Light Of Loreandril (13 page)

On foot, they approached the buildings slowly, leading Danfur and Hindfel. The farm was homely looking, and well kept. It had a red, tiled roof, painted black beams and whitewashed wattle. Small windows pe
eped
out from under the eves, flooding the cobbled yard with a warm, welcoming glow of firelight.

The grey, dappled horse in the paddock briefly looked at them, pausing only momentarily from his eating, while bleating goats skittishly scampered away from the fence. As the twins came into the small yard, they paused to take a look around, seeing the barn to their left and a winding track down to their right.

“Hello?” called Nechan,
hesitantly
.

“Is anyone here?” Cradon took a step forward and watched as a flustered chicken ran across his path, clucking loudly. Still no one appeared, which Nechan thought very strange. Someone clearly resided here and cared for the animals, and there was also a lit fire inside.

“Hello!” he called again, louder this time.

Above them there was a muffled sound, and creaking floorboards. “Hold you
r
horses! I’ll be with you in a moment!” A loud, deep voice called from the open hayloft of the barn above them, returning Cradon’s shout. It was followed by a large bale of hay that was flung through the open door, landing in front of the two boys
with a dusty thud
. Hindfel whinnied anxiously, tugging on his reins, while Danfur side-stepped and head-butted Nechan’s back for reassurance.

A few moments later, a darkly bearded face with long, scraggy hair peered out from the hayloft. “Ah, sorry, nearly got you then!” He disappeared again, but the twins could hear movement and shuffling from inside the barn.

The stranger quickly reappeared, walking through the large barn door, wiping his dusty hands and sweaty brow. He was a very large man, with broad shoulders, and clearly defined arm muscles. His cheeks were flushed and he was out of breath from heaving bales of hay.

“Sorry! I’m not used to visitors so far out here in the woods. What brings you by?” He smiled at the twins who were standing awkwardly in front of him.  “Where are my manners! Come on in, you’re both soaking. I guess you got caught in that storm.” The owner pointed to the fence. “If you want to tie your horses up to that, they can drink from the trough. I’ll bring some more hay down for them!”

The man effortlessly hauled the first bale of hay over the fence for his own horse and the goats and then disappeared back into the barn to fetch another for Hindfel and Danfur.

  “I am sure you are tired and hungry, so come on in! No need to stand on parade!” he strolled towards the house beckoning them to follow. The twins were a bit surprised by his warm, open manner, but quickly shook any doubts they may have had and followed him inside. The man seemed harmless.

They were met with the warm smell of freshly baked bread, and a rich, meaty stew was bubbling over the fire.

“I’m Tavor, by the way!” He towered over the stew pot, stirring it with a long wooden ladle. After taking a small sip, he added a handful of freshly chopped herbs. “That should do…..I always make far too much, so, you are more than welcome to join me.”

Tavor turned, and gave them another broad smile, showing his large, white teeth. Both boys felt calmed by his warmness and started to relax.

Tavor helped them unpack their saddlebags and hang their wet clothes in front of the fire. He kindly lent them two large shirts to wear while their clothes dried. Their host then showed them to a bench at a hand-carved wooden table, as he began laying place settings for everyone. He cut several large slices of the fresh warm bread and placed them on a terracotta plate in the middle.

“Help yourself, please!” He then went back to the stew pot and began spooning out generous helpings into three wooden bowls.

“Thank you. I mean, really, this is very generous, and unexpected!” Nechan babbled, as Cradon tore off some bread and began dunking it into the stew, pulling back his dangling sleeves.

“Well, as I said, I don’t often get visitors all the way out here. So when I do, I like to make them feel at home!” He took a big mouthful of stew and then continued. “So boys, do you mind me asking, what are you doing out here? You look like Hundlinger boys.”

“Yes!” Cradon replied with his mouth full. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Well, blonde hair, apart from you obviously, and your tall build does give it away. It’s quite a distance from here to the villages, but they are all Hudlinger.” laughed Tavor.

The twins laughed politely, glancing at each other as they continued to tuck in. The stew was perfectly cooked, with rich gravy, tender vegetables, and meat that almost melted in the mouth. It reminded them of their mother’s cooking.

“So, why are you out here?” he probed again.

“Err, well……” Nechan hesitated, unsure how to tackle the question. He could feel his palms starting to sweat nervously.

“Hunting! Just hunting!” Cradon blurted out, taking over from his brother.

Nechan breathed a sigh of relief. Hunting was a better story than nothing. He kicked himself for not thinking of a cover story before coming to the farm. Although Tavor seemed completely harmless, especially stuck out in the middle of nowhere, they still did not know anything about him. In these times, under the Empire’s rule, you had no way of knowing who people really were and whom they were working for. The last thing they needed was for this stranger to alert the authorities as to their whereabouts.

“Well, I doubt you will have much luck at this time of year! Everything is going into hibernation.” Tavor stopped eating, and placed his spoon down on the table. He looked at the boys. For a moment Cradon and Nechan wondered whether he knew they were lying, but then he suddenly broke into another jovial laugh. “Each to their own I guess!”

The boys laughed nervously again, trying not to make their awkwardness obvious. Realising he had pried too much Tavor stood, and offered them more stew, helping himself to another large ladle. Gladly, the boys accepted more, happy not to be cooking over a campfire.

“So, Tavor, you have a well kept farm. Do you live here by yourself?” Nechan asked, hoping to change the topic of conversation.

Tavor slowly left the table, leaning over the fire with his plate-sized, hairy hand resting on the hearth above. His smiling face had changed, as if Nechan had asked the worst question possible. Neither Cradon nor Nechan knew whether to say anything, and felt uncomfortable in the silence. Only a few moments passed but they seemed like hours. Eventually Tavor broke the silence.

“I’m a Brathu
Ü
nder.  Do you know what that means?” his deep voice replied slowly.

“Ummm, its another clan, right?” Nechan asked, unsure what response would follow.

“It’s the outcast clan.” He turned his shaggy head and looked at Nechan with his dark brown eyes. They told a lifetime of sorrow and hardship, flickering with the dancing firelight. He turned his back to look into the flames again. “We were expelled from the Empire after the Great War. Forced into solitude and exile. I can only live in places like this, cut off from the outside world.”

“Well, you’ve certainly made it a lovely place to live!” Cradon felt obliged to try to lighten the sombre mood.

Nechan still felt embarrassed. Barnon had only once told him about the Brathu
Ü
nder clan, many years ago. He could not help but imagine that this could be Cradon and him in a few years time, living in isolation, away from the rest of the world.  At least they would have each other, this man had no one.

“Do you think I like living here? No wife! No children! I may have built this farmstead with my own two hands, but I would give it up in an instant for a family of my own…..” Tavor trailed off, trying to compose himself once more as he began shaking with suppressed anger. He sank back into the chair by the fire, and rubbed his tanned, bearded face hard with his hands. “Forgive me, please. You’re my first company in decades and I treat you like enemies.”

Nechan placed his spoon down quietly on the table, feeling a guilty sympathy. “I can’t even start to comprehend how you must feel. I wouldn’t want to. We didn’t mean to pry.”

Tavor sat completely still for a few more moments, deep in thought. Then, just like that he wiped his face, clapped his hands, and was back to his original, beaming self.

“Well, I hope my outburst does not mean you will not stay! I have spare beds waiting upstairs and I am more than happy to put your horses in my stable for the night.”

His sudden change was strange, but they felt obliged to accept the generous offer. This man seemed genuine enough. Nechan felt safe believing that Tavor had no contact with the outside world, and from his story, he very much doubted this man would hand them over to the Imperial soldiers.

Tavor appeared thrilled at the thought of guests staying. He quickly showed them around his farmhouse and up to the guestroom. He politely took his leave, assuming the twins were exhausted, saying he would take care of the horses for them. The brothers could not argue with Tavor’s kind generosity.

As they slumped onto their soft mattresses, Cradon could automatically sense something was troubling his brother.

“I know that look!” moaned Cradon. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing really. It’s just that…..well… the more I think about it, the more I find this all very peculiar.”

“What? Someone being kind, out of the goodness of his heart?”

“That’s just it. Wouldn’t you think after years of isolation he would be wary of other clansmen? He just seems too friendly and eager to keep us here. For all he knows, we could be about to hand him in to the Empire!”

“Paranoia!” Cradon flicked off his boots, as he yawned widely. “Look, lets make the most of the bed for the night, and if you want, we will leave first thing in the morning!”

 “Fine! But let’s hope I am only being paranoid!”

The decision still sat uneasily with Nechan, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He just prayed they would be fine until morning when they would make a quick exit, collect their hidden treasures and be on their way.

Nechan was woken by a disturbing dream. It quickly faded in the warm, still darkness of the room. The mattress and feather pillow felt soft beneath him and for a moment he forgot where he was. Rolling over, he saw the cold, tiled floor and the strange surroundings, jolting him back to reality. Now wide awake, Nechan sat up and scratching his head, yawned and stretched. Cradon was still sound asleep.

As he wiped the crusty sleep from his eyes, Nechan became aware of scuffling noises outside in the courtyard below.  His first thought was that it was just foxes, but the noises continued and sounded too large for an animal. Intrigued, he clambered out of bed to look out of the small dormer window, his toes curling at the cold touch of the stone floor.

Through the thick-paned glass he could just make out a large shape, which he soon recognised as Tavor. He appeared to be holding a flaming torch in his hand, standing by the doorway of the barn.
There must be something wrong with the horses!
If anything was to happen to Hindfel or Danfur, they would be stuck and it would most likely mean an end to their plans. Quickly, he pulled on his woollen cloak and leather boots.

“Cradon?” he whispered, gently shaking his brother.

“Uhhhh! What?” moaned Cradon sleepily, without moving or opening his eyes.

“I think there is something wrong with the horses. Tavor’s out there. I’m just going to check things out. You coming?”

“What do you think?” Cradon pulled his blanket over his head.

“Fine! I’ll go by myself!”

“Paranoia!” his brother replied, lethargically.

Leaving his lazy brother to fall back to sleep, Nechan clicked open the chunky latch of the heavy, wooden front door. The night air was cold and damp, with faint lines of wispy mist drifting through the courtyard. Feeling a sudden chill, he pulled his cloak tightly around his neck and shivered. There was not a single sound. It was an eerie atmosphere, accentuated by the moonlit shadows that strayed across the cobbles.

Cautiously, he walked round the corner, heading towards the barn. Stopping in his tracks, he pulled himself quickly back into a gloomy shadow. Nechan was confused by what he saw.
Tavor, still holding his torch, was gesticulating as if talking to someone.
But who?
 Nechan strained his ears, holding his breath, and sure enough, he could hear faint whispers carried by the still air. He inched slightly closer, keeping himself hidden against the wall.

The conversation stopped abruptly, mid-sentence. Tavor raised his torch and shone it around the courtyard as if he had heard something. Nechan flattened himself against the farmhouse wall, wishing he could melt into the stone. Eventually satisfied that no one was there, Tavor turned and continued with his discussion. Creeping around the corner further, Nechan positioned himself, hoping to get a glimpse of the visitor through the crack in the barn door. Nechan watched, barely daring to breathe in case he gave himself away.

The dark figure remained hidden in the shadows of the barn, a hood pulled tightly  around his face. Nechan could not make out who or what he was and the whispers were far too quiet for him to hear. The horses were stamping their hooves restlessly, the presence of the stranger making them nervous.

Shivering in the cold, Nechan wished he had taken the time to dress fully. He hugged himself, putting his hands under his armpits to keep them warm as he continued to watch. He was studying Tavor’s body language, hoping this would give something away. Tavor looked nervous. He did not seem his usual, confident self and he was definitely not smiling. It was almost as if this stranger intimidated him.

The tone of the conversation appeared to change, as Tavor became more agitated, starting to raise his voice. “No! I can’t do that!”

Do what?  
thought Nechan. his stomach starting to churn nervously.
Had their cover story been that easy to see through? Was Tavor about to hand in the runaways?
Concerned thoughts began racing through his mind, but Nechan fought the urge to run back to Cradon, grab him and flee. The need to find out more gave him the courage to stay.