Son of Soron (19 page)

Verin finished chewing a piece of jerky before explaining, “in Balta I am a ranger. When I was a boy not much older than you Balta was attacked by Morthon. Morthon is a smaller neighboring kingdom only separated by a narrow patch of desert, and the forests. From the coast of Balta, you could view almost Morthon. Morthon besides having a large cattle and sheep industry did not possess much wealth. The king of Morthon looked with envy on the comparative wealth that blessed Balta. With mines of gold and silver along with a healthy agricultural base, we were and still are considered a wealthy nation.”

Verin paused taking another bite of jerky. “The biggest differences between Morthon and Balta are political though. In Morthon the king owns the majority the land in the kingdom and its entire population is subject to the king, only a few select lords are allowed to buy property. In Balta, your grandfather and great grandfather have changed the structure of our own laws. Property rights have been given to our subjects. A farmer can own the land he works, a fisherman chooses when and where to sell his products without consulting the king. This has worked great in Balta, people are happier. They work harder and pay fewer taxes. The kingdom has grown because of it. And while our families’ wealth initially decreased quite a bit from giving up our land to the people we have actually gained a lot as well.”

Nathan thought about this while listening to the story. Balta sounded like a good place.

“The people are more loyal than ever before, they are happy and live better. Freedom and hope are powerful tools in running a kingdom, but the rulers in Morthon don’t see it that way. They think our kings have grown weak, that we give up our lands because we cannot hold them. That the gods created kings to rule over the masses and only a true king can own land. This is why Morthon attacked Balta and the wars began,” continued Verin. "I was a squire at the time, training to become a knight. I served Sir Edmont, the red. He was very brave and noble man. Like you and I, he was my uncle on my mother’s side, and he taught me much about warfare and fighting. When the Morthon army struck it was Sir Edmont and his battalion of knights that turned back the initial wave of attacks. His knights were so fierce that they were defeating three Morthon soldiers for every knight that fell. Which was excellent except Morthon’s soldiers outnumbered Sir Edmont and his knights five to one. Sir Edmont died in that first big battle but not before slaying the commander of the Morthon forces. Leaderless and with the majority of their troops dead the Morthon army retreated. But the Morthon leaders have no intentions of letting us live in peace so they send small scavenging outfits in to harass and scare the free landholders. We developed a network of scouts and rangers keep an eye on our lands for further attacks and track down any scavenging outfits we could find. Because of my status as a prince of Balta I became the leader of the rangers and still am. But I prefer to be out in the field with my men not in a castle. The last couple years have been relatively quiet so I have been home to the capital more often. It was on one of those visits to the capital that we received word of your parents’ death” said Verin.

They talked more about Balta that night. Compared to life in Elderwood it sounded exotic and mystical. Nathan was excited. He had decided that he would join Verin and take the journey to see the land of his mother’s people. He would miss Elderwood but now that he had taught the Dollans basic potion making and dispatched the bandits he could leave without feeling guilty. He thought about Ava and her parting words. They still stung.  He wondered if she missed him. Perhaps it would be good to stay away longer, till her temper had truly cooled off. That red hair of hers was as fiery as her tongue. He missed it. He decided he could miss it just a little while longer. She hated goodbyes so he would save them from having to say another goodbye. It just seemed logical. He decided he would go back to Elderwood after visiting Balta. Before he went to sleep he thought about the strange directions his life was taking, the mystery shrouding his parent’s lives. A warrior prince and a princess living incognito in a small village: it was like a fairy story his mother had once told him to help him settle down and sleep at bedtime.  Had it really been a fable?  Life was changing too fast. Nathan had pictured himself being a blacksmith as was his father. Now it seemed not so cut and dried. He could skip the royalty thing. However, the idea of being a protector seemed noble.

Nathan did not want to abandon his smithing. Working with metal reminded him of his father. He missed working the metal. Then he realized perhaps he missed his father more. Life was getting more confusing. Nathan sighed before he drifted off to sleep. Verin had assured Nathan than in Balta he would have all the access to blacksmith materials he wanted so that wasn’t a problem. The issue being, in order to make the black steel, he needed to have graphite, phosphorus and witch oak. The first two weren’t that rare and could be found in Balta, but witch oak was a different story. As far as anyone knew the only place it grew was on the north side of the Applomean Mountains, the land of the Pellians. 

Chapter twenty six
 

NATHAN AND VERIN continued their journey down into the valleys of the north. As they got lower out of the high mountains Nathan started to see some subtle variations in the vegetation and landscape different from the south.  While the area they were in was forested it was sparse. Instead of thick clumps of cedar, pine and birch there were towering red oaks that were so big that small trees didn’t grow around them. The undergrowth was rocky and mossy with less vegetation altogether.

For two days, they traveled west. They were taking their time, hunting and enjoying the scenery as they went. It was new land to both of them and they were savoring the experience. They had been following a small creek when they came up to a deep pond. It looked promising for fish, as it was dark and deep. When the first trout jumped out of the water in front of them Verin insisted they stop. Nathan laughed, thinking that catching fish would be a fine idea, so they stopped and built themselves fishing rods out of a couple oak branches and thread from one of Verin’s old shirts. Nathan was too reluctant to rip the fine clothing he had purchased in Birchone. Nathan carved small hooks and attached them to the newly made fishing rods. They used small bits of dried fruit for bait and had a most successful and fun day. By nightfall, they had caught and smoked a dozen good size fish and eaten three more. With bellies full and replenished food stores for travel, they continued their journey in relative comfort.

On the fourth day in the north, Nathan and Verin came to a village. They were not sure how the northerners would react to strangers, but it would be better to walk straight up then be found lurking in the forest. So they took their chances and entered the village. It was a small village, eight houses of modest size with a large main lodge in the middle. The houses and lodge formed a horseshoe around a relatively open space only with a well in the middle.

When Nathan and Verin walked into the village there were a few children playing in the open space by the well. When they saw Nathan and Verin, they scattered into various houses. As Nathan got closer to the well he could sense that all the eyes on him were not just in the houses. While they had walked up into the village someone had come up behind them. Slowly Nathan turned to find a towering older man with a large spear standing not over ten feet behind them. The old warrior walked as quiet as a soft wind to get that close without being noticed.

Nathan thought about the old warrior sneaking up behind them, if he had meant them harm, he likely would have already done so. Nathan smiled and raised a hand in greeting. “Hello, we have been traveling west when we came to your village. We thought it best to come in and announce ourselves before continuing on our way.”

The old northerner looked over the two men. Verin with his blond hair and slender build was much smaller than the most from the north and stood out as being from the south. Nathan with his dark hair and large frame was harder to place until you noticed the blue eyes that marked him as having at least some southern blood. “I didn’t think you were very war like yesterday when you two spent half the day fishing. Otherwise, I would have killed you in your sleep, what are you doing here?” The old warrior’s words sounded harsh, but the smile on his face and twinkle in his eye showed he was having a little fun at their expense. Letting them know that they had been watched for at least a day without their knowledge.

Nathan laughed. “Well, I meant war on those fish. Northern trout is mighty tasty.”

“Come with me, the men will back from the mine soon. We will eat then you can tell me how two southerners ended up in Arith.The old warrior led them to the main lodge. Inside the lodge were two long tables with a large fireplace on the far end. The old warrior walked to the far end of one of the tables and took a seat at the head of the table. He gestured for Nathan and Verin to sit beside him. “My name is Burinn Oggson; I welcome you to my table,” said the warrior.

Verin having had some dealings with Soron and other northern men relaxed a bit. Now they were safe as Burinn had declared them guests. They were under his protection as long as they were in the village.

“My thanks, Burinn. My name is Verin and my young companion is Nathan,” said Verin, giving a small formal bow as he spoke.

As the introductions were completed a woman came into the room with a pitcher and three mugs. Burinn told them a little about the village as they watched the room begin to fill with men woman and children. Soon all the curious villagers were in room and dinner was brought in.

The meal was delicious, roast duck, elk steaks, yams and wild asparagus. The villagers were polite yet wary. Mainly Burinn, and a few of the men at his table, spoke with them while the other men talked amongst themselves. This changed when one of the men, Manyal, noticed Nathan’s black daggers.

“Fine looking knives you got there boy, where did you buy them?” Manyal was one of the men who were being friendly and his voice held a curious tone, so Nathan did not take this as a threat and replied honestly, “Actually I made them.”

The room went silent and everyone focused their attentions on Nathan. “That is a lie,” spoke a man from the opposite table. He stood from his seat and walked over towards Nathan. “You are here as a guest of Burinn, but if you disrespect me again by lying in my presence, I will take out your lying tongue.”

Nathan wanted to be polite and make sure nothing bad happened, but to be called a liar made his blood to a boil. He had never been so insulted and he would not back down to appease this man. “The blades are mine, I made them myself and if you call me a liar again I will show you how good I am with them.” Nathan smiled at the man but did not look happy. He looked more like a predator about to strike.

Before the man could say anything more Burinn raised his voice “Enough Magnus, sit down. I will deal with this.” Burinn turned and stared at Nathan. “You are my guest, but no southerner can forge the black metal. To continue this tale would be disrespecting me, and as such, I would have to end my hospitality and let Magnus continue this conversation. It would not go well for you.”

“I am not sure I like the hospitality of this village anyways, calling guests liars without knowing that of which they speak and I will not change my claim. The knives were made by me." Nathan was fuming, this was so insulting! He just wanted to lash out and hit someone. He stared hard at Magnus, wishing the big man would attack him.

While Nathan argued with the northerners, Verin was surprised. He had never seen Nathan lose his cool before, even in battle he had remained calm. So before things got too far out of hand, Verin decided it was time to calm things down and explain who the boy truly was.  The explanation could be useful or very dangerous if Verin had read the men wrong. He hoped, as he had gathered from their earlier conversation, gleaning bits of information, that these villagers were friendly to the clans that called Stoneblood their king. Verin gambled. “Nathan, sit now!” Verin commanded in a sharp tone that Nathan had not heard before.

Surprised by the sharp authoritative command, Nathan momentarily forgot his building rage and took a seat.

As Nathan sat Verin continued to address the northerners. “Burinn, we are grateful for your hospitality and do not wish to cause trouble. The boy is speaking the truth. The fault lies with me for not giving a proper introduction. My full name is Verin Albin, from Balta, and this is Nathan Stoneblood, son of Soron Stoneblood.”

The entire room started to mumble at this, Soron Stoneblood, son of Theron Stoneblood, a king of the north. While Nathan sat ridged, seething in anger and waiting for someone to call this a lie, Burinn started to laugh. “Well that certainly does explain the knives and the temper. I’ve never heard of a Stoneblood who could take being called a liar.” The tensions in the room disappear with Burinn’s hearty laughter. “Hell boy, why didn’t you say so earlier. We would’ve cooked something fancy for you.”

Nathan, while starting to cool down, was obviously still furious so Verin answered for him, “Young Nathan and I are not familiar with the north. But we do know that not all the tribes are loyal to Theron Stoneblood. I thought it prudent to not mention it.”

Burinn and the others all could see the logic in this, as there was many northern chiefs who would gladly take the life of a Stoneblood, any Stoneblood. ”Well you picked the right village to wander into. This village owes a lot to Theron Stoneblood.”

Magnus came over to Nathan again, “My apologies Nathan. I should have recognized by your size that you had some northern blood in you, but those damn blue eyes are so southern.” This was finally the moment where Nathan’s anger dissipated. He joined in with the villagers in their laughter “I, too, am sorry Magnus. I lost my temper.”

The rest of the night went much smoother and many laughs were had as the food was taken away and the mead got stronger. As the night went on more and more of the villagers returned to their houses until only Burinn and Magnus were left with them.