Berach's Jewel

Chapter Five

As the sun began to climb in the sky, Daveth kicked over his old fire from the night before and the sleeping place he'd used for the previous two nights. Before mounting, he checked that the egg-shaped crystal was safe inside its bag, before placing it deep into his saddlebag. He heaved himself onto the horse; it was just slightly too tall for him to get on easily. He kicked the horse on, tightening the saddle straps as the horse walked, and then nudged it to a gallop down the hill towards his home. He breathed a sigh relief that now he could pay his debts, and that he wasn't discovered at Jalde Dunstan's high-house.

The hours passed as he galloped through the heathland, the rhythmic brushing of heather against the bay's legs, occasionally splashing through small rivers and passing smaller villages that were less influenced by a Jalde, with only a couple of fields. Slowly, the landscape became more and more familiar to him, until he could see the wooden huts and fields of the Jalde. He could see two figures, waiting outside. Aldred and Kjell.

Breathlessly he shouted, "I have to take it to the Jalde, I'll be back soon," and rode on towards the high-house. Reining in his horse, he dismounted with the sound of his heavy boots hitting the ground. Walking to the door and shielding his eyes from the low afternoon sun, he spoke to the guards, "I wish to see the Jalde."

Uncrossing their spears over the entrance, they let him in. Another guard guided him to the line where other people were waiting to see their Lord for various reasons. He had to wait for an unbearably long time before he was allowed in. He closed his eyes in exhaustion, from the worrying of being found out by anyone. The sooner the stone was out of his hands, the sooner he could just go out to the village and become once again the simple bean farmer he always had been.

It was his turn again in the empty room.

He strode into the room confidently, the Jalde present in the room this time. He flicked his hand up like in their first meeting to signal the scribe to stop. Daveth stood there, awaiting the Jalde to speak.

He leant back in his chair, cupping his chin thoughtfully. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Farmer Dawsson?"

Unclipping the small pouch from his black leather belt as he walked forward, he passed it to the Jalde. "Is this payment enough for you?" he replied gruffly.

The Jalde waved the scribe and his guard out of the room, and waited a few moments for them to leave. The door clattered as they both left, leaving the Jalde and Daveth alone in the hall together, silent save for the faint sounds from outside.

He untied the knot to the pouch and after pulling the strings apart on the drawstring bag, reached in and pulled out the clear, rich, orange stone, which was deceptively light to the touch as Frode held the orb in his hand. It glowed in the sunlight as he held it higher, showing no imperfections.

"Wymond, you both may enter again," he said to his guard outside, placing the piece of amber back into its pouch and then tucked it into the fold of his fur cloak before the two men entered again. He waited until the scribe sat at the hidden corner to record what he was to say next.

Holding his hand to signal the scribe to start, he began "I accept your payment, Daveth Dawsson in exchange for your freedom. However I require you to be marked so that you can be easily identified if I ever need to talk to you again about this payment." Frode did not trust the anyone that came to riches that quickly - given the short time frame he had given Daveth to find the money. But if the piece of amber was stolen and unclaimed, then he would claim it as his own.

Daveth often knew of people that were marked for various reasons, not all of them good. For example, he knew Wymond had a circle above two crossed lines over his shoulder blades - to show that he was a guard that had left his duties. Most of the time you could choose where to have your mark. He began to undo the lacing over the lower leg of his trousers.

"No." He was stopped by the Jalde. "I want it on your arm, it will be easier to see, but you can still hide it if you wish."

Daveth tied his leg wrappings again and walked nearer to the Jalde. Rolling up his right sleeve, he then held his arm out to him. Wymond stepped forward and unsheathed a small dagger hanging from his hip. With his left hand, he gripped Daveth's arm firmly, so he could not flinch away. He pressed the dagger to his own hand first, to check the sharpness of the blade. Satisfied, he quickly and lightly ran the dagger three times, on the inside edge of Daveth's arm, creating three short lines of blood seeping through the cut. After he had finished, Wymond wrapped the dagger in an old cloth to wipe it of blood and sheathed it again. Daveth quickly unrolled his sleeve back down, and holding his arm stiffly while gritting his teeth, he left.

When he returned to his house, he could only find Kjell, who was cleaning the outside area after her cooking the night before. He helped her to lift the heavy iron pot inside, before it got rained on. They set it down together

"Aldred at the stables, looking after our horse, after you left it outside the high-house," she began to say, "Are you alright, father? You've got blood on your sleeve." She began to pull up his sleeve, softly, but enough to see the three line, shallow enough to have already clotted.

Daveth roughly pulled away his arm away from his daughter, eyes narrowed at her. "Yes, Jalde Frode marked me. So what? It is a small price to pay for what we have now."

She drew her shoulders up, hunching her back slightly away from him. "What's that?"

"Our freedom, of course!"

Angrily she replied, throwing her arms up in the air, "Why would I know? Nobody tells me anything, I'm not in control! I just hope you did nothing stupid to pay the Jalde back!"

"I did no such thing, Kjell!" He thundered, suddenly turning round and walking out the house, slamming the door behind him.

Instantly she knew she had hit a nerve. But he had already left, leaving her with no chance to apologize for her rash words. Her knees gave way, and she crumpled to the floor as she sobbed herself to sleep.

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