Free WORRLGENHALL by Monica Luke

said, “Look at them.”
    The trees reaching high into the heavens, if one were to climb them, starting at dawn, by dus k he still would not have reached its peak, “Strong sturdy timbers for fortresses.”
    “ Far away these timbers are,” the man added.
    “ Such is true, and still WorrlgenHall came to be from timbers afar…”
    Again, Orem looked out.
    “This night,” Orem ordered, “Gather fifty men and surprise them by burning two villages and by dawn, I swear we will have a messenger.”
    That night, just as Orem ordered, fifty men laid waste to two villages, and such was the fire they left, all could see it from high into the hills, yet even in the king’s fury, he was merciful and ordered any boy not yet of age and the women unharmed.
    Orem ’s words true, at dawn a warning horn sounded that a messenger approached, and as was his place, he rode out to talk to the messenger.
    “ What do you seek in our land?” the messenger asked Orem, “That you return to again defile it.”
    “ No less than three times were you chances to leave. You forced our hand,” Orem answered, before he noticed Baric’s knife tucked in his belt, “Now the king’s son lay near death and you flaunt his knife.”
    “ I have it with me to give back…” he replied quickly; then examined it once more admiring it, “It is well made and only a high born should own it.”
    “ I will have it…” Orem said loudly, as he spurred his horse forward, but after it trotted a few paces, he stopped, “Throw it into the earth.”
    The man gritted, as the expression on his face turned from two speaking mutually respectful to one contemptuous of the other, then as fast as a blink, his arm raised and the knife flew from his grip.
    His aim accurate and unfortunately deadly, it sank deep into Orem ’s throat making him caw as he grabbed at its handle before he slumped sideways off his horse to the ground dead.
    All watched stunned at Orem briefly ignoring the man that immediately fled afterwards.
    “ Laad,” Bayl soon called out, his eyes now lifted from Orem and fixed on the man swiftly fleeing.
    When he heard his name, Laad hurried to the front line to Bayl.
    “ Yes, my lord,” he said, as he moved his horse beside his.
    “ He flees hard and fast, can you stop him?”
    Laad looked ahead and saw he was riding swift and hard, slightly bent forward as he did. “I do not know, my lord.”
    “ I have seen you take the smallest bird down with an arrow as it flies…” Bayl spoke, as with each word the man’s distance grew, “He is a bird that flies.”
    Quickly , Laad grabbed his bow; then nocked the arrow. Then as he judged the man’s distance in front of him, he inhaled and locked his eyes on his target, as he pulled his bowstring with full strength, careful not exhale until he released it.
    As all sat waiting, a great hush came across the open land, as their heads tilted high while their eyes widened and followed the arrow ’s graceful sail through the air.
    Whistling as it did, it seemed to last long and as his d istance widened, many murmured fearing it wouldn’t reach him, but as it sailed the wind seemed to take possession of it propelling it forward.
    “ It will not reach him,” one groaned to the other.
    “ Look!” Another’s mouth dropped suddenly.
    Although at first doubtful, they sat amazed as the arrow glided high a little more, then descended and honed right into the man’s spine, then as he grunted and fell forward, still on his horse, he disappeared into the trees.
    When he disappeared into them, a loud shout echo ed out with men charging wildly from two directions, but unlike the first battle, now on higher ground, the king’s men had the upper hand.
    Forcing the men of the lowland to fight moving upward, the guilds on their horses charged down, each one of killing three of theirs, but the battle was far from over.
    “ Be wary of their blades,” Belon warned Bayl and the king, who fought alongside the others