Ahren- the 13th Paladin

by Torsten Weitze

  Uldini paused for a moment and then answered quietly. ‘Your master has returned home after a very long absence and he must come to terms with parts of his past and his personality, which he has suppressed. This is what happens if you run too far from something and for too long a time. It comes back to bite you eventually’. Then he disappeared leaving the perplexed apprentice in his wake. He could never get a straight answer and his blood was beginning to boil. He stomped over to his master’s room and found him there, sitting on a stool and studying a map. Falk looked up sternly. Before he had a chance to say anything, Ahren unleashed his frustration and anger at being kept in the dark. ‘I spend all my time stumbling behind you, not knowing what’s going on, but following every order you give me, and meanwhile you’re becoming more and more of a stranger, and I’m beginning to believe less and less of what you are all telling me. Two years ago I became a Forest Guardian’s apprentice and now nothing is making any sense anymore’. Ahren had been hoping to sound grown-up and determined, but he knew he sounded like a frightened, wounded boy.

  For a moment there was a flash of anger in Falk’s eyes, but then his face softened and became friendly, as it always did when his master knew he had pushed his apprentice too far.

  He pointed to the other stool and closed the door. Then he sat down again and said, ‘you’re clearly confused and it’s hardly surprising. Let’s try to untangle the knots a little. First of all, I’ve always told you the truth, only it hasn’t been all of the truth. Some of it I will tell you now, some of it will remain my secret, until I feel you are ready to hear it. Agreed?’

  Ahren nodded in silence. He knew when his master was asking a rhetorical question. And anyway, any morsel of information was better than hearing nothing.

  ‘Right then’, the old man began. ‘I was born here in the Knight Marshes as the heir to Castle Falkenstein., a small fiefdom that now lies in the heart of the country. My mother was an important…knightess and from when I was knee-high to a grasshopper I was being trained to follow in her footsteps. So I learned how to fight with a broadsword, I learned riding and how to use a lance, everything that went with the territory. It soon became clear that I was a born knight. It finally came to the point where I took over from my mother. I got to know Selsena and we were an unbelievable team, a natural talent on a telepathic horse. Everything went swimmingly and Uldini and I performed many tasks together. We slew monsters and suchlike. We were highly successful. Until Dark Ones slaughtered my family and everyone I loved, while I was trying to perform a task that was imposible to fulfil’. Falk’s voice faltered and died away and Ahren was sure he wouldn’t say anymore. But then the old man continued in a quiet voice and the pain was evidently still fresh. ‘I abdicated my knighthood and wandered around the world. As you already know, Selsena was not happy with my decision. I let myself go completely. Alcohol and disreputable company, gambling and other things I’m not proud of. In the end I had to flee a clan from the Green Sea on account of some ridiculous bet and found myself without money or sustenance in Evergreen again’.

  Ahren noted that his master had used the human name for the Elfish forest, but he said nothing, though it showed him how his companion was struggling to relate the story he was telling.

  ‘It was only the fame of my former deeds and the fact that a Titejunanwa had been connected to me that saved me from execution. I was brought before the Elf priestess and you know the story from that point on. After my training as a Forest Guardian I went to Hjalgar to enjoy the peace I had found in the freedom of nature. Then you turned up, and with you, Selsena. She must have been keeping an eye on me the whole time and knew that you were something special. And now the circle has been completed and here I am again, in this armour. I have to bring that which I am now into harmony with that which I was. It’s much more difficult than I had anticipated’. Falk looked at the young man. He had obviously come to the end of his explanation. Before Ahren could say anything, the old man muttered, ‘now, get out into the courtyard. I’ll be damned if you think you’re going to get away with not doing your sword practice’.

  His apprentice turned away with a smile.

  Old or new Falk, there were some things about his master that would never change.

  After four days they arrived at a large crossroads where a cobbled trade road from deep in the middle of the Knight Marshes intersected with theirs. Here they found a two-storey guesthouse and a trading post with a warehouse. There were at least forty people bustling around noisily. Ahren saw many merchants with escort parties, at least three different knights, and some wild-looking people with leather hair bands and painted faces. These were talking loudly to the warehouse keeper. Falk made a detour around the crowd and they continued to the inn. Ahren asked quietly, ‘what kind of a place is that and who are the painted people?’

  ‘They were Clanmen from the Green Sea’, answered Uldini. ‘This is where the northern trade route, which we’re journeying to Eathinian on, meets up with a smaller trade route, which stretches from the Red Posts to King’s Island, stretching across the whole of the Knight Marshes’.

  Falk dismounted to purchase provisions and Uldini got them something to drink, for the day was hot and the air was still in the midday sun. Ahren stayed by the horses and watched the various people while tickling Culhen. Falk had purchased a leather collar for the wolf so that people would recognize that the animal was tame, but the wolf would always guarantee that Ahren could be on his own if he so wished. He squatted down beside him and whispered lovingly to his friend, while the wolf lifted his nose to take in all the unfamiliar smells.

  Then the young man heard a voice behind him. ‘That’s a wonderful animal you have there’. He looked up over his shoulder and blinked in the sunshine. The speaker was towering over him, a black silhouette against the light. His deep, warm voice sounded very agreeable. ‘Not everyone has such a true friend. Many have to go through life alone’.

  Ahren straightened up and turned to get a better look at the stranger. Before him stood a thin man with a long thin beard and deep, sunken eyes ringed with shadow. They seemed to be looking sadly but wisely out into the world. He was wearing a strange red robe, shot through with long, golden stripes. His hands were folded in front of him on his stomach and he had a book under his right arm.

  ‘What’s your name, boy?’ he asked.

  ‘Ahren’, answered the apprentice instinctively.

  ‘That’s a good name. Tell me, Ahren, do you sometimes feel lonely?’ the man wanted to know.

  This was a strange question for everyone was lonely at some time, so he nodded.

  ‘And if I were to tell you that you didn’t have to suffer loneliness or fear in your life again, never again?’ the thin man pressed on.

  The young man gave a sceptical look and his companion gave a warm and sympathetic laugh.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking: big words, easier said than done. I would very much like to tell you of the Illuminated Path’. And he tapped the book under his arm.

  Before Ahren could answer, Falk and Uldini came out and walked up to them. ‘On the saddle with you, page, we need to get a move on’, his master snarled brusquely. Falk and Uldini mounted their horses and ignored the stranger completely.

  The man bowed slightly and said, ‘another time, perhaps’, before stepping away.

  Ahren got up on his saddle too and they rode off.

  ‘What did that odd fellow want?’ asked Falk as soon as they were out of earshot.

  Ahren shrugged his shoulders. ‘I think he was a priest, but I’m not sure’.

  ‘Be careful at the trading posts. They’re full of madmen and charlatans’, added Uldini.

  That explained why his master had pulled him away from the conversation so coarsely.

  They left the crossroads behind them and now they were climbing a small incline. Ahead Ahren now saw a line of red painted stakes in the ground that created an undulating line as far as the horizon. He gasped in amazement for it was
a stunning sight. The red stakes were greater than a man’s thickness and towered a dozen paces into the sky. The distance from one stake to the next was twenty paces at most and so they created an impression of a threatening wall as you rode alongside them. This effect was even more impressive because of the contrast on either side of the stakes. To his left Ahren saw farms and fields and castles set in undulating grass. To his left, however, the grass had not been cultivated as far as the eye could see. The wind blew across the meadows and hills and the long grass billowed like the waves of a large lake. The landscape was sublime and somehow deeply moving and Ahren found himself stopping and staring at it.

  Uldini laughed and said, ‘there’s no-one who sees the Green Sea that’s unmoved. There’s a saying in the Eternal Kingdom, ‘a person has only live once they’ve seen the two seas, the green one and the blue’. And I think that definitely true’.

  They rode in a gentle curve along the trade road until it turned sharply just in front of the red stakes and then ran along them in a northwards direction. From the edge of the road Ahren could stretch out his arm and touch the smooth wood with his finger.

  ‘Better not touch it’, ordered Falk severely. ‘This is the border between the Knight Marshes and the Green Sea. Any crossing over without clansmen escorting you is punishable by death.

  Ahren pulled his finger back quickly, as if the wood was burning hot. ‘Why are they so strict?’ he asked curiously.

  His master answered, ‘the way it looks there now, it used to look the same three hundred lengths further east’. He had pointed first at the untamed wilderness and then at the cultivated countryside. ‘The knight Marshes was a small coastal region which kept expanding inland. The clans protested and many agreements and promises were made only to be broken again by the knights. But when they had taken control of half the land, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The clansmen massacred any further settlers, painting their building timbers with their victim’s blood, and put up the poles as a warning to never again overstep the boundary to the Green Sea. Of course, there were some more military operations to seize more land but there were no towns that could be laid siege to. Only nomads with fast horses and first-class archers. In the end, the knights realized that they could only lose and so the border was fixed. And because nobody wants to step too close to the red stakes, the border was turned into a trade route. Both sides are always eyeing each other up and there are many armed guards patrolling the route. That’s why there are so few assaults’. Falk paused and then said with force, ‘keep to the path. Never go between two stakes. You don’t know who’s watching’.

  He pointed at the green hill and Ahren saw a painted head ducking out of sight in knee-high grass. The young man shuddered and guided his horse to the right side of the road to be as far away from the mysterious stakes as possible.

  There were small, squat hostels in this section of the trade road, which also served as border garrisons. Ahren saw many armed border guards and also some knights, so the travel party preferred to stay in their room unless Ahren was practising. Falk’s ranking as a knight ensured they remained undisturbed and Ahren made steady progress in his training.

  They rode alongside the red stakes day in, day out, and Ahren began to grow used to their imposing size. His archery training only took place on the right side of the route now, but soon their days were following a steady routine.

  The days passed by and the weather was, but for a few wet days, friendly as the summer reached its highpoint. At home the master craftsmen and women would be setting their Apprenticeship Trials and for the first time Ahren felt something like homesickness. The world seemed enormous to him now, as had been travelling for weeks alongside the vast plains of the Green Sea. He realized that his Deepstone world with all its problems had been very small indeed.

  In an effort to distract himself from these thoughts, he threw himself into the target practice Falk set for him, and his archery skills on horseback made a marked improvement, even if his horsemanship still left something to be desired. The ever-growing Culhen revelled in playing fetch and his head was now up as far as Ahren’s hips. He was now the size of a fully-grown wolf and Falk expected him to stop growing soon.

  One bright summer’s day during their fourth week in the shadow of the stakes, Ahren saw a long strip glimmering on the horizon. At first he thought it was just a mirage, but the phenomenon remained constant. Falk saw his apprentice’s questioning look and said, ‘that’s Eathinian, eternally green, an enormous forest that stretches the entire width of the continent. An almost straight length of untouched nature tended to by the elves – from the very beginning’.

  Ahren heard the yearning and joyful anticipation in his master’s voice and was infected by it. At night he pondered what surprise awaited him in the land of the elves and he became increasingly curious and impatient. Their slow progress towards the forest felt like torture and Ahren reckoned it would be another good week before they reached the home of the forest elves.

  One morning Ahren was daydreaming about elves when Falk suddenly shook him by the shoulder. It was a dull day, the low clouds were slowly moving across the sky and the darkness suggested the travellers would soon be soaking wet. The young man sat up in his saddle and gave his master a questioning look. He didn’t return his look however but whispered out of the corner of his mouth. ‘Don’t arouse suspicion but untie your bow from the saddle and open the quiver. We’re about to be ambushed’.

  The apprentice was about to crane his neck to see the danger, but Falk hissed sharply without moving his head, ‘leave that, or do you want us all to die?’

  Ahren slumped back down and looked for all the world like a daydreaming young man, while he secretly prepared bow and arrows for action. The blood was pounding in his ears and it was taking him longer than usual because his hands were shaking. Knowing they were in imminent danger was bad enough, but not being able to look for it was pure torture for the young man.

  Falk continued to speak quietly. ‘Selsena warned me earlier that she’s receiving a lot of hatred and anger. Whoever’s lying in wait there must have a couple of really shady characters among them if she can sense their feelings over such a long distance’.

  ‘I can’t do much with magic’, murmured Uldini. ‘We’ve another few days of unshielded travel through open countryside and I’m glad that the Dark Ones have lost our track. The magic nets of the Ancients have done their job and caused the necessary distraction. If I cast a strong magic spell now, the enemy will be on top of us immediately’.

  ‘Can you throw a small magic net so we know how many and where they are? asked Falk quietly.

  Uldini nodded. ‘But that’s it then. Then I’ll defend us with a few little sleights of hand, but I’ll only intervene in an emergency’.

  He closed his eyes, made a few quick hand movements under his cloak and said something in the foreign language he always used when he was weaving his magic. He opened his eyes again five heartbeats later and said, ‘there are fourteen, three of them have crossbows, the rest have cudgels and swords. They’re a hundred paces away behind that big rock’.

  He pointed his chain at a rock formation which rose up to the right of the trade route. The terrain was still undulating grassland as it had been for the previous weeks, but here and there were fragments of rock that jutted up from the ground like the teeth of an ogre. They were dark on the surface and Uldini had explained to Ahren a few days previously that they had originally been parts of one enormous mountain that had been blown up during one of the major battles. The young man was terrified at the thought that such a massive mountain could be destroyed, and he looked at them in superstitious awe.

  But now this feeling was replaced by real fear for his life. Fourteen opponents. Falk had taught him enough about the art of war for him to realize that this superiority in numbers was justification to flee. But instead, his master was proceeding apace and deliberately raised the bow in his hand.

  �
�What are you doing?’ asked Ahren, confused.

  ‘They’re not using the left side of the road’, said the old man calmly. ‘Which means they have neither experience nor courage enough to challenge the Clanmen. They’ve dug their whole group in behind one rock instead of dividing themselves up. That says to me that we’re dealing with amateurs, and we know where they are, so the element of surprise is gone. We’ll force them to leave their cover and then you and I will pepper them with arrows until they flee. We’ll start with the crossbowmen’.

  Ahren was flabbergasted. He had shot animals when they had needed food and Dark Ones who had wanted to harm them or others. But now he had to direct his arrows at people.

  ‘Can we not just talk to them?’ he asked fearfully.

  Falk shook his head grimly. The feelings that Selsena is absorbing are pure bloodlust and greed. Those people don’t want to talk, at least not with us’.

  ‘But maybe we can persuade them?’ Ahren persisted. If he was going to have to shoot at someone, then only after he had tried everything to avoid it.

  His master nodded haltingly. ‘Alright then. We’ll give it a go. But I want to tempt them out anyway. Ahren, dismount and prepare your arrow. Loosen your sword just in case and if one of them shoots then drop down on one knee and fire at anything that’s moving in our direction. Culhen will give you cover. I’ll take on the crossbowmen’.

  His master wasn’t counting on Ahren to agree to this, that much was clear to the young man. But Ahren was clinging on to the hope that the imminent bloodbath could be avoided.

  Ahren did as he was bidden, his loyal wolf crouched beside him and as he was organizing his arrows in the quiver to make them easier to pull out he heard the thunderous voice of Falk, who had nonchalantly placed an arrow on his bow which he had set up in position on the saddle in front of him.