The Dawn of the Raven Omnibus 1: Episodes 1-5 (7 page)

Kiella was shocked by how deeply she slept.  She had no idea
how long she’d been out, and judging by the light coming into the cave when she
awoke the sun had already been up for quite a while.  As she cleared the fog
from her mind and focused her eyes, she realized they weren’t alone.  A man was
there, right next to her, leaning over Raveena.  Kiella lunged for the blade
that still lay by the fire.  The man jumped back in shock when he saw her
sudden movement.

“Oh!  I’m
sorry Miss.  I didn’t mean to startle you.  I was just checking over your
friend here.  She needs help.  She needs aid badly, or she won’t last the day,
I fear.”

Kiella kept the blade firmly in hand.  She pointed it, the
tip trembling with her shaken nerves and surge of adrenaline, as she stepped
over to Raveena’s body to stand guard.

“Really,
Miss, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.  I came across your friend and
saw she needed aid, that is all.  Here . . .  here, you must be starving.  Have
a bite.”

He held out his hand and offered some jerky.  Kiella was
starving, but she didn’t know what to make of this fellow yet.  He continued.

“Please,
it’s not poison.  Here.”  He pulled off a bit of the large piece he was
offering and chewed it himself and swallowed.  “See?  It’s quite good.  It’s my
own recipe.  Well, not my recipe.  Been handed down through generations of
Bumbeldens.  If there’s one thing a Bumbelden can do well, it’s make a good
piece of jerky.  That’s my kin name.  I’m Bob Bumbleden.” 

Bob held out a dirty hand with a fingerless glove.  Kiella
still chose to err towards caution.

“Look, I
promise you, I won’t bite.  I know, I may be a bit mangy, but I am quite
civilized.  Just, you know, hygiene isn’t a big deal when you spend most of
your time alone.  I live out here, not far, my little shack.  Just me and my
dog, Cretin.  We get along just fine.  He’s good company.  We hunt.  We fish. 
We lie about and have a laugh.  That’s about it.”

He gave her a big grin, with only about half of the teeth
that a normal mouth should house, and with those teeth that were left mostly
ranging from yellow to green to black.  Yet he did seem kind, and Kiella was
very hungry indeed.  She finally accepted a piece of the jerky, and when she
did try a sample, it was quite good.

“Ah, that’s
better!  It’s good, ain’t it?”

Kiella nodded and set the blade down, though she kept it at
close reach.  She finally spoke.

“Are you an
exile?  You’re not angry we’re here?”

“Me?  No. 
I’m not one of them.  No way.  And angry?  No way.  It’s nice to have some
company for a change.  Cretin is good company, but not the best at
conversation.  It’s nice to have someone to share breakfast with for a change.”

“Then, if
you’re not one of the exiles, then how is it you are here, in the Forbidden
Forest?”

“Oh.   My
people, we don’t worry about ‘Forbidden Forests’ or lines and truces.  My
people trapped and hunted here and called these woods home long before they
came here, the exiles you speak of.  We were grandfathered in, I’d say.  Those
rules and laws don’t apply to me.  I come and go as I please, cross whatever
lines I want.  This is my home, no one will stop me.”

“The exiles
don’t mind?”

“Well, first
of all, these exiles, as you call them, well, I know them as The Elken.  And
this ‘Forbidden Forest’, well, to me I know it as what it was called long
before it was ‘forbidden’, Elring forest.  And, as I said, Elring Forest has
been the home to my ancestors for longer probably than your kind or the Elken
have even been around, so I really just call it home.  All of that stuff,
lines, truces . . .  that’s all for you guys, between the rest of you outsiders
and The Elken.  I live here, I hunt and trap here, I go out and sell the best
trophies and the best catches, and then I come back and live my life.  The
Elken, yes, they are ferocious.   And territorial.  You’d best watch out for them. 
You’re right to worry.  But I know where to go and where not to go.  I know not
to mess with them, so they don’t mess with me.  Mutual respect, I reckon.”

Kiella finished her jerky.  Bob then pulled out a canteen and
drank and then offered it to her.  She hesitated to take it, so he quickly took
it back, wiped it off with the cleanest section of his shirt that he could
find, and then held it back out for offering, and this time she took him up on
it.  It did taste fresh and gave her parched throat much relief.

“Ah, fresh
off the morning spring” he boasted.  “You’d best see if you can get your friend
to take some.  Here . . . “

Bob helped Kiella lift Raveena’s back and head up a little,
to see if they could get her to take some.  But, it was no use.  They gave up
quickly for fear she would choke on it, as she was completely unconscious. 

“May I take
a look at the wound?” asked Bob.

Kiella, now finally beginning to grow accustomed to Bob,
relented.  They pulled back the wound’s dressing carefully.

“Oh no.  It
looks beyond help, I fear.  You did good to try and cauterize it, but it didn’t
go deep enough.  It festers below the burn, deep in the tissue.  See there, the
ooze.  That color is not good.  Not good at all.  We will have to cut her back
open, but in deep, and clean it out if she’s to have a chance at all.  I have
things back at my home that might work.  It’s quite a ways away, though.  I’ve
been away from home for three days now, camping out here, trying to trap a
bear.  Biggest son-of-a-bitch I’ve ever seen.  Yet, trapping’s my specialty. 
Sooner or later, I’ll get him, though he’s broken every trap I’ve laid out so
far.  But it’s your friend’s only chance.  I’ve got some herbs, some
medicines.  I’ve got some tools we can use and some alcohol I brewed to clean
it with.  I don’t know how long she’ll last, but we could try to fashion her a
gurney and tie it to my mule.  We could reach my shack by mid-day tomorrow, and
if she’s still holding on by then, we can operate.  In the meantime, I know
some berries and herbs that grow here that might help her hold on.”

Kiella looked at Raveena.  From all that she knew of
medicine, she was already beyond help.  She knew she had little chance of
survival alone in these woods too, so she felt she had little choice but to go
along with Bob Bumbelden’s plan.  Besides, just the fact that he could guide
her safely, hopefully, away from the exiles made him an invaluable ally.  They
worked together to fashion a stretcher using sticks and grasses and a large
hide of a beast that Bob had slain, attached it to Bob’s mule to pull Raveena,
and by late morning they were on their way.

By daylight, the Forbidden Forest was gorgeous.  It was much
more lush than the Raganean woods, teeming with life.  The plants, flowers, and
birds all had much more color than what Kiella was used to seeing. 
Occasionally, Bob would stop along the way to check his traps.  He had done
quite well, finding a large beautiful bird that he claimed would fetch him a
high price in trade, a badger, and a large rabbit.

“Ah!”
exclaimed Bob as he held up the rabbit.  “Dinner!”

As they reached a brook, Bob suddenly grew excited.

“There they
are!  The bobbin leaves.”  He got down on his hands and knees and pushed deep
into a small bush.  He popped back out triumphantly with three shiny red leaves
in hand.

“See!  They
only grow in the shade of other, larger bushes, but always close to running
water.  Here, this should help.”

Bob produced a mortar and pestle from his sack on the mule
and quickly went about grinding up the leaves. 

“Here, put
this on her tongue.  Just a bit is all it takes.”

Kiella put a bit of the ground leaves in Raveena’s mouth. 
There was no change in her state, but within minutes her color did seem to
improve.

“Yes, see? 
Can you see it?  Always gives the system a boost.  That might be all she needs
to keep her around long enough for us to get back and operate, but I will hold
onto the rest and we can give her more along the way.  Hopefully, this will
make the difference, poor lass.”

They paused by the brook to refill the canteen and catch
their breath.  Bob took the chance to try and make more small-talk, and learn
more about his new companions.

“That wound,
must be quite a story behind it!  Robbers, muggers, thieves?  Or is it you two,
on the lam?  Stole something?  Did she have a jealous lover in a rage?”

Kiella remained silent.

“Oh, oh. 
I’m sorry.  Please forgive old Bob.  We Bumbledens aren’t known for our
manners, but we mean well.”

Kiella chewed on some more jerky Bob had offered, and then
thought of her own questions. 

“The Elken .
. .  we’re being careful to avoid them, right?  You don’t think they’ll see
us?”

“Oh no. 
They don’t come out this way much.  I think it will be fine.  Though, it’s
always better to be safe with those ones.  Animals, really.  And mystical.  You
know that, right?  Magic, those ones have.  You don’t ever want to piss them
off.  You’re probably right.  We’d best move on.  Shouldn’t sit out here in the
open like this.  I’m used to traveling alone, but we should be more cautious.”

They continued through the forest, being careful to stay
where the trees were thick now, so they wouldn’t be easily noticed.  Raveena
was still unconscious, but she now stirred occasionally, as if dreaming, and
her color still looked improved.  As they walked, though they were taking all
precautions to avoid discovery, Kiella couldn’t help but keep feeling
paranoid.  She constantly felt as if they were being watched.  She’d be certain
of it and then, upon hearing a twig or branch break from behind, would swivel
her head as fast as she could, certain to find a band of exiles there, ready to
attack.  But each time there was nothing.  Maybe sometimes a small squirrel,
bird, or other animal of the like, but mostly it was just her mind playing
tricks on her.  One of the times, when she felt the hairs on the back of her
neck raising and was completely certain that eyes were on her, she searched all
around and finally found the source: a hawk that was flying far above.  It was
following their path, as if it were looking for the right moment to swoop in
for the kill.  “You are quite a specimen, but I think I’m a little big for you”
thought Kiella as she stared back at it.  And, sure enough, the hawk’s interest
soon faded and it flew off in search of more appropriate prey.  With all of her
paranoia and fear of the exiles, Kiella didn’t want to make too much noise, but
she couldn’t contain all of her curiosity, so she whispered to Bob as they
walked.

“The Elken .
. .  you say they have magic?  I’ve heard mention of this.  They are witches,
right?  My people say little about them, except that they are evil and they are
to be feared.”

Bob’s face grew grim.

“Oh yes. 
Your people are wise.  They do practice witchcraft, I think.  I don’t get too
close, but I know that they can do things . . . well, things that don’t seem .
. .  natural.  They aren’t like you and me.  They aren’t human.  They’re a
completely different breed.  But I’ve got to watch my tongue, I can’t take any
chance on them hearing me talking ill of them.  I don’t harm them, and I stay
out of their way, and they leave me be.  But I have seen things . . .”

With that, Bob stopped in mid-sentence, and his eyes showed
his fear.  He shook his head, as if trying to wrestle his mind free of whatever
horrible vision he had witnessed and had now remembered.  He looked dead onward
into the forest, and quickened his pace, and Kiella did her best to bother him
with her curiosity no more.

As the sun bowed to the other side of the mountains, dusk
came quickly and the forest began to dim.  Just before darkness took hold, Bob
suddenly became very excited. 

“We’re
almost there!” he whispered, though even in a whisper his enthusiasm spilled
over.  “My bear trap is just ahead!   I know it, this time I’ll have gotten the
bastard.  He’s the smartest, toughest, biggest varmint I’ve ever tried to
trap.  His hide will keep me warm for many a winter.  His head will be my
proudest trophy, forever to grace my wall.  I’ll keep that one for myself,
alright!  Oh, I can’t wait.  His claws alone will fetch a high price in trade! 
And the meat . . .  If I treat it right, I can sell half and what remains will
still be enough to feed me and Cretin for weeks!”   

His pace quickened and Kiella noticed a hop in his step as he
closed in on the final fifty meters to his trap.  But, alas, upon reaching it
his high hopes were quickly crushed.  The trap was broken and empty, and the
meat he had left as bait was long gone.

“Damn!  The
bastard got the best of old Bob Bumbelden again!”  After this exclamation, Bob
carefully examined the trap.  “Clever bastard.  Not even a drop of blood.  I
don’t know how it would be possible.  I could have sworn . . .   Hmmm . . . 
the trap must have failed, I think.  I don’t see how he could have figured it
out this time.”  After a few moments to ponder and mourn the failed trap, Bob’s
spirits suddenly, and without warning, lifted again.  “Oh well, just gives me a
reason to plan a new, better one.  I will get you, you big old bastard!  I
promise you that!”  And with that, Bob chuckled and continued on.