Cedric of RoseThorn Read online




  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 - The Hermit Forest

  Chapter 2 - Difference of Opinion

  Chapter 3 - A Mysterious Find

  Chapter 4.- The Gold Hills

  Chapter 5 - Woodfolk Village

  Chapter 6 - Early Morning Myst

  Chapter 7 - The Hunt

  Chapter 8 - A Difficult Decision

  Chapter 9 - The Road North

  Chapter 10 - Unfriendly Welcome

  Chapter 11 - Crossing the Bard

  Chapter 12 - Lost Soul

  Chapter 13 - The Road East

  Chapter 14 - Near Miss

  Chapter 15 - GreenMeadows

  Chapter 16 - Room at the Inn

  Chapter 17 - Flight from Town

  Chapter 18 - Curse Bearer

  Chapter 19 - Pondering Luther

  Chapter 20 - Allegiance

  Chapter 21 - Trap

  Chapter 22 - Cross Country

  Chapter 23 - Fate of BlackStone

  Chapter 24 - Strong House

  Chapter 25 - Reunion

  Chapter 26 - Proposal

  Chapter 27 - Three Again

  Chapter 28 - A Light at the Inn

  Chapter 29 - Meet the Woodfolk

  Chapter 30 - Bandit Camp

  Chapter 31 - An Old Friend

  Chapter 32 - Return to the Inn

  Chapter 33 - The Road at Night

  Chapter 34 - Looking for a Plan

  Chapter 35 - The Farmer's Son

  Chapter 36 - Break of Dawn

  Chapter 37 - Back Among Friends

  Chapter 38 - Bandit Once More

  Chapter 39 - Jonas in Trouble

  Chapter 40 - Battle in the Forest

  Chapter 41 - Bad News

  Chapter 42 - The Ones That Got Away

  Glossary

  Chapter 1 - The Hermit Forest

  Cedric hesitated to approach the bed. He was afraid. He felt an icy touch on the back of his neck that ran down his spine. He did not want to move closer. There was a body on the bed, the body of his wife, the Lady Milona. He did not want to see her with the color washed from her face, her cheeks sunken, her limbs stiff. He did not want to remember her this way. But somebody was pushing him forward, somebody stronger than him. Step by step he was being forced closer and closer until he stood next to the bed.

  A hand reached forward and lifted the veil that covered his wife’s face. Cedric gasped. It was his mother.

  “Weep for your mother,” a voice said.

  But Cedric bit his lip and shook his head in defiance. “I will not,” he said with the voice of a child.

  “Then weep for your loss,” the voice said.

  Cedric shook his head. He refused. He closed his eyes. Fought back the tears. Why were they making him stand there and look at the body of his dead mother? He seized on this indignation. A great sadness tried to well up within him. But he held it down. Instead he felt anger rising up. It began to fill the emptiness. He fanned the flames of outrage. How could his mother leave him? Did she not love him? It hurt, but he told himself it didn't. He did not want to be left alone. He fed the angry beast in his heart. How could the Great Father let this happen? How could He take her away from him? It was not fair! Cedric's face reddened. He clenched his fists.

  Over in a a corner of the room, he heard the sound of a child weeping. “Let him cry,” Cedric said to himself, “I will be strong.”

  x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

  Cedric rolled over. His head bumped into something hard. He reached up with his hand, felt wood..... rough wood. He opened his eyes and in the dim firelight saw his hand on the trunk of a large tree. He followed the trunk up until it disappeared in the darkness above. It was nighttime.

  Where am I?

  He looked around, noticed other trees, giant trees with trunks more than a dozen span thick, rising up all around him. Cedric opened his mouth to call for one of his servants when he suddenly realized where he was..... the Hermit Forest, a stand of ancient trees, some as old as the Empire itself, just north and a little west of RoseThorn. His father first brought him here as a boy to hunt boar. Later he came with his brother, Edwin, and his father's men. As he grew older he sometimes came to the forest alone, despite the warnings of his father.

  But how did I get here?

  He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through his right shoulder. He cursed. He had been hurt, possibly wounded. Carefully he lay back down. As the pain subsided, he slowly reached up with his left hand and felt his right shoulder. There was something damp there. He pulled his hand away. Smelled his fingers. It was not the smell of blood, but the stink of some foul-smelling herbs.

  What it this? What has happened?

  Then it came to him. He remembered finding Harold, the old peasant, dead in the guard tower of the castle, then the old woman, Veronica, in the Main Hall of the castle. He recalled how she tried to warn him, but he didn't listen. He remembered the bandits, the treachery of Bane, how he was forced to run and hide in his own castle. Cedric felt shame. He had failed his ancestors, failed his people again. He did not deserve to be called Lord of RoseThorn. Anger rose up in him, enough to cover his shame. The bandits! Bane! He would make them all pay!

  “Dak?!” Cedric called into the darkness.

  But instead of the boy, he heard the voice of a woman. "He is sleeping," she said.

  Cedric did not say anything for a moment. He did not recognize the woman's voice, did not recall anyone being with them when he and Dak escaped the castle. He cocked his head to look over in the direction from which the voice came. He saw a small flame flickering over the glowing embers of a fire a few feet away. He saw someone moving in the dark on the other side of the fire.

  “Who are you?”

  Soft footsteps on the forest floor approached him from behind. Suddenly there was a shadow crouching near him on his right.

  “How do you feel?” a woman asked him.

  “Who are you?” Cedric asked again, peering into the darkness.

  “I am a healer,” she said.

  Finally you have come..... but too late for Milona.

  Cedric had a dozen questions he wanted to ask. But for now he decided to stay focused on what was important.

  "You have seen my wound. How does it look?"

  Cedric felt the woman’s hands on his shoulder. She adjusted bandage there, retied a strip of cloth that was holding it in place.

  “The blade went deep,” the healer said as she worked, “but you were lucky. It missed your bloodway. Of course, if it hadn't missed, you would not be here talking to me now.”

  Cedric smiled. “An old seer once told me..... I will not die at the hands of my enemies.”

  The healer said nothing. She got up, walked back over to the fire, and put several pieces of wood on the fire. In a short while the flames were flickering, lending their light to the place where they were camping. Cedric got his first good look at the woman now. She was tall, wearing a simple, long dress that looked to be made of inexpensive wool. Not unlike what he had seen other healers wear. Her long, dark hair was drawn back. Tied behind her head. It made her face look round. Her features were plain- thin eyebrows, almond eyes set apart by a broad, unattractive nose.

  Not very pretty.

  “How far are we from the castle?” Cedric asked.

  “Two miles,” the healer answered, poking the fire with another piece of wood, then tossing it into the growing flames.

  “You are not worried someone might track us here?” Cedric asked.

  “Most are too superstitious to follow us into this forest,” she paused to look around,

  “Besides from what the boy told me, they probably think you are dead.”

  “What di
d the boy tell you?” Cedric asked.

  “He said you had to escape from the cellars of the castle by a tunnel.”

  "It is true," Cedric said. He remembered the ordeal. "But if they don't find my body, they will come looking for me."

  "There was a fire," the healer said, "I saw it from a distance, but it looked like it consumed all of the castle that was not made of stone."

  Cedric was quiet for a moment.

  "I'm sorry," the healer said.

  "No," Cedric said, "Perhaps it is better this way. Now the bandits will have no use for RoseThorn. They will move on. Then one day the castle can be rebuilt."

  "Perhaps," the healer said.

  Cedric could not believe it. His castle gone? He would have to see it for himself. He remembered how he started a fire with the oil the bandits poured under the pantry door. He had intended to keep them out, but could he somehow have started the fire which consumed the castle? He might never know, but he told himself that it must have been the bandits. Most likely they plundered what they wanted, then lit fires to burn all that remained. He pushed himself up on his elbow on his side. Pain shot through his shoulder. He winced.

  "You should not move so much," the healer said.

  "I cannot lie here while there are bandits roaming my lands," Cedric growled.

  The healer stood up and came over near to Cedric, where she crouched down. “It has been three days since we left the castle and came across the river. Two nights ago there were heavy rains. Dak and I were careful to cover our trail. But if we left any sign, it has been washed away. And now the river is swollen and difficult to cross. They will not find us. Now you need time to recover."

  The healer seemed sure of herself, but Cedric did not want to take any chances. “The traitor who gave me this wound knows my family well,” he said, “I think he will want to see my bones with his own eyes.”

  “Lord Bane?” the healer asked.

  “Yes,” Cedric said, surprised she knew his name. Dak must have told her.

  “I have met him before,” the healer said, “He had a bowel disorder. I gave him some herbs to settle the condition, but they didn’t help him much. I could not cure his foul nature.”

  Cedric chuckled.

  A bowel disorder? He will have more problems than that the next time we meet.

  Suddenly in the distance a wolf howled. They both paused to listen. A few moments later another answered from off in a different direction. Cedric looked at the healer.

  "They came last night," she said, "I think they were just curious."

  "What weapons do you have?" Cedric asked.

  "Only a knife."

  "I brought no sword with me?"

  The healer shook her head. "I'll put more wood on the fire," she said, "They'll not come close to the fire."

  Cedric sighed. He realized he now had more to worry about than bandits.

  Chapter 2 - Difference of Opinion

  "Is it good?" the healer asked.

  Cedric sipped the tea, found it too hot, and blew on it several times before finally tasting it. ”It's King's Passing," he said.

  The healer nodded. "You know your herbs."

  "I know some," Cedric said, "My mother taught me."

  Cedric recalled the book in his father's study he loved to look at as a child. He remembered the page for King's Passing. In his memory he could see the drawing of the little yellow flower that grew in the East. When the sun became too hot it would "bow" its blossom toward the ground like a bystander in the crowd bowing to the Lord King as he passed in procession. He also recalled reading that warriors of old used to wear necklaces into battle made of the flower's dried blossom as a ward against death.

  I wonder if that book survived the fire?

  Cedric sipped at his tea while looking around at his surroundings. It was early morning. The forest around them was growing lighter. He couldn't see very far, because a light fog had risen like a veil across the forest. He felt comfortable, the warm light of the fire glowing on his face, but naked without a weapon. He had tried to stay awake with the healer to wait for the wolves. But his eyelids had grown heavy. He had little energy to fight the sleep that came over him. He had dozed off only to wake a short while later to find the healer making tea. She told him the wolves never showed up.

  Cedric's stomach growled above the pops and cracks of the wood burning in the fire in front of him. The healer looked up at him."You have not eaten for several days. You must be famished."

  "I don't feel like I could hold much down."

  "How about some soup?" the healer said.

  Cedric nodded. He was hungry. He knew he should go hunting for some small game, but he doubted he could catch anything in his weakened state. And he did not have any traps or hooks to go fishing. He wondered if they might not sneak back to have a look around the village at RoseThorn. There might be a stray pig or a chicken. Although he did not expect they would find much there left by the bandits.

  "Once you can walk," the healer said, "I know of a woodfolk village less than a day from here."

  "Woodfolk?" Cedric asked, "Why would they help us?"

  "Why would they not? I'm a healer."

  Cedric had not thought of that. But he still frowned at the idea. Woodfolk were a secretive people that followed old traditions and an even older religion. They chose to live secluded from others. The Lord King granted them special protection, so mostly they were left alone by local lords. Travelling the roads of the Empire, you might come across them from time to time, wearing their familiar, earthy-brown clothes by which they were also derogatively known as "mudfolk".

  Cedric knew of this woodfolk village. It was located in the next river valley. But there was no direct road from here to there, only miles of wilderness between. He did not think they could make it there in one day. And he did not like the idea of seeking help from the woodfolk. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that a woodfolk village would be the last place anyone would think of looking for him. And he would not have to tell them who he was. At the very least it would give him time to recover.

  Dak suddenly stirred from where he was sleeping near the fire. He sat up and yawned. He looked around for a moment before noticing Cedric. “Lord Cedric!” he shouted, jumping to his feet.

  Cedric laughed. "By the gods, don't wake the forest!"

  Dak ran over and knelt down at Cedric's side, nearly toppling over. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Cedric said. “Better than the day we left the castle. And you? How are you passing your time without any horses to stable?”

  “Yes, I do miss the horses,” Dak sighed, “I am afraid the bandits took them all. But Dawella has been showing me how to make a proper camp.”

  “Dawella?” Cedric asked.

  “I'm sorry, I did not introduce myself," the healer said, "My name is Dawella. I was sent by my lady once we heard the first healer did not reach RoseThorn.”

  So that explains why no one came that night.

  The healer shared with them the food that she had. For the morning meal they ate potato soup. Dawella added some pieces of smoked mutton for flavor. But she had to make the soup twice in the small pot she had in order to make enough to feed the three of them. She also gave each of them a hard biscuit. Cedric was so hungry he felt he could eat a dozen of the tasteless biscuits which needed to be softened in the potato soup first, but the healer only doled out one to each of them. After the meal he felt nauseous about the one he had eaten. The feeling passed after he lay down on his side awhile. He really wanted to get up to have a look around the area. Instead he felt his eyes growing heavy again. He dozed off. When he woke, the air felt warmer, and he noticed the blue sky through the branches above.

  “Where is Dak?" he asked the healer, who was sitting on the far side of the fire.

  She pointed. "He is just over there. I am keeping an eye on him. I sent him hunting for mushrooms."

  Cedric nodded. He was hungry for someth
ing hardier than soup, but he considered that the healer was probably trying to stretch the food she had for the three of them. Also he knew it was better for him to avoid greasy meats until his stomach became used to eating again. Soup would have to do for now. But before long he knew he would have to hunt for something to fill the hollow feeling in his stomach. The thought encouraged him to try to get up on his feet, which he did holding onto the tree behind him. But as soon as he did, he became dizzy. He quickly sat back down.

  “What's wrong?” the healer asked.

  Cedric shook his head in frustration. “I feel sick."

  "You had fever when I found you. That can throw off your balance."

  Cedric remembered sitting in the cellars of the castle, sweating and shivering at the same time. But he felt much better now. He refused to accept that he could not stand. Clinging to the bark on the tree behind him, he pulled himself back up on wobbly legs. For a moment the world seemed to spin around, but the longer he held on, the more the dizziness passed.

  "Better?" the healer asked.

  Cedric nodded. He stood there taking deep breaths and surveying the area around their little camp. All he could see was forest in every direction, trees and more trees disappearing into a haze that now hung above the forest floor. He turned to look behind him and a sharp pain sliced through his shoulder. He winced.

  "Move slowly," the healer said, "the wound will hurt for another day or two, then the pain will begin to lessen."

  Cedric frowned. He did not like to be told the obvious. He had been wounded in the past. While the pain was ebbing away Dak returned with a handful of mushrooms. He gave them to Dawella who began sorting them.

  "Lord Cedric! You are up on your feet!" the boy said, "How do you feel?"

  Cedric scowled. He did not like being asked how he felt all the time. "Stop shouting my name for the world to hear!"

  The smile dropped off the boy's face. "Yes..... Lord....." he started to say, but stopped. He put his head down and walked off a little ways.

  The healer frowned. She set down her work, got up and walked over to the boy. They were not standing close enough for Cedric to hear what they were saying, but after a moment Dawella put her arm around Dak's shoulder. Then she handed him back one of the mushrooms he had given her. Dak nodded and ran off.