The Young Shall Inherit: Aerolan Saga: Book 1
Borny'a noticed the movement on the hill beyond the lake early that morning.
Probably just the herd moving down for water.
He watched for a while, then went back to his chores. Later, he stood, stretching his back from bending over his work for so long, and again saw the movement. Much closer now and more rhythmic than he would expect from a herd of wilants.
“Could be a hunting party,” he grunted, left his work laying on the ground and moved to the cabin. He paused by the door but moved quietly inside. He looked out of the window on the lake side and watched, standing back in the shadows.
“Nope, movement is too direct. They're not chasing anything.” He reached for his bow, a sturdy and unusually formed weapon. Borny'a had traveled in his youth; this weapon came from far across the Southern Welnon Sea.
He moved to the side of the man lying on one of his cots; reached down and pressing his hand to man's forehead, checked the warmth.
“Still runnin' a fever. I'll be back shortly,” he mumbled, as though the man could understand.
He positioned the bow on one of its tips, placed his leg over the bow, bent the bow over his knee, stringing it quickly. He reached and clutched several arrows from a back quiver hanging near the door. Walking out of the cabin, he moved to the edge of the forest just above the lake shore, and slid into a position where he could see the approaching group when they cleared the trees. He determined the group had to be human, or, at least, human-like.
He was always aware of his circumstance. He realized he lived in a dangerous zone; there were unusual man-like creatures all about, If he saw one, or many, coming from the direction of Voravia's vast district, he was always caution and watchful.
As the group walked out onto the bank of the lake with the leader cautiously looking about for danger and for anyone coming from the cabin, he recognized them as Voravia's creatures. But strangely they didn't seem to be assuming any warlike stance, but rather only took precautions to avoid being surprised if they were attacked. The front scout, not noticing Borny'a standing nearby, motioned for the others to step forward. They crept around the lake, obviously headed for the cabin.
Two of them were carrying something in a large sling. With the human-like arm sticking out the end, it was obviously a body hung beneath the poles on the two beings' shoulders.
They hesitated a moment; the scout motioned for them to lower the sling. They did so without thought, merely dropping the poles and body. There was a groan from the canvas. Borny'a waited a moment to see what they planned next. The scout motioned and mumbled something to the rest, turned and begin to walk slowly toward the cabin.
Borny'a drew back the arrow he'd retrieved earlier and stepped out of the trees for a clearer path to the intruders. He yelled loudly for them to stop. The scout turned, bringing up his crude weapon as he did and threw it at Borny'a. Borny'a easily dodged the feeble effort and released his arrow; the man dropped where he stood. While the rest ran over to the dead scout, Borny'a reloaded, holding another arrow in his teeth, assuming another would be needed. But another of the band suddenly became the new leader of the motley group; he threw up both hands and the others followed his example. They bunched together, shaking their heads and motioning violently with their hands outstretched, trying, he thought, to discourage any battle. He relaxed his draw and waited a moment.
The new leader pointed to the body they were carrying. “Wes not be fightin'. Wes want trad' with old mens.” He said pointing at Borny'a.
What do they think I have to trade? Or why would I want that body?
“Who is that?” Borny'a asked, nodding at the body laying on the ground.
“Wes not knows. Bigs fight at two valleys away.” answered the spokesman, pointing toward the north area.
That's close to where we found Jond'r. Wonder if there's a connection.
Borny'a only stared at the speaker. He hadn't lowered his bow. The pause lasted longer than Borny'a expected. He was getting tired of being cautious; these men, or whatever they were, didn't seem inclined to attack him.
“What do you want – in trade?” he yelled at the new leader.
“Wes wants – needs – foods?” He gestured toward the others who stood staring at Borny'a, nodding their heads and looking between him and the leader slowly.
The leader waved his arms about while mumbling a few other things Borny'a couldn't understand, though the name Voravia was evident. Then the speaker's hands dropped to his side. He waited and dumbly stared at Borny'a. Borny'a relaxed a bit more, allowing the tension to ease from his arms and shoulders. He let the arrow slide forward but held everything at ready.
“Who is this?”
“Wes not know. Wuz battle with soljers, all die, 'cept him. Man moved when to take stuff.” He pointed toward the sling, another moan eased from the bundle.
Borny'a knew the sound, pain.
“What do you want?” he asked again.
“Foods!” the leader shouted. He looked at Borny'a as though he'd made himself clear earlier.
“Okay, Okay. Name?” Borny'a raised the bow slightly, but not enough to arouse the being.
It took a moment but the other responded, “Is Gratz.” He pointed at his chest, then as before, dropped his hand and stared vacantly at Borny'a.
“Let's look at what I have.” Borny'a nodded then pointed, with the up cleat of his bow, toward the outbuilding where he kept his stores.
It was well hidden, buried in the side of the hill, beneath an overhanging Funelis tree.
“But caution.” Borny'a warned.
Gratz bowed his head in submission. Borny'a walked sideways keeping the group in sight and watched them very closely. He was willing to try this exchange, more out of curiosity then need, but there was no reason to be stupid. The pack followed him. Gratz made a special attempt to avoid the dead scout, grunting and speaking to the body with disgust.
“Whas is yous tinkng, ful?” He flung his arm about, pointedly toward the body, as he passed, irritated.
Borny'a noted this but said nothing. He kept a safe distance between himself and the group, watching them as they mutely followed. He had positioned himself so the he was almost backing toward his storage area now.
When they reached the area, Borny'a pulled the tree limbs back and pointed at Gratz to open the door, using the point of the arrow to indicate what he wanted.
The being looked toward where he pointed, back at Borny'a once, then walked toward the door, snatching it open as he grasped the handle.
Gratz eyes widened. He saw more food than he could have imagined. He reached for the closest haunch of a wilant buck.
Borny'a reached and stopped him, “No! No. Not yet.”
“I'll have to inspect your trade,” he said, pointing toward the bundle and started walking toward the place the travois was dropped.
Gratz's face wrinkled and he looked back at the food locker as they walked away, but he followed. When Borny'a reached the bundle on the ground, he moved the poles aside but tried to move them slowly. He was a veteran of many battles and felt certain he was going to see a reminder of those times when he opened the blanket folded around the body.
He grasped a corner and raised it enough to determine the man inside was still alive. He noticed the wound cutting across the shoulder and the side of the man's neck, but more surprisingly, he was surprised by the clothing.
Refined landowner. What's he doing in this forest? I've not seen someone this fancy up here in too many years. And how did he get this knife slash across his shoulder? Who would have the nerve to do something like that?
He lowered the cloth and turned to Gratz who was standing quietly behind him. He stood to talk to the being.
“Where'd you find him?” he asked. Gratz looked at him a moment without moving then began to talk rapidly.
“Likes I say, the two valley. Wes searching bodies for good tings and draggin' away. Hez cry outs when pick hims up.” Gratz stood motionless, only looking at the sling with b
lank eyes.
“Gursz thinks good thought to bring here. Now he deads.” He looked over where the scout lay.
Borny'a just nodded. Looked back at the sling covering the body.
“Deal done. Let's get your food.” He starting walking toward his locker. “But, I'll not have you coming back for more, nor to steal from me.” he added, as he approached the opened door. “Take one man's supply each, no more.” He motioned to them to enter the shed and stood back.
Voravia's beings shuffled into the locker, grabbed what they wanted, or could carry, and quickly left the small building. Then gathered in a small group and stood waiting.
Borny'a, after waiting for the last, shut the door and placed his lock back.
“We have traded fairly. I trust you to honor our bargain. If not, you each will pay for your mistake.” He held the bow higher.
The group gazed at the bow a moment, turned away toward the forest, then back to look at Borny'a with just a glance, turned and walked away carrying their goods with them, then slowly disappear into the forest.
Probably have to move the rest. Can't trust them.
He turned and went to the sling on the ground. Squatting down he began to remove the material covering the man.
“Lot of blood lost. Big man, suppose I'll have to drag him,” He grabbed the corners of the material and began pulling the man toward the cottage.
“Let me help,” a voice spoke from behind Borny'a. He dropped the blanket, jumped across the wounded man, snatched the knife from its scabbard, turned in the air and landed facing the source of the voice.
It was Jond'r. Standing weakly, but standing, looking at Borny'a, who lowered his knife and reseated it into his scabbard.
“What're ya doing out of bed, boy?” Borny'a blurted out. He ran around to the Jond'r's side, putting his arm around the younger man's waist to steady him, said. “Ya might open your wounds being out here. What possessed ya to come out.”
Jond'r held his arm out; his sword was held firmly. “Seems you needed a little backup.” He pointed toward the exit where Voravia's beings had disappeared. “I'll admit I only have a little to give, but here I am.” He slumped a bit against Borny'a.
“Let's just get ya back to bed, young fellow. Then we can talk,” Borny'a added, tilting his head back toward the cabin.
“I know this man,” Jond'r said, with surprise. “It's Garv'n Anspar of Tariny. He was my master.” He slumped a little more. “All right, but you need to lie down. Missy will skim me alive if ya get hurt again.”
Borny'a began to lead the younger man back inside the cabin and helped him back into his bed.
“I'll take care of this,” he nodded toward the man on the ground. “Later, you and me can talk. Just sleep right now.”
“Right,” Jond'r wearily answered and almost instantly fell to sleep.
Garv'n? Borny'a shook his head. “Things just got more and more mysterious.”
He walked back outside to drag the other man into the cabin and with some effort managed it, laying the body on the floor to clean the wounds. He removed the clothing, disposing of them, cleaned the wound area and decided he would need to stitch it, or it wouldn't heal. After finally getting the wounds taken care of, he lifted the man onto the other bed, covered him and stood looking at him for a few minutes longer.
“You are a surprise, sir,” He shook his head, turned and walked across the cabin, grabbing some blankets as he found an empty place on the floor by the door.
“Guess ya bumped me outa my bed, too.”
He threw the blankets down and pulled out his pipe.
“Have to think on this for a while.” Settling down in his favorite chair, he packed the tobacco and lit his pipe. The smoke curled lazily about his head.
“Yep, gotta a lot of thinking to do.”
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