it was all so easy somehow, once it was calm in my head and I’d swopped hands’. And he looked down at his right hand which held the soupspoon.
‘We’ll have to work on that, boy. There’s nothing wrong with using the left hand, that’s just superstition. Does your father come from the Low Marshes?’
Ahren nodded, carefully took the spoon in his left hand and answered deep in thought. ‘He grew up at the edge of the Border Lands. He wanted to get away from there like so many others and move further in to the Midlands. And there is no more peaceful kingdom in the Midlands than Hjalgar so this is where he settled’.
‘Yes, the people there have strange ideas. Their proximity to the Pall Pillar has made them too cautious and superstitious if you ask me’.
Falk pointed at Ahren’s hand, which was holding the spoon rather clumsily. ‘It’ll take you a while to get used to it. Then everything will be much easier, believe me’.
Ahren looked up with curiosity. ‘And what was that, the...Void, I think you called it yesterday’.
The Guardian nodded. ‘Ah yes, the Void. That’s the trick I showed you. That’s where you concentrate on emptying your mind. I’m surprised it worked so well. On the other hand, I’ve heard that some people in extreme situations were able to do it in no time at all. But don’t expect it to work so quickly the next time’.
‘Oh’, said Ahren, disappointed.
‘I’m not saying you won’t be able to learn it, but it takes time. Anyway I had to improvise yesterday. The tree house probably won’t last as a focus point for too much longer, unless you’re more attached to it that I thought’. He smiled at the youngster.
‘A focus point? What do you mean?’
‘The picture you concentrate on when you’re trying to reach the Void. But we’ll deal with that later. Do you have any other questions?’
Ahren looked down at the knife that was sheathed in his scabbard in front of his chest. Before he could ask his question Falk said quickly, ‘Oh no. That will stay where it is for the moment. The knife is only to be used in absolute emergencies unless I say otherwise. In our line of work yo
u’ve made a terrible mistake if you get so close to an animal that you must use it to defend yourself. Firstly, you have to get to know the fores, and really take in everything that I teach you about it. And we can train your left hand at the same time. Then we’ll see how it’s going’.
Falk stood up and opened the lock of the chest, using a small key which hung on a leather strap around his neck.
‘Why don’t you make yourself useful and do the washing-up while I assemble the things we need for the day’.
Ahren stood up obediently and carried the bowls out to the stream. When he returned to the hut a few minutes later, Falk had a bow in his hand and a big rucksack on his bag.
‘Today I’ll carry everything while you try to keep pace. Let’s go’.
As he spoke, Falk walked quickly towards the forest and Ahren hurried alongside him. The first day was promising to be really easy. He’d been in the forest so often before and would have no problems keeping up with a heavily laden older man.
An hour later and Ahren was flat on his back again, gasping for air. Falk was squatting beside him with an amused look. It had taken only a few minutes after the start of their march for the penny to drop with Ahren. Falk was going to keep up the fast pace he was using. That in itself wouldn’t have been a problem. Yet neither the trees, nor the uneven ground, nor the undergrowth nor even the little streams would slow Falk down. The same couldn’t be said for his young companion. He had never been clumsy in the forest before but the speedy pace ensured that he couldn’t avoid the branches in time and he also stumbled over roots and got caught up in the brambles.
Now he understood what Falk had said earlier when he had spoken about Ahren’s old clothes and how they would be in tatters. The buckskin protected him from thorns and the whipping branches. His old clothes would have been torn and useless within minutes. And as for his skin, Ahren shuddered to think what state it would have been in by now.
He stumbled behind Falk, keeping pace after a fashion, gasping for air and cursing to himself whenever he managed to get enough air into his lungs. As soon as the Guardian stopped, Ahren collapsed on the spot. It was a mystery to him that Falk hadn’t sent him back to the village there and then.
‘That will do for the moment. Once you’ve got yourself together we can have a look at the plants that are growing here’.
Ahren nodded gratefully and listened intently as Falk showed him the various plants in the clearing.
After a quarter of an hour he said, ‘right then, up you get! We’ve a long way ahead of us’.
Groaning, Ahren struggled to his feet and followed his master into the forest. And so the day went on in this fashion. An hour’s march. Then a quarter hour break, during which time le learned to recognize the different plants. Falk always seemed to seek out the places where very many different varieties of plants could be found.
By the time they were returning to the cabin in the late evening, Ahren could hardly place one foot in front of the other. Falk took off his rucksack and said, ‘so my boy, let’s see what you’ve remembered’. He produced many bundles of green plants and laid them out on the grass. ‘Tell me which ones you recognize and what they’re called’.
Ahren could hardly believe his ears. His legs were no longer his own and he had an overpowering desire to curl up into a ball and fall asleep. As he looked at the plants lying in front of him, he realized he couldn’t identify a single one. Falk was silent and let the boy think. Ahren considered them for a long time as he really wanted to name at least one of them. His eyes wandered again and again over the various branches, grasses, berries and mushrooms. Finally his eyes settled on a reddish plant. He pointed at it and said uncertainly, ‘Wolf Herb?’ Even to his own ears it sounded more like a question than a statement.
‘Do you know another one?’ asked Falk.
The young boy shook his head. His ears were red. First I spend the day trudging and panting my way through the wood as if I had never been in the open air before, and now I can only identify one measly plant, thought Ahren forlornly. He was downcast. Of course Falk would send him back. Would explain that he’d made a mistake. That Ahren would never evolve into a good Forest Guardian.
But his master merely nodded, gathered everything up and placed it into the chest. ‘That was very good. It took me three days before I could even recognize one. My master was at his wits’ end’.
The young boy looked up in amazement. It seemed absurd to him that his master could ever have struggled with the same problems. Surely Falk was only softening the blow.
His disbelief must have been written all over his face because once Falk had stored all the plants, he looked up and chuckled. ‘It’s only natural that you don’t believe me. You should just keep in mind that I’ve had a much longer time to practise than you have. One plant is a good result for your first day’.
Falk fell silent and Ahren thought that his master must be finished. But then he continued and fixed Ahren with a steely look and spoke with an intense urgency. ‘You must think in small steps. One plant after the other. One step after the other. There are so many things to learn, so many things you don’t know about yet. Things that are second nature to me now. I’m sure it seems like an impossible task to you. But there’s only one rule that’s essential for your training: never give up. You can make mistakes, you can learn incredibly slowly or be clumsy as you like. But you cannot give up. If you don’t, you’ll learn everything from me that I know. And in all honesty, that’s not quite a lot’. The grin reappeared on Falk’s face and he slapped his apprentice on the shoulder.
The young boy could only stare at his master in silence as he thought about everything he had heard. Never give up. His master had reduced all his fears doubts into this simple rule and this had an incredibly soothing effect on Ahren.
Because a promise resonated through Falk’s words, one which deeply moved the youngster: As long as he didn’t give up, then Falk would not give up on him either.
After they had polished off the rest of the stew from the morning, the youngster lay down on the mattress and fell asleep immediately. His quiet, deep breathing filled the hut and Falk noticed that his apprentice was smiling in his sleep. The old man couldn’t possibly know this. But it was the first time in years that Ahren was at peace in his sleep.
Chapter 4
Whatever about Ahren smiling in his sleep, the next morning was hell. He was woken up by his master’s low humming, as he warmed up a herbal soup. The delicious aromas permeated the little cabin and the boy’s stomach started to rumble. He moved to get up, groaned hoarsely and clenched his legs. The least movement and he felt as if he were being pricked with needles.
Falk turned around when he heard the groans of this apprentice, ‘good morning, Ahren’, he said with a chuckle. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘The soup smells good master but it would taste even better if you had a new pair of legs for me’. Ahren sat up clumsily and pulled his legs slowly under him so that he could stand. It took all his willpower not to groan again but he gave a clenched smile to his mentor.
Falk nodded knowingly. ‘That’s good. You’re fighting your way through. Don’t give up. Come here, the soup will help you. Some of the herbs will ease the pain and others will help your muscles to get through the day’.
The boy walked unsteadily to his stool and looked at his companion in horror. ‘We’re running again today?’
‘No, we’re not’, said Falk with an impassive look.
‘Great’. A wave of relief came over Ahren and he flopped down on the stool.
‘We’ll go at the same pace today as we did yesterday. I think that we’ll wait with the running for a bit’. The old man’s demeanour remained the same but Ahren truly believed that his master was enjoying every second of this.
Resigned to his fate Ahren grasped his spoon and tried the food. The soup was strong and thick, the taste was intense and spicy, and Ahren had swallowed three bowlfuls within minutes. As he reached for the bowl ag
ain, Falk shook his head.
‘That’s not a good idea, boy. Any more and you’ll get sick as soon as we leave the house. Your body needs to regain the energy you lost through the healing but it has to be done slowly. Why don’t you wash yourself and get dressed while I prepare everything for today’s march’,
Ahren recognized an order, even if it was formulated politely, and stood up obediently. To his surprise he realized that the stiffness in his legs and the pains had become distinctly more bearable. Whatever was in the soup had had an immediate effect. He clamped his leather clothing under his arm and left the hut while his master began tidying up. When he came back a few minutes later, Falk was already dressed and was equipped with the same rucksack as the previous day, although it looked distinctly heavier today.
‘Ready. Then let’s go’. Falk tossed something to Ahren, which bounced off the surprised boy’s chest and rolled across the floor. He bent down to pick it up and saw that it was a leather ball, not quite the size of a fist. He looked over questioningly at the Guardian, who gestured to him to throw the ball back. ‘With your left’, he said firmly.
Ahren threw the ball somewhat clumsily to his master, who then left the hut and strode quickly into the undergrowth. His apprentice followed him into the warm summer’s day with a sigh and resigned himself to his fate. He trotted a while to catch up with Falk when suddenly the ball flew at him from the greenery. He just managed to pull his hand up – otherwise the thing would have hit him in the face. As it was it just bounced painfully off his hand – his right one.
Falk’s voice echoed through the forest. ‘With the left, boy. And don’t just stand there. The way is long today. And I’d like the ball again!’
Ahren rubbed his hand with a curse, picked up the ball and ran wearily into the forest.
The hours passed as they had done the previous day. Except that Falk would throw him the ball again and again, and Ahren would have to catch it with his left hand and throw it back again. This meant that the apprentice not only had to keep up the pace, avoid the branches, and look out for the roots, but also keep sight of Falk, as he never knew where the cursed ball would fly from next.
Ahren- the 13th Paladin Page 7
