The Progenitors

Chapter 4

The calm that was present when Hallen woke up was wonderful. No long-winded noble-men to go and break the silence today, at least. Even if the entire process of saving that man had done nothing positive or practical for his life, he would be more cautious about implementing his morals next time. Just because someone had been attacked by highwaymen didn't mean that they were worth saving.

There would have also been some problems with supporting a second person, he supposed. He hadn't really thought about what he would have done if the situation had turned out differently and Mordecai had stayed. He didn't have enough crops to support more than one person, though water wouldn't have been an issue. Yet another reason that he had made the right choice in getting rid of Mordecai.

The sun outside had risen with a vengeance - making up for the set of cloudy days leading up to his trip to market. Today was a good day to check the snares Hallen set near his cave, as that job didn't require any real effort. Always best to get away doing as little as possible on a hot day - if you expended less energy you were a much harder target, yet another trick he had learned in his 18 years of survival practice.

The snares rarely caught anything - the nearby hunters were much to careful to allow that - but occasionally a rabit or some other source of meat would wander into one. They were set to catch an animal of any size; once before Hallen had managed to catch a deer that fed him for a week, on top of providing him with a hide that sold for more than he usually made in a month off of his mushroom farm. Most of the money that he had saved up to this point came from that deer, driving home the importance of always making sure the snares were set.

You couldn't know what was wandering around at night, so it was always good to be careful.

It was an average day, however. Most of the snares that he had set had been triggered by cautious animals who knew enough of hunters to avoid capture. A few remained untouched, and yet another cluster looked like they were triggered by another hunter. The man probably wanted to make sure that none of the naimals he wanted to catchwere caught by a rival individual - a sentiment that Hallen could understand. Those who were proficient at the traditional method of hunting using bows tended to believe that the use of snares was cheating, and went out of their way to get rid of the traps wherever they found them to discourage competition.

"Excuse me, good sir! I have a question that I would perchance run by you to see if your answer was favorable!" The pleading tones came from a couple of meters to Hallen's left.

Only one person could be that obnoxious in seconds.

"Of all the gods-forsaken people who could've stumbled into one of my traps, it had to be Mordecai - king of the suicidal idiots! Wonderful! Fantastic! Now woudl you mind telling me why you went and triggered a trap in an out-of-the-way area that you could have by no means found by accident?"

"Did you say king? My, that sounds lovely! King of what? It doesn't matter - a king! I've always wanted to be a king, High Lord of Doing Nothing! I still protest that name, you know! A terrible name - if you've got a name then you should make it one to be proud of! That's what my old grandfather used to say, and he knew best if anyone did! Why. he was known as the Lord of the Southern Battle Marches - a splendid name if ever I heard one! Much superior to the High Lord of Doing Nothing, but I suppose you can't change that until you've done something, and that won't be remedied until you have something to do." Hallen growled in frustration and drew his sword.

"Like killing the King of Suicidal Idiots before me?" He advanced toward Mordecai, carefully dodging the remaining snares in the cluster that hadn't triggered.

"Ah. I see. King of the... nevermind that. I will have you know that I come from a very respected family! I'm the heir to House Dule, as you should very well know! A shining example of all a noble should be, I provide a beacon for all which a man should strive for! I'm..."

"Arrogant, delirious, idiotic, and suicidal. Yes, very good qualities for the men of the world - it helps the smart ones like me find easy targets." Hallen continued to advance, this time with truly murderous intentions. Mordecai had wasted enough of his time - even if he was Mordecai Dule, Lord Dule's son, heir to one of the largest families in the area.

He was a numbskull. No one would miss him after all was said and done. In fact, jealous siblings may well seek out Hallen and thank him for decreasing the number of children who received an inheritance; he had heard stories of that happening before.

"Wait just a minute! I'm sure a hardworking, clever young lad like you sees the merit in escorting me around! I have money! Anything you ask for, as long as I make it back alive!" By the end of the plea, Mordecai was cringed up in a ball in the net that had caught him and now dangled him mere feet from Hallen's sword. Mordecai was beyond talking now, and just whimpered as he avoided looking at the blade next to him. With a grunt acknowledging the fact that Mordecai had spoken, Hallen swung with all of his might - slicing clean through his target.

A freed Mordecai fell to the ground with a heavy thud as the newly sliced net fell away from the branch that had been supporting it.

Money was always nice.