THE KING’S RING

 THE KING’S RING

[A story I wrote]

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In those later days, the world had changed, for as always with the nature of men change comes with forgetting the days that proceeded it. The many long years of peace and civility were eroding away into the resentfulness and disregard of their father’s lore. The children had grown into their own and become hard-pressed to refashion the world after their own desires.

There came a time one spring of great feasting in the King’s Hall in Mithar, when, in their midst, an unannounced stranger stood. The man dressed all in black came even before the King’s throne itself, saying, “Oh great lord of Eriduah, do you even know the reason for your feasting, and its same declaration throughout your realm? Sire would that you embellished its stature with heroic games of sport, and recall the day’s origin and the battle which won the day’s call for such rejoicing. For if not sire, this celebration, without a definition is but a hollow and vain event, save only to fill the gluttonous bellies of fools ignorant of their past.”

The music halted as dancers stood still in their steps, smiles fell even as the king rose to his feet, “Harsh words from a stranger in my court. But they are true nonetheless, come and enlighten us – ignorant fools, that we may have a better reason for full bellies and warm hearts.”

“Then listen to my tale, Oh court of the King,” said the man in black who turned about to that listening people. “Baranal, am I, come from Uruk to enlighten your king, Gadreel in the real cause for celebration. “One hundred fifty-seven years ago from this very day sire, a man named Mahelabreth, and his wife Azureth were slaughtered, along with the company of thirty souls who gathered to cross into this new realm. As with so many immigrants, before them, had done in search of a place to call home, people were horrifically cut down by a ravenous band of goblins seeking to return to their caves in the Iron Hills. Word reached Mahelabreth’s brother, Jaravil a merchant of Uruk who quickly rose up arms to rout out that fleeing horde.

“Oh, King Gadreel and to your listening court, hear now these words, for in the aftermath of that vengeful onslaught a lone hostage, who was before unknown, was eagerly recovered. It was none other than the only child and daughter of Azureth, Awan herself! Rescued from those cruel beasts Awan declared they sought only to live among her uncle’s people in Uruk. So, tender her face and touching her tale that the city’s high lord, Rakeel desired to wed her and gift all her heart’s desire, though sadden he could never bring back those whom she had lost.

“King Gadreel of Mithar and you people of his realm, I tell you these things only that you may not forget the wedding feast celebrated that, this very day now; and the long years of peace and reason Goblins fear your lands. Know, also sire, that from the union of those two was birthed my very own grandfather’s grandfather, Kennan the smith who made the king that rides upon your noble finger, King of Mithar.” With that tale told Baranal, the man in black took a knee before that lord.

Gadreel looked down at his hand where the mithril, seven-pointed star was inlaid into a black onyx stone, and wrapped as a finely decorative golden ring.

The king removed the seal of his office and held it up high before the people to see. Then, stepping down from his raised seat the king said to the kneeling man before him, “Rise Sir Baranal and accept this gift as a memorial of your father’s love. From henceforth you shall be known to the people as a Chief of Records. For in sharing this tale you shall be gifted that very battlefield land and a manor raised upon it, befitting a nobleman; Baranal, son of Awan and Rakeel, in having kept and researched that which we forgot. You deserve recognition and praise for that we shall remember what has gone on before us.”

In accepting the ring that court burst into celebration once more, only now did they have a much better understanding for their joy.

A LOST BOY?

 A LOST BOY?

--(A story with a little dark humor I wrote)---

There was a boy named Ungon who was on his first hunt. Along the way, he had become lost, and his people were far behind him. Then he came upon a rugged piece of land, mountainous with jutting sharp rocks in a desolate area. His water container was near empty as was his rations depleted. Things were feeling hopeless. His strength was nearly spent.

When he suddenly happened upon a foreign camp. Strange voices off in the distance drew him closer to a group of shaggy, dark men who smelled like they knew not the meaning of a bath. More creatures than men. Some had tusks curving up from their mouths and boar ears, or horns on the side of their heads. Coming closer to the light of their camp and seeing their features better melted away all of Ungon’s weary troubles as only escape came to mind.

Braving the courage, he cleared his throat, asking, “Who are you?”

Startled they whirled about from the fire to the young man’s direction “What are you, we ask instead?”

“A morsel me thinks, but more bone than meat,” said another.

“I am a boy, Ungon is my name.” He declared, looking at the path behind him.

“The boy has a name for itself, how sweet,” the four creatures laughed in unison.

“What – what are you – things,” Ungon asked?

“Things? Boggers, Drogs, Hobgoblins, Orcs, takes your pick, Meat, and Bones, makes no difference after you’re eaten,” said the largest and closest goblin.

“What does it call itself?”

“Listen up, Duggnek! It called itself a boy,” declared the smallest of the four.

“Said its sweet name of Ungon.”

“I still says more bones than meat is this one here,” Duggnek wiped his leaking mouth.

“It’s all bone.”

“Some meat there, Noge.”

“I am a man on my first hunt.”

“I say, rather a boy on his last hunt, instead,” Noge laughed, and the others joined in.

“What you be hunten man-boy?”

“I was hunting rabbit then came upon a deer and then lost my way,” Ungon confessed.

“Rabbit, less bones than this one,” said Noge.

“Deer got more meat than him,” laughed Duggnek.

“Thinks he found Goblin instead, sad little lost man-boy did,” They all laughed, even the boy. Then they fell silent leaving Ungon laughing by himself.

“Man!”

“Man, and meat, all the same, Borge,” Duggnek nodded to his companion.

“And this one is lost nonetheless, ain’ts he?” Noge snickered to himself rubbing his hands together.

“Lost, then eaten says I, Noge.”

“Bokrah, I says hes lost and alone ands dats no good way to be, says we helps em,” Noge replied.

“I – I hates being alone,” Duggnek sighed.

“And lost, don’t forget lost!” The other three laughed, then Noge added, “Duggnek, You are always lost and alone.” They laughed even harder.

The boy said softly, “Well, no one likes being lost or alone, not even fine goblins like yourselves.” They stopped laughing and just stood there staring at the boy, who went on pitifully, “I do not like being lost, because now I feel so foolish.”

“Oh no, a foolish lost boy, that's no good havin.”

Ungon tried not to cry though his face looked like he wanted to, “Yes a foolish boy, thank you for making me feel even worse now.”

Duggnek stood up, twice as large as the lost hunter, “Well we can'ts have this poor man-boy feelen so horrible canwe? I says we takes em home – and quietly so.”

“Now, whose talking foolishness – what you mean take em home?” Noge was furious.

But Borge injected, “No, no, no there’ll be more men, meatier and less bones Im sure of it.”

Bokrah spoke up, “Now there is a plan to stand behind, lets take the rabbit hunten boy-man to wheres more man-meat tis.”

Ungon smiled happily, “Would you? Goblins are not so bad after all!”

They laughed deviously with watering mouths, “That’s what wes likes ta hear now,” Borge said.

“But –“ Duggnek began. Then Noge elbowed him in the stomach, “No buts here, we are just glad to help the boy to where more men are. Understand now?”

“Gratitude to you all, I think I came from this way.” Ungon, thought hard.

"That's right, lost boy we gonna shows its da way home," Duggnek laughed.

The four coarse-haired, smelly creatures followed him as if they were leading the way, “Yep, Is smells em this a way, lets keep goin boy-man.”

“Says his name is Rabbit,” Duggnek stumbled.

“No he didn’t, says its name was Ungon-deer,” Noge sounded smarter.

“Yes, that is right we are going the right way,” Ungon waved them on to follow him.

THEN at that moment, from behind razor-high rocks and surrounding brush fourteen spear-armed men jumped onto the scene hastily jabbing and slaying the four Hobgoblins!

"Nephew, you did far better than I did on my first hunt in taking two elk," Ungon's uncle praised.

"Son, I am so very proud of you!" His father beamed, watching as the others in the party cut the creature's heads off, then raising them on tall pikes.

Ungon said, "Gratitude, now that should serve as a warning that this passage of the Irons Hills is off limits to anyone else."

The four raised heads looked stunned, caught in their silent screams.

...

DISCLOSED SECRETS, The Argument

 DISCLOSED SECRETS, The Argument

--(A story I wrote)---

The gray stone Manor that overlooked the Bay of Luhnn’s harbor was a beautiful house, but it was about to no longer be a home. Something was wrong. The merchant, Baldon sat at his dining table. A letter lay in front of him, and the four-stemmed candle holder of the Prophets. Its light nor the letter gave the old man any encouragement as the letter was like a cold wind from the past. His youngest son came home and entered the room looking just as pale as his father. “Son there is something I need to tell you. Forgive me, but I feel I should have shared it with you years ago.”

The young man stood a chair distant from the ancient figure, “Yes, father?”

Baldon’s voice was dry and broke, “ This - This is not easy, but I have withheld it long enough from you, and it will be yours to know from here.”

The thin figure placed a resting arm on the back of the chair but remained silent.

The senior’s eyes glanced at a side table where a decanter of wine sat, then sighed, “Your mother and I are not your parents. Well, I am your father, but Sil'renda – ” He sighed again without the wine’s courage, “Sil'renda is not the woman who gave birth to you, and Sil'ynthia is not your sister either.”

“So, no one is who they were?”

Quickly the man said, “I am your father and Cal'an is your brother. Just - I married a woman named Linlus of Uruk. But she became sick, well, for another man and left us. I put her away by law, and then came to the city of Mithar. In time, I met Sil'renda of Elosh, at the Gate market. She had a daughter by another husband, one who used to beat them both horribly, but they ran away and left him by law. Sil'renda and I married, and so she became your mother and Sil'ynthia became your sister.

“I see.”

The numb words hit his father, “Are you – alright son?”

“Does Cal'an know this?”

“Yes.”

“How – long has Cal'an known?”

The old man grew ancient, “Being much older than you, your brother Cal'an grew up knowing things”

The younger’s face grew red, “And only now you tell me. For what reason?”

The father felt the cold wind return, “Linlus desires to meet with you.”

Silence.

“Fayendar, son?”

“What have I to say?”

“I just felt you should know.” The old man Baldon had finally let the secret go.

“I see. I should have known. It was only because she contacted you with the desire of meeting me, which forced your hand in telling me now. Did I get that correct, father?

It was his turn to sound numb, “I was wrong for not telling you, Fayendar.”

“Did I get that correct, father?”

“Yes, son.”

“What else is there?”

“Nothing.”

Suddenly the youngest son’s own two feet were strong enough to stand on his own, he released the chair beside him, “Well father I have news of my own to share. I came home, to tell you today, instead of waiting twenty-seven years.”

“I deserved that.” Baldon blinked.

His son’s words were like ice, “We do not always get what we deserve and many times –“ Then he came out with his own secret to disclose, “I was Disfellowshipped by the Council of Elders from the religious Order today, father.”

“What is this is horrible news you bring me!” The old man shouted

The son’s words were cut off, “Worse than learning –“

It was Baldon’s turn to be red-faced, “You have disgraced your family!”

Fayendar’s ice was above a whisper, “Which family is that father?”

But Baldon raged on, “I am serious, Fayendar! We shall be –“

He cut his father’s words off, “There is no we, father. There is an I, and I will be the one you shunned. I will be the one cut off from the family, and from my friends, and- ignored by everyone when I walk through the city market like I am not even there. I - I father, not you, not we. Oh, yes – yes you may get the looks and whispers behind your back for having such a wicked son! But you know all too well those very things because of the way you treated others for years, who were ostracized from the gathering of God! What does my petty loss, or pain have to do with anything, other than with the shame brought upon you? It is not like I was special enough to even know about my own mother! What other lies are there to learn? What investment of care did you put in me as a person, Lord of Baldon of the gray Manner?

The old man’s eyes blinked hard, for his son never spoke such before, “What was it you did?”

“So now you ask. I asked questions father, I desired to learn and so I asked questions, but asking questions is forbidden. Questions instigate doubt in others, and it is not total submission to the Order, now, is it? – I should have known all along my entire life was a lie? My religion was a snare built on lies.”

His father yelled, “How dare you say such blasphemous things in this house!”

But the son replied calmly, “A word you have lived your life not knowing the meaning to. Goodbye father, this seems to be the last time we will ever talk again.”

Baldon was disgusted and shouted, “Apostate, be gone!”

......