A Tale of Crown and Country

Tavin

The watchtower appeared almost as if out of nowhere. The thick underbrush of the forest blocked his sight and Tavin almost cried from joy. His feet hurt and he was hungry. As soon as the sun had begun to set he feared he would never find it, and that fear had remained with him until he glimpsed the single stone turret of the watchtower.

    Tavin had never seen a watchtower before. Fenwur, of course, had told his friends of one his father had taken him to several years ago. He had done specifically within Tavin's hearing range, and had continued to boast of his father's military prowess and promotions until Tavin sneaked away, his pockets full of rocks.

    It had been difficult to not stop for rocks, though they had been few. Tavin reminded himself of Nasta's words, that if he kept collecting on this journey he'd have no room in his sack for food, and other necessities of the sort.

    As he approached the watchtower Tavin felt the annoying sense of dread mixed with nervosity return. His heart beat faster, his head grew faint, and he had begun to sweat not only from the climb up to the tiny hill upon which the watchtower was situated. He didn't know how this worked. And would the soldiers standing watch even let him in? There was no one around for him to copy, no one to serve as an example. He had maybe enough money for a loaf of bread and to accompany the fruits his mother had packed him. He had filled up his canteen of water at the brook a little while back, so that wasn't a problem, but he hadn't anything to contribute to the watchtower in exchange for lodgings. Tavin wasn't keen on sleeping in the bushes at the base of the hill, though he knew how from the extensive books on the subject in grandfather's study. It would get cold at night despite this being the furthest south Tavin had ever travelled, and he wasn't sure strange smoke would be taken lightly by the soldiers who's job it was to protect the pass from Allriyans who hadn't attempted an invasion in over sixty years. Tavin supposed it was the image they were attempting to keep rather than the necessity of the job.

    "Hey!" someone shouted from the base of the watchtower. "Down there!"

    Tavin jumped with fright and stepped behind the large pine to his right. He stood stiff against the tree, trying to formulate a plan of action, or even the words to explain why he was there.

    "Someone's down there," a muffled voice said, most likely to a colleague. The soldiers had not been watching the north side of the tower so closely, otherwise they would have spotted Tavin a long time ago. No one expected an invasion from the north.

    Tavin took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the tree. He had formulated a response in his mind, and, having practised it several times to himself, had calmed his heart enough to hear any response over his own beat of life.

    "Y-yes," he stuttered. Maintaining a volume enough for the distant soldiers to hear him, he continued from the bottom of the hill, "I've travelled from Brekka. I'm in need of lodgings for the night." Yes, that had gone rather nicely. Other than the minor stuttering, Tavin had gotten his point across.

    "What's your name?" someone asked, a new voice.

    "Tavin. Tavin Guildensrohn."

    "He's just a boy," someone said at regular volume to the speaking soldier. And yet the voices carried over the wind just enough for him to hear it.

    "How old are you?" the questioner shouted at him.

    "Fifteen," he answered. "I'll be sixteen in a few weeks though!"

    This time the voices didn't carry other than bits and bobs of conversation. The two soldiers were joined by a third. Amongst themselves they debated, probably, the mysterious boy known as Tavin Guildensrohn, and whether or not he was a threat to the nation of Reightneir even though he had come from within the country itself.

    "You Reightneirian?" the first soldier asked Tavin, prompting a punch in the arm from his friend. But the second soldier still seemed to wait impatiently for the answer.

    "Seems so," he answered. "Can I come up? It's getting awful dark out here."

    The soldier put a finger prompting Tavin to be patient. The three men spoke for another moment before finally turning to Tavin again. "Come on up, boy," one of them said.

    Tavin grinned. He headed up the hill, arriving just in time for the sun to set over the expansive green forest.

    The watchtower was smaller than he had imagined. From afar it had seemed rather tall, but that was only because of the hill it sat on. The watchtower itself, aside from being made of brick stones piled one on top of the other, was no taller than the wall surrounding Brekka. Tavin guessed at four stories upon counting the slits of windows on one side of the tower. A small camp was set up around the base of the tower. It was comprised of a few small tents for visitors, a wooden stall piled high with vegetables, and a shed marked "private". This particular watchtower, Tavin knew, was more populated than the others, and a common rest stop for travellers to Allriya. Not that many people travelled to Allriya. It was more common to stop in Jayakan rather than their neighbours to the south. But Allriya was Tavin's destination, and so it was only logical he should stop at the southern watchtower.

    The third soldier had walked away by the time Tavin came up on the small camp, but the other two remained firm. The first, having to keep his duty, remained at his post. The other brought Tavin into the camp. For a single coin Tavin was given a small tent at the edge of the camp and a warm meal of stew and bread and a cup of water. He could keep his bread and water for the next day.

    The soldiers were incredibly hospitable. They gave Tavin an old map of Allriya and told him the best way to get to Aldira when he finally told them of his quest. Other than that, and the single blanket he was given, he felt a little estranged from them. They had brought him into their circle by the fire as soldier after soldier told ghost stories to pass the time, but Tavin felt left out of the circle. Either for age or traveller status, Tavin could only look on at the brotherhood that passed between these men. They who had chosen this outpost, to leave their families and serve their country. Who had probably nothing better to do than question travellers from afar. Who had a purpose and a goal and could sleep sound at night knowing exactly what was to pass the next day. These were most likely the last Reightneirians he would see on his journey, and he knew that from here on he would be more and more alienated from people.

    Before falling asleep, a belly full of warm food, Tavin removed his dagger. He placed on the floor next to the small sleeping pad he had been supplied. He pulled the moth-eaten blanket over himself and wrapped himself into a cocoon. Tavin wondered what Nasta was doing right now, how Mother was getting along without her two eldest children to aid her. She had Risterin, of course, but Cathrinta and Freydallia were a handful on the best of days. Tavin felt a tightening in his throat as he vowed not to cry. He had decided on this journey. He had chosen to do this, and would see it through to the end. Besides, he wasn't sure he had enough money to get back to Revdellen now, and it was doubtful that the soldier would allow him to stay beyond the next day.