Talsin

“Father! Father!” Talsin called, running through the stone halls of his father’s keep.

The servants swiftly stepped to one side as the ten-year old barreled through, his small bow in his hand and a quiver of arrows banging noisily on his back. He skidded to a halt at the wooden doors that led to the hall where he knew his father and his nobles gathered. Pausing to catch his breath, his eyes followed the intricately carved designs of the wood. His family crest stared down at him – a long snake entwined around a vicious looking dagger. He grinned at the serpent, a feeling of pride welling up inside him. The crest had always comforted him, and he imagined a fierce snake living beneath the castle, ready to protect them all from danger.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the huge door slowly open, the smell of smoke, food, dogs, and men wafting out of the room. He could hear music and laughter of his father’s men as they spoke about their adventures. Slipping into the room and letting the door swing closed behind him, Talsin paused at the doorway, the edge of the man’s world he desperately wished to enter. Seated among the men, and not in the high back chair against the far wall, was his father. The lord of Blackhelm dressed no differently from his nobles in leather pants and a loose fitting tunic, the only symbol of his rank was a golden signet ring on his left hand. He was speaking to Nathan, his favourite advisor and second-in-command. The two were very close, yet looked like opposites. Lord Blackhelm had shoulder length black hair, a bushy black beard, and dark intelligent eyes. He had a large crooked nose, broken in battle long ago, and a tall muscular body. Nathan kept his blond hair short and his beard neatly trimmed. His blue eyes were set close together and his nose was long and slender. He was nearly as tall as Lord Blackhelm, but not quite at the lord’s stature. Talsin had known him all his life, and regarded him like an uncle.

Talsin hesitated, watching the adults from the shadows, suddenly shy against infiltrating his father’s circle. Blackhelm quickly noticed his son, however, and beckoned him over. Talsin grinned and rushed over, weaving around the dogs, men, and furniture to stand at his father’s side. Nathan pressed his meaty hand on Talsin’s head and tousled his black hair. Talsin grimaced as he endured Nathan’s greeting before smiling up at his father.

“Father, may I go shoot fowl with Gareth?” he asked, his large brown eyes pleading.

“Off to catch supper, young lord?” Nathan laughed.

Talsin ignored him as a few of the other nobles joined in the laughter. Blackhelm smiled down at his son, his dark eyes twinkling in amusement.

“You know you’re not to enter the forest alone,” Blackhelm spoke.

“Gareth will be with me.”
Blackhelm raised an eyebrow. “Will Gareth save you from the forest outlaws? Take Jared with you.”

Talsin frowned. “Jared? He won’t let us do anything!”
“And that will keep you safe,” his father said. “When you’re older, you’ll be able to visit the forest all you like.”

Talsin blushed, hating that his father was treating him like a child in front of his nobles. Blackhelm took him by the chin, turning his head so Talsin’s eyes met his own. Once again, Talsin realized with pleasure how much he resembled his father.

“My son,” Blackhelm said softly, “when you’re a man, you’ll understand why I need to protect you.”

“Jared’s a good man,” Nathan spoke up. “Stay close to him and you’ll be fine, young lord.”

Talsin sighed, accepting his fate, and nodded. Blackhelm’s face broke into a grin and he clapped his son on the back. Nathan left to fetch Jared, and Blackhelm put his hand on his son’s shoulder.

“Catch three fowl,” Blackhelm challenged, “and tomorrow I’ll take you to hunt stag.”

“Or boar?” Talsin asked eagerly.

Blackhelm laughed. “Not until you’re a lord yourself, Talsin. Even grown men have trouble with boar.”

Impulsively, Talsin hugged his father, throwing his small arms around his thick neck. He heard a few nobles snicker and tried to break free, but his father was holding him close. Talsin felt the scratchy beard on his cheek, and experienced a moment of complete comfort and safety. His father released him as Nathan and Jared approached, winking at him and sending him on his way. Picking up his bow, Talsin followed Jared out of the hall.

*****

Gareth was waiting for them in the courtyard, holding his own home-made bow and quiver of slightly used arrows. Gareth was the son of the cook, but Talsin had befriended him years ago, when he used to hide in the kitchen to avoid his tutors. No matter what the nobles did, or threatened to do, Gareth never revealed Talsin’s whereabouts. The two became inseparable and unlikely friends – the lord’s son and the kitchen boy.

Gareth waved as Talsin approached, the slight breeze ruffling his short brown hair. He was fairly muscular from working with his parents in the kitchen, his skin tanned from tending the fire. Talsin waved back and ran the last few steps to his friend, slapping him amicably on the back, while Jared when to fetch the horses.

“Three fowl,” Talsin bragged, “and Father will take me out to hunt stag.”

Gareth made a face. “If you kill a stag, you’ll beat my score.”

“I already did! Two days ago, I got a rabbit.”

“That only brought you up two. I’m still in the lead.”

Talsin stuck out his tongue as Jared called for them to come to the gate. Laughing, Gareth took off at a run.

“Race you!” he called over his shoulder.

Talsin laughed and sped after his friend, arriving too late to win. Gareth was standing next to Talsin’s pony, holding the reins and making a show of being impatiently waiting. Jared was already mounted and speaking to a guard at the gate.

“Your horse, milord,” Gareth teased.

Talsin shoved him playfully as he mounted. Gareth, who did not know how to ride, walked beside the pony as they moved to join Jared. The older man stared down at them.

“Ready to go, young lord?” he asked gruffly.

Talsin nodded in reply and they passed through the castle’s gates. Gareth jogged easily next to the walking mounts, a wide grin on his face. As they left, Talsin noticed none of the guards would meet his eyes.

The sun was low, but they still had a few hours before dark, when the castle’s gates would be closed for the night. The forest was not far from the gate, down a long sloping road and through a small town that mostly consisted of merchants. The people waved and shouted greetings as the trio passed, and Talsin smiled back, pleased to see the happy faces of his father’s people.

They reached the edge of the forest less than an hour after leaving the keep. Jared and Talsin dismounted and Gareth tied their horses close by, so they could graze while the boys hunted. Jared sat down with his back against a tree and sighed.

“Don’t go past the underbrush and shout if you need me,” he instructed. “Be back before sunset. I’ll wait here.”

The boys nodded and ran off into the long grass in the hope of scaring out some fowl. Jared grunted and closed his eyes. In no time, Talsin could hear him snoring. Suddenly feeling very free, Talsin motioned for Gareth to follow him, and they drifted closer and closer to the trees. Talsin had already filled his three-bird quota when he felt Gareth’s hand on his shoulder.

“We’re getting too far from Jared,” he said nervously.

“What’s wrong?” Talsin asked. “Scared?”

“No,” Gareth replied immediately, “but your father said there are outlaws in the woods, and I heard the guards talking about faerie folk.”

“Don’t be stupid. The outlaws wouldn’t be this close to the castle.”

They heard a snap from the forest, like a person stepping on a twig. The sun had already begun to set, and the trees of the forest were masked in growing shadows. The two boys exchanged frightened looks.

“I think we should go back,” Gareth said.

Talsin nodded, clutching the legs of his three birds. They ran back to the tree where they had left Jared, only to find both him and the horses were missing. Talsin stared at the spot under the tree, as if by concentrating hard enough their protector would reappear. He felt Gareth tap him on the shoulder and he turned to see a pillar of black smoke rising from Blackhelm castle. His eyes wide with shock, Talsin shook his head slowly.

“Father…”

*****

The boys ran as fast as they could, their joy and innocence evaporating in the air like the smoke from their home. A steady stream of frightened townspeople, servants, and courtiers poured from the keep, forcing Talsin and Gareth off the road. The closer they came to the castle, the fewer people they saw, until they stood before the opened gates of their home.

“Father?” Talsin called into the chaos.

There were sounds of fighting all around them. Men battled on the walls and chased each other into the keep. Flames licked the stone walls and danced in the windows of the tower. Talsin stared at the gruesome scene, his young mind reeling as he tried to understand what was happening. He saw men kill and be killed, falling into the fire. His world was burning and he could do nothing to save it. He felt Gareth tugging his arm and allowed himself to be dragged from the courtyard and into the kitchens.

“No!” Gareth cried. “Mother! Father!”

The carnage did not disappear when they left the outdoors. The kitchen, their refuge from the adult world and their place of greatest comfort, had been gutted by flames and swords. Two corpses lay half hidden in the corner, a man holding his wife. They had been stabbed and left to die, their normally pristine clothes saturated with blood. Gareth stumbled towards them, one arm outstretched. Tears ran in rivers down his cheeks as he realized the arms of his mother would never reach back for him. He lowered his arm and fell to his knees.

“Mother…,” he wept. “Father…”

“Come on,” Talsin said, pulling his friend to his feet. “Father will fix this. We need to find him. Everything will be fine.”

Gareth stumbled after his friend down the familiar halls that were now alien and strange. Talsin strode purposefully forward, knowing his father could stop this madness. He expected to find Lord Blackhelm in his hall, surrounded by his men, eating and laughing as he often did. Talsin could picture the whole scene in his mind. He would burst into the hall, announcing the destruction as he entered. His father would leap into action, taking down the great sword that hung behind his chair, and lead his men forward. Talsin would join him at his right hand side, and together they would sweep through the castle and destroy the invaders. It was going to be magnificent.

Talsin and Gareth burst into the hall to find it in ruins, the great wooden door hacked apart and the serpent on the family crest split in two. Stepping over the wood, they noticed the ceiling of the hall had collapsed from the fire, taking a large portion of the outside wall with it. Talsin could see a few stars shining in the growing darkness. He paused at the doorway, like he always did, his eyes locked on the only two people in the room, dueling. One was his father, dressed as he had been when Talsin had left him, holding a massive black sword in both hands. Talsin had only seen his father’s sword hanging on the wall, never in use. Lord Blackhelm was fighting a knight in silver armour, holding a shield with a green dragon crest on it. He was fighting masterfully, forcing Blackhelm back. It was obvious by the cuts on Blackhelm’s body that they had been fighting for quite some time. As Talsin and Gareth watched with growing horror, the silver knight brought Blackhelm to his knees and with a single stroke, sliced his head cleanly off.

Talsin opened his mouth to scream, by Gareth clamped his hand firmly over it. Pulling Talsin with him, Gareth hid them in the shadows of the hall, behind one of the larger pieces of the destroyed door. Talsin’s warm tears wet his hand as they watched the Dragon knight pick up Lord Blackhelm’s head and shove it into a bag. Looking down at the body of his adversary almost sadly, the knight turned and left the hall. Talsin began to struggle, elbowing Gareth sharply in the ribs, causing the other boy to let him go. He ran to his father’s body and sank to his knees. He stared at the dead man’s chest, not wanting to remember the bloody neck and the absence of the caring face he loved so dearly. Gently, he removed the large black sword from his father’s hand and slid the signet ring from his finger. Holding the ring tightly in his own hand, he forced himself to look once more at the mutilated body.

“I will avenge you, Father,” he swore.

Gareth appeared beside him. “We have to get out of here. The knight might come back.”

“Where do we go?” Talsin asked, his fear building anew.

“The forest,” Gareth replied somewhat hesitantly. “They won’t follow us there. They’re too scared.”

Talsin nodded and got to his feet. The two boys slipped out of the keep and into the darkness outside. They moved quickly from the fires engulfing their former home, plunging into the darkness with the certainty that came from being raised in the area. Quickly and quietly as they could, they made their way to the forest, Talsin dragging his father’s sword behind them as they ran.

At the edge of the woods, Talsin paused to look back at the burning castle. His father’s murderers would be celebrating, eating and drinking merrily, congratulating themselves on a job well done. He pushed his anger deep inside him and turned to follow Gareth. Their time would come soon enough.

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