Read Halfstone: A Tale of the Narathlands Online
Authors: Daniel White
Halfstone: A Tale of the Narathlands
Copyright © 2016 Daniel White
All
rights reserved.
ISBN:
978-0-473-34822-9
Edited
by Patricia Murphy and David Calver
Cover
design by Ihor Tureha
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or
used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
or actual events is purely coincidental.
For
you.
A few strands of the sun’s last light caught evening mist. The
remainder of the clearing was shrouded by the enclosing forest. It had always
been a favourite location for Aldrick and his brother, Kaal, to visit while
they were hunting. Often hungry rabbits and boar would forage among the
brambles and tussocks that scattered the ground within. Today Aldrick was
alone, as Kaal had remained behind to help their father, Braem, herd sheep on
the farm. Equipped with a modestly crafted bow and a small number of arrows, Aldrick
had left the house intent on scouting the weatherworn peaks of the Mountains
Rain. These served as a colossal backdrop to the farm, which stretched down the
lower, more fertile slopes of the mountains and beheld the tender coastline of
the Remnan Ocean. It was a lengthy venture to the peaks and upon realising the
time of day, Aldrick had wagered that he would not make it there and back again
before nightfall. Instead, he chose to visit the clearing as it was no more
than a half-hour walk away, nestled in the bowl of a small glacier-carved
gully. As the falcon flies it was very close, but a vast cliff face blocked
immediate passage to that part of the forest. The quickest way to reach it was
to walk south through wheat fields, cross a wooden bridge that led into the
forest, then follow a thin path that traced the rim of the cliff into the
mountains, passing close by where the clearing hid.
Aldrick was standing at the edge of the clearing which, until this
day, had felt all too familiar. At present he was frozen to the spot, unable to
move. Something that had never been there before, that he had never laid eyes
on, stood ahead of him—a deathly shadow through the mist. The beast was immense
in comparison with any animal he was familiar with. It towered upon four great
legs at a height clear of twice his own and besieged a ground space of no fewer
than ten huddled stags. Although bulky, its body was sleek and catlike. Deep
black hair composed its entire figure. From within, two narrowed eyes simmered
orange. These were both fixed on him. The only movement in the entire clearing
was the occasional wisp of condensed air from the beast’s nostrils as it
breathed in timely intervals. It was calm, composed. Aldrick was not. He knew
exactly what it was. It was a ka-zchen—an ancient creature of prey, indigenous
to the plains of the distant northern lands. Though they had once roamed wild,
many were broken into servitude and used to slay their masters’ adversaries.
They were coined ‘dark assassins’ as they would dispatch their prey in swift
and ruthless attacks beneath the blanket of night. Aldrick had learnt all this
from Braem when he was a child, ever eager to hear the thrilling tales of the
Narathlands.
His breath was stolen, not from sheer terror alone, but from the
wonder of witnessing such an infamous, now mythical, killing creature. Why was
it here in this forest he knew so well? His mind began to race. What if it was
hunting him? What could he do if it attacked? If it did he would surely make
easy prey. His heart throbbed savagely against his congested chest. This was a
profoundly grim situation. He could run, but how would he possibly lose it if
it pursued? There was no doubting that it would. Maybe he could seek shelter—climb
a tree. He wanted to search for a nearby footing but feared that taking his
eyes off the beast’s own might provoke an attack.
Amidst the shock and fear he remembered his bow was in his hands,
an arrow resting loosely on its grip. An attack was his best option. Not to try
and kill the ka-zchen, for he would surely fail, but simply to distract it and
buy him a few more crucial seconds to flee.
He needed to gather himself. His shot must be swift and the aiming
precise enough to stall any immediate counter attack. There was no room for fault.
The many hours Braem had spent teaching him how to handle his bow would now be
put to the test.
“Be calm,” he told himself.
The knowledge that he was alone, armed only with the bow, was
taunting his confidence. Like the sweat upon his brow he felt the moments
slipping away. It wouldn’t be long before the beast was upon him. His only
chance was now. He took a breath and then in one, fluid movement, lifted the
bow and drew the arrow. With the steel tip aimed between the beast’s fiery eyes
he released the arrow, turned and bolted. He heard a roar and then the thudding
of paws as it came after him. Branches snapped against his body. The ground was
unearthed beneath his feet. His bow and cloak were lost behind him as he fled
from death. Through the trees he sped, the beast in close pursuit. Panic
clotted his mind. He was thinking only of safety, of preservation. He was
struck by the painful realisation that he could not find this at home. He could
not lead the ka-zchen to his family! If it was he the beast was hunting then it
was he who was burdened to see an end to its terror.
Stumbling back upon the forest path, Aldrick reached down and
seized the fallen branch of a dying tree, then wheeled around. The ka-zchen was
seconds from him. It pounced. With all his might he swung the branch, striking the
side of the beast’s head and one of its outstretched claws. The distracted
animal’s hulking shoulder smashed into his chest and he was thrust backwards, toward
the cliff edge. In a desperate attempt to avoid falling to his doom he snatched
at the air for something, anything, to grab hold of, but found nothing. This
was it. This was the end. He began to fall, the ka-zchen toppling over him. In
this instant he jolted to a sudden stop. Hanging down from the edge of the cliff
were some protruding tree roots. Luckily, his arm had found its way into a mesh
of them and his shoulder had caught his weight. He was saved. The ka-zchen, less
fortunate, plummeted toward the ground. Its huge, helpless body struck rocks
beside the streambed and it was no more.
Aldrick’s body ached. His heart burst with every beat. He was
suspended just below the top of the cliff with all of him, save for his lucky
arm, dangling toward the ground. A searing pain erupted in his shoulder. The
speed at which it caught the roots had dealt him damage. One dull predicament
had led him here to the next. He had no strength left in him to climb back to
level ground. Instead, he hung in pain, squinting down at his home far below.
He wanted to call out, but the impact of the ka-zchen’s body had knocked the
wind from his own. For the moment he could do nothing but pray that the tree
roots supporting him would not give way. He let his body relax. Perhaps, he
thought, in time his family would come looking for him, although in reality he
knew there was little chance they would set eyes on the cliff. From the house
he must look no bigger than an ant where he hung, and with the fading light it
was doubtful that he would be distinguishable against the rough and shaded stone.
He was on his own.
The burden of his weight began to take its toll. From a short
distance above him came the muffled snapping sound one hears when pulling plant
from earth. He felt himself dip a small distance. Soon the roots would give way
entirely and fate him to share the ka-zchen’s misfortune.
“No!” he cried defiantly. He would not perish after surviving
those past moments, after having witnessed the most remarkable and unearthly
thing to occupy these lands in recent memory, after having survived it. He had
to find a way back to secure ground. He had to get back atop the ridge. He
would not die now!
Currents of wind began sweeping up the cliff face, swaying his
body where he hung. Let it guide my hand, he thought. He reached up and grasped
at whatever he could. Soon his body was turned, facing the sky, the trees. He
was closer now, the wind his ethereal guide from below. While he climbed his
shoulder throbbed, but he would not give in… almost there. One hand found grass
and leaf. With a great heave the top half of his body resurfaced. His legs
followed. He sprawled his spent body upon the ground and lay there, gasping for
breath. His mind flickered with images of what had just happened. He recalled
first seeing the ka-zchen, then fleeing from it. Falling, climbing… salvation. He
was alive. He was here. The ka-zchen was not; it lay dead below him. It was
over now. He could relax.
Aldrick remained upon the ground for some time, staring blankly
upward. Wind gently rustled through the canopy as dusk seized the day.
Regaining some sense of clarity, he pushed himself to his feet and, with his
left arm supporting his right, made his way slowly down the path. In the
failing light it was difficult to follow, but a familiarity with it and an
unhurried pace made his step true. He had time. So long as he was home soon his
family would not worry for him, though the story he was to tell would bring
more than his own restless night in the household.
He had crossed the bridge and was making his way through the last
wheat field before the house. It stood a modest dwelling, but it was spacious
and sturdy. The walls were built of thick boulders, shaped to fit neatly
together and conserve interior heat. In winter, due to the alpine altitude,
these were required more than for the houses in the coastal village Rain, a
short way to the south. The roofing remained of a likeness— thatched with burly
wooden beams for support. For more than twenty years the house had stood
strong, never once failing to provide ample shelter for his family.
As Aldrick approached, soft orange firelight met him through a gap
between curtains. It was a greater comfort than ever before. He was home. For a
moment he stood at the doorstep, beneath the eminent stars. He was blessed to
be here in this place—with the warmth of a loving family and a sustainable home
at hand. He lifted the latch and entered.
He was welcomed by the sounds and smell of a sumptuous dinner in
preparation. Ahead of him, a lively fire crackled on the hearth and shed light
to all corners of the living room. By it sat Braem and little Bree. They were
in the midst of a playful quarrel. It appeared Bree had hidden something from
Braem and was pressing him to guess its location. Aldrick smiled.
Braem looked up at him. “Ah, Aldrick, returning in time for a meal
I see. Perhaps, if luck was with you, you return with tomorrows?”
“Hello father,” he replied with a wearied voice.
Braem stood, attention falling upon his battered appearance.
“You’re hurt.” He came and showed Aldrick to the fireside. “Seat yourself.”
Seeing his state, Bree abruptly lost her playful mood.
“Aldrick,” she squeaked, eyes fixed upon him with fear and
concern. “Aldrick, what is wrong with you?”
“Bree, go fetch your mother will you, and bring your brother some
water. Now please.” She hastily ran from the room. Braem found a seat and
surveyed Aldrick with calm concern. “Aldrick, what happened out there? You look
a mess.”
“I am mostly all right,” he replied. “I encountered something in
the forest that would easily have finished me had it not been for fortunate
circumstances.” This was the truth; it was not skill that had spared his life.
He had not intended to lead the ka-zchen off the cliff. He had simply ended up
in the right place in the right moment.
“Tell me this wasn’t the work of a boar runt,” Braem said, forcing
a chuckle, “I know they can be a pain.” He frowned. “You are always careful,
though. Your state eludes me.”
“The cause of it will elude you further.”
Bree returned with Phelvara and Kaal close behind her. She handed Aldrick
a mug of cool water before making way for their mother to assess him. Kaal
looked on, also allowing her to speak first.
“Aldrick, oh Aldrick, what is this?!” Phelvara exclaimed in her
motherly, overly fretful voice. She stooped and clutched Aldrick’s good
shoulder tightly, surveying his state. “Are you all right?!”
“Yes, I’m fine. You needn’t worry.” He glanced around at them all.
“I have something to tell you, though.” He hesitated, knowing well that he was
about to incite alarm and quite possibly panic. “It was a ka-zchen.”
There was a deathly silence. No one moved but Bree. She huddled
behind her mother, sensing something was wrong.
“Go to your room, darling,” Phelvara ordered.
Bree grasped her hand. “No, I won’t!”
“It was in that clearing in the forest,” Aldrick continued,
gesturing in the general direction with his free hand. “It was huge. I didn’t
really know what to do. I tried to distract it with an arrow, then ran. It came
at me by the cliff. I managed to hit it with a branch, but it knocked into me
and we both went over the edge. Luckily, I got caught up in some tree roots.”
He felt his heart begin to race again as he relived those moments.
Phelvara turned to Braem. “Braem, a ka-zchen?! No!” Her voice was
shrill. She was in disbelief, hysterics.
Braem looked at her and then back to Aldrick. There was fear in
his eyes. It was a rare sight.
“You are very sure it was a ka-zchen?” he asked.
Aldrick nodded. “I am.”
Braem rested an elbow on the table and stared into the flickering
fire. “This is… bad.”
Kaal now spoke. “A ka-zchen? Like in the old stories? Aren’t they
all dead? No one has seen one in years… not here. Aldrick must be wrong.”