THE

FORBIDDEN Book One

James St. John

The Forbidden: Book One Copyright © 2019 by James St. John. All Rights

Reserved.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or

by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and

retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only

exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

Cover designed by James

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents

either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any

resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

James St. John

Visit my website at www.theforbiddenstories.com

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing: March 2019

Independent Publisher

KDP ISBN 9781797758756

Thanks, Marjorie, for becoming a main character in my story.

Your presence, your patience, and your participation in telling

my stories means the world to me.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1 ...................................................................................................................... 5 Chapter 2 ................................................................................................................... 12 Chapter 3 .................................................................................................................... 18 Chapter 4 ................................................................................................................... 23 Chapter 5 ................................................................................................................... 27 Chapter 6 ................................................................................................................... 34 Chapter 7 .................................................................................................................... 41 Chapter 8 ...................................................................................................................44 Chapter 9 ................................................................................................................... 65 Chapter 10 .................................................................................................................. 72 Chapter 11 ...................................................................................................................86 Chapter 12 .................................................................................................................. 92 Chapter 13 ................................................................................................................. 115 Chapter 14 ................................................................................................................. 135 Chapter 15 ................................................................................................................ 147 Chapter 16 ................................................................................................................ 160 Chapter 17 .................................................................................................................175 Chapter 18 ................................................................................................................ 188 Chapter 19 ................................................................................................................ 200

CHAPTER 1

Jon - 32nd year

on's lungs burned. He had never run so far...or so fast. Even on

trips to hunt game with his father, he had never felt this kind of

fatigue. Now, he was the hunted. Ignoring his wife's pleas, he had

set out the previous morning toward the forbidden, a little-known

land to the east of their village. Every map he had ever seen held

those ominous words over a shaded area. People who wandered

there did not return, but he could not ignore what was drawing him

there any longer. The dreams had been coming with greater

frequency. He lost many of the details upon awakening, but he could

still see and feel the wall in his mind. There was nothing like it in

his world. The village buildings were crude in comparison. The huge, smooth, grey stone of the wall was cold to the touch. It was

covered in vines, hidden from the view of curious eyes. He never

would have known it was there if he hadn't run into it.

Jon - 12th year

The loud calls of his friends pushed Jon further into the forest that

surrounded the village. He easily evaded them with the soft foot-

J

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falls of a well-trained hunter of twelve years. It was drilled into him

from the time he could walk. "If you are ever going to find and kill

big game, Jon," his father would whisper, "you must learn to move

without disturbing the energy of the forest." The frequent hunting

trips with his father, uncles, and cousins...all members of the

hunting class...were filled with stories of great hunts that were led

by their fathers and grandfathers. Since the cleansing, that is all they had done. They hunted, butchered and traded meat and hides to

the veggies (an early taught disparaging nick-name for the farming

class) and the keepers (what all hunters called the merchants).

Jon deftly rounded every tree and avoided disturbing the energy

by pacing himself and not allowing his clothes to snag among the

underbrush. He was able to recognize the game trails and duck

through the smallest holes in the tightly woven branches of the brush

and clumps of bracken. The calls of Jon's friends faded. "Those guys

track like veggies and keepers. They will never find me," he thought,

ducking through another wall of weeds. He had never come this far

east. The tales told around midnight campfires began to echo in his

mind, "Every trail east ends in despair." Every hunter that had dared to travel into the forbidden never returned.

A desperate scream that chilled Jon’s bones echoed through the

forest. He increased his pace to a speed he had never run. The

scream pierced his mind when it was repeated. He placed his hands

over his ears and closed his eyes. Whatever it was, it was closer now,

obviously pursuing him. Uncontrollable tears began to flow from his

eyes. He shook his head and opened his eyes, diving through a

thicket. A searing pain immediately paralyzed him. He’d run into

something. As he lost consciousness, he reached out and felt the cold

smooth stone of a wall that was hidden behind the thicket…darkness.

----

Jon awoke in the house of the healer. He had wounds on his face,

hands, and chest. Everything, before he awoke, was darkness. He

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heard whispers from the other room. His parents, their fear and

desperation filling the adjoining room, were imploring the healer to

not give up. The healer said something Jon couldn't hear.

"I'm awake," Jon croaked, weakly. His mouth and throat were

dry. The healer and his parents rushed into the room. He still

remembered the wet, hot tears that flowed against his cheek as his

mother hugged him close. "It hurts," he cried.

"I'm sorry, my child. I thought I had lost you!"

Jon - 32nd year

Jon's pursuers were clumsy. They tripped over the many bare

roots, cursing loudly. Jon continued in a circuitous route, making

some effort to backtrack when he had space and opportunity. He

emerged from the forest on the low bank of a wide river. "This must

be the Tannin River," Jon thought to himself. He paused to get his

bearings. The Tannin emerged from the forbidden southeast of the village. He had walked miles on hunts, even spending time playing

along its banks as a child. It was cold. The river was beginning to

rush with the melting snow from the White Mountains to the

north. Fortunately for Jon, it was flowing swiftly but still shallow

enough for him to make his way across. He shivered and thanked

the Lords that the sun was shining brightly, as it often did in the

mid-spring. As he trudged up the steep bank on the far side of the

river, Jon heard a peal from a horn. He ducked behind a clump of

fallen branches and brush, scanning up the bank to the north and

then south. He caught sight of a man with long red hair and

matching beard who was soon joined by at least a dozen others.

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"Traveler," the first man yelled. "We mean you no harm. We are

but simple navigators from the North Sea. One of our scouts observed

you and we wish nothing but information about the area."

He turned to the others and began pointing to the north and

south. The men divided in either direction, scanning the opposite

bank carefully as they walked. They were dressed in green cloth,

with fur-lined cloaks. They carried strange looking spears, with no discernible point. The sun glinted off their staves, in contrast to the

wood of the butt-end. Jon shrank into the brush, continuing to watch

the men on the opposite bank. A group of six were approaching his

crossing point. He was sure he had been careful to leave no sign of

his entry into the water. The low bank was a collection of rocks and

gravel, littered with an abundance of deadwood from last year’s

spring flooding.

Jon had lost his bearings at some point in the pursuit. He had

traveled farther north than he had intended on his trek to find some

evidence of the wall from his dreams. The group of men stopped at

the low bank. The sweat dripping from Jon's brow was burning his

eyes. He dared not move. The men milled around, kicking gravel and cursing. A couple of the men slung their skins from their shoulders,

kneeling and filling them with water from the river.

A sound from behind him sent chills up Jon's spine. He had been

so focused on the men that he had paid no attention to the sound of

what was approaching from behind. The snuffling indicated some

sort of animal. Jon froze, barely taking a breath. He had to make a

choice. He could turn to face the approaching animal, risking

revealing himself to the men directly across the river, or lay still,

hoping that whatever was there would ignore him and move on. An

all-to-familiar smell hit Jon, as he lay there frozen. The animal,

smelling very much like a buck in pursuit of a mate, continued to

noisily move around behind him pawing at the leaves and noisily

chewing the acorns under the large oak that overhung the bank.

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Jon noticed the men appeared to be gazing in his direction. One

of them knelt to the ground and raised his strange spear. Another

was pointing, indicating to the others the animal on the bank above

Jon. There was an explosion from the spear. Jon recoiled with fear,

making every effort to remain hidden. He had never seen or heard

anything like it before. The fire and smoke that emerged from the

tip of the spear were accompanied by a different, higher pitched sound that passed over his head. There was a howl of pain from the

bank above him. The animal slid toward him, losing its footing and

rolling down the bank toward the river. Jon braced himself for the

impact, grabbing the root of a tree and burying his face in the leaf-

litter. The large buck continued to tumble, the intensity of the cries

increasing as it rolled. Time slowed to a crawl. Suddenly, just above

him, the animal seemed to regain partial footing and pitched directly

over him, falling to the riverbank below. It landed on its back against

a rock protruding from the river and slid into the water.

Shouts of surprise and celebration erupted from the opposite

bank. The group surrounded the man who killed the large deer,

slapped him on his back. Jon discerned exclamations of "Great shot!" and "That was a lucky kill from this distance!" The half dozen

men who had searched in the opposite direction emerged from the

forest, sprinting along the river’s edge.

"What has happened?" the group leader shouted. "I gave no

orders to shoot the man! We need information from him!"

With the entire group distracted, Jon eased himself to his hands

and knees, crawling up toward the top of the slope and away from

the navigators. He'd never heard that word, before. The strange

dress, strange weapons, and strange speech told him that this party

of men were not from his village...or any of the other five villages

with which they were aligned.

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Grabor – 49th year

As Grabor emerged from the forest, weary of the search for the

traveler they had been pursuing half the day, he saw the group he

had ordered to search to the north celebrating a kill. His face, already hot from the pursuit, reddened further. "I gave no orders to shoot

the man! We need information from him!" His son, Grandor, ran

toward them. "Greck shot a large deer that was browsing the

opposite bank. We have been unable to find a good trail for the

man. He may have crossed the river, but we do not know."

"He would be a fool to be traveling alone and far from

home. There must be a dwelling nearby," Grabor announced

thoughtfully. “We will return to our camp. By the time we assemble

our gear, it will be too late to travel further. At first light, by the

Gods, we will find this man's trail back to his dwelling."

"Can we at least retrieve the kill?" asked Grandor. "It has been

many suns since we have enjoyed a fresh kill from the fire."

"Quickly," Grabor shouted as he gazed up and down the river. "Where have you gone, traveler? Our need is great."

"What have I done?" Jon thought to himself. He feared for his

village; his neighbors; his family. "I must return and warn

them. These men and their weapons are a fearsome sight!” The

simple spears and knives that his village possessed would be no

match for them. He watched from the peak of the bank as four men

waded into the river. They grabbed the large deer and, with great

effort, pulled it to the opposite bank. One of the men immediately

retrieved a large knife from his pack and began hewing at the

hindquarters of the large animal. "So much waste," John thought as he watched. "Many families from my village could use every part of

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that kill." He watched as the man cut strips of precious venison and

packed it into small bags to be divided among the party. The men

made quick, messy, work of the deer. Then, after a short

conversation that Jon was unable to discern, Grabor barked, "We

must move."

CHAPTER 2

nce the men had divided the game, they traveled in single file

up the bank of the river and out of sight. Jon, torn between

his quest and returning home, had determined his only course

was to follow the men, hoping to avoid detection and beat them to

the village. He was puzzled. The men were obviously not skilled

woodsmen. They left a disturbance with every step. He followed

their trail, easily. They were loud, talking and laughing as they went.

Even from a great distance, Jon had no trouble hearing them. He

followed and waited for the cover of darkness to approach the camp.

Jon saw the flickering of a flame through the forest. As he drew

closer, he saw the men, surrounding the fire with strips of venison on sticks. They were passing a large jug between them.

“This is the last of our mead,” complained Greck. “I’m glad we

have it to celebrate the kill.” His chest swelled with pride as he

looked around the fire. All the men grunted in agreement.

One by one, they settled to gnaw the meat from their sticks. Jon

knelt behind a fallen tree, the smell of the cooking venison making

his mouth water and his stomach growl from hunger. He opened his

pack, unwrapping a small portion of bread his wife had prepared him

and began to eat…and watch. He had neglected to fill his flask with

water and only had a couple of swallows remaining.

Snap.

O

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Jon’s heart froze. He had been distracted by his hunger and had

failed to notice that one of the men had stumbled away from the fire

to relieve himself. A hand clamped onto the back of his neck.

“It’s not polite to spy, Traveler.” Jon looked around into the clear

blue eyes of a man he recognized to be the one called Grabor. Jon

thought to struggle, but the iron grip around his neck convinced him

that it was useless. “Join us,” Grabor invited. “There is nothing to fear here.”

Grabor released his grip and looked at Jon, grimly. “We’ve wasted

precious time trailing you in these wretched woods. We are masters

of the wind and waves, not men of the woods and game trails.”

“I’ve concluded the same,” Jon replied, trying to stand taller than

his frame would allow. Grabor did not seem to notice. He was a head

taller than Jon, a beast of a man, his face showing the effects of years

in the sun. “Could you spare some meat and drink?” Jon’s stomach

grumbled, again. “I’ve been surviving on some sweet bread and have

just drunk the last of my water.”

Grabor smiled. “We might trade some provision for information.

We are far from the familiar shores of home. These woods are strange to us and we must find our chosen path, soon.”

“Chosen path?” Jon could tell by the sharp glance and quickened

pace that Grabor was not going to offer more details.

“Grandor,” Grabor barked as he entered the camp, “retrieve some

meat and a stick for our visitor.”

Jon emerged from the woods, met with the eyes of the entire party

of men. He bowed smartly.

“May the peace of the forest comfort you.” He mouthed the

traditional greeting of his kinsmen, hoping to soothe his nerves more

than anything.

A few of the men grunted and went back to chewing. Grandor

whispered something to Grabor as he passed, opening a pack and

skewering a healthy portion of venison.

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Greck walked toward Jon, stroking his beard and finding a piece

of meat there which he quickly popped into his mouth. “Well…if it

isn’t the little wharf-rat that has been skittering through the forest

all day. You are to blame for the blisters on my feet!”

“Greck! That is no way to greet a traveler, weary from the day

and seeking fellowship at our fire.” Grabor walked over and put his

arm across the shoulders of his friend. “Besides, he has promised information in exchange for a share of our supper.”

As Jon finished his venison, washing it down with the small

amount of what the men had called mead, the last of the group

settled around the fire. They had been busy packing what they had

divided among themselves. Jon was not sure if they were planning

to force him to travel with them or let him go his way.

“If you are finished eating, traveler, the hour is late. I have need

of information. First, I am Grabor, captain of this crew. This is Grandor, my son. The great hunter, there, is Greck, my first.”

Grabor nodded curtly toward the man who continued to stroke his

beard, eyeing Jon, warily. “Don’t mind him. He is only concerned

for the safety of our crew. You are the first man we have met on our

long journey.”

“My name is Jon,” his voiced cracked a little. He had given up the

façade of bravery.

“Greetings, Jon.” The entire crew spoke in unison.

Grabor smiled, slightly. “We are happy to share our fire with

you.” Everyone seemed to relax, except for Greck. Jon noticed that

he had retrieved the strange spear and sat with it across his legs.

“What should we call this land?”

“It is called Quinland,” Jon replied, trying to decide how much he should reveal of his village, his family or the surrounding villages.

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“Your home is close. No man would travel far alone. I know that.

The dangers of this land are obvious to us.” With that statement,

Grabor rose to his feet and retrieved the spear from Greck. “We

found this strange weapon nearby. I noticed that you were carrying

a spear. Is this weapon familiar to you? Are there men from your

village poised to attack at some sign from you?” Grabor punctuated

his last statement with a turn, pointing the weapon in Jon’s direction, pausing.

Jon winced. Grabor threw the weapon back to Greck. “I’ve told

you. You have nothing to fear from us. Our journey has taken us far

and already cost us much. We left our home a group of eighteen. We

now number twelve.”

“I have never seen such a weapon,” Jon answered, still trembling.

The picture of the explosion and the killing of the deer across the

wide expanse of the river was still fresh in his mind. “We are a

simple people, a group of hunters and farmers. There are five

villages in the area. We trade among ourselves and have never had

contact with anyone like you…anyone outside of Quinland.”

Grabor sat directly across the fire from Jon, stroking his beard, staring through the smoke. Greck rose to his feet, sitting down next

to Grabor. He considered Jon through the smoke, let out a deep sigh

and spoke.

“We are two months journey from our home, traveler. We lack

enough rations to return and we are weary from our journey.” He

grasped Grabor’s shoulder and continued, “Our age is beginning to

show. Traveler, I sense that you are an honest man. Your skills in

these woodlands have proven that you are a worthy adversary…and

a needed friend.”

With that everyone around the fire grunted in agreement. While

listening, Jon was attempting to examine his situation and discern

the mood of this company of men. They were all relaxing and

showing the truth of Greck’s testimony of their weariness. Should

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he offer them guidance? Would it be wise to welcome them into his

village? Their weapons put the villagers at an enormous

disadvantage. Their spears and slings were no match for these

weapons.

“How many of these strange weapons did you find?” Jon shocked

himself with his tone. “Are there more?”

Grabor and Greck turned to one another, silent. Grabor nodded. Greck rose, picking up the spear he had been holding across his

knees. Jon worried that he had been too forceful in his questions as

Greck approached him. He offered the weapon to Jon, with a nod.

“We stumbled across a large cache of these weapons a few days

journey from here. They were housed behind a hatch in a room that

was surprisingly dry. It was constructed in a way we have never seen

before.” He paced and continued, “We were unsure of their purpose

or ability until we discovered a small table at the back of the room.

On the table was a set of drawings that demonstrated their use.”

Greck stooped down and pulled something out of his pack. He

offered what he retrieved to Jon.

“The material on which these instructions are contained is strange to us. Some of it was ruined in a river crossing. It does not

stand up well to being soaked with water.”

Jon looked in awe at the drawings and other strange figures he

saw there. Even though he was holding it in his hands, he could

barely fathom its construction or the way in which the figures were

held there. It was nothing like the skins and scrolls he had rarely

seen.

Greck continued. “As Grabor has told you, we are no danger to

you or your village. We have come into the woodlands to find the

“others.” Six cycles of the moon have passed since one of our wives

discovered a body floating in an eddy of the river outside our village.

The man looked nothing like us. His clothing was unfamiliar. He

wore these.”

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Greck reached into his pack and pulled out two identical gloves

that were the color of the night. Jon took them and examined them

closely. The inside of each glove was covered in hare fur. Jon had

never seen such fine hide work. He placed his hand into one of the

gloves and imagined how they would keep a man’s hands warm on

the coldest days of hunting.

“You may take this weapon as a gift and proof of our commitment to be no threat. If you wish, we will lead you to the cache. You can

take as many of these weapons as is necessary for the men of your

village. We only ask that you not reveal the location to others.” With

that Greck returned to his seat and nodded at Grabor.

Grabor heaved a big sigh, stood and paced a moment. He

approached Jon and extending his hand and looking him in the eyes.

Jon felt like Grabor was looking into the very heart of his being.

Grabor’s blue eyes were bright and clear, like the winter sky.

“Traveler…Jon, if I may. Honor is the foundation of our society.

A false witness is punishable by death. We have traveled far to

discover from where this man has come. We have never known

anyone beyond our borders. Our lives are of the sea. We have villages along the coast and fear of what lay beyond our borders has kept us

there. There are some old stories of those who followed the river

south to never return. We wish to return to our families in safety.

We need provision from your people to do so.” He placed Jon’s hand

in his, bowed quickly, and turned toward his men. “Grandor, you

take first watch. Awaken me in 3 hours.”

CHAPTER 3

he night was uneventful. Jon stared into the dying flame of the

fire for what seemed like hours. What would the villagers think

when they see this large band of red beards approaching from

the east?

At first light, the men struck camp, quickly. Few words were

exchanged. There was a grim atmosphere as they prepared to depart,

the men’s faces cold and without expression. Jon wondered at the

efficient way these men completed their tasks. Each motion was

purposeful. His attempts to be helpful were politely refused, so he

stood by the remaining coals of the fire and observed.

Grandor was the first to break the silence, while Grabor and Greck spoke with the other men.

“I am curious, Jon. When I first sighted you, walking in the

direction of the morning sun, I reckoned that you were on some

errand. Before I returned to report to my father, I followed you for a

distance. You were unwavering in your course. What was your

destination?”

Jon hesitated, studying Grandor’s face. “It was a fool’s errand.

You have noticed the scars on my face and arms, I am sure. The story

is too long to share. I will…”

“Men, we must be on our way. If we are to find our way to our

new friend’s village before the light fails, we must make haste,”

Grabor barked.

T

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“Aye!” every man sounded in unison.

“Well, lead on,” Grandor nodded to Jon. “I hope to hear your story

and better know the ways of your people.”

Jon nodded and turned his attention to Grabor. “Before we begin

our journey, Grabor, sir, I have been thinking about how the villagers

might respond to your group. No men of our village are trained

warriors. The five villages of Quinland have lived at peace since the Cleansing. I am sure, however, that they will attempt to defend their

homes and land quite vigorously.”

Grandor smirked, “What are you suggesting, then?”

“I would propose that you follow at some distance, allowing me

the opportunity to summon a group of hunters to meet you and enter

the village, together.”

Grandor looked to his father, “We must push ourselves to arrive

before night. I propose we travel, together. You choose a place, Jon,

where we will await your hunters.” Grabor smiled. His son was

showing the wisdom that he would need to take his place. “That may

happen sooner than I would like,” he thought to himself as he felt

the weariness of his body from the last day's pursuit.

The men trudged through the forest, following Jon’s circuitous

route along game trails and footpaths that would have escaped their

untrained eye. Grandor was impressed with the skill of their new

friend. While the group of navigators rested in the mid-morning.

Jon had gone into the woods, returning with three hares. He quickly

skinned and prepared them, utilizing herbs that he had gathered

along their trail to make a tasty soup, which the band of travelers

consumed with vigor.

“We should reach my village fields before the sun sets,” Jon said, hopefully. Even though he was guiding the group along the best

trails he knew, they were still progressing much slower than he

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would have liked. If he wanted, he knew that he would have no

trouble losing his companions and escaping to the village. He

snuffed the thought as quickly as it had come to mind.

Jon was impressed with Grandor. His stories of sailing among the

waves of the North Sea were glorious. Jon had difficulty even

imagining the bravery one would necessarily muster to even set a

course upon a body of water so wide that the opposing bank was unseen. He had seen wide places along the river that villagers dare

not attempt to cross in their own crudely constructed rafts. As

Grandor patiently explained unfamiliar words and acts, Jon’s respect

for him grew. He was obviously a man of great courage. He was also

a respected leader among his crew. Grandor had explained the term,

“crew”, used to describe the group who sailed together on a vessel.

Throughout the stories he shared, Jon gathered that his father was

their “captain,” who led the crew. Grandor spoke with great

reverence of his father’s experience on grand and successful voyages

to provide the necessary hauls of fish to provide for his family and

“clan.”

At the height of the day, Jon was able to lead along wider trails among the great oaks that filled the Quinland wilder lands. Only the

hunters and woodsmen wandered through these dense forests. Jon

kept careful watch among the trees for villagers going about their

needed tasks. As the trees thinned and the trails became worn, he

was especially mindful of the noises of the forest. The songs of the

birds and the sound of wildlife in the brush and fallen leaves

indicated to him that men were not about. This gave him great

comfort. The last thing he wanted was to raise an alarm among the

villagers.

As the sun was dipping low in the sky, Jon held his hand up to

indicate a halt to their progress. “Just over this rise, we will arrive

at the far edge of our cultivation. I recommend you all remain here.

I can reach my home more quickly without the concern of discovery

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of our band by villagers. I will go to the elder hunters and call a

council. It will take some time for me to explain your presence. Like

you, we have never known of the existence of others, outside of

Quinland. There will be those among my kinsmen who will be wary

and speak against allowing your entry into our lands. I will return

as early in the new day as possible. If I have been successful in

convincing the hunters to receive you, I will be accompanied by kinsmen who will welcome you, with reservation, you understand. If

I am not successful, I will return with minimal provisions for your

voyage. That is all I can promise.”

Greck grunted, turned to the others and began the process of

finding a proper site to camp. Grabor and Grandor offered their

hands in agreement, offering a short farewell, then turning to join

the rest of the crew in preparing their camp.

Jon was able to reach his home, quickly, without the group of men slowing him down. The smell of freshly baked bread greeted him as

he approached the house. His wife, Sage, and the children must be

finishing the evening meal, by now.

“Papa!” the children squealed when he burst through the door.

They ran to him and wrapped up his legs.

“You have completed your search for this wall more quickly than

I expected,” Sage observed. She kept her seat. Jon had pursued the

errand against her wishes. He could tell she had not yet forgiven

him.

“I have found something much more important, my love,” Jon

said urgently, pulling her up into his arms. “You will not believe it,

of that I am sure.” He planted a long kiss on her lips.

“Jon, the children,” Sage whispered. “What has you so excited?” “I met a group of men in the forbidden.”

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Sage pulled away from him, shooing the children into the other

room.

“Actually, they pursued me across the Tannin River and used the

most amazing weapon to down a large deer. I was afraid for my life

and decided to return home, rather than risk being killed or abducted

by these strangers…”

Sage listened in disbelief as Jon related the happenings of the past two days, showed her the weapon the men had given him and related

a couple of the more exciting stories he had been told along the

journey home.

“I must call a council of the hunters, tonight. Grabor and his

‘crew’ are expecting me to return in the morning with either a

council of peace or provisions to assist them in their journey home.”

Jon nervously paced across the floor.

“You trust these men?” Sage asked, her eyebrows raised. She was

much more cautious than Jon.

“I believe them to be honorable. They could have easily killed me.

They could easily kill all of us with their weapons. Grabor leads his

crew with efficient discipline. I trust that he will honor what he has told me.”

Jon hugged Sage tightly, kissing her forehead. “I will return,

soon, with news from the council. Take an inventory of our

provisions, in case I am left with only that choice.”

CHAPTER 4

on stared at the grim faces. There was much grumbling among

these heads of the hunter families for being disturbed from their

homes for an “important and necessary” meeting about which Jon

would share no real details. He simply told them, “I have discovered

something in the forbidden that will change the course of our future

in Quinland.” The only one who hesitated after that was the eldest

of the family heads, Jerome. He complained of his inflamed knees

and needed rest. He would only leave his house after the rest of the

council volunteered to take turns transporting him in a poled chair

that had been fashioned by one of the keepers to assist the elderly to

make journeys beyond their ability. Now that they were assembled, Jon looked from man to man,

solemnly.

“Respected elders, I am grateful for your time and attendance,

this night. As I have already told you, what I am going to share with

the council of hunters will change the course of our future in

Quinland.” Jon paused to allow the whispering to subside. He sighed

deeply. “We are not alone. What I mean is that there are others,

outside of our borders, beyond the dense forests and mountains.”

A chorus of exclamations and laughter erupted from the younger

members. Jerome lifted his right hand to quiet the group.

J

P a g e | 24

“Brother, have you brought us here to rehearse an old myth or

wives’ tale, long forgotten.” He looked around, receiving a chorus of

agreement from all present.

“No, sir. I have come to seek the counsel of the elder hunters. I

have come to show you, this.” Jon lifted the weapon he had hidden

under his cloak. The quiet that greeted his revelation made it seem

like all the air had been sucked from the room. Each member of the council leaned in for a closer look. Jon offered Jerome the weapon

for examination.

“What is this and where did you find it, Jon?”

“That is why you all are here. This weapon slings, with explosive

force, a spearhead that can travel long distances to kill. I witnessed

the killing of a large deer from across the Tannin River by a man

using a weapon like this one. A single spearing killed the animal.”

There was disbelief on all of the faces surrounding him, so Jon

continued, “A group of men, navigators of the North Sea, by their

own description, spied me as I journeyed into the forbidden. They

pursued me, but I was able to avoid them. They are not skilled

hunters or woodsmen. In fact, the only reason I ended up learning anything about them was I tracked them back to their camp and

became careless in my observations. One of the men stumbled upon

me. I was frightened, but he assured me there was nothing to fear

from them. They welcomed me to share their fire. They shared their

food and drink. They wish to return home but lack enough supplies

to complete the trip. Their leader, Grabor, has requested a council of

peace. Like us, until recently, they were ignorant of any other men

beyond their border.”

Jason, who, like Jon, came to sit as head of a family due to the

death of his father two seasons ago, stood up. “Jon, have you led

these men to our borders to lay waste to our village and pillage our

goods? You say they are from beyond the forbidden. How do you

know they are not the reason our ancestors who dared wander there

P a g e | 25

never returned?” A loud chorus of agreement erupted from the circle

of men. Once again, Jerome lifted his hand and waited.

“Explain yourself, Jon. The council has seemingly measured you

a traitor.”

This was not going as Jon had hoped. “I beg your forbearance,

brothers. Each of these men has a weapon, like this one. I can assure

you, if they had any plans to do harm, they would have abducted or killed me upon exiting the wilder lands. Instead, they have camped

there, awaiting a response. They are hoping, as am I, to establish

peace and trust between our peoples. I am a hunter. I have smelled

the threat of the great bear. I have eluded the stalking of the great

cat. I have, like you, walked among the asps of the wilderness

without receiving their poisonous bite. I have taken great care to

discern the heart and minds of these strangers. I have concluded

they mean us no harm. Will the council suffer me the opportunity to

prove this by taking a small delegation to meet Grabor and his crew?”

As he spoke, Jon noticed that Jason’s face had softened, satisfied

that he had inserted himself into the debate so strongly. As he had

hoped, others within the council were sufficiently curious about this revelation of life beyond their borders. After some intense

discussion, it was finally decided. Jon would be accompanied by

seven of the elders and their sons to meet this group of strangers.

An oxcart would be utilized to carry provisions from which the

strangers could fill their packs. Runners would be sent to each of the

four other villages of Quinland to inform the elder hunters. An

invitation would be offered for them to join the council of peace with

numbers equal to their own village.

As the council adjourned, Jerome rose from his chair. “I would

speak with you, Jon.” He took him by the shoulder and retreated

across the room. “The danger you have brought upon us is great. We

can only hope that the result of the council of peace will mean the

advancement of our people. Tomorrow, I must hold parley with the

P a g e | 26

elder keepers, veggies and woodsmen. No doubt, they will react with

greater caution than the hunters. Our weapon skills are so much

greater. Did I understand correctly that there is a large cache of these

weapons that will become available to us?”

Jon could tell by the twitch at the corner of Jerome’s mouth and

the way he raised his eyebrows that there was a plan being conjured

in the old man’s mind. “I am an old man, Jon, and my days are numbered. I never

dreamed I would see beyond the borders of Quinland. Your shared

stories have given me much to ponder. Rest well, my brother.”

Jerome stepped carefully to his chair and settled himself, so the

men could raise the poles to their shoulders and carry their elder

home.

Each man left in excited conversation with another. Jason stayed

behind to accompany Jon to his house, hoping to learn more of these

strangers and their purpose. As they walked, Jon shared everything

he could remember of the stories that Grandor told him. As they

approached his house, Jason clapped Jon on the shoulder and said,

“Brother, I envy you. Your name will be remembered, and stories will be told of this day for generations.” With that, he took his leave.

Jon approached his house, which was dark and quiet, making

every effort to not disturb his family. The excitement of the day, with

thoughts flying through his mind concerning the upcoming council

of peace, would keep him awake for hours. As he unlatched the door,

having removed his boots on the porch, he noticed a shadowy figure

approaching from the kitchen. The moon, shining through the front

window, revealed his Sage. There were tears in her eyes.

“I thought I’d never see you again when you left to enter the

forbidden.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him

in for a kiss. “The children are settled and sleeping. Come to bed,

my love.”

CHAPTER 5

rindol shifted his weight from left to right. He was the last

watch for the night. The sun had risen, and the other men had

begun to stir, stoking the fire to heat water for tea. His belly

was empty and growling. “I hope these villagers bring something fit

to eat,” he thought. “I am famished.” The crew had finished the

last of the venison the previous night. There was barely a crust of

barley bread remaining among their provisions and it was long stale.

He saw the line of men crest the hill and whistled an alert to the

rest of the camp. Grandor jogged to his side.

“How many men do you see?”

Grindol squinted. “It is difficult to see them clearly from here.” The sun had yet to rise above the forest behind them. “They

approach in five groups, spread across the hill.”

The rest of the men joined the watch. Grabor had ordered them

to leave all weapons in their camp to avoid any appearance of a

threat. Greck had met this order with a surprising outburst of

disagreement. After the outburst, Greck and Grabor had retreated

down the path into the woods. When they returned, Greck was grim.

Grabor followed at a distance.

“I repent of my disrespect for our captain, men. I allowed my

distrust of these strangers to overcome my confidence in the wisdom

of our leader.” He turned and nodded at Grabor, who, then, joined

the watch.

G

P a g e | 28

The five groups halted their approach a bowshot away. Two men

from each group then came forward. Grandor recognized Jon’s gait

as they approached. He looked to his father and they advanced,

together with Greck.

“Greetings, traveler,” Grabor said, extending his hand to Jon. “We

are happy to see this company of men who accompany you.” He

bowed at the waist, then stood at attention. With a regal flourish he

announced, “I am Grabor, son of Granthor. I bring you greetings

from the coastal kingdom of Goldsur, supreme and exalted among

our people. Your brother, Jon, has borne witness to the honor and

kindness of the villages of Quinland. Your willingness to grant us a visitation has brought praise and honor to the Lords of land and sea.”

He bowed again and stood.

The ten representatives of Quinland bowed at the waist,

acknowledging Grabor with respect. Each spoke, in turn, bringing

greeting from their village council of hunters. Jon nodded to Grabor,

“Honorable Grabor, son of Granthor, we have elected, together, to

meet in a council of peace, hoping to establish a right relationship

with your people and determine what mutual benefit we may enjoy

in the future.”

The sons of the elders quickly set up a large tent for the council of

peace. It was a welcome respite from the sun that had risen to

midday by the time the preparations had been completed. An oxcart

of supplies arrived with barrels of beer, casks of wine and spring water, brought as a gift from the village of New Spring. Loaves of

bread, cured venison, dried fish and smoked wild hams were spread

across linens that had been laid out across the grass to the east of the

tent. Each of the villagers, urged the strangers to eat their fill,

showing preference to them at every opportunity.

P a g e | 29

Late in the afternoon, after everyone had eaten and rested, a horn

blast was sounded to indicate the gathering of the council of peace.

Each group of village elders sat together in a semi-circular

arrangement, facing a small dais with a lectern.

Jon stood on the dais and raised his right hand. The crowd fell silent.

“Honored elders of Quinland and citizens of the coastal kingdom. I

stand before you, today, humbly requesting your patience as I take a few moments at the beginning of this council of peace to share, in

summary, my story. Every elder in attendance knows of my

disappearance, at the age of twelve. I had wandered far to the east

and found myself in the forbidden, being pursued by something that

remains a mystery. Memories of that day have begun to return to

me, and I realize now that I ran into a wall that was hidden behind a

hedge of some sort. When I awoke, lying in a bed in our villages

house of healing, I was covered in wounds that scar my body to this

day. My dreams and memories drove me to return to the forbidden.”

A chorus of gasps erupted from among the villagers. Jon paused

swallowed hard and then cleared his throat. Entering the forbidden

was punishable by caning. He had never heard of an elder guilty of more than cursing in public, which was strictly forbidden and carried

the public shaming of being tied to a pole overnight in the village

square.

His voice trembled as he continued. “While I was picking my way

through the dense woods to our east, Grandor, who was scouting

ahead for our guests, observed me and followed me for a time. He

alerted the rest of his group and they began pursuing me through the

woods.” Jon continued to relate to the crowd what had brought them

to this point. He showed the gathering the weapon that had been

given as an offering of trust and peace, assuring them of an

opportunity to examine the weapon and see a demonstration of its

workings by their guests. There was an excited murmur at the

declaration. He had his suspicions that the council of elders of his

P a g e | 30

village had spread the word concerning the weapon. He was

particularly suspicious of Jason, who was very concerned about

establishing a name and reputation equal to his father, Elder Jordan.

When Jon completed his story, he invited Grabor to the dais and

asked him to share his story.

Grabor came to the dais, flanked by his first-officer, Greck, and his

eldest son, Grandor. As he stepped onto the stage, Greck and Grandor posted themselves on each end of the stage and faced the elders.

Grabor bowed at the waist and began.

“In great humility, I stand before you, today, and raise my eyes to

the heavens. I ask the Lords of land and sea to guide and bless these

proceedings. I intercede for the land of Quinland, asking the Lords

to richly prosper the people and to make your harvests fruitful and

your hunts plentiful.” There was a smattering of applause from the

Quinlanders, impressed that this stranger shared their knowledge

and belief of the Creators.

“I confess that I will require your patience. I am a man of the sea. I

am used to leading a group of men as captain of a vessel. That does

not require me to stand before a gathering such as this. My wisdom and experience are with navigation and nets, not as an orator or a

teacher. I will, as requested, share a summary of the circumstance

that brought us inland from our fair coastal kingdom.”

“It has been six courses of the face of the night, what Jon has told

me you know as the Luna, since a woman of our country found a

corpse in the river. It was the corpse of a man, slight of build, with

hair the color of the night. His dress was very strange. His cloak,

vestment, and leggings were a tightly woven fabric of a type we have

never seen before. He wore gloves, which Jon has examined, that

were a soft hide the color of night and lined with what appears to be

the fur of a hare of the woodlands.” There was murmuring among

the elders at this point, so Grabor assured them all that he would

provide an opportunity to examine the gloves.

P a g e | 31

“This discovery created a disturbance among the people. He was not

from among the coastlanders. That was obvious. In short, it was

determined that our crew would follow the course of the river, you

call Tannin, in hopes of discovering where this man made his home.

We left the coastland, with much fanfare, a party of eighteen men.

We had provisioned ourselves heavily because we were not aware of

the length of our journey. Over these months of travel, we have lost six men to disease, animal attack, the bite of a poisonous water asp

and one desertion, I am sorely burdened to report. Desertion and

mutiny are the most dishonorable offenses among our countrymen.

Our travels have been fruitless, save for the discovery of the cache of

weapons we discovered. That was half a course ago. Then three suns

ago, Grandor observed Jon traveling through the forest, alone. We

pursued him, believing we had finally come to the home of the dead

stranger. He eluded us, quite skillfully. We are not skilled woodsmen

or hunters. One of my men has taken a special interest in the

workings of these strange weapons and had the skill to take down a

large hart along the river. Tired and hungry, we returned to our

encampment. It was only the call of nature that allowed me to stumble upon Jon, who was observing our camp. I believe you know

the rest, save the fact that we are disappointed to report that we have

yet to discover the land of our dead stranger and we are pressed to

return to the sea. Our people depend on my crew during the season

of sea harvest, when the great fish of the deep are plentiful along our

coast. We come to this fair land and people, only asking for the aid

of provision that we might turn our course toward home.”

“What of the weapons?” an elder shouted from among the villagers.

“It was reported that our hunters would all receive a magnificent

weapon that will spear our prey across the length of a field.”

Both Greck and Grandor tensed at the outburst. They laid their hands

on their long knives that were sheathed under their cloaks. Jon,

embarrassed by the outburst, was cursing Jason under his breath for

P a g e | 32

his loose tongue and ability to exaggerate. He stood to his feet,

attempting to quiet those around him. His eyes met Jason’s. He was

seated at the fringe of his village elder section, a look of satisfaction

on his face.

Grabor raised his hands and his voice, looking in the direction of the

one who spoke. “I am an honorable man. I claim Jon as my witness

and ally to this fact. It has been promised that we will show your people the location of this cache. I believe there are plenty of these

weapons held there to place in the hands of every elder in our present

company.”

Jon felt the eyes of everyone on him. He had never wanted to be a

leader. His father, Jerard, like Jason’s father, Jordan, had established

himself as a highly respected elder. Jon’s disappearance into the

forbidden, at the age of twelve, had created some controversy, but,

in the end, the story of Jon’s return had lent Jerard a certain mystique

among the hunters.

Still standing, Jon continued to scan the crowd and spoke. “I beg

your patience, Grabor, for this outburst from among the elders. It is

not the custom for speakers to be interrupted. I ask my brethren to refrain. I also, humbly, accept your appellation as ‘witness and ally.’

Every action you have taken has been honorable in my view. Though

I originally allowed my surprise and fear to drive me to flee from

your presence, I emphasize for my brethren, again, your hospitality

and demonstration of good faith in the sharing of a weapon with

me.”

Grabor bowed smartly and stepped down from the dais. Greck and

Grandor fell in behind him. The entire crew stood erect, with heads

bowed, until their captain reached his seat and Greck commanded,

“Be seated.”

At this point, Jerome, who had remained silent thus far, rose from

his chair and, with assistance, stepped to the dais. “My brothers,

like all of you, I am cautious. Until two suns ago, I was ignorant of

P a g e | 33

the now obvious breadth of the land beyond our borders. I have heard

and repeated the old stories of those who entered the forbidden to

never return. I stood by Elder Jerard in wonder at the return of his

son, Jon, many years ago. Everything about our guests is surprising

and mysterious. Their very presence will change the course of our

future. The possibility of possessing the weapons they carry will also

change the course of the hunters. However, I can also discern the dangers that will be awakened in the minds of those who possess

such a powerful force.”

At this point, there was a wave of sighs that passed through the

gathering, realizing the weight of responsibility of such a sudden

advance among the villagers. Jerome, nodded, continuing, “I turn to

you, captain Grabor, and offer my hand of fellowship and peace. My

greatest hope is that the seeds of peace that are planted, this day, do

not grow to yield the fruit of despair. Please, do not misunderstand

my caution as anything but concern for the future of both our

peoples. I am trusting the Lords of land…and sea will guide us in

peace and purpose as we walk together into an unknown future.”

Grabor stood erect, placed his hand over his heart, knelt onto his right knee and declared loudly, “So be it.” Immediately, the entire

crew followed his example.

Jerome smiled, stepped down from the dais, and shuffled over to

stand before Grabor. “I am sorry, captain Grabor, but my frailty

forbids me to kneel. I place my hand over my heart and declare with

you, ‘So be it.” Each village section rose and repeated the actions

and pledge of their leaders. The entire company then stood and

shouted, “The Lords be praised!”

Jerome then spoke somberly, “I declare this council of peace

completed. Our guests are no longer strangers. They are brothers.

May our caution flower into trust and may the fruit of peace flourish

among our peoples.”

CHAPTER 6

elebration fires burned late into the night. The young hunters

played their flutes and sang story-songs of past hunts and

adventures. Grandor sang a sampling of the sailing songs that

recalled great catches, tales of storms and great creatures of the sea.

O, the deep! O, the deep!

From where come the wave,

Our fallen vessels keep.

O, the deep! O, the deep!

Great creatures pursue victims,

With mighty tails, they sweep. O, the deep! O, the deep!

Lords from hidden dangers,

Our captain’s families keep.

O, the deep! O, the deep.

There was a somber tone to many of the songs Grandor shared,

leaving one feeling helpless in the face of the challenges of life on

the coast and on the open sea. It was clear to Jon; the tragedy and

triumph of each group’s songs were a lesson in culture and history

to all who listened. Tears were shed as tragic stories of loss were

shared. Grandor was especially moved by the story of Jon’s

disappearance and return, originally shared by his mother. It became

C

P a g e | 35

an important lesson of the unknown dangers that lurked within the

forbidden and all children of Quinland were required to memorize

the narrative and retell it to their community during the Autumnal

festival as a dramatic presentation. Jon made every effort to bow out,

every year, but he was asked to sit in a place of honor during this

peak of the Autumnal celebration.

The merry-making lasted past the fall of the night water, so the large tent was transformed into a sleeping shelter. It was a welcome relief

from the heavy dew and unusual chill that descended upon the camp

that sat between the wilderlands and a tall rise of land.

Jon’s sleep was fitful. The events of the past quarter-course were

flowing across his mind and causing him to tumble around through

the night. His life would be transformed in many ways, he knew.

Before he faded into sleep, he spied Jason shaking a few of the village

elders awake, whispering and exiting the tent.

Early the following day, the groups of elders gathered to witness a

demonstration of the weapon. Grindol and Grandor, with the help of

their crew, had dragged a fallen log from the edge of the wilderlands

and set up a variety of elements to shoot from a distance. The elders watched closely as the men inserted the projectiles into grey

receptacles that were constructed from a strange material the

coastlanders called “cartridges.” The cartridges were then inserted

into the underbelly of the weapon, after which the men took aim and

pulled the “trigger” to throw, with explosive force, the projectile.

The sound of the weapon caused the men’s ears to buzz like a

stinging fly was circling their heads. Many of the men began to hold

their hands over their ears as they watched.

Jon noticed that Grandor was keeping a close eye on him. He caught

his gaze at nearly every turn. Late in the morning, he observed

Grabor and Grandor in an animated discussion, both holding Jon

within their gaze. They nodded at Jon and Grandor walked away in

the direction of their encampment. Grabor then waved Jon over,

P a g e | 36

“Jon, my friend, if you would join me in consultation, I would be

grateful.”

As Jon approached, Grabor arose and, with a wave of his hand, invited

Jon to walk with him. “Jon, I am an old man compared to most of

my kindred. Seafaring is a dangerous way of life. Many men do not

live to see forty cycles of life. I have been blessed by the Lords to

escape much of the usual pains of this life, but I am beginning to feel my age within my bones. When our crew returns home, I will begin

to prepare to give more responsibility to my sons. Grandor has

proposed something that complicates this transition. He wishes to

remain here. Your story of survival in the forbidden has enchanted

him. He proposes that he stay and continue the search for the home

of the stranger we found in the river. He hopes that you will join him

on this quest, be his guide and assist in teaching him the ways of the

hunters. He believes the Lords have brought us together because our

journey is in some way attached to your desire to find the place where

you disappeared.” Grabor fell silent as they reached the peak of the

rise. From this vantage point, he was able to see the acres of

croplands that surrounded Jon’s village. “What say you, my friend? I am obviously pained at the thought of departing without my oldest

son and heir. However, he is more insistent in this matter than I

have ever seen him be.”

Jon stood, gazing over the fields, pondering the surprising news that

Grabor had just delivered. He had several questions for Grandor and

Grabor both about this matter. He certainly could not make such a

commitment without consultation with his village elders. His

thoughts concerning how Sage would react to the news, particularly

the continued quest, were far from pleasant. She was enormously

patient, but such a plan would certainly put that patience to the test.

“I think it important to consult with the elders of my village before I

would submit to such a commitment.” He chose to leave out the

detail of convincing his wife. Grabor had not even mentioned his

P a g e | 37

wife in conversation. Jon did not want to appear weak. “There would

be the matter of what Grandor might contribute to our community

while preparations were made for the continuation of the quest.

None of the villages are prosperous in the sense of having much

extra. That was one of my motivations for attempting to locate the

wall from my memories, to discover something, I do not know what,

that might help us thrive more than survive.” “Those are fair observations, Jon. I can assure you that Grandor is

no sluggard. He has proven to be one of the most valuable members

of my crew. I say that, not because he is my eldest son, but because

it is true. He is quick to learn and gifted to discern. That is why I

have not just excused this as a flight of fancy. He is still young and

has the wisdom of years to accumulate, but he is sufficiently cautious

in the face of any challenge. Since he discovered you in what your

people call the forbidden, something has changed within him. We

will take the time to consult together with the village elders, but I am

convinced that he has set his course, whether you intend to join him

or not. That is one reason I am concerned.”

There was an eruption of voices from below. Jon spun around and saw Grandor and Jason emerging from the trees. Jason’s hands were

bound in front of him. Grandor was holding the end of the rope,

leading him toward the men still gathered and observing the use of

the weapons. “What has Jason done, now!” Jon exclaimed, sprinting

down the slope toward the crowd.

By the time Jason reached the others, voices were raised in dispute.

Grandor stood with Jason, surrounded by the rest of his crew. The

villagers had surrounded him and were shouting. It was near chaos.

There was nothing he could say or do to quiet them. He feared that

blood may be shed and the fragile peace from last night would be

lost.

Suddenly, someone behind him discharged one of the weapons.

Everyone turned, shocked to see Jerome, holding the weapon aloft

P a g e | 38

discharging it again into the air. An instant quiet fell over the crowd.

“Elders of Quinland, retreat to the tent. I will consult with our new

friend Grandor concerning Jason. We will return to you when we

have sorted out the happenings in the wilderlands between the two

of them.”

There were a few protestations, which Jerome waved off and shook

his head. The villagers dispersed, recovering their belongings from the grass and retreating to the tent.

Grabor rounded the corner of the tent, red in the face, panting from

the descent of the hill. He looked at his men, circling Grandor and

Jason. He then looked at Jerome and knelt beside him, catching his

breath to speak. “My honored friend, I am shocked to see you armed.

What has become of our peace? What has happened between my son

and this elder of the village?”

“Grabor, I assure you, I have not taken up arms against your men. I

discharged the weapon into the heavens to quiet the din of the crowd,

so I might be heard. Now, we must consult together about why your

eldest son has a respected elder of Quinland tied like a disobedient

beast.” Grabor paused and considered. “Men return to our encampment.

Greck, remain here that we might sort these matters.”

“I caught him rummaging through our belongings at our

encampment,” Grandor stated flatly. “When I confronted him, he

rushed me wildly. I avoided his fists and tripped him into a tree.

That is when he bloodied and bruised his nose and eye.”

Jerome cleared his throat and took a breath. “Is this a true witness,

Jason?”

“Yes. I had grown tired of the noise of the weapons and decided to take a walk. I stumbled across their camp and was curious. It was

not my intent to take what was not mine. I wanted to take a closer

P a g e | 39

look at the gloves that were recovered from the corpse in the river.”

He dropped his head. “I did not intend to fight him. I was frightened

at what he might do to me, so I thought I would give him a scare and

flee to the group.”

Grabor spoke up. “Most honored Jerome, I see no reason to prolong

this interrogation. I am sure elder Jason is innocent of anything that

arises beyond a misunderstanding. Grandor, untie the man and allow him his freedom.”

Jon looked on, appreciating the trust exhibited by Grabor, though he

felt it was misplaced. Jason was on an errand in the encampment, of

that he was sure. The question in his mind was the nature of the task

and who ordered it. Quite possibly, Jason was, once again, trying to

impress some of the other elders with what he might discover among

the belongings of the coastlanders. Whatever the case, what little

trust he had in Jason was quickly waning.

Grandor looked to his father, a puzzlement across his face. He had

not taken the time to inspect their belongings to see if there was

anything missing. Jason had insisted from the time he had recovered

consciousness that he was not there to take anything, just curious, but Grandor got the sense from Jon’s reaction that Jason was not a

man to be trusted. Grabor nodded smartly and Grandor began to

loosen the binding around Jason’s hands.

“Leave him tied, young man,” Jerome said, with reservation.

“Grabor, I discern and appreciate your continued attempt to

demonstrate faith in the peace to which our peoples have committed.

However, Jason has exhibited a lack of judgment and taken actions

unbecoming an elder of our people. This is not something we take

lightly. The weight of trust upon us is such that he must stand in the

village square and give an answer before every elder class. We did

not invite the elders representing the shopkeepers and cultivators

among us. He will remain tied for now. When we return, we will call

a general council and he will explain himself.” Jerome’s eyes were

P a g e | 40

piercing into Jason at this point. “My brother, you have dishonored

our guests and have dishonored our people with your actions.

Whether your intent was good, or evil is still to be determined, in my

opinion. Your curiosity has threatened the lives of everyone present

here. Now, Jon, take custody of our brother while I go and explain to

the gathered elders what has been decided.”

Jason attempted protests were quickly squelched by another piercing gaze from Jerome. “Keep your peace, Jason. I expect you to behave

as an elder, not a petulant child! You will have your opportunity to

speak, but not here…not now.”

After Jerome entered the tent, two of the elder’s sons came and took

custody of Jason. Jon looked at Grabor and Grandor, “I am truly

grieved over his behavior. As Jerome has explained, our elders are

held to a high standard. We are to live our lives as unto the Lords,

holding ourselves as worthy of the trust of our people. We are not

just seen as decision makers, but also as spiritual leaders. There is

little patience among our people for misbehavior among the elders.”

Grabor nodded, “Jason’s curiosity, if that is what truly motivated

him, is understood. We are still strangers in many ways. We trust that your elders will grant him justice and mercy. Now, I do believe

I have recovered from my run down the hill. Shall we retreat together

and consider Grandor’s proposal to stay more completely?”

CHAPTER 7

fter much counsel with Grabor and Grandor, Jon took the

matter to Jerome, who was preparing to return home. He did

not seem too surprised by the news. “I have seen and heard

more than you might think over the past two days, my brother,” was

his only response when questioned concerning his knowledge or

suspicion. He supported the idea and welcomed the opportunity to

confer with the other elders before his departure. At that meeting,

there were obvious concerns about housing, food and fruitful

participation in the community. Other than that, there were no

serious objections to welcoming Grandor into the village. His

promise to share his knowledge and expertise in the use of the weapons was as well received as any mention of boat construction

and soil improvement techniques among the cultivators. He had

spent time assisting a coastland family to restore their farmland

after a severe cyclone had battered the coast and decimated the

croplands in the area.

While the discussion of Grandor staying was occupying the elders

and Grabor, Greck set about drawing a simple map to the location of

the weapon cache. The plan was proposed that a group of elders and

sons would accompany the coastlanders along the river route until

the path to the coast and the path to the cache diverged. This

required an accounting of supplies and the retrieval of more food

A

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from the villages to assure the two groups were equipped for the

journey ahead.

Jon accompanied this group since he needed to affirm and inform his

wife of the guest who would be coming to the village. He would save

discussion of the planned joint quest for a later time.

Jason’s fate was not comfortable. He was returned to the village on

the resupply run and left bound to a pole in the village square. Three of the brothers were posted in a rotation to guard him until the full

group of elders returned from the council of peace, not to count those

who had been sent to retrieve the weapons. Because of this, his wife

and children were left to bear the shame of supplying him sustenance

and comfort before the entire village.

The day of departure arrived too quickly for Grabor. He was proud of

Grandor’s desire to satisfy his need to complete the quest with which

they were charged. “My son, I know that your fate is in the hands of

the Lords, so I worry not. My only fear is that we may never stand

face to face, again. We may never share the joy of conquering the

threat of wind and waves. We may never bow in prayer at the passing

of the sun into the night. I am burdened with the thought that my eyes may close, forever sleeping, without me having the opportunity

to bless you with my dying breath. So, I bless you, now, my son. I

pray you will bring honor to the ancestors who have journeyed this

road before us. May the blessing of the Lords make your path

straight and your enemies tremble. You are my eldest, my first-born.

I take great pleasure in the joy I remember at your birth. May your

joys be multiplied on this journey. May your success bring you

honor. May your life reflect the goodness of our Lords, the makers

of land and of the sea. So be it!” With that Grabor embraced Grandor,

then looked him in the eyes and smiled, turning up the path into the

wilderlands. Greck and the rest of the coastlanders embraced

Grandor, speaking peace over him, as they left, stepping in single file

behind their captain.

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Jon watched as the elder hunters joined the line, singing a familiar

tune of departure that every hunter learned from his father.

As we depart and go our way

Worry not or dread the day.

We journey out into the wild

To hunt, provide for wife and child. We, brothers, all commit ourselves

To stock our cabinets and our shelves.

We dare not stay, we dare not wait

With sharpened spear, we seal our fate.

When we return, O happy then

Will be our home and all our kin.

Jon joined in the song, his heart surging with the same feeling of

anticipation that always came at the beginning of a hunt-quest. He

choked at the memory of being invited for the first time by his father

to join a hunt that lasted longer than a day. As was the case with

every male child that was born into a hunting family, it was a rite of passage and a time of great fanfare in the home. He wondered again

how the new weapons would change Quinland. A feeling of

foreboding came over him. He turned and saw that Grandor was

watching and listening intently.

“Well, Grandor, a new journey has begun for both our peoples.”

“Aye.”

They both retrieved their packs and their rifles and turned as the sun

dipped behind the trees of the wilderlands, casting its shadow on

their path up the hill towards the village.

CHAPTER 8

on and Grandor took their time walking to the village. The evening

was clear and comfortable, making the long walk more bearable.

The larger group of elders and sons outpaced them, and their

torches shrank into the distance. The face of Luna was full in the sky

and the well-traveled path, lined on each side with stone gathered

from the surrounding cultivated fields over many cycles. Grandor

seemed distracted throughout the journey and became more uneasy

as they drew nearer the village.

A group of three torches came into view, carried by men who were

obviously running through the night. As they approached the leader

of the group shouted excitedly, “Elder Jon, have you seen anyone return this way? It has been discovered that Elder Jason was released

from his bonds and escaped. One, of the three guards, is a

confederate of his and has assisted in his flight from justice.”

“Were there any indications of the direction he is traveling?” Jon

asked.

“The village is in chaos at this point, sir. Groups, like ours, have

fanned out in every direction there is an easily traveled path, looking

for indications. Of course, it will be difficult to see any signs in the

darkness.”

“What of his family?” Jon was curious to know if any members of

Jason’s family were directly involved in his escape, or if they had paid

others to assist. Jason’s family was wealthier than most in Quinland.

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P a g e | 45

For generations, his family had been led by elders who were shrewd

managers of the family’s belongings. When they believed it

necessary, they used their economic advantage to exercise influence

over several of the less fortunate of the families of Quinland.

“Before we were dispatched, I was told that the members of his

immediate family were all accounted for. There is a group of elder-

guard that have entered the family’s compound and are inspecting each home, as we speak. We must continue our search. Safe travels,

sir.”

“The Lords be with you, brothers.”

Jon turned to Grandor who was deep in thought. Catching Jon’s gaze,

he asked, “Were any of Jason’s brethren sent to retrieve weapons

from the cache?”

“In fact, none were permitted to travel in that group. Jerome

believed it important to have all of Jason’s brethren present for his

inquest. I have an inkling, he was also suspicious of their

involvement in a plot to obtain more than their fair share of weapons.

His family has been known to exert great care in obtaining the

advantage in most dealings.” Jon stared into the surrounding fields. “Do we continue into the village, then? I am at your disposal and

willing to assist in any manner possible. I will follow your lead.”

“Hours of darkness remain. Even though Luna shines in full,

tonight, searching for clues will be pointless. I would surmise that

Jason will avoid the main roads. He may even still be in his family

compound. It is the oldest in the village. I would not be surprised if

there were not vermin tunnels in which he can hide.” Grandor

laughed at the comparison. He would never have spoken of a village

elder as vermin, but he felt that Jason fit the comparison well. “We

will proceed into the village and report to the watch that we will be

available early to assist in any organized search. I am eager to see

my family and I am eager for them to become acquainted with my

new brother, Grandor. The children will be delighted to have another

P a g e | 46

man around to pester with questions about what lies beyond the

perimeter of the village. The boys have yet to arrive at the ‘age of

exit,’ the time at which they are allowed to accompany me on hunts.

Of course, my oldest is a female and will learn to enjoy the life of

serving the home. She fancies herself a young hunter, though, and

asks often to follow the trail of the hunter.”

“There is a village within the coastland kingdom that has allowed women who desire to live the life of the sea, joining crews among the

men. They are few, however. The heavy responsibility of serving on

the deck of a boat on the ocean is often much too difficult for the

women of our society to bear. Those who have succeeded are held in

high esteem among men and women, alike.”

After reporting their availability to the village watch, Jon led Grandor

to his house on the southeast edge of the village. Sage had left a plate

of bread and buttercream on the table. Jon judged that Sage had awaited their arrival until late into the night from the height of the

candle that was left burning on the table. She had arranged bedding

in an outer room for Grandor’s comfort. The men ate the bread and

had a long drink of water, retiring to rest until dawn.

Jon was awakened by squeals from the front room. He was delighted

to hear Sage’s voice, quieting the children who were waiting for their

father to rise and awaken their guest. Jon felt weary. The events of

the quarter cycle had denied him rest. In most cases, he had

remained awake deep in thought rather than sleeping. He

anticipated that the pattern would remain as they participated in the

search and pursuit of the escapee, Jason.

More intense squeals and a male voice indicated to Jon that it was

time to rise. As he exited his room, he spied the children, surrounding Grandor, already peppering him with questions. He was

relieved to see that they had listened when he told them there was

P a g e | 47

nothing to fear from Grandor who was coming to become a member

of their family for a time.

“Why are your hair and beard red? We have never seen anyone as

fair-skinned as you. Do you never venture out into the light of the

sun?” Jon recognized the voice of his son, Jenson, who tended to be

the boldest in his questioning.

“Children! Do not become a burden with your questions so early. Grandor will be with us for a long while. There will be abundant

opportunity for you to learn about his customs and character. I smell

something good being made for our morning repast. Go help your

mother make the table ready.” The three children, grudgingly,

obeyed Jon and left the sitting room.

“Your children are delightful, Jon. They make me wonder why I am

still waiting to be joined to a wife. Unlike many within our village,

my father has not been quick to require my joining from among the

clan. He is more liberal than most with allowing me to pursue my

own way.”

“Gentlemen, please come and take your place at the table,” Sage

invited. “I am fearful the meal will not impress if it is allowed to cool.”

“I’m sure she has been fretting about what to feed you since I

delivered the news of your arrival,” Jon whispered.

“I heard that husband,” Sage bantered as Jon and Grandor entered

the room. “I will pepper your tea if you keep it up!” The children

and Jon laughed heartily. Sage’s laughter was music to his ears. The

thought of a quick departure weighed heavily on him.

The conversation was light as the hungry men enjoyed the

homecooked meal. Sage beamed at the flow of comments that came

from Grandor’s end of the table. He had been long on the trail, eating

stale bread and old provisions. The fresh eggs, boiled oats, and fresh

bread, not to mention the smoked venison sausage was a welcome

change. He took great care to compliment the cook and eat heartily.

P a g e | 48

He knew that the pursuit of Jason may take him and Jon away to the

trail much too soon. He took pleasure in making every moment a

positive one for his kind hosts and their kin.

Finally, when the children were excused to morning chores, Sage

acknowledged that she had heard the shouting late into the night and

saw the men with torches passing among the family compounds.

“What is happening, Jon? Why the commotion that continued late into the night?”

Jon explained that Jason had been bound in the village square to

await an inquest related to his activities surrounding the peace

council. His surprise escape, during the night, was no small matter.

The evidence suggested that he had been released by one the guards.

“The watchmen will expect us to join the search soon,” Jon

confessed. “I am sorry to say that I am not sure how long we will

participate in the pursuit. We will go to the square and learn what

we can and return for provisions.”

“No rest for the weary, I guess.” Sage hugged Jon close. Grandor

excused himself and went to gather his pack and cloak. “Grandor is

a pleasant man. You could learn a thing or two from him about complimenting the cook,” she chided and laughed, hugging Jon close

again. “I am grieved that you will return to the trail so soon after

your return, but such is the life of an elder.”

“I am praying that this pursuit will be dispatched quickly. Jason

cannot have gotten far. The search began immediately. Of course,

we are not sure how long he had been gone. The bulk of the elders

returned and discovered the escape two hours after the change of

guard.”

Grandor came into the room, cloaked and ready to leave. “I will wait

outside, Jon. I would like to look around your property quickly if you

give me leave.”

“That is acceptable, Grandor. I will gather myself as qu