Son of Soron (13 page)

Next, he went through the battle, retracing his footsteps and moves. He had scored blows against both opponents but none had been fatal. Against two more-skilled warriors, he would need to have more accurate strikes to vital areas of the body. A man will fight through a sliced thigh but a sliced groin is another story. Overall he had to be happy he had survived his first real combat without injury. He also had to concede that luck and poor opponents were the main causes of victory. Nathan would not make the same mistakes again.

Chapter twenty

WHEN NATHAN AWOKE, the sun had not yet begun to show itself over the eastern horizon, but it was fast coming and the dreary pre-dawn light was enough to see the creek. Stripping down, Nathan tiptoed his way into the cold water. Crisp and invigorating, the water quickly removed any mental fog. Nathan was now wide awake. He wasted little time cleaning himself; with a final dunk of his head into the water, he flipped his head back to remove some of the excess water from his hair.

After exiting the water Nathan did some light stretching while stark naked, mostly to remove the water but also to insure he didn’t have any tight muscles from the long walk or the brief yet intense action of the previous night’s fight. Dry and feeling the blood flowing nicely from the stretches, he donned his second set of clothing. It felt good to return to town wearing his new clothes. If he was being honest, he would to confess that he wanted Ava to see him at his best. As he finished dressing, the sun finally started to push its way into the horizon. The gentle first rays of morning felt good on his face. Able to clearly see the path ahead now, he began the last leg of the journey home.

It was a bright and clear sunny morning as Nathan walked up the road and into the village. He could see signs of rebuilding on a few of the homes and buildings but for the most part there was still a lot of damage from the attack. As Nathan approached his own family’s house, he was surprised by signs of work.

Someone had started replacing the roof timbers. Nathan did not know what to think. Why would anyone squat in a damaged house when there were several empty houses? Many had been abandoned or left empty when the families living in them died during the attack. As he pondered this he carefully walked up to the building, hand resting on the handle of one of his daggers just in case some squatter wanted trouble over him retaking his family’s home.

As Nathan entered the front entrance, still missing a door, he looked around. The room was clean and tidy; someone had done a lot of work here. As he looked for evidence of the mysterious and industrious guest, he heard a voice from above.

“Well, are you going to just stand there, or are you going to pass me that timber leaning against the wall?” spoke out a mysterious voice.

A slender blonde-haired man with delicate facial features sat on one of the main support beams for the roof, notching in a side beam. They looked to be middle aged and in good health, not someone he would assume to be a squatter. The friendly tone of his voice made Nathan relax the grip on his dagger. Nathan grabbed the timber from the wall and handled it up to the stranger.

“What is it that you are doing here?"  Nathan asked as he watched the man put the timber into place.

“I am fixing the roof. What does it look like?” said the stranger with a smile.

Nathan chuckled, if nothing else this man had a sense of humor. “I can see that, but why are you fixing my roof?”

The stranger laughed. “Well, I hear it tends to rain around these parts. A roof will keep the water out of the house."

Nathan was beginning to think this man was a little crazy. “Okay, that make sense, but I am still not sure why YOU are doing it.” The man stopped working on the roof for a moment and studied Nathan. “You surely look like your father but you have your mother’s eyes. I am Verin Albet and I am your uncle.”

Nathan was surprised to hear this. Neither of his parents ever spoke much about their pasts. Nor had they ever mentioned any family. But it was rather possible that this Verin could be his mother’s brother. His blonde hair and blue eyes were a match and the delicate facial features very much resembled his mother. It struck Nathan that this was the second time he had learned a family name under weird circumstances. This was the first time hearing his mother’s maiden name.

Taking a second look at the man, he compared his memory of her to the face of the man in the roof. He could only wonder why he hadn’t noticed it earlier. This man Verin was obviously his mother’s brother. “You will have to forgive me; I did not know I had an uncle.”

This did not surprise Verin. Velaina and Soron had wanted to live a simple life together and had come to this small village far away from the intrigue of either of their native homes. “Your parents had good reason to keep their pasts quiet. I am sure as you got older they would have filled you in on who you are and why were so secretive.” Verin paused for a moment then sighed. “Let me come down. We will eat a bit of an early lunch, then I will tell you all about Velaina Stoneblood.”

Verin swung down so he was hanging head down from the timber. Then with a twist, he pulled his feet back so he would drop to the floor, did a half summersault and deftly landed on his feet. Verin pulled out some bread and elderberry jam from one of the newly restocked pantry shelves while Nathan grabbed some dried meats from his supplies. They ate in silence, both wanting a few moments to collect their thoughts before getting into the story of Nathan’s mother.

Finishing his meal, Verin told Nathan about his mother Velaina Stoneblood, or Velaina Albet as she had been before marrying Soron Stoneblood. Verin began his story by giving him some basic family background. Velaina Albet was the third of five children of then ruler King Vellin Albet of the kingdom of Balta. Velaina’s mother Muriel came from a family of healers and it was said that King Verbon met her after a great battle in which he had been wounded; Muriel had helped heal the king who became infatuated with her.

As a young girl, Velaina learned the healing arts from her mother. When she was of a marrying age, King Vellin sent her to live in the courts of Venecia to be properly courted by nobles from the city and surrounding lands. Velaina, while a beautiful young woman, was also a practical one. Despite being of noble birth, she enjoyed going out and picking herbs and plants for making medicine. It was on one of her journeys into the countryside of Venecia where she first met Soron.

She was walking her horse through the forest when she came upon a small meadow filled with wildflowers. She stopped, dismounted and was gathering flowers when a small group of men entered the meadow.

Velaina greeted the men with confidence. A smart woman, she noted the high quality clothing of the men and way they were following a deer path through the forest. Nobles out on a hunt, she quickly surmised. The men seeing how beautiful she was gave up the search for deer and came up to Velaina. While the men were dressed like nobles, Velaina had warning signs going off in her head.

She wanted to step back and create some distance herself and the approaching men but could not see a way of doing so without appearing rude. So far, the men were acting nice and were friendly as they talked to her about the forest and any signs of deer she may have noticed. One of them, a shifty-eyed scarecrow looking fellow, smiled and commented about the fine form of her horse.  His eyes however were not fixed on the horse. She grew nervous.  When he asked where her companions were, she recognized danger and her fear showed in her eyes.  She had read his emotions changing and they were ugly.

While she spoke, one of the men came to look at her horse. Suddenly the man was right beside her with his hands firmly around her horse’s reins. The shifty eyed man who had smiled while talking to her was now smirking. A rather sinister tone to his voice had Velaina preparing to jerk away and flee. ”Relax princess, you are not going anywhere.” 

Velaina was getting ready to make a run into the forest when a voice responded from behind her, “Why would she be going anywhere? It is a beautiful day and there are still many flowers to be picked.”

…

Verin stopped his story to take a sip of elderberry wine.

Nathan had been hanging on every word. His impatience at the break in the story telling showed on his face. Nathan was just picturing his young and beautiful mother on a horse surrounded by hunters on foot when Verin upped the suspense with silence. “That is a terrible place to take a break. Please keep telling the story,” spoke Nathan in protest of the dramatic pause.

Verin gave a small chuckle before quickly continuing with the retelling of the romantic meeting of his sister with the handsome stranger who would rescue her. Watching the face of his nephew, he saw reflections of his beloved sister Velaina.  Finding her son was a blessing of the gods.

Verin began artfully retelling how the men quickly turned to see who joined them in the meadow.

…

Velaina had never seen four faces turn so white and fearful so fast before; the man behind her terrified these men. They began backing away, the one who had been holding on to the reins hastily let go to rejoin his companions as they continued to back away from her.

The sinister sounding one now took a contrite and fearful tone as he mumbled, “You’re absolutely right. But picking flowers won’t catch us that deer, so we will be leaving now.” The men almost tripped over each other as they turned and ran into the forest.

Velaina watched with amazement as the men ran off. Finally she turned to see who had inspired such fear. Velaina was looking at an incredibly tall and strong looking stranger with long dark hair and a clean-shaven face.

Besides his great size, Velaina could only wonder what terrified the men so much. The big man did not appear to have a weapon on him. “They sure ran off fast. You must be one dangerous man to scare them so.”

The giant man smiled, “Maybe to scoundrels like them, a lady such as yourself has nothing to fear from me. Those spineless cretins are sons of noblemen who flaunt the law as if they are above it. There used to be ten in their little group of rapist bastards."

Velaina was shocked to hear that she had so narrowly avoided a dreadful outcome, but she kept her calm. This tall dark stranger made her feel safe. She smiled. “Used to be ten?” she quizzed.

The big man shrugged his shoulders. “Things happen.”

She could imagine what things he had done and it explained the fear the men had shown at his arrival. She suspected his arrival was no more a coincidence than the deer hunter accidently finding her in the meadow. This big man had been stalking her stalkers. Before she could even thank him, he gave her a brief farewell telling her she would have no more problems on her journey today and disappeared back into the forest. She regretted that he had not given her his name.  He was foreign. He was intriguing.  And she suspected he was the sort she had been warned to stay away from.

Later that week, she sat at a royal dinner when in walked in her mysterious and handsome rescuer. He was sitting at a table of visiting emissaries from around the world. Wanting to find out more about the man before he had the chance to disappear again, she walked over to his table and smiled “You turn up in the most interesting places, sir. Are you going to at least introduce yourself tonight? “

The tall northerner smiled. “My name is Soron Stoneblood.”

…

Verin stopped his story for a moment. “Your mother told me all about how she met your father when she came home to announce she was would marry a northerner and be staying in Venecia. Your mother was always a strong and independent woman. Where others feared your father for his sheer size and ferociousness in battle, your mother saw a shy loving man with no love for killing. At times it was hard to tell who courted whom. Your mother would show up at functions where Soron was acting as an emissary for the northern tribes and would wait outside for him to walk her home.

Nathan was enthralled by the story of his parents meeting. Excited to learn more, he peppered Verin with more questions. “What about my father? What can you tell me about him?”

Verin gave it some thought before beginning “Soron Stoneblood, son of Theron Stoneblood, Theron is the leader of the northern tribes a fierce collection of warriors and hunters. Soron and most of the northerners, or Pellians, are decedents of giants. Although very few giants still live in the north their blood lines run strong.  Many of you northern blooded men are big and strong beyond comparison. “

Nathan was surprised, so there actually was something to the children’s stories of Giants and other mysterious creatures roaming the north. Being the descendent of a giant was a shocking yet very intriguing idea he thought to himself as Verin continued his explanation of the northern people.

“The northern tribes are often nomadic moving from hunting area to hunting area. Others are raiders living off the wealth they accumulate attacking other northern village and tribes. Along the northeastern coast, there are seamen who raid along the entire continents eastern shore line.  Theron Stoneblood was a fierce warrior in his younger days, defeating all those who would try invading Stoneblood lands. Your father’s tribes control the northern slopes of the Applomean Mountains and the valleys below. They are rich with minerals and the produce some of the best steel known to man.”

Nathan knew a little about this, his father may have avoided telling him about his past but he had passed along his knowledge of metal work. Nathan knew all about northern steel and Verin’s explanation about it was not necessary but he said nothing, glad to just hear any talk of his father.

“Northern steel is harder and less brittle than any other steel produced today. Looking at your daggers, I can see your father taught you some of the Stoneblood blacksmith secrets. Stoneblood weapons are still even harder than northern steel and are some of the finest weapons ever produced. When your father was a young man, barely older than yourself, his father sent him to learn how to forge the steel and to help protect the mines. Such valuable steel producing mines were often the target of other clans trying to steal any weapons or minerals they could. Your father had countless battles before his sixteenth birthday. “