[OOC => this thread is for the purpose of exploring the background and history of a character /OOC]


He paced the room. Long strides, one, two, three, four, then turn and back again. His boots made a sharp sound against the wooden floorboards with every step, and he lost himself in this unchanging rhythmic knocking. He was moving on autopilot, deep in thought.

How could it ever have happened? He was prohibited from marrying but of course he needed an occasional companion to stave off long nights of loneliness, so naturally over the years there had been many concubines to grace his bed. Nothing to be guilty about, of course...even the kingdom sorcerer needed close physical contact. But for this to happen...it was a disaster, no other word for it. The only minor good point in it all was that she had told him early, so at least he had the chance to decide what to do about this situation.

They had been lying together in his bed after a long night of pleasure. It was then she sprang it on him, and he had been rendered totally speechless with shock. "You're going to have a son" had been her exact words; how she knew it would be a boy he had no idea. Not that it made any difference...boy or girl, it should never have happened. She should have taken precautions! She should have ensured that it would never happen. It was her responsibility! But...it had happened. And somehow it needed to be fixed.

She had left the room shortly after breaking the news to him. His prolonged silence had bothered her; she thought he should be brimming with happiness and joy, but he had barely been able to say a word. She couldn't have known it, but he was in shock at what he had gotten himself into.

He couldn't possibly have a child of his in the king's court. There were penalties for breaking the law that stated sorcerers to the king could not have children. Of course, it had happened in the past, that was inevitable. But it didn't matter...he was the king's brother and sorcerer, he was supposed to be better than the rest, to have more restraint, more self-control. The king himself, his own brother, would not be pleased, nor would he ignore the crime. He expected great things from him, wanted him to give example to everyone else...but not this kind of example.

Something would have to be done. His mistress couldn't have his child. It just wouldn't work. He considered for a moment, then headed towards the door; he would have to go to talk to her. It wouldn't be easy, but it had to be done. She had to know that the child could not come to be. There were people in the town that could sort out problems like that, quickly and easily and with a minimum of pain. She hadn't carried the child long enough for that to be a problem.

He yanked open the door and walked with purpose toward her quarters, confident that he would be able to solve this tricky situation speedily.

He walked slowly into his room, pulling the door behind him. Sitting down heavily on the bed he put his head in his hands, wondering what on earth he was going to do.

The talk with his mistress hadn't gone so well as he would have liked. When he arrived at her quarters she had all but jumped on him in her enthusiasm and joy at carrying his child. She talked about what they would call him, who he'd resemble, the wonderful man he would grow up to be; none of which he really wanted to hear, considering what he wanted to talk to her about. But he had been forced to sit and listen to her dreamings, not able to get a word in edgeways.

Suddenly though, a very strange thing had happened. Between one moment and the next, without him realizing what was happening, he began to picture what she was talking about in his mind - Saw his son take his first steps, say his first words. Take up his first practice sword. Fumble through his first experiments in magic, if he inherited his father's gift. Develop into a man that would make his parents proud. Tolvyn had begun to feel a peculiar sensation inside of him. Warm, fuzzy. The beginnings of love for his unborn son. And he knew then that he wanted this birth to come to pass, somehow. He couldn't have any part in getting rid of it; after all, this was his son! He lost all of his inclination to broach that particular subject.

Their meeting had ended with a while of intimate pleasure; his heart wasn't quite in it, or at least not until Nasia had drawn his hand over her slightly swollen belly and held it flat upon it. Then it seemed like his whole being strained for any sense of life under his hand; for a moment he thought he could feel the vaguest hint of a heartbeat, but he knew there couldn't be anything so early in the pregnancy. Still though, he left with a bubbling feeling in his chest and felt like dancing all the way back to his quarters. He was going to be a father!

As he made his way back to his room, though, the weight of what he was now involved in seemed to accumulate on his shoulders, and now back in his room he needed to think deeply on his options.

Whether or not he wanted this son to happen, the fact remained that he was forbidden to continue his line. It had been a law of the kingdom for as long as there had been kings, and any king's sorcerer to break that law was dealt with severely. He had no wish to have his head skewered on a spike above the city gates as a deterrent to others. The risk would be great if the child was born; if he was discovered there would be two other heads besides his own above the gates. He had his fair share of enemies, none of whom would hesitate to bring it to his brother's attention. There were even numerous of his "friends" that would sacrifice him to curry favour with the king.

The child or mother couldn't stay in the city, that was certain. Even if Nasia kept the secret close to her heart and he was never seen with her again, they still wouldn't be safe; too many people had seen them together in the past, knew what their relationship had been. Questions would be asked when the child was born, especially since Nasia was one of those rare concubines that kept to only one man at any given time. Even though there couldn't be any proof, rumours in this place were almost as destructive as blatant facts.

They would have to be placed somewhere far away from the city. But still, there were problems. Nasia couldn't keep up her present occupation in some remote location, especially with a child. His child. But she had no other means to get by, no other skills to help her survive. She couldn't manage to feed both herself and the child without help. Of course, he could supply her with coin, but that wouldn't work for long. Tongues would wag even in remote villages, wondering where this woman procured her gold; wondering and speculating about which high-ranking noble had sired the child. That couldn't be allowed to happen.

There was a possible solution; a risky one, but perhaps less risky than any of the alternatives. Tolvyn had been trained in the ways of the woodland by an old ranger in the service of his father, some years ago. Durnik was his name, Durnik Halfhand. In the two years he had apprenticed to him they had grown very close, although it was now a few years since they had last met. As far as he knew, the man currently lived in a small village on the edges of the great forest to the east. If Durnik could be persuaded to take in Nasia and his son and live in the pretense of husband and wife, things might turn out ok. Although he would rarely see his son with him so far away, they would at least be safe. If Durnik was agreeable and didn't inform his brother, that is.

But it had to be risked. It seemed to be the best way...the only way, really. He would have to visit the ranger and ask for his help.

Tolvyn regularly queried riders from that direction on his old friend's good health. None would think it strange if he finally decided to travel and rekindle the friendship; there was nothing of urgency happening in the kingdom at present, nothing that might require a sorcerer. He would set out as soon as possible, later today if he could get his things in order. Haste was a necessity, the quicker he could arrange to have Nasia and the unborn baby move in with Durnik the better. Then at least the child could be passed off as Durnik's own.

Resolution reached, he sprung into action. Calling to the guards on his door to have his horse readied, he gathered together the few things he would need for his three-day journey to the forest. He would leave within the hour.

No one had passed comment when he informed his brother that he would be gone for a little over a week, in search of an old friend. After all, he was the king's sorcerer; he could do as he liked and goes where he pleased, for the most part. There was no pressing need of him in the kingdom at the moment, no reason why he shouldn't take a short break away from the hustle and bustle of the busy city. His brother the king had also trained under Durnik, although for a shorter time, and he wished him luck in his search.

Now the third day of his so-far uneventful journey was drawing to a close as he reached the edge of the great forest. Its vast area had been on the horizon since the morning of the day before, gradually getting closer and closer, but only now was it before him. The track he had been riding on turned now to meander along its borders in both directions, keeping so close to it that in places tree branches hung low over the path, perilous to a rider. He had spoken briefly the previous day to a man heading towards the market in the city with a cartful of farm produce; he knew that the closest village to this branching in the path was to the right, and it was this way he chose. He wanted to find some sort of lodgings for the night before darkness fell.

It wasn't long before he reached the small settlement, set a little away from the forest. Dusk was beginning to take hold now and few people were visible on the single street, but at the end of the village was a decent-sized inn with an attached stable. Surprising in a small village; presumably it was the only inn for miles around, though, and drew in people from other nearby habitations. He certainly wasn't about to complain at the prospect of hot food and a warm dry bed for the night. Also, the chances were good that someone here would know the whereabouts of Durnik. If not in this village, hopefully in one of the others nearby. Tolvyn tied his horse to a convenient post outside the inn and pushed through the door.

The common room was almost empty, only a few men in a corner with tankards in front of them. Behind the bar was a short stocky man who presumably took care of everything, serving food and drink without any help, at least at this time. Everyone looked up as he entered and the room went silent; strange travelers weren't so regular an occurrence. The man looked normal, though - dressed simply in a cloak, breeches and leather boots, no weapons to be seen, no distinguishing marks on his face. What conversation there was quickly struck up again and the men returned their gazes to their drinks. Evidently the King's Sorcerer wasn't so well known in these parts. It was probably for the best, he didn't need word of his journey carried back to the court.

He walked up to the barkeep, taking a seat on one of the many stools in front of the counter. If anyone knew where Durnik was it would be this man; listening to gossip all day was his trade.

I seek a stall for my horse tied outside, hot food and a bed for the night for myself. I hope you can provide. But first, I offer a few silvers in exchange for the answers to some questions. Is that agreeable?

The man raised his eyebrows a little but nodded his acquiescence. No doubt every extra coin was important to him, judging by the near-deserted room. Tolvyn continued.

I'm looking for a man I knew some years ago. We were close friends back then but have lost touch over time. I had heard rumours that he now resided in these parts. His name was Durnik, he was a ranger. Do you know of this man?

The barkeep slowly shook his head.

I'm afraid that I don't...admittedly I don't know all of the people in the surrounding villages, just the ones that come here to drink. But even so I can't remember anyone mentioning that name.

Are you sure? It's very important to me...
Another thought came to him, something that could jog the man's memory.
He was sometimes called Halfhand because he had only two fingers on his left hand. Does that help?

The man again shook his head, then stopped suddenly with a thoughtful look.
Well, just wait a bit. Now that you mention it I do seem to recall talk a while back about a man with only two fingers on one hand, a man that spent a lot of time in the forest. He lives two villages over I think. Could this be who you're looking for?

Success! That sounded very much like Durnik. He laid some coin on the counter.
Thank you, good sir. Now, if I could trouble you for the stall for my horse and food and lodgings for myself?

He would eat and sleep well tonight and set out early in the morning for Durnik's village. Then he just had to convince him somehow to hide his secret and keep his mistress and child safe for perhaps the rest of his life.


*-*-*-*-*-*


The sun wasn't a quarter way up the sky when he rounded a bend and his destination came into view. He had left the inn at first light after a comfortable night's sleep, eager to reach the end of his journey as quickly as he could. Now that it was finally at hand he felt a slight trepidation; he was risking his life aswell as his child's and mistress' by telling anyone his secret. Although he was sure that the old Durnik wouldn't betray him even if he didn't agree to taking them in, he could have changed in the four years since they had last met.

Small houses lined the roadway, people could be seen moving about and getting the morning's work done. In the middle of the village was a well where a number of people were drawing water. He rode up to these and, dismounting, asked a woman as to the whereabouts of Durnik the Halfhand. He was pointed towards a wooden house in the shadow of the trees, but told that the man was likely in the forest and wouldn't return until near dark. He thanked the woman and moved on.

Getting closer to the house, it seemed that it was indeed deserted. Smoke rose slowly from the chimney but the door was closed and nothing could be seen through the windows. He had no choice but to wait; he would never find him by going into the forest, only risking getting lost himself. Trained well as he was by Durnik, it would be unfamiliar territory for him. The old ranger would be back by nightfall, then they could talk.

Letting his horse graze in nearby grasses, Tolvyn settled himself against the wall of the cottage and closed his eyes, wondering whether Durnik would be agreeable to what he proposed. If not, there were no other options he could think of.

The man crept slowly through the forest making hardly a sound. The birds sang in the trees overhead, seemingly undisturbed by his passing, their sweet music ringing in his ears. The wind rustled through the trees and against his face. It was a good day to be alive and he felt very much alive when surrounded by the forest and it's inhabitants, surrounded by nature. All his life he had been a ranger; it was for mornings like this he had lived for, being part of the peacefulness and serenity not found anywhere else.

The doe, his prey, could be seen up ahead; she had no inkling that she was being stalked. The wind was blowing in the wrong direction for his scent to carry and he was moving too silently for even her sensitive ears to hear. He took a step, then another, taking great care not to step on any twig or branch that would give him away. He was now within three or four steps of the deer and still she didn't move; it seemed that he hadn't lost his touch.

Suddenly the deer tensed; head up, ears perked, sniffing the air. Something had caught her attention. He froze in mid-step, not daring to move a muscle for fear she would sense him somehow and flee. Of course, the enjoyment was in the chase, but he would still very much like to finish it if only to prove to himself that he still could. He held his breath, hoping that she would relax once more rather than moving onwards. Minutes passed, Durnik drawing the occasional slow quiet breath, holding himself very still. His muscles began to ache, a sign that he was no longer as young or as spry as he once was.

Eventually, slowly, her head dropped again to the grass; she was apparently satisfied for the moment that things were safe. His heart slowed and he moved forward once more, softly, carefully; He was now almost within touching distance of her hindquarters but he resisted the urge to lunge; patience was the key, the long stalking deserved a good ending. One more step, now standing directly behind the deer. He reached out his left hand over her back, hovering just above it, not touching but close enough to feel the warmth rise from her body. Softly, slowly, he brought his two fingers down onto her spine, making very gentle contact. At the touch, the doe bucked in shock, head jerking upwards, her whole body leaping into action and away through the trees.

Durnik straightened up and laughed to himself. No indeed, he hadn't lost any of his skills even if he wasn't getting any younger. A satisfying thought to follow an even more satisfying morning's chase. There was nothing quite like a successful stalking of an animal as naturally skittish as the deer; any hint of danger and it would be off without a trace. Now it was time to head back to his cottage to cook one of the rabbits he had caught yesterday. His hunger was making itself felt.


*-*-*-*-*-*


He emerged from the dense trees at the edge of the forest, almost salivating at the prospect of the food to come, then stopped dead. There was a horse tied at the front of his cottage. Sitting down, leaning against the wall, a man was apparently sleeping. It couldn't be anyone from the village, they all knew he was in the forest in the morning. Who could it be?

He wasn't taking any chances. Even though he had now left that life, he had made some enemies during his time in the service of the king. Although it was unlikely that anyone meaning him harm would literally fall asleep on his doorstep, he couldn't afford to risk being seen before getting a closer look himself. He moved quickly towards the back of the house, coming around to his visitor from the other direction.

He stood at the corner for a moment, looking down at the sleeping figure. No weapons were visible, he wasn't an immediate threat at least. Something about him looked familiar but he couldn't quite place it. He knew him from before though, he was sure of it. Could it be...his old student? He shook his head. It had been a long time since he had last seen him; he could be mistaken. He'd know soon enough, when the man awoke.

He nudged him insistently with his foot, speaking down to him.

And who might you be, traveler, that you sleep in the shade of my house?

[OOC => Tolvyn: normal text for actions, red text for speech
Durnik: italic text for actions, green text for speech
/OOC]


He woke up groggily to a sharp pain in his side and the sound of a man’s voice. When the pain struck again he realised that he was being nudged by a boot of some kind, presumably one attached to the man whose voice he could hear. His eyes flew open, wondering who had come upon him. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, only to rest his eyes and think to himself while awaiting Durnik’s return. It was true that he had been tired though…he wasn’t accustomed to awaking at dawn in his normally leisurely life in the city.

The first thing he saw in front of him was his horse, still grazing on the nearby grasses. That was reassuring; it seemed that the man wasn’t a bandit at least, else he would have been long gone with the high-quality steed beneath him. But the question remained, who was the man now kicking him? He was the king’s sorcerer, he should be treated with respect! Still bleary-eyed and not fully awake from his sleep, he didn’t really hear what the man was saying nor did he remember that few if any would be able to recognise him for who he was here at the very edges of the realm.

He rose from the ground slowly, brushing dust from his cloak; he was deliberately facing to the front, not deigning to look at the man who had roused him until he was quite ready. It was a risk since the man might very well want to attack him, but a calculated one; he wanted to assert his authority right from the very beginning and gain the upper hand. Making some final adjustments to his clothing then turning slowly to face the man, he raised his chin slightly and looked him in the eyes.

Who are you to dare to touch the King’s Sorcerer?

Then he fell silent, mouth hanging just slightly open. The man looked familiar, very familiar in fact. A small hunch that wasn’t there before, diminishing slightly his once-great height; a little less hair on his head, now more grey than brown; more lines and wrinkles on the face but the eyes had the same twinkle, the mouth had the same slight uplift at the corners. As if he needed more proof he looked down and to his right, and yes, there was the hand with only two fingers. It was Durnik!


Durnik was surprised when the man seemed to ignore his question and replied with his own. “King’s Sorcerer”? That would have fit him well, serving his brother. But could it really be him? This man certainly seemed to have the same proud arrogance at the very least. The shoulders were a little wider, but that would have been natural as he grew older. The face was less weather-beaten, less tanned; apparently sorcerer to the king didn’t involve too much time outside. But apart from that, it could very well be his old student.
When he saw realization dawn on the man’s face and the glance down towards his left hand, he knew it to be true. He reached out to clasp his shoulder.
Tolvyn?


The look on the other man’s face confirmed what he already knew and that he had reached the same conclusion. He felt the big hand on his shoulder and reached out his own, holding Durnik’s upper arm. The difference in their reach hadn’t changed much at least!
Durnik, my old master; the signs of aging on you are few. I’m sure there is much for us to catch up on, much to discuss. It’s been too long; three days ride is too close to never visit.


His face broke into a broad smile.
You seem to have changed quite a bit yourself. I hardly recognise you, especially with you having lost that heavy tan you once had! He teased Tolvyn.
And much to talk about indeed, although I’m sure that there’s more news and gossip from your side than mine. Sorcerer to the king you say?
It’s a great pleasure to see him once more, but I doubt that this is purely a social call. It’s been four years since we last saw each other and I remember he never did anything without a good reason.
Durnik moved to the door and made to enter.
Come. We will eat first, then talk. I have a brace of rabbits that eagerly look forward to the boiling pot. Let’s not disappoint.


More news than Durnik could know or guess at, certainly. His stomach rumbled at the mention of food. He hadn’t waited to eat breakfast, in such a rush as he was to finally reach his destination.

I would be honoured, master. It felt natural to afford him his old title.
I must admit that I’m quite hungry and would be glad to eat with you.

He followed him through the door, filled with a mixture of eagerness and dread at the prospect of the conversation to come.

[OOC
Durnik in italics and green, Tolvyn in normal and red
/OOC]


The meal over, they were now sitting in front of the fire in a comfortable silence. The food had been good, large amounts of rabbit-meat now sitting in their bellies. While eating they had talked about much that had happened in the intervening years in the kingdom; which lords were in power, marriages in the court, new personalities in the city, all of the things that Durnik had been out of touch of for four years. He didn’t miss that former life of course, but all the same it was nice to hear how things were progressing.

He could tell that Tolvyn was holding something back though, had something on his mind. Perhaps it was the slight hesitancy when he came to speaking about himself in more recent times or his unwillingness to approach the subject of women in his life. Whatever it was, there was definitely something there under the surface; it only took a small leap of intuition to surmise that it was this that was the reason for the visit. He decided to take matters into his own hands rather than waiting.

Well, don’t just sit there brooding; let’s have out what’s bothering you.


Surprised, Tolvyn looked up for a moment and then looked back into the fire. He hadn’t thought he was so easily read, especially since he thought of himself as an adept hand in the ways of the court. Then again Durnik had always been perceptive, with people aswell as in nature. If anyone could have known that there was something wrong, it was he. And he was right; it was past time to come clean and tell him why he had come.
Gathering his thoughts, he made himself more comfortable on the chair and set about telling Durnik everything.


*-*-*-*-*-*


It seems you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a fix.

Durnik was still trying to digest all that he had heard. He knew what was being asked of him but didn’t feel ready to make any decision yet.

You realise I could go straight to one of your enemies with this and get something nice in return? Or even to your own brother, the king himself, and perhaps be granted a lordship?
There was a twinkle in his eye as he said this, and he moved on quickly.
No, I wouldn’t do that of course. But I’m not sure if I’ll be able to help you; it’s a lot you ask of me. I must have a serious think on it. Settle yourself in, make yourself at home. I’m going into the forest again, I’ll be back before sunset.


*-*-*-*-*-*


He leaned his back against a tree. He was in his favourite open glade within the forest; the ground was mossy and comfortable to rest on, and sunlight filtered down through the tops of the trees onto his face. He found it easy to think here, to concentrate all of his energies on whatever question bothered him at the time.

Giving aid to his former student would be a commitment that would fill up the rest of his life. He had given up his service to the king precisely because he felt he needed to get away from the intrigues, petty bickerings and plottings of the court. He wanted to live out the rest of his days in peace and serenity without any serious cares. He smiled softly. Peace was exactly what he had found. For the first few months of his new life he had savoured every minute of it but gradually it had gotten stale. He had begun to get bored of it all; there was no action, no thrill beyond the occasional deer-stalking like this morning. There was nothing for him to live for, no goals he could set for himself. In short, his life had become stagnant. And then of course there was the unborn child. Whatever about the foolishness of his father for getting into this situation, the child deserved a chance to live; a chance that he wouldn’t get without Durnik’s help.

When it came down to it, there wasn’t really any decision to be made; his course was clear. He rose and made his way back to the cottage.


*-*-*-*-*-*


I’ll do it. I’ll help you save your child and her mother.
They were both standing in the kitchen, Durnik having just returned from the forest.

He chuckled.

To think that I had written off all chances of marriage long ago, and now I’m to live in the pretence of such with someone I haven’t yet met? Life is full of surprises, even at my age.
She must be brought here as soon possible. I will begin laying the foundations for her arrival among the villagers so that their inevitable curiousity will be at a minimum.

She was saddlesore; every bone and muscle in her body was aching and cramping in agony. It was a long time since she had last ridden for any extended period and it wasn’t something that she enjoyed. They had been riding for three days now, herself and her guard. The man Tolvyn had sent with her was gruff and un-talkative but she was assured that their secret would be safe with him, which she was extremely thankful for. Apparently he owed a life-debt to Tolvyn for some long-ago happening and this act was part payment.

She had been shocked to hear of the law prohibiting the king’s sorcerer from having children. Of course, she had never known of any king’s sorcerer actually marrying, but she’d thought nothing of it. It was a time consuming occupation after all, marriage and family perhaps a luxury they couldn’t well afford. It sounded like a ridiculous law, one without any basis in common sense.

The truth was, she loved Tolvyn. Oh, she knew that any pronouncement to that effect would be treated with skepticism by most people, considering her former occupation. A concubine took so many men into her bed, how could she possibly know love? But to her thinking, those women educated in the ways of pleasuring men were more likely to recognize love when it came into their lives. Trained to treat men as objects – each one a goal to be achieved and then forgotten about until their next meeting – when a concubine began to feel something different for a man, she took it seriously.

Almost from the first time she set eyes on him, she knew he was different. He was the reason that she took no-one else to her bed, although he still didn’t realise what she felt. Oh, he was affectionate and caring, but nothing more. So she had one day stopped taking the medicine that all concubines take regularly, hoping a pregnancy would draw his notice.

And draw his notice it did; the night she had first told him, his initial reaction was muted although she had thought little of it at the time, especially when she saw the wonder in his eyes as he felt for the bulge in her belly later that day. She was going to have a son by the man she loved, his own feelings for her would grow as he spent more and more time with the mother of his child.

So she had hoped and even believed for the first few days after telling him, treating his hasty departure with only mild curiousity assuming that he was on the king’s business as oft-times happened. Things had unfortunately taken a bad turn for the worse when he had returned a week later though. She laughed softly, bitterly, to herself. Her plan had backfired because of simple ignorance of an obscure rule that made little sense, and now she was going to see him rarely instead of more often.

Her smile grew even more bitter as she looked around her and thought on her destination. She had lived in the city all her life, rarely leaving for any reason. She was used to her luxuries, the hustle and bustle of everyday life, and the constant gossip in the halls. Nature and wilderness weren’t for her. How could she be expected to live like this indefinitely? Surely the king, Tolvyn’s own brother, would set aside the stupid law for Tolvyn’s sake. But no, instead she would be forced to live with some old man as if in marriage.

She couldn’t bring herself to be thankful to him for the risk this unknown man was taking for her; she was too absorbed in her own self pity. Concubine she may have been but he would not share her bed. The entrance to his house would be the limit of the pretense, however much he was helping her.

They rounded a corner in the path and came into sight of a village in the shadows of the forest, the village where this man, Durnik, was supposed to meet her and bring her the rest of the way. The guard would leave and with him would go her last link to her former life.

Durnik stalked through the forest in disgust, taking little notice of the branches he snapped under his feet or the small animals that were sent scurrying before him. He usually prided himself on his skills at being truly a part of nature rather than an outsider, but he was too irked by her to care.

The cause? Another argument with Nasia of course. Truly a cosseted city-dweller, there was nothing practical she knew how to do nor did she wish to learn. In short, she had no desire to help him even in some small way. She didn’t even rouse herself from her self-pity at her plight to do such a simple thing as prepare a meal. Also, he knew that she had been haughty and caustic towards some of the villagers on the rare occasions she’d ventured out. She should be making more of an effort to stay hidden and unobserved, not drawing needless and very much unwanted attention on herself and the painfully obvious fact that she was out of place.

He had refrained from mentioning anything to Tolvyn on either of his visits since the woman had arrived almost two seasons ago. It was unlikely that Nasia had afforded him the same courtesy, she had accused him often enough of being unrefined, crude, not fit to share the same roof with her. It seemed to make little difference that she was staying with him as a guest, that she, in reality, was fleeing from the rule of the king. Presumably Tolvyn had more sense than to put too much faith into her likely exaggerated stories of life with him; at the very least he recognized that there was no other choice.

He wasn’t accustomed to living in close proximity to anyone else; even while in the service of the king he kept himself to himself while away from his actual duties. Some had seen him as standoffish, but in truth it was just that he was much more comfortable with nature and his place in it than with other men and women. The cottage was small, though, it couldn’t really be helped. When he did need some time alone he had taken to sleeping under the trees if the weather allowed, which suited both of them. It was a strain, and certainly not how he wanted to spend the rest of his life, but in the end it came down to the fact that Tolvyn deserved his help even if Nasia didn’t.

They would just have to learn how to get along, somehow. Whether things would get better or worse with the arrival of the baby in the next few weeks was unclear. It would be another mouth to feed, somebody else to care for. Perhaps she’d begin to make herself useful and start to take a more active role in their day-to-day lives and the care of her child. He couldn’t look after all three of them on his own.
He laughed bitterly to himself. Surely she wouldn’t let one so unrefined and crude, as he apparently was, to take a part in raising her child?

He began to make his way back to the cottage, some of his pent-up frustration and anger worked off. He would keep his patience for a while longer even against the best efforts of the woman. It was strange. He could wait in silence and stillness for days on end for the chance to kill a large wolf or boar, but she always seemed to manage to push him to the end of his tether in moments.

Foam and sweat flecked his horse’s neck as they stopped to rest by the road. He rubbed her long nose with one hand and fed her a treat, an apple, with the other; she was a good horse, a loyal horse, and she had served him well over the years. He didn’t like pushing her so hard but he had no choice. The ride that usually took three days at a reasonable pace needed to be made in just two; for the past two days they had ridden hard and long, from dawn until dusk and beyond. Now, at last, the city was almost in sight.

He had arrived in Durnik’s village in the hope of witnessing the birth of his child but had quickly discovered that it had already taken place, a few days earlier than expected. Although disappointed, his heart had soared when he first caught sight of his beautiful newborn son in the arms of Nasia in the cottage. He had been disguised by his magic for all of their protection; she had startled the first time she saw him but relaxed as soon as she heard his unchanged voice. She then gladly gave his son into his arms to cradle and look upon, making little crooning sounds; he had been in the presence of new parents in the past and had never understood their urge to make unintelligible noises but now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. From that moment on his heart was captured by the little bundle that was his son.

Now that he thought back on it, there seemed to have been a sort of stiffness between Nasia and Durnik; he had thought little of it at the time, he had been totally focused on his son. Definitely though, there had been something there. They spoke little to each other, the few words they did exchange were strangely formal. Durnik always seemed glad to get out of the house; even though he saw the forest as his natural home he was spending much more time in it than he had in the past, almost from dawn until dusk. His old friend seemed to be strained by something. But neither of them had said anything of it, perhaps he was seeing things that didn’t exist. He hoped so; Durnik and Nasia would likely be together for quite a while, it was better for both of them if they got along at least reasonably well.

How much he would like to be there for his son as he was growing up. He had chosen the name for him, as was his right as father; Corduin was a good name, a strong name, and one that would match the man that the baby would grow to be, or so he hoped. Would Corduin follow Tolvyn’s path into magic? Would he carve out his own? He was inexplicably proud to be a father, less so that he wouldn’t be the father figure he so wanted to be. Instead it would be Durnik that would play the role; undoubtedly he would set a good example but it just wasn’t the same. Unfortunately there seemed to be no other way. Getting away regularly from the city without drawing attention to himself or his destination would be almost impossible; every journey to the forest was taking a risk that one of his opponents in the court would have him trailed to find whatever secrets he was keeping there. Even in disguise, the King’s Sorcerer could not simply slip away for a week without giving notice. There were duties to attend to, the magical needs of a kingdom to take care of.

As if he somehow knew Tolvyn’s current situation and was trying to make it worse, his brother was becoming more demanding, and paranoid when no-one was there to take care of those demands. Getting away required an excuse of serving the kingdom in one of it’s many regions and it was on this pretext he had made his journey this time. It was also the reason he was now in such a rush to get back to the city. The place he had been meant to travel to was in the opposite direction to the forest; to make it worse he had stayed a day extra in the cottage without thinking of the consequences, wholly engrossed in the mystery that was his newborn child. Now he was paying the price, and unfortunately his horse was feeling it too. They still had to circle the city undetected and be back inside the walls before the swiftly encroaching darkness took hold.

He sighed and rubbed the flanks of his mare in apology. She deserved more treats than just a single apple for riding so hard and well without complaint once back inside the city, but first they had to get there in time. The king would not be pleased if his sorcerer was even a few hours later than promised, never mind a full day.

Dead leaves rustled on the ground as Durnik made his way purposefully through the forest. He was in a hurry; night was closing in and he needed to have the traps reset while he could still see. He didn’t want to risk setting a bad snare and having whatever animal unfortunate enough to step in it die a prolonged, painful, death. It was a cruel enough way to go without that.

Setting snares was something he hated to do, something that went very much against his nature. He preferred the more honourable way of the chase, the throw of a spear, the flash of the knife…but this was almost like death by assassin for the poor creatures. Never having a chance, never seeing the well-concealed metal trap, only feeling the agony as its jaws closed and snuffed out that life. His heart seemed to break every time he retrieved the dead rabbits come morning. But, unfortunately, it had to be done. They needed to be able to get themselves through the rest of the winter; it had been a soft season up until then but it was now beginning to take a sharper turn, to have a real bite. In past years Durnik had been able to get by on his own without resorting to the cowardly traps, but now there were three of them to look after. Not only did they have to feed themselves, they also had to acquire milk and other essentials from their neighbours and rabbits were useful as barter material.

Placing a trap carefully he continued along his rounds with only a few more to set. With a bit of luck he would be finished before full darkness. As he walked he took to thinking back on the happenings of the short months since the boy was born.

Things were thankfully a little better between himself and Nasia since the birth. Her son had a good effect on her, it seemed. At the very least she took good care of him, and sometimes even roused herself to help prepare food for their meals and do the necessary work inside the cottage. Also, he was more and more thankful for Tolvyn’s visits; during and around the three there had been so far, Nasia seemed to want to prove herself to him somehow, to draw Tolvyn’s notice and perhaps respect. Durnik wasn’t quite sure why, maybe the former concubine felt something for Tolvyn. Hard to believe perhaps, but he was glad of the extra help whatever the reason. Unfortunately for her though, she hadn’t made much of an impact on Tolvyn; he only had eyes for the child.

Spring wasn’t far away, even though the worst of the winter was between now and then. Thought would have to be given to the possibility of a garden of vegetables, perhaps even a goat of their own. Great ideas to be sure, and necessary if they wanted to be more comfortable for future winters. Nasia would have to look after that side of things though, and therein lay the problem. Somehow she would have to be convinced to make herself more useful. She would have to learn to tend and care for a garden. After all, it was for her child’s benefit as much as anyone’s. Hopefully she would see reason.

He was quite taken by the boy, Corduin, himself. He had never been in close contact with children before, nor did he have any desire to be. Now helping to care for Corduin though, it had opened his eyes to a whole new world of satisfaction. His heart lit up at every hint of a smile, it was almost as if he measured the success of his day by the number of times the baby had giggled and gurgled at him. He was grateful to Tolvyn for giving him this opportunity; what started out as him asking a favour had turned into a true gift to Durnik.

Setting the last trap just off the path, he turned and headed for home. The air was chilly and he was eager for the fire in the cottage to warm his old bones.

What a big boy he is, even though there has only been a couple of seasons since his birth. And beautiful, too. I’ve never seen such a beautiful baby, they’re usually hairless and shrivelled and so ugly. But not mine. Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised; his father is handsome, although no more so than I am pretty. Between us we were almost bound to have a remarkable child.

Nasia was standing over Corduin’s cradle, rocking softly, watching the boy as he slept. The cradle had been built by Durnik soon after the boy’s birth; a rickety affair for one so grand as her son, but it had been all his admittedly meager talents had been able to provide. It was better than nothing, if only barely. She loved to stand over it like this, gazing down at him. Corduin was the only good point in her life in the wilderness, the only small compensation for what she had to go through living with him.

She perked her hears at a noise outside in the darkness, then realised that it was only Durnik coming back from laying the night’s traps. He had been reluctant to start setting the snares, for reasons she just couldn’t understand. They were hungry, the forest was full of rabbits; it seemed like a simple enough solution. Animals didn’t matter, their only purpose was to feed people like them. Thankfully, he had finally seen reason, although he had recently insisted that she start tending a garden. A garden! The winter barely over and she was spending sizeable portions of her days toiling outside. She drew her once-beautiful hands up to her face; the fingernails caked with mud and dirt, the palms having a light but ever-present layer of grime…hours in the dirt was not a suitable occupation for one from an upbringing such as hers.

Durnik entered; she didn’t greet him.

The winter may be over but there’s still a strong chill outside. I’d like nothing better than to stretch out in front of the fire with some hot food in my belly. Have you cooked?

Cooked? The blundering oaf expected her to cook for him aswell as everything else. All he did was walk through the forest, talking to the trees for all she knew, laying the occasional snare. And then he comes home and expects her, who had never cooked before in her life, to have his food ready? Every night it was the same. Sometimes she cooked, other times she didn’t; she did need to eat herself, after all. It was becoming harder and harder to bite her tongue though, not to say anything. She knew he was an old friend of Tolvyn’s, and if only for his sake she would make the effort.

I ate earlier. There’s stew in the pot, probably cold. You know how to heat it yourself.

She hoped that it wouldn’t be long before Tolvyn saw the error in his judgement and brought them back to the city, away from this lummox of a ranger. If he didn’t decide so himself she would have to tell him how horrible life with Durnik really was. She would have no other choice.

He would have to thank Durnik later; what intricate and delicate work it must have been for him to create the cradle with only the simplest of tools! The perfect height for lifting Corduin out of it, and with holes in the sides for him to look out; the man was a genius! Tolvyn leaned down to gather his son into his arms. Corduin had just woken up and no doubt would be looking for food soon, so he carried him over to the table and set him on his knee. Nasia had prepared a gruel for him, and Tolvyn took great pleasure in spooning it slowly into the boy’s mouth.
Onk!, he cried happily.

This was only Tolvyn’s fourth visit since his son was born; he had been busy in his work for his brother and had little opportunity to get away. It was a week’s journey, after all, and difficult to find excuses for regular excursions. He relished the brief times with his son though, only wishing that there could be more of them and that his son would know him as his father. But it wasn’t to be; they had decided that it would be safer for the boy to grow up thinking of Durnik as his father and Tolvyn as a loving uncle. Or, “Onk”, as the boy’s unpracticed speech had reduced him to.

Corduin was having no more of the gruel, it seemed, so Tolvyn let him down to crawl on the floor. He hadn’t yet managed to walk but seemed to enjoy moving around the cottage on his hands and knees. As he watched, Nasia set a plate of rabbit stew in front of him.
He will be back sometime later. There’s no need to wait for him and go hungry ourselves.
Presumably she knew Durnik’s habits better than himself now; he tucked in greedily to his meal. Nasia sat opposite him with food in front of her but she wasn’t eating. She began to speak.
I’d like to talk to you about Durnik, Tolvyn. Things aren’t working out…
She trailed off; he wasn’t paying attention to her words, he was totally enthralled and distracted by Corduin making an effort to stand. She clicked her tongue in frustration, but Tolvyn wasn’t even aware of her anymore.

He rose from the chair quickly, kneeling in front of his son just as he finally managed to get to his feet. He stretched out his arms.
That's my boy! Now…come to Uncle. You can do it, come into my arms.
He had never taken a step before; could he do it now, while his father was here? It was almost too much to hope for, and seemed destined for failure when the boy lost his balance and sat back down on his rump. He wasn’t finished though…no sooner had he toppled than he rose shakily, slowly, to his feet once more. Tolvyn knelt there still, arms out, silently encouraging him to take that first step. Corduin swayed, arms in front of him moving up and down. Then…two quick steps, right into his father’s arms! Tolvyn was overjoyed, and with tears in his eyes he held his son tightly against him. He had witnessed a major point in his child’s life, against all expectation!

His joy had a touch of sadness in it though. Yes, he had witnessed his son’s first step, but how many of his “firsts” would he miss? And seconds? And all the thrills and spills of the young boy’s life? How much he would like to be there for him all the time, to see him grow up, to help in the raising of him. His all-to-rare visits brought great joy to his heart, and he thought of his son often when back in the city; even though it was a necessary thing they did, it was a heavy burden for him to bear. He knew Durnik would be a good father figure, but it just wasn’t the same as if he himself was there.

Blinking the tears from his eyes, he smiled softly down at his son then carried him to the cradle and set him in it. He would enjoy the brief times he was here and try not to think of the long absences. It was all he could do.

She heard the door close softly behind Durnik, then the sounds of Tolyn getting undressed in the dark. Earlier, she had put Corduin to sleep; not that either of the two men cared, of course. They had seemed quite content to sit by the fire and talk for the rest of the night, leaving her to take care of the cleaning up after the meal and then preparing the boy for bed. All while they relaxed and talked and watched her as she worked. Typical!

How engrossed they had been in Corduin’s first steps today. And second steps. And tenth. Naturally Tolvyn had been delighted to witness such a big occasion in his son’s life; it had been one of the high points in her day too, although admittedly that wasn’t too hard in the circumstances. But he had barely spoken a single word to her for the rest of the evening apart from his commentary on how great his son was. It wasn’t that big of a thing, especially since now it just meant that there was going to be even more work for her to do! A walking and active little boy was doubtless going to be much more for her to handle than a crawling one, as if she didn’t have enough to take care of with the cooking and cleaning and tending the garden. But no-one cared or even thought about all that extra effort for her!

Broaching the subject of Durnik had gotten little attention. It was unfortunate that she had begun to speak of it just before Corduin’s act, and after that it was hopeless. She really needed to talk about that with Tolvyn though…the situation between herself and Durnik was anything but good, with that brute forcing her to work so hard. And tending a garden, getting her hands unbearably dirty…that was no fitting occupation for a lady like her! Hopefully she would get a better opportunity later though.

She heard Tolvyn lie down in the bed. Durnik’s bed; he had left just a little earlier to sleep in the forest. He could stay there for all she cared. Let him have his precious nature and animals, he wasn’t able to deal with other humans properly! The only thing she liked about the forest was that it kept Durnik away through most days and some nights, apart from that it was just a place to catch food. She was especially glad that he was gone tonight…it would give her and Tolvyn privacy for what she had in mind.

Sliding softly from her bed, she padded over to where Tolvyn was lying down and then slid in beside him, facing his back. She gently kissed his ear and moved her hand from his shoulder all the way down his side; no reaction. He was asleep! She let out a gasp of disgust, then turned him towards her and shook him insistently; surely he wouldn’t want to continue to sleep when she was here beside him? His eyes flashed open, looking straight up at her, and she smiled back down at him in satisfaction.

Love…care to play?
As attractive as you look to my eyes, Nasia, not tonight, he muttered sleepily. Corduin’s asleep very close to us, there’s no telling when he’d wake up. I wouldn’t feel comfortable…doing anything…with him there. And besides, I have a long journey to start tomorrow morning, early. I need to get some sleep. I know you’ll understand, my dear.

With that, he rolled over and went back to sleep almost immediately, snoring softly. Fuming, she quickly made her way back to her bed and under the covers. Blast him! She had needs too, with no-one here to fill them. But no, all he was worried about were the sensibilities of a baby and his precious rest. He didn’t care about her feelings at all! All because of being out in the wilderness, all because of the child. She almost wished then that Corduin had never been born…and definitely wished that she had never set eyes on Durnik. She would do anything to get back to where she belonged, absolutely anything.

Durnik leaned against the wooden wall of his cottage, watching Tolvyn move off along the road against the background of the setting sun. Another all-too-short visit at an end. Durnik enjoyed talking to his old friend and student on these visits; there were few people in the area that he felt comfortable talking to, none who knew him so well as Tolvyn did.

Before taking his leave Tolvyn had drawn Durnik outside to talk, then to leave with him a gift for Corduin: a well-balanced wooden practice sword. He had asked him to begin teaching Corduin the basics of swordplay. Durnik was more than delighted at this; it was too long since he had a student of weaponry under him, it didn’t matter that Corduin was still young and the training would be very informal.

Corduin was still young, yes, but a fast developer. Only six summers old now, but quite big for his age. He would grow to become a solidly-built and strong man, that was sure. He loved to be out and about, exploring and developing his curiousity in everything that moved. Many afternoons were spent with Durnik in the forest, beginning to learn about plants and animals and how to survive on his own if needed. Nasia didn’t seem to be too impressed by it all though, but couldn’t restrain Corduin when he wanted to be out so often.

He shook his head. That woman…At least she did a little work about the cottage and garden, but it was always reluctantly and always the bare minimum. Most nights now he had to cook for himself, her just preparing enough to feed herself and her son. Another reason he looked forward to and enjoyed Tolvyn’s visits; then at least he didn’t have to do everything for himself. Ever since Tolvyn had told her she could never come back to the city, a few years ago now, she had been on her best behaviour during his visits, apparently trying to impress him. But even then…it was almost like she was jealous of all the attention that Tolvyn gave to Corduin and not her. Durnik shook his head again. He would never actually say it, but he was much more of a parent to Corduin that she would ever be.

Doubtless she wouldn’t like the sword-training and perhaps that was why Tolvyn hadn’t told her himself, not wanting an argument to spoil one of his rare visits. The boy wasn’t quite able for proper training yet even though he was big for his age, but he could certainly learn to swing it properly and become accustomed to it’s weight and balance. It would keep him occupied, hopefully she would see that and be satisfied that he was happy and interested in something.

He moved back towards the door of the cottage, pushing his way inside. Corduin was sitting at the table eating, Nasia standing behind him. Both looked up as he came in, and he presented the gift. The boy flashed a huge smile.

Uncle Tolvyn left this, father? When can I start?!

It lifted his heart every time Corduin referred to him as “father”. The boy would never know the truth of it, but that didn’t matter. He had never had children of his own, never had the time to settle down until his later years, but now Corduin was more than he could ever have wished for in one of his own and he was thankful every day for that.

Glancing up at Nasia, though, his happiness fell slightly; she gazed at him stony-faced, then turned her back and moved stiffly towards her bed. What was wrong with the woman, could she never be happy?

As if things hadn’t been bad enough before. Corduin had always been out and about during the day, but at least it was usually somewhere close to the house, somewhere close to me! And even when he had ventured into the forest with him, it was still only for relatively short periods. But now…bah! I barely see him from dawn to dusk, and then only when he wants food. It’s almost as if he’s turning into a smaller version of Durnik, although I wouldn’t mind if he stayed away from the house all of the time. But no, the two of them always off together playing “men’s” games in the forest. All because of that sword.

Nasia left the garden in disgust, glaring distastefully at the dirt that had somehow found itself under her nails.
The damned plants can look after themselves, she muttered under her breath, and stalked into the house to lie down.

It had been just over a moon ago that Tolvyn had left the practice sword to Corduin. A pathetic wooden thing it was, yet he seemed to have fallen in love with it from the first moment. Tolvyn, in his cowardice, hadn’t dared to produce it until he was leaving. He must have known she wouldn’t approve; maybe his supposed cowardice was instead prudence for that reason, but at the very least he could have told her himself.

She couldn’t help but be suspicious of his motives, though. Didn’t he return her love any more? But no; that couldn’t be it. How could he not? It had to be something else. Was he trying to separate her from her son somehow, in some way? And if so, why would he do such a thing?

I’m much the better parent, of that there is no doubt. Someone is needed to protect Corduin from the influence of that great oaf, Durnik, and Tolvyn is never here! So of course it’s all left up to me. Even if Corduin and I can’t return to the city, could Tolvyn not move from the city himself to be with us? His post isn’t that important, surely, that no-one else couldn’t do it. The kingdom isn’t short of sorcerors.

It was something she had thought many times over the last couple of years, and maybe the time was coming to speak it aloud to him. He should be happy about it, it would give him more time to spend with her! And Corduin too, of course.

And if not, couldn't he at least bring me gifts as would befit a woman of my beauty and breeding?

Tolvyn sat astride his horse, almost at the end of his journey. The day was coming to a close, the sun deep in the sky; he had been travelling since dawn, wanting to get to Durnik’s cottage before nightfall. He had made it, finally, although it had meant he hadn’t eaten since before first light. It couldn’t be helped, though. Things were busy in the kingdom, he didn’t have much time to spare for visits to his son. A sad fact, but he had no choice when the kingdom had need of him.

Now though he was watching his son at the edge of the forest, practicing his swordplay. He hadn’t noticed his “uncle” yet, and Tolvyn was happy to leave it that way. Observing the boy dance around the high thistles, slashing and diving and thrusting, brought a smile to his face. Corduin was shooting up quickly; it almost seemed that every time he came to see him he had grown another handspan or more. He was eight now, and looked at least a few summers older. Tolvyn’s face grew serious for a moment, then his smile returned; there was something he needed to discuss with Durnik about his son, but that was for later.

He turned back towards the cottage without interrupting Corduin. He was having his fun, he’d greet him soon enough. As for himself, he was more than eager to get something to eat; his stomach was making known exactly what it thought of going the full day without a single morsel to eat.

He was looking forward to talking into the night with Durnik once more, as they did on most of his visits. This time though he had to bring up a subject that mightn’t sit well with the man, but it couldn’t be helped and was better than not saying anything. And then there was Nasia…he admitted to himself that he didn’t really look forward to seeing her anymore. He was still fond of her, to be sure; she was mother to his son. But she had grown colder somehow - more distant - these past few visits. He knew not the cause, nor did it interest him overly much - he didn't have the luxury of time to dwell on things that didn't really concern him; he wasn’t her keeper, nor did he wish to be.

He tied his horse to a post, rubbing her neck and feeding her an apple from his pocket, thinking then on what he needed to talk to Durnik about. His own magic had begun to develop about the same age that Corduin was now. Even though, unlike his son, both of his parents had been trueborn mages, he couldn’t be sure that Corduin wouldn’t develop some form of magic himself. Durnik would need to keep a close watch on him for any manifestation of it; it could be very dangerous, both to the boy and for anyone else who came into contact with him. He had no idea how Durnik would react to this, but he deserved fair warning; at any rate he would be much better able to deal with it than Nasia, Corduin’s mother or not.

It hadn’t come as much of a shock to him; he supposed that he had always known, in the back of his mind, that it would eventually come to this. It didn’t really bother him, he realised. It could cause problems of course, but that was hardly anyone’s fault.

What disturbed him more was the feeling he had just experienced, that had just passed – that icy shiver down his spine. The feeling he had gotten only rarely throughout his life, at times when it seemed like Death walked close behind him. On the eve of battle, or at times of great danger for himself or another close to him. Even in the midst of battle he had sometimes felt it, and learned to react without thinking – ducking and rolling to one side, leaping from his horse – and countless times it had saved his life. But in his cottage, sitting in front of a warm fire? There was no danger here, only peace. And it was hardly the news of Corduin’s possible magic that was the cause of it; that could turn into an inconvenience, to be sure, but never a life-threatening danger. He shook his head; just an old man’s instincts getting worn.

Durnik put it out of his mind. He signed, looking across the fireplace at his old friend.

His secret will be safe with me, as all your others have been and will still be in the future. Even from Nasia. I agree, she doesn’t need to know, it will only bring her needless worry.

He thought he heard movement, a sound, from behind…but when he looked, all that was to be seen was the sleeping form of the woman in her bed. It seemed that it wasn’t only his instincts playing tricks on him tonight. Surely all of his senses weren’t going to give up on him, now, of all times? If Corduin was going to begin showing signs of magic, well…he was certainly going to need all of his senses very much at their best.

He turned back to Tolvyn.

I don’t see that it’s all that much of a problem, my friend. He has little contact with anyone other than us, and I doubt he could do or come to much harm in the woods. I dealt with you ably enough when you were under my guidance, a young and impetuous boy full of confidence with his newfound magicks!

Neither of them voiced what Durnik suspected both were thinking: Tolvyn had been in the tutelage of a master of sorcery from a young age, and Durnik hadn’t had to deal with him on his own.

Rest easy, my old student. After all, you’ll be visiting us still and will likely find any trace of magicks in the boy before they actually appear to the rest of us.

Well, no-one could say that life in his old age wasn’t eventful!

She lay sleepless in her bed, as she had done all evening. She hadn’t been able to fall asleep earlier and had contented herself with listening to the men talking by the fire; as it turned out, that was just her good fortune. The things one hears when it’s thought that no-one is listening! There was a moment when she had thought she was discovered with Durnik turning around, but she lay quite still and pretended to be asleep; the old man was easily fooled.

How dare they! The don’t even have the good grace to tell me when something so big could be happening in my son’s life!

She seethed. Magic…pah! she spat under her breath. The only thing it had ever brought her were problems and grief, and it was the reason she was living out in the wilderness. The last thing she wanted was for her son to develop and nurture that seed of magic that he had apparently inherited from his father. She knew what would happen if he did, she could just see it now…

It’s just one more thing that will draw Tolvyn’s attention even further from where it should be, on me, and more towards my son. He already has more interest in Corduin than in me, and this would only make things worse if it came to pass. Even when he was explaining how things were to Durnik, she could hear the pride in his voice when he thought of how his son could follow in his footsteps as a magic-user. He wouldn’t even have time to look at me then, I who have stayed honourable to him for all these years!

There was something else, too. If Corduin proved to have magic, Tolvyn would no doubt begin to train him. And then of course, between that and Durnik’s trips into the forest, they would have Corduin to themselves almost all of the time! She would be left to one side, cast away from both Tolvyn and Corduin. It was little wonder they didn’t want to tell her. Needless worry indeed, their concern for her was touching even when it was false.

Pah! How dare they!

For the moment, she would settle for hoping for the best, for a favourable outcome to this. But – she couldn’t let it happen. For once, should would have to put herself before everyone else.

Her mind made up, she closed her eyes and quickly entered an untroubled, peaceful sleep.

Corduin and Durnik were moving slowly through the forest, bathed in the green-ish glow of the mid-afternoon sunlight filtering down through the trees. They were hunting a boar-pig, and had been on its trail since early morning. It wasn’t the first day that they had been attempting to track this one down, but now it seemed that they were getting close to their prey; judging from recent spoors they had come on, it wasn’t too far ahead of them on the trail.

Durnik again motioned for Corduin to stay behind him, and to stay as silent as possible. He was nine now, and carrying the practice sword as if he meant to kill the boar without any help. Durnik couldn’t help being proud and amused, aswell as slightly exasperated. Didn’t the boy know how dangerous a boar could be? If anything happened to the boy when they were out hunting…what Tolvyn would say, and rightly so, just didn’t bear thinking about.

As they came around a slight bend in the path, Durnik quickly whispered to his ward to slip behind a tree - which he did, reluctantly. The old ranger didn’t take his eyes from their quarry, what they had been seeking this past number of days. The boar stood at the end of the straight stretch of track, turning now to face in the direction of the noises it had heard behind it. It was old, he could see that even from some distance away. Its hairless hide was thick, almost as good as any armour a blacksmith could create…but there was a weakness, and he intended to find it.

Durnik took a tight grasp of his spear, crouching down and leaning forward, holding his weapon beside him and parallel to the ground. He looked straight at the boar as it first pounded the ground with its hooves, and then began the charge.

He couldn’t help thinking, even as it came towards him, that it had been a long time since he had last needed to use his skills in this manner. Undoubtedly it would be good for him, but…would he remember how?

The thoughts were forced from his mind then, as he bent his concentration to the dangerous task at hand. On and on it came, time beginning, as it always did when he got into these combat situations, to slow down. For a moment he remembered that Corduin was watching, and hoped that he would learn something from this show; then it was time for action.

The boar was only a few paces away, tusks lowered; ready to gore him who would dare to stand in the way. Durnik moved quickly, lifting his spear from his side, setting its butt firmly on the ground and angled slightly upwards towards the more vulnerable part of its belly, bracing his whole body. Then it was on him! He felt a jarring shock through his arms as the spear took most of the impact, its momentum carrying it through and onto him so that he wondered whether he had found his mark…

And then it collapsed, dead, on top of him. Success! He couldn’t help but feel extremely pleased and satisfied that he hadn’t yet lost his touch.

Suddenly there came a shout from behind him: Father! Look out!

It was Corduin, warning him of something, but he couldn’t move. He heard the boy running up behind him as he struggled to get himself out from under the heavy weight of the dead animal. There came a strange, muted sound from behind him, and he turned at last just in time to see what looked like the limp form of a snake flying away from him through the air. Snakes were rare in these parts, although invariably poisonous. But, a flying snake??

Corduin was staring at his hands in wonder, then looked up.
It was going to bite you, father. I just touched it…
The boy fell over in a faint.

His magic had appeared at last.

Durnik held Corduin tenderly in his arms, then laid him out on his bed and pulled the covers over him. He had rushed back from the forest, almost running all the way. Hopefully the boy would recover; from previous experience he knew that a lad’s first experience of magic was usually like this, but he couldn’t think straight with worry when it was someone he cared for like a true son. The unmoving form of Corduin in the bed didn’t help matters.

He turned around quickly as he heard Nasia entering behind him. She had presumably been in the village when he returned, but now she was standing at the door staring in shock at the sight of Durnik bent over Corduin’s still form. Her mouth moved, speaking in scarcely louder than a whisper.

What have you done to him?

She ran to the bed, pushing Durnik away, hard, and cradling Corduin to her – but there was no movement, no real sign of life except for the barely noticeable rise and fall of his chest. She turned again to Durnik, clenching her fists at her side, facing the man who had brought her hale and hearty son out hunting and returned with him in this state.

What have you done to my son?!

Durnik realised that he had to tell her, whatever he had agreed with Tolvyn. She had a right to know, Corduin was her son as much as he was Tolvyn’s, after all, however bad she might have been as a mother. And she’d have to have some idea on how to care for him during the few days he would be gone.

It was his first magic; it has finally come on him. I must go to Tolvyn, I must tell him what has happened to his son. He will know what best to do for the future.

It was his first magic; it has finally come on him. I must go to Tolvyn, I must tell him what has happened to his son. He will know what best to do for the future.

No. No. I think not. Tolvyn must not know. Corduin will be ok with some care if it was his magic that caused this. So long as he isn’t subjected to places where he’d need his magic to protect him, that is. Damn the man! Hunting was no place for her son, she had always known that! Yet he persisted…and now was the cause of this tragedy. It seemed that it’s only myself who is able to look after Corduin properly. Typical.

Tolvyn doesn’t need to be told; surely he has enough troubles and worries himself without something else being laid on his shoulders. The boy will be ok with rest. When he wakes, we just need to ensure that he won’t ever be put into a position where he’d feel the need to use his magic again. As it should have been before.

No. Tolvyn asked to be told if anything happened. He warned me that it could happen. I must go to him; I must let him know what has come about. He needs to know, to be able to decide what’s best for his son. I leave at first light.

She turned away without another word.

He cannot be allowed to tell Tolvyn. And “his son” indeed, as if I don’t get any say in what would happen.
I can just see it now. Tolvyn will take Corduin back with him to the city to instruct him in magic. No one would take any notice of it or pass comment; it happens all the time that boys with magic are found and brought to the city to be trained and helped to realise their potential. But I would be left here, with this oaf. Tolvyn would separate me fully from my son, and at the same time from himself aswell.
I cannot let that happen. I will not be cast aside. Whatever it takes, Durnik will not be allowed to tell him.

It had been a long time since he had ventured so far from his present home. Many years in fact, years even before Corduin had come into his life. He was understandably experiencing mixed feelings about any return to the city...he had left it for the peace and quiet of the countryside, not particularly wanting to go back for any reason. But now, it was necessary. And at least he would only be there for a short time. Tolvyn would surely see the need for haste, and would leave as soon as he was able.

He was having mixed feelings, too, about what this would mean for him in the future. Corduin had been with him for 9 summers now, much of that time spent with Durnik himself. In the beginning he had some private reservations, of course – although at the same time he had been happy to help Tolvyn when he was in need – but now he just didn’t want to lose the boy at all. Corduin looked up to him, and called him “Father”…and he was like the son Durnik never had. He took pleasure in watching him swing a sword, teaching him the way of the woods, or even telling him when he had done something wrong – all the aspects of watching a boy grow up – and he was about to lose it to the city.

He knew it would hurt, no doubt about that. The sense of loss was already beginning to hit, even though he knew that it was necessary. He couldn’t train Corduin in the arts of magic, and the rare visits from Tolvyn would never be enough. The only answer was that the boy came back to live in the city…and there was no place for an old ranger there.

The only slight upside to the change would be that he would be rid of Nasia. Tolvyn wasn’t likely to leave her in the wilderness and separate her from her child, whatever she might have believed. But even that paled beside what he would be losing, especially since Nasia herself might finally have been changing for the better. Even after their argument of few words the previous night, she had been up early this morning to prepare his breakfast and supplies to bring with him on the journey. All seemingly in apology for the way she had behaved, which he was delighted about aswell as being more than a little surprised. It was a nice change, but even that now came to late for it to make any difference to him. She would soon be gone too.

As the sun reached its peak overhead, Durnik finally dismounted his horse to relieve himself and to walk some feeling back into his numb rear end. It had been a long time since he had ridden so hard, many years, and his body just wasn’t prepared for it. He was getting old. But, regardless, he had to move on. He wanted to be within a short day’s riding distance of the city by nightfall, so as to reach the city and make contact with Tolvyn early on the morrow.

Remounting, he unstoppered his flask and took a well-needed sip of the cool water held within. He spurred his horse onwards once more, wondering at the strange metallic taste that now assaulted his tongue, but thinking nothing of it…at least, not until he was forced to roll from his mount and collapse, curled up on the ground, his stomach racking in agony.

His breathing grew fast in his throat, and strange shapes and colours were painted behind the lids of his tightly-closed eyes. The agony in his belly seemed to rise to new heights, until soon he thought that someone had surely skewered him on a sword while he was defenceless. He could feel his bowels release, but was at this point beyond caring. He knew that this was the end, that he couldn’t survive such pain. It hurt all the more because he realised who was behind it. It wasn’t quite the end he would have imagined for himself, incapacitated by a poison. But death chose it’s own time and method, and waited on no man.

That…woman…, he whispered, then breathed his last.