The Chronicles Of Hvad Ch 03

BORNA CHAPTER 3

- "I fuckin' hate this." cursed Abirad. He had slept badly.

- "There's a chill in the air." I observed. Ignoring Abirad was the only possible approach to his complaints. If you answered him, he could go on forever.

Borna nodded. "I feel it."

There were eight of us. Seven and a half, really, however much Shant pretended that he was a warrior. Khoren was impatient for action, but Borna had to be realistic. We weren't about to recapture our steading. Seven and a half against 75 would not end well.

We had the horses, and the women, to worry about as well. Our first concern would have to be food. And if we were still sleeping in the woods in a few weeks' time, then shelter and clothing were going to become issues.

Borna and I made another night time excursion, this time with Lovro and Abirad. We visited a few of the outlying farmers, men who lived a mile or more from the steading. Men we thought we could trust.

They weren't warriors, and they weren't about to leave their farms to join us in the forest. But that wasn't what we had come for. Borna was not demanding armed support.

- "When I can offer you protection in return, I will." he said. Instead, he asked about hay and grain, chicken and pigs, sheep and cattle. That was when we discovered that the invaders had not been idle.

Seventy-five men and horses take a good deal of feeding. If they weren't going to exhaust Gosdan's stores, they would have to find more food and fodder from the outlying farmsteads. Maigon and Vazrig had begun collecting.

We learned which farms had already been compelled to contribute. It was child's play to discern the pattern of the enemy's collections - and to predict where they would go next.

Abirad wasn't happy with Borna's quick decision.

- "We have to run? All the way back to the blueberries? In the dark? Fuck me!"

- "Just run." said Borna.

Back at our camp, Borna made his dispositions. Abirad and Shant were left to watch the women. The rest of us had another run to look forward to.

By dawn, though, we were concealed in a farmhouse belonging to a fellow named Umada. He kept pigs, and a few chickens. His wife held her breath as we crowded inside her little house, armed to the teeth.

We heard horses, and then voices. They called Umada by name, which surprised me. Borna gave the signal, and rushed out the door. Khoren, me, Lovro and Priit - we all surged out into the yard.

There were four of them, and they were completely unprepared. They didn't have weapons to hand, and certainly weren't expecting trouble. Two had dismounted: Borna and Khoren slaughtered them.

Lovro grabbed the third, who was on horseback, and clove his skull in two with his axe. Priit and I attacked the last rider, who was so stunned he never even got a weapon out. I grabbed the horse's bridle, to steady it, and prevent it from bolting, while Priit stabbed the rider with a long knife.

It was over that fast.

Then I saw who Khoren had killed.

- "Fuck! Khoren - that's Andon!" I said.

- "So?"

- "He's one of ours!" I shouted. Andon was a member of Gosdan's druzhina, one of our comrades in arms.

- "He was with

them

." said Khoren, with a scowl.

- "You think he had a choice?" I said. "They forced him!"

Borna put a hand on my shoulder. "It's done." he said.

He was right, of course. We stripped the dead, and then bound Umada and his wife. That was my contribution to Borna's idea: it wouldn't look like the farmer had been in on it, if we left him tied up.

- "Do we take the horses?" asked Priit.

- "Leave them." said Borna.

Priit looked to me, and raised his eyebrows.

- "Too easy to follow our tracks." I said. "Besides, we can't feed them in the forest. There's barely enough grain for the ones we have now."

- "Just shut up and do what you're told." said Khoren, ever the diplomat.

I was still seething when we returned to camp.

- "Too bad about Andon." said Lovro. "I quite liked him."

- "Me too." said Priit.

Lovro shrugged, and looked down on me from his commanding height. "Would've gone badly for him in any case, if we'd let him live. He would've had a hell of a time, explaining it to Maigon. Or Vazrig. He's a crazy bastard."

No one suggested that Andon could have joined us. We all knew that his young wife was with child, and nearing the end of her term. He couldn't have left her. Now she was a widow, and her unborn child already an orphan.

***

Killing three of their men was the equivalent of kicking a hornet's nest. We knew what was coming, and pulled back, deeper into the forest. I did my best to obliterate our tracks. Priit helped me drag broken branches across the paths we had made, and we pushed over a dead tree, so that it looked as if it had fallen naturally.

There was some high ground, fifty to sixty yards beyond the clearing we had occupied, where we could wait, and watch. The next afternoon, Maigon and Vazrig's men came through the blueberry patches. There were more than fifty of them, and they were angry.

Mushtal was there, too. We could hear him swearing. It might have been funny - except that for them to find the clearing so quickly, someone we knew had to have talked.

We were in no danger, though. They couldn't climb the bluff, and it would take them ages to work their way around our position. They wouldn't dare that, once darkness began to fall. Of course, we had no way to strike at them, either.

Yes, we had some hunting bows. But none of us were expert, and firing an arrow through the trees is like running through a storm while trying to dodge the raindrops.

I lay on my stomach, directly behind a scraggly, stunted jack pine. I had piled some fallen branches in front of me, so that I could see through them, without being spotted myself. Priit and Lovro were with us, similarly concealed.

However, Borna chose not to leave our foes entirely unscathed. He rose to his feet, and stood on the edge of our little hill, until they finally caught sight of him.

- "My lord!" shouted one of the warriors. He pointed up the hill.

Maigon, Vazrig, and Mushtal moved their horses to a position from where they could see through the trees. Manahir's grandsons said something to each other which we could not hear. Mushtal was not so reticent.

- "You're a dead man, Borna!" he shrieked.

- "Guess he heard about his father." said Borna, but not loud enough for anyone else to hear but us.

- "If I take you alive, you'll wish you were dead! I'll take your head, and fuck your skull! I'll shit in your open mouth!" screamed Mushtal.

- "Why so angry, Mushtal?" shouted Borna. "Is it because I killed your father? Or because I took his hoard of coins?"

- "Fuck you, Borna! I'll have my vengeance on you. And all of your pathetic little band! Tell your Hand that we started with his mother, and his sisters! The older sister was a tasty little morsel, I can tell you that!"

I heard his words.

Some men burn hot, and explode into action when challenged. I could have leapt to my feet, and screamed defiance. But I am not built that way. I went cold, instead.

Lovro reached out and grabbed my wrist. "He's lying."

I just nodded.

The next voice I heard was Vazrig's. Maigon's brother - Manahir's second grandson - was a weedy runt. He wore his hair long and straight, trimmed his beard and shaved his upper lip. His big eyes were unsettling - there was the tinge of madness there, just below the surface.

- "Your family are safe with me, Borna!" he yelled. "I've already taken your mother as my concubine! And your sisters are under my

personal

protection. I won't touch them - until they're at least twelve!"

- "Sleep with one eye open, Vazrig!" shouted Borna.

- "I'll be waiting!" laughed Vazrig. "But I'll be a lot warmer than you will - especially with your sisters as my pillows!"

Maigon put a hand on his brother's arm.

- "Hear me, Borna!" called Maigon. "You cannot win! All of Yeseriya is united against you!" He paused, and took a deep breath. "Your family, and your friends - there's no need for them to suffer! You've lost! Face it like a man!"

- "What the fuck does that mean?" muttered Lovro.

Borna did not reply.

- "Think on it, Borna!" continued Maigon. "Choose the honourable way: single combat! I can fight you here and now, if you want!"

"Or your Hand against mine! Say the word!"

- "I will." answered Borna. "I will say the word." He raised his arm, and pointed down, into the clearing where so many of our enemies were assembled.

And then he whispered, so that only we could hear.

"

Vengeance

." he said.

Then he stepped back, and down the reverse slope a few paces, so that they could no longer see him.

- "Let's go." he said.

***

I followed, in a bit of a daze. Were Mushtal's and Vazrig's threats hollow? They had to be - so I told myself. But what they had said was very disturbing. That's why I was looking inwards, occupied with my own thoughts, instead of paying attention to my surroundings.

Borna might have been equally distracted. I can't speak for Lovro or Priit. None of us saw the archer until he stepped out onto the path directly in front of us.

- "That's far enough." he said, in a remarkably deep voice.

None of us had a shield, or a chainmail shirt. We might have drawn weapons, and tried to rush him, but we couldn't stop him from loosing an arrow - which might well prove fatal for the first person in line - and that was Borna.

Then we heard rustling in the trees, off to our flank, and we knew that the bowman was not alone. Borna raised both his hands, slowly, palm outwards.

I could see the man with the deep voice, over Borna's shoulder. He was definitely not one of Maigon's warriors, or Mushtal's. His clothing was ragged, and filthy. Much of it seemed to consist of well-worn leather. His skin was dark, and he had long, stringy hair.

- "Who are you?" said the bowman.

- "Borna, son of Gosdan."

- "I thought so. What are you doing here?"

- "What am I doing?" repeated Borna. "Hiding from my enemies - the men who murdered my father and brother, and have taken over our steading. What are

you

doing here?"

- "We live here." said the bowman. "In a sense,

you're

the one trespassing."

Borna spread his hands. "Perhaps we could come to some arrangement - temporarily."

- "We already have an arrangement." said the woodsman. "Though it seems you don't know about it."

- "Who

are

you?" asked Borna.

- "First, give me your word that you will not try to kill us."

- "If you don't attack me or mine, I can promise you that." said Borna.

The man with the deep voice lowered his bow. If he'd wanted to attack us, he could have struck before we'd even known he was there. Still, he hesitated for a moment before making up his mind.

- "Then come with us."

The woodsman led us almost directly to the small hollow where we had hidden the four horses and a fair portion of our plundered supplies. But he stopped well short of it, as if wary of putting himself into a situation where we would outnumber him even more severely.

- "Your friends are far too noisy." he said. "They also don't know how to conceal their fire. I daresay the men following you might not find your camp ... but for the people of the woods, you might as well be blowing horns and ringing bells."

- "The people of the woods?" Borna was clearly intrigued. "How many of you are there?"

The bowman simply shook his head.

"Well ..." said Borna. "Could you show us how to properly conceal our fire?"

- "Why would we do that?"

Borna smiled, for the first time. "Because our enemies might find

you

, by mistake, while looking for us. And we may be here for some time. Besides - you said it - we already have an arrangement. What exactly

is

our 'arrangement'?"

The bowman was still reticent. "You really don't know, do you?"

- "He doesn't." said Lovro. "But I think that I do. You're Urshan's boy, aren't you?"

The woodsman studied our lanky giant.

"My name is Lovro. I would have been around five years old when your father left."

- "I know that name." said the archer. "My father spoke of your sire." He extended his hand to Lovro. "I am Kawehka - son of Urshan."

- "Urshan." breathed Borna. "I know that story!"

- "Do you?" asked Kawehka.

- "I don't." said Priit.

- "It was over twenty years ago." said Borna. "Before I was born. Urshan was a friend of my father's. He was accused of murder, but he fled to the forest."

- "They say that Gosdan let him escape." said Lovro.

- "That is true." said Kawehka. "It was when Gosdan had only just become Hospodar. His position was still precarious. He had no brothers, and no son."

- "No heir." said Borna.

- "Exactly. If he had died ... there was no clear successor. So a warrior named Malkhas began to gather support. This Malkhas was a good fighter - big, and tough."

- "Your father told you this tale?" asked Borna.

- "Every year, without fail." said Kawehka. "Do you wish to hear it?"

- "I'm sorry. Carry on."

- "This Malkhas had followers. They respected his skill with weapons. Your father, Gosdan, was always more of a thinker, a planner. This group of malcontents sought to maneuver Gosdan into a position where Malkhas could challenge him to single combat. But Gosdan was too clever. He never gave them the opportunity. He was scrupulous in his judgments, and adhered strictly to the law."

"Then my father - Urshan - found out that Malkhas was plotting to murder Gosdan."

- "How did he find out?" asked Borna.

- "Malkhas asked him to do the killing."

- "What?" said Borna. "I thought that your father and mine were friends."

- "No." said Kawehka. "My father was a friend of Malkhas."

- "But he drew the line at murder?"

- "He drew the line at the murder of our Hospodar." said Kawehka. "Urshan told your father what was being planned. I do not know what was said, and my father never explained it very well - but he agreed to kill Malkhas instead."

"Unfortunately, someone saw him do it."

"Gosdan owed Urshan a debt he could not acknowledge. So he helped him to escape, and to hide in the forest."

Kawehka smiled. "My father was no woodsman. But Gosdan ensured that Urshan would survive. He gave him knives, a bow, furs, and pots, and salt - especially salt."

"My father had all he needed to live on. But

your

father knew very well that Urshan's 'exile' was permanent. It would not be forgotten, in the steading, and it could not be forgiven."

"Urshan was very lonely out here. He had not met the foresters - the people of the woods. They were wary of him. He was all by himself."

"Gosdan fixed that, too. He found my father a bride. Her name was Cemekala."

- "Cemekala?" said Lovro. Obviously, that name meant something to him. "But she was .."

- "Born simple? Or 'touched', as some would have said?" said Kawehka. "She was. Her parents cared for her as best they could. The whole steading looked after her. But even as she grew and matured, physically, she remained simple."

"Gosdan made her parents an offer, and paid her bride-price. He brought her to Urshan. My mother, Cemekala."

- "Does she ..."

- "She lives. Urshan passed away five years ago, but my mother lives. As do my two sisters."

- "They said she just wandered off." said Lovro.

- "That was the story her parents told, at Gosdan's urging." said Kawehka. "They couldn't very well admit that they had given her to a murderer - or that the Hospodar was still delivering supplies to him."

Kawehka looked down, for a moment. Then he raised his head, and looked Borna in the eye. I would have sworn that he was almost smiling.

"How are my grandparents? And how is my uncle Asadour, that I have never met?"

- "Your grandparents died years ago. And Asadour was killed in an ambush, with my father and brother, only a few days ago." said Borna.

Kawehka bowed his head. "I am sorry. I bore them no ill will. In fact, I am grateful to them. Had they not agreed to Gosdan's plan, I would not be here."

- "Why didn't you come back?" asked Borna. "When your father died, I mean."

- "The son of a murderer and the village idiot? Would I have been welcome? Would my sisters be offered honourable marriages?"

There was no answer to that.

"How did your father die?" asked Kawehka.

Borna told him. He would not have mentioned our assault on Asrava's steading, so I did it for him. Kawehka did not seem all that impressed.

- "I am sorry about Gosdan." he said. "He kept to the agreement with my father. He never failed to bring us what we needed."

- "Is that the 'arrangement' you spoke of?" asked Borna. "Because if it is, I would be happy to continue it."

Kawehka stared at him for a moment. "There's no need. With our fathers dead, their secret no longer needs to be kept. The same holds true for my mother, if her family are all gone."

"But I see your mind." said the woodsman. "You want my help. And that of the foresters."

- "We do need help. All we can get." admitted Borna.

- "You don't know what you're asking."

- "I think that I do." said Borna.

- "Your steading is overflowing with enemies. We can see them, when we go near." said Kawehka. "If we help you, they might come after us. I sympathize with your plight - but there is no bond of loyalty between us."

- "There could be." said Borna.

Kawehka nodded. "Yes, there could be. But for now, all of the obligation would be all on our side. And our only reward would be to share your danger."

I chose that moment to interject. "You may share the danger in any case. If Maigon's men sweep the forest, they won't be too particular about who they kill."

- "They won't find us." said Kawehka. He seemed quite confident of that. "I'm sorry - but your fight has nothing to do with the forest people."

- "Then why show yourself to us at all?" I continued.

- "To find Borna. We came across some of your friends wandering the woods, looking for you. Stay here - and we will bring them to you."

We had little choice.

When we rejoined the others, Borna described our encounter with Maigon, Vazrig, and Mushtal. Noyemi had the grace to blush, and hang her head, when she heard what her brother had screamed at us. Garine showed no reaction, though she glanced quickly in Khoren's direction.

- "Why did you tell them about the coins?" Abirad wanted to know.

- "Just to throw them off." said Borna. "Some of them will be more eager to get their hands on Asrava's hoard than they are to find us."

- "And now these foresters know where we are? I fucking hate foresters."

No one answered Abirad. We all had far too much to think about.

Kawehka did return, just before dusk. With him were three people we knew well.

Dontran was the most skilled carpenter from our steading - a joiner, a fitter, who could build many things. His most valuable talent was the making of barrels, kegs, and chests. He was no warrior, though. With him was Pima, his bride-to-be, a shy, gentle girl.

- "I didn't like the way they were looking at Pima." said Dontran. Even now, among friends, he kept his arm around her protectively.

Pima's sister Berit was the third member of their little party. Berit was a friend of my sisters, and a girl my parents had more than once suggested that I marry. She wasn't bad-looking, I suppose. But Berit was stubborn, and prickly - she never conceded a point. For some reason, she was carrying a shield, and had a helmet jammed onto her head.

All three were filthy, and covered in mud. They were plainly exhausted; Berit looked angry.

- "I was hoping for warriors." whispered Abirad.

- "Shut up, you ass." I hissed at him.

- "Is that blood?" asked Priit.

- "It's not mine." said Berit. She was trembling. But she strode over and stood before me.