Go For Stories

He woke just before the sunrise with a stiff neck and a stick in his side. While he had had worse sleeps, this was not the best by any stretch. Rolling his head from side to side, he listened to his spine crackle like dry wood in a fire. He then opened his bag, pulled out a hunk of smoked meat and shoved it in his mouth. He shouldered his bag and made his way down the tree, listening for the horned-cats.

He reached a low branch and pulled it back to reveal the forest below. It was quiet and seemed empty. The cats must have gotten bored waiting for him to descend and wandered off, searching for easier prey instead.

He jumped from the branch and landed in the dry leaves below him, letting out nothing more than a muffled thud. He stood and looked at the base of his tree. The bark here was clawed to shreds and drenched in urine; this was the mark of possible future meals. V’esen gave another wary look around before he headed off into the forest once more.

He wandered as the sun came up, making it easier for him to see. Once he could see every detail of the trees, he took off at a run. He didn’t want to waste a moment. The sooner he found out what he had seen in his vision, the sooner he could go home. Sticks flicked up at his ankles and leaves buffeted his face, but he didn’t care. Every branch was one branch closer to his goal.

He ran and ran, but eventually came to a point where the undergrowth was so dense, that he had to slow his pace. The shadows were so deep here that night seemed to have fallen again. He pushed shrubs and leaves aside and trudged deeper into the thick foliage. The deeper he went, the tighter the fit until eventually the way was so marred by spiny branches and thorned bushes that he could no longer continue.

He stopped and took a moment to catch his breath and decide what to do. The way he saw it, he had two options: one; make his way back and find a way around, or two; climb a tree and move through the canopy.

He chose the latter.

Fighting his way to the nearest tree, he scaled the trunk. More than once, he had to climb down a way to retrieve his bag that had snagged in a cluster of thorns. His arms were scratched and bleeding, but he continued to climb. At length, he made his way free of the undergrowth and sat on a thick branch, his chest heaving with laboured breaths. His bag was destroyed. There were now more holes than bag. There was just enough left to have saved his crossbow and daggers, but the food was long gone. He clipped the crossbow to his trousers and slotted a dagger into each boot, before letting the bag fall to the first branch that would have it.

He sighed and made his way to a higher branch that stuck out until it touched the next tree. He stepped from one tree to the other, trying his best to continue in the same direction; no easy task. He climbed to the trunk of the tree and up until he came to another overhanging branch which allowed him to move on. For the first time that day, his spirits lifted. Like this, he could make far better time through the forest than if he chosen to go around the dense foliage. He wiped his hand across his sweaty brow and moved to the next tree.

As he touched the trunk, he stopped dead. He could sense something coming, something dangerous. Staying as still as he could, he waited and listened. A crack sounded through the trees, then another, followed by a loud cawing shriek.

“Mards!” He cursed to himself. Mards were the last thing he wanted right now. Vicious creatures with sharp beaks and long, spiked tails, they would likely pursue him until he either fell from the branches or they swarmed him, pecking at his flesh and bones. He waited to ascertain where they were coming from. There was no point in rushing off, only to find he had made their job easier. Besides, there was a chance they would simply pass him by. Maybe.

With his arms wrapped around the trunk, he listened. There, he heard another shriek, echoed by countless others. That wasn’t good. They were hunting now. He threw caution to the wind and ran out across the branch on which he stood. This one didn’t overhang but there was another tree close by, so he jumped from one to the other. He climbed to the next branch and swung over to another tree.

He continued like this, jumping and swinging, hearing the mards come ever closer. He climbed and dropped, moving through the simplest path he could find. As he leapt through the air yet again, his foot caught on an overhanging branch and he stumbled, grappling for a handhold. He missed and tumbled down to another branch, bouncing off that and rolling onto another. He shot out a hand and gripped the next limb, wrenching his arm, but arresting his fall. He flung himself up to the higher branch and whipped his crossbow out and pointed it towards his pursuers.

The mards came into view, leaping from tree to tree and over each other in their mad rush to get to him. Their feathered heads ruffled with the fury of the chase as their long tails gripped the branches, swinging them upside down and around the trees. The tail spikes released them at the perfect time and sent them soaring with speed towards V’esen, thin arms and claws extended. He fired the first bolt, hoping it would scare them away. One mard fell, but the others kept coming. He tore another bolt from his wrist band and notched it, firing it at once. It glanced off a branch, sending splinters flying. Still the mards closed in.

He took a deep breath and aimed at the lead mard, a big green one with a blue crest and a blood-stained beak. Letting the air out slowly, he squeezed the trigger and loosed the bolt. It streaked through the air, imbedding itself into the creature’s throat. Its tail shot out, gripping onto the nearest trunk and it faltered. Lifting its hands up to the bolt, it blinked and gasped. The other mards stopped to watch their leader’s legs wobble. It squeaked and tottered, falling from the branch. Its tail spikes remained in the wood and it hung limp from the tree, swinging like an apple in the breeze.

V’esen stared at the mards, waiting to see their reaction. One stepped forward, then back, then forward again. They shrieked and squawked, bustling about each other. V’esen took their confusion as the perfect opportunity to leave. As he scaled the tree, he could hear the small beasts fighting amongst themselves; choosing their new leader. For now, at least, he was safe from the flock.

He climbed to the top of his tree, breaking through the dark canopy and into the sunlight. He blinked rapidly in an attempt to remove the white spots from his eyes, and looked out over the trees. What he saw both excited and upset him.

There, not forty paces away, stood the outer battlements of a great, ruined castle. Shrouded in brambles and vines, it was no wonder he had never known of its presence. Having discovered it now meant he was closer to finding the source of his vision, but it also meant that it held more truth than he cared to think about. Inside the walls stood a large, round central keep with ramparts rising to the battlements. More to his surprise were the dozens of soldiers that walked within the castle grounds, going about their tasks with unnerving normality. With the journey V’esen had taken, he couldn’t wonder how so many had reached the castle unscathed, or even as to what their purpose could be.

Whatever their purpose, he had still to find a way in. The tall trees surrounding the castle and grounds grew quite close, giving him a simple solution. The castle being where it was, it was unlikely that they would be prepared for any form of intrusion. He figured he could simply drop in unannounced with little or no opposition. But when should he breach the walls and go searching for the man who murdered him in his vision?

He could wait for the cover of darkness, using the shadows to hide his entry. However, in his vision the sun shone through a hole in the building. If he were to infiltrate the building it must be during the day. Giving his rush through the trees earlier, it would be logical for him to wait until tomorrow. This would give his body a chance to recover, but it would also take him one day longer before he could travel home. This idea held no sweetness in his mind, so he decided on today. It was, after all, the only reasonable day for such a lark. He cast an eye over the forest, chose his entry point and headed back under the cover of the canopy.