Child of thorns

Falcor- Chapter Six

A cold breeze swept through my armour as we approached the cabin where the child had previously slipped from our grasp. The cobblestone underfoot echoed the horses’ movement throughout the quiet forest as a flock of birds flew overhead.

I had known better than to ask Sylvo about the boy’s background. Growing up I had learned fast to obey and to hold my tongue rather it be cut from my mouth. My swords master advised me to “keep quiet and be brave”. Those words got me through childhood. Although he was cold and malicious, he was the closest thing I had to a father.

The long trek across the countryside had made my thighs burn a deep red. We had been travelling for three days stopping only to water our horses and sleep for the night. The roads were treacherous to those who did not know how to travel them. We narrowly avoided being spotted by a patrol of Queen Felicia’s troops; had it been day we would have been seen.

Our group consisted of Alderan, Bradyn, Jorin and I. Adleran and Bradyn proved to be terrible travel companions and I constantly had to stop my horse simply to shout at them. They had been fighting over some wench which they both insisted they had bedded first. Jorin had distanced himself from the group and would usually travel far ahead of us. The brothers were not fond of him; I cannot say I was too fond of him either.

My legs ached and threatened to buckle as I dismounted from my horse. Jorin had already dismounted and was coming out of the cabin as we approached. The brothers followed closely behind.

“He did not return to the cabin and it does not look as though anyone is living there now,” said Jorin.

“How do you know that?” questioned Alderan.

“The ashes are cold, the house is empty and there is a deer in the bedroom.”

We all looked at the cabin to find a deer standing in the doorway. Bradyn notched an arrow and aimed at the animal. The movement frightened the animal as it bounded towards the woods.

Bradyn lowered the bow and placed the arrow back into his quiver.

“A fine meal run away on us,” grumbled Bradyn.

We searched the cabin thoroughly hoping to find any clues which would lead us to the boy. The light of the day shone off various mirrors in the cabin illuminating the dark corners of the rooms. A cold, lifeless feeling stuck to the house like death and I couldn’t help think that I had caused it to be this way.

After concluding that we would find nothing at the cabin, we decided to go to the river where the boy had nearly drowned. The forest was sweltering and full of life. Sun shone through the gaps in the trees whilst rain droplets crashed to earth as we moved through the forest. Sounds of frogs, crickets, birds and water surrounded us.

When we arrived at the river I instantly noticed how low the river was. Last time we had been here the heavy rainfall had made the river near impossible to cross; now we could easily wade waist high through it. After walking downriver Bradyn was able to pick up the trail the child and his mysterious partner in black had left behind.

“It has been a long time since I have done this,” confessed Bradyn, “last time I did this I was tracking my brother through the streets of Jowlardon.”

He began pacing back and forth whilst telling his story, picking up leaves and inspecting the trees for any sign of a disturbance. In truth it seemed more like a show and I was beginning to suspect he did not know what he was doing.

“My brother left a nasty trail behind him, an overturned stall, urns smashed into pieces or a reveller with a bloody nose; a good lot easier to track him than this boy. His trail was easy to follow although the wine sack I had on me did not make it simple. I traced him to a brothel in the southern part of the city passed out in the gutter covered in his own vomit. How old were we Alderan?”