Emmel's Quest, Chapt 1 - Into the Forest

In the dim light before dawn, a slight mist wafted through the small village. Moisture from the not so distant ocean mixed with the smoke of dying fires that seeped out of stone chimneys. The mist thickened in low spots, blurring the dark shapes that were huts and cabins. Most of the movement came from night scavengers, rodents and other small mammals, who were making their way out of the collection of primitive buildings before the villagers began to wake. An occasional sleepy woof of a dog could be heard amongst the early chirps and calls of birds reacting to the first hint of light.1

Beyond the edge of town, a solitary figure approached through the mist. He came from the forest cautiously, but not fearfully. A young man, with dark hair falling to his shoulders, he was lean, but carried a large pack with an ease that suggested hidden strength. Leather breeches and a dark, woven shirt, he blended into the dark of the forest from which he had emerged. His beardless face and smooth complexion suggested youth. 2

Walking purposefully across the narrow farmland between the village and forest, he moved to a burned out shell of what had been a small wooden cabin. There, he paused to let his pack slide to the ground. He stared down at the burned ruin for some time, breathing in a measured rhythm. Then he turned to the pair of freshly covered graves. In silence, the youth knelt and dug a small hole in the loose dirt of one grave. He unwrapped a small bundle, pulled out a flower and planted it in the hole. As he whispered “good-bye mother,” his voice broke. Twice, his body convulsed with repressed sobs, but no other sound escaped his lips. At the other grave, he dug a trench, a hand’s depth and breath and as long as his forearm. In this, he placed a large hunting knife, then filled in the trench. 3

“Good-bye father,” he whispered. Then he took one more deep breath and rose. Cautiously he scanned the village, looking to see if any else was about. Seeing no one, he strode through the village. Near the center was the cabin of the village’s priest. The youth quietly took a large peace of wood and placed it against the door, to prevent the inhabitants from exiting quickly. Then he turned and hurried toward the village altar. He gathered up the four small statues and hurried away. 4

The youth stopped outside the village at the pond where the villagers dumped their refuse. There he set the statues on a table and knelt before them.5

“You are the gods of my people,” he half whispered. “All my life my parents have taught me not to believe in you. Yet now with my parents dead, I would know if I have been taught wrongly. Are you real?” He paused al looked around once more, making sure he was alone.6

“I do not,” he continued, “mean any disrespect, but the time to make yourself known to me is now. If I do not receive some hint that you are real, then I will accept that what I was taught was right and your idols will be cast into the mire.”7

He picked up the golden figure of a flame-like person. “Kerst, God of the Sun, if you have power, then make a ray of light cross the sky.” Emmel stepped back and looked toward the east, where the first light was beginning to show across the distant ocean. After several breaths, the youth shook the idol. “The time is now. I give you until I speak to the others.” He set the idol back on the table. 8

Serieth was a silver coated image of a woman with wings instead of arms and a bird-like tail. “Goddess of the wind, I implore you to send a breeze across the ocean to prove that you and these others are real.” Again he stepped back and looked out to the horizon. Again he waited in vain and placed the idol back with the same warning. 9

Next was a rock carved mass with two legs, four arms and no head. “Poeth, god of the soil, I know not what to ask of you. The only thing I can think of is to shake the ground as you supposedly did three summers ago. If you are real and hear me, then respond soon, for my patience wears thin.”10

Last was the goddess of rain, a crude female figure carved from some milky stone. She had large breasts and thick arms. From her mouth flowed what Emmel had been told represented water for the rain. As with the others, his request seemed simple. He asked to see a cloud appear on the horizon. After a short wait, he looked to the east and saw that his request was not answered. The lad waited until the horizon began to lighten and he knew that the villagers would soon be waking. 11

He stepped back to the table and spoke once more to the idols. “You have failed my request. I do not accept you as gods.” With that, he tipped the table so that the idols slid off and plopped into the mucky water. Then he turned his back and started for his pack. He made it halfway through the village.12

“Somehow, I didn’t think you’d have the nerve to do that,” came a voice from the darkness of the village blacksmith’s shop as he passed. The youth spun, his hunter’s knife appearing in his hand. He stared into the darkness, holding the knife warily to the side, ready if attacked. The youngest of the blacksmith’s sons stepped slowly from the shadows. “You don’t need that knife, Emmel. I’m not your enemy.”13

Emmel relaxed with a sigh. “I know, Brynan.” He slid the knife back into its sheath. “Of the whole village, you are the only one I would believe that from right now.” He looked around, then stared at his pack on the edge of the village, near his parents’ graves. “Why are you up at this time of the morning?” Emmel tried to sound casual. Brynan looked in the same direction.14

“Waiting for you.”15

“Why?” Emmel’s attention was focused back on the muscular lad. 16

“To see if you’re planning what I think you are.”17

“I’m not planning anything. I’m leaving.” 18

“So, dumping Lorimer’s idols in the stinkpond wasn’t planned?”19

“I gave his so-called gods the opportunity to prove themselves. He’s always taking about how mighty they are. Well, I guess now they can prove themselves and retrieve their stupid idols.”20

“Lorimer will be furious. Sakes, Emmel, your father never did anything like this, and look what happened to your parents.”21

“You don’t believe those lies about Lorimer’s gods sending down the fire, do you?”22

Brynan looked away for a moment, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “I don’t know what to think about that. I just think that you should not be here when he finds the idols are gone. I mean, I don’t expect him to be able to call down fire from the sky, but you never know. And, there’s no telling what our neighbors will believe. Besides, even if you claim it was the ghost of your father seeking revenge, I don’t think Lorimer will believe you.”23

“And that’s why I’m leaving. It’s better for me to just be gone. You won’t tell anyone, will you?” 24

“How can I tell anyone, if I’m gone with you?” Emmel thought to argue, but Brynan turned and lifted a pack from the darkness. “I’m ready to go any time you are.”25

“What do you mean,” Emmel said in surprise. “‘gone with’ me? Do you have any idea where I’m headed?’ 26

“Does it matter?” Brynan shouldered the pack and began walking. “As long as it’s away from here, that’s fine with me.” 27

Emmel thought furiously as he hurried to keep up with the blacksmith’s son. He hadn’t planned on anyone going with him. Did he have enough supplies for two? What did Brynan have in his pack? Could he keep up? “Look, Brynan,” he finally said, “I’m touched, but I only packed food for me.”28

“I’ve got some food in here.” Brynan replied. “Besides, you’re a hunter. I figure we’ll gather food along the way.”29

“Besides,” Brynan added. “Suppose the next village you come to isn’t as friendly as the people here in Dun. You’ll want someone to watch your back.”30

It surprised Emmel that Brynan was echoing some of his concerns. He didn’t know how far he would have to travel and knew that he’d have to hunt for game along the trail. He also worried that other villages would be as hostile to other beliefs and Dun was. Emmel didn’t want to be responsible for another person. Yet, the thought of having Brynan’s company made the trip seem less foreboding. The blacksmith’s son was two months younger than Emmel, but stood nearly a head taller and was at least half again Emmel’s body mass. Large and muscular, Brynan was one of a destructive quartet that were the Blacksmith’s sons. Of the four, Brynan was the most intelligent and the one Emmel knew best. He was also one of the few in the Village who would talk to Emmel on a regular basis. Though Brynan’s father mistrusted Emmel’s with a religious fanaticism, the two boys had formed a quiet friendship. For Brynan to want to leave his home and travel with him, made Emmel think that maybe Brynan cherished that friendship as much as he did. 31

They stopped next to the graves and Brynan waited silently for Emmel to take up his pack. When he turned to Brynan, thinking he owed the big lad one last chance to back out, Brynan cut him off by saying, “We’d best be on our way. Sun’s coming up and others will be up and about soon. Which way are we going?”32

Emmel sighed in mock resignation, and adjusted his pack. “All right. I’ll take you with me, but you gotta keep up.” Brynan nodded. “We’re headed west, straight into the forests.” 33

Brynan looked into the dark woods, swallowed, then set his jaw and nodded. “You lead the way. I’ll keep your back.”34

The young hunter grinned and started forward. Emmel knew that although he would never admit it, Brynan had the same fears of the forest that most of the villagers had. The people of Dun were sheep herders. Even now, the shepherds had their flocks on the grassy meadows to the north and south of the village. To them, the forest was a place of wolves and bears and other things that haunted men’s dreams. Few from the Village of Dun would wander far beneath the dense spruce canopy. Emmel and his father had been two that would. Being the village’s hunter, Emmel’s father had often gone deep into the forest. It was in the depths of these trees that he had taught Emmel to hunt and track. 35

Having grown up in the village as son of the blacksmith, there had been few opportunities for Brynan to penetrate the thick wall of brush that bordered the edge of the village’s farmlands. This would be the first test of Brynan’s resolve. But Emmel knew it was best to determine the strength of his desire to leave Dun right at the start. 36

As the first rays of sunlight lit the top of the trees, the young hunter entered the forest. Brynan paused only for a heartbeat, then swallowed hard as if to choke down his fears, and followed. A narrow trail cut through the wall of berries and vines that the villagers burned back to the tree line. The vines caught at their shirts and packs, but did not hold. For a dozen paces, the trail wove through the thick greenery that marked the edge of the forest. Abruptly, the vines and brush ended and the youths could look ahead where the narrow track continued through the trees without widening. The trees were denser here and the giant stems rose up to ten times the height of the two young men before any live branches were seen. In this open space, between ground and tree tops, a thin mist swirled lazily as if moved by an unfelt breeze. It was darker near the ground where the sun’s diffused light had not reached, and Emmel stopped to let his eyes adjust. Brynan moved close to him, squinting to see what might be in the dark. A hundred paces in, they passed his father’s secret place. The shed built into the hollow left by a fallen tree was well concealed. Emmel thought briefly of showing the place to Brynan, but since he’d already taken everything valuable from the shed, he saw no reason to stop. Brynan seemed unaware of the concealed structure. He seemed more interested in the shafts of light that shot through the forest mist, proclaiming the rising of the sun. 37

The trail they followed was one that Emmel and his father had walked many times. Wide enough for them to walk single file, it wove through the dense stand of ancient spruces and hemlocks in a generally westward direction. Since the dense trees shaded out most ground vegetation, the trail was plainly visible and the forest floor open for many paces in either direction. That did not mean it was easy to walk. Branches lay across the trail and tree roots poked from the ground, making footing treacherous. Emmel, with his hunter’s training, had less difficulty than Brynan. As the trail led them upwards along the side of a hill, occasional rays of sunlight penetrated the dense canopy. These beamed through the open space, forming gray shafts in the swirling mist, but failing to light the darkness where the two youths trudged. 38

As the trail climbed, the trees began to change. Firs and cedars began to mix with and then replace the spruces and hemlocks. With this change, the canopy thinned slightly and the increased light allowed more brush to grow. Patches of ferns, sometimes exceeding the height of the two youths, were skirted by the trail. The trail reached the top of a trending ridge and turned upward. Breathing hard from the climb, Emmel stopped for a break, knowing that they were far beyond pursuit. He leaned against a tree, but remained on his feet as he waited for Brynan to catch up to him. The large muscles on the Blacksmith’s son were developed for strength, not endurance. And yet, he had kept pace, with Emmel who had slowed only slightly to remain in calling distance. Brynan was breathing heavily as he joined Emmel at the turn, and bent over to catch his breath. Emmel had expected him to collapse and was pleased.39

“Where to from here?” Brynan gasped, the first words he’d spoken since they’d entered to forest.40

“Up,” was all Emmel replied.41

“Thought so,” Brynan took several more breaths. “Can we rest a bit here, first?”42

In response, Emmel shouldered off his pack and let it slide to the ground. He slid to a seated position against the tree, while Brynan unceremoniously dumped his pack on the trail, then dropped next to it.43

“How far do you plan on going today? And do you know where we’ll spend the night?”44

“This trail ends at a large meadow,” Emmel replied. “That’s the farthest I’ve been. We hunt it all the time, my Pa and I. But we’ll be there by midday. I’m thinking to drop down the other side of the hill. There’s a river that can be seen from the meadow. If we make that before nightfall, we’ll be doing good.”45

Brynan nodded. “So uphill in the morning, downhill in the afternoon. Sounds fair to me.”46

Emmel chuckled. 47

“Just to warn you, downhill can be as much work as uphill sometimes. We’ll see what the ground is like.”48

“All right. Just give me a little more time to catch my breath.”49

“Here,” Emmel said, holding out a small water skin. “Do you have one of these?”50

Brynan shook his head and accepted the offered refreshment. When both had caught their breaths, they shouldered their packs.51

The trail up the ridge was not as steep as what they had just climbed. However, it was constant and by midday began to sap their strength. The area they were in was changing from the lower portions of the hillside. The trees seemed to be getting younger and denser, so that it once more shaded out the brush. Abruptly, they found themselves in a thick wall of young trees, mixed with brush. The trail had recently been cut through this tangle, allowing them to exit the forest. 52

Emmel stopped at the edge of the ridge top meadow, and scanned the grasslands. Among the many trees that were popping up along the edges of the grass, he could detect no movement. There were some deer higher up that stopped grazing to watch the new arrivals. As Emmel started forward, they bounded away. The two youths trudged through the knee-high grass until they came under a large, wide oak tree. Under the tree, only patches of grass penetrated the thick matt of oak leaves. Here Emmel dropped his pack, and turned to dig through it. 53

He shared his dried meat with Brynan and the larger youth shared his somewhat smashed bread. They drank from water-skins and rested for much longer. When Emmel arose, he moved downhill, relieved himself, then started across the meadow, calling for Brynan to join him. The western side of the meadow dropped away rather abruptly and a large rock jut upward at the edge. Emmel climbed onto the rock and pointed. Brynan joined him and looked downward. Far below, a small river was coming from the west and sweeping to the south, where it was lost in the trees. 54

“I’m fairly sure that river is the Winding River that spills into the ocean south of Dun. Do you see that opening along the bank?” Emmel asked. “That’s where I want to spend the night.”55

“That’s a long ways down,” Brynan said, shaking his head.56

“Then we’d best get started.”57

After shouldering their packs, Emmel lead up the meadow to where the western edge was not so steep. There, he started across the hillside, contouring down from the ridge. The grass on the steep hillside proved slippery and the two carefully made their way to the trees. There they began a decent going from tree to tree. The thick layer of fir needles and leaves was no less slippery and several times that afternoon, one or the other lost his footing and slipped several paces down the hill before coming to rest against a tree. By the time they could see the river through the trees, both were sore, bruised, and tired. There was brush closer to the river and although they thought this would give them better footing, it also made travel harder. They pushed through the brush, still contouring downward toward the river. The tall vegetation was flexible and difficult to break. It tended to spring back when they pushed against it. It was denser closer to the river. Finally, Emmel saw an opening and turned directly down the hill dropping straight toward the river. He came out on top of a nearly vertical drop on a wide sweep of the river that was three times his height. There was a wide gravel bank between the water’s edge and the bluff. After looking upriver and down, Emmel surveyed the brush covering the steep bank. He looked to Brynan who merely shrugged.58

“Wait until I’m at the bottom,” he told his companion. Reaching out with both hands to grab bushes, he stepped over the edge of the drop. The flexible brush bent but held and he began to lower himself through the wall of brush on the steep bank. Turning to face the bank, he began to lower himself down through the tangle. Halfway down, Emmel’s foot got stuck inside a tangle of branches, but he climbed back up a step and moved over. Making his way down, he pulled actually two bushes from the bank and had several branches break. However, he managed to get to the rocky river bar without falling. 59

Emmel called for Brynan to do come down and stepped back to watch. With his larger frame and added weight, Brynan had a harder time weaving through the brush and tended to break his way through. Yet he too managed to get to the bottom without falling and soon both were standing on the gravel bar.60

“Now all we have to do,” Emmel said, “is find someplace to make a camp. He looked at Brynan with his scratched arms and face, and leaves in his hair and wondered if he looked the same. Running a hand through his hair confirmed that he did. 61

They trudged up the rocky bar to a bend in the river with a wide strip of sand. Patches of alders grew in the sand providing some shade and potential shelter. Emmel and Brynan looked first at the trees, then at the River and finally at each other. Without a word, they dropped their packs under the trees and began to strip. It was a warm day and the river looked invitingly cool. Brynan was a step ahead of him as they hit the water and found it to be shockingly cold. However, after the initial shock, the water was tolerable, and both splashed around, washing themselves and then just relaxing. 62

Much later, they dried out beside a small fire and chewed on more of Emmel’s dried meat and Brynan’s smashed bread. The sun had dropped below the mountains to the west and a cool breeze was pushing up the river. Emmel had checked the area for food. There were tracks of small mammals and birds, but no evidence that the sand bar was frequented by anything worth setting traps for. There were some berries growing along the bank, but nothing was ripe. So he figured they would at least get a peaceful night’s sleep.63

“So,” Emmel suddenly asked. “What was it that made you want to come with me?”64

Brynan scowled for a second as if facing painful memories. Then he said. “You must not have heard the fight I had with my Da last night.”65

“No I didn’t. I was,” he paused, since he hadn’t shown Brynan the hut. “I was in the forest.”66

“You’re probably the only one in the village then. I think even some of the herders up in the hills heard my father screaming at me.” He shook his head. “I swore last night that I was through. Da’s got my brothers to help him around the shop. He don’t need me, and shouted that in my face several times.”67

“What was he so mad at you for?”68

“We’ve been at each other for the past several days. I can’t take his nitpicking no more. Like last night, he was growling at me about overfilling the wood bin. So I said I was going to move out and stay with you, just to get him. He flew into a rage and told me to go ahead, that he didn’t need me no more. I don’t know what he was so upset about, but I didn’t care. So I waited for you to return. When you didn’t, I sat up most of the night, sleeping in the shop. I only just woke up, when I heard you moving that wood in front of Lorimer’s door.”69

“Wait,” Emmel said. “You told your father you were going to stay with me last night? Why?”70

“I don’t know. I just knew it would get him upset. He believes that junk Lorimer was preaching.”71

“About my father?”72

“Well, your father believed in strange gods; the Wolf-Lord, the Owl-Mistress, and whatnot. My Da, like the rest of those farmers just didn’t take kindly to that. The sun and earth are his gods. I mean they half figured your father would bring curses down on the village with his beliefs. Most were just happy that the fire only struck your parents’ house.”73

“What about you?”74

“Well, I didn’t see no fire come out of the sky, like Lorimer claims. I woke up like everyone else to see their place on fire. And Lorimer shouting about fire from the sky.” 75

“And you believed him?”76

“Not entirely, most of the younger folk didn’t, but we didn’t have no way of saying he was wrong.” 77

“Then you don’t believe in the gods of Dun? 78

“Heck, I don’t know. Never really thought much about gods. They don’t bother me, I don’t bother them.”79

“That’s just it. Those farmers, they craft some fancy idol and said it’s a god. But I never saw those gods they’d made doing anything for them.”80

“They say the gods made the sun come up and the rain to fall.”81

“Oh come on!” Emmel snorted. “The sun came up and went down long before the farmers of Dun were carving gods. And if those gods did control the rain, why the dry winter last year? And the late rains three years back?”82

“Maybe they were upset? Like Lorimer said.”83

“A god? Upset at people and punishing them for it? What, because they didn’t bow low enough before their stupid idols? Why don’t those so-called gods just tell the people what they’re doing wrong? Can’t a god speak to a man?”84

“Maybe your father’s gods-“ Brynan started angrily.85

”My father’s gods,” Emmel interrupted, “were just as made up as the village gods. I even watched him make up a god, a grass god I think, to get the shepherds all riled up.” He looked down into the fire and sighed. “No, my father didn’t worship any real gods.”86

“Then,” Brynan said thoughtfully, “Maybe there are no gods. Maybe it’s all just something someone made up.” Emmel looked up startled.87

“Oh no,” he said slowly, shaking his head. “There has to be a god out there somewhere. A real one. We just have to find Him.”88

“Yeah, well happy hunting. I mean, if you don’t accept Lorimer’s gods, or you father’s, how will you know a real god, if there is one. I mean, how will you know a real god from something someone made up?”89

“That,” Emmel said slowly, “is the question I have been asking myself for months now. How do I know what is real. That’s why I spoke to Lorimer’s gods, to see if there was anything real to them.”90

Brynan’s face widened in a grin. “Maybe they just didn’t want to talk to you. I mean, you are the son of a heretic. Maybe they thought you were a lost cause.”91

Emmel saw the mocking in Brynan’s face and grinned. “Well, that was their mistake. I wonder if Lorimer’s found his idols yet.”92

Brynan chuckled in response. “I’m sure that even if he has, they still stink.”93

Their laughter was lost in the soothing hush of the gently flowing river. The sun had long before dropped behind the mountains, but now the sky overhead began to darken. And stars appeared. 94

They sat silent for a while before Brynan spoke. “It’s getting dark. I’m tired and sore. I’m going to sleep.” He rose, stretched, and started for the beds they’d made from leaves piled on the sand. 95

Emmel stared into the coals, thinking he should get to sleep to. His muscles, though used to long treks, were not accustomed to bearing large packs. It worried him that maybe Brynan was right. Maybe he had been too hasty on turning his back on the gods of Dun. Yet, how could he accept those gods after what their priest had done to his family. No, he told himself, those idols were nothing but stone wood and metal. There was nothing real about them. 96

Yet Brynan’s question burned inside. How would he know a real god when he found one. And what if no god would speak to him? There was no way he could return to Dun. Besides, with his only family gone, the sleepy little shepherds’ town was not a home for him. No, he was alone now, with no one but Brynan at his side. And unless they found someplace with a god that he could accept, maybe he would never find a home. That thought worried him. 97

Unable to find any answers to his questions, kicked sand onto the fire and followed Brynan. 98