Once In a Blue Moon

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Not the best Chapter but meh......


Chapter Eight
He could feel himself being watched but he did not know whom the eyes belonged to. Was it Leith the lean barman? Or one of the many unscrupulous customers sitting around the table getting drunk? He took a long draught of his long curved pipe and blew a large smoke ring from under his black hood. Only his ice, cold, blue eyes were visible. His black hair tied at the back of is head. He found himself growing wary and he sniffed the air. A foreign smell. He came here a lot and he had never smelt this scent. It was unclean and not that of a drunk. He looked around again and saw a hooded man leaned against the fireplace. Rival could not tell if he was staring at him. Underneath his hood was just blackness but he knew who it was. Jarr was one of the Lord’s secret operatives and Rival knew he was being hunted. Even though he did not know the smell he saw the gold ring on the man’s index finger on his left hand. The mark of Jarr. Rival looked away, pretending he had not seen the man. He called the waitress over and ordered another drink. She returned and he placed a three gold coins in her small hands telling her to keep the change, she smiled and thanked him. His eyes met her hazel eyes and he smiled back. He drank from the flagon deeply and sighed as he put it down. He looked back over to the fireplace. Jarr had moved and Rival could not see him anymore.

Jarr looked at the mercenaries in front of him. They were a crooked rugged lot but they were good at what they did. He looked at each one in turn testing their leather armour. Satisfied he addressed all of them. “Right, you know why we are here and what we are hunting. Rival is inside the tavern and he will leave soon. He is dressed in a long black hooded cloak. He is almost six and a half feet tall. Take care of this one, it’s is more dangerous than you know. If he changes either band together or run. Know this he will catch you if you run. I trust you all brought the weapons. Good.” Jarr moved to the alleyway behind the Hunting Horn and waited hand on sword hilt. The four mercenaries faded into the shadows across the streets. He could not see them anymore and this pleased him. For neither would Rival. This was the biggest payday ever. A personal contract for more than six thousand gold from Lord Corl himself. He smiled thinking what he would do with the money and how he would kill the surviving mercenaries so all of it was his.

Rival pulled his cloak tighter around him as the biting cold tore into him as he stepped out of the warmth of the tavern. He paused at the bottom of the stone steps and his nostrils flared. Four men lay in ambush in front of him but he could not sense Jarr with them. The wind was hitting him from his left so Jarr had to be somewhere to his right, downwind. He looked to his right, the alley. He smiled and turned his back on the mercenaries. His blue eyes surveyed the horn above the door. It could hold his weight. With uncanny movements he leapt and hoisted himself on top of the horn. Leaping again he grasped a windowsill before vaulting himself up with his large hands onto the slanted roof of the inn. He stood up and glanced back down a full three stories. He smiled as the four mercenaries and Jarr stepped into view. Jarr had a look of anger on his long face and the four mercenaries stood dumbstruck. Rival’s cloak caught in the wind, seeming to flow behind him. He mockingly gestured for them to follow before turning from view. Jarr cursed and ran through the series of alleyways, the mercenaries behind him. He could see Rival close by, leaping between impossible gaps from roof to roof. He paused and looked back down smiled before sprinting off again.

“Keep going his way, I’ll try cutting him off.” He ordered the mercenaries.

Rival ran and made his way towards the stone buildings near the centre of town. He could not smell Jarr nearby but the four men were still in tail. He leapt over a chimney before propelling himself over a ten foot gap, landing into a roll and continuing his run on a tiled roof. His blue eyes glanced across the rooftops, the silver moonlight glancing of the tiles. He saw it too late as the smell came into his nostrils again. The flat of a blade luckily collided with his chest and he was catapulted to the ground as the air rushed from his lungs. He stood up and looked into the eyes of Jarr. Over the roof edge to his left the four mercenaries clambered up and faced him, swords in hand. Rival took a step back and drew a long, curved scimitar from a leather sheath hanging from his right hip. He held it by the side as the wind made his cloak billow behind him exposing the mailshirt underneath. No one spoke but all of the men could feel the rising tension. The first mercenary attacked.

Rival’s gauntlet collided with the man’s wrist to stop the attack and he sent him spinning from his feet with the scimitar’s hilt striking the man’s left temple. The second mercenary attacked as the first leapt to his feet. Rival blocked the attack expertly and dodged a further attack from the first man joined the fight again. All four mercenaries then joined in a fury attack on Rival. His scimitar spinning and weaving in front of him creating an insurmountable blocking and parrying all attacks his way. He leaned to his left then to his right as blades hissed by his ears. The scimitar smashed two swords aside and he reversed the motion ripping a man’s throat open. The mercenary’s sword clattered to the floor as he fell to his knees, blood spurting from the terrible wound. He pitched forward gurgling blood in his mouth. Jarr watched as Rival opened a second man’s jugular. The man’s speed was almost impossible and Jarr knew this would be hard. Rival was not the first of his kind to be brought down by the legendary Jarr. A third man fell with his head almost decapitated, it was hanging by arteries in the neck. The fourth took a step back and the warriors began circling. Rival risked a glance at Jarr but he made no movement. The mercenary leapt and Rival parried the attack, the steel on silver echoing through the night. The mercenary fell to the ground with blood pouring from a deep wound across his chest. He had not seen the move, Jarr had. Rival’s blade had cut open the mercenary’s chest but the continuation of the movement had blocked the mercenary's and he was wounded before the parry, a dangerous move to attempt. Jarr smiled as Rival spun his sword in his hand resting it by his side as he faced him. Their eyes met once more and they locked. For a long time the stared at each other each waiting for his enemy to make the first movement. Rival returned the smile and his cold eyes fixed in a fierce battle with the grey eyes of Jarr. Jarr’s short blonde hair rustled slightly in the wind as he tightened the grip on his swords once more. The rain began to hammer down on the roof but they did not moved. Thunder could be heard in the distance. The god’s were at war once again. A bolt of lighting forked across the sky and Jarr attacked. Rival blocked the cut and ducked the follow up with the second sword. His scimitar moved with effortless ease slicing through the raindrops and colliding with Jarr’s short swords every time. They furiously attacked each other and sparks of silver on steel flashed between them. Jarr leapt back as Rival aimed a fatal cut across his chest. They paused once again and Jarr shifted his weight slightly, dipping his shoulder, he lunged. Rival had read the attack and he parried both swords with ease. He sent a riposte, which Jarr tried to dodge, but the steel opened up his shoulder blood sprayed behind him and Jarr seemed unnerved by it. In fact he smiled. Rival smiled and bowed his head slightly. Jarr attacked more warily but with none the less power and speed. His left blade thrust for Rival’s midsection but it was easily blocked as the follow up slash aimed for his neck. Rival opened another cut along Jarr’s left leg. Jarr groaned but kept his balance and sent a reply by opening a small cut across Rival’s face. Jarr smiled and Rival wiped the blood with his sword-free hand. He looked at red on his hand and smiled. “It’s been a while since that happened, you will die with my respect.”

Rival smiled but Jarr lunged in anger as a further flash of lighting erupted from the sky. He stared in front of him. Nothing. Just the bleakness of the dark, rainy night and the coldness of the stone rooftops in the distance. He smiled knowingly, tears begging to be released from his eyes as he thought of his daughter. “So this is how it ends,” realising he did not want the impending death to come his way. “I should have chosen a profession with less danger. A poet perhaps.” Rival brought the scimitar down and ripped open Jarr’s back from his head down to his backside, severing the spinal cord with the scimitar. Jarr fell forward and did not move as blood leapt from his back. Rival looked around at the blood being washed away by the rain. He did not smile. He leapt from the roof landing on the ground on his feet, his sword sheated, and sprinted effortlessly back to his house. He opened the door and his wife stood there.

“Evening, my love,” she kissed him fiercely. “We have much to talk about.” Rival allowed himself to be led by his young wife into the living room.

“What is it, Sorna?”

**********

As they rode back to Dale, Llorhan found himself happy. He was glad to be out of the strange Sorna’s house. He was glad to be out of the hellhole of Sequel. It had disturbed him seeing all the poverty and the sight of the scrawniness of the beggars had made him realise how lucky he was where he lived. They had spent a week there and he could not wait to see his house again and the rest of Dale. In all the happiness of his mother getting well again and the struggle with the nightmares, he had completely forgotten to talk to his father about the beast. He sat in the saddle gently swaying as Spring cantered forward. His hands clasped on the reigns. There was little wind today and no snow had fallen. They had chosen to ride on a good day. Llorhan looked into the trees and could see a strange figure. It was not the beast but a man. He was very tall and quite thin. Llorhan was suddenly frightened. The man’s long black cloak billowed in the gentle wind. He had black hair, which was either short or tied at the back. As he passed a tree, which blocked his view, the man appeared to disappear. He looked all around him but nothing. Had he imagined it? He looked round again, nothing. Yes, he must have, but he could not stop the voice in his head telling him it was real. Was he following them? He pushed Spring a bit faster and rode alongside his parents. Naimes was asleep in her saddle and Lorten was in close to her supporting her body. Lorten looked at his son and Llorhan could see the tears in his eyes. The rode for the rest of the day and reached the other end of Tel by the morning.

Dale was covered in white. The rooftops of the spread out houses seemed to glisten in the cold sunlight. The fields were like a white sea. The river was not frozen over like it should have been. It never was. Llorhan smiled at the beauty and was relieved to be back where he belonged. They approached the house to find the front door locked and no sign of Teru. Lorten placed his hand on top of the doorframe and retrieved the key. He unlocked the door before doing straight to his bed. Naimes followed him. Llorhan did not go to bed. Instead he had something to eat before wandering around Dale. Everyone asked how his mother was and he said she was fine but was resting. Everyone was happy. He bathed in the river and found it strangely warm compared to the frozen ground of the banks. He lay there for around four hours before setting of back home. As he made his way through the fields, wading in the foot deep snow he found himself looking at the beast again in the form of Llorhan. This was not a dream.

“You can’t ignore. I’ll be here soon.” It threatened. Choosing to ignore it even though he was slightly frightened. It appeared in front of him every so often and began throwing remarks and insulting him. “I could come tonight and kill your family. Or maybe tomorrow and kill just your brother or Nea.” Llorhan stopped in his tracks. He spun round and aimed a punch at the beast’s nose. He hit nothing but air as his hand passed straight through it’s face. It coldly laughed and disappeared. Llorhan looked around and saw no footprints, save for his own. He ran as fast as he could home.

Lorten turned in his seat in front of the fire and smiled as his son came in. Llorhan looked white. “You like you have seen a ghost,” he laughed. Llorhan looked around. “Teru is away at Buir’s helping him and your mother is taking a well-earned rest.”

Llorhan sat down in the vacant seat beside his father and stared straight into the loving eyes. “We need to talk, dad.” The smile vanished from Lorten’s face as Llorhan proceeded to tell him about the nightmares and the visions of the beast he had seen during the day. Lorten’s once cheery face, suddenly turned grave and he seemed to grow older.

“There is something I have to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago. Something I feared would happen to you or Teru. It has happened to you,” said Lorten. He sighed and looked at the fire for a few moments before returning his eyes to the odd-coloured ones of his son. “I am a werewolf. It would appear you take after me more than I would like. It would seem you are becoming one as well. It happened to me after…” Lorten lapsed into silence.

“After what, dad?” asked Llorhan noting the change in his father but choosing to ignore it.

“When I was eighteen I was attacked by a werewolf it bit me right here.” He lifted up his shirt to reveal a horrible jaw mark on his side as. “You’re grandfather, my father, killed it. He took me home and I became ill and had nightmares not dissimilar to yours. The beast as you call it plagued me until one night. On the night of a full moon, I was healed, my grandfather was astounded by it. I went to the tree in the forest overlooking the Dale and something happened. As the moon reached it's peak, I turned into it. The beast, which had plagued me. Now, I am the beast, I just control it to a piont that it no longer has any say in what I do. Well most of the time. You will have to learn to ignore as best as possible.”

“Why haven’t I changed yet?” asked Llorhan.

“It has been with you since your birth. For that reason,I think, you have taken longer. It has not chosen to reveal itself but has been threatening you recently. I want you to do something next week, when it is a full moon. I want you to meet me at the waterfall at Tel and thereafter every full moon from then on. I will help you. And stop you from doing anything you may regret.”

“Does mother know?” Lorten nodded slowly with a sigh. “What about Teru?”

“No, he doesn’t. I don’t believe that he will become a werewolf like you. Don’t say anything to him or your mother. The last thing you want his her worrying about you. Good night, son. I am sorry about this.”

Llorhan looked at his father but asked nothing more as Lorten returned his gaze to the fire. He was a werewolf and so was his father. It would come out, but he would fight it all the way and he would control it.

 

No Im sorry, you cant stop there... theres too much suspense!

MORE!!!

 

Heres a nice long chapter....

Chapter Nine

For the next eleven months Llorhan had not changed much and life in Dale and cheerfully continued on as it had done since “The War.” Llorhan still had nightmares but they were not disturbing him as much anymore. Every time he had seen the beast it had shaken him slightly but he walked off the effects. It was coming up to the Dale competitions and as a precaution Lorten had not let Llorhan enter. Much to the disappointment of Teru.

“I would’ve enjoyed whooping my little brother,” he had joked. Calis sneered at every opportunity he could get. He was in the tournament and enjoyed every snigger at Llorhan for not being in it. Llorhan and Nea’s relationship had blossomed and they spent almost al their time together. Both now fourteen. Llorhan had enjoyed his birthday. Buir had made him a ring with the words “As the Raven Flies” along it. It was the title of Buir’s favourite poem and he called Llorhan, Raven.

I see him swoop, circle and swirl,
He glides along the edges of the world,
From the tallest mountains to the smallest tree,
His infinite majesty can’t you see?
He has soared over the manmade fields of destruction,
Seen all the large manmade constructions,
But I cant help but marvel at,
The grace of his black-feathered cap,
Are we all so blinded by our greed?,
Maybe we should stop and see,
The way of his majesty,
Some days you take it all for granted,
You’ve destroyed all that nature planted,
Why do you do it?
You do not flit,
Maybe you should stop and look up to the sky,
And watch as he flies and flies.

Llorhan liked the poem too, and Buir had said it reminded him that regardless of the beauty of manmade constructions, there is no greater creator than the gods who made all of the living things in this world. Buir had told this poem to Llorhan many times and he had always like hearing it. His family had given him a new saddle for spring, some gold and his father gave him a sword of steel. It was almost four foot long and was positioned in a beautiful, but old leather sheath. The sword was sharp but Llorhan could see no sign of rust despite its age. It was slightly curved towards the top and the hilt was of silver and it was slightly worn with age. A blue, round jewel was in the hilt.

“It belonged to my grandfather and he gave it to me. Now I give it to you. Look after it well. The hilt may look old but it could slice right through you, right now.” The sword lay beside his bed all the time and he carried as often as he could. Most of the townspeople had given him various odds and ends and he had thanked countless people.

He lent over and grasped the sword hilt with his right hand. It felt cold in his grip and he released it. It was the day before the running competition; his brother was not in it. Teru had been entered into Archery and Swordplay. He was lying in his bed and he could feel the sleep beginning to take a hold of him. He allowed himself to be carried off into the dreamland.

Llorhan stood in a strange place and he had no idea where. A young woman walked from the invisible shadows and Llorhan recognised her instantly. It was the witch, Sorna. “What do you want?” asked Llorhan defiantly.

Her mystical voice echoed throughout the darkness. “I know what you are, the question is do you know what you are?”

“I am werewolf but I have not changed yet. You haven’t answered my question.”

“I bring a warning to you. Do not keep promises to her. You may not want to hear this, but something terrible will happen.” Llorhan did not understand and he knew he did not have to say anything. “You will make a choice. Do not do what you want to do.”

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“You will know what I mean.” She disappeared and Llorhan found himself in Sequel, standing outside the hunting horn. A man was facing off another man on a rooftop. Both were tall, one had short hair the other had hair tied back. The man he had seen in the forest? The man from the forest wielded a scimitar while the other had two short swords. The fought furiously but Llorhan thought he had missed the dodge. With unbelievable speed he moved behind the man with the two short swords and his scimitar ripped open the man’s back. Blood poured but washed away as soon as it hit the ground. Llorhan was hurtled to Tel and looking at himself riding with his parents. Then he was looking at himself sleeping in his bed. In his house. Through someone else’s eyes. Llorhan sprung out of bed. Without thinking he had drawn his sword and charged at the window. He could not stop his hand shaking as it grasped the sword. He peered slowly out of the window into the darkness outside. Nothing. Had it been real? Maybe, he was seeing the world through the man from the forest’s eyes. He was shaking and he went through to the empty living room. He lay in the chair and dropped off to a dreamless sleep.

The sun was high in the sky as Corlek looked around at his competitors. He had been entered into all the disciplines but he hated running. It was his father’s desperate need to show up Hu that stopped him arguing about it. Lek licked his lips as all eyes watched the Lord Hu for the signal to start. He could feel his hands wet with nervous sweat. Hu raised his hand and the competitors readied themselves. Hu was standing behind a long table Nea on his right Corl on his left. His hand dropped and in that instant, time seem to almost freeze as the competitors began to move. Corlek fired out of the almost stasis like position into a quick jog. He could see other runners pass him with ease but they would soon tire out and slow down. His feet hit the ground hard and already he could feel the coldness in his lungs. His breath turned to steam as it evacuated his body. He began to speed up slightly as the bridge came into view. The first of the runners, the boy from Dale, Calis was in front. Lek watched him as his right food hit the stone bridge. He showed no signs of tiring and this disturbed Lek. If he would not tire, then he would win. Lek’s pace began to quicken and he slowly to pass competitors.

Calis turned his head slightly. He as a clear fifty yards in front of the nearest and he could not see any immediate threats. He would win this and impress Hu and more importantly Nea. He thought of her face as he ran and this seem to renew him with everlasting energy. He was breathing hard as he saw the forest come into view. “Almost half way there,” he said to himself and he began to quicken slightly. He could see the flags where he would turn and run along the edge of the forest before turning and running through the shallowest part of the river back to the start and to the finish. He turned slightly again and could see Corl’s son catching up on him. He cursed and turned at the flag.

Lek was almost on him. He smiled and began panting. His shirt was soaked with sweat and the snow began to kick up around his feet. He liked it in Dale. The river was beautiful as where the people. Very friendly, all of them. He passed houses and they were entering back into the snow-covered fields as Lek came alongside Calis.

“How are you doing?” panted Lek.

“Fine,” answered Calis in an almost similar pant. “You should quit at the river, it’s incredibly refreshing in there. Tastes icy cold, but feels nice and warm when you bathe in it.” Lek smiled. Calis looked behind him once more. No one was near enough behind them. He glanced and the red faced Lek. His breathing was hard and his eyes were screwed up, as if he was in pain. Calis could feel the pain too and he tried not to show it, instead he forced a feeble smile. “I think that we sprint to catch up tired you out.”

“Nonsense,” Lek laughed and to Calis’s disbelief Lek moved ahead of him. Calis cursed again and began to force himself faster than he had run before. Both were at full sprint as the water splashed around their legs as the crossed the river.

Corl stood up as he saw his son cresting the hill first. He could not help but smile. Calis was just behind him and he could see Lek slowing down slightly. He shouted to him and the crowds began to cheer encouragement for both runners. The tape was raised by Buir and Lorten as the runners came. They were neck and neck. Twenty yards, ten yards, fie yards. Lek threw himself forward and felt the tape split across his chest. He collapsed to the ground as Calis crossed the line after him. He was breathing hard and Corl lifted him to his feet.

“I’m proud of you my boy,” he shouted in his ear before enveloping him in a hug. Calis staggered up him and shook Lek’s hand warmly.

“Good race,” said Calis.

“Thank you,” he replied. “You too, I thought you had me had a few points.” Lek smiled as Calis beamed at him. More cheers came from the crowd as the othr competitors crossed the line. Lek allowed himself to be led by his father to the table. He lifted him on to it as all eyes looked upon the winner. Hu smiled at Lek, who merely nodded with a slight smile. He stood up on to the table with a silver trophy in hand.

“Congratulations, Lek of Sequel,” he shook Lek’s hand firmly and presented him with the cup. “You have won the running competition. I also believe you are in all disciplines. You should rest. Tomorrow will be the archery competition. Now we feast.”

The competitor’s, their families and all members of the crowd who turned up to watch ate long into the night. All joking, laughing and celebrating Lek’s when long into the night before going home readying themselves for the archery competition the next day.

Teru could not sleep he paced the living room in bare feet. He was nervous. More nervous than he had ever been. He had been so confident up until practising. He and his father had gone to the woods. Lorten had drawn an outline of a man on a tree with chalk. Teru had failed to hit it once. He had missed with more than a hundred arrows. Before that he had missed with a maximum of six out of a hundred. He wanted to win so badly to beat Calis and Lek. He had heard that Lek had won the running with Calis a close second. Teru removed the chalk from the kitchen after pulling some clothes on. He scooped up his bow in his right hand and opened the door with his left. His quiver was slung over his right shoulder. He walked towards Tel.

It was dark outside and Teru could only make his way to the forest by the lanterns, which marked the start of the path through the forest in the distance. He walked through the eerily silent forest his bow in his left hand. He made his way to the waterfall, the only sound which broke the silence. He placed his bow on the ground and moved to a thick tree. He took the chalk from his jacket pocket and faintly drew the outline of a six-foot, lean man on the trunk. It was crudely drawn but would suffice. He moved back to the bow and picking it up walked to fifty yards away from the drawing. He drew a line on the ground with his shoe and counted the arrows in his quiver. Twenty.

Slowly he notched an arrow into the bow and lifted to aim. He breathed deeply as he pulled back the string to his ear. He focused on he chalk figure and slowly his concentration phased out all distractions. He released the string and watched the arrow fly through the air. It hit the figure in the leg. He sighed, “at least it was a hit.” He drew another arrow from the leather quiver. He fired arrow after arrow until he was down to his last one. He had hit all four limbs twice, the body twice and had failed to hit the head. Last arrow. He notched the arrow in the bow and did not draw it back. Instead, he closed his eyes emptying all thoughts from his mind. He concentrated only on the arrow and the head of the outline. Breathing deeply and with his eyes still closed he drew the bowstring alongside his ear. He stood motionless for a while, concentrating. He did not even notice the rabbit, which dared to intrude on his practice. His eyes flashed opened and he released the string and the arrow flew through the air. It thudded home and Teru smiled. Right between the eyes. He retrieved the arrows, which had not broken and rubbed the chalk away from the bark. He turned and looked at the rabbit. “I am ready.”

The crowds assembled around the ring on the small temporary wooden stands. The stands were assembled in a ‘U’ shape. There was a gap where the arrows would be fired. When the seats where full, Lord Hu stood up to address the crowd. “Ladies, Gentleman, Children and whatever else may lurk here.” The crowd laughed but Llorhan did not. “Some of you may no the rules but I will go over them anyway. The archers fire from this end and their targets will be placed fifty yards away. The targets are chalk outlines on old wooden doors. For every limb a competitor hits he will score one point. For each time the body is hit the archer will receive two points. Three points will be awarded for every headshot. In the first round all thirty-four archers will have ten arrows each. To avoid distraction they will fire one after the other only on the order of Buir here. After the fist round the two archers who have the most number of points will have three arrows each in the final. Same points will be awarded and then a winner will be decided. The audience are reminded to be quiet when the archers are preparing to fire. Lord Corl and I give a big good luck to all entrants. May the tournament begin.” Cheers erupted from the crowd and Llorhan found it hard to hear anything else. He could see Buir holding his hand up for silence. “Ker, will go first.” Ker approached the firing line and fired is arrows. He accumulated thirteen points. “Gusle next.” One after one the archers were called out each firing their arrows and receiving their points total. Much to Llorhan’s disappointment Calis scored nineteen points by hitting four headshots, three bodies and one limb shot. Llorhan watched in awe as Corlek was second last. He was a great archer, six headshots, three body shots and a limb. He did not even miss. An outstanding twenty-five points. Llorhan could see the satisfaction on Lord Corl’s face. Teru’s name was called out and he approached the line. Llorhan cheered hard and Teru looked up to him and smiled.

Teru’s hands were sweaty he had watched the other’s fire. Corlek’s score was impressive and he would need to beat Calis’s score of nineteen to get into the final. Teru licked his dry lips as silence fell around the stands. He was even more nervous than the night before. He notched his first arrow into the bow and lifted it. Pulling the bowstring to his ear with his right hand he shut his left eye. Breathing deeply trying to concentrate he fired. It hammered home into the chalk outlines chest. Buir moved over and removed the arrow to give a clean shot. After moving to a safe distance he nodded to Teru. He prepared to fire again and he hit the head. A great start. His next seven arrows managed to accumulate a total of seventeen points. He cursed. He needed a head shot to get into the final. He could hear whistles of encouragement from the crowd as he notched the last arrow into place. Buir held his hand up to the crowd and silence fell once more around the stands. Calis and Lek looked on. Lek smiled knowing he was in the final but he was eager to see whom he would face. Teru lifted the bow and concentrated hard. Drawing back the string he focused on the head of the outline. Emptying all thoughts from his mind. He fired and the arrow a sung through. It hit the board with a tremendous thud and the crowd gasps. Whispers echoed around the stands as all eye fixed on the arrow. It had hit the chalk figure’s chest. His final score was nineteen, he was drawing with Calis. What did this mean? Had Corlek won? The crowd began to start up but Hu rose from his seat and his booming voice echoed around the stands.

“This hasn’t happen for at least ten years.” He looked around the crowd and his eyes fixed on Teru who still stood on the firing line not knowing what to do. “In the event of a tie for second place in round one. Both competitors who are tying will compete in the final. Three-way archery final. A short break is in order.” The three competitors left went round the back of the stands and drank deeply from cups of water from the Dale River. It refreshed them greatly. Teru looked at the other two finalists. Not a word was spoken between them just mere glances.

They were called out to the firing area again. Buir handed them three arrows each and wished them all good luck. Corlek went first. Cheers erupted from the crowd as he approached the line. Slowly he prepared to fire. Three points. His next arrow. Two Points. His last arrow. Three points. He smiled. “Not bad,” he thought. Calis next. He shot for six points. Two head shots and a miss. Calis cursed. He had lost the only two events he was in. Teru approached the line. He was so nervous, three arrows only. He needed three headshots. He breathed deeply as he pulled the bowstring back to his ear. Three points. His second arrow managed a three-pointer headshot as well. He sighed and looked down at the arrow in his hand.

“One more to go. Come on Teru, you can do it.” He said to himself softly. “How many head shots have you hit before?” He smiled before notching the final arrow into place. He breathed deeply again. He closed his eyes and began to control his mind and to disregard all thoughts in his mind. He opened his eyes slowly as he pulled the bowstring back for the final time. “Come on, arrow. Fly straight and accurate. Come on.” He breathed deeply and he could feel the eyes on him. He pushed them to the back of his mind and fired. Teru kept in the same stance, as the arrow seemed to take an age to reach the target. The crowd erupted and Teru stared in disbelief. Right between the eyes.

He turned and lifted his bow to the crowd. The people from Dale erupted into fanatical cheering and Llorhan was among the hardest cheerers. He and his family made his way down to the firing zone. Lorten and Naimes embraced their son. “I’m proud of you son,” they both said. Llorhan could not help but feel a little bit resented but he shook his head and hugged his brother, congratulating him. Teru shouted his joy once more before shaking hands with Lek and Calis firmly.

“Well shot, Teru. You will not be so lucky in the swordplay tomorrow.” Lek had said with a trace of humour. Calis had said nothing merely nodding. Teru approached the table where Hu, Corl and Nea sat. He grasped Hu’s and Corl’s hands warmly before hugging Nea.

“Congratulations are in order,” Hu beamed at Teru. “Well done, Teru. You are the archery champion. Tomorrow I hope to see you all for the swordplay competitions. The final day.” He bowed to Teru as he handed over the trophy. Teru could not hide his joy.

Corlek stood in the courtyard of his uncle Hu’s house near the fountain a wooden sword in hand. He stared at the water falling, trickling into the pool at the bottom, readying to be sucked back up. He did not understand fully how it worked but he had understood the look his father gave him after Teru hit three headshots in a row. A blind man could have read the disappointment in Corl’s eyes and he did not even tried to hide it. He did not have to say anything just the look in his eyes. Lek sighed. He would do his best tomorrow to win the swordplay to restore the pride in him that his father had. He spun the wooden sword in his hand and turned to face his invisible opponent. The raged in a battle for a great while but Lek ended it with the killing blow when he saw the sun rising. Dawn he had to get some sleep.

Teru looked at his first opponent. His name was Reck, Teru had never met him before, and he came from sequel. He looked around the four stands they seemed to close in on the circle arena, which surrounded the two opponents. Reck held his sword loosely extended in front of him. He slightly shorter than Teru and he could see the blue eyes trying to figure him out. His straw coloured hair was in dreadlocks, which adorned his head. Teru tightened his grip on the wooden sword by his side. Both waited for Buir to give the signal.

“I will go over the rules once more before the fight starts. Each fighter has to make the sword contact his opponent’s chest to score a point. You need three points to win. After three different rounds, the final will be fought out. Good luck.” He nodded to Buir who gave the signal to start.

Teru moved forward slightly and Reck approached him. Reck lunged but Teru parried and sent a riposte across Reck’s chest. The first point. Cheers went up from the crowds as the fighters took their position up again. Teru won the second point and this time Reck moved more cautiously. Buir looked on at the fight. Teru had the almost liquid like movements of his father. He smiled as Teru, without warning battered, Reck’s sword aside and tapped his chest. “Three points to zero. Teru wins,” shouted Buir. Teru hugged Reck with one arm and moved to the resting area. Teru had won his next round with ease and was fighting a foreigner, two years older than him next. He was pleased to learn Lek had reached the other semi-final, and he wanted to face him. Teru went to the stands to watch Lek’s fight against a seventeen-year-old from Dale called Jaared. Teru had seen Jaared fight. He was good but he had not seen Lek fight so was unsure who would win.

Buir gave the signal once more and Lek began to circle Jaared. Jaared lunged but Lek dodged and, rather surprisingly did not follow up with an easy reply. Lek continued circling his opponent blocking all attacks against him. Teru was in trouble, Lek was good. Jaared tried a reverse cut but Lek ducked and hit him in the chest. One point to Lek. They returned to the starting point and Buir again started the fight off. Another point to Lek, this time it was quicker. The third and final point went, again to Lek. Jaared had tried to fake lunge and bring his sword around Lek’s defence. A clever move, which would have worked, had Lek not taken a step back and lunged before Jaared could bring his sword around. Lek licked his lips and shook hands with Jaared. One more to go and the trophy was his.

The foreigner lunged once more and this time Teru failed to dodge the attack. He was losing two pints to zero. He cursed as he made his way back to the starting line. The foreigner threw a mocking smile at his opponent. He could almost taste the victory in his mouth. Teru shut his eyes and concentrated hard. Buir gave the signal and the foreigner rushed in almost smelling victory. Teru’s sword clashed with the wood of the foreigner’s who cursed. He leapt back but lunged as soon as his feet hit the ground. Teru dodged and brought the wood against his opponent’s chest. Two points
to one, Teru smiled, he was still in it. Teru rushed at his opponent moving from side to side as he did so, switching the wooden sword between his hands. He leapt and drove his sword around the back of the foreigner’s attempted block and made contact. Two points each. They returned to their starting points again as the crowds erupted once more. Buir silenced them before giving the signal for what would be one of the fighter’s last round. Lek watched from the stands. Both of them were good and he would find either difficult to beat. The foreigner thrust his sword at Teru’s chest but it was easily parried as was the riposte. Teru kept his feet moving, taunting his opponent with his movements. The foreigner lunged but Teru sidestepped and tripped him up. He moved in for the final blow but his opponent leapt to his feet and Teru’s sword was smashed from his hand, landing on the other side of the ring. Teru cursed and began dodging the blows inching towards where his sword lay. The foreigner could taste victory again and began wildly hacking and thrusting. Teru dodged all attacks waiting for a window. There it was. He brought his hand up and grasped his opponent’s wrist. He wrenched the sword clear and caught it in mid-air. He spun round and pressed it against his opponent’s chest. He smiled. The foreigner was still shocked as Teru shook his hand. The crowd jeered as Teru moved to the resting area preparing for the final against Corlek. He drank from one of the many cups on the table, refreshing his muscles, Corlek joined him.

“Well down to us again, eh.” He said. Teru smiled.

“Good luck to you Corlek. You’ll need it,” he added with a smile. Corlek returned it.

“Please call me Lek, my friend” he said. “And by the looks of it you’ll be the one needing the luck.” He slapped Teru on the back and went out into the arena again. Teru drained two more cups and relieved himself in the toilet. He looked at himself in the reflection of water in another cup and sighed. He went out to the arena.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as Teru walked to the starting line. He could see Lek already there and Buir standing between them. He quickly recited the rules once more and shook both competitors’ hands warmly. Wishing them good luck he turned and stood at the edge of the ring, silencing the crowd. Not one person moved as Buir gave the order to fight. Lek moved slowly forward and Teru moved out to meet him. Lek’s sword snaked out and Teru blocked, sending a riposte at his opponent’s chest, which Lek dodged. Attack after attack was parried by each fighter and the duel was getting tense. Teru ducked another attack and blocked a second attack. Teru could sense the speed of Lek getting quicker and he would have to tighten his defences. Lek’s wooden sword hissed through and Teru was too slow. One point to Lek. Teru licked his dry lips and rubbed his sweaty palms on his top. Scooping up his sword he moved out again. He read Lek’s lunge and he easily parried it. He sent a cut across Lek’s chest but had to dodge after his attack was being blocked and Lek thrust his sword at Teru’s midsection. Teru blocked a slash and rolled forward dodging a second attack. His sword collided with Lek’s back. One point a piece, Teru smiled at least Lek was beatable.

Lek looked at his opponent. This was definitely going to be difficult. Teru had blocked most of his attacks and Lek had to fight hard through his defences. Lek brushed the sweat of his brow and tightened the grip on his sword. Teru moved towards him Lek moved to circle him. Teru lunged and Lek blocked it and replied with a stab at his chest, Teru dodged it. He spun to avoid Teru’s thrust but Teru ducked his spinning attack. Lek rolled forward out of danger and spun to meet Teru. His opponent lunged and Lek dodged but he was too late to see the feint. Teru brought his sword to rest on Lek’s chest, he cursed. Teru smiled at him when the returned to their starting points. Teru rushed at Lek who sidestepped out of the way and Teru dodged the riposte across his back. Lek faced his opponent and lunged. Teru dodged and blocked the follow up attack. Teru spun to face his opponent and blocked the thrust his follow up was too slow and Lek stabbed Teru’s chest.

“Two points for each competitor, so it comes down this. One point left but who will claim it and the trophy. Both competitors have won another discipline so we will have a double champion regardless of the outcome. Who will it be? Corlek from Sequel, or Teru from Dale. Prepare yourself.” He gave the signal and Teru stepped out for the last time to face his rival. His lips were dry and his palms were sweaty, but he would beat Lek. The double champion would be from Dale.

Lek jumped and lunged at Teru but he sidestepped and swiped at his feet. Lek hit the ground but rolled from danger and he leapt to his feet. Lek lunged again but it was easily blocked as was Teru’s riposte. Teru blocked the follow up from Lek and shoulder barged his opponent. Lek was thrown back and landed hard on the ground he leapt to his feet and ducked a vicious attack. Teru managed to dodge the retort as the sword grazed his arm. Only body hits count. Lek attacked again and again not giving any time for Teru to reply. Teru was tiring and breathing hard. Lek smiled. “See you’re tiring you will lose.” Teru smiled back and kicked at Lek. Lek jumped backwards laughing.

Teru began to empty his mind. It was down to him and Lek nothing else mattered. He had to win, this was real. Forget the points just take him down beat him anyway you can. Lek lunged and Teru dropped to his knees. He winced as the sword lanced his chest. Lek stood still and Teru looked up at him, smiling.

“Well done, Teru,” said Lek. “Very well done.” Teru removed his sword from Lek’s groin.

Hu rose from his seat. “The winner and double champion is, from the Dale, the son of Lorten, Teru.” Cheers erupted throughout the crowds and Lek embraced Teru in an hug. Corl could not help but smile at his son’s sportsmanship. It was a great fight and Teru had won a well-deserved victory. The last fight to last that long was the combat between Hu and Corl which Corl won. The entire audience moved to the fields to the feasting area. The giant feast to mark the end of the Dale competitions.

Teru ran over to Keare and kissed her fiercely. She was shocked when he proceeded to one knee and proposed. “Keare. I love you more than any woman I have ever loved, will you marry me?” Buir appeared out of the circle of the people surrounding the proposal. “If that’s ok with your father here.” He assured Buir. Buir smiled and nodded. Keare smiled and looked deeply into Teru’s eyes.

“Yes.”

 

Awww... a marriage

Good chapter, Lawless.

 

A rather short chapter...


Chapter Ten
Teru and Keare wed two months later and within six months were expecting their first child. Subsequently Teru built a house across the river with his father and brother. It was made of wood and would be able to house Teru, Keare and their child comfortably. Llorhan, Teru and their father looked at their work it had taken all of the eight months since they got engaged to complete but they stood back and believed it to be worth it.

“There she is,” marvelled Lorten. “A fine house. Should see you well enough through many winters.” Teru held Keare in one arm and placed his free hand upon her stomach. They looked deeply into each other’s eyes and smiled. Llorhan smiled to it pleased him to see his brother so happy.

“Well Te. I think you married a fine lass.” Said Llorhan. Teru smiled and hugged Llorhan and Keare kissed his brow. They both beamed at him.

“Well we better be off and see your mother. You two have fun now,” Lorten winked and led Llorhan back home.

Naimes stood in the kitchen not moving she stared at the dishes in the wooden sink. They were still dirty from the night before but she could not move. Her green tunic was wet from washing up but she could not continue. Her left hand was upon her breast and her right hand stopped her from falling over by leaning on the sink. Tears ran down her face and her gaze moved slowly to out the window. It was sunny outside, the fields were glowing green and everyone was outside playing or enjoying the warmth after the extraordinarily cold winter. She heard the door open in a somewhat distant place and Lorten and Llorhan’s laughter echoed throughout the house and the emptiness of her mind.

Lorten looked over to his wife and immediately could tell something was wrong. He rushed over to her and embraced her in a hug. “What’s the matter, darling,” he looked down and saw her hand covering her breast. His eyes widened and he prayed. Llorhan stood in the living room and did not disturb his mother and father. Lorten stared out the window as tears fell down his face. Cancer.

Over the next few weeks Naimes became very ill and could barely move out of bed. Ile had tried in vain to keep her well but had sent word to Sorna. Naimes would be unable to make the trip and Sorna would be needed here. It was five weeks after Naimes had discovered the lump had reappeared when Sorna arrived in Dale. The wind and rain lashed down on her and her horse as she rode towards the house of Lorten. She did not need directions she already knew where it was. After she knocked on the door, a young man and his wife answered. “Show me to your mother, Teru,” was all that she said. Teru and Keare led her to the bedroom where Lorten knelt by his wife’s bedside weeping and praying. His head turned and he smiled when he spotted Sorna.

“Thank god you’ve co…” she held up a hand and told him to leave the room. He kissed his wife and left her alone with Sorna.

Sorna moved over to Naimes and held her hand above her. Concentrating hard she moved within her body. She found the cancer again this time and removed quicker but something was different. There was something else in her body; the cancer was not killing her. Something else was. She moved throughout the body, checking everywhere it could be. This could take a few days.

It had been almost thirteen hours since Sorna had arrived and she had gone straight into the room and not come out. More than once Llorhan had wanted to go in and see what was happening but Lorten had stopped him. “The last thing your mother needs is someone disturbing the person trying to heal her,” but even Lorten began to feel the urge to go in. He looked over at Teru, Keare sitting on his lap, through the tears, which soaked his eyes and face. She was beautiful and the daughter of Buir, Lorten’s greatest friend. Teru had chosen her wisely, she was a fine girl. He looked over to his youngest son, the werewolf. Lorten had been devastated when Llorhan had told him about the beast. Lorten had hoped and thought that the werewolf would end with him but now Llorhan would suffer as he had suffered. His eyes moved back to his bedroom door and he could see a faint glowing underneath the door. He smiled. Sorna would find a way to heal Naimes, she had to. Lorten loved Naimes more than anything or anyone he had ever loved.

The handle on the door turned slowly and Sorna appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were sunken, her hair all grey and she seemed frailer than usual. Her eyes were glistening with tears and there was no any trace of a smile or any happiness on her pale face. Lorten’s heart dropped and he rose from his seat. Without a word he moved past Sorna and knelt by his wife’s bed again and wept. Sorna placed a hand on his shoulder. “I have cured the cancer but there is something else.” Lorten turned to her and his wet eyes looked at hers. “Have you ever heard of Affliction? A rare disease, which affects the heart and therefore the entire body.” Lorten nodded.

“Her mother and father both did of it. They went quick though.” He tried to smile. “She’ll pull through. She’s a fighter. Gods, she always beat me in arguments.” His smile soon returned to weeping again. Sorna hugged him softly and kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry there is nothing I nor anyone can do,” with that she disappeared from the house and did not come back. Teru, Keare and Llorhan had been standing at the door. Llorhan, who had fought back the tears for the most part, collapsed to his knees and wailed. Teru placed a hand on his shoulder, the other around Keare and tears flushed from his eyes. No one said anything, the crying was enough.

Naimes had been a fighter. She had fought for eleven months, until her muscles swelled and her breathing became rasping. Lorten had barely moved from her side. Llorhan tried to pretend nothing was happening but he could barely conceal his grief. Teru had moved to his childhood home with Keare, to support Lorten but he was inconsolable. Then without warning the swelling went down, her breathing returned to normal and she was sitting up and talking to her husband. She was talking about organising a party to celebrate the birth of Teru’s daughter, Ari. She was a small baby and had her mother’s eyes and her father’s colour of hair.

“…and do you know what I’d like hung around the tree, Lorten,” she continued.

“What darling? Anything you want. I’m glad you’re getting better. Anything you want, absolutely anything. What do you want darling,” but just like that she was gone. The life drained from her fingers and her head fell from against the pillow to rest on her chest. Lorten grasped her hand and let out a terrifying werewolf howl mixed with his human scream. He let ou his agony and wept. He started a song through the tears, “Another candle joins the holder tonight.

I look up to the sky,
I see your light,
It shines bright,
Brighter than the fire of my heart

I see your light,
It hangs like a torch from above,
Shining from the gods,
Your memento of the earth,

Your love is like the everlasting candle,
I love you with all my heart,
Your death is more pain than I dare handle,
I see your light,
It shines bright,
Brighter than the fire of my heart,

Come back to me when you can,
I can’t stand it without you here with me,,
I need you by my side,
Naimes your light shines brightest,
In the fire of my heart.

He wept once more.

 

Was going through the stories and read this at my mates is there anymore coming. I hope so its good.

 

Have you read and David Gemmel?

The only problem I have with reading this is that my name is Dale, so I can't really imagine the village that well.

Apart from that, this is really good, and I can't wait for more

 

Sorry bout that cant be helped. Yes i do read quite a bit of David Gemmel.

Chapter Eleven
Llorhan’s legs hung low over the branch he sat on in his tree. It had been a full year since Naimes had died and Llorhan was devastated when he was told. No more than six months ago he had tried to hang himself at this tree. He had missed her terribly and wanted his life to end. Buir stopped him and now he was thankful for it. Buir had said that it would get better with more time. If anything it got worse. As each day passed he missed her greater than the previous day. Today was no exception. His father was still inconsolable but now instead of the slight nods he had moved to a few grunts and the frequent “yes son.”

Teru had been more articulate and spoke but every so often in conversation his voice would trail away and he would stare off into the distance. Keare had been the only one he would talk to properly. Llorhan could not find comfort in anyone. Nea had been rumoured to be having a thing with Calis but she had assured him that it was not true. He still loved her after all these years and she said she loved him. They had continued to see each other at the waterfall and tomorrow he really wanted to go with her.

The moon rose like a floating silver sickle and Llorhan smiled. It brought with it a cool breeze over his face. It was the first time he had smiled in a while. The breeze blew his long hair out of his face and he once again stared down at Dale. It was eerily beautiful and this sight never failed to bring a smile to Llorhan’s face. He sat for a good while before dropping from the boughs of tree. He landed softly and made his way home. He passed through the glade where he, Teru and their father had practiced fighting. Lorten still helped him train but barely said anything.

They had trained earlier that day and for the first time Llorhan managed to break through his father’s defence and touch Lorten’s body. A “cut” across his left bicep. Llorhan, however, did not put this down to his skill as a swordsman. He knew Lorten was not up to his best. The sentence Lorten used today was “well done but I could have killed you even with my arm scratched.”

He arrived at his house and his father was, for the countless night running, sitting in his armchair in front of the fire. Llorhan did not disturb and went through to lie in his bed. Teru was snoring loudly and Llorhan took an age to get to sleep. “Lousy bastard,” he stifled his laughter with his arm. Soon enough his eyes could no longer fight off the weight of the lids and he succumbed to sleep.

Lorten looked around he had no idea where he was. He was standing in snow and he was high up. The top of a mountain, perhaps. There was no vegetation or life, just the white, crusty layer of snow. Around the mountain was just a white blanket of nothingness. An icy cold wind snapped all around him biting through his thick clothes. His beast stood in front of him and he could feel his fear again. It had been thirty years since he had seen it in his dreams. Why now?

He approached it concealing his fear as best he could. It leapt at him and he rolled to the side but with impossible speed it leapt at him again and pushed him off the mountainside and he fell. He feel for what seemed like an eternity and felt tremendous pain as he hit the ground. Pain. People say you cannot feel pain in dreams but what do they know? He thought He looked around and saw his house, the fire on inside. He walked to the window.

Inside he saw her. Those full lips, the shapely hips, the full breasts. Her long flowing hair, but Naimes took notice of him shouting out to her. She did not move but stayed sitting in the chair at the fire. A eerie blue light was cast over the seen and Lorten saw his best rearing up behind her. He leapt inside and dived at the beast but fell through it and heard horrid laughter. He landed hard on the snow once more and where it was white was now a sea of the red of blood. He looked up and saw the blue moon above him. The laughter started again and he screamed in agony as though the laughter was slicing at his entire body. It turned black.

*********************************

Llorhan lay on the bank with Nea stroking his chest with her finger. The sun was setting in the sky and was casting a red glow over the water. They had been laying there for the most part of the day and Llorhan had enjoyed it for every minute. She looked deep into his eyes and smiled, he returned it.

“I love you,” he said.

“I know,” she replied. She kissed him and removed her clothing. She slipped into the river and he followed. She splashed him and laughed at him. She chased him and she pulled herself out of the water. Again Llorhan followed she ran for a short while her skin shone golden in the receding sunlight. He grabbed her and embraced her. She pulled him closer to him and he could feel the warmth. Arousal swept through him like an unstoppable army. She kissed her and the made love on the grass. It was the most extraordinary feeling. The warmth alone was pleasurable but the sex was incredible. The blue moon rose into the sky and Llorhan felt something. A voice echoed through the growing breeze. A chilling laughter getting louder with ever breath until he realised who it was.

“Here I come.” He removed himself from Nea and pain seared across his forehead. He urged her to run. Nea ran across to her clothes and pulled them on with infinite speed. She turned and faced the naked Llorhan. The moon was blue and she had never seen anything like it. There were no clouds of stars just the blue moon floating, threateningly. Lorhan’s back arched and he pulled himself to his feet. He screamed but something came through it. His body cracked as his structure grew. Grey hair began to tear through his skin and his face began to grow into a muzzle. His teeth and hands grey longer. He howled as the transformation completed. His eyes fixed on Nea who stood absolutely still, stunned with terror. Llorhan reared onto his hind legs and looked at his body, he howled once more. Nea turned and ran, she tripped and crawled on. It was futile, the werewolf stood above her, towering over seven and a half feet tall.

Lorten sprinted on all fours in his human form through the forest; he had seen the full blue moon rise and fear had ran through him. He ran as hard as he could, his body changed to his will. In his wolf form he moved faster leaping up trees and propelling himself from treetop to treetop. His eyes spotted the waterfall and it pushed him onwards. A scream of a young woman and a bone-chilling howl echoed through Tel. Lorten landed in his human form in front of a werewolf with odd-coloured eyes.

The werewolf lunged at him and Lorten turned once more to the beast and, catching his son in mid jump, pinned Llorhan to the floor. Llorhan’s fangs lashed out and grazed Lorten’s face. Lorten stood up in his human form as Llorhan reared above him. “Stop yourself, son. Fight it.” He saw the form recede but Llorhan leapt again and, this time in his human form, Lorten threw him against a tree. The tree buckled under the weight of Llorhan’s werewolf form and fell over. Llorhan turned back into his normal self as blood spurted from his mouth. The moon turned silver again and disappeared. Llorhan stood up and ran over to Nea. Her body was mutilated and snapped in half.

“No, no, what have I done.” Lorten placed is hand on his son’s shoulder.

“There is nothing you could have done. It cannot be changed now forget it.” Llorhan wept and dropped to his knees. After a good half hour he rose and turned to his father. Lorten opened his mouth but stopped. He spun round and faced the trees. He heard running footsteps in the distance. Turning around he said, “Run. Llorhan, don’t come back. Go to Sequel get a boat across the river and forget about this. Find Sorna first. Run.” Llorhan ran but only as far as a large tree, which he climbed and hid in the depths of the branches. Lorten spun round and faced the trees. Not a moment afterwards, a group of men led by Hu appeared from the depths of Tel.

“What’s going on here?” He shouted as he burst from the trees. Hu gasped as he spotted the mutilated body of Nea. “Nea? Nea! My daughter.” He ran over to here and fell to his knees. He turned his face and looked at Lorten. “What manner of beast killed her? Lorten? What killed her?”

Lorten thought of Llorhan, “It was me.” Llorhan gasped and was about to shout out before a large hand grasped his mouth and prevented him. Llorhan did not turn round but looked on in horror at the scene.

“You?” asked Hu in disbelief. Hu had known about Lorten’s condition as a werewolf but did not expect him to be able to do this.

“I couldn’t control it and I was walking through the forest. She was the nearest person” Hu looked at Lorten with horror.

“Wait wasn’t she with your son, Llorhan?” asked Hu through tears. “Where is he? Where is he?”

“Yes he was supposed to be here, but I don’t know where he is.” Replied Lorten. Hu nodded slowly before speaking.

“You know the penalty for murder,” even though his daughter had been murdered he found it surprisingly hard to be angry at the man who had helped him and defended him so many times.

“I do and each man is entitled to his last request,” Hu nodded in agreement. “Don’t tell Teru.” Hu nodded again and carried the body of Nea back to Dale himself. Buir and four guards stood above Lorten as he kneeled ready for immediate execution. Buir did not say anything but he knew. He had read the tracks Lorten did not kill Nea it was Llorhan. The werewolf’s son. Buir stood in front of Lorten readying the order for the execution.

“I’ll make it look like a beast killed you as well,” said Buir before whispering in Lorten’s ear. “I know, don’t worry I won’t say anything. You are a god amongst men, dear Lorten.” He took a step back and nodded to the ma behind Lorten, silver sword in hand. Buir looked away with tear-swollen eyes. He heard the head of Lorten hit the ground followed by the body. He and the guards took care and time to mutilate Lorten’s body in the convincing fashion before carrying it off to Dale. Buir smiled, this should persuede Teru.

Llorhan had watched the whole scene in shock. The hand let go of him and he screamed his agony out. His voice echoed over the forest and birds flew up from their perches. He turned to look at the man behind him. His eyes were of the coldest blue and they frightened Llorhan slightly. His black hair was tied behind his long-faced head. His thick-lipped mouth was an upside down smile. Tears were running down the man from the forest’s cheek. Rival dropped from the boughs of a tree and landed, crouching on the ground. He stood up as son as the coast was clear and turned his head back up to Llorhan. “I will take you to Sequel, come on.” Llorhan did not say anything but he fell out of the trees and landed hard on the ground. Rival looked at him in sorrow and scooped him up in his arms. Rival looked around before turning into his eight and a half foot werewolf form. He held Llorhan in his huge tree trunk like arms before bounding through the forest towards Sequel.

****************************

Buir comforted Teru as he knelt, crying in front of the pyre, which held his father. There was no sign of Llorhan and this distressed Teru even further. Buir looked around, Llorhan would not be back. He will have gone to Sequel to go across the sea. Lorten would have told him to do so. Teru placed the flame on the wood and the fire swept through the wood burning Lorten’s body. Teru shut his eyes as he took a step back from the pyre. All eyes looked at him. He began to sing softly.

A new candle in the sky tonight,
New to the gods today,
My father’s new found flight,
Through the spirit way,

Teru fell to his knees and wept, as did everyone else. Even Hu could not stop himself shedding a tear. Buir looked at the flames and smiled inwardly recalling the events. A great man he protected his son by accepting the execution meant for Llorhan. Buir would never say a word.

 

Nice post, Lawless. Keep them coming.