going back?”
“I am. You have a mission.”
“I do?”
“Aye. Climb down.”
Achan slid down Etti’s side. Sir Gavin pulled the dagger from his boot and handed it down, hilt first. Achan took the weapon and looked up at Sir Gavin.
“It’s tradition that every squire kill his first beast alone.”
Achan’s lips parted. He glanced into the forest, then up at the mountains, not wanting to go near the cursed mist.
“No need to go far. You’ll find plenty of deer and fox in this forest here.”
Deer and fox?
“That’s right,” Sir Gavin said, as if reading Achan’s mind. “Don’t come home without an animal. A bird doesn’t count, and I don’t recommend trying for a bear your first time out.”
Achan stood gaping as Sir Gavin grabbed Etti’s reins. Surely he couldn’t be serious?
“I’m very serious, lad. To kill an animal takes wit, strength, and courage. I believe you have all of these traits in great measure, but to be publicly declared a squire, you must prove it to others. This is, and always has been, the way. Arman be with you, lad.” At that, Sir Gavin yelled, “Hee-ya!” and Scippa and Etti took off at a gallop.
Achan stood watching the plume of dust that rose in their wake and stung his eyes. When the dust settled, Achan turned toward the trees.
“So much for my day off.”
The trees stood before him, a legion of wood soldiers standing guard in both directions as far as he could see, separating the peaceful plains of northeast Er’Rets from the mountains leading to Darkness. He recognized allown, poplar, and pine trees, though they seemed bigger than those he was used to. He hoped the forest wouldn’t mind sparing a small animal to help him on his way to freedom.
Yet as he faced the woods, a thrill coursed in his veins. Publicly declared a squire. Could it be true? Would a squire be worthy enough to speak with Gren’s father? Achan winced, doubting that even a Kingsguard knight made as much income as a merchant. Likely Riga would inherit the business from his father.
He sighed. How exactly did one catch a fox? Certainly not by chasing it. Should he find a place to crouch and wait for one to wander by? And wouldn’t a deer be able to smell him coming? Sir Gavin had never once spoken of hunting. Achan had no idea how to go about it. Why did Sir Gavin give him this task now? And why hadn’t he left him Etti?
You must do this alone , Sir Gavin said.
Achan swung around, wondering why Sir Gavin had come back. But Sir Gavin had not returned. Where, then, had his voice come from? Had the Evenwall drifted further than Sir Gavin had thought? Was it already unraveling Achan’s mind? The air appeared clear around him, the sky cloudless, the sun bright…
He shrugged. It was probably just that he knew Sir Gavin so well now he could guess the kind of thing he would’ve said. Achan swallowed, gripped the dagger in his left fist, and stepped into the forest.
The scent of pine filled his nostrils. It was dark and cool under the thick, green canopy of poplar, allown, and pine. Low bushes grew between the trees. The forest floor was dotted with dead pine needles, pine cones, and little white flowers.
Achan walked a few paces and stopped. If he went deep into the forest, how would he find his way out? He stepped to the nearest poplar and stripped a wedge of bark off with the dagger, exposing a swatch of moist, white wood. He did the same at another poplar ten paces in. He decided he’d mark only the poplars. For some reason, cutting an allown tree seemed sacrilegious. Not that Achan was a strictly religious or overly superstitious man.
He smiled to himself. He was a man now. His sixteenth year had come and gone with little fanfare. Thoughts of being a man reminded him of the gifts he’d received that day, which reminded him of Gren.
Thankfully, the wedding was not scheduled until Riga’s father could build them a cottage. That gave Gren—and Achan—some time to get used to the
“I am. You have a mission.”
“I do?”
“Aye. Climb down.”
Achan slid down Etti’s side. Sir Gavin pulled the dagger from his boot and handed it down, hilt first. Achan took the weapon and looked up at Sir Gavin.
“It’s tradition that every squire kill his first beast alone.”
Achan’s lips parted. He glanced into the forest, then up at the mountains, not wanting to go near the cursed mist.
“No need to go far. You’ll find plenty of deer and fox in this forest here.”
Deer and fox?
“That’s right,” Sir Gavin said, as if reading Achan’s mind. “Don’t come home without an animal. A bird doesn’t count, and I don’t recommend trying for a bear your first time out.”
Achan stood gaping as Sir Gavin grabbed Etti’s reins. Surely he couldn’t be serious?
“I’m very serious, lad. To kill an animal takes wit, strength, and courage. I believe you have all of these traits in great measure, but to be publicly declared a squire, you must prove it to others. This is, and always has been, the way. Arman be with you, lad.” At that, Sir Gavin yelled, “Hee-ya!” and Scippa and Etti took off at a gallop.
Achan stood watching the plume of dust that rose in their wake and stung his eyes. When the dust settled, Achan turned toward the trees.
“So much for my day off.”
The trees stood before him, a legion of wood soldiers standing guard in both directions as far as he could see, separating the peaceful plains of northeast Er’Rets from the mountains leading to Darkness. He recognized allown, poplar, and pine trees, though they seemed bigger than those he was used to. He hoped the forest wouldn’t mind sparing a small animal to help him on his way to freedom.
Yet as he faced the woods, a thrill coursed in his veins. Publicly declared a squire. Could it be true? Would a squire be worthy enough to speak with Gren’s father? Achan winced, doubting that even a Kingsguard knight made as much income as a merchant. Likely Riga would inherit the business from his father.
He sighed. How exactly did one catch a fox? Certainly not by chasing it. Should he find a place to crouch and wait for one to wander by? And wouldn’t a deer be able to smell him coming? Sir Gavin had never once spoken of hunting. Achan had no idea how to go about it. Why did Sir Gavin give him this task now? And why hadn’t he left him Etti?
You must do this alone , Sir Gavin said.
Achan swung around, wondering why Sir Gavin had come back. But Sir Gavin had not returned. Where, then, had his voice come from? Had the Evenwall drifted further than Sir Gavin had thought? Was it already unraveling Achan’s mind? The air appeared clear around him, the sky cloudless, the sun bright…
He shrugged. It was probably just that he knew Sir Gavin so well now he could guess the kind of thing he would’ve said. Achan swallowed, gripped the dagger in his left fist, and stepped into the forest.
The scent of pine filled his nostrils. It was dark and cool under the thick, green canopy of poplar, allown, and pine. Low bushes grew between the trees. The forest floor was dotted with dead pine needles, pine cones, and little white flowers.
Achan walked a few paces and stopped. If he went deep into the forest, how would he find his way out? He stepped to the nearest poplar and stripped a wedge of bark off with the dagger, exposing a swatch of moist, white wood. He did the same at another poplar ten paces in. He decided he’d mark only the poplars. For some reason, cutting an allown tree seemed sacrilegious. Not that Achan was a strictly religious or overly superstitious man.
He smiled to himself. He was a man now. His sixteenth year had come and gone with little fanfare. Thoughts of being a man reminded him of the gifts he’d received that day, which reminded him of Gren.
Thankfully, the wedding was not scheduled until Riga’s father could build them a cottage. That gave Gren—and Achan—some time to get used to the
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