"The Servant of Hadenshawl"
"A novella from the "Anno Apocalypsis"series,
by
Joseph Parsons."
Speculative Fiction:
Futurist or Fantasy Romance.
32055 Words.
1.
When the great forest of Halfox emerged in the south, near the Scotts of Hadenshawl. A song from the 5'th era A.P., out of the Highlands.
*
On Halfox's east quatrain stood Cotsud City, and her west was open to the deep of the forest, as well the haunt of the Dead Wood. One chilled morn when the dew was yet frosted 'pon the limbs, there played a lad by name of Donwell, who was about thirteen years of age. Now his game was 'Knight and Foe' and he played there in the Dead Wood because the feeling was moody for his game, and very sinister with old oaks overshadowing like dark and grim reapers. With his bow he ambled about through fallen, dead limbs and fired targets full of missiles till he'd run his quivers out, then he'd collect 'em back and fire them off again, and he did nary miss.
Indeed, at times it seemed to those watching that Domwell's Angelics would not suffer him to let slip a single target spied, targets of which he'd hung from angry trees throughout the Dead Wood. "Fiend!" he cried out, and "Godless wretch!" he shouted at another just as he let him loose a fine missile that stabbed the mock enemy in the throat. With ropes he could move them about if the day was calm, but a nice breeze made them sway today, like invaders on the move and closing in.
*
The breeze came up and carried to Donwell's ear what sounded in the distance as a cry, and he listened to hear what seemed like a girl's voice from down the Maddy Trail which was close in the thick. He moved with a growing chill, for the cry was become a shrieking terror, and it drew louder and distorted in its echoes through the wood. When he reached the trail he could see her from afar. Her pace was broke open and she ran full strides, and for wonder, behind her Donwell could see charging the wargs. It was the red-eyed hounds of Widkar, and they were chasing her down.
Donwell was mystified. "Is it a dream?" he asked. For just a moment he wondered if his game had grown true. It was surreal, yet an arrow came into his hand from his quiver, so he drew, not certain if it were all happening or not. "Fear not, fair damsel," he said dreamily, and his voice was aloud, but a whisper as if to himself. The devil-dogs of Widkar had gained pace and were nearly upon her now. Her scream flowed past him like a wave, and in that next silent moment, steady hand and breath held, he released the arrow.
Straight and true to arch it arose upon the wind of the sky and descended. It whistled past the girl's ear to her start, and struck the lead dog of the pack, toppling him into a turning crash behind her. A backward glance revealed to her the fallen dog ripped apart by hungry halters, but the rest of the pack chased her on. She ran with vigor. The archer she could see now ahead in the distance, drawing once more, firing, and again it startled as it whizzed past her face, too fast for sight. It was frightful how close came his fire, but she daren't slow pace or duck.
Again there was commotion behind her and she knew another warg had gone down to be torn up by the pack. The archer was true, and his aim very sure. She ran the more earnestly, blessing Jesus as she went. Her lungs burned with every heave. Another missile, another dog fell and her lead was now growing a little as she ran on. The archer was closer. He looked short to her eye, but her vision was blurry and stained with tears of fear. He seemed to be firing successively now, one upon another, for the targets were closer and his aim needed less care. Then she was upon him, and to her shock she realized the archer was but a lad. The boy fired two more rapidly, his keen eye not wavering.
