Three

Chapter 3

 

 Eido walked through the wood; the skies were covered by dense trees. The light shone through the leaves giving the ceiling a bright green colour. Her bare feet crunched the branches below; her white dress blew in the gentle breeze. Her light brown hair fell down her back as she stretched up and picked an apple from the tree in front, her big brown eyes smiled as she took a bite and felt the juice drip down her soft chin. Eido held out the basket she had in her hand and began to fill it with bright green ripe apples.

 She walked back to her father’s cottage; she entered through the door and found her father asleep in his rocking chair with his usual thin cloth blanket lay across his lap. She put the basket of apples of the table and walked over to him. Eido pulled his blanket up a little and kissed him on the forehead. Her father, Tamas, was a strong, resilient man. A carpenter in his prime, his large rough hands lay on the arms of his rocking chair, he inhaled a long deep breath making his moustache twitch. The fire danced behind him making Eido smile.

 “Oh Papa, must have had a long day.” She threw another log on the fire and began to rub the table with a cloth.

 Eido went through her usual routine of cleaning and cooking. She and her father sat down at the table, the sun was setting over the horizon in the window behind them. They sat in silence for a while; the only noise came from Tamas stabbing his potatoes.

 “So Papa, how was work today?”

 Tamas grunted at his daughter before he spoke.

 “Old man F****t wants me to build him a cart for his farm,” he spoke with a gravelled voice, his dark eyes never moved from his plate.

 “Sounds interesting, what’s he offering?”

 “Seven silvers and a brass.”

 “Oh that’s a generous offer.”

 Tamas grunted once more.

 “Have you been training today?” Tamas asked with a full mouth.

 “I have not; I was waiting for your return.”

 “Right, we shall train after dinner.” Eido nodded in agreement to her father.

 

*

 

 Skrat felt a hand grab the scruff of his robes in the darkness; the hand hoisted him out of the sack and tossed him onto the floor. It felt cold beneath his feet as he stood, the room was dark and barely lit. The hooked nose of his capturer was sat upon a malicious face, he twisted a smile.

 “What is it that you will need Skrat for, sir?” Skrat asked in a low voice, his grey sunken eyes looked up to him.

 “I need your mind Skrat. I need you to tell me,” the man’s cold eyes flashed with menace, “where is Valhalla, where are the Gods waiting to be resurrected and given new life?”

 “Valhalla has long been deserted sir, the great hall lies empty and in ruins. The warrior’s souls vanished the day the Gods fell.” The stranger seemed mad, straightened his back and smiled wider.

 “I happen to know how to bring back the souls,” a silence lingered between the two, the man paced back and forth, his large black boots echoed in the small room as Skrat watched him with eager eyes.

 “I must find it, and once there the Gods will rise again and the giants will rage and the world will be flooded in chaos.”

 “Who are you?”

 “Do you not recognise me, Skrat, the paintings and inscriptions describe me as a mad man, a trickster. I am Loki.”

 

*

 

  “Cal?” Kai knocked on the door of his brother’s chambers. Cal opened the door and stood in the frame.

 “Yes brother? How can I help you?” His voice was flat and emotionless; his eyes shone a pale blue. Kai had always admired both their eyes, inherited from their mother. Or so their father has told them, she died when they were young.

 He entered Cal’s chambers and walked around, his walls were dark and cold not like his own.

 “Cal I have a task for you, I would like you to go on a scouting mission for me. I have received word that a small village by the name of Thistle was attacked last night by the Night Fiends. I would like you to go out there with six soldiers and assess the damage; we may have to send labourers to help.” Kai placed a hand on Cal’s shoulder and watched as his younger brother left the room, he worried for him. Am I trying to mature him too fast? What would Father do? He had to remind himself that their father wasn’t there, that he was the man now.

 

*

 

 Robin awoke with a sharp pain in his back; the trough he laid in soaked his clothes. His blade hung at his side. An empty tankard floated past his chest. He rubbed his aching head and attempted to lift himself out of the water. He held a hand up to the sunlight in a futile attempt to block out the rays that burned his eyes. He inhaled long and hard and blew out the breath that was stained by ale. He stumbled down the dirt path and found a black horse trotting past. A young man sat atop, long dark hair with the most striking blue eyes, though they were hidden by his sulky brow. He trotted past followed by six men wearing the royal colours of green and blue; each looked at Robin with disgust who smiled moodily at them.

 He watched as the young man dismounted his horse, he approached a servant girl and asked some questions, and was then led away. Robin followed; he kept a loose grip on the hilt of his sword through a force of habit. He opened the door to the tavern and listened.

 “We’ve been informed of an attack on this village, what can you tell us?” The young man asked.

 “It was the Night Fiends; they came out of the well and attacked us.” The young man nodded.

 “Any casualties?”

 “Yes sir, twenty three deaths and three are barely surviving from their injuries. You can find the doctor over at his surgery across the way.”

 “Ok and how did you stop the attack?”

 “A man came out from the inn and fought against them, he came up with the idea of setting a cart of hay on fire and blocking the well with it. Funny thing is, this morning; I could have sworn I saw him sleeping in the trough outside.” They looked toward the door to find Robin green eyes peering through.

 Robin opened the door and stood in its frame; he walked inside and stopped at the feet of the young man. His robes were sodden and dripping onto the oak floorboards.

 “I am Prince Cal of Raine, second in line for the throne.” Robin bowed low to him. “Are you the man who thwarted the Night Fiend’s attack?”

 “No, I only came to this village this morning and heard of the vampire attack soon after, I am sorry to waste your time young prince.” Prince Cal looked Robin up and down which he didn’t take kindly to.

 “That will be all.” Robin bowed low with disdain and turned to leave. He instantly didn’t like this Prince Cal, so different to his father.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Great use of the myths in the chapter. I like the reference to the old places that are gone. Good conversation in this chapter. I like the new characters.. A excellent chapter.
Coyote

[Octob3r Star]

"hmmm" - next chapter