The White Orb

Chapter 2: The Woods

Caleb gained consciously slowly, eyes blinking and trying to focus. If one thing could be determined from his blurry vision, it was that he was not in his hallway anymore.
When he was finally able to focus, he was able to conclude that he wasn't even in the same house, town, or maybe even county.
Faint sunlight filtered through a dense covering of oak branch, spotlighting a few places on the ground. Everything was covered in a light, unoppressing shadow. Birds flirted this way and that, tweeting contently. Wind softly murmured as it passed through leaves and around thick trunks. It seemed like a peaceful forest.
But this was in the back of Caleb's mind, and understandably. He had just been abducted by some fog from his house into some unknown forest. Battling thoughts swirled through his head, nipping and biting for attention.
This isn't possible!
Where am I?
How did fog get inside my house?
Why did the marble start swirling?
At the last one, Caleb paused and lifted the marble - still clutched protectively in his hand - up to his face. It was still glowing faintly, milky white insides swirling and rotating.
What the heck?
He was rudely startled out of his thoughts by a nearby horn blasting out in triumph. The birds squawked in alarm and flew away. And far in the distance, a faint sound carried in the wind - the sound of dogs barking.
What's going on?
The dog barking rose a pitch, and the horn sounded again. It was getting closer. The screech of something dying rose above it all.
A chill ran down Caleb's spine. Something was happening.
The sounds of horses clomping through undergrowth was now in the mix. The racket was getting steadily closer. Men shouting in triumph and excitement reached his ears too. Caleb perked up. Signs of civilization!
But then he paused. He wasn't sure whether to run from the disturbing noises or run to the only sign of human life he had seen so far.
The decision was made for him when the wind stopped and the noises got a whole lot louder. Caleb jumped in surprise. The wind had changed somewhere back when he was listening, and instead of carrying the sounds, it had muffled them!
A deer suddenly bolted through the covering undergrowth, leaves rattling. Fear shown in its white eyes as it darted past Caleb in a rush. The loud barking made clear that hunting dogs were not far behind.
So Caleb ran toward the nearest tree. He didn't need a bunch of blood-crazy hunting dogs tearing him to pieces like helpless prey.
A few branches up the thick oak tree, Caleb became extremely glad he had made the decision to climb. The pack of dogs, maddened by the hunt, caught sight of him and immediately charged. They shredded layers of bark of the old oak as they tried in a fury to get the small pre-teen that was so infuriatingly just out of reach. Caleb pulled up his feet as powerful jaws snapped just below.
A group of horses pulled up nearby, whinnying and stamping their hooves. Their riders, garbed in hunters' gear, shouted sharply at the dogs. They pulled back, whimpering and whining. A few of them shot Caleb murderous glares as they snuck to their masters' sides.
One of the men, well-muscled and tall, dismounted and approached the tall oak threateningly. “Get down from there!” he yelled, shaking his fist.
Feeling quite intimidated and shaken, Caleb slid down the tree. Had he trespassed on someone’s private property? Would they even believe him if he told them how he had gotten there?
As soon as Caleb had gotten down the tree and had faced the man, the man started again. “Who are you, and what are you doing in Farlin Woods?” the man rumbled, eyes boring into the boy. “You know this is the king’s private woods and trespassing is prohibited!”
Caleb shook his head, confused. A king? Was he in England? Farlin Woods wasn’t the name of any forest he knew or remembered.
But he was trespassing! Fear made him tremble. If he was in a country ruled by a king, then the trespassing punishment could be anything, even to death!
The man tapped his foot, apparently waiting for an answer.
“M-my name is Caleb. And  I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you how I got here,” Caleb muttered.
The man growled, prompting him to continue anyway. The other men on the horse shifted impatiently, their dogs growling and tearing at the ground. They were evidently very annoyed at this interruption to their hunt.
“Well, I was packing up my stuff, because I was moving bedrooms at my house.” Caleb glanced at the man. The face was unchanging, as if his scowling, thunderous face etched in stone. “And I found this weird marble on my dresser. I picked it up, and suddenly I was surrounded by mist. I fell unconscious, and next thing I knew, I was laying on the forest floor.”
The man’s frozen face turned darker. “How dare you lie to us!”
“Stop!” commanded another man in the group, dismounting as well. He walked with confidence, radiating an aura of authority despite the covering hunting cloak he wore. “There might be some truth to what he says,” the man continued.
The first man’s face melted and he backed away obediently. “Yes, your majesty.”
Nodding to his subject, the king turned to Caleb. “I am King Clayton. Show me this marble.”
Feeling compelled to obey, Caleb opened his hand and showed its contents to the King. The King’s face was lightly illuminated by the soft, rotating glow of the marble. His face lit up with it. “It’s back! After a month, The Orb of Power has returned!”
Orb of Power? What’s that?
The king’s gloved hand flashed out for the orb. Caleb quickly closed his hand and pulled it away. The King hissed. “Give the orb to me, on threat of your life!”
Despite the horrid threat, Caleb was compelled to keep the orb away. King Clayton reached for it again, just in time for Caleb to pull away. This happened again and again, Caleb playing keep-away with the furious King.
Eventually the King got tired of such a trivial game, and turned around and walked back toward the horses. Spitting at the boy, he signaled his men, who began to move in with swords and clubs.
Caleb backed up to the tree, nowhere to go. Why had he not given the orb to the King? Why had he been so obdurate?
-Quickly, threaten them with the orb-
The boy flinched at the words. They sounded like they were coming from inside his own head. He started staring around, making the King’s men pause. What was the boy looking at?
-If you want to keep the orb, threaten the men with it-
More confused and scared than ever, Caleb continued looking around. The King’s men got tired of the little game and moved in faster.
The boy got desperate. He quickly considered doing what the voice said. He had nothing to lose.
“Stop right there!” Caleb shouted, holding forth the orb menacingly. He put on his most threatening, mean face he could, trying to sound tough. “One step further, and I’ll destroy you!”
The men visibly hesitated, struggling between wanting to save their lives or obey their lord. They looked to the King imploringly.
The King growled and threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine! You keep it!" He then continued to stare at Caleb weirdly, as he men returned quickly to their mounts with relief.
"Well, I doubt you can live in this wilderness alone," the King said smoothly. "Allow me to be your host for a few days; come to our castle and live with us for a while."
Already Caleb knew that he could not trust this man, but he had some truth to him. Alone in this weird place, there was no way he would be able to survive for more than a couple days. Caleb suddenly remembered the day that he had decided not to be a Boy Scout, and he greatly regretted that.
Besides, if he got this King's castle, maybe he could figure out where he was and get back to civilization and home.
"Okay," he said, still keeping the orb at the ready. Hopefully these men would not figure out that he really had no idea how to use the white orb. 
So Caleb walked behind their hunting group as they walked back to the castle. There were some murmurs of grumpiness at having to cut short their hunt, but no outbursts were made against the King's judgement.
Along the walk, Caleb learned some of their names. The man who had first confronted him, the King's personal friend, was named Michael. Two others of the group were bodyguards, and they were the brothers Nicholas and Trevor. With dark hair and eyebrows that seemed to always be furrowed, they were silent the whole time. The rest were high members of court or other political allies, and he didn't catch their names.
Caleb's legs felt like they were liquid fire when they exited the trees. A little distance away their was a large river, crashing and gurgling along its banks. A stone bridge hang over it, like a rock creature stuck in mid-jump. And just visible in the distance was a massive fortress of iron and stone, bristling with all sorts of war implements. Caleb assumed that this was the castle, the one they called Garemir Castle.
After crossing the stone bridge, the castle became rapidly closer. The area around it were covered in slight rolling hills, and Caleb found himself breathing hard at the top of each. He felt extremely out of shape.
Then finally, they were in front of the enormous, moat-surrounded iron mass of Garemir Castle. Several turrets with archer positions and catapults ringed a main citadel, and surrounding it all was the tallest wall the pre-teen had ever seen.
Of course, he hadn't seen any walls in his life besides his backyard fence, so it wasn't really a very good comparison.
The hunting crew filed across the lowered drawbridge into the gaping maw of a gate. The King stayed behind a little longer, motioning generously for Caleb to enter.
So Caleb walked in, and watched as the towering drawbridge slowly shut out the light and closed behind him.