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Legend of the Arenders Chapter 4 & 5
The next morning after a frugal breakfast, Casimir packs up two full bags of belongings and swings them onto the horseback. His horse is a small yet stiff one, with short brass horsehair and shiny brown fur all over its body, except snow-white fluffy edges around the hooves. “Snow Hoof,” as he calls it. Casimir himself is dressed in the same clothes as yesterday except one more leather belt with a dagger and a hatchet hanging on to it, and a thick dark brown cloak with a deep hood for warmth. He then takes one more round in his house to check everything and locks the door. The sun is starting to become dazzling and hot in the sky. He mounts his horse and gallops down the high ground where the house stands and marches toward northeast. As the weather is still cool in morning, he rides across the streets and blocks of the city and rushes straight across the plains once he is out the north gate, feeling the wind whistling in his ears and the smell of fresh grass rolling over him, as the sound of the waves fade behind him and landscapes recede into a flying blur. He presses himself against the horseback and squints, the edge of his cloak flapping in the wind; he feels rather energetic and curious, for he hasn’t experienced the feeling of riding wildly for so long. The sky is blue and clear, dotted by sparse white clouds floating softly under the golden daylight. In the distance, the Phoenix Wall can be seen standing tall and majestic, blocking the morning sun from being fully revealed to the west side.
The horse runs north in the direction of the wall for a long time. Grasses grow thicker and longer as Casimir approaches the part of the plain where a large fuscous wood can be observed in the front. He slows down and looks out, his horse snorting. He trots all the way to a large rock in front of the woods, feeling some coolness. There is a faint path leading to the edge of the woods, but it almost disappears as soon as it brings Casimir under the trees. He picks a way among trees, and his horse plods along, carefully treading through the many writhing and interlacing roots. There is only a little undergrowth, and the ground is rising slightly while the woods become taller, darker, and thicker. No sound can be heard, except occasional drops of moisture dripping through the leaves and the soft humming of insects in the branches. He takes a deep breath and goes on. These woods are mainly occupied by elm trees and some camphor trees.
He rides through the deep green and brown for about two hundred yards until he comes to the part of the forest where the light grows clearer, and the trees grow sparser. Suddenly he comes out of the trees and finds himself in a wide clearing encircled by several oaks around the edge. There is the sky above him, blue and clear as usual, but the sun is not high enough yet to shine down into the clearing, its light only lingering on the treetops. The glade is full of rough grass and some plants such as hemlocks and wood parsley. Casimir dismounts from the horse and sits down on a flat rock for a short rest. It seems to be a charming garden in the dense forest. At the far side there is a break in the thick wall of trees, and a faint path beyond it. The path runs on into the woods again, the trees overshadowing it with their dark boughs.
At length he proceeds again and is still climbing gently. The trees draw close on either side, and the sound of the horse’s hooves rustling on the fallen leaves echoes in his ears. At noon he eats a midday meal---a leftover corncake from yesterday--- quietly on the horseback while travelling slowly. The dark trees draw aside, and birches come into sight. The path is flat and straight forward again for another hundred yards, till Casimir can see in some distance off, a treeless hill rising out of the forest. He hurries forward and reaches the barren hilltop. Ahead, as far as the eye could see, lies a vast expanse of rolling hills under afternoon sun, though there are still patches of trees scattered about the landscape. He rides down along the meandering road. The ground falls steeply, and soon it begins to descend steadily to the left. After an hour or two the hills on either side become taller, catching Casimir in the middle; the ground grows soft; little streams appear in the fold, trickling and babbling through the weedy bed. The afternoon is wearing away after he has stumbled along for some way along the stream and finally out of the valley. Coming to the opening, he finds the late sunshine of the afternoon lying warmly upon the land of grass and reeds. Casimir goes on for perhaps another couple of miles. Then the sun is setting, and the gleam of the sunset is altogether glorious on the open field when the wind sweeps over his face, and he starts to realize his growing hunger after the day’s tiring jolts. Nevertheless, he still decides to go on for some distance before dark.
In front of him again lies a stretch of heavily wooded hills running east and west. With diminishing heat from the sun, the temperature drops rapidly, and strangely it is growing especially windy on the field; granules of sands fly into Casimir’s eyes. He puts on the hood of his cloak and gallops up in a hurry. “Keep on, my horse. Tonight we will rest in the hill woods where the air is steady,” he murmurs. He then advances onto the hill, gets down from the horse and leads it slowly into the trees. He prefers some gentle walk before rest time to stretch his weary legs that have been rubbed against the saddle for an entire day. When he has walked for about one hour, he decides to rest. The night is clear, cool, and starry, although the stars cannot be observed clearly among the swaying birches in a light wind which make a thick net against the pale sky above his head. There is a deeply cloven track between the bushes covered by dry leaves and a low spot by the side of the road, and on its side lies a large broken tree with a deep hole on the back. Casimir contemplates camping there, for it seems to be a suitable place where he can find a clearing where grass grows around and hide from the path. He heads down, exploring the hole, and then unloads the luggage from the horseback. The horse is released to feed itself with the grass, and he starts to work vigorously on pitching his small tent and gathering firewood in the dim light. Another half hour passes, and luckily, he has gained enough dried branches and cones to make a small fire using his hatchet. Soon he has a merry crackle of flame on the clearing, and he sits down by it for a while, until he begins to cook some hams and potato slices from his bag in a small pot. He eats quietly in front of the tent while studying the surroundings that he has been to perhaps half a year ago. When he finishes eating, the moonlight has already penetrated the leaves and shines down on his shoulders. It is too late to find water nearby to clean the pot, so he sucks the oil out of it with some clean leaves and wraps it up.
Casimir ties the horse to a fir tree, stroking its soft fur, and then curls up in his cloak and blanket in the tent. Before falling asleep, he reflects on the talk with the Arenders again. “I hope it will not be a problem,” he murmurs to himself, “and perhaps Mom will agree and advise me if it is not too risky…” He looks up into the sky but cannot see the Nine Stars inside the leaf covering. With thoughts whirling in his head, Casimir throws himself upon the soft mat and falls at once into a dreamless slumber. A few animals passing by peek at the tent when the fire dies away, and a rabbit stops beside it for several minutes and sniffs the remaining smell of the supper.
Lennox wakes up late in the morning after the night with Casimir, and his head is still somehow dowsy after all the complex considerations. But he quickly puts himself into work again---they must be ready to set out at any moment---perhaps with Casimir, or rather not. He hasn’t had time to think about that yet, for there are more necessary preparations. He gets out of bed and puts on clean garments of dark green cloth. At that moment there’s a knock at the door, and Jonah comes in quietly and runs to Lennox: “Hullo, Lex. Did you sleep well?” “Sure. Ahh…we must start packing now, I think?” “I’m ready. Let’s start after breakfast. They have already reported the whole thing to the mayor, including our planned route. Here is the order letter, look,” Jonah pulls out a parchment from his pocket, “and we will sign on it.” “Good.”
COUNTRY OF LEORILIEN ARENDER ORDER
A JOURNY FROM PHOENIXFORD THROUGH THE CONTINENT TO THE INLAND; IN PURPOSE TO FIND OUT NECESSARY INFORMATION AND EXPLORE THE CURRENT WORLD.
Eight Arenders in total; plus one selected guide
All the support for the journey borne by the mayor of Phoenixford.
Greetings to the inland lords and folks from East Leorilien, represented by mayor Eorl, captain Lennox Nightsailor and their fellows
Signings: Eorl ,
The Arenders decide to bring eight horses each carrying all the basic luggage of one member, including clothes, tents, large field ration packages and pots, sleeping bags, and simple medical supplies all packed in no more than four larger parcels bound together by ropes and all into a huge cowhide bag on the horseback. Lennox advises them to bring some necessary resources close to themselves---in their backpacks--- so that they could still sustain the journey for a while even if the luggage is lost for whatever reasons on the road. They spend nearly four hours collecting and sorting those things and sharpening their swords and arrows, followed by a quick lunch eaten in a rush. When the sun starts to set and the wind starts to blow, they finish the work of the day, and Lennox goes upstairs in the Arender’s House to write a short diary and take a nap. As the evening draws on, Lennox wakes up again, and he finds that he urgently needs some food and drinks, and probably some amusement after the weary day. He goes downstairs to the first floor and steps outside onto the meadow under the starry night sky. Meanwhile a servant interrupts him: “Finally you have taken enough rest, master Lennox. Mayor Eorl wishes to see you and serve you Arenders a fine feast before your departure.” He leads Lennox along several passages and lanes and out of the Arender’s place and up many steps southward into a high garden above a stream very close to the Mayor’s Hall. Lennox finds his friends, and Eorl in a plain robe, sitting on a long porch among the warm firelight. The sound of the running water can be heard clearly, and the smell of trees and flowers can be perceived especially in this place in the middle of summer. Not only trays of ambrosia like colorful fruit juices and fishes and meats and fresh vegetables and sweet breads are presented, but there is also fine perfume whose smell is spread by the night wind, and fair plants from west Leorilien lands which are grown all over the edge, encircling the company in the middle.
“Come on, my Nightsailor. We’ve been waiting for you. Seems like you are overwhelmed by the work?” Eorl greets him with a smile. Escorting himself beside the mayor, Lennox replies humorously: “Better than being overwhelmed on the trip, huh?” Throughout the meal they talk together, but Lennox listens more than he speaks, for he wishes to have a cool mind and save his energy these days before spending it wholly on the further unknown beyond the wildland.
The feast is well celebrated though---Karl and Jonah and Reece, the three who are good at music, play instruments for the company and sing merrily for a while. At first the melodies and the interwoven words are in old language and tunes, as an epical chanting held in a spell. Then the audience can clearly feel the piece of work take shape, and Lennox can perceive through the tones the vision of vast lands, where never any light has shone, beneath the stars under the clouds, and snow melting into trickling drops which then converge into a silver stream that runs down all the way to sea. The enchantment grows more and more dreamlike, until he feels a golden mist above the seas of foam that pushes him into a margin of universe with no pattern to be comprehended but that can drench and drown him. He does not resist that feeling and sinks under its shining weight into a deep realm of internal balance, like asleep, but not quite.
A a round of applause brings him back into reality. Eorl begins to speak: “Friends, little do we know what lies beyond. If Underwood denies going with you, what will you do? How long shall we be waiting for his response? This is a serious matter. You need time to find a clue.”
“We’ll wait for at least two more days, I think,” Lennox puts down his drink, “he goes north across the forests and fields to visit his mother and ask for further instructions regarding the affair dealing with his family history issues. We also need some rest after one patrol. What makes you so hasty and serious, mayor? You are a rather patient person as I knew.”
“You haven’t known what happened these days, captain. But I better let all of you know this after all the astonishing tales from the Old North. Two weeks ago, a group of strange travelers---seems like thirty or so indigenous folks from inland but in haggard appearances; some were dwarves, but some were of a less than savory nature---arrived here and went straight to my hall to ask me for some supplies, saying that they are sailing to the archipelago. I asked why they leave native land and where they are from. The leader, a peculiar dwarf wearing a silver belt, answered me rather nervously. ‘Lord, I recommend you not to interfere too much on this and just protect your own well-being unless troubles come to interfere with you first,’ he told me, ‘Our home is not habitable anymore and we are deprived of necessities. Those from the far north know nothing more than to fight and rob.’ I asked him to be specific, but they were in a rush and dared not to cause panic. ‘If you don’t know yourself, lord,’ he said, ‘then perhaps it is not for me to tell the details.’ So I gave them food and clothes and let them go. At first, I thought it was just conflicts between tribes which had driven the weaklings mad. But after knowing so many things, I dare say it is proof for the breaking of peace. It’s no coincidence. All these things are just too sudden.”
“Unexpected indeed,” Geong continues, “but all at once we will solve the puzzle. No more worrying now, friends, and we’ll soon deal with these problems one by one.”
When the feast is over, Lennox and Jonah return to sit in the Arender’s House and chat for a bit, while looking through the window at the bright stars above the steep-climbing woods. They talk about nothing big and dangerous that might encompass them, but of small news and fair things about their homeland, of the creatures, foods, activities, folks, and all these years of working together. Lennox Nightsailor takes out his little red book and writes something in ink during part of the conversation. Finally, they are both tired of talking and the night becomes totally quiet. “I must remember the things well and write complete diaries of the coming stories if we return someday. But now good night, Jonah! I’ll lay in bed and sleep as I wish, tomorrow we shall learn more about our route and the obstacles we might face. Sleep well!” Jonah then departs, walking all the way to his own room and sniffing the sweet evening air. The woven nets of gossamer twinkle while reflecting the silver moonlight and swaying with the wind. So it is, a peaceful moment before venturing into the storm turbulence.
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