The Book of the Fathers 5

From: Bill Thompson <interlit_at_pacificcoast.net>
Date: Wed, 8 Apr 1998 01:40:04 +0100


The Gilboch is our refuge now as it once was for the Pendali. We have worked our way upriver from the point of our collapse pausing only to sleep. Even the preserved rations that Richter thought to take from the ship are eaten on the move.

This land is inhabited, farmers mostly, but sometimes merchants moving towards the rivers with wagons of early tubers. I feel that we should avoid them and my brothers concur. Geoffrey suggested trading for horses but Richter quickly vetoed him.

"What have we to trade with," he asked. "We carry no trade goods and they have no use for silver or gold. What would they do with it, smelt it down and fashion tools. Their horses have more value to them than our gold and I think they would not willingly trade them away."

"Besides," he added. "I will not ride some hackneyed dray."

So we pushed on. The nights were cold and we three brothers who had been kept so apart for so long huddled close for warmth. It was both strange and comforting. As we walked Geoffrey gathered leaves and roots that he said would fortify us for our journey. Richter grimaced but ate them.

On our fourth day we found a game trail that connected to the river. There were tracks of cloven hoofs upon it that Geoffrey said showed regular use. It was decided that fresh meat was a desireable thing so we stayed.

We had left the ship without a bow and Geoffrey said that as yet he had seen no wood that could be used to manufacture one. Richter said that they could not get close enough to use blades and that we must strike them from a distance. They both of them looked to me. I know very well that Father trained them as he had me. But in the end they both followed the princes lead and chose their own paths. I alone stayed with Father and continued my studies. So they look to me when it comes to the art. I think sometimes they do it just so I have a place.

They came late in the pre-dawn. Small graceful creatures with large liquid eyes and otherworld beauty. I watch as they slip ghostlike to the waters edge. one watches, ears aswivel , while the others drink. Father has taught me so many ways to take life and yet none seem right when faced with such luminous beauty. I have no choice but to invoke the prophet and stand. I hear my brothers sharp intake of breath, a protest unvoiced. The animals see or hear me and they are gone. All save one who remains rooted in place. His legs tremble with the effort to flee but they no longer heed his commands.

I walk towards it and in the dark. I can taste it's fear. It stops it's struggle and watches me from the depths of those unfathomable eyes. What does it see as I move towards it. Does it see a young man who is lost in this strange, strange world, or does it see death?

I lay my hand along it's neck and feel the muscles quiver beneath my hand. How can I remove such beauty from this world, I marvel to myself. My eyes meet its' own and time halts. I look deep into those majestic orbs and see only myself.

In the end my Father has trained me too well and I go smoothly through the motions. Arterial blood, rich and hot flows over my hand and fills my senses.

As it's life spills out onto the ground it begins to struggle. Not a struggle of the body, for it knows well what is happening, but a struggle of spirit. I release my will and stand there knowing that it still has enough strength for one final lunge. One last act that would plant those tiny horns well within my own beating heart. Yet instead it takes as its' last mortal choice a deep breath of this once clean night air. Then it looks at me and dies.

I felt it's spirit twine about me briefly as if in thanks and then it was gone.

Richter said nothing as he finished dressing the carcass. Geoffrey though looked at me for a long moment before taking that quicksilver blade and cleaning it. He slid it back into my belt and bade me to wash my hands. The river water was cold. The sand was sharp. It took a long time to get that blood from my hands. I have killed men before and felt less remorse.

That night as I fell asleep I heard Geoffrey whisper, "We are what our Father has made us"

They must have thought me already asleep for Richter replied. " It's our fault. We left him there too long."

And the rest faded into blackness as exhaustion claimed me.

I awoke to daylight. We had slept later than our norm and had much ground to cover. Richter shouldered the meat and we set off. I remember that I marveled at his stamina. As we walked Richter began to talk of his days when he trained to take his vows. Geoffrey soon joined in and told of his early days with the woodfolk. I had no tales to tell but I joined in their laughter. We walked late that day and maybe it was the meat, or the sun, or maybe it was nothing at all but for a time there I felt that I belonged.

Four more days found us at the edge of this forest and we willingly entered its borders. We followed the river as we had before but it was more difficult now. Rather than the fields and light brush that we had traversed before, we now found our way blocked by undergrowth of fern and bramble.


Two days into the woods. I have begun to have the strangest dreams..



On the fourth day the river turned north. Geoffrey took out waterskins that he fashioned from the hide of the creature I had killed. We filled them in the river and continued into the depths of the Forest. I asked Geoffrey why it was that we had seen no woodkin. He looked about with a troubled face and said that he did not know.

Richter snarled at us today when we offered to help carry the food. When it came time to eat I heard him growling to himself. Geoffrey circled about until Richter had eaten his fill and then he served himself. I asked Richter if he was feeling well but he just flashed his teeth at me and then ignored me.
The dreams are stronger now and when we walk I can sometimes here voices whispering in the darkness.

The food supply is running low. Ricther is not sharing. the golden ones, the voices. If only I can make out what they are telling me..

Food. A boar broke cover today and Ricther and Geoffrey pounced upon it in a heartbeat. It fought hard but they worked well together. While Geoffrey raked its rear leg to distract it. Richter readied himself. When the boar turned to use its tusks Richter lunged onto its back, fastened his teeth into its neck and let his weight drag it down. As it thrashed on the ground Geoffrey lunged in as well and his teeth made short work of the boars jugular. The smell of fresh blood enflamed us and for a time we hunched above the corpse and fed. Then satiated we moved into the bushes and slept.



I woke from dreams of blood and battle. The forest around me was alive with torches and the ring of steel. I have blood crusted on my chin and in this beard that I do not remember. What is this battle that I see? where did this blood come from?

I went to wake Geoffrey. He too is blooded! If only I could remember the dreams.


The cry of a raven woke me this morning. My clothes are in tatters and I am cold. I look around and other than a small deer that some wild creature has dragged down I see nothing of note. The raven feeds on the body and I leave him be. I searched for a while before I found my pack and this book. I have reread my entries and a cold sweat is forming on my spine..

I found Richter and Geoffrey curled up in some grass not far from the raven's feast. Ricther still wears the sword. I slide it from its' sheath and direct it across the clearing to where I wait. When it reaches my hand I thrust it point first into the ground and pray for the lawgiver to hear me.

It takes me longer than it should but eventually I receive his blessing and the pressure that weighs on my mind slides off. Now I must attract my brothers.


They saw the carcass and came to feed. They could sense a change in me and they were wary, circling so they could get my scent. Eventually hunger overcame their vague misgivings and they entered the circle. They both of them dropped like rocks in a pond. Hours later they came back to themselves and found me kneeling by that sanctified blade, praying. When I felt their hands on my shoulders I looked up and beheld the true faces of my brothers for the first time in what may have been weeks.


We are out of that accursed place and back in the sunshine where we belong. We have stripped off our clothes and bathed in a creek .I hope that I will soon forget most of what occurred there.

Father told me that Lamras layed down a curse. I never expected to walk into the deepest part of their once stronghold . I certainly didn't expect to lose myself as easily as I did. One day I shall return here and lift this, or raze the forest.

more later
(it'll be a couple of weeks as I am heading to California with the my wife and kids. Look out Disney it's vacation time.)

Bill Thompson.

"Ask me a riddle and I reply:
"Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie.""


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