ChrisGibson
JUB Addict
Only the sound of crackling fire could be heard, and the falling of a leaf when Wolf went quiet and they all sat before you.
“I didn’t know you had such music in your, brother,” Anson began, and Wolf was about to reply when, instead, he said, touching his sword, “what’s that?”
No sooner had he spoken and Myrne turned around, then out of the bushes jumped men on every side. There was no time to assess them, but Imogen shouted as her wrists were grabbed and penned behind her. Myrne felt hands on her throat, and then heard a death gurgle as Wolf’s sword went over her head and through the shoulder into the heart of whoever held her. As the assailant fell, almost dragging her down, and she freed herself, Ohean stood in the midst of them, and reciting a word, limbs from the trees above fell, a branch swung against another brigand, hitting him on the head. Anson’s sword had gone through two, and Thano and Pol stood behind him.
“Nafat,” Thano cried, spitting into another one’s eyes, and he dodged away, screaming and when Myrne heard it, she said the same thing, turning to spit in the face of a man who tried to come behind her.
Ohean pronounced another word, but he seemed to be standing in the midst of them doing nothing, almost unaffected. However, when he spoke, the brigands became more clumsily, or fell to the ground, or seemed to stumble into a tree that was not there before, in his red mantle, the handsome mage seemed calm, serene, but suddenly he called out, “Anson!”
Out of the woods had come another brigand, and while Wolf struck one with his dagger and another with his sword, the second escaped, coming against tall Anson. His sword was about to come up into Anson’s belly when Ohean pronounced a word and the sword faltered and the man died. He was the last of the men, and now Myrne saw there was a feathered arrow in his back.
“What in the…?” she began.
“Feet!” Wolf cried, still at attention. “Halt! Who comes!”
“Peace,” a voice called out from the night.
At once they all stood still, but maybe it was because Ohean was still. Out of the trees came four men and one woman. Myrne noticed she was about the same age as herself. The men were Ayl but for one White Monk, and led by a handsome fellow abour Wolf’s size. They seemed to be, by the firelight of the night, in brownish green the color of the woods, and the girl was Royan, as red brown as Ohean. Indeed, she was was running to Ohean, when a last brigand came out of the wood and, quick as anything, she ttook out a knife and plunged it into him.
As he fell in the middle of the clearing, the girl with the long black hair embraced Ohean, calling him, ‘Cousin!” and while the rest of the companions looked at this new party, the handsome man—he was undoubtable handsome—who led them, doffed his feathered cap like a young lord and said, “Peace be to all you, I am Michael Flynn, and these are my woods Or, if not my woods, then certainly the woods I keep in safety.”
The trees of this wood were so very old they were wide as several men and bent, twisted by time into forms, many of them, housing all manner of life though the trees themselves were often dead. The shadows they made on the ground while Michael led them had made Imogen and Anson and the others feel something higher than eeriness.
“Lonesomeness,” Wolf said. “Yes.”
“The Ayl,” Michael said, “more than the Hale, though the Hale as well now, have a foot in two worlds. There is the world of the North from whence Eoga and his corsairs came, and this land, the Royan land, which the Royan blood you possess has always known. And so always there is something calling to us. We are home, and yet home is somewhere just over the hill.”
Michael Flynn had led them by paths they had not dared to travel into the depths of Ardan Wood, and now they descended into a deep clearing, large as a castle. Here, in the night there were many more men and not only men but women and children, living freely in the forest like the First Men of the long ago world. Boars were roasting over fires, and boys were jumping over ditches, playing at arms. Still others were, tending horses, preparing food for the morrow or for the late night as if they were, indeed in a castle. They possessed everything but the walls, and walls seemed a thing beyond these people.
“It seemed as if you were working a great magic,” Wolf said to Ohean, “when that last arrow came. “But then it was Rob.”
“Can you not see, Wolf?” Polly, the black-haired companion to Michael Flynn said, “That was a great magic. After all these years do you still expect the power to be like fireworks and balls of flame? It works itself out through the way of things. Why do you think you were unscarred while you fought?”
“I felt myself keener,” Anson said. “I will not say I was a poor warrior before, but I felt myself sharper, stronger, almost untouchable. Was that you?” he turned to Ohean.
“There is magic in you too,” Ohean said. “But it was partly me. As were the trees. As was the clumsiness of the brigands. But for the most part I called out to Michael Flynn and Polly. And so they came.
“You defended yourself most admirably,” Ohean added, turning to Myrne, “with that inventive spell.”
“It was actually a spell to find poison,” Myrne said. “I inverted it. I had no idea how unable I was to defend myself until then.” And then she said, turning to Polly, “and until I saw you.”
“But why do you call Ohean cousin?” Imogen asked Polly. “Are your families very close?”
“Oh, very very close,” Polly laughed. Her eyes were wide and dancing in the night. “I call him my cousin because he is. My mother is Meredith, the daughter of Nimerly, which would make me,” she turned to Anson, “your cousin too.
“My motherhis sister loved to go out into the world so did I, and it was in the world,” she touched Michael’s cheek, “that I met this one, and many adventures came to me because of him, So here I am.”
“One day, love, the adventures will be at an end.”
“Oh, I hope not,” she said, “though I could stand to leave these woods.”
“But how did you come to be in the woods?” Anson asked him.
“The same way as you, Prince Anson,” Michael said, “by the great displeasure of a treacherous king.
“I didn’t know you had such music in your, brother,” Anson began, and Wolf was about to reply when, instead, he said, touching his sword, “what’s that?”
No sooner had he spoken and Myrne turned around, then out of the bushes jumped men on every side. There was no time to assess them, but Imogen shouted as her wrists were grabbed and penned behind her. Myrne felt hands on her throat, and then heard a death gurgle as Wolf’s sword went over her head and through the shoulder into the heart of whoever held her. As the assailant fell, almost dragging her down, and she freed herself, Ohean stood in the midst of them, and reciting a word, limbs from the trees above fell, a branch swung against another brigand, hitting him on the head. Anson’s sword had gone through two, and Thano and Pol stood behind him.
“Nafat,” Thano cried, spitting into another one’s eyes, and he dodged away, screaming and when Myrne heard it, she said the same thing, turning to spit in the face of a man who tried to come behind her.
Ohean pronounced another word, but he seemed to be standing in the midst of them doing nothing, almost unaffected. However, when he spoke, the brigands became more clumsily, or fell to the ground, or seemed to stumble into a tree that was not there before, in his red mantle, the handsome mage seemed calm, serene, but suddenly he called out, “Anson!”
Out of the woods had come another brigand, and while Wolf struck one with his dagger and another with his sword, the second escaped, coming against tall Anson. His sword was about to come up into Anson’s belly when Ohean pronounced a word and the sword faltered and the man died. He was the last of the men, and now Myrne saw there was a feathered arrow in his back.
“What in the…?” she began.
“Feet!” Wolf cried, still at attention. “Halt! Who comes!”
“Peace,” a voice called out from the night.
At once they all stood still, but maybe it was because Ohean was still. Out of the trees came four men and one woman. Myrne noticed she was about the same age as herself. The men were Ayl but for one White Monk, and led by a handsome fellow abour Wolf’s size. They seemed to be, by the firelight of the night, in brownish green the color of the woods, and the girl was Royan, as red brown as Ohean. Indeed, she was was running to Ohean, when a last brigand came out of the wood and, quick as anything, she ttook out a knife and plunged it into him.
As he fell in the middle of the clearing, the girl with the long black hair embraced Ohean, calling him, ‘Cousin!” and while the rest of the companions looked at this new party, the handsome man—he was undoubtable handsome—who led them, doffed his feathered cap like a young lord and said, “Peace be to all you, I am Michael Flynn, and these are my woods Or, if not my woods, then certainly the woods I keep in safety.”
The trees of this wood were so very old they were wide as several men and bent, twisted by time into forms, many of them, housing all manner of life though the trees themselves were often dead. The shadows they made on the ground while Michael led them had made Imogen and Anson and the others feel something higher than eeriness.
“Lonesomeness,” Wolf said. “Yes.”
“The Ayl,” Michael said, “more than the Hale, though the Hale as well now, have a foot in two worlds. There is the world of the North from whence Eoga and his corsairs came, and this land, the Royan land, which the Royan blood you possess has always known. And so always there is something calling to us. We are home, and yet home is somewhere just over the hill.”
Michael Flynn had led them by paths they had not dared to travel into the depths of Ardan Wood, and now they descended into a deep clearing, large as a castle. Here, in the night there were many more men and not only men but women and children, living freely in the forest like the First Men of the long ago world. Boars were roasting over fires, and boys were jumping over ditches, playing at arms. Still others were, tending horses, preparing food for the morrow or for the late night as if they were, indeed in a castle. They possessed everything but the walls, and walls seemed a thing beyond these people.
“It seemed as if you were working a great magic,” Wolf said to Ohean, “when that last arrow came. “But then it was Rob.”
“Can you not see, Wolf?” Polly, the black-haired companion to Michael Flynn said, “That was a great magic. After all these years do you still expect the power to be like fireworks and balls of flame? It works itself out through the way of things. Why do you think you were unscarred while you fought?”
“I felt myself keener,” Anson said. “I will not say I was a poor warrior before, but I felt myself sharper, stronger, almost untouchable. Was that you?” he turned to Ohean.
“There is magic in you too,” Ohean said. “But it was partly me. As were the trees. As was the clumsiness of the brigands. But for the most part I called out to Michael Flynn and Polly. And so they came.
“You defended yourself most admirably,” Ohean added, turning to Myrne, “with that inventive spell.”
“It was actually a spell to find poison,” Myrne said. “I inverted it. I had no idea how unable I was to defend myself until then.” And then she said, turning to Polly, “and until I saw you.”
“But why do you call Ohean cousin?” Imogen asked Polly. “Are your families very close?”
“Oh, very very close,” Polly laughed. Her eyes were wide and dancing in the night. “I call him my cousin because he is. My mother is Meredith, the daughter of Nimerly, which would make me,” she turned to Anson, “your cousin too.
“My motherhis sister loved to go out into the world so did I, and it was in the world,” she touched Michael’s cheek, “that I met this one, and many adventures came to me because of him, So here I am.”
“One day, love, the adventures will be at an end.”
“Oh, I hope not,” she said, “though I could stand to leave these woods.”
“But how did you come to be in the woods?” Anson asked him.
“The same way as you, Prince Anson,” Michael said, “by the great displeasure of a treacherous king.
