Cedric of RoseThorn Read online

  "Look for ones without the red spots!" she shouted after him before returning to her place near the fire where she finished sorting the mushrooms before cleaning them in a bowl of water.

  "You should not spoil the boy," Cedric said.

  "I don't think a few words of encouragement will spoil him," she replied without looking up.

  Cedric grunted in disapproval. He decided to not say anymore, so it took him by surprise when the healer said, "You know, that boy is as good as gold for you."

  "As good as..... what are you talking about?"

  She looked up from her work at him. She looked like she wanted to say something.

  "What?"

  The healer sighed. "All he has done these last few days is talk about you. Lord Cedric this..... Lord Cedric that....."

  "I am his lord and master," Cedric said.

  The healer smiled. "You may be the boy's master, but honestly speaking how much of a lord can you be now?"

  Cedric felt the sting from the her words. He felt she was talking about the fact that he lost his castle. He wanted to tell this presumptuous woman to shut up. But he surprised himself by responding in a calm, even voice, "Once I regain my strength, I will retake RoseThorn and pay you for your services."

  The healer laughed. "Pay me for my...... I'm not concerned with payment," she said, "But I see that I might have insulted you. I'm sorry. That was not my intention."

  Cedric looked at the healer for a moment. He tried to remember her name, but found that he couldn't "What was your intention then?"

  "I only meant to say how difficult it will be to call yourself a lord while somebody else occupies your castle."

  "Again you state the obvious."

  The healer didn't say anything for a moment. Her attention was focused on the mushrooms in front of her. Cedric was just feeling glad that she stopped talking when she said, "Perhaps there is another way."

  "Another way for what?"

  "Another way to deal with these bandits. Not as a castle lord."

  "The bandits will be dealt with in time,"Cedric said.

  "By who?" the healer asked, "I came from the East. The plague is ravaging villages and towns there. Rumor has it that it has reached even as far as King's Crossing, and there is death among the Lord King's family. Deserters are quitting the army and fleeing to the countryside. The East will have their hands full with problems for quite some time. They will not be able to send any help against these bandits."

  Cedric frowned. "Men of the West do not need to wait for the wealthy lords of the East to decide if there is some profit to be gained by coming to our aid. We will take the battle to these bandits ourselves."

  "Are you sure of that?" the healer asked, "Do you know that the bandits are recruiting from among the common people? Their numbers are increasing daily while the numbers of those who might stand against them get smaller."

  "Common men cannot stand in battle against trained warriors."

  "Yes, yes, but have you considered that you may be the only castle lord left in this part of the Empire? HalfStone, WillowBend, and everything up the road. All the lands I travelled through have been taken by the bandit army. Can you stand alone against them?"

  Cedric recalled the stories Bane told. Despite his treachery Cedric wondered how much truth he might have spoken about the world beyond RoseThorn. Was it possible he was the only castle lord left? Could it be that all the others were gone? He did not want to believe it. There had to be somebody left that would fight alongside him against the bandits.

  "What would you have me do then?" Cedric asked the healer.

  "Send out word. When we reach the woodfolk village, let it be known you will free all men who flock to your banner."

  “Free all men?" Cedric asked, "And then what will I have?"

  "An army that will fight for their freedom."

  Cedric shook his head. "No, it would be an army of free farmers who will run at the first sight of blood."

  “Not all of them.”

  "It has been my experience....." Cedric said, "that peasants do not make good soldiers."

  “It is not without precedent,” the healer said.

  Cedric grinned. He knew the healer was referring to incidents in the history of the Empire, a subject on which he was well-read. “Yes,” he said, "Peasants have fought for their king in..... in other times in..... in other lands. But always it did not last for long. Always power returned to the hands of the few. Always there are lords who do the fighting and peasants who do the work."

  "And you believe this cannot be changed?"

  "It is the mandate of Heaven," Cedric said.

  The healer shook her head and sighed. "Now I fear the West may truly be lost."

  "You may fear what you like," Cedric replied, "But I will take RoseThorn back, this bandit army will be defeated, and their leader, Luther, will be punished for his crimes."

  Cedric thought by this he had made it clear that the matter was settled. The healer looked back at her work. But a moment later, to Cedric's surprise, she started talking again, "I will say only this. On my way here I met many running from the death and destruction of the bandit army- peasants, tradesman, priests, servants. All of them were desperately looking for someone to lead them. But none of them. Not a singled one. Needed a lord."

  Cedric shook his head. He remembered that healers could be strongly opinionated. Many of them came from merchant families and had received the benefits of a good education. They were also held in high respect for their healing skills at all levels of society. So they sometimes spoke their mind freely even to the lords they served. Cedric recalled one particular argument he had many years before with an old healer at an inn on one of his journeys. She had been full of opinions, but it was mostly her ideas about who should feed the poor that she rallied about against him. She was quick of tongue, clever, and very stubborn. Cedric's comrades on the journey laughed at his inability to best an old woman with words, which only infuriated him more. In the end he called her something he wished he had not.

  So with this healer he decided he would not discuss her ideas anymore. She had her opinions. He had his. He would hold his tongue, not because she was right, but because he needed her to tend to his wound. She had nursed him through fever. She had cleaned and dressed his wound. She was obviously a capable healer. She could be of use to him until he was more fully recovered.

  At that moment Dak returned with another handful of mushrooms. Cedric watched the boy bring them to the healer. He saw how she smiled and laughed with him, and how Dak responded back. Some were good with people. They knew how to get the best out of them. His father had been good with people. Cedric had to admit that he was not always good with people. He was sometimes too demanding. His wife had told him as much several times. Cedric decided he should try and soothe any bad feelings between himself and the healer by throwing a small concession her way. He called Dak over to him.

  "Yes?"

  Cedric eased himself down to a sitting position with his back against the great tree behind him. He winced each time he moved, each time pain shot through his shoulder. "I am sorry if I spoke unkindly to you before," he said, "I am in considerable pain, and I am afraid it may leave me short of temper."

  "I understand."

  "I have an important task for you," Cedric said, and he watched the boy's eyes light up.

  "After the meal I need you to find me a branch, the straighter, the better. It should be at least as tall as my shoulders and stout. You should not be able to wrap your fingers around it."

  "For a walking stick?" Dak asked.

  "For a weapon," he said.

  Chapter 3 - A Mysterious Find

  After the meal which was eaten mostly in silence, Cedric did not feel queasy, but he did begin to feel sleepy again. He lay back down on his side with his head resting on his arm. He closed his eyes, listening to the healer talk with Dak while she cleaned up after the meal. After she finished the boy told her he had a task to do for his Lord Cedric. But Cedric did not hear did not hear any of this. He was already sleeping. He dreamt of a fire at RoseThorn. The castle was burning. People jumped from the walls to escape the flames. He wanted to help, but he could find no way in to the castle. He shouted to the people to get ladders to climb down. They didn't seem to hear him. He was helpless to do anything. Then he woke.

  Somebody was standing over him. It startled him at first, since he was already unsettled by his dream. But then he recognized it was Dak. The boy held a stick, not as straight as Cedric wanted, but it appeared to be sturdy. Cedric reached up, and the boy handed it to him. He felt it in his hands. It was solid, not very heavy, but stout enough for his purposes. It would make a good enough weapon until he could get his hands on a sword.

  "You have done well, Dak."

  Cedric slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. He did not see the healer anywhere. "Where is..... ?" he paused trying to remember her name.

  "Dawella," Dak said, looking around, "She was with me for awhile. I told her I was coming back to camp."

  "Never mind," Cedric said. He looked again at the stick. The wood was rough in places and smooth in others. He balanced it in one hand, trying to find its center. It had a dark, heavy feel to it, but it was also light in his hands.

  "What's wrong?" Dak asked.

  "Look how it is worn at this end and not the other." Cedric said, handing the stick back to Dak.

  "I saw that," the boy said. He put his hand on the worn end of the stick and dug the other end into the ground. "It's a little big for me, but I bet this was somebody's walking stick."

  Cedric nodded. He noticed the healer was back in camp. She was setting an armful of wood on the ground near the fire. He had not seen or heard her approach, but suddenly she
was there as if she just stepped out from behind a tree. Cedric watched her for a moment, then looked back at Dak.

  "Where did you find it?"

  "Over there. Leaning against a tree."

  "Leaning against a tree?"

  Brushing dirt and bits of bark off her sleeves, the healer came over to them. Dak noticed her. "Dawella! Look! I found this for Lord Cedric. Do you think there's something strange about it?" he asked, handing her the stick.

  She took the stick from Dak and looked it over carefully. She rubbed it with her thumb, then again with her sleeve. After another moment a smile broke across her face. "I believe it's blackwood," she said.

  "What's blackwood?" Dak asked.

  Cedric quickly reached out for the stick. The healer handed it to him.

  "The kings of old ruled from blackwood thrones," Cedric said, looking the stick over more carefully, "The wizards of legend fought the forces of evil with blackwood wands."

  "It's magical?" Dak asked.

  Cedric looked up at the boy. "It is rumored to be magical."

  "If it is blackwood, it must have belonged to someone," Dawella pointed out, "There are no blackwood trees left."

  "Maybe it belonged to the hermit who once lived in this forest?" Dak suggested.

  "Are you sure it was just leaning against a tree?" Cedric asked.

  "Yes," Dak nodded.

  Cedric looked it over for awhile longer. He had seen polished blackwood before, but never touched it. This stick was dull and dirty, but now he saw the healer could be right. It felt strange in his hands in a way that he could not explain with words.

  If it is real, I will have to find a master craftsman to clean it up. It could become an heirloom for my family.

  "Yes, you have done well, Dak," Cedric repeated to the boy, "Very well."

  Dak smiled. But the healer folded her arms in front of her. "Something as rare and unusual as this," she said, "should it not be the finder's to keep?"

  Cedric looked at her. She couldn't be serious. Hand something of this value over to a stable boy?

  "Do you not consider it a sign?" she asked.

  Cedric felt anger. Instead he laughed. "A sign?"

  The healer nodded.

  Dak stepped forward. "I was on an errand for Lord Cedric," he said, his voice trailing off.

  Cedric felt a flare of anger over the healer's challenge. "No," he said, "No, Dak. She's right. You found it. It is yours." And he held it out for the boy to take.

  But Dak recoiled and shook his head.

  "Take it!" Cedric said, offering it again to Dak.

  But the boy refused. "No, I found it for you."

  "Are you sure?" Cedric asked.

  Dak nodded. "I want you to have it, Lord Cedric," he said in almost a whisper.

  Cedric looked at the healer. He couldn't help the smug smile that came across his face. The healer frowned, threw her hands up in the air, and walked away.

  x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

  They said nothing more of the blackwood stick and very little of anything else the rest of the day. But Cedric did not mind. In fact he preferred it that way. The three of them ate their supper in the relative quiet of the forest, listening to bird calls and animals sounds. Afterwards the healer changed the dressing on Cedric's wound. It stung a little when it was exposed to the open air, but felt good again after she placed a new compress on it. They sat around the fire as evening came on. Cedric dozed off a couple of times. The third time he woke it was already dark and Dak was sleeping. The healer sat directly across from him on the other side of the fire.

  "Do you wish to leave for the woodfolk village tomorrow?" Cedric asked.

  "Are you ready for the long hike?"

  "I will do my best."

  The healer frowned. "I don't think you've recovered enough."

  "There is not enough food to stay here."

  The healer paused for a moment while she poked the fire. "That's true," she said. "I could take the boy to the woodfolk village, then come back with help for you."

  Cedric looked away into the night. For a moment he weighed the idea in his mind. Then he said, "I will let you know in the morning."

  But he had already decided.

  x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

  The next morning Dawella woke to find Cedric gone. It was just turning dawn, so she got up. She did not see him anywhere. She was a little impressed. He had managed to get up and leave without waking her. She also noticed the blackwood stick was missing from where he left it leaning against a tree. She did not know what to make of it. Had the castle lord taken the blackwood and abandoned them? It would be a great disappointment to the boy. But she felt it would be better for her plans.

  Now I can hurry back East as I promised.

  She added wood to the smoldering pile of ashes remaining from last night's fire. In a few minutes flames were licking the new wood.

  Dawella was not enjoying the warmth of the fire more than a few minutes when she heard someone approaching. Her hand went to the knife on her belt. She was about to shout a warning to Dak when she recognized Cedric, leaning on a walking stick, approaching the fire.

  "Good morning," he said.

  "Good morning," Dawella replied, disappointed that the castle lord had not left them.

  Cedric eased himself down to the ground with a few grunts of pain. Once he was settled, he poked the end of the walking stick he carried into the fire.

  "What are you doing?" Dawella asked, "That could be priceless!"

  "This?" Cedric laughed, holding up his walking stick. "This is not the blackwood. The blackwood is lying over there on the ground next to Dak. I found this," he said poking the stick in his hands once more into the fire, "a short while ago."

  Dawella sighed, feeling a little foolish.

  Cedric put the end of the stick he found directly on the coals. It started smoking from the heat, but before it caught fire he lifted it off the coals and turned it a little. Then he set it back down onto the coals again. Without a knife he intended to burn and grind the end of the stick into a crude spear point.

  "Have you decided?" Dawella asked.

  "Have I decided? Yes," Cedric said, "I will go with you to the woodfolk village. If I slow you down, you can go on ahead."

  Dawella nodded, but she knew he was in no condition to walk all the way to the woodfolk village. She imagined they would have to leave him somewhere along the way, then come back for him the next day. But she spoke nothing of her doubts. "I think the good weather will hold for another day. But there is rain in the air."

  "Do you know the way?"

  "I have been there before," Dawella answered.

  "But not by way of this forest," Cedric said. He took the stick out of the fire and examined its charred end before turning it and shoving it back among the coals. "I do not want to be wandering lost in this wilderness."

  "I know the way," Dawella said.

  "Let's hope you do," Cedric said, although he doubted that she did.

  Chapter 4 - The Gold Hills

  As soon as it became light Dawella began preparing their breakfast. When Dak woke she got him to do some chores for breaking camp. He hung her blanket up on a line, beat the dust out of it, and folded it. He fetched some water. Then he packed a small kettle she was not using for breakfast and some dry kindling in a sack she gave him.

  "That should not be very heavy," she told him, "You can carry it on your shoulder or tie it to the blackwood."

  At the mention of the blackwood, the boy looked over at Cedric. He still sat in front of the fire pit, sticking the end of his makeshift spear into the remaining coals.

  "Cedric wants you to carry the blackwood for him," Dawella said, "Isn't that right, Cedric?"

  "That's fine," Cedric grunted. "But let's not call it blackwood anymore. There are men who would kill for something as small as a blackwood amulet"

  Dawella and Dak agreed it would be wise not to let others who might be around to know the stick's true value. Cedric also reminded Dak that when they reached the woodfolk village he should not let it slip that he was a castle lord. He told the boy to continue to call him 'Cedric'. And if asked he should tell people that Cedric was a hunter from RoseThorn.