Serada sighed and sipped his ale.
Macelan spent the afternoon at the beach with Serada planning a trip upriver to Greenhills to visit his cousin.
"It's the perfect thing for you. A refreshing hike in the open air. Exercise, a change of scenery and you will have a completely new outlook. We'll just pop in on Bonoma; he is usually casual about such things. Maybe he will have a line on work."
"You dream too much."
"What will a couple of days hurt?"
"Where do we get enough food for the trip? We can't walk it in one day." Serada was throwing rocks into the surf. With each rock, he sent a thought and a prayer and hoped the undertow would take his messages to his father.
"Fasting is good for you," said Macelan. "You should try it more often."
"Be serious. Solly won't give us anything other than ale and only if we drink it there. I will not go if I am to starve. I can do that in the comfort of my own home. At least I will know where I am to be buried." Serada's thoughts flew out to his father again. He remembered the hours he stood on the beach waiting for his father to come home. His mother and uncle tried to coax him back in, but he resisted. His father would come home. He had promised Serada and a six year old believed that promise.
"Do you think I plan to starve? I will find enough food for the trip. Do not worry. Hey, is the sun going down? It can't be that late."
"Only clouds. Looks like it will rain on us tomorrow."
"I like the rain. I feel at peace and the rain washes everything clean."
"You can have the rain; I will not go if it rains."
"I gather that you are not interested in going in the first place. Am I right?"
"I need to work," said Serada. "I cannot face my friends and family anymore."
"You face me. Am I not your friend?"
"But you are not working either. I don't feel that you look down at me because I cannot find work. My family thinks there is something wrong with me. I'm beginning to think so too."
"Rubbish. You are as sound as I am," said Macelan.
"And you think that does not worry me?"
"Do you think your lack of employment has anything to do with me?"
"I did not say that."
"No," said Macelan. "But you have been hearing it. Haven't you?"
"Yes," he admitted. "But I deny it."
"And now you have been thinking about it and perhaps they are right. That's what you are thinking, is it not?"
"I do not know. I have not worked it out yet. But I do know that going to Greenhills will not get us a place on the fishing boats."
"Did you ever think about looking for work in Greenhills?"
"No. I like the sea. I want to work on the sea as my father did."
"You are hopeless."
"Me? I am the one who wants to work."
"And I do not?" asked Macelan.
"You don't appear to be making much of an effort. If I didn't come and get you every morning you would sit on the beach all day."
"It's very nice. I like the sea, too."
"But it doesn't pay anything unless we're on the fishing boats!" He was silent for a moment and his eyes took on a faraway look. "Don't you ever think about settling down and getting married?"
"To whom?"
"Look who's hopeless. To anyone. Doesn't it appeal to you? Whatever happened to Kate? I know she married Cynal, but you were so close."
"She saw no future with me."
"Is that surprising?"
"After the trip we'll find work. I promise."
"All right. I will go to Greenhills but only for a couple of days. Then I must return here and find work."
"Let's leave before light tomorrow. I'll go back to Solly's and see if I can find anything to take with us."
"Don't take it all in liquids and don't drink it all if you do."
"Your advice is rotten, Serada."
"Good night, fool."
"We're two of a kind."
The next morning the dawn found them on the far side of the river from Dale and Serada had to admit Macelan had been correct. Already a great weight seemed to be dropping from his mind and he turned to speak to Macelan. He had been silent since their departure. Beyond Macelan, across the river he caught a glimpse of red. He grabbed Macelan, pointing to the river. From the high hill they were on, they could see the movement of a large group of foot soldiers.
"Soldiers!" said Serada.
"Yes," said Macelan. "I heard far too much about them at Solly's last night. Seems the High King is requesting more tribute and also conscripting new members for the Calendian army."
"Really? Luck is with us. Do you think they can see us from here?
"No. But we best not linger," said Macelan. "I'm sure my father would volunteer my services if given a chance."
"And my service as well. But I think he'd be more worried about the tribute wouldn't he?"
"Ah, you know my father so well. Let's get going."
"Some young boys will be taken," said Serada. "The fishing boats are already at sea. There will be no one to protect them."
"It's not our worry now. We can't fight soldiers, nor could we return in time to warn them without being caught ourselves. We best be wary on our way to Greenhills. There may be more of them."
The hill sloped down into a grassy meadow and they walked several hours without speaking and enjoyed the fresh air and the solitude they gained from walking on the wrong side of the river. The grass was long and there was little sign that anyone else passed this way. Macelan didn't like roads and had suggested their current path from previous experience. They were making for a grove near the base of the hills that led to the highlands to the east. There were seldom travelers in that region and the privacy held a strong desire for Macelan. Serada did not care but it was Macelan's journey and Macelan could choose the destinations.
Macelan did not speak of the soldiers but his mind was on them. The High King was displaying his power in a manner that had surprised Macelan. He had met the soft-spoken ruler years ago when Macelan's mother had taken him back to Nantitet to see his grandmother. Macelan's grandmother had been a servant for the High King's mother and before his grandmother died, she enjoyed much freedom and influence with the Royal family.
Of late, the High King was expanding his power; trying to bring Curesia and Wierland under control of Calendia again. Soldiers fanned out from Nantitet securing Calendia before crossing into the other kingdoms. In past centuries Nantitet ruled all three kingdoms in western Anavar. It was rumored that wizards had come from a foreign land to help the High King. Whatever happened, independent cities could be a thing of the past.
The night came upon them quickly but they were already huddled in their bedding, Macelan was sound asleep and Serada lay awake long into the night listening to the odd noises that grew in volume as the darkness increased. His stomach rumbled, unsatisfied by the meal of ale and pretzels. He kicked himself for allowing Macelan to obtain their meals for them. Luckily, they would reach Greenhills the following day.
"Macelan?" he whispered. But there was no reply. Serada did not like being so far from the sea. The crashing of the waves was missing and the unfamiliar sounds did not soothe him. All his family made their living from the sea and his brothers were fishermen. His father had not returned from his last trip to sea. At home, he could hear the sea from his bed and he had never realized what security it had been to him until now. It was his father's soothing voice in the sound of the surf, calming him, and protecting him. The sounds of the forest around him now did not ease his mind and he spoke to Macelan again. Macelan murmured and rolled over but did not wake.
There was the sound of movement several yards into the woods and Serada heard the sound clearly and quickly estimated the size of the creature that made it.
"Macelan! Wake up!" He reached and shook Macelan's shoulder as he called.
"What? Go to sleep."
"I heard something."
"An animal. Go to sleep."
"Yes! An animal! Big!"
"A deer."
"Too small." His ears strained to hear more, but only the crickets sounded.
"Look, so it was a bear. Go to sleep. It will not bother us. Maybe come over and smell us but nothing to be afraid of. That's why the packs are up in the tree. We're safe."
"Smell us? You mean it might stick its nose in my face?"
"It won't hurt you. Unless it smells your breath. You ought to eat something other than fish for a change. Bears like fish." Suddenly, he reached out and hit Serada on the leg.
Serada shouted and several noises burst from the darkness. "Don't do that!"
"Now look what you've done. You've scared all the animals away."
"I scared them?"
"Sure," said Macelan. "That was one of my favorite memories about this place; waking up in the morning and seeing deer tracks nearby. Once there was one right next to me."
"Any bear tracks?"
"No. Bears don't live in these woods."
"What?!"
"We're too far south for bears. Go to sleep, Serada. We have a long walk tomorrow." Even in the darkness, Serada thought he could see Macelan's wide grin. He vowed to repay the joke.
Macelan was quickly asleep but Serada was too upset and he lay muttering to himself until finally sleep overtook him and the forest was peaceful again.
As they neared Greenhills there were signs that the soldiers did not all march to Dale. There was a small encampment south of the town and Macelan could see the red uniforms moving among the tents. They did not know if soldiers were in the city but they thought it best to be prudent. The stories of conscription were legendary. And most that joined the Calendian army, if they lived, came to love the Calendian soldier life after a few years. But they seldom saw their home again. Deserters found only the grave.
They circled away from the river and skirted the town to approach from the north. Macelan's cousin, Bonoma, lived in the northern part of the city. Greenhills thrived on trade and hunting, not much land was useful for farming. It sat on the banks of the river, back against the forest protected from the winds sweeping down the mountains.
There were several homesteads to the north and many were well off the road but there were some right up close to it and they walked a winding route to avoid being seen by the inhabitants. They jumped fences and walked under hedges and the tall figure of Macelan walked quickly and without hesitation and Serada struggled to keep up. They left the road, dropped down into a gully, and followed the trickling water until the gully opened up and the water joined a creek. They walked upland for a mile and then they saw several men gathered in a clearing. Bonoma was there.
Macelan paused and watched. The men were armed. They appeared to be, like Bonoma, men from Greenhills, dressed in browns and greens, rough cloth, sewn without artistry. Their voices were low and urgent. Something was wrong; Macelan did not like the implications of the situation. Macelan motioned to Serada to follow him. Suddenly they felt the sharp points of spears in their backs.
"Do not move. Raise your hands. Now then, walk slowly." One of the sentries behind them whistled sharply and the men in the clearing readied themselves. One man came forward and looked over the prisoners. He shook his head and sheathed his sword.
"Macelan?" exclaimed Bonoma. "What are you doing here?"
"We came for a visit. Thought you might like to have company. Do you remember Serada?"
"Of course." He looked at his cousin and then at the men gathered behind him. "I'm afraid your visit is ill-timed. We have no opportunity for mirth today. A serious threat to our well-being has arrived in Greenhills. You best leave while you can." Bonoma was tall and heavy, but not as tall as his cousin was. He worked as a smith but as middle age drew near his middle expanded and his hair receded. His face was round and covered by a bristly beard flecked with grey.
"We saw soldiers marching south and the camp outside of town."
"There are some in town, too," said Bonoma. "They have taken many of the young men. The only ones left are here. There are scarce two dozen of us."
"You're one of the young men?" asked Macelan with a smile. Bonoma glared at him, unable to appreciate the humor.
"They came two days ago. Their captain was polite but his words slapped us. He was there to conscript soldiers and would take fifteen, no more, no less. We tried to reason with him but he had his orders from the High King personally. He had no choice. The first night three boys died resisting. We hid everyone we could. The captain gave us a deadline to comply or face the torch. Tonight is the deadline."
"That is a tough decision. Glad it isn't mine," said Macelan.
Bonoma shook his head. "Are you here to help us?"
"We're on a vacation." Macelan was annoyed they ignored his joking. He tried to interject humor wherever he could, but he had yet to learn when to hold his tongue.
"Excuse me," said Bonoma. He exhaled deeply. "How can you know for sure when you are working and when you are not? You never had a sense of responsibility and you still refuse it. This is a serious time where your foolery is misplaced. We are not laughing in Greenhills anymore. If you came to visit me, my wife is home alone in grief. Jared was killed by soldiers. He refused conscription."
"Killed?" Macelan looked at the somber faces around him. "Killed?"
"Sporting fun, eh? I shouted for justice and was struck down." He brushed his hair aside to show the wound. "If we refuse to cooperation they will kill us."
"Jared dead? I don't believe it."
"Ask his mother!" Tears filled Bonoma's eyes. "Perhaps that will bring you closer to reality. Don't you care about anything? But of course, this is not your home. Jared's death merely spoils your vacation. This is our home. We need serious men here. This is life or death. We must justify Jared's death."
"Nothing will bring him back. It's pointless," said Macelan. Pointless to resist the soldiers, rather stop the seas from rushing the shore.
"My son's life was not pointless!" cried Bonoma. He raised his huge fist at Macelan who still did not realize what he had been saying.