Read Halfstone: A Tale of the Narathlands Online
Authors: Daniel White
“I didn’t throw myself off the cliff for no reason,” he retorted,
annoyed. His brother was often doubtful of his words.
Kaal didn’t reply, just continued to eye him sceptically.
“Aldrick, you said it fell down the cliff, yes?” asked Braem. “I
am hoping you saw it die. We cannot have it prowling here.” He spoke with
containment, his fear subdued by reason.
“Yes, it fell. It landed by the stream. I didn’t see it moving.
From that height I assumed it must have been killed.” Doubt crept into Aldrick’s
mind. Was it dead? Had he too hastily dismissed a threat that might return to
haunt them? “We have to check!” he exclaimed.
“Yes, we must,” agreed Braem. “But you must stay here. Vara will
see you are cared for. Kaal and I will go.”
“Braem, no. It’s too dark now. Wait for the morning, won’t you?”
pleaded Phelvara. She clutched a terrified Bree in her arms.
Braem looked at her gravely. “This cannot wait, Vara. We have to
be sure.” He turned to Kaal. “Come.”
They readied themselves quickly. They lit torches from the flames
of the fire, armed themselves with bows and hunting knives from a cabinet by
the door, then left into the night. Phelvara told Bree to mind the cooking,
then tenderly ushered Aldrick to his room. He felt blissful comfort as he
collapsed upon his bed. After seeing he was resting, Phelvara left to heat
water for his injuries.
Now alone, Aldrick found his mind flooded with questions and
concern. Was the ka-zchen dead? Where had it come from? Why had it come here?
He turned onto his back and rubbed his eyes, ill at ease.
When Phelvara returned she sat by him and wiped his face with a
warm cloth, cleaning scratches he had received as he fled through the forest,
then gave him a soothing ointment made from garden herbs to rub into his
inflamed shoulder. She had always been an exceptionally caring parent, pausing
whatever she was doing to make sure her family was well and content. Yet while
she tended to him now, her face was a deathly white. He had received far worse
injuries as a child, but the fact that these ones were the result of an
encounter with a ka-zchen was visibly causing her much anxiety.
“I just can’t believe this has happened,” she said, leaving his
side and walking to the window.
“It’s all right, Mother. I am sure the ka-zchen is dead now,” he
said as confidently as he dared. “It probably wandered down here from the
north. I strayed upon it by chance.”
He hoped it had just been chance, yet he couldn’t shake the
thought that the beast had been lurking there for a reason. Why else had it
been troubled enough to enter a crowded forest that constricted its passage?
This had been the reason it did not easily catch up to him while he fled—it had
found sprinting between the trees more trying than he.
Phelvara left the window and made to exit. “I’m going to check
upon Bree and wait for the others. You stay and rest. We will eat later.”
He wanted to wait with her. He feared for Braem and Kaal and
needed to know that they were safe, that the ka-zchen had indeed perished. Not
only that, but he wanted the reassurance of knowing they had witnessed the
beast with their own eyes and did not doubt his far-fetched and nightmarish
tale of encountering it. Phelvara’s instructions to remain put were wise,
however. He was in no state to leave. He made himself comfortable and closed
his eyes.
Aldrick heard the front door open and close, then voices. Braem
and Kaal had returned. Phelvara was with them in the living room. Feeling a
sudden spurt of energy, he pushed himself to his feet and made his way to them.
They stood together by the fireside, talking in hushed voices but grave tones.
Bree was watching them with one eye from behind her door.
“Was it there?” he asked nervously.
They turned to him.
“Yes, it was,” replied Kaal, looking rather daunted. “It’s dead.”
He felt relief sweep through him. He nodded. “Good.”
Braem and Phelvara continued to stare at him, their faces both
pale. Something was wrong.
“What?” he asked anxiously.
“Aldrick,” Braem began. “I don’t believe the ka-zchen was here by
chance… it had been branded with the sign of a master on its chest.”
His heart leapt. “It… had a master? What was the sign?”
“A blue butterfly.”
“A blue butterfly,” he repeated. “Blue? But brands aren’t
coloured. Do you mean it was inked on?”
“No, it had been branded… with magic.”
When Aldrick opened his eyes in the morning it was as if he had
woken into a dream. Usually his first thoughts were of the long day of work
that lay ahead of him, either helping Braem on the farm or hunting in the
forest. Today though, he found his mind occupied by giant beasts, magic and
unsolved mysteries. Excitement brimmed within him. There was a dull ache in his
shoulder but it would not impede him. He had to get up and go to where the
ka-zchen lay. He had to see it—confirm the world in which he lived really was
one of fantasy, that all those childhood stories were true. He sprang upright, threw
on some worn trousers and a cotton shirt, then made his way through the house
whilst still buttoning it. At the door he jumped into his boots, socks absent,
and ran outside, oblivious to his slapdash appearance.
It was a fine day. The view was stunning but presently he had
little interest in sightseeing. He made straight for the base of the cliff. Dew
had settled over the farm in the night and his trousers were dampened to the
thighs as he made his way through the fields. It didn’t bother him. He scrambled
over one last wooden fence and up a small rise from where he could look down
upon the stream.
There it was—a black mound upon the rocks. Kaal stood by it. Aldrick
made his way down to him and stopped at his side. Neither of them spoke a word,
only staring in awe. Up close, the ka-zchen was even more terrifying than he
remembered. It was huge. Though now limp and lifeless, razor-sharp claws
remained fully extended from its padded feet. Its head lay on one side, the
rocks around it stained by black blood. He had at first likened the beast’s
sleek body to that of a cat, but now saw that the head shared similarities with
a wolf’s. It was elongated with flared nostrils at its snout. Its mouth hung
open on a slant revealing huge, jagged fangs rooted in strong jaws. Its ears
were stiff and pointed at the tips. Below them, wide eyes hid behind tufts of
black hair. Their orange flare had faded and they were now a vacant grey. It
smelt foul—like an aged, damp dog, only twice as potent.
After some time Kaal broke their silence. “It’s… big,” he
murmured.
Aldrick nodded, not taking his eyes off it.
Throughout their lives, he and Kaal had done much together. They
were very close. But surviving the ka-zchen was something Aldrick had achieved
on his own. Although his mind was unspoken, Aldrick knew Kaal was impressed by
this. He in turn was quietly thankful. This moment they shared together now,
awestruck by the deathly sight before them.
There was more than the appearance of the ka-zchen on Aldrick’s
mind, however. He wanted answers to lingering questions—who had sent it and
why? Braem and Phelvara had acted oddly last night, blindly refusing to offer
any insight beyond the magical nature of the brand… the brand! Suddenly
remembering this, Aldrick stepped closer to look for it. It wasn’t hard to
find. Near the centre of the beast’s chest was a small area where its hair was
shaven. On the exposed skin was a dark blue butterfly outlined in gold. Magic
had made this! It was unlike any marking Aldrick had seen before. It appeared
as a coloured tattoo, only the colouring was uncanny; it was brilliantly rich
and glinted ever so slightly, almost like the powder on the wings of a real
butterfly. It was as if the brand had appeared there without the craft of any
tool. Could it really be that a wizard wished him dead? The thought was crazy.
Kaal’s eyes were on him. “You know, last night that brand was the
first thing Father looked for when we came here. He didn’t even stop to make
sure the beast was dead, just went straight to that, like he expected it to
have a master.” Kaal hesitated briefly, then continued. “And he said something
to me, Aldrick… he said they have found you.”
Aldrick stared at him.
“They?” he repeated to himself. “This is crazy. What would anyone
want with me? I’m kind of, well, ordinary and boring, aren’t I?”
“I thought so,” replied Kaal jokingly, then his tone became serious
once more. “I was thinking—maybe it has something to do with your past, with
your parents or something.”
“My parents?” Aldrick was taken aback. “My parents are here.” He
knew well that Braem and Phelvara had taken him in as an infant, but this was
fairly common in these parts. People were kind and supportive and very few orphaned
children remained so for long. He rarely mused on his lineage. Ever since he
could remember he had been a son to the Fletchers.
“Yes, I know—we are your family,” said Kaal politely. “But it’s
worth considering, right? I mean, can you think of a better explanation for why
something like this,” he gestured toward the ka-zchen, “would find itself at
our doorstep?”
Aldrick couldn’t. They were a simple, good-faring family who lived
away from the busyness and troubles of the surrounding world. If what Kaal
suggested was true, he found no sense in it.
“Surely my real parents were also ordinary and boring. Why would
someone who had a quarrel with them want me dead all these years later?” Though
sceptical, he couldn’t deny that some part of him was warming to the idea that
his origin story might bear some unspoken significance. He had no desire to be
hunted, but the thought that he was somehow entwined with a world where magic
existed was enticing.
Kaal shrugged.
“Time will tell us all,” he said. “Perhaps Father was wrong and it
was simply a stray and you happened to meet it up there.” He peered up the
cliff. “Hell, that’s a long fall.”
“Most likely,” Aldrick said, also looking up. “Even if it did have
a master, it wasn’t necessarily under orders when I came across it, right? It
probably came at me because I made it mad—shooting at it… looks like I managed
to completely miss.”
Kaal frowned. “Still, I wonder who its master is. We should ask Father
today. Hopefully he’ll be more eager to talk than he was last night.”
Aldrick nodded. “We’ll get the whole story. There has to be some
half-reasonable explanation for all this.”
“There always is.”
They left the ka-zchen’s rocky grave. No longer in a hurry, Aldrick
took time to acknowledge the beauty the morning had brought to the land.
Everything looked fresh and awake. The air smelt of damp earth and grass. In
the heights of the forest, moss birds sang their gentle songs in union. A few
wisps of mist lingered in the sky but did not block the sun’s light from
greeting the lower coastal land. Every field, brush and knoll between them and
the ocean flaunted the tepid colours of autumn. The ocean itself was a restful
turquoise. Behind the house Phelvara was throwing breadcrumbs to enthusiastic
sparrows, and out the front Bree rode around on a pretend pony that Braem had
fashioned for her from a lancewood stick and an old straw pillow. Braem was
probably down in a lower field herding sheep to fresh pasture. Everything was
as it should be, save for the creature’s corpse behind them. It remained out of
place in some ineffably strange and ominous way. Perhaps it was the magic it
bore with it. Aldrick considered this until Kaal interrupted his thoughts.
“Do you want to come with me to Rain today?” he asked. “I’m taking
the cart. We need to sell some things at the market. You could just relax and
enjoy the ride. I’m sure you are fit for it.”
“I’ll come along,” said Aldrick. A trip to the village would be
nice. He feared that if he stayed Phelvara would insist he remain indoors under
her over-nurturing watch. Suddenly he remembered something and stopped walking.
“When do you plan on leaving?”
“Soon, I want to be there by noon.”
“All right, but first let me fetch some things I dropped in the
forest yesterday. As you might imagine, I was in quite a hurry.”
Kaal chuckled. “I’m sure you were,” he said. “I’ll ready the
horses and see you back here soon.” He continued on.
“See you.” Aldrick changed his course and made his way across the
bridge and up into the forest. He found it to be once more its calm, peaceful
self. Only moss birds and the odd few little mammals lingered within the trees.
His possessions were easily retrievable. The ka-zchen had kindly made a clear
pathway through the undergrowth while chasing him and he could now follow it
back toward the clearing and pick them up as he went. For a moment he considered
that they may be able to track where the ka-zchen had come from, but concluded
that it would be a foolish endeavour. Its prints would undoubtedly lead far
beyond the forest and eventually fade from the earth. He still sought answers,
though. Who was its master and why had it been sent here? He would ask Braem
all of this in the evening after returning from Rain. Bothering Phelvara about
it now would not be wise.
Before leaving for Rain, Aldrick had a hasty breakfast and dressed
in some more presentable clothes—fine cloth pants and a tunic. He chose to wear
sandals as he wasn’t wearing socks anyway. Kaal wore similar clothes but had
chosen a dyed black leather vest. Aldrick had noticed his brother always wore black
to the village and guessed this was because he thought it attracted the women
folk. Admittedly, Kaal was always two steps ahead of him when it came to courting
women. It must be his clothing.
After Aldrick had successfully avoided Phelvara and said goodbye
to Bree, the two of them set off down their road. It took a little time to
reach the base of the mountains. The road wound its way back and forth down the
slope to reduce its steepness, and there were half a dozen gates to be opened
along the way. However, at level ground it met the coastal road between
Farguard and Rain and they were free to be on their way. Aldrick sat on the
back of the cart, accompanied by some sacks of grain, garden vegetables, and
salted meats that were to be sold at the market. The journey felt brief. It was
filled with hearty chatter and accompanied by a refreshing sea breeze.
Shortly before noon, they found themselves at the entrance to
Rain. It was a large village. Being the main port in the south meant that
business prospered and many people from the province and neighbouring lands
sought to earn their livings here. The streets were well kept and the people
kept well. Democracy reigned and social progress was promoted. The appearance
of the various dwellings reflected this with every one suggesting a fair income
and many a door being left open wide and welcoming. Occasionally one would hear
news of a tavern brawl or a petty theft, but this was generally caused by
newcomers who were soon to learn that incivility was not lightly dismissed.
At the centre of the village, a little way in from the docks, was
a large market ground that was always busy on a fine day. He and Kaal made
their way there through the crowded streets. They found the market to be
particularly lively. Music and dance was abundant. People’s spirits were high.
They were making the most of the last warm days of autumn.
When they had found a free stand and unhitched the cart, Kaal led
their horses to stables and left Aldrick to mind the produce. He was glad to do
so. Being around people always raised him up. He often felt isolated on their
farm and village trips were a welcome escape.
When Kaal returned he decided that because Aldrick was in such a
good mood, he could handle business himself and left again to join in the
dancing, most likely in the hopes of meeting a fine young lady or two. Aldrick
was a little jealous, but happy to exchange cheerful banter with customers as
they made their market rounds. Trade flourished and in short time there was but
one sack of Phelvara’s greenstone beans left to be sold. No one seemed to want
them.
Just as Aldrick was considering returning the beans to the cart, a
hooded figure approached from within the milling crowd. It paused in front of
the stand and stood staring down at it, face concealed.
“Afternoon, can I help you?” he inquired politely. There was no
response. “Only the beans left to buy I’m afraid,” he continued. “They are
actually very nice… if you boil them for long enough.”
Now the figure spoke. “Yes, I will have them.” It was a raspy
female voice. She sounded northern, perhaps even from as far as the Greater
Northern Provinces.
“The beans it is, then. That will be three in bronze, thanks.”
She handed him two silver coins from a leather pouch at her side.
He grinned. “I’ll give you your change if I may see whom I serve.
You’re not from around here, are you?”
She hesitated for a moment then slowly, cautiously, removed her
hood. A flood of hair fell to her waist as she lifted her head, smiling at him.
He felt a flutter as his heart was stolen. He was gazing upon a young woman, no
more than a year older than himself, who bore all the beauty and grace in the
world upon her face. She was perfect, too much so to be real. Her skin was a
fine ochre silk; her cheeks smooth and rounded, as impeccably curved as the
contours of the moon. Her eyes were the lucid green of a rainforest,
accentuated by those waterfalls of ebony locks. She was a beauty beyond words,
beyond belief.
“No. I am from Daraki’ Anya,” she replied.