Berach at first had thought the boy's silence somewhat troubling, almost eerie in its completeness, but now he saw it for an opportunity, if temporary. The boy would be his slave, but no one would be the wiser as Berach travelled around and called him "son." Interesting what just that simple title could do. It didn't seem so strange for a young boy to carry his father's belongings and aid with menial tasks. Yet, there was no true sense of desire to keep this boy around. Berach's thoughts roamed. Why did I take the damn boy to begin with? Some misplaced sense of honor or aid for an orphan? He seemed happier there anyway.
His mind wandered back to the forest where a few days ago he had captured the odd little boy, but all he could do now was think how ridiculous it was to even bother with the child. Despite his usefulness he would be another mouth to feed, and certainly Berach couldn't afford that.
Sell-swords had little work to be had in this peaceful age, and food wasn't cheap. The only way for a man of Berach's skillset to make an honest living was to act as a bodyguard for some lordling or other but few ever wished for an honorless mercenary at their side. There were marauding bands of bandits that waylaid country towns and villages, but that type of employment was distasteful to Berach. The military offered a path as well, though, with the boredom of peace, many military units were little more than marauders themselves. On more occasion than one he was called craven by those roving groups and mocked for his so-called honor. I would refuse to pillage and burn yet have no qualms about kidnapping a young boy... The sell-sword looked down at the young boy who stood next to him, fire still blazing in the platinum spheres of his eyes, and felt sick. "Come on boy, it's been two days since I found ye and still not a bloody word." A brazen stare was the boy's reply. "Ye've got fire kid, I'll give you that."
Berach turned and continued along the road with the young boy in tow. Few travelers marked the dirt road that headed southeast from the forest toward the marsh-like river lands and the eastern isles beyond that. A monk trudged past them in sackcloth droning on some mantra from one of the myriad faith systems that had developed in the ages of men. Berach didn't know this one. A young woman toiled with a baby slung in a woolen carrier tied about her shoulders and crossed to the other side of the street as she saw the ratty looking man with a sword on his hip and a mangy boy following dragging something in a woolen wrap.
Some few villages pocked the countryside between the great forest and those eastern isles and their strange lords and customs. Berach had walked this road many times, perhaps too many, but the thought of crossing into the other provinces of the nation seemed impossible to him. With the great forest between him and the Highlands, the insufferable badlands to the south and the Great Loch looming to the west, it was too trying, and too expensive to travel outside the eastern province. Here he knew people, friends of a sort in that they would help you survive if you did the same for them, but beyond this region he had no such guarantee, where only coin or blood could sustain.
Soon the pair came to a small town, bustling with shops and taverns. Berach made his way to a particular stall where meats hung out spreading a stench of rot through the nearby area. A gaunt and scarecrow-like man stood behind the simple wooden counter and brusquely said hello to Berach. As the two bartered back and forth, Berach trying to sell what little remained of the deer carcass, the boy stood solemnly amidst the passing travelers and noisy bustle of the merchants. The uproar and the constant speaking blended together into a cacophony of human existence where everyone had an end, and every word served that end.
A young woman argued with a man about the cost of a strip of linen. A couple quarreled on the street corner about what seemed like nothing while their child complained about being hungry. A handsome, but sad, older gentleman spoke softly and made offers on myriad kinds of jewelry at the different shops and was turned down every time for lack of funds. The boy grit his teeth and threw his head side to side, seeing first this, then that. A shake began with the tapping of his feet and soon shook his whole body and to well up in his breast. He threw his hands over his ears and began to cry noiselessly to himself, but his tiny hands could not halt the ceaseless march of sounds, and for the first time since Arthur had passed, he wanted to scream and wail. Instead he ran.
Berach turned just as the boy began running, ears covered by small, calloused hands. Berach swore loudly and gave chase. Predatory instincts long ingrained took over. It was more a point of pride to not let the boy flee than anything else, besides he would not last the night without some kind of protection here in town. The boy weaved through the crowds and stalls, sprinting madly. Berach continued to give chase as the boy nimbly and deftly passed through even the most tightly packed crowds like water passes by the rocks in a river. The sell-sword could not keep up with the boy and soon lost sight of him amidst the crowd, but he soon realized where the boy was going; he was headed out of town, away from the masses of people. As the chase continued people grew scarcer until finally Berach left the southern gates of the town where strikingly few were travelling. Outside the gate was a large sycamore tree, and he caught sight of the boy's rear climbing up into the upper branches. The boy climbed so quickly Berach could hardly believe it, but he realized the boy's intentions more clearly.
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As Berach approached the tree and gazed upward he saw the young boy huddled with his knees to his chest sitting on a thick branch some two stories above, crying. Still there was no noise, but he could see the heaving motion of the boy's chest and make out the growing stain of tears upon his knees. Only a very few travelers were passing by, and none of them said a word. Only the soft crunch of dirt beneath feet could be heard as Berach stared up at the little boy. Berach started to speak, but stopped himself. Instead, he pulled his sword from his belt sat down with his back against the tree, laid his blade against his shoulder and closed his eyes. The boy will come down eventually. I might as well get some rest, he thought and gave into weariness.
#
Berach heard the soft thud of bare feet on grassy and root-knotted ground, barely audible among the rush of wind through the leaves. He never slept deeply, nor well, but was always ready to do violence on his own behalf. The boy's landing could not have been softer, but Berach snatched the boy's foot within mere moments of his landing throwing the sprightly young lad hurdling forward onto his face when he tried to take his next step. Berach dragged the boy backwards and drew him tightly to his chest. "Yer not going anywhere lad... not as yet anyway." His voice was rough and angry, but his eyes betrayed sadness. The boy struggled with hardly half his heart. For a time the two sat embracing. Passersby might have taken it for bonding, but it was Berach's way to keep the boy in check for the time being and little more.
It was a truly hot summer day, but now the sun was fading and the heat, moist and frustrating, began to give way to the gentle reprieve of night. The sun painted marvelous streaks of colour across the sky, staining the clouds as the painter retreated to gain his own reprieve beyond the horizon. The boy's struggling waned with the sunlight and he resigned himself to his captivity, but there seemed to be something paternal in Berach's actions, something that reminded the boy of Arthur, and he felt a strange sense of belonging.
After the sun had thoroughly retreated and the moon taken her place in glory Berach rose, still gripping the boy and decided it was time to leave. Embracing the relative stillness of night the two approached the town gate and Berach gave a sharp rap on the watchman's door to let them in. A comely young woman came to the gate and opened it for them, winked at Berach, and closed it after them. Berach gave her a glance, sizing her up in his mind, and then turned and walked away with the boy's hand in his. The two strode to a small inn by the main street and entered. Immediately the rank scent of sweat and alcohol assailed their nostrils as the door opened and the shifting torchlight tossed shadows in myriad directions around the patrons. Some were interesting, others bland, but the boy cared nothing for any of it, nor did Berach. Forcefully he marched up to the counter and asked the barkeep where he might pay for a room. The barkeep's grunt and nod toward a small, elderly man was the only reply. Berach approached the gentleman and inquired for a room. The man simply smiled greedily, held out his hand for payment, received the clink of two copper foots, withdrew his hand and gruffly said, "Upstairs, second door on your left. G'night lads."
Berach gave the man a nod and headed upstairs. The room was an insult to shabby, and only two thin bedrolls sat upon the wooden floor with a single blanket between the two. "Lousy as usual, but better than nothing eh, boy?" He nudged the boy's shoulder playfully and went to the bedroll closest to the door.
He sat down, grabbed the blanket and tossed it to the boy. "Use this. I know it ain't much, and ye certainly don't like me, but you'll never survive on yer own boy. The world's a harsh place. I am going to sleep. Run away if you want, I can't hardly think of a reason to keep ya 'round no more. Not sure why I dragged you out of them damnable woods to begin with..." Berach began to scratch his head self-consciously, and he jolted through the next words, "Sorry if I hurt ya, kid... I uh.... Nevermind."
Berach turned away from the boy, who stood in silence with the blanket lying at his feet. Within a few short moments Berach was asleep, and the boy remained there, watching. After a time, while Berach's breath slowed and came to a steady draw and snores began to rise, the boy picked up the blanket, wrapped himself in it and fell fast asleep.
