Heath of The Hearth

Chapter One

The clod of dirt soared through the air with a whistle right into the back of Heath's head.

"Acke!", he yelps as the clod explodes, filling his mousy brown hair with coarse dirt .

"Gottcha! So much for ya great sneaking, Heath!", Jan yells with a wheezing laugh from behind. Jan was the blacksmith's boy, not the one with the Trekker Guild. Jan had been helping his father in the forge since he could walk. The years of hard work had made Jan equal that of grown men even at thirteen. When Jan hurled something it struck with the force of a hammer. This is why Heath felt no shame as he fell to the ground, holding the back of his skull like it was trying to escape.

"You demi-luving ox licker, that hurt like Agospi!", Heath groaned from the forest floor.

Jan steps toward Heath guiltily, crouching, hand reaching out. Jan is suddenly blinded as Heath whips around flinging a handful of loose dirt in his face.

"Sneak attack!", Heath yells triumphantly rolling away from Jan. Scraping another handful of dirt, he leaps to his feet, circling Jan, as the other boy tries to wipe the dirt from his eyes.

"Ya ram fecker! That was a cheap shot!", Jan exclaims, still wiping at his eyes.

"And hitting me in the back of the head ain't.", Heath retorts.

"Not my fault ya don't mind ya arse," Jan counters.

Then from above they both hear a young feminine voice callout, " Glad you feel that way Jan!"

Both the boys jerk their heads up just in time to see the postman's daughter Mila standing on a tree's out stretched branch, dumping two dirt-filled sacks. Dirt pours over the two boys as they begin to cough and sputter trying to get the dirt from their mouths.

The boys writhing on the ground raking at their tongues, Mila climbs down and laughs, " That was the best one yet! I got both of you! I believe this is the portion of the tale where you concede and exclaim my great victory."

" Ya a worse cheat then Heath, Mila. We said no climbing trees.", Jan whines.

" You said no climbing, I never agreed.", Mila chimes mirthfully.

" Yeah wel-," Heath begins to speak when the voice of his mother rings through the quickly cooling evening air.

"Heath Brim! Get your rear home! And you better not be filthy again or you'll get it!".

"Dem it", Heath sighs surveying his dirt caked body, " I'mma get it for sure."

"For sure.", Jan agrees.

"It's been nice knowing you Heath.", Mila says with mock sorrow.

"Both of ya can -," Heath begins to retort when his mother's voice interrupts him again.

"NOW HEATH!".

"Crap, I'll see ya later.", Heath calls over his shoulder as runs toward home, scraping at his dirt stained clothes.

He busted through the treeline, waving to the mill workers as he passed, them calling out," Better hurry!","Good luck!", "Run Heath!".

Heath dodged around stumps that had yet to be uprooted and quickly made his way through what had been already clearcut. Reaching town he passed his father's woodshop, the outermost building of town besides the lumber mill. The lights were off and he could see the closed sign on the door. His father beat him home, great that meant not only would he get a tongue lashing from his mother, but a real lashing from his father. Heath closed the twenty odd yards between the woodshop and his home, although made of wood the house was far from simple. Heath's father was one of the greatest woodworkers in all of the Northern Expanse. He had painstakingly made their home beautiful, the outer walls carved with reliefs of great forests, the window seals depicting ships braving waves, and on the door was a heartwarming carving of a family gathered around a hearth. Many have begged his father to replicate the work on their homes, but every time his father would turn them away. No matter the coin they offered. His father took great pride in his work and would not diminish its beauty by replicating it.