The Troven (Kingdom of Denall Book 1) (5 page)

The village council president continued. “In memory of his journey into adulthood, each boy in the summer of his eighteenth year
must leave Dungan
, for four seasons, with the intent of discovering his own place in the world, proving he can survive on his own. When he returns he is accepted into the village to take up his place as a man. The Troven is a tradition of our ancestors that has served each generation well in teaching our young men to find themselves, and to find a purpose in this world.”

The way she emphasized the words ‘must leave Dungan’ made Kaz think back to the time when he was very young, when Tomas had tried to outsmart the tradition by living just outside the village and snuck into his parents' home from time to time for warmth and some food. When his parents found him shivering and thin from lack of food, they took him in. As soon as the snow melted they left the village in shame with their son -- who would never be considered a man in Dungan.

In preparing for his Troven, Kaz had talked with some villagers who had built temporary cabins and lived off the land, and others who had joined the King's army. It seemed that every young man had his own idea of the best Troven experience, but what each had in common was that after a full year away from their families most boys returned, never to be called boys again, but men. Others found new lives in distant places and returned briefly from time to time, having earned their place as equally honorable men who were simply better suited for other places. There were also a few who never returned. When one year passed with no return, the sons were tactfully declared men who had gone to other realms.

When Gib had finished her part of the ceremony, Kaz released a moan as Check Mizar stepped forward to give his words of advice.

“Boys, every year the seasons change. The summer becomes fall and then the fall becomes winter. Winter gives way to spring which then changes into summer…” If previous years speeches were any indication, Kaz knew Check would go on for far too long. Kaz's part in this ceremony would not come for quite some time. One great advantage of not being a listener was that Kaz could tune out the boring monotone speech given by the graying member of the village council while he surveyed the audience.

He saw Garin and Farin's mother fighting back tears -- trying to put on a strong face for her boys. Their father stood taller than normal, filled with pride as his boys made the final step into manhood. They both made eye contact with Kaz and nodded in approval. After his parents died four years ago, Kaz had lived with Garin and Farin for a time. Scanning the crowd, he saw many families who had taken him in. He saw Ion and Sacks -- the town blacksmith and son. While he lived there for six months, they had taught him some of their trade, but he did not have the disposition for blacksmith labor, so they passed him to another family. He had tried livestock, farming, cleaning the inn floors, and even clerking at the general store with Bendar, but he never found his place in this town until Gran took him in.

As Kaz continued to look into the audience, he saw so many of the families who had been kind to him or helped him get through the difficult time after losing his parents. He also began to notice more and more eyes were looking back at him. When he saw Gran in the audience, she urgently pointed for Kaz to look to the center of the stage. He turned his head and realized they were all waiting for him. In a moment of panic Kaz's mind went blank.
What’s my line?
With a priceless grin for the crowd, Kaz sought through his mind for anything he may have remembered Gib or Check saying. He was at a loss, so he did the only thing he could think of.

“I'm sorry, did you say I could go yet?”

Kaz began to walk off the stage, which made the adults in the audience shake their heads or silently laugh while they restrained their children from open laughter. At the bottom of the stairs Gran met him with a stern look and turned him around.

“Go back and tell them your oath.”

With that reminder, he walked to the center of the stage.  There he raised his left hand and opened it for all to see his empty palm. This universal sign of honesty was made before making an oath, as a symbol that he was not hiding anything. With his hand outstretched he loudly began his oath.

“I swear in my travels to always do that which will bring honor to the places from whence I hail: the kingdom of Denall, the Western Realm, the village of Dungan.” Then with a pause uncharacteristic of Kaz, who was always a show off for a crowd, he emotionally added, “and most of all, the family name of Kinsley.” Kaz stopped speaking, and took a step back as Garin, Farin and Bendar repeated the oath. They stood silently on the stage as the villagers took one final look at the boys who would, in one year, return as men.

After a moment of silence, the audience clapped and cheered, shouting words of encouragement.

Kaz raised one hand and waved to the onlookers, then turned left and walked to the edge of the stage. He slowly stepped to the side, allowing the others to leave first. Kaz watched as the other boys met with their parents. Garin and Farin were met with solid hugs from their father and a fit of uncontrollable weeping from their mother. Bendar’s father gave his son a sturdy handshake and his mother gave him a strong hug while she dried a stray tear that escaped her control. Kaz was happy for the support his friends had, but felt a sharp loss at not having parents to bid him farewell. He also wondered what it would be like to get a parting gift. Garin, Farin and Bendar’s parents handed their sons each a small bag of items to help with their journey to manhood.

Kaz took a step forward when he saw an unexpected movement from the corner of his eye. Fenn was weaving her way through the crowd. Kaz stopped moving, knowing something fun was about to happen.
What is she thinking?

He looked back over his shoulder at Gib. Her dark gaze was a clear indication that she had also noticed her daughter’s trajectory, but in her position on the stage all she could do was watch as things unfolded.

Kaz took a slow step into the middle of the narrow stairs, making sure nobody from the town council could stop what was about to happen. Fenn was no longer slowly making her way forward, she had broken into a very unlady-like trot. She burst through the crowd of onlookers and threw her arms around Garin’s neck. Kaz covered his mouth to stifle a laugh that threatened to burst from him.

“What are you doing?” Garin asked, looking around awkwardly, knowing the eyes of the entire village were on him.

Without giving an answer Fenn pulled him close and their lips met. Kaz knew that this was the moment Garin had been anticipating for years, and he seemed to drink in every second. When she pulled away he gulped in a calming breath, and for a brief moment seemed to forget that he had an audience.

“Wow,” was all he could force out of his mouth.

She subtly slid her hand down Garin’s arm and placed something into his hand before she turned and darted off back into the crowd.

Kaz finished descending the stairs and patted Garin on the back playfully, his momentary grief replaced by amusement. His friend was now red-faced and facing the stern scowls of his parents.

Kaz made his way past his friends and began down the path when he heard his name being called. At first he thought he was hearing things, but after his name was repeated more urgently, he turned around. Gran called for him and slowly pushed through the crowd. When she caught him she reached up and gave him a tight embrace around the neck and placed in his hands a hand-knit sock that served as an unorthodox 'bag' of gifts.

“Kaz, care for this gift and it will care for you.”

Kaz looked up to the village council. “Gran I thought only parents could meet us before our Troven.”

Gran made a determined face and replied. “I don't care what they say. You are my boy and I'm seeing you off. Besides, if they let that girl give him a kiss, they’ll indulge an old lady.” She then kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you, Gran,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. He thought that he was prepared to walk off the stage alone, but as he held the small woman tightly in his arms, he realized how wrong he was. He didn’t want to let go.

When Kaz opened his eyes he realized, for the first time, he was being left behind by the other three boys who were making their way out of the village green. He whispered in her ear as he released her embrace.

“Goodbye. I will see you in four seasons.” Then he turned, and over his shoulder in a much more characteristic manner he added, “And don't forget to feed my pet mice, I've been raising them on your finest cheese.”

“You’d better get going now or you’ll not only find yourself on this trip, you’ll find my wooden spoon across your hind quarters!” She scolded with a playful slap on his rump. Seeing her playful scowl was exactly what he needed as a final farewell. Kaz turned and jogged to catch up to his friends as they turned their backs to the village.

Chapter 4

As they left the village, Kaz heard the band begin to play. The post-Troven-ceremony party had officially begun. He grabbed his stomach and tried to suppress a loud growl.

“Barely out of the village and you’re already starving,” Farin commented with a smirk.

“Give me a break!” Kaz demanded, then he sighed and continued. “I was just thinking of Mrs. Henchin’s strawberry pies, and fresh-baked sticky buns, and...”

Farin grabbed his own stomach, “Stop it!”

Kaz only smiled and playfully shoved his friend. “Speaking of things that are sweet to the lips,” Kaz said with an exaggerated pucker, “that was quite a memorable ceremony  for
you,
wasn’t it, Garin?”

Garin’s cheeks burned red, but he quickly recovered. “Make fun while you can. You’ll probably forget about it soon, just like your lines while on stage.” Kaz noticed Garin rub his hand over his front pocket and smile like a love-sick fool.
What did she give him?

“That
was
pretty sad, Kaz,” Farin added, “It was actually good that Fenn showed up so people won’t just call it the year that Kaz stood looking around like he didn’t know where he was.”

“Very funny,” he replied. He knew when the twins started ganging up on him it was time to change the subject. “So Bendar, what’s the plan?” 

Bendar looked back at Kaz. “I thought it was
your
village’s tradition for those being sent on Troven to be
silent
as they exit the village.”

Garin rolled his eyes and shook his head, and Farin just stayed quiet. “I think we’re safely out of the village, unless that was just a clever way of telling me you don’t feel like talking.” Kaz replied, looking expectantly at Bendar for a response.

When Bendar didn’t answer he looked around at the Segris twins, who seemed content to walk in silence. Kaz continued to hike for several minutes before he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Come on guys, we can’t just wander along like this for the next year! This is supposed to be our time. We’re out on our own. Every year we’ve watched people leave the village, but we’ve never known what they do when they get out of sight. This is our journey into manhood, our chance to have some fun. What do you want to do?”

“Anything,” Farin responded, as he broke off a small branch of a tree and began swinging it around. “Whatever we do out here is better than being back there.” He pointed back at the village that was disappearing in the distance. “I just wish I had left sooner.”

“Me too,” Garin agreed.

All three boys turned to look at Garin, but it was Farin who spoke. “I thought you hated the idea of leaving.”

“I do. I wish I had done this last year because then I'd be back by now,” he replied.

“Come on, like she’d have waited for you if you had left then!” Farin laughingly taunted as he jumped around Kaz and Bendar to get further away from Garin.

Shaking his head at the petty exchange, Kaz interjected, “You two are really amazing, you know that?”

“Thanks Kaz, I think you're pretty great too,” Farin said with a smile.

“That's not what I meant. I meant you're just so different.” Then, seeing that Garin was still walking with his head down, Kaz added, “And sulky.” Garin looked up with a glare and swung a wide, playful punch at Kaz who easily evaded it and then grabbed Garin in a headlock. “Besides,” Kaz added when Garin was able to struggle free of the hold, “doesn't Fenn have a younger sister?”

With a look of mock sincerity Farin nodded. “That's right, Garin, and by the time you come back as a man, she'll be out of diapers.”

“Seriously guys, do you really not ever think of what it will be like when we come back? The village will welcome us, we'll be able to build our own homes, grow our own crops, and start raising families. I can't wait to be done with this and moving on with life. Don't you ever think about what you want in the future?” Although Kaz would never admit it out loud, in many ways he looked up to, and envied the fact that Garin seemed to be so grounded and have everything figured out.

“I think about the future all the time,” Kaz interjected. “Like when will we get to the first food stash?”

“We have only been walking for twenty-three minutes,” Bendar said in a monotone voice. “Perhaps I should reconsider some of my calculations about your food consumption.”

“You’ve calculated my food consumption?” Kaz asked in disbelief.

“Eating is an important part of survival,” Bendar replied.

“What else have you calculated?” Farin asked.

“Hopefully everything.” Bendar stepped off the path and pointed to a hollow under a large cherry tree. “Just up ahead on the left is the first stash. That one should have been pretty easy to discover.” The first stash of supplies was covered with dried leaves, carefully camouflaged to blend in naturally.

The boys threw the leaves to the side and uncovered the large, wooden box. Kaz reached under the box to lift it up, but nothing happened.

“Are you going to pick it up?” Garin asked.

Kaz turned on him with a sour look, “Why don’t you try helping? This thing weighs a ton!”

The larger farm boys hefted the crate out of the ground easily and then pried off the lid, excitedly sifting through the supplies.

“Something must be wrong.” Bendar cut in, pushing his way to the crate. “Perhaps I have misunderstood this part of your tradition. If adults in the village find the food stash, do they not take some of the supplies, to help promote self-reliance among those who are sent on Troven?”

“That’s only
if
they find the stash.” Garin responded. “You must be better at stashing than you thought.” Although it seemed to irk Garin to admit Bendar was good at something, he also looked very satisfied to point out that Bendar was wrong.

“No I am not. This was found.” Bendar knelt down at the base of the tree and searched for tracks. Looking up at the others he continued. “I know it was found.”

“What are you talking about? Here are all the apples that I collected and all the salted dry pork Farin borrowed from Dad's smoke house. Two bow strings and a hunting knife. This is great!”

“Something about this is just not right.” Bendar looked concerned. “My parents knew about this stash. They should have taken at least half of the materials.” Kaz could see the worry creasing Bendar’s face, and it clearly bothered Bendar that the stash was intact, but the other boys just kept pulling out supplies.

“I'm telling you they didn't find it,” Garin insisted, gesturing to the undisturbed surroundings. “Can't we just be happy for what we have? Your calculations were wrong, but your stashing was perfect.”

“Let us gather what we can fit into our travel bags,” Bendar said, handing out the small burlap sacks from the supply crate, “We can reach the second stash by nightfall and that will be our campsite.” They filled the bags with the food and supplies, hefted them up, and continued down the dirt road.

At about noon Kaz was exhausted by the hours of walking down the dirt road carrying the heavy pack.

“I need to get this bag off my shoulders for a bit. Can we stop for lunch?” Kaz looked at the other boys pleadingly. He knew Garin and Farin worked on the farm and expected them to be in good shape. Trying to appeal to Bendar, Kaz added, “It’s logical to stop now, so our bags will be lighter after we eat.”

Bendar shook his head at Kaz’s remark, but seemed to be happy to shrug his bag off his shoulder and set it on the ground.

“We can stop for a little rest, but not too long. It is still a half day’s trip to the second storage crate.”

“Is there any way we can rest somewhere else today?” Kaz asked, wanting to have some fun on the first day of his Troven. “Perhaps right here. There is a stream we can collect water from, and we can sleep in that small stand of trees over there.”

Bendar looked unsympathetic. “That would be fine if you want to sleep without any shelter. Those supplies are in the second crate.”

“Why did you put them so far away from the village?” Garin asked. Kaz was happy that he wasn’t the only one not wanting to walk all day long.

“When we discussed it, everyone agreed that we wanted to get moving away from the village quickly.”

“I guess that was before we realized how boring it is to walk all day long,” Farin interjected.

Bendar exhaled loudly. “Next time, decide to make the camp closer, before I haul all the supplies so far away from the village.”

The boys were silent. Kaz looked apologetically at Bendar. He hadn’t thought too much about all the work Bendar had done over the past few weeks to get the supplies in place, and the more he thought about it, the more petty it seemed to be upset that he had to walk the distance one time.

“Thanks for getting the supplies in place,” he said.

Bendar nodded, “Let us eat so we can be on our way.”

While he chewed on a piece of dried meat, Kaz silently fingered the 'bag' Gran had given him. Although the tradition was for the boys to not open the gifts until they stopped for their first night, nobody said anything about feeling through the bags. The knitted sock contained some items that he could identify through the dense wool. First off, there was the second sock, and a small rectangular box. Knowing Gran it was probably a sewing kit. If the other boys asked about it, he could tell them it was to stitch up any deep cuts so he didn't come home looking like the latticed top of an apple pie. There was no way he was telling them that Gran had taught him to sew and insisted he mend all his own clothing. No matter how much time he spent fiddling with the gift sock, he couldn't figure out the last two items. One felt like a long, thick string or chain. It could be a snare or sling, but he couldn't be sure. The last item felt like a small, smooth stone.
What could she have meant by her farewell statement? One thing is for certain, I am not going to take up precious space in my travel bag to carry a 'lucky' rock for the next year.

The rest of the day was spent walking nearly due east on the main road from Dungan to the nearby town of Hillside. The journey was monotonous as they walked through the Woller Plains. Although they did pass some small stands of trees that provided shelter from the sun, most of their day was spent exposed to the direct sunlight while open fields spread out in every direction as far as they could see. Kaz tried to initiate some conversation, but it always fizzled, and they returned to walking in silence. The only real excitement was when Farin stumbled over a tree root and twisted his ankle. They needed to stop walking for exactly eleven minutes, as Bendar insisted on pointing out.

As the day came to a close, Bendar, without giving any notice to his companions, headed left off the road, awkwardly climbed over a short stone wall, and continued into an open field. In the field he counted eight paces west from a large stone and began to dig with his hands to unearth a wooden crate. All four boys hauled the crate up.

“This is even heavier than the last one,” Farin said through gritted teeth. “What's in here?”

Offhandedly Bendar listed the supplies. “Food, a flint, three more hunting knives, four longbows, arrows, quivers, travel bags, wood for one night of fire, spare clothing, a sheet of canvas for a shelter, a sword, and some other supplies that I thought would be discovered and taken away. We cannot take all of this.” Bendar anxiously rubbed his forehead, as if he was more deeply worried than before. “If the second supply stash is undisturbed, then the third was, in all probability, discovered,” he said to the group.

“Either that or nobody knows about any of the stashes,” Kaz countered. “That was an amazing hiding spot. Nobody could have found that.”

Ignoring Kaz’s comment, Bendar addressed the group, “I have selected a campsite in that stand of trees on the far side of this field.” He began to explain the reasoning for this location, but the exhausted group hefted the crate and walked the remaining distance without waiting for a full explanation. When they reached a small, flat spot, Bendar indicated they would stop. The boys dropped their heavy bags and the large crate. Farin and Garin massaged aching limbs, and Kaz simply collapsed onto his back looking up into the canopy of trees. He heard Bendar shuffling around getting the campsite set up, but couldn’t bring himself to move another inch.

“What are you looking for?” Kaz asked when he saw Farin haphazardly rummaging through the crate.

“This,” Farin responded, pulling out the sword.

Garin shook his head and threw his hands up in the air, “Are you kidding? Why did you have Bendar pack that?”

“It’s for protection,” Farin said as he drew it from the sheath and swung it around.

“What are you going to protect us from, mice? You’ve had like four lessons when you were a kid.”

“And I’ve practiced every day since, and worked with some of Dad’s hired help,” Farin countered. He thrust his sword forward to punctuate his words.

Kaz looked up from the ground, and from his vantage Farin didn’t look half bad. “I can’t believe you have the energy for that,” Kaz moaned. “Bendar, I'm not sure anyone has ever made this much distance on their first day of Troven.”

“Actually, I have read of some who claimed to travel through the entire night to arrive at Hillside and enjoy a restful night in the comfort of an inn. Three returned men wrote of Trovens that never involved sleeping a single night under the stars.”