The Book of the Fathers. 2

From: Bill Thompson <interlit_at_pacificcoast.net>
Date: Thu, 2 Apr 1998 23:03:47 -0800 (PST)

        For a week now we have been in this forest. A rich loamy scent fills the air and strands of light hang like vines from the canopy above. The trees surround us on all sides. Their girth is twice the length of Richter's horse and old man moss grows freely on their haggard surface.

        We would be lost if it were not for Geoffrey. From the first that we entered this perpetual wood he has been at the forefront. He tells me that when he needed to escape from Father's eye he would slip off to the Erinwood north east of Baustin. There, he said, he could hide for a week or two before having to return and face Father.

        Isn't it strange that after all these years living in the same household it is only now that I have begun to know my brothers. Geoffrey has much in common with these woods I think. There is a stillness in him that I had not seen until I had this forest to measure him against.

        Richter on the other hand chafes at our wild prison.

        When we first entered the wood we found it cool and refreshing, by midday the heat and humidity were uncomfortable. In most places the underbrush was heavy enough that we were forced to lead the mounts. By the time that evening drew nigh we were tired, dirty and reeking of sweat and horse.

        We set up camp for the night. Cold camp, no fires said Geoffrey. Richter wasn't impressed, he likes his hot Kalan root in the morning. Long before the end of the second day Richter began to strip off his armor. I was hoping he could hold out longer. Geoffrey just smiled as I handed him the three silver marks.

        It was during the third day that I began to feel the forest. Father always said that I was too empathetic. That I trusted to much to my feelings and not enough to my head. Well somewhere during that day I began to notice more than just the heat and bugs and sweat. Somewhere in there I began to feel a distant throbbing. Akin in a way to my own heartbeat but so much larger and slower. Geoffrey was watching me with a worried look so I gave him a smile and tried to ignore that sensation.

        It was the day after that when we met the woodkin. I had been immersed in my exploration of this strange new world when I realized that someone, something, was pacing me. I looked over and met the clearest of liquid green eyes. They were large and round and green from lid to lid. Not a trace of white or sign of pupil. Within them I saw .... something. Even now I am not sure what it was but I recall that just as I thought I had it, he blinked and it was gone.

        I don't know why I assumed that this creature was male. He was slim of build. Effeminate some would say. Yet there was an aura about him which was distinctly masculine. Most telling of all perhaps was the way in which Richter immediatly became adversarial.

        He named himself S'drith the Awakener. At least that is what Geoffrey told me he said. They talked for a time and then the woodkin slid back into the greenery and out of our ken. Geoffrey said that we had been granted passage through the forest. What he did not say was that his guidance, choice of campsites and insistence on no fires had saved us.

        I think that Geoffrey learned much about both the forests and himself during those times when he escaped from Father.


        After two weeks in the forest the sea air smells like life anew. So clean and brisk compared to the green earth scent of the woods. Four weeks it has taken us to reach this seaport. We could have made it in less than two if Richter hadn't killed Bevin DePorier.

         I discovered the name when Father touched his mind to mine last night. Father was not impressed, he was very quiet. When Father gets quiet, things happen, unpleasant things. Richter knows that silence only too well. I remember when he told Father that he was taking his Vows into the order. Father was very qiuet for a very long time. I think it is the only time I have ever seen Richter flinch. In the end though what could Father do. These are new times and the Prince made it possible for Richter to move into his dreams.

        I think that Father forgets sometimes that he can never go back, and when he remembers he gets very very quiet.

        Never have I seen so many Earthfolk. Caravans of ore from the Iron Mountains are brought here for trade and then shipped away to ports far removed. One of the ships coming in for ore brought fathers package. Wily old bastard, half of his ships have homing circles built into private masters cabins.

        So anyhow, I'm sitting here looking at the chest. I would have opened it by now but I'm sure Father has left a few dirty tricks. I've already dismantled a ward knot and a tangle of two stage glyphs. What has he hidden?


        It's two days since my last entry. Where does Father get these tribal spirits? Damn thing almost killed three people before I could contain it. As it was, the Innkeep was so distraught that we had to move. Richter was pissed. I probably foiled his plans to kill someone else.

        The chest contained three long cloaks fashioned entirely of leaves and a crystal of storage. If these don't get us close to the Damali chieftan nothing will.

more later

Bill Thompson

"I remember gaudy days

        when the year was springing:
Tammuz, Gilgamesh, and I

        Clinking cups and singing..."

JMM-Silverlock


End of The Glorantha Digest V5 #519


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