Castle on the Rock

2000 BC

Æssa collapsed against a broad oak, sweat dripping down his brow. He ran a hand through the damp hair on his head.

" Kae. " He called to the other young man lying on the grass, chest heaving. Kae groaned and sat up. Shuffling over to Æssa, he tossed him the waterskin. Æssa tilted his head back, pouring the sweet river water down his throat. He sighed with relief and jabbed Kae again.

"We did that." He said, gesturing with an arm to the circle of heavy stones that they, with many other boys from different clans, had spent many summers stacking. Kae rolled his dark, distinctly British eyes.

"Why did we do that again?"

Æssa laughed and put on the croaky voice of the village priest. "To honor the old gods, youngling!"

The pair chuckled appreciatively. Abruptly, Kae stood up and wandered over to the closest towering stone. He pulled a blade from his leathers, and bent over the rock, scratching something Æssa couldn't decipher.

"Where'd you get that?"

Without looking over his shoulder from his carving, Kae replied, "Nicked it from the Blacksmith."

"Bádulla'll have your head for that. What are you doing anyway?"

Kae turned around, "making my mark." He threw the blade softly to Æssa, who caught it.

Æssa just shook his head and laughed at his friend's naivety. "Kae, that mark won't last winter, let alone a thousand of them!"

The other boy made an indignant noise, "I'm serious! I've seen it before! Back in my home clan, there are markings that have been there for centuries."

"Well, if you're serious."

Æssa took the blade and knelt where Kae was standing. He took the blade and began scratching his name. Slowly, but surely. After a few minutes, two names were marked on the stone.

'Kae and Æssa'

Kae grinned. "I hope someone remebers us."