Free The Great Darkening (Epic of Haven Trilogy) by R.G. Triplett Page B

years. The journey on its own would not be an easy one, but now that it was compounded with lessening of the amber light, he realized it might be trickier than he first had anticipated.
    Since his parents had raised him with the words of hope and tales of beauty that the bygone Poets had once freely taught throughout all of Haven, Cal, instead of turning to grey thoughts of loss, chose to brighten his journey a bit with a song his mother used to sing to him as a young boy.
    “You can see, you can see if you want to.
    You can do, you can do what you ought to.
    If you choose not to lose the light that’s in you,
    You can see, you can be, you can do most anything—
    and you’ll get to.”
    The sound of the river Abonris and his mother’s song kept Cal and Dreamer company on the lonely trek northward. The light of the tree continued to fade with each league that the two of them progressed, but something inside of Cal, at least for the moment, seemed bright enough to light their way safely.
    As Cal came within sight of the gate on the northernmost part of Piney Creek, he began to feel the weariness of the road, for they had been traveling for the better part of the day. It was now deep evening, and the amber light of the great tree had long since faded into its softer silver color.
    The sounds of life and laughter were still lingering upon the night air of Piney Creek, so Cal let his eyes search the lit windows of the humble stone houses for a sign of hospitality. He spied a tavern straight ahead; its lights were still burning brightly and the sounds of life still echoed from its walls. He encouraged Dreamer onward, ready for a small respite and a hot meal before their journey continued.
    As they approached the tavern, another thought crossed his mind. I should probably ask someone who actually knows these parts where it is exactly that the main cutter camp is currently situated .
    He focused his gaze on the tavern ahead and spoke aloud to Dreamer. “These woodcutters move their camp quite often, always chasing the trees like they are hunting them. The last thing I want is to get ourselves lost out there in the dark middle of nowhere … or worse.”
    The wounded horse snorted in agreement.
    For now, he hoped that his answers lay somewhere where he could rest his tired bones and fill his empty belly with something warm and tasty. “What do you think, girl? This place looks as good as any, right?”
    He dismounted Dreamer and hitched her to the post outside the tavern, taking a moment to give her an apple and a kind word of thanks for her dutiful progress throughout the day.
    The “Gnarly Knob” was as accurate a description as a place like this could possibly have. The tavern seemed altogether twisted and maybe a bit crooked too, though the weatherworn patrons lent credence to the name along with its rugged décor. The floors were a patchwork of long-aged clapboards, while the tables were made out of twisted old tree stumps; most of the patrons who sat at the bar and dined at the twisted stumps were the kind of folk who could make a life in the places most others wouldn’t dare to try.
    Cal took a seat at the half-full bar as the tavern owner, a curly-haired man on the downward side of middle age, limped his way over in a manner that suggested both the kindness of his hospitality and the amiable nature of his disposition.
    “The name is Shameus,” he said as he gave the traveler a quick once-over. “The boys and I can see that you are not from these parts … and since we don’t get many people who happen to be on holiday this way, I am quite obliged to ask what kind of business you are up to here in the dark North?”
    “Well sir, my name is Cal, and to be honest, I am in the business of finding a good, hot meal to fill my belly, and maybe a warm bed to make rest in. I’ve been riding all day and most of the night, and I fear I have quite a bit more riding to do before I reach the cutter camp,” Cal said