Fantasy Flash Collection - 5. Rise and Fall

The stillness near the small cabin in the woods was only interrupted by the steady beat of an axe on wood as a lanky young man chopped away at the pile of logs. Winter in this area was always harsh, and it was coming on faster than the residents wanted. The young man, nearly sixteen winters old now, lived on his own. His mother had died when he was only five. His father had died two years ago of the plague. Most of the people in the nearest village had also died during that epidemic. He had only been in the village a handful of times since his father had died. It took most of the day to walk there, and he could make or find everything he needed to survive right there in the forest.

He was quite startled by the appearance of another boy as he was hefting the axe up to split another log. He nearly dropped the axe in surprise. He looked over the other boy, and it was obvious he was no commoner. He was too finely dressed, even though he was cut and scraped, and his once fine clothes were torn and shredded.

“Hide me. Please,” the boy begged in a low voice that was laced with pain.

Oleg nodded quickly and hurriedly ushered the other boy inside. He closed the cabin door and quickly moved aside some of the trash on the floor to reveal a wooden door. He pulled it open and pointed down the rungs of the small ladder. The other boy looked relieved and quickly disappeared into the dark hole. Oleg closed the door and quickly covered it. He went back outside, carrying a water skin. He was next to his woodpile, gulping down water, sweat gleaming off his now bare chest, when the men on horses appeared.

“You boy! Have you seen a dark-haired youth your age?” the largest man asked from his saddle.

“No, my lord. I haven’t seen a soul in ages.”

The man looked closely at the boy’s bare chest and the small tattoo over his heart. The man jumped down from his horse and went right up to Oleg. He traced the blue crescent moon tattoo with his finger, feeling the distinct tingle of magic.

“Where did you get this marking, boy?” he asked with a dangerous edge in his voice.

“My father gave it to me. He was a priest of Gealach.”

“What would a priest of the god of travelers be doing living in one place?”

“I know not my father’s motives. He died over two years ago in the plague.”

“So much for prayers for him then, no?” another man laughed from his saddle.

“His prayers weren’t for himself,” Oleg corrected the man quietly.

The first man made a hand gesture, which cut off any response. “You’d do well to run to the village if you see any such boy in fine clothes around here. He is dangerous.”

“As you say, my lord,” Oleg murmured in response.

The man climbed back on his horse and made the sign against evil as he herded his men away. Oleg overheard the man’s hoarse whispered command to his men.

“We must be gone from this place immediately. That boy is nothing but trouble for us, and we dare not come near him again.”

Oleg was surprised, but he let it go. He hurried back inside once he was sure they were gone. His father had taught him a great deal about the healing arts, so he had made his own herbal bag for healing. He quickly opened the secret room and climbed down. The boy was unconscious and would not wake up despite several strenuous attempts. Oleg quickly started to pull clothes off the boy to find out where he had been hurt. There were several cuts and one very troubling stab wound below the boy’s belly. It was not very deep, but it already looked infected. He cleaned it carefully and packed it with the root of eferil, renowned for its cleansing properties. It could draw the poisons out of the body.

As soon as he was sure the boy was all taken care of, he went back outside. He quickly gathered the wood he had cut and carried in several trips to the back of the small shack. He squeezed in through the back door and stacked the remaining wood on the very large pile. The double door in the rear, which opened inwards, was closed next. He carefully threw the heavy bolts home on both doors, top and bottom. He then settled a thick oaken beam across both doors. He checked around the doors for any obvious breaks to the outside. He found none. Satisfied, he lit a small lamp and then closed the heavy wooden shutter over the tiny window in the room. He barred it as well and made sure that it was completely sealed.

He walked through the very narrow path in the room full of lumber. He stepped back into the cabin’s main room. He carefully sealed the outside shutters and then the inside shutters on both of the room’s windows. Once he was satisfied, he stepped outside again. The temperature had dropped dramatically, as he had known it would. Winter had arrived, and it was going to be the worst in years. Heavy snowflakes started whirling out of the sky. In almost no time at all, the ground turned white. Oleg hurried back inside and closed the heavy door. This door, like the ones in back, was set into the floor somehow so that closing it sealed the inside from the outside perfectly. Snow coming under the door is a common problem that spelled doom for more than one family in this area.

He did a quick walk around the rest of the cabin. It had narrow stairs leading to the loft area. The only things in the loft area were heavy furs and snowshoes. There was also a heavy door that opened inward, allowing one to step outside when the snow wasn’t too deep. The door was locked tight against the heavy winds. He walked back to the main level of the cabin and ensured that the remaining shutters were tightly secured. There was a small fire burning in the hearth. The hearth itself was surrounded by large chunks of iron, which radiated heat well into the room rather than straight up the flue.

He carefully removed the threshing from over the trap door. He then carefully removed the trapdoor, since it was no longer needed until the snow was gone. He opened the next panel in the floor before he clambered down the steep ladder. He unhooked the ladder next. After he was all set, he pulled out a steep stairway that was behind the ladder on the wall. He put it in place and secured it. There was now a regular stairway down into the room below ground.

The room itself was odd. The walls looked as if they were carved directly from solid stone. The floor was also stone, though it was scrubbed to a shine. There was a large doorway on the far wall leading up to the stairs, and many shelves crammed against the walls all the way down. On the floor in front of the doorway was a sleeping pallet. On the pallet was the boy who had previously been wearing fine clothes. He was now wrapped tightly in a woolen blanket.

The boy stirred briefly before his eyes popped open. He felt his naked body over, gently probing each of the bandaged locations. “What happened?”

“Some men came by looking for you. They left in a hurry, and after they were gone, I patched you up.”

“Thank you. I owe you my life.”

Oleg blushed lightly. “My father told me always to help a traveler in need. It is the way of the north. I’m afraid you are trapped here with me until at least the first major snowstorm has passed. It will be a couple of weeks at the least.”

“Oh. People will be looking for me.”

“People are already looking for you… What do I call you? My name is Oleg.”

“My friends call me Ethan.”

“Well, Ethan, welcome to my home. It is nothing rich, but it is warm and fairly comfortable by woodsman standards.”

“What is this room?”

“It is the entranceway to the holy caverns.”

“Holy caverns?”

“I’ll explain later. We’ll have plenty of time.”

Ethan nodded, but did not reply. Oleg went back upstairs, and Ethan followed.

“Don’t try to open that door. We’ll freeze to death before you’ll get it closed again.”

“What?”

“The winters are much worse here than they are in the cities. The snow will be twice our height at least by the end of the week.”

“All the more reason to leave now.”

“Go stand near the door. Tell me what you hear and feel.”

Ethan walked reluctantly towards the door. He could hear the wind howling, and he could feel the cold air seeping in around what appeared to be a very thick door. A look of understanding crossed his face.

“We’ll sleep down in the entrance chamber for now. It’ll be warmer there than up here.”

“I…”

“We’ll need to sleep together for warmth. You’re not used to this weather. You’ll probably die otherwise.”

Ethan looked conflicted, then only nodded, apparently not trusting his voice.