SWNOVELS Chapter † 19 - hunt †
Wisps of smoke drift lazily into the sky, a light breeze blowing the hazy ropes gently from the smouldering piles of wood.
The heaped remains of several wooden cabins engulfed by the raging fire, glowing reddish, their wooden planks crisped and seared to charcoal.
Beril’s steps closer to the carnage, face sooty and filthy, hands slightly scorched, small eyes hard and mouth curving maliciously upward.
Slapping his hands against his legs he turns around, surveying the crowd, displeasure written across his face, hatred spreading quickly to his eyes.
The small gathering turns eyes expectantly towards him, ears perking up intent on what he is going to say now.
Beril swings his head, scanning the crowd before him, locking his eyes with each person briefly before continuing his silent observation.
Shuffling restlessly under Beril’s steady gaze, the people standing in the crowd cast their eyes downwards, looking at the ground in a futile attempt to avoid his eyes.
Beril takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and exhales, hand swinging backwards in a wide arc, the movement capturing the eyes of those watching.
‘Now do you understand?!’
The booming voice echoes through the village, rolling down the alleys and pathways unimpeded.
‘Now do you see the danger of these heretics?!’
The crowd shuffles closer as some push forward from behind trying to get a better vantage point.
Beril sneers viciously, eyes raking over the crowd as he swings his finger towards the gathered mass.
‘Do you see?! Do you see, how weak we have become?!’
A soft murmur rises into the air.
‘Who must we blame? Who?’
The crowd looks at one another confused, faces scrunched up in consternation and alarm.
‘I’ll tell you...’
Beril pauses, takes a breath and looks around quickly, leaning slightly forward before saying in a conspiratorially hiss.
‘...The Elders! It is them.’
The crowd mills around wildly, the soft rumbling murmur growing steadily, building into a thundering roar rolling through the air.
Beril smiles contently and rubs his hands together gleefully before lifting his hands into the air, his smile fading quickly as he bellows loudly.
‘Silence!... Silence!’
The rolling wave of voices dies down slowly, expectant eyes,
bright with vigour and emotion, turning towards Beril.
A hush falls over the clearing, all eyes and ears focussed and alert, hearts rapidly beating in chests heaving with excitement.
Beril’s deep voice floats soothingly over the crowd.
‘The time has come. Time to select a new order, a new way of life... a new... beginning!’
‘Who will be the leader? You?!’
The reedy voice spears through the silence, as heads turn towards Beril, nodding in question.
Beril clears his throat gently and shrugs his shoulders.
‘That is up to you, citizens, you are in control.’
Finger stabbing into the air Beril adds quickly, noticing the doubt creeping back into the crowds’ eyes.
‘Before anything else can be done we need to hunt down the perpetrators that committed this heinous act of violence against our beloved village... Hunt them down and put them to justice!’
Beril pauses again, looks around the crowds as he screams loudly.
‘Not the elders’ justice...Our justice! We must take control!’
Yaaahhhhh!
Cheering and whooping the crowd disperses, wildly running between cabins, only pausing to grab spears, arrows, axes, ropes and swords before bundling anxiously up in front of Beril again.
‘First we catch the criminals... then we rid ourselves of the Elders who control us like cattle.’
Beril smiles widely at the crowd, as the surge of bodies head of into the surrounding forest, leaving him alone in the midst of the burned out cabins.
His filthy robes flapping, soft breeze blowing coolly through the morning air, Beril, humming contently, ambles slowly down the grey gravel path.
Leaves rustle lightly on the stiff breeze, tree tops barely discernable through the thick smoke billowing through the forest.
The tinkling sounds of metal, scabbards slapping against legs and arrow filled quivers, float through the dense grey blanket.
A small group of bedraggled villagers creep softly through the underbrush, studying the ground intently nervously glancing time and again into the smoke covered forest, stifled coughs the only sound they make.
A green clothed Protector guides them steadily forward, gesturing silently to the clump of villagers following behind him.
Wordlessly the villagers spread out, moving between the trees in a loose arc, inching forward in nervous anticipation.
Patches of sunlight break through from above, golden rays of light, exposing dappled colours of brown and muddy red cloth, covered in a thin layer of black soot and frayed edges.
The Protector holds his hand up and sinks to the ground on one knee.
The villagers stop walking, intently eyeing the Protector for any signs, fingers nervously twitching at the binds on their swords or the strings of their bows.
One villager inches closer to the Protector, blonde scraggily hair tied back in a small tail, loose strands of charred hair stuck across his sooty black face.
‘Psst...!’ he hisses. ‘Gawayn? What is it?’
The Protector looks up, annoyance flashing in his blue eyes, as the blonde man stops to crouch down next to him.
‘What do you see Gawayn?’
Swallowing back the urge to scream at him, Gawayn looks back at the leaf covered ground.
The blonde man crouches silently next to him, eyeing the ground in fierce concentration, a frown on his young face.
Gawayn looks at the young man, closes his eyes and with a small smile takes him by the shoulder.
‘Dallin!’
The blonde man looks up expectantly, eagerly awaiting Gawayn to continue.
Pointing with one hand at the ground Gawayn continues.
‘When you are tracking you have to look at the signs within the signs...’
Consternation floods Dallin’s face as he struggles to understand.
‘...if you look at the ground here. What do you see?’
Dallin sits quietly for a few moments, scrutinizing the ground intensely.
‘I see a leaf that should not be here. It looks out of place here, amongst the others.’
Biting his lip gently he looks up. Gawayn eyes him surreptitiously and the triumph he felt fades as quickly as it had flared up in his chest.
Seeing the elation fleeing from his eyes, Gawayn says quickly.
‘That’s good. Very good! You spotted the odd thing out. There is only one other thing you need to learn... how to combine that which you know with the environment you find it in.’
Dallin frowns as anger builds in prides place at being made a fool of.
‘What does that mean?’ he says rather sulkily.
‘Let me explain.’
Gawayn adds hastily, not wanting trouble with an upset villager at this moment.
‘You saw the leaf; you knew it does not belong where it is now. But, you did not look at the leaf or the surrounding area as two connecting things.’
Dallin shakes his head, still not making sense out of what Gawayn is saying.
‘Look at the leaf.’
Gawayn pauses as Dallin sinks to his belly next to the leaf, eyes poring over every detail.
‘Do you see how the leaf becomes thinner towards the one side?’
Dallin nods his head.
’It has been flattened by something heavy, most probably a boot. But it is not possible to tell exactly which way the boot was moving, is it?
Dallin shaking his head gently looks back up into Gawayn’s sparkling blue eyes.
‘Now, if you look at the ground surrounding the leaf... you will notice that on the southerly side of the leaf there is a small indentation, where as on the northerly side there is none. What part of your shoe is most likely to leave a mark in the ground?’
Dallin sits quietly as he thinks about it, playing the scenario over in his head, before answering meekly.
‘Your heel?’
‘Correct!’
Excited Gawayn sits straighter, hands motioning wildly in the air between them as he explains.
’The heel comes down first; all the weight is on that part,
thus leaving a small mark. Then, the rest of the foot comes down; as it pushes off the ground the flat part of the foot scuffs the ground.’
Dallin sits quietly watching, mouth open in amazement.
‘So if you look at this leaf and its surrounding area, you can surmise that safely that the person who stepped on this leaf came from... which direction?’
Dallin looks from Gawayn to the leaf and back again. His head nodding jerkily as he plays the explanation over in his mind.
Hesitating momentarily he looks at Gawayn, points his finger to the left and behind, and drops his eyes as he mutters,
‘He came from that way.’
‘Great. So we can assume that he or she is heading in the opposite direction, can we not?’
Dallin lifts his head, eyes beaming happily.
‘Yes we can.’
‘So then where is he headed?’
‘North west. The heel imprint is slightly south and east, not entirely south as you said earlier. But one more question, Gawayn.’
Gawayn smiles contently at Dallin, happy to have taught this youngster something new.
‘How do we know how long ago this mark was made?’
Gawayn’s broad smile widens even further at this chance to teach something else.
Not even bothering to acknowledge the other villagers, restlessly ambling around them, he bends down to his knees and points back at the leaf.
‘Look at this leaf again.’
Dallin drops down closer, nose almost touching the ground.
‘Time can be roughly measured by the amount of moisture still in the leaf and in the surrounding soil.’
Dallin nods his head, listening closely to Gawayn as he explains.
‘The soil stuck to the leaf will dry out quicker than the soil around it. The leaf will loose sap and moisture as soon as it gets plucked, but the frayed ends will dry out quicker than the rest of the leaf.’
Gawayn looks at Dallin to make sure he is still listening closely, while casting a sweeping glance over the surrounding villagers murmuring irritably in the close confines.
‘So to make this lesson as short as possible, before we find ourselves lying dried out somewhere, the frayed ends indicate that the person passed by here approximately half a day ago. Looking at the ground for support you can surmise that it has been anything from last night to early this morning.’
‘But how do you know that?’
Gawayn gets up, legs stiff from kneeling down too long, arching his back.
’That comes with experience. The more you track the more you
learn.’
Dallin gets up slowly, a bright flare of interest spreading across his youthful features.
‘Will you teach me? Please Gawayn! I beg you!’
‘Let us first see to the matter at hand, after that, if you are still interested come see me.’
‘What do you mean if Gawayn? Who are we hunting anyway? Nobody told us anything except that it was the person who burned the village.’
Gawayn stops midway through turning around, a sad look crossing his face.
‘Today we hunt our own... A Protector, an Elder and a lovely younger sister who was just not happy with the way things were in her life.’
Pausing, Gawayn looks Dallin in the eyes and continues heavily.
‘Sad days are these we find ourselves in my young friend. Sad days.’
With these words Gawayn turns around and heads off in the direction indicated. Gloom rapidly swallowing the cheerful moments he had just had.
‘Oh Talli! Why did you have to do this?’ he whispers softly to himself as he pushes past a low hanging branch, Dallin following closely behind.
Audibly mumbling the villagers follow after, wretched and
miserably plodding along, the distance between them and the two in the lead growing quickly.
Dallin follows silently behind Gawayn, mimicking every move and foot step.
Neither Gawayn, caught up in his own mind and mood, nor Dallin, merrily following his idol and savouring every minute spent in his presence, notice the deadening quiet in the forest behind them.
On they push, following tracks and signs further into the forest, rapidly approaching the north western border of the vast forest.
The sunlight fades, the hazy orange turning into a flaming red slash spilling across the sky above the trees, then smoothing into a purple stain spreading from the south.