The Cavalier

Three

Survival



Fil gripped his spear tightly as he hid under the bed in the baker’s house. He did not know that the Bantrha and the cavalier were dead, but he could still hear feeding boargs outside. He had never been more terrified. Fighting and witnessing the massacre was traumatic enough, but sitting and waiting for boargs to feed on his friends and family while he hid, not knowing if a hungry boarg would find him and eat him alive, was more frightening than he could possibly imagine. He wondered how many survivors there were and how many people were hiding like he was? He knew that the cripple was in the baker’s oven. Lorna, the boy’s dying mother, had told him so. He would honor her wish and do his best to get the boy and any other survivors to safety.

His mind was swarming with questions. Once the boargs left, would the survivors be safe from them? Would the boargs return to feed? Were they better off hiding out in the mountains? Was his family alive? The last he’d seen of his father, Jorm, was at the north gate, fighting as part of the reserve line. His sister, Lara, who was only six, was hiding out with the other children and elderly at the grange. He did not know the whereabouts of his brother, Colson, nor did he know what had happened to his mother, Mell, who he had last seen helping with weapons at the south wall.

His body and mind were exhausted, but he didn’t want to risk falling asleep in case a boarg arrived looking for more food. Despite his efforts, his eye lids became heavier and heavier as he struggled to stay awake, the stress of the night taking its toll on the young man. The grunting and growling of feeding boargs grew more distant in his mind as he got sleepier and sleepier. Fatigue finally won the battle. His eyes closed as he fell into a deep sleep, still clenching the blood covered spear in his hand.

***

Jonas did not know how long he had been asleep. He awoke in the dark confines of the oven, soot covering his cramped body and the smell of charcoal and baked bread overwhelming him. He listened intently for several moments, trying to hear sounds of fighting outside. He had no idea if it was morning or still night and he was very frightened. No one had come for him and his heart ached to see his mother, or Gorum, or someone to tell him that everything was going to be fine. What had happened outside? Not knowing and feeling helpless filled him with a deep despair. He had to move, to get out of the tight confines of his hiding place, to get some answers to what had happened.

Slowly he used his wooden crutch to push the wood away from the opening. The wood landed heavily on the floor and light reached into the oven as he knocked more logs out of the way. It must be morning thought Jonas, the room lighter than it had been. Slowly he inched his way forward, feet first, until he got to the lip of the oven. He was about two paces up from the ground and he knew he’d have a small fall since his legs probably couldn’t catch him. Pushing his body all the way out of the oven he landed heavily on his legs, stumbling to the ground.

“You okay?”

The voice came from in front of him as Jonas struggled to look up and grab his crutch at the same time. He stood up slowly, his cramped legs shaking and his back aching from the tight confines of the oven. Fil stood before him, a long bloody spear in his hand. The boy’s face and body were splattered with blood, and at his waist he carried a hunting knife. Fil did not look like the boy he remembered, he seemed to have aged many years in one night.

“I think so,” Jonas nodded slowly, solemnly, his eyes huge as he tremulously voiced the question, “Wh-what happened?”

Fil didn’t know how to tell the poor boy that his mother was dead and that their town was destroyed. He was never great with words so he just kept it simple. “Everything is destroyed, Jonas. Our town is gone. The Banthra and the cavalier both died in the fight.”

“And my mother?” Jonas asked, although he knew the answer even as he asked the question.

“She is dead. Everyone is dead. My family…everyone is gone.” Emotions finally claimed Fil for the first time. Tears poured down his face and he didn’t fight them, he let them come. He allowed grief to overwhelm him, for he knew that this would be the last time that he would grieve. The tears spilled forth, as he wept unabashedly for each member of his family and for all his friends and neighbors who had perished.

Jonas fell to his knees, his grief grabbing him roughly and weighing him down. He crumpled to the floor and cried in anguish. Fil stumbled towards him and held him in his arms as they both wept, trying to break the dam of pain and grief with a torrent of tears.

***

Jonas didn’t know how long he had laid there; time seemed to stand still. The tears were finally gone, replaced with numbness. He was empty, his mother was gone and there was nothing left.

He got up and slowly hobbled into the main room. He looked around at the carnage and saw two bodies against the wall, both with wool blankets covering their forms. Jonas stumbled past them in a daze, walking through the destroyed door into the fresh air.

All around him was blood, death, and despair. The carnage was beyond belief. He had never seen a dead body before, and now they were everywhere, torn and ripped, blood splattering the churned up snow and mud. Some had been eaten beyond recognition. He had to step over bodies, boargs and townsfolk both, some cut with swords and others killed by teeth and claw, the images burning in his mind, finding a permanent spot on his shelves of memories.

Jonas made his way to the south wall and saw two charred forms seared together in death. The snow had been melted in a perfect circle around them that must have been thirty paces in diameter. Jonas saw the cavalier’s dead horse, its underside burned horribly and its leg broken at an awkward angle.

As he scanned the destruction he saw faces that he recognized. Braal was dead, cut cleanly in half, many dead boargs surrounding him. Jonas stumbled to his knees and heaved uncontrollably, the contents of his stomach splattering the bloody ground. He knelt there panting for a few moments before he could stand back up, scanning the carnage again. There was Galen the hunter, Mason the leather maker, Jhol, the son of Bain, and many others. Everyone was dead.

As he looked around and made his way through the many bodies, he caught flickers of sunlight reflect off of something. He moved towards the shining object and saw a beautiful hunting knife about as long as his forearm lying on the ground. The handle was carved bone and the blade was so shiny and polished that it almost blinded him, the sunlight sparkling off its mirror like finish. Jonas recognized the blade. It was the cavalier’s.

Reaching down he picked it up. It seemed wrong to leave it resting in all the destruction. It was warm to the touch, as if it were alive. He slid the blade into his belt just as he saw Fil move toward him, his face hard and determined, carrying a huntsman’s pack on his shoulders.

“We have to go, the boargs may come back and all this blood will certainly attract animals and who knows what else.” Fil had a short sword strapped to his side and a bow and quiver was lashed to the pack that he wore. He still held his spear in his hand.

“Where are we going? I can’t walk fast enough to keep up with you,” Jonas said with apprehension.

“I know. But I will not leave you. We are all each other have now. My plan is to head into the mountains. My father has a cave that he uses during the summer for hunting. I know its location and a mountain lake lies near. The cave has dry wood and a few supplies that are kept there for emergencies. We need to hide for a while and let the winter snows subside before we can travel.”

“How far away is it?”

“A half a day’s walk. Don’t worry, we will go slowly. We have no other options,” Fil replied firmly, leaving no room for discussion.

Jonas looked around at the town sadly and then looked back at Fil. Fil’s eyes were determined and Jonas knew that he was right. They could not stay here. They didn’t even have the time or strength to bury their loved ones. “Okay, Fil. Let me get my things.”

***

The long walk was grueling, probably the hardest thing physically that Jonas had ever done. Not to mention the weight of emotions that he carried as an additional burden. He could not stop thinking about his mother, the only person who ever cared for him. His body felt drained, every step weighed down with sorrow. He had walked with his mother in the woods before, but usually no more than an hour or two, and they generally stuck to the game trails.

The first half of the hike went gradually up hill, but they used the game trails available to them which made it a little easier for Jonas. As they climbed higher into the mountains, parts of the terrain became so steep it was almost impossible for Jonas to use his crutch. His hands and feet bled from several blisters and he began to despair that they wouldn’t make it by nightfall, for the sun was just starting to set.

“How much longer, Fil?” asked Jonas, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“We are almost there, not much longer. You’ve done well, but we need to get there before dark. Can you do it?” asked Fil.

Jonas, knowing the sacrifice Fil was making for him, somehow found the energy to reply, “I can.”

The sun’s comforting light began to recede behind the massive pines as they dropped down towards a beautiful small mountain lake. Fil led the exhausted Jonas to a cave that was nestled on the north side of the lake. The cave was small, about thirty paces deep and fifteen paces wide. In the back corner was a pile of dry wood, some cooking pans, and a tinderbox. Near the entrance was a circle of soot covered stones surrounding several dry pieces of wood lying atop dried moss and small pieces of tinder. The supplies were the same that Fil and his father had left several months ago. Fil’s father always taught him the mountain way of leaving the makings of a fire when you left a home, whether it was a cabin, a simple shelter, or a cave. It could make for a comfortable return on a cold day or save the life of some weary traveler in bitter conditions. Fil was thankful for that lesson now. They were both tired and Fil didn’t think that he would have the energy to hunt the snow-covered forest for dry wood.

Jonas was exhausted, falling to the ground to rest. Fil quickly lit the fire and the welcome flames leaped up, chasing the cold mountain air away. The heat from the fire bathed Jonas and soothed his tired body, and within minutes he was asleep. Fil gathered up Jonas’s wool blanket and covered his body.

“Sleep well, Jonas. You did well today.” Fil was impressed with Jonas’s grim determination and strength during the hard climb.

Jonas’s night was filled with vivid dreams. He dreamt that he was walking along the edges of a frozen lake, the very same lake they were camping by, when he saw a little fawn scrambling on the ice. The ice began to break and crack, causing the deer to struggle more.

Jonas set the crutch down and lay on his belly on the ice. Slowly, he crawled closer and closer to the frightened deer. When he was within five paces of the deer the ice broke and the deer’s hind legs went into the water. Jonas struggled closer, reaching out towards the panicked deer, straining to grab its front legs to pull the scared animal to safety. The ice around him began to crack and weaken. He surged forward with one last try to save the deer.

The ice suddenly gave way and he fell into the freezing water. In a panic, he kicked and struggled with the deer, but his frozen crippled limbs couldn’t support his weight. Slowly he began to sink into the numbing water.

Everything began to slow. The deer was sinking next to him, just staring at him. Then the deer began to glow a brilliant white and light shot forth from the animal like an explosion.

The panic left him and he found himself lying in the snow at the edge of the woods. He was no longer wet and his body felt warm and comfortable. Blinking several times he saw a glowing form standing before him. The light slowly faded away revealing a magnificent warrior wearing silver armor and a helm with two large deer horns. The warrior was carrying a silver shield embossed with a blue and silver oak tree.

The figure stepped towards Jonas and kneeled at his feet. The soldier took off the great helm to reveal long flowing black hair and a face so beautiful that Jonas couldn’t breathe. Her beauty and presence was overwhelming.

“You did well, Jonas,” the lady whispered to him. Her voice was soft, but powerful.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“You will know soon enough. Why did you try to rescue the deer?” asked the raven haired woman.

“I don’t know. It needed my help. I didn’t have time to think about it.”

“But you are a cripple. You can barely move,” she said with no hint of scorn.

“I was better off than the deer,” Jonas replied smoothly.

The lady smiled and touched his arm with her gauntlet covered hand. “Well spoken,” she replied, her melodic voice warming him to his soul. “Now, wake up, we will meet again”. Her hand glowed brightly as she touched him and Jonas felt a powerful surge of energy enter his body and warm his very soul. He didn’t ever want the feeling to go away. The warmth flowed through his body and exploded within him.

Jonas awoke with a jolt, his back arching and his body rigid. He was sweating profusely and breathing hard as he struggled to regain control of his body. After a few moments he was able to relax and he looked around the cave hoping to find the warrior woman. The dream seemed so real, but she was nowhere to be seen, the cave was empty; the fire burning low next to him.

Getting up, he looked around the room for his crutch. Then it struck him. I just got up on my own! Jonas screamed in his head. I didn’t use my crutch! Jonas suddenly stumbled, his right leg giving out on him. As he neared the ground he put out his right hand to brace his fall, and his body complied with his will, his arm lurching out to cushion his decent. He stopped himself from falling, something he had never been able to do. Jonas was now on his knees and he was staring at his hands in shock. He tried to wiggle his fingers and to his surprise they moved slowly, like they were frozen, but they moved as he commanded them too. They were sore and tight, but he could move them, although somewhat awkwardly. Jonas’s lips parted and his teeth emerged in a smile of wonder and happiness.

“I can move my hands,” he commented to himself with more surprise. Jonas looked around for his crutch and saw it lying next to him. Instead of reaching for it, he used his arms and legs to try and lift his body off the ground. His thin frame slowly rose until he was standing and wobbling on his own feet. He focused on his muscles and willed his body to stop shaking. It took him several seconds but he was finally able to keep his body relatively still. He smiled again, and on a whim he tried to jump. To anyone watching it would have looked pathetic. His body lifted off the ground several inches before he landed on his feet and stumbled to the ground again. To Jonas it felt wonderful and he began to laugh and roll on the ground uncontrollably.

Fil walked into the cave carrying a load of firewood. He looked at Jonas on the ground with bewilderment and concern. Looking around to find the source of Jonas’s amusement he asked, “Jonas, what’s so funny? Are you okay?”

Jonas stopped rolling around, slowly lifting his body off the ground, smiling the entire time.

Fil stared at him, dropping the wood he was holding onto the ground, his mouth agape with shock. “What happened? You are moving your body! You look different…your face looks different. You look normal…meaning no offense,” he replied quickly.

Jonas walked awkwardly toward Fil, slowly placing both hands on his shoulders. “Fil, I am normal. I am healed. Well, I think I am. My body is weak but I feel amazing. I can talk without difficulty, my muscles feel much looser, and…” Jonas noticed Fil staring at his chest. “What is it? Why are you looking at my chest?”

“Jonas, have you seen your chest yet?”

“What do you mean?” Jonas asked as he backed up and looked down at his bare chest. What he saw was shocking. His entire torso was covered with a blue and silver mark, a giant oak tree, exquisitely created and lined with sparkling silver. They both stared at it in awe. It was obviously created by magic; no human could make something as intricate and beautiful as what they saw on his chest.

“In Ulren’s name, what happened to you?” asked Fil.

The possibilities came to Jonas in a flash of understanding. The dream, the deer, the dark haired warrior with her gleaming shield bearing the oak tree, and that exact symbol now embossed on his chest. He looked up at Fil with wonder. “I do not know,” Jonas stammered in confusion and excitement at the same time.

***

Jonas and Fil sat around the morning fire while Jonas explained to Fil the dream he had and how he awoke with the mark on his chest. Fil listened intently.

“What do you think?” asked Jonas after he completed his story.

“I don’t know. It all seems so unbelievable, but here you are able to move your body as it should, with an incredible mark on your chest that just happens to be the symbol of Shyann, our goddess. I don’t know why it happened, but I think you’ve been God Marked,” Fil replied as he added another log to the fire.

“You mean like how Airos the cavalier was?” Jonas asked.

“I think so.”

“But why me? Why did she mark me?” Jonas asked in wonder.

“I don’t know, but I imagine you will find out. I think that maybe we need to take you to a priest and try to get some answers.”

“I don’t even know where the nearest temple is located. I’ve never even been more than a few hours walk from Manson,” Jonas replied with apprehension. He absently rubbed his hands together, smiling at the simple movement that just last night he could not do.

“I know there is a temple in Finarth. Besides, that is where I want to go when the snows subside anyway. We will travel together. What do you think?” Fil asked.

“Why do you want to go to Finarth? The trip would take us over a month on foot.”

“I have nothing left here. I’m going to Finarth to join the king’s army. I want to learn to fight. I want a chance to seek revenge on whoever did this to my home. You must understand that,” Fil said.

Jonas looked up at Fil and their eyes locked. I too have nothing left thought Jonas, flexing his arms in amazement. Learning to fight, to protect the weak, to ride a horse and wield a sword, all things that he believed he would never be able to do. Now it was a possibility, because Shyann had given him a chance. Airos was right. The gods have a plan for everyone, even me, thought Jonas.

Jonas looked up at Fil seriously. “I will go with you, Fil. I will search out a priest and I will learn to fight with you.” He reached out and grasped Fil’s hand in the warrior’s hand shake that he had seen the men of Manson do many times. He grasped Fil’s forearm tightly while Fil in turn grabbed his.

Fil squeezed his arm firmly and smiled. “After the winter snows, we leave for Finarth.” His smile grew wider now that they had a plan.

***

The first part of winter went by quickly for Jonas. He had never felt more alive in his life, but his body was very weak and he still had limited movement. He did not have the muscle strength for running, climbing, or anything too strenuous. The first thing he had to do was train his body to listen to his mental commands, something it was not used to doing. Most of his days were spent hiking in the snow, walking the animal trails, and even running where he could as his endurance grew. His goal was to strengthen his muscles so that they could support him normally and after several weeks he began to feel different, stronger with quicker reflexes.

After a month or so he was able to do basic tasks without getting sore or stumbling. His body was fully healing. He began to push himself by climbing the cliff walls to strengthen his arms, fingers, and legs. Fil taught him how to shoot a bow and hunt, while Jonas taught Fil how to set the best rabbit snares and find wild vegetables and edible plants and herbs, although there was not much of the latter during the winter months. When the snows fell heavily, Fil showed Jonas how to make snow shoes from branches and rope and Jonas used the shoes to continue his long walks through the deep snow.

Jonas hated being cooped up in the cave. Since he was cured he never wanted to be idle again, the idea of not using his new muscles was unthinkable to him. He continued exercising daily as he took in the magnificent scenery the mountains had to offer. As his strength and endurance improved, his skinny frame began to fill out with muscle. Fil accompanied him often, but he did not fully share his desire to walk, run, or climb for no reason.

***



Jonas took his first deer on a cold snowy morning. Hunting was the mainstay of his village and a man’s worth was often based on what he could provide. It was believed that the deer and wild game of the Tundrens were provided by Shyann herself, and she rewarded the patient hunter with the most magnificent animals. But because these animals gave them life, and they were gifts from Shyann, all hunters were taught at an early age to respect the animals that provided for them. Young boys accompanied their fathers on the hunts to learn the skills, and to respect nature and what it provided. Jonas had never learned to hunt because he could not physically take part, nor did he have a father to pass on those skills had he been able. But now he was being taught, and he absorbed the knowledge with the enthusiasm and excitement of one who would never take for granted the new opportunity presented to him. Fil was no expert hunter, but he passed on what his father had taught him and it was enough to form a foundation from which Jonas could build.

He had tracked the animal slowly for several hours. Fil had told him that he was a natural and that he had the patience to be a great hunter. He could move quietly and slowly, and his accuracy with the bow was amazing for someone who was just a novice. Jonas didn’t tell Fil that he had spent countless hours practicing, shooting the bow when he went out on his many hikes. He could drop a bird out of a tree at thirty paces.

The deer he was following was a huge buck. He caught a glimpse of it through some brambles before it bolted away. The rack was immense, and the large stag held it high with ease.

Jonas was slowly moving from tree to tree, his snowshoes making a quiet crunch as he walked, an arrow nocked to his bow string. His breath came out in billows of steam as he scanned the forest for his target. He had been following the animal for a long time in deep snow, up and down gulches and over logs, and he was getting tired. Luckily for him the deer was actually taking him back towards their cave, which meant that if he actually killed it, he would have a shorter distance to carry the meat. Just to his right he caught a glimpse of the animal as it moved towards some choice buds that had begun to emerge from the undergrowth as spring neared. The buck lifted its big head to feed, exposing its side perfectly. It was a long shot, maybe fifty paces, but Jonas was hopeful that he could pierce the animal’s heart. The last thing he wanted to do was wound the magnificent beast and cause it undue pain.

He pulled back on the powerful bow that Fil’s father had made, sighted in the animal, releasing his breath slowly as Fil had taught him, and fired. His heart pounded with anticipation as he narrowed his eyes on the path of the arrow. It whistled through the air as the big buck turned. It all happened so fast that it was hard for Jonas to see where the deer was hit, the animal bolted, dashing through the woods and disappearing completely.

Jonas tracked the blood trail up a narrow ridge until he finally found the dead animal at the edge of a cliff face. It seemed to Jonas that the buck had run to this spot, admired its beauty, and decided that this was a good place to die.

The beast was correct. The majestic animal was lying in the snow on his right, and Jonas stood and stared out at the valley below. The snow covered Tundren Mountains glittered in the morning sun. Jonas was suddenly overcome by a flood of emotions. He sat down next to the animal and began to cry. He might not ever see these mountains again. His mother, the only person that had ever cared for him, was dead, frozen, lying in her own blood in Gorum’s cabin. He had cried almost daily the first couple of weeks in the cave, but his grief had been tempered somewhat by all the possibilities that were now open to him. The sorrow was fueling his new body. And now it seemed this renewed grief would never go away. Nor did he want it to; he would never forget his mother. Wiping away the tears, Jonas silently wished that his mother could have lived long enough to see him walk and hunt and bring home the meat of his first deer.

He would make things right, he promised to himself. He would take his new gift and do something good. Jonas unsheathed the beautiful hunting knife that he had taken from the dead cavalier. The blade was always bright and razor sharp and much lighter than it should be for a knife that was as long as his forearm. It was the most magnificent weapon he had ever seen.

Wiping away the last of his tears he took the knife and began to skin the deer as Fil had taught him. There was no way he could carry it all back, so he took the best pieces with the idea that he would come back for the rest if the mountain animals didn’t scavenge the carcass. He wrapped the meat in the leather skin and stuffed it in his backpack.

Looking down at the dead animal he felt like he needed to say something. After all it was the first animal he had ever killed and Fil had explained to him that a good hunter should always thank the animal for its bounty.

“Thank you. Thank you for giving me your life, and your energy, so that I may grow strong to fight against the evil in the world.” It sounded good, and Jonas smiled, walking away through the snow.

The walk back to the cave was peaceful. The snow was falling lightly and the forest was quiet and calm. Jonas was nearing the lake when he suddenly got a burning sensation on his chest, the skin erupting with a fiery pain, causing him to fall to his knees. His mind was assaulted by several flashing images as his chest throbbed.

In his mind’s eye he saw the cave entrance, and nearing it was a large form, probably twice as tall as a big man. It was wearing dirty furs that covered a strong hairy body. In its right hand it carried a huge knotted club that was more a log than anything else. The image came and went leaving Jonas holding himself steady next to a tall pine, one hand rubbing his chest where the brief pain had erupted.

Then it came to him; it was a warning! “Fil,” Jonas whispered with fear. He quickly dropped his pack, picking up his bow he ran as fast as his snowshoes could carry him towards the cave entrance.

He was panting with exertion as he neared the cave, but he was right. Lumbering towards the cave mouth was a huge ogre. The beast was walking slowly, sniffing the air with its grotesque nose as if it were tracking something. Jonas knew that it must have detected the scent of Fil, the fire, or something that grabbed its attention. Jonas had to warn Fil or he would be trapped inside the cave with no escape route. He had never seen an ogre before, but he had heard from others that they were big and strong and they loved human flesh. They were not often seen but they were known to inhabit the Tundren Mountains. According to the stories he had heard they were not very bright and Jonas was hoping that would work to their advantage.

Jonas quickly and quietly dashed from tree to tree closing the gap between them. He was frightened and his heart pounded in his chest. The monster was huge, but Jonas willed himself to calm down, taking slow deep breaths as he came within bow range of the beast.

Suddenly the ogre turned and sniffed the air behind him. Jonas knew that the breeze was blowing towards him so there was no way the ogre would smell him. Unfortunately the wind direction made it so Jonas could clearly smell the ogre, and it was a strong scent of animalistic musk mixed with the odor of wet and dirty fur, probably from the skins the thing wore over most of its powerful body. Jonas ducked behind a large tree and pulled back tighter on the nocked arrow, ready to fire if need be. Jonas slowly peeked around the tree and saw the ugly beast sniff the air. Large gaping nostrils flared in hopes of detecting a potential meal. Its cave-like mouth was slightly agape, exposing large yellow fangs. Small beady eyes were buried deep in a thick bony brow and its misshapen head was covered in a filthy mat of hair that hung past its shoulders.

The ogre turned around, starting back towards the cave’s mouth, its massive tree trunk legs sinking deep into the snow with every step.

Jonas looked around, unsure of what to do. If the monster saw him there was no way that he could out run the beast’s long strides in the snow. He would be forced to fight, and that was something that Jonas knew would not end well. Maybe Fil wasn’t even in the cave, but that was unlikely and Jonas knew that he couldn’t take that chance.

Looking around frantically, Jonas was praying for a miracle. He looked up and got an idea. Quickly he unlaced his snow shoes; quietly strapping the bow to his back he began to climb a large pine tree, holding his breath as he tried to be silent. He pulled himself up to a height of about ten paces. Taking up his bow he re-nocked an arrow, aiming through a hole in the branches. He could clearly make out the beast that was about eighty paces away. It was a long shot but the ogre was huge and Jonas knew that he wouldn’t miss its broad back.

He aimed at the center of the ogre’s torso and slowed his breathing down, his nerves causing his bow arm to shake and threatening his aim. He closed his eyes and thought of his friend that might be in that cave. Focusing on his rapid heartbeat he concentrated on its rhythm. Taking deep slow breaths the beating of his heart began to slow.

After he calmed himself, he opened his eyes, sighted in the beast, let out a slow breath, and released the shaft with a twang. Quickly he nocked another and before the other arrow hit its mark he already had the second arrow flying through the air. The first arrow struck the beast in its lower back. The ogre bellowed with pain, turning around to take the next arrow right in the hip. Again the beast roared and looked around for its assailant.

Jonas could see that the arrows did not sink in deep, the monster’s thick skin and the dirty furs that clothed him served as protection. The beast lumbered through the snow closer to his tree, searching and sniffing the air for its attacker. Jonas could clearly see the beast’s eyes blazing with anger as it roared defiantly into the woods.

Jonas’s heart resumed its rapid beat and his arms trembled with fear, but he could do nothing else but draw back his bow again and let a shaft fly. This time the ogre saw the movement and looked up in the tree just as the arrow slammed into the side of its neck. Unlike the first two arrows, this arrow sunk in deep, halfway to its fletching, and the ogre stumbled backwards in pain.

Just then Fil came running out of the cave mouth holding his spear out before him, his eyes bulging with fright as he saw the ogre stumbling in the snow not more than thirty paces from him.

“Fil, I’m coming!” yelled Jonas as the ogre turned to face Fil. Jonas quickly began to climb down the tree, dropping the last few paces and landing heavily in the snow, his feet sinking in deep. He grabbed his bow, nocked another arrow and stumbled through the deep snow to get to the clearing by the ogre.

The monster grabbed the shaft sticking from its throat and yanked out the arrow. Blood poured from the wound and the ogre roared in pain as it turned from Fil to face Jonas again. The beast’s eyes narrowed in anger and it charged the little human who had caused him so much pain.

Fil took in the scene quickly and did the only thing that he could do. He ran after the enraged monster with his spear point leading the way, screaming in defiance hoping to distract the monster from its charge. It didn’t work and Fil knew that he wouldn’t reach Jonas in time before the behemoth ran him over and crushed him into the snow.

Jonas stopped in fright, the roaring ogre bearing down on him with incredible speed. Its huge legs pounded through the snow and Jonas felt each step reverberate through his paralyzed body. The thing looked big from the tree, but now its massive size was almost overwhelming. He knew he would be easily crushed. Jonas’s fear filled eyes were drawn to the huge tree trunk club that swung easily in its meaty hand.

That thought finally broke through his fear. He dropped to his knee, bending the great bow back as far as he could and taking careful aim. He knew he would only have one shot before the ogre’s massive tree club crushed him to oblivion.

Strangely, Jonas’s mind calmed and everything seemed to slow down. He breathed slowly, took aim, and waited until the beast was ten paces away before he let the shaft fly. Jonas dropped the bow, unsheathing his hunting knife as the black shaft pierced the charging monster’s open mouth.

The ogre’s roar was cut short, its head snapping back violently. The behemoth stopped about six paces from Jonas, dropped its huge club to the snow, and grasped for the shaft in its mouth. Jonas could just make out the feathered end sticking several inches beyond its sharp fangs. The creature stumbled around and then it clamped its mouth shut, snapping off the end of the arrow. Its eyes bulged, a look of pain and confusion crossing its face.

Suddenly its back arched and the ogre let out a gurgling roar, turning around and blindly swinging its huge arms at its attacker. Jonas saw Fil yank his spear from the ogre’s back, leaping out of the way of the flailing monster and its powerful arms.

Fil and Jonas both circled the ogre as the monster stumbled around in pain. Finally the creature fell to its knees, its eyes rolled back in its head, and the ogre crashed face first into the snow.

Fil and Jonas both looked at each other, their eyes wide with shock and fear, their weapons held out defensively in front of them.

“Is it dead?” asked Jonas, his voice shaking with fright now that the danger seemed to be over.

“I think so,” replied Fil as he neared the ogre. Fil unsheathed his hunting knife and slowly stepped up near the ogre’s head, which was as big as Fil’s torso. Fil kicked the beast hard in the head to make sure. Then he slid the sharp blade under its neck and slit the beast’s throat. Blood poured from the wound, soaking into the white snow. “He is now,” Fil said as he wiped off the blade on the ogre’s fur cloak.

Jonas sat down in the snow, suddenly exhausted. “Is that an ogre?” he asked.

“I believe it is. I’ve never seen one myself but I’ve heard descriptions,” answered Fil as he sat down in the snow next to Jonas. “Well done, Jonas. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead. Thank you,” stated Fil sincerely.

Jonas looked at Fil, his face ashen with fright as he tried to calm his nerves.

“It was nothing. You would’ve done the same.”

“I mean it. You saved my life,” Fil said again.

“It was a lucky shot.”

“I don’t think so. Like I said, you’re skilled with a bow,” replied Fil.

Jonas absently stroked the wood bow, his hands still shaking from the adrenaline pumping through his system. “If I didn’t have your bow then I think we’d both be dead.”

“You’re probably right,” Fil agreed.

They both sat in silence for a while, taking in what could have happened.

Fil finally got up and placed his hand on Jonas’s shoulder. “You know, not many warriors can claim that they’ve killed an ogre by themselves.”

Jonas looked up and smiled. “You stabbed him with your spear. I didn’t kill it alone,” he replied.

“Yes you did. That shaft in its mouth killed it. I think it just took a while for the stupid monster to know that it was dead.”

Jonas got to his feet picking up the bow. “Well, we make a good team anyway,” he replied. Fil smiled, picking up his spear from the snow.

“Yes we do,” Fil replied as they made their way toward the cave mouth.

“Guess what?” asked Jonas.

“What?”

“I killed my first deer today,” Jonas proudly announced.

“Now we can call you, Jonas, the ogre and deer slayer,” Fil joked. They nervously laughed together as they entered the warm cave, both knowing how close they had just come to dying.

***

It took about six weeks for the winter snows to subside and the first signs of spring to appear. The ice and snow began to melt as the temperature warmed. The forest was a bustle of activity as the many animals took joy in the warm sun. Chirping birds flittered from tree to tree while busy chipmunks ran across the forest floor digging and foraging for food.

Although the boys dreaded the thought of returning to their destroyed town, they knew they had to go back into Manson and gather whatever supplies they could find. They needed new clothes, shoes, blankets, and as much food as they could carry. They wanted a second bow and more arrows as well. Then they would start their long trek to Finarth.

Fil was apprehensive about the journey, and though Jonas was also reluctant to return to Manson, he was also excited for the adventure, for the chance to use his body and muscles, and for the chance to find out more answers about his God Mark. On several occasions Fil and Jonas had discussed the night when the ogre had attacked them. They both agreed that something or someone had warned Jonas that the ogre was near. How else could they explain the burning pain on his chest and the images that flashed in his mind? The question was, why were the gods getting involved in their lives? For two small town boys, the thought was overwhelming and a bit unsettling.

***

Manson was as bad as they thought it would be. Patches of snow still covered the ground, but not enough to blanket the many bodies still remaining. It was obvious to them both that animals and other scavengers had taken full advantage of the hundreds of corpses that were left behind. The bodies that had not been taken away by boargs or other larger animals showed signs typical of being in the elements for an entire winter. Luckily the smell was not as bad as it could have been as the temperature was still below freezing for most of the day.

Jonas did not enter Gorum’s home. He did not want to see the body of his mother, especially if she had been eaten by winter scavengers. He wanted to remember her as she was, not how she died, and he knew that if he saw her torn and dismembered body that that image would forever be imprinted in his mind. So he avoided the home, as did Fil his own, and they both quickly performed their tasks and departed the town.

After the short re-supply trip to Manson, they began their sojourn east. They pushed themselves hard the first day, eager to get as far away from the town as they could, to distance themselves from the memories of that horrible night. The sun had set and the golden rays of warmth had long dropped behind the tall pine trees, leaving the mountain trail bathed in the cold shadows of dusk. Jonas and Fil set up camp in a clearing just off the trading road. It was still cold and patches of snow decorated the landscape.

“Should we light a fire?” asked Fil, leaning his pack against a fallen log and stretching his sore back.

“Some warm oats would do us well right now,” responded Jonas. He, too, took off his pack and looked at Fil, hoping that he would make the decision on whether or not to light a fire. It was always a risk to light a fire at night. They both knew it, but the desire for warm food after a long hard hike began to overcome their caution.

Fil shrugged his shoulders as he dug in his pack for his tinderbox. “Let’s light a brief fire, cook our oats, and then we’ll put it out.”

“Good plan,” Jonas agreed. He quickly started a small hot fire while Fil prepared the meal of oats and salt. The food was good and they washed it down with cold mountain water. The oats warmed their bellies and they leaned back against a log and relaxed. The icy fingers of night were creeping into the clearing, leaving them in complete darkness except for the small amount of light radiating from the glowing red coals left over from their fire.

“Should we douse the coals?” asked Jonas.

“No, the light is nice, not to mention the warmth. The light is minimal. I think it is fine,” answered Fil, pulling his traveling cloak over his shoulders. Jonas shivered, wrapping his wool cloak around him tightly, hoping to keep the chilling cold away.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Jonas finally spoke. “Fil, will you tell me how my mother died?” Jonas had never worked up the courage to ask Fil about what he saw that dreadful night. He didn’t think he could take it, but now he was stronger, and he wanted to know. He wanted to know how she suffered so he would never forget her. The news would be hard to hear, but he was prepared for that.

Fil glanced up and Jonas could just make out the reluctance in his eyes under the faint glow of the coals. “Are you sure, Jonas…you really want to know?”

“I do. Please tell me what you saw.”

Fil hesitated. “Okay, but it will not be easy to hear.”

“I need to know,” was all Jonas said.

Fil sighed. “I will tell you what I saw.” He took a deep breath. “The battle was not going well. Everywhere the townspeople were being killed. The boargs were unstoppable. The cavalier had left to fight the Banthra and he gave orders to Gorum to get as many people to safety as he could. So I followed Gorum to his home where I assumed he was gathering up you and your mother. Instead I find a boarg feeding on his remains. I remember feeling so much anger. It all just exploded out when I saw what the boarg had done to Gorum. I went berserk and stabbed it in the back with my spear. The beast jerked away from me and I couldn’t remove my spear. It was injured, but it was not dead. The thing’s jaw was badly damaged, probably by Gorum, and my spear had pierced its back deeply, but it still came at me. I grabbed Gorum’s sword on the ground and swung at its neck as hard as I could. That finally killed the thing.” Fil paused for a minute to look at Jonas skeptically. “You sure you want to hear the rest?”

“Yes, please, Fil. I want to know,” Jonas responded, his eyes wide with emotion.

“Okay,” Fil whispered. “It was then that I heard a noise against the wall near Gorum. It was your mother. She was partly covered by a dead boarg, and I rushed to her side. She held a bloody knife in her hand. The boarg’s throat had been cut. She had killed it but she was beyond any help. Her throat had been cut open by the boarg’s talons.”

Fil stopped for a moment as Jonas wiped tears from his eyes. “Was she alive? Did she say anything?” Jonas asked, his voice catching in his throat.

“Yes, she was barely alive. With her last strength she grabbed my wrist and told me where you were hiding, and made me promise to take care of you. She was not in pain Jonas, she was just thinking of you,” Fil said lamely in an attempt to lessen Jonas’s grief.

There was silence for a few moments as Jonas regained his composure, wiping the remaining tears from his face. “Thank you for telling me. I’m glad that you did.”

Suddenly a low growl emanated from the darkness not too far behind them. Jonas’s body went rigid. He reached for his recently claimed short sword lying next to him. Fil reacted similarly, grabbing his spear. They were both up and facing the forest behind them, their weapons held before them in shaking hands.

“What was that?” whispered Jonas.

“It sounded like a boarg,” replied Fil, grasping his spear tightly. His voice was dripping with fear but his stance was firm as his wide eyes scanned the darkness.

Just then, another growl came from behind them. Jonas spun to face the darkness holding his sword protectively before him. They were back to back, the darkness of the night sucking away the light as the red embers slowly died. They said nothing, too afraid to talk, and not sure what to say anyway.

Suddenly a loud roar erupted from the darkness followed by a gray shape flying through the air towards Fil. He leaped to the side, jabbing his spear at the attacking boarg. The spear tip hit the beast in the side as the huge beast scattered the remaining coals. The boarg howled in pain as it gripped Fil’s spear, snapping it like a twig.

Jonas rolled out of the way of the boarg to come up standing in darkness. Thankfully the moon was out and its bluish glow lightly blanketed the area. It was not much, but it was enough to barely illuminate a second boarg barreling towards him like a charging bull.

Jonas got his sword up just as the beast hit him with tremendous force, launching him through the air. He landed hard on his back. The air whooshed from his lungs as he struggled to get up. Miraculously he had managed to hold onto his sword, raising it in defense against the rushing boarg.

But he was not fast enough. The boarg lashed out with one of its large clawed hands, and Jonas, scurrying on his back, fought frantically with his sword, cutting the beast across the arm. The animal roared, and with lightning speed, used its other arm to grab Jonas’s neck. The boarg’s strong claws began to crush his throat. The pain intensified as the boarg squeezed, lifting Jonas into the air. He felt himself grow weaker but he still managed to swing his sword down toward the boarg’s arms. The boarg batted the weapon away with its other hand. Jonas felt his neck tighten as his airway was slowly choked off. His eyes began to blur and his head swam from dizziness as the boarg brought him closer to its open mouth.

Fil dropped the broken spear and drew his short sword from the sheath at his hip. He was just able to raise the blade as the boarg swung its clawed hand towards his chest. Stumbling backwards Fil chopped his sword down in a powerful swing, cutting the beast deeply across its forearm. But the animal continued its attack unfazed. The boarg roared, lashing out with its other hand, four sharp claws slicing shallow cuts across Fil’s chest as he leaned back from the attack. He stumbled further backwards, frantically trying to evade the animal’s deadly claws.

Jonas struggled and kicked, trying to free himself from the boarg’s iron grip. He managed to grab onto the animals thick hairy forearm with both hands and dug in his fingernails, hoping to break the beasts hold on him, but his efforts were to no avail. The animal kept squeezing and Jonas’s vision swam even further as his oxygen depleted brain began to shut down.

Suddenly, the grip loosened, and as Jonas gasped for air, his vision cleared. The boarg had dropped him to the ground. Howling in pain, the angry beast spun around towards the darkness. Jonas, lying on his back and holding his injured throat, could clearly see two white feathered arrows embedded in the boarg’s muscled back.

Out of the darkness, came a large fur covered body. In the grayness of night it looked like another boarg, but it wasn’t. The form materialized out of the darkness and moved toward the boarg with amazing speed, moonlight reflecting off a glimmering blade. The injured boarg lashed out with a clawed hand but the newcomer quickly ducked under the swing, slicing his glowing blade across the beast’s abdomen. Then the savior raced past the dying beast without a second look. Jonas couldn’t tell if the warrior’s sword was actually glowing or if it was just the reflection of the moonlight off the blade’s mirror like finish.

Fil tripped over a fallen log, swinging his sword left and right trying to keep the boarg away from him. He landed on his back and lifted his sword hoping to fend off the attack that he knew was coming.

The remaining boarg lashed out, its dangerous arm only a blur as it easily batted Fil’s sword out of his hand. Instantly Fil felt the boarg’s tremendous weight as it landed on top of him. He grimaced, struggling under the weight and strength of the animal, feeling the boarg’s claws dig into his flesh. The boarg lifted its head towards the moon and roared defiantly, eager to feed on the flesh of its prey.

Jonas followed the warrior with wide eyes as he leaped over the burning and scattered coals, his glimmering blade spinning through the air toward the last boarg who was now on top of Fil.

The boarg’s roar was cut short as the razor sharp sword sliced through its exposed neck. Blood spurted like a fountain from the gruesome wound as the animal’s head disappeared into the night.

The weight of the boarg disappeared as the beast fell to the side. Fil frantically scooted away from the dead body, wiping its blood from his face and eyes. He didn’t know what had happened and he could barely see anything in the darkness. Then a dark shadow of a man stood above him blocking out the moon’s light. He carried a shimmering blood stained blade in his right hand.

“Get up, boy. Ya don’t need to fear me,” the man said to Fil. His voice was deep and raspy. The shadow disappeared as the man moved away from Fil.

Jonas got up slowly, his hand still rubbing his injured throat. The man did not look at Jonas as he began to flick a few of the burning coals back into a small pile.

“Get wood, Jonas, a fire will help chase away de fear that is now gripp’n ur heart,” their rescuer said.

Jonas recognized the voice and the burly fur covered form that knelt by the embers. The man had added a few small sticks to the coals and a flame quickly erupted, painting the man’s face with an orange glow. His face was covered in hair, but Jonas could just make out a small smile as Tuvallus turned towards him.

“Good to see ya again, boy.”

The fire burned brightly and the heat was welcoming. Tuvallus was right; the bright warm flames chased away the fingers of fear that grasped his heart after the boargs’ attack.

Tuvallus was heating up some tea in a tarnished metal pot that hung over the dancing flames. The aromatic spices in the tea reminded Jonas of his mother. He lost himself in his thoughts for a moment before looking up at Tuvallus. The man was stirring the tea with a metal spoon.

“Thank you, Tuvallus for saving us,” Jonas said.

“Yes, we are in your debt,” added Fil with a nod.

Tuvallus looked up at Jonas and Fil. “You owe me nuthin,” he grunted. “My appearance was your luck, that is all,” he said brusquely.

“Maybe so, but you didn’t have to aid us, so we thank you nonetheless,” Jonas replied smoothly.

Tuvallus grunted again and nodded his head in acknowledgement. Then, taking a large metal spoon he ladled some hot tea into two cups. He handed them each a cup before pouring some for himself and leaning back against a log. Digging into his pack he pulled out a small wood box with a lid. He tossed the box to Fil who caught it, spilling a bit of his tea in the process. “Healing ointment...clean your cuts with water and dress the wounds with the ointment. It will help rid the wound of infection.”

“My thanks,” responded Fil as he set his tea down to clean his wounds. “How did you come across us, Tuvallus?” he asked.

“I was hunten when I came across a huge buck, the biggest I’d eva seen. I tracked it for a day and then it jist vanished….no sign…nutten. That is when I saw ur tracks, and the boargs’ tracks followun use. The tracks led me here…just in time it would seem.”

Tuvallus’s speech was fairly primitive. Years of living on his own didn’t make for lots of conversation, and in time his spoken language deteriorated, giving him just another reason not to interact much with people.

Fil glanced at Jonas, and Jonas wondered if he was thinking the same thing. Was Tuvallus’ sudden appearance just coincidence? Jonas couldn’t rule anything out considering what had happened to him. Jonas made a mental note to talk to Fil later in private.

“Tuvallus, I have never seen anyone fight like that. Where did you learn to do that?” Jonas asked.

Tuvallus drank from his steaming mug of tea before he answered. “I was a soldier in the Tarsinian army many years ago. Now, boy, when u goen to tell me what happened to ya?” Tuvallis asked, clearly changing the subject. “The last I saw of ya, you could barely walk. Now you be lookin fine.”

Jonas shifted uneasily, not sure how to respond to the burly mountain man. He looked at Fil who shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. So Jonas figured that he would tell Tuvallus the truth, at least half of it anyway.

“After our town was destroyed by the boargs, Fil and I hid out in the mountains until the winter snows subsided. One day I woke up and I could move my body. I was sore, and very weak, but I could move, although I’m not sure how. It took me months to gain my strength. But as you can see, I eventually did.” Jonas didn’t know what else to say so he just sipped his tea to fill the silent void.

“That’s it?” Tuvallus asked.

“Yes, that’s what happened,” answered Jonas.

“I went into Manson after de attack…not one survived. How did two boys live when no one else did?” He asked bluntly.

“I don’t know,” replied Jonas.

“I see. Well…I reckon there be more to the story than that, but makes no matter to me. I’ll be gone in the mornen.”

“Do you want to travel with us, Tuvallus?” asked Fil, hopefully.

Tuvallus grunted again, drinking the last of his tea and laying out his bedroll by the fire. “Good luck on yer travels,” he answered as he lay down by the crackling fire and closed his eyes.

***

The journey through the Tundren Mountains was long and arduous, but Jonas relished the hard work and actually welcomed his sore and tired muscles. It made him feel alive. Unfortunately, they soon ran out of food and they had to stop and hunt, set snares, and gather berries, roots and wild onions.

Finally, after three weeks of traveling, they began the descent on the east side of the Tundren Mountains. The trading road was old and well worn. Caravans made the long trek to deliver goods from Finarth, Tarsis, Cuthaine, and Nu-menell, to the western cities of Onett, Bitlis, and Mynos. Merchants brought their wares to Manson and the other mountain towns, and then continued west, finally arriving at the coast and the great Sea of Algard.

Jonas remembered vividly the days when the merchants would come to their town. There would be a week of celebration with lots of dancing and drinking as the merchants sold and traded their products. It was the only chance for the townspeople to buy spices and salted exotic meats from the east, jewelry and pottery from the craftsmen of Finarth, silk and cotton from distant lands, and if you were really wealthy, weapons and armor from the dwarven clans in Dwarf Mount.

Jonas never got to spend much time at the merchant tents because he was always picked on or beat up by the other boys, but his mother would always take him to see the rare goods, listen to the stories and music, and watch the dancers, ignoring the stares, taunts, and ridicule of the superstitious townspeople.

Jonas’s heart ached as he thought of his mother, but it was beginning to seem like a distant memory. The attack on their village had only been three months ago, yet it seemed like another lifetime. He had changed so much. Not only was his affliction gone, but his body was growing with strength every day, and he was gaining confidence with every step that he took. No longer was he the little cripple boy who could barely hold himself upright.

It was starting to get dark when they neared a crossroads, one road meandering to the right, while the other lead northeast.

Jonas sat down on a big boulder and took a drink from his water skin. “Which way do we go, Fil?”

Fil looked left and then right. He, too, was uncertain. “We should be heading southeast, which I think is to the right. I’m not exactly sure, but it’s almost dark so let’s camp here for the night and we’ll figure it out in the morning.”

“Alright,” replied Jonas. “Let’s look for a good spot off the main road.”

“Lead the way,” Fil responded.

They found a small clearing off the main road. It was a good spot, surrounded by large trees and covered in a soft moss. They ate a cold meal of dried venison, sweet salal berries, and some pine nuts that they had collected the previous day.

“We’re running out of food,” Fil commented tiredly as he laid out his bedroll.

“I know, I think we need to slow down and do some hunting,” responded Jonas, absently. He was holding the cavalier’s blade in his hand, his mind elsewhere.

Fil looked at him with concern as he lay down on his wool blanket. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking, that’s all.” Jonas looked up at Fil. “To be honest, I’m kind of scared.”

Fil got up on his elbow looking at his friend with concern. “What about?” asked Fil, with no hint of mockery.

“I don’t know,” Jonas answered. “Things have changed so fast. What are we going to do? Neither one of us has even been out of the Tundren Mountains. Now we have no home, no family, and we are heading to Finarth, a city we have only heard people talk about. And this symbol on my chest scares me. What does it mean?”

Fil sat all the way up and looked at Jonas seriously. “I’m scared too. Everything has happened so fast that it is just now beginning to sink in. The symbol on your chest is obviously Shyann’s mark, which means she has chosen you for something. I have no idea what her plan is, or why she marked you, but you must have faith that she will unveil her reason to you.” Fil reached out and gave Jonas a brotherly pat on his shoulder. “We’ll be okay.”

Jonas looked up and smiled at his friend. “Yeah, I know, and Fil,” Jonas paused, looking up into his friends eyes. “Thanks for not leaving me before, at the village.”

“No problem, we are family now, meant to be together. Our destinies are entwined. I can feel it. Now let’s get some sleep. I’ll take first watch,” Fil said smiling.