Whispers Of Peace And War

4

4

On his way back to the village, he passed the site of the skirmish. The ground still remained torn and broken, but now he could see signs of other activity. Fresh holes had become scratched into the mounds and new ditches, where animals had foraged for the flesh of the dead. Bones with remnants of flesh had become scattered all around. An arm, nothing more than bone and pieces of sinew lay in his path, still gripping a small battle axe.

Gagging, covering his mouth and nose, Mythrd crouched beside that arm and, with trepidatious fingers, uncurled the bone fingers from the shaft of the axe. Alone, now, without Gythryn by his side, he felt more than a little exposed. Vulnerable. If he met a Traal in daylight, as unusual as that may be, or more Gaeradine searching for their kinfolk, he had nothing to defend himself.

Tumbling away, once he had the axe, he retched but held in the food the old man had cooked. Ripping a clump of grass from the ground, he rubbed the shaft and head of the axe, trying to rid it of any gore that remained. The axe felt heavy, far heavier than a wood axe, but it sat in his hand with a balance that a wood axe did not have.

A wood axe held all the weight at the head, used only for one thing. A battle axe needed to move faster, in many directions. He hefted it, giving several practice swings before examining it closer. The shaft, made from strong oak, was dark and solid. The head had a larger blade to it than a wood axe, curving both ways in a quarter moon shape, with a spike at the other side, to counter the weight of the blade. Intricate carvings festooned the head, of twisting, interlocking ribbons.

Tucking the axe into his belt, he turned away from the battle ground, heading north, up the hill. He should reach the village within the hour, if he pressed hard enough, though he felt reluctant to make haste, lest he reach the village and face the wrath of not only Abbot Llwnthrn, but of his father and mother. His parents were good folk, but times were dark and they would not abide him staying out all night.

It seemed like any other day as Mythrd found the path that lead to Yrstl, well used, with cart ruts on either side of the central raised section. His fingers kept moving to the head of the axe, as he walked, and he realised that carrying the thing, no matter his reasoning, would only raise questions he wasn't certain he wanted to answer. He did like that axe, though.

Before reaching the outskirts of the village, he found one of his and Gythryn's favourite places. A lightning blasted tree that had sat dead and rotting for years, far longer than he had lived. Though it had passed to a point where the rot had slowed and the broken bole of the tree now had a dried solidity to it. The tree, however, had a dip in the top, only reachable by climbing. There, he could hide the axe until he made his way back to Cythrûn Henge.

Once he had hidden the axe, he made his way around the edge of the village, heading towards the modest home of his parents. Even at this early hour, people were already walking the only street of the village. Some heading to the well, at the centre, others moving out to perform their jobs, out in the fields. Still others walked without purpose, enjoying the chill of the morning.

Hiding before taking the last few steps to his home, he waited for a moment where no-one could see him cross the small tap between houses. If he caught it at the right time, his mother would be at the well, picking up fresh water, and his father would have taken his wood axe upon his shoulder, for his day of cutting down trees, far out into the surrounding forest. As the coast cleared, he set himself to move.

"And what, pray tell, do you think you're doing?" He felt a tap from something hard upon his shoulder and turned to find Abbot Llwnthrn glaring at him, her cane in hand. "And where is that lazy Gythryn?"

"Abbot!" Pressing himself back against the wall of the neighbour's house, Mythrd almost squealed in surprise. "I'm just going home. Just that. A lot of things to do, you know? At home."