Berach's Jewel

Chapter Two

Daveth had been placed in the hearing-line leading to the Jalde's main chamber, where feasts and court was held, and where guests were entertained during the day for the hundert they ruled over. He gazed up at the stone ceiling of the hallway, which was covered in various coloured furs as hunting trophies and woven, fabric pictures of traditional stories of men overcoming evil.

He slowly shuffled to the front as the other people were sent inside. His mind raced to think how he could be in trouble, to mentally prepare his words before it was his turn. He stood in line, his face slightly creasing as he tried to think of something. Maybe everything was fine, and the Jalde wanted to reward him for his hard work on the fields?

The fields! He hadn't worked on the Jalde's fields for over a moon's length, he hadn't been paying his dues to the rent. He was the head of the family, therefore his responsibility.

"You've worked out what you're to see the Jalde for, have you?" asked one of the men with a green sash across his chest and a short sword buckled to his side.

Daveth carried on looking in front of him, grunting by way of reply. If it was truly the case that he had not worked on the Jalde's fields in the past month, he never wanted to seem weaker than he was.

From inside the chamber he heard a voice bellow, "DAVETH DAWSSON."

The guard opposite him motioned his head to the side, telling him to enter. He peered around the corner as he walked in, trampling loose rushes onto the roughly woven, old, brown rush mats of the high-house. Today, the room was empty of decoration, letting people be examined by their appearance without distraction or comparison.

Opposite him, across at the other end of the room, was a chair that the Jalde would sit in when hearing his subjects.

He took five steps forward, his footsteps slightly crunching the reeds underneath, unsure whether to carry on; the Jalde was not there. Maybe it was all a mistake and the guards would direct him out of the high-house?

As he heard a clatter behind him, he turned and saw that the guards at the only exit of the room had left, closing the doors behind them, leaving Daveth alone in the stone-walled room. Faded strips of cloth wavered slightly in the corner beside the oak chair. Footsteps echoed through the hall, but he couldn't work out which direction they were coming from. The room had a high ceiling, bouncing sound from all directions everywhere.

As the footsteps became louder, the curtains rustled and parted, the Jalde entering the room opposite Daveth, a scribe and guard following behind him. The scribe crossed over to the other side where a large tree stump by a smaller one was set up in the corner of the room, hidden so that they could see everything and not be a distraction to the hearing. The guard took his place beside the carved chair.

The Jalde was well-built, from years of battle training that Jaldes' sons received when they were children, compared to Daveth's portly figure. Over his right shoulder he had a green-lined wolf pelt, fastened with an antler tine pin, nearly covering his breastplate completely. He also wore loose trousers, with foot lacings coming up to his mid shin. He sat down in the chair, placing his arms on the rests. He lifted his arm, then placed it back, signalling for the scribe to begin writing, while he questioned Daveth.

"What is your name?"

"Daveth Dawsson."

"Well Daveth," he paused, "I asked you to come here because according to my records...." pausing, he got up and leafed through a worn, old, heavy book, running his finger down the columns until he found the right entry, "...neither you nor Aldred have worked in my field for the month of September, "turning the page, he continued, "However, Kjell has helped in carding wool from sheep shearing."

He stared at the man standing in front of him, scruffy and mucky from harvesting in the fields. Daveth stared at his feet until he could bear the silence no longer.

"Jalde, the coldness came earlier than expected, we had to look after our own crop so that we can live through the winter and spring." Daveth's hollow voice echoed around the big room.

Jalde leaned back in his chair, bringing his thoughts together. "Such a selfish man, wanting to look after his own, before his community. By working on my fields, you and your children are protected from other armies. I let you shelter inside the high house when they come, and this is how you repay me? By excusing yourself so you can live?"

His voice grew louder, but he didn't shout. Most of the workers didn't care for him, as long as he could still protect them from other Jaldes, and why would they? He was rich; he didn't have to work like they did in the fields to survive.

"Come forward, Daveth Dawsson. I will reason with you, as many people have found it hard to look after their plants recently." The man did as he was bid, slowly shuffling to a few foot-lengths in front of his lord. "Work the normal amount of time this month," The man began to smile. "But only if you also find something of great value for me." The Jalde's smile faded, turning into a grim line of determination.

"You may go."

Daveth began to leave, thoughts racing in his mind as to how he could repay his debts, when the Jalde spoke again. He turned round to face him

"Dawsson, if you do not bring me this, I will enslave you, Aldred, and Kjell." He smiled, knowing that Daveth could only agree.

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Dun dun dun!! I have rehearsals on at uni, so just as well I've pre-written all the chapters! :) Have a great weekend and if you liked the chapter, don't forget to vote, comment and add it to your library so you know when it's updated next Friday (13/05/16)! I'll still be on Wattpad as I will have finished universityfor the year on May 16th!