Deeds of Their Past - 9. Chapter Nine

Nathan woke to a gentle nudge. Opening his eyes, Brohm’s large frame filled his view.

“We should get going,” he said quietly.

Nathan gazed through the trees of the small forest to glimpse sunlight just below the horizon.

“We should’ve already been on the road by now,” Brohm continued, anxiously gathering tack and saddling their horses.

“Is your father going to mind us laying low at his farm?” Nathan asked as they led their mounts through the long grass. “I think it would be best he knew as little as possible, but it’s going to be hard to not raise suspicions while we’re staying there.”

“No, he’s uh . . .” Brohm’s voice cracked. “He’s off to a better place.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Nathan offered lamely.

“It’s okay. It happened two years ago. He lived a good life.” He seemed lost in thought, but continued after a moment. “He was in pain near the end. As hard as it was for me to let go, it was for the best.”

“So there’s nobody at the farm?”

Brohm nodded. “He’d left it for me, but farm life never was my thing. I should’ve sold the land but . . .”

Brohm didn’t continue, and Nathan used his silence to drop the subject. Once they arrived at the road, they mounted up and rode south amid a sea of swaying grass, continuing as far as the eye could see.

The morning progressed slowly. They’d passed a few travellers, but no patrolmen. Nathan hoped Griff’s warning of an army was overstated, and Helmsley would simply give up his search, but the pit in his stomach told him that was wishful thinking. Near noontide, they came upon a copse of trees near the side of the road. It was an odd landmark given the surrounding grassland countryside.

“Want to stop for a rest?” Brohm asked.

“Sure. Let’s keep it short though.”

They dismounted and led the horses ten metres off the road into the shade. While they ate, Nathan casually glanced over at Brohm. He seemed preoccupied, staring out at the long grass, hypnotized by the swaying movement. Once again, Nathan appreciated he didn’t have the need to fill the quiet. As far as he was concerned, silence was golden, and it appeared his friend agreed.

The rhythm of distant hoofbeats broke through the gentle breeze. It was so quiet at first, Nathan thought he imagined it, but Brohm’s concerned face told him otherwise.

“Stay put,” Nathan said. “They might not even notice us here.”

The four horsemen rode hard and fast, forming a large dust cloud in their wake. Nathan bundled up the rest of the food, storing it in his rucksack, then pulled up the hood of his cloak and sat with Brohm.

The riders looked to race right past them, but at the last moment, the lead man motioned to stop. Nathan cursed under his breath. Dismounting his foaming horse, the armoured man lifted his visor to stare them down.

As Nathan feared, he wore the tabard of the king’s army, and judging by his demeanour, was likely a knight. He walked proudly toward Nathan and Brohm, heavy chainmail ringing with each step, and a gauntleted hand sat comfortably on the pommel of his sheathed longsword.

“Hail and well met, good sir,” Nathan said in a cheerful tone, pulling back his hood slightly.

“We’re in search of two men who match your description,” he responded coldly.

“You are? I do apologize, but I believe you must have us mistaken for someone else. We are but simple travellers.”

“What are your names?” he demanded.

“I’m Whitter, and this is my good friend Sid,” Nathan said.

Brohm, surprised by Nathan’s deceptive answer, nervously eyed the towering knight and nodded.

“Your friend can’t speak for himself?” the knight asked gruffly.

“Please sir. You must—”

“I tire of this game. You are to come with us to Helmsley Keep. There we will discover if you’re the men our lord is searching for.”

A moment of silence passed, yet nobody moved.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Nathan said, dropping his smile.

“You think you have a choice?” he asked, motioning at the troopers still on horseback.

Nathan used that moment to jerk his dagger from its sheath and launch it at the knight’s head. The action was lightning quick, and the troopers had no idea what’d happened until the knight fell over backward with a dagger in his eye. They launched into action, yelling and scrambling off their horses.

To Nathan’s relief, Brohm jumped to his feet with sword drawn and stormed past to take control of the situation. Nathan had been trained in stealthy manoeuvres, not direct combat, and at that moment wished he had a bow in hand.

The first trooper ran at Brohm recklessly. After one parry, the big man easily overwhelmed him and slashed at his throat. Blood sprayed across the long grass, and the man fell. The other two men approached Brohm with caution, seeing their comrade fall so easily to his blade.

“Come on. Let’s have it!” the big man taunted, flashing the troopers a wicked grin.

Nathan used this time to pull the dagger from the knight’s bloodied eye socket, and pushed the body over to retrieve the heater shield strapped to his back.

The troopers spread out to surround Brohm, and he assumed a more defensive stance, taking a few steps back to keep them in view. Nathan used the distraction to his advantage, and rushed to the closest man. Yet just as he was upon him, the trooper turned and slashed, the blade bouncing off Nathan’s shield. The man continued to whale on him, trying to find an opening while Nathan dodged and blocked the blows as best he could.

Catching the rhythm of his assailant’s attack, Nathan performed an offensive charge, slamming the shield against the trooper and kicking the side of his knee. The man yelled out in pain, exposing himself, and Nathan wasted no time to ram the dagger up into the soft flesh under his chin. The tip reached far enough to scrape the top of his skull, and with a twist, Nathan pulled it free. The man fell like a stone, twitching violently.

Down on one knee to catch his breath, he glanced over to Brohm, who was still toe to toe with the last trooper. They exchanged ringing blows, successfully parrying each attack in turn. Frustrated, Brohm lowered his guard for a careless thrust. The trooper blocked and returned with a slash at Brohm’s exposed forearm.

Instead of showing pain, the big man roared in anger. Surprised, the trooper stumbled back, and Brohm kicked him to the ground. Looming above the prone man, he rammed the sword through his chest, the chainmail melting like butter. The trooper managed an awful wet gurgle, blood frothing at his lips. Brohm savagely booted the side of his head, rendering him unconscious.

“Shut up!” he bellowed.

He kicked again, just as hard. The head shifted to an odd angle, his neck clearly broken.

“And that’s for my arm.”

Nathan found himself holding his breath watching the violence unfold. Eyes filled with fire, Brohm scanned the area looking for more trouble. He locked onto Nathan who was still down on one knee, and in a heartbeat, the anger melted away, the fire dissipated.

“Nathan, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one who needs attention.”

Brohm glanced down at his bloody forearm, annoyed. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Let me look at it.”

Brohm bared his teeth from the sting as Nathan poured water over the wound. Once the blood washed away, they found the gash wasn’t deep. Nathan tore strips of cloth from the dead knight’s tabard and wrapped his arm in a tight bandage.

“This could’ve been a lot worse.”

Brohm shrugged.

“You’re a impressive swordsman. Why’d you attempt such a risky move?”

“I dunno. He was pissing me off hiding behind that shield.”

Nathan couldn’t help but smile and shake his head in wonder.

After wiping the blood and gore from their blades, they hastily dragged the four bodies into the long grass past the copse of trees. Nathan hoped the wildlife would take care of them before the stink of decay would divulge their location. While Nathan removed the tack from the horses, Brohm rooted through the saddlebags, finding coin purses, food, and four full wineskins.

“Not much coin,” he said, weighing the small leather purses in his hand.

“It’s better than nothing. We’ll take what we can get.”

Nathan dumped the tack alongside the bodies, watching Brohm slap the horses’ rears to force them north on the road. Returning alongside Brohm, they watched the dust rise and blow off the road in the breeze.

“You realize we’re creating a trail for them to follow,” Brohm said solemnly.

“What are you talking about? We’ve removed any sign that those horses belonged to the king’s army.”

“Yuh. Well, doing that may throw them off for a while, but there’s still four men missing.”

“So? How will they know where they are?” Nathan asked, slightly flustered by Brohm’s roundabout way of explaining his thoughts.

“Someone gave them the order to come this way. If a commanding knight and three troopers don’t report back, more men are going to come looking for them.”

“And how do you know this?”

“I used to work for the king’s army,” Brohm said plainly. “I know how they think.”

Nathan was dumbfounded. “You were?”

Brohm simply nodded, watching the horses, now distant specks on the horizon. His eyes were full of worry. “Come on, let’s go.”

* * *

They pushed hard, wanting to get as much distance between them and the attack. The flat, grassy vista soon gave way to rolling hills, and distant southern mountains grew on the horizon.

By late afternoon, Brohm gave a signal to slow down. Nathan couldn’t understand why until they were practically beside an old road heading west. It was clearly unused, choked with grass and weeds. All that remained was the dry, impacted ground from cart wheels.

“This is it,” Brohm said. “Over that ridge aways is my Pa’s farm.”

“Really? We got here sooner than expected.”

They nudged their horses down the abandoned trail. Grassy meadows to the north gave way to fallow land, the vague hint of ploughed fields, all but eroded away from years of neglect. To the south, towering mountains yielded to a deciduous forest that lined its edge, acting as a border of sorts. Half a kilometre down the old road, a simple log house nestled in the trees came into view, looking out at the vast fields. The remains of a collapsed barn lay farther off.

“When was the last time you were here?” Nathan asked.

“I reckon a month or two after Pa passed on. Why?”

“It looks like someone might still live here. It looks pretty well-kept given the time that’s passed.”

Brohm eyed the house suspiciously.

Tying their horses to a hitching post near the house, they silently made their way to the veranda. There weren’t any footsteps in the dirt, and the windows were grimy. Brohm tried the door but it didn’t budge. Taking a step back, he roughly shouldered the door and it burst open with a loud squeak, rubbing against the frame. Dust motes came to life from the sudden movement, accentuating rays of golden sunlight shining through the dirty windows. The whole room glowed a smooth amber, and the air was hot and stuffy, smelling of old wood.

“I don’t reckon anyone’s living here,” Brohm said.

Nathan shook his head. “I guess not.”

Despite the dust, the main room was in relative order with a large wood burning stove sitting in the far corner. In the centre sat a table with two chairs. A series of oil lamps hung from brackets on the walls. To the right, a small hallway led to other rooms, their doors closed.

Brohm unbuckled his sword belt and placed it on the table. Opening the windows on the three walls of the main room allowed a cross-breeze to enter the home after so many years. Surveying the room, his eyes drifted from one location to the next.

“You okay?” Nathan asked quietly.

“Yuh. Just lots of memories.”

Nathan left him to his thoughts and stepped back outside, walking around to the back of the house. The surrounding trees created a pleasant shade, and amid the tall grass he came upon a covered well. Pushing it aside, he peeked down, catching a glimpse of rippling dark water.

“Is the well dry?”

Nathan jumped back in surprise with a yelp. “Gods, you scared me. No, there’s water down there, but it might be a little scummy.”

Brohm gave him the same crooked grin. “For what I want, it doesn’t matter.”

He lifted his sweat-damp shirt over his head, revealing a wide chest and belly. He casually tossed the bucket into the well, and after hearing a splash, proceeded to pull the attached rope arm over arm. Nathan found himself mesmerized at the sight of his muscles undulating smoothly as he lifted. Dripping bucket in hand, Brohm turned to him with a wide grin.

“I reckon this is gonna be cold.”

Squinting his eyes shut, the big man dumped water over his head onto his body, soaking his trousers in the process.

“Yuh, it’s c-cold,” he gasped. “You wanna try? Once you get past the shock, it feels great.”

His wet body glinted in the sunlight, accentuating his features. Nathan, mouth agape, blinked and shook himself from his reverie, casually trying to hide his excitement.

“Uhm . . . no, I’ll pass,” he said, offering a weak smile.

Brohm simply laughed.

* * *

Brohm remained shirtless as they led the horses to a grass-filled paddock behind the house. Nathan, as much as he tried, found it difficult not to ogle him. The big man either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. While Brohm filled the trough with water, Nathan removed the horses’ tack and cared for them, brushing them down and inspecting for injuries. Once finished, he glanced up to find Brohm out of sight.

“Where’d you go?”

“Over here.” Brohm’s voice came from the west side beyond the house.

As Nathan rounded the corner, Brohm tossed something at him. Deftly catching it, he looked down to find an apple in his hand. “Where’d you get this?”

“Apple tree just yonder,” Brohm said with a mouthful of fruit, thumbing behind him.

Nathan looked beyond in the failing evening light to see the tree, overloaded with apples.

“They’re great. Not too sour,” Brohm continued.

Nathan took a bite into the juicy fruit. “Gods, this is delicious,” he said, licking his lips.

“Come on, let’s get inside.”

The oil lamps filled the main room with a comforting orange glow, and a crisp gentle breeze streamed through the open windows. For the first time in a while, Nathan felt truly safe. Tucked away out of sight, the house seemed invisible to the world.

He opened his rucksack to inventory the food they had. Meanwhile, Brohm took one of the lamps and stepped into one of the back rooms. Nathan heard him struggling to open a window, and after a string of curses, it finally gave way. He did the same in the other room.

“Figured we’d get some air back there too,” Brohm said.

Nathan nodded. “We’ve got enough food for a couple days, maybe more.”

“We should make it last as long as we can. After what happened today, I don’t want to go into town any time soon.”

“You’re right,” Nathan said. “Aside from all the apples we can eat, we should probably go hunting.”

“Yuh, there’s always been deer in the area.”

“There’s only one problem,” Nathan said. “We’ve nothing to hunt with. I wish I had my bow.”

“My pa had one. No idea where it might be though. Might’ve been in the barn.”

“Good luck trying to get anything of use from that rubble heap,” Nathan said. “You hungry?”

Brohm nodded with a grin and, still shirtless, sat at the table. Nathan wasn’t about to complain. He never cared much for etiquette, and certainly not now. He brought bread, dried meat and two full wineskins to the table. Brohm’s eyes lit up.

“Now I’m thirsty,” he said, popping the stopper with a thumb and began guzzling the wine.

Nathan sat down across from him, popped the stopper from his own wineskin, and raised it up as though it were a tankard. “To our freedom, however hard we need to fight for it.”

“Hear hear!”

They both took a healthy swig.

“Not bad,” Nathan said.

Brohm belched. “As long as it gets me drunk.”

“So I’ve got to ask, what were you doing in the army? You seem the last guy I’d expect there.”

Brohm shrugged. “That was a long time ago. I was sixteen or seventeen when I left home. Pa had help tending the farm and didn’t really need me. Anyway, I was bored working here, and I wanted some excitement.”

“Did you find it?”

Brohm laughed. “Nah. It’s glorified guard duty when there’s no wars happening. But I stuck with it for eight years. The only good that came from it was the training. You know, fighting skills, learning to use a sword and shield. Stuff like that.”

Nathan nodded. “I said it before, you’re good with a sword.”

“Yuh, trainer said the same thing when I was learning that stuff. Understanding that the sword was an extension of my body? Something like that.”

“Did you ever take part in any interesting missions?”

“A few, yuh. But mostly, I got drunk in the barracks with the fellows.”

Nathan chuckled.

“Later on, I met some guys who told me I could be making more coin working for them. They said my size was good for what they had in mind,” he said with a wink. “So I left the army, and been working contracts since.”

“More excitement doing that?”

“Yuh, more action for sure. Finally got to put my skills to good use,” Brohm said, laughing.

They continued to drink into the night, managing to empty the four wineskins. All the while, Brohm carried on telling stories of his time in the army. Most of them ended with hilarious consequences, to the point where they found themselves laughing uncontrollably, gasping for breath.

Once the room started spinning, Nathan decided it was time for bed, but attempting to stand was a dismal failure. He flopped onto the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Brohm laughed raucously, and Nathan couldn’t help but join him, stuck in his awkward position. Using the table as a support, Brohm stood, seeming to have more luck with his balance.

“Don’t worry l’il buddy,” he slurred. “I’ll help you out.”

Brohm staggered to Nathan’s prone body, and with easy strength, lifted him over his shoulder. His bare skin emanated a warmth that Nathan found comforting. Slowly standing up, the big man wavered in place for a moment, giggled to himself, and proceeded to lumber down the hallway to the back rooms. Using the walls as support, it was a bumpy ride, but he managed to make it without falling over. After unceremoniously flopping Nathan onto the bed, he turned to leave.

“Sleep sleep,” Brohm mumbled to himself, holding onto the door frame for support.

Nathan turned his head to see the hulking shadow filling the doorway. At that moment, he wanted so badly to hold him.

“Brohm,” he managed to blurt out in his half-conscious stupor.

The big man stumbled to turn around, leaning against the frame. “Y-yuh?”

Words stuck in Nathan’s throat, and after a moment, Brohm pushed against the frame to leave. “Night, l’il buddy,” he whispered, assuming Nathan had fallen asleep.

his shadow lumbered back into the main room, and one by one, the flame of each lamp went out until it was dark.