Chapter 1: Boating on Caer'Uengal

Ever since the rumors of skeletons started up, thought Tehnerick, Nothing is peaceful, and that won’t, can’t change for a long, long while. His statement was true for a fact, as, after a guard of the king’s men appeared in the middle of the night the past week, bearing ill news, the whole village had been thrown into panic. He himself, had not been that surprised about the news of the skeletons, but he hoped not to panic himself like the other villagers, so he just kept out of their way, most of the time tramping through the forested areas nearby, thinking his own opinions of the situation they were in.

There were others like him, who hadn’t been panicked in any way by the news, but they, dumbly, took the chance to hold conversation with the more scared population of the village, stating what they thought would happen, if anything did. Most of those people went over to the Fier’Dien, the local tavern, where they would normally say their ideas, usually holding large tankards of ale or beer while they were at it.

He had once gone over there, and listened to one of these people, but he had been quick to realize that they were just spouting nonsense.

‘Welcome, Welcome,’ was how many of them started their talks, before they went into depth about talking of their opinions and thoughts.

‘Now, as you are all here,’ began Faenagal, one of the more popular speakers, as a small crowd formed around him, ‘Let us start.’

Tehnerick had watched, not speaking, as Faenagal began to state his opinions.

‘As I said last time, these despicable creatures will, if they discover the location of the village, raid our stores, and take most of our valuables; as I’m sure you know, I mean, things like our earnings, family heirlooms, and suchlike.’

A few mutters ran through the group.

‘Or,’ Faenagal raised his hand for silence; ‘they might just destroy our crops, and burn down our dwellings, until nothing, apart from ash, and soot-blackened ground, as well as piles of rubble.’

Again, this set off more whispering, louder than the last time.

‘Still, whatever way, they will cause great devastation, and possibly deprive many of us of life.’

Tehnerick still stood, unmoving, as Faenagal continued.

‘I would say, that you lock up and hide your valuables, maybe in a cellar, if you have one.’

On the other side of the tavern, a half-hearted tune started up, played by a small violin, but as the player thought more and more about the bad situation they were in, the melodic notes drifted into a more melancholy tune.

‘That was what I did, at least. I, as soon as I heard the news, got all my coins, put ‘em in sacks, and chucked them down the stairs, into the wine cellar. My wife wasn’t too happy about this, as she has a large collection of her favorites down there, even less so when I told her that she had to give her jewelry to me, so I could sack it. Called my sacks filthy.’

He stopped for a moment until continuing, ‘She’s in a right old fury now, especially when I used her bottles to cover up the trapdoor!’

This set off some quiet laughing around the room.

‘Oh, but this really is serious,’ said Faenagal, ‘It’s no laughing matter. These skeletons could force us into poverty, with their kind of strength, or easily kill some of us.’

And with that, the small meeting was dismissed.

But then, as Tehnerick was going to leave, a strong hand tugged on his shoulder, and he turned to see Faenagal looking grimly at him. ‘Eh, I haven’t seen you before,’ Faenagal said, almost with a hint of suspicion in his voice. Before Tehnerick could answer he continued, saying: ‘Because, I think I have right to know my customers, and, how can I tell that you’re not going to go straight to the soldiers when I leave you, and dob me in.’

He then turned on his heel, and stomped to the back of the tavern, where his tankard of beer stood, unfinished.

Tehnerick recalled this, remembering about how many of these speakers were on warnings with the soldiers, as well as the ordinary village guard. He continued to walk down the path, his boots sticking slightly in the mud. Anyway he thought, Faenagal is a lousy man; he lives on beer and ale.

On both sides of him, were gnarled trees, indistinguishable because of their age, but bearing a resemblance to alders. Beside him, on his right-hand-side, was a thick ribbon of water, that flowed down between the two banks, before, after a while, vanishing into a copse of alders.

He followed its dwindling waters, until, he came to the copse, and the river turned sharply, running up a squat knoll, the grasses on both sides sodden, as the pale water rippled onto the mud. At the top, where the river ended, another part of the forest began, the trees standing with wider spaces between each one, than the forest behind. Behind the first ten or so lines of trees, two jagged rocks rose from the ground, their tops penetrating the leafy branches, edges mossy and irregular.

There was a small gap between the rocks, and through it, a hint of pale blue could be seen. He made off towards it, walking down the other side of the knoll, between the first few spaced trees. For another few minutes, he continued to walk down a sanded track, with the vast shapes of the rocks coming ever closer. As he got to the rocks, the path dwindled, becoming a thin ribbon between the slates. Tehnerick turned to his side, and managed to get himself through the gap.

Stepping onto the grass on the other side of the rocks, he took in his surroundings; the area was ringed by trees, and tufted grass ringed a lake, the grass breaking down into mud, as it met the water. At the far end of the lake, upon the banks, stood a small, wooden shack. Its roof was made of slate, while most of the lower part was wood, with the occasional framed window in between.

On Tehnerick’s side of the bank, was a short jetty, from which a boat was tied. He stepped into its wooden frame, and the boat immediately went lower into the water. Sitting down on one of the cramped wooden benches, he took up the oars, and pushed. The boat drifted forwards slightly, tugging on its rope. He freed the rope and the boat went forwards. At the back of the boat, was a small jumble of assorted fishing equipment; string nets, fishing rods and suchlike.

Fishing was a new hobby for him, as he had, before the soldiers came, despised fish and everything that had a relationship with it. But when they had come, and the villagers became flustered, he had taken it up, as it was one of the only peaceful activities to do outside the village. Casting his line out, he waited, until he felt the all-familiar tug on the line. Soon, a small fish was lying on the bench behind him, throat cut by a small knife. Putting his rod to the back of the boat, he unhooked the oars from the sides of the boat, and pulled them to and fro swiftly.

The boat moved further towards the center of the lake, and tall, jagged pieces of masonry began to stick out of the water, making him steer to fast for his liking around them. All of the ruins, were once a small fortress that was built over the lake, providing the nearby villagers a safe lodging, in case the skeletons attacked. But this plan had backfired, when, a group of villagers, including Tehnerick’s great-grandfather sought shelter, after having their village ransacked. The group were the only ones to escape from slavery. But, they didn’t know that the leading skeleton, Antioeul, had sent his archers and swordsmen after them, in a hope of recapturing or slaughtering them, if the chance came.

Unaware of this, the men had continued to walk around the forest, frightened and pale, until they had reached the lake. They had relaxed, stopping for a short break, and the skeletons took the chance. When the skeletons had attacked them, they had scattered, heading for the stone-made bridge that led to the great doors of the sanctuary. But the skeletons had followed them, and caught up. Tehnerick’s great-grandfather had been the youngest man, and effectively the fastest runner. He had been bidden entrance and the doors closed behind him, leaving the other men behind.

But, after the skeletons had recaptured or killed the other men, they had focused their eyes on another goal: Destroying the fortress. With their supernatural strength, the skeletons had crowded round the doors, and put so much pressure on them, so that the buckled, allowing them to storm the fortress. The only reason Tehnerick’s grandfather had survived, was because he hid.

It had an enormously bad part in Tehnerick’s family history, so he stared at it disdainfully. After passing through the ruins, he hooked the oars, and the boat began to drift slightly. Somehow, the sky seemed brighter than it had in the ruins. Perhaps it was the feeling of being somewhere that occurred in his family history, especially if it was a significant bad thing. He leaned back, resting against one of the benches behind him, as the boat drifted ever closer to the shore. But, as his boat gently knocked against the other shore, something stirred within the shadows.

A rustling started, before hastily stopping. Now aware of this danger, Tehnerick sat up, and jumped out, onto the shore, as the thing moved again. He cursed under his breath, as a group of skeletons left the cover of the trees, several meters to his left. They stood on the grass, rasping uncomfortably, as they felt the sunlight. In their hands, were thin, curved swords, the handles bound with leather. As they made towards him, rasping, he turned and ran, heading down the right-hand shore. They followed him, fidgeting with the swords in their hands as they ran. As he got to the other shore, heading for the rocks, they held their swords upright and sped up. Tehnerick reached the rocks, and, as the skeletons rounded the shore, he slid through the gap. Then, leaving the skeletons behind him, he started off down the sanded track, hoping to reach the knoll before the skeletons caught up.

A short while later, he was upon the knoll, standing there for a moment to catch his breath, but quickly running down the other side, as the skeletons got closer to the end of the forest. Without pausing, he entered the other part of forest, still running, as he got closer to the village. When the first few slate roofs appeared, only a few meters away, he looked back. The skeletons, still hoping to capture him, were crashing through the undergrowth on the right side of the path, swords raised, as they ran, barely visible through the thick lines of trees. Two of the village guard were watching the gates, both of them holding a long spears, the ends planted firmly in the mud.

As they saw Tehnerick they raised the gate, but it was quickly shut after him, for the men had seen the skeletons, and closed them, to prevent them from causing any havoc. Then, seeing that their plan was failed, the skeletons left the area, after a few vain attempts to open the gate, but they soon realized that the gate was strong enough to resist the pressure they had exerted on it. When they had left, stomping off, into the undergrowth, Tehnerick leaned against on of the grey walls of the guardhouse, panting slightly, after his flight. One of he guards, a man named Cesraungl, whom Tehnerick knew well, and often spoke with.

‘Well, that was a close ‘un.’ He said brightly, as his spear-bottom clanked onto the cobbled pavement.

‘Yes,’ Tehnerick agreed, straightening up, and pushing himself from the wall.

Cesraungl stepped away from him, heading back to his station. But before he did, he turned back, and said: ‘We’ll meet at the Fier’Dien, tonight, so that you can tell what fully happened then, and what I want to know most, What are skeletons doing on our borders?’

Tehnerick nodded, unable to think of an answer for when the time came. He stood back, as Cesraungl disappeared into the guardhouse, looking down the empty street, before setting off for his own his own house.