A Heart So Precious Sample

Chapter Two

VARDAN

The sound of my boots crunching against the round pebbles along the edge of the stream greeted me as I crouched down at its border, refilling my canteen with the crisp water flowing before me. Gazing down at its ever changing surface, I caught a glimpse of my face. Streaked with dirt and sweat, I looked horrendous. Luckily for me there were no ladies amongst our hunting expedition, or I might have found myself making a bad impression.

Staring at my watery reflection, I couldn't help my mind drifting. At the age of eighteen years, I now had to start looking for a bride with whom to share the remainder of my life. I would be lying if I said I wasn't the least bit daunted. For the only eligible ladies of my village were, let's say, less than fair. Or alternatively, way out of my league. Though, if I were being honest to myself, I wasn't the least bit dazzled by any of the ladies of my village, whether they're in my league or not.

" Vardan," my father called from across the clearing, " Hurry it up would you." Glancing up, I saw the impatient look cross my fathers face. Quickly screwing the top of my canteen closed, I stood back up on my feet, jogging over to where my father waited where the clearing met the edge of mountainous forest.

" Sorry father," I murmured as I brushed past him. Nothing else needed to be said. He knew exactly what was keeping my thoughts occupied. It hadn't yet been a fortnight since my father had sat me down and told me of my duty to the village and to our family. To carry on the family name, and marry.

It wasn't a topic I had thought about often, and one that now kept me up at night thinking. I didn't want to be married to an ugly woman. Nor a dull one. Neither did I want a timid, or submissive wife. To me, that was simply another word for boring.

So while this time of year, in which the able men of the village ventured out of the safety of the town limits to hunt wild beasts and replenish the food stores, was typically one I looked forward to, now it was hard to keep my mind in the game. As one of the few young men in the village, this annual hunt was a chance to roughhouse away from the reproachful eyes of our mothers, and display our skill with the varying bows and spears used to hunt the beasts dwelling in the woods just off our borders. However, this year, I couldn't get my head in the game.

After venturing through the mountains for a little over a week, I had caught nothing more than a small fox that served only good enough for that night's meals. Now, as the wind whistled all around me, the smell of pine ever present, I carried on with my fellow men, shedding the worries hindering me. Today was our final day of the hunt before heading back the way we had come. I would make the little time we had left worthwhile.

As I caught up with the other boys my age, immediately starting a round of shoves and hair messing, I could feel the smile returning to my face. This is where I belonged. In the present, not dwelling on future concerns that would do me no good but to lose valuable sleep and energy.

Continuing down the paths bordering the river, we crossed at the next shallow patch, over to the other side of the river. We rarely went this way, as this area was typically more dangerous, inhabited more by bears than the typical boars and wild rams we go for.

As our boots scrunched on the path I looked over my shoulder at Milo, talking in a hushed tone so as to not scare the creatures that may be nearby. "Hej Milo. Any catches?"

Glancing up from where he had been studying a patch of dirt right next to the path, the corner of his lips turned down in a frown. " No, but come look at this. This wasn't left by any of us."

Walking over to the bit of earth that seemed to be giving Milo a headache, I looked down to where he was gesturing. In the mud right off the path there was a very distinct boot print, except it was very clearly not ours. At almost half the size of our own boots, this print could only have been left by a youngling, or a young yeoman, both of them completely out of place.