Authors: James Wolf
‘Hey,’ Edar shrugged. ‘Never said I was perfect, not like the golden child over there,’ Edar nodded at Taem.
Taem scowled at Edar.
Elena mockingly pinched Taem’s cheek.
‘If you spend any more time looking grim, brother,’ Elena said, ‘your face is going to forget how to smile.’
‘Thank you for your concern, sister,’ Taem smiled, ‘but one of us has to keep your mischief in check!’
‘I want us to go into the village tomorrow,’ said Aunt Sera. ‘I need to get some more thread and needles to mend your clothes, and a dozen other things.’
The brothers and sister perked up at this, looking to Logan with expectation.
‘Fine by me,’ Logan picked up another piece of bread. ‘We will all come with you if you like.’
Macen let out a content sigh as he lounged back on his chair, whilst a smirk spread across Edar’s face. Any trip into the village was an opportunity for Edar to meet up with his friend Alandar, and that meant trouble. Alandar was the son of the innkeeper, and one month ago Edar and he had got so drunk on cider that they could not even stand. After they had created untold mischief around Cairbron, Macen and Taem had found the two fools passed out in the inn’s stables. Taem had been in two minds as to whether to tell Logan or not, but perhaps the thumping hangover had been punishment enough.
‘What’s so funny, brother?’ Elena teased Edar.
‘Nothing,’ Edar said innocently.
‘Thinking about what mischief you and Alandar can get up to?’ Macen said, causing Taem to smile.
‘No,’ Edar scowled. ‘Anyway, you must be looking forward to seeing
Cara
, the baker’s
daughter
…’
Macen swiftly turned a shade of purple.
‘Well met, brother,’ Elena grinned at Edar.
Edar could never let one slide without trying to get his own back, but even Logan let out a wry smile at Edar’s jibe.
This family were an enigma to the local villagers. Most of the locals were content just to let them be, happy to believe the rumours that they were training to be warriors – what with the threat of Krun raids from the mountains.
‘But do not forget,’ Taem said to Edar, ‘you and I must run through the defensive techniques sometime today – and that is far more important than heading into Cairbron.’
Edar scoffed, ‘Not everyone needs to practice the techniques to absolute perfection as you do.’
‘Edar,’ Taem shook his head. ‘Only a novice believes the perfect technique is possible, a Sodan knows perfection is unattainable.’
Edar scowled at the imperious way Taem talked down to him.
‘No, Taem,’ Logan said gently. ‘A Sodan
knows
a technique is as perfect as he can make it. You will learn this in time.’
Taem nodded, but still vowed to himself to train harder to get his techniques right. Elena caught Taem’s eye, and half smiled at him. Taem knew his sister was communicating that she wished he would learn to relax, but that was just not in his nature. There was always something to strive for, to work towards.
‘How is the paddock coming along, Edar?’ Logan said, his tone severe. ‘I do not see much of that long grass cut down, like I asked?’
‘I’m trying, Master,’ Edar passed around the plate of bread. ‘But it’s hard work cutting that whole field with those small hedge shears you left me.’
Macen, Elena and Taem exchanged twinkling glances as they all paused mid-chew.
‘What about using the hulking great scythe to cut the grass?’ Logan laughed warmly. ‘I did leave it out especially.’
The look on Edar’s face was priceless, and Taem and Elena laughed at their younger brother’s expense.
‘That would’ve been
too
easy,’ Macen smirked.
‘Oh,’ Edar scowled down at his plate.
‘Never mind, dear,’ Aunt Sera smiled as she patted Edar’s forearm.
‘Like I told you yesterday,’ Logan grinned at Edar. ‘I wanted you to cut the grass in the paddock and trim the hedge, not
trim
the paddock and
scythe
the hedge!’
Everyone roared with laughter. The trickster was on the receiving end of a joke, for once.
Edar had been on Logan’s strict orders to rouse at the crack of dawn that morning to start his penance. Alandar and he had released a sack of mice at last weekend’s “Annual Cairbron Cake Baking Contest”. The crafty duo had swapped the main showpiece cake, concealed within a box, with a sack of mice they had collected. When the time came for the box to be opened and the showpiece revealed, a swarm of writhing mice had scattered throughout the village hall, and the resultant shrieks had brought everyone in Cairbron running. Logan had been furious, and set Edar to a month’s hard labour around the farm, on top of training.
‘I thought you’d left me the shears as a punishment, Master,’ Edar snatched another piece of bread. ‘To make cutting the paddock really hard work.’
‘You’re right,’ Taem reached over the table to pass Edar the meat and cheese plate, ‘that would be really hard work! You would still be trimming that paddock come harvest, if you continued with the shears!’
Edar had the blackest of grimaces, as everyone laughed once more.
‘It was an easy mistake to make,’ Aunt Sera said, and the old lady’s caring eyes did cause Edar’s angry face to soften into a smile.
‘I am a hard taskmaster,’ Logan said, once he had stopped chuckling, ‘but I am not cruel.’
‘Yes, Master,’ Edar sighed, as he poured everyone a refill of milk.
‘Only you could “build a thoroughbred stable for a sheep herd”,’ Macen said to Edar.
‘Oh silence your mouth!’ Edar yelled at Macen.
‘Edar!’ Logan said sternly. ‘That is not becoming of a Sodan.’
Edar’s shoulders slunk down as he lowered his eyes, ‘Sorry, Master.’
‘To be Sodan is to live with discipline and determination,’ Logan said. ‘You will need to show both to get back in that field and finish your punishment.’
Edar nodded, with weary resignation.
‘And Macen,’ Logan said, ‘is the tool shed tidy?’
‘It will be,’ Macen looked out the window, avoiding Logan’s eyes. ‘I just haven’t had chance to sort it out yet.’
Taem sighed, as he reached over the oak table, and Elena passed him a slice of cold beef. Macen had a laid back approach to life – sometimes, Taem thought, a little too laid back for his own good.
‘What do you mean,’ Edar scoffed at Macen, ‘
you haven’t had chance?
The rest of us were up early while you were lazing in bed!’
‘Oh let him be, Edar.’ Elena snapped.
‘I said I’d do it, alright?’ Macen snarled at Edar.
‘But why did you not do it this morning?’ Taem said.
‘
Because
,’ Macen banged his hands on the kitchen table, ‘I’m going to do it this afternoon!’
Logan’s eyes blazed.
‘Sorry, Master,’ Macen took his hands from the table and placed them in his lap, dropping his head in disgrace.
‘Just see that it is done by this evening,’ Logan said.
‘I will,’ Macen nodded.
‘Did you all sleep under the wrong side of the moon last night?’ Logan asked. ‘It is unlike you to argue, and Sodan do not lower themselves to
bickering
and
taunts
.’
The disappointment in Logan’s voice pierced Taem deeper than a dagger thrust, and he glowered at Macen and Edar for being so foolish.
‘I thought I had trained my students better than this.’ Logan murmured.
All four apprentices went red faced and lowered their eyes in shame.
‘I will have no more of it,’ Logan said firmly, ‘is that understood?’
‘Yes, Master,’ all four apprentices said, and Logan nodded his head.
Edar gathered up everyone’s empty plates, whilst Macen went and lifted the kettle from the fire, filled the tea pot with boiling water, and spooned some tea leaves into the pot. Elena got out the china teacups and saucers.
‘If you are to become true Sodan,’ Logan said to his four apprentices, ‘you must start by honouring The Code. The Way of the Sword is not an easy path to tread. It requires a lifetime of discipline and sacrifice. A commitment to do what is right. Your mind and body must be as one, in perfect harmony with the world around you. Only then can you call yourself Sodan.’
‘Yes, Master,’ Macen said humbly as Edar bowed.
Taem nodded thoughtfully. He and his siblings had heard it all many times before, but Logan always reminded them what their training represented.
‘Sorry Master,’ Elena said. ‘We do honour The Code.’
‘Honour, valour, virtue.’ Logan whispered.
The four apprentices dipped their heads in respect to the Sodan Code.
‘That is The Code by which we live,’ the gleam never left Logan’s eyes as he spoke.
Very few alive knew the secrets of The Way of the Sword, and all were reluctant to pass on their knowledge. When – or if – they did, they only passed on their skills to someone they deemed worthy.
‘We saw Rhungars in the eastern hills again, Master.’ Elena said to Logan. ‘They think we do not see them, but you have trained us well,’ Elena smiled. ‘They have armour of
shining gold
! What could they be doing there?’
Before Logan could answer, a grand voice announced itself, ‘Alas! I see I have arrived too late to catch a fine lunch.’
They all turned to see Hirandar standing in the kitchen doorway. The people around the table leapt up to hug the old woman.
‘It is good to see you,’ Logan took the old woman’s cloak. ‘But I did not think you would be home for weeks?’
‘Situations have changed.’ The Wizard said darkly. ‘But let us leave that until a little later. How have you all been? You all look well!’ Hirandar grinned. ‘Have you continued your studies since I left?’
‘Yes, teacher,’ Taem answered for the four of them.
‘And your training?’ Hirandar said, as Taem took the Wizard’s gnarled staff.
‘We have intensified it,’ Elena beamed, as she lifted out a chair so Hirandar could be seated at the oak table.
‘Thank you, my dear,’ Hirandar patted Elena on the arm as she sat down. The Wizard asked similar questions of Sera and Logan, then continued, ‘Now that I have ascertained everyone is well, I am feeling famished after a week’s travelling…’
No sooner had she said it, and Macen had already placed a plate of crusty bread and soft blue cheese – the Wizard’s favourite – in front of the old woman.
‘Most kind, my boy,’ Hirandar smiled, as Sera gestured for Edar to get a cup of milk for the Wizard.
They all sat back down at the kitchen table to listen to Hirandar tell them of her journey – in-between wholesome mouthfuls of bread and cheese.
‘I travelled to Marnion,’ Hirandar said, ‘to the Realm of Magic, and many miles more to its capital, Calledron. I was called there by the great sorceress Manewe Baldomere, the head of The Order of the Sceptre, to a secret council for the forces of the Light.’
Taem had heard Hirandar mention The Order of the Sceptre before, and he knew it was a gathering of wizards
Hirandar washed down her bread and cheese with a big swig of milk, before she continued, ‘This council’s purpose was to oppose the works of the Dark One Malveous. I told the council that the times we had long feared were now upon us, that the powers of Darkness are growing. There are more Krun raids from the Lost Realms, and increased activity in the far North, with more Beastmen marauders surging out from the Shadowlands, into the Borderlands of Sarcaedia. Even in the cities there is more crime and rioting. These are worrying days ahead.’
Hirandar gazed at the four apprentices, searching them with her dignified blue eyes.
‘The balance of good and evil is shifting,’ Hirandar whispered. ‘Dark times are coming. The shadow of Malveous looms over Hathlore.’
‘I can feel it,’ Logan murmured, ‘seeping through the land like a cold mist.’
Taem shivered at that, despite the warmth of the sunny day. For Taem realised that he could feel it too. Taem must have come some way along the path of the Sodan, if he was now beginning to sense such things.
‘We can no longer stand by and do nothing,’ Hirandar said firmly, looking to Logan and each of the four apprentices. ‘I think it time we left the farmhouse.’
The three brothers and sister all gaped at the old woman in disbelief.
‘Tomorrow we shall all set out,’ Hirandar said. ‘Although I wish to rest my old legs for a few days, there are things that supersede my weary limbs.’ Hirandar rubbed her aching muscles. ‘Elena, Macen and Edar will go to West Aritas, where the border with Marnion meets the Blue Mountains.’
Macen and Edar’s eyes widened with shock, their grins full of enthusiasm. Elena scowled.
‘I am not to go with them?’ Taem said.
‘No,’ Logan murmured. ‘There is something else you must do first.’
What could that possibly mean?
Taem wondered to himself.