The Halfblood King: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Corballday, Day 21, Sowing Moon, 8760 Sudean Calendar

Aleron walked along the narrow lane that led to the village from Hobart’s farm, Hobart being Geldun’s father.  It was late afternoon, and Barathol and Geldun walked beside him.  The boys had worked the last two days to get Hobart’s planting done.  Tomorrow they would do the same at the farm of Danel, Barathol’s father.  They had a few coins in their pockets, and being thirsty after a hard day planting, were heading for the inn for a draught.  The summer beer was light enough that the boys could afford one or two pints before evening chores.  Aleron had a few days off from his training to help his friends, so he could afford it as well.

“So you’re leaving next week?”  Geldun asked him as they walked along.  He was still the smallest of the trio, but wiry and strong.  He had just turned fifteen and was developing a chiseled handsomeness that, along with his golden hair and quick tongue, was making him popular with the girls in the village.

“Yes,” Aleron answered, “we leave on the new moon, in just four days.”  Aleron had yet to turn fifteen and though taller than the others, at nearly six feet, he still had his boyish looks.  He wondered if he would ever grow a beard, the wispy moustache he cultivated being the only hair growing upon his face.

“Why are you going again, right before summer?”  Barathol asked, somewhat upset that one of his two best friends was leaving, for the first time in six years.  Barathol was the oldest of the group, as well as the most mature looking, with a full black beard as opposed to Geldun’s blonde fringe and Aleron’s wispy lip growth.  He was nearly as tall as Aleron, and more solidly built than many of the grown men in the village, with unusually dark skin, like the desert dwellers to the east.

“My grandfather thinks it’s important for me to travel and meet new people.”  Aleron answered.  “I’m not real happy about it either.  It means no fishing this summer.”

“Where will you be going? Geldun asked.

“First, we will be visiting the Dwarves.  Hadaras says there are some of my father’s old business associates there that would like to see me.  I’m not sure if they think I might be going into the charcoal business or something.  I’ll be sorry to disappoint them if that’s the case.”  He answered.  “Then we’re supposed to go see the Elves and visit some of grandfather’s old friends there.”

“That should be fun.”  Geldun replied.  “I’ve never heard of anyone getting to visit Elves and Dwarves.  How did old Hadaras get in so good with the Elves anyway?  I’ve heard that they’re not too friendly to outsiders.  Even though the border’s not closed, it might as well be.”

“He says the army sometimes sends troops in to help on the border with the wild men.  He lived up there for years, even after he retired.  I think he liked all the books they have up there.”

“Still making you read every night?”  Barathol asked wryly.

“Without fail,” Aleron replied

.“So what are you planning to do for work?”  Geldun inquired.  “You can’t go on forever helping out, not if you want to have a family or anything.  Are you still thinking of the army?”

“I still haven’t decided between the army and the navy.” He answered.  “I like the woodsman thing enough, you know, like what my father did, but I want to see more of the world before I settle into something like that.  In addition, it seems like my grandfather has been training me for the military for the last six years.  He says I’m free to do whatever I want and he always said I should help the farmers and woodsmen, to get the feel of it.  But, I think he would be disappointed if I didn’t choose to serve the kingdom first.”

They were about to enter the inn when Barathol said, “I’m thinking of doing a stint in the army before I take over the farm.  Ol’ Da won’t be ready to retire for quite a few years yet, and it would be good to salt away some money before I settle down and take a wife.”

“No luck on finding a girl who will have you, eh?”  Geldun teased.

“Watch your tongue pretty boy.”  He replied, cuffing Geldun as they entered the common room.

“I’m just not in any rush.”

“Nor are the ladies,” Aleron quipped, dodging another swipe from Barathol.

The boys took a table in the back corner, still joking as they took their seats.   Lutea, the serving girl approached with a smile.  She was nineteen and had known the trio since they were children, in Barathol and Geldun’s case, their entire lives.  They were friendly, likeable boys, though they had gained a reputation as ones not to be trifled with.

“Three pints of ale please, Lulu,” Geldun called out to her.   They continued their conversation and when she made her way back with three full tankards, he followed with, “Just set those down on the table and set yourself right here on my lap.”

“Save your smooth charms for the little girls Geldun.”  She admonished him after setting the drinks down.  “Remember, I used to wipe your boogers when you were little.”

Geldun looked crestfallen, and Barathol added, “You did have quite a lot of them,” as Aleron nearly spit his beer out stifling a laugh.

“Now look what you almost made me do.”  Aleron complained.  “That would have been a waste of perfectly good ale.  I think some got up my nose.”  He added, sniffing.

As the boys were busy carousing at the inn, Hadaras and Jessamine were getting ready for the trip.  Inventory and packing of supplies and equipment took up the afternoon.  They had decided that Aleron could spend as much time with his friends as possible, since they would be gone for most of the year.  Hadaras had re-shoed the horses that morning, and was now inspecting their gear.   Their travelling clothes consisted of light chain hauberks and boiled leather paneled spangenhelms.  Each would wear a hand and a half sword and long dagger while travelling, and pack a light sword and dagger for wear about town.  He packed the two Chebek horsebows in their cases, and set them with the four quivers of fifty arrows each.  Hadaras preferred the longbow of the elves, but the Chebek bows were more practical on horseback.  Additionally, the horn and sinew construction allowed them to remain strung for days on end.  Were he travelling alone, Hadaras would need none of this weaponry, but he could not reveal his sorcerous abilities to Aleron.  One day, the boy would learn of his true heritage, but the time was not yet right for that.   In the meantime, they would need to be prepared for any eventuality.  Jessamine was wrapping dried meat into bundles, placing them with the flour and oil to await further packing.  “I hope those boys don’t drink too much this evening,” she stated.  “The alcohol is not good for their young brains.”

“I’m sure they will be fine.  The other two still have the evening milking to contend with, so they cannot stay at the inn too long.”  Hadaras stated.

As the evening drew into night, Aleron entered the house.  “Boots outside!”  Jessamine called out as he walked through the door.

“Sometimes I think you can see through walls Jessie.”

“No Aleron, I just know you too well.  Now get those boots off in the mudroom and come get some supper.”

After the meal, Aleron set to helping with the supplies and equipment.  As they inventoried, Hadaras made notes of what he needed to pick up in town the following day.  “So, how are your friends today?”  He asked.

“They are doing well,” Aleron replied.  “We were talking about what we will do next year.”

“And, what exactly did you discuss?”

“Well, Barathol and Geldun are both thinking of joining up in the fall of next year, you know, after they turn sixteen and after the harvest is in.”

Hadaras mulled on the information for a moment, and then said, “That is a little surprising.  What about their farms?”

“They’re thinking that they will do a three year stint to make some money before they settle down on the farm,” Aleron explained.  “Both of their fathers are still young, and they have younger brothers who will be big enough to help next year.”

“That’s a sensible enough plan,” his grandfather agreed.  “Have they decided on the army or the navy yet?”

“Hmmm…they’re kind of waiting for me to decide that, Grandfather.”

“Is that so?  Will you be deciding for them, or with them?”

“With them, Grandfather.”

“You know Aleron…” Hadaras began, “I never wanted you to feel pressured to join just because I was a soldier.  You can be a woodsman, like your father, or a farmer, or a tradesman and I will be proud of you just the same.”

“Then why have you been training me to fight all these years?”  Aleron asked.

“Because, I want you to be able to fend for yourself and you needed to have something to apply yourself to.  I do not have enough work around here for you remain occupied and not become soft and lazy.”

“So, it was only to keep me busy?”

“Yes,” Hadaras replied, but Aleron did not believe him for a moment.

“I still think it might be the best thing for me Grandfather.  I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and I’m not really interested in anything else.  I want to see some of the world, and I know that will not happen if I’m stuck on some farm.”

“You will get to see plenty of it this year.  We will see if you still feel that way next spring.”  Hadaras replied with a wry tone.

Aleron lay awake in his bed that night.  The bit of drowsiness from the ale had long since worn off and though he was tired from the long day planting, he was too excited about the upcoming journey.  A whole year away from the village he had called home for nearly six years.  He imagined returning home next spring, nearly sixteen years old and seasoned world traveler.  He wondered if he would have a beard by that time.  The girls would be impressed then, he thought.  His thoughts drifted to soldiering and sailing. He imagined leading a column of soldiers against evil Kolixtlanis, Goblins and  Wild Men, or sailing the high seas on the deck of a Sudean warship, fighting Thallasian corsairs and exploring strange shores.  With these thoughts, he drifted off to sleep.

Hadaras spoke to Jessamine after Aleron slipped into the land of dreams.  “He is still adamant about the military when he turns sixteen.”

“Were you expecting anything different from the boy you raised,” she replied.  “He is a more accomplished fighter than half the soldiers in the army already, under you tutelage.”

“True enough, my dear, but I’ve also taught him to read and write four languages.  Why not an interest in university instead?”

“That’s simply not exciting for a fifteen year old boy, my love.  He will have plenty of time for that later.”

“I suppose so,” he admitted.  “Time for bed?”

“I suppose so,” she replied, as she sauntered towards the bedroom, hips swaying seductively.

Read Chapter 4 at:                               https://julianbenoit.wordpress.com/2014/02/16/the-halfblood-king-chapter-4/