Foxed Eric

Eric Daniels fingered the newly made longbows around the shop. The shop owner noticed Eric and came over, waddling his way among the shop contents of endless numbers of cross and longbows, quivers, bridles, spears, axes, long swords, regular swords, daggers, and other combat training tools.1

"May I help you, sire?" the shop keeper reminded Eric of a very large penguin yet more colorful. The man seemed to be in his late forties and about half the height of Eric's six feet, three inches. His appearance consisted of a white cotton shirt hidden behind a brown jacket with several buttons missing. His pants were a dusty brown which looked too small for the man’s short, stubby legs. The man’s pants rode up a little bit and Eric could see that the man wore one rainbow sock on one foot and a lime green sock on the other one.2

Eric cocked his head at the mismatched socks then looked away. "I was looking at his bow," he pointed at the bow he was originally looking at. He pulled the bow off the shelf and tested the string. Eric hesitated.3

The shopkeeper noticed, “Something wrong sire?”4

“The weight is off,” Eric replied, “Or I don’t know my own strength.”5

“What are you used to?” asked the man.6

“Something a bit sturdier,” Eric answered.7

“I think I might have something more that you are use to.”
The man took the bow from Eric, thinking. He drew back the string judging its strength and hold. The little man shook his head then led Eric down the long row of long bows.8

"Let's see," the man mumbled to himself pulling a longbow from its place on the shelf. He pulled the string back. "Nope not this one," he said and moved on to another one. He checked about three or four bows before he seemed to have found the right one.9

"Here, try this one," he handed Eric the beautifully carved bow. He ran his hand on the wooden frame before fitting his hand and pulling the string judging his strength and the strength of the bow. It felt...10

"Wonderful," he breathed out to himself, not realizing that he had held his breath for a long period of time. To the man he said, "Perfect! I'll take it."11

ﻬﻬﻬﻬ12

Rain and thunder pounded in the darkness of the thick evergreen forest as the wind screeched among the thick canopies of trees, blowing huge amounts of rain in random directions. Lightning lit the sky in brief flashes of white light.13

It was rare to have a night this bad, but on such a night in late April, not yet dark with fear, a red vixen lay asleep in her den nursing her five beautiful newborn pups. One, the last in the row, in particular was special. They all were so gorgeous, but this one was different. He was a rarity the streaks of reddish orange in his fur gleamed in the frightful night.14

It wasn’t the perfect weather for the young foxes to be born on such a restless night, but no one could choose what day to give birth. The Young vixen yawned then licked each individual pup, cleaning each one more than twice. She was worried about how she was to care for her young when here mate, who had gone hunting, never came back.15

Weeks had gone by as the young pups grew rapidly, taking their first steps out of the den and following their mother where ever she went. One day the young vixen took her pups hunting with her. She left them tumbling and wrestling with each other in the grass only to return to find them gone.16

She searched until she heard a dangerous snap then a loud howl and ran to where the sound was only to find one pup caught in a trap whining to be free as the other four looked on answering the wounded cries with cried of their own.17

The vixen licked her trapped youngling’s ear and everywhere else he was bleeding then tried to force the trap’s teeth apart with her own set of jaws and claws to free her son, but to no avail. She couldn’t leave him there still only a few weeks old, but she had to. Every day she and the rest of the pups made frequent trips to the trap until one day she was greeted with the trap teeth open and the pup gone.18

ﻬﻬﻬﻬ19

The hooded man set the last of the traps smiling to him self. It was the middle of a calm and peaceful night yet the hunters seemed restless. All were asleep in their beds dreaming of the new day to come, all but one. Dargo Vonte Ogo, the famous trapper, thought sleep was a waste of time and he was too worried about the day that was to rise with the sun in the morning to sleep, afraid that someone would beat him to his prize.20

For every fox a trapper brought to the King that man would receive a gold purse. With that money Dargo would be as rich as the King himself, and every hunter wanted it.21

Well except one, Dargo thought getting to his feet. Eric Daniels is a fool!22

Eric needed to learn where his loyalty lies, to the animals or as a hunter. A hunter’s purpose, Dargo thought, was to hunt the best. Eric hunted the small and the weak. One day Dargo asked him why; he only shook his head and replied:23

“Hunting the weak does not make you weak. Nor will hunting the strong increase your strength. I only kill what is needed.”
“Then what do you consider strength, Eric the wise?” Dargo asked in a mocking voice.24

Eric tapped his forehead, “strategies within the mind, expanding it, and shaping things to fit in the world. The strength of the mind.”25

“Strength of the mind,” Dargo shook his head chuckling at the memory as he emerged from the dark and quiet forest. 26

Before crossing the grassy training yard, he stopped in the shadows of an oak tree to survey his surroundings. A light was on in the barracks just as Dargo rubbed his eyes to see clearly it went out. Dargo watched a shadowy figure stealthily cross the yard in his direction. Quickly he drew his sword ready if the stranger came his way. He couldn’t see the face it was well hidden within the dark cloak that fitted his strong and broad figure perfectly.
Something was familiar about this man that seemed to catch Dargo off guard. He watched the figure running closers and closer to him then within a blink he was gone. Dargo’s eyes darted to each tree and along the edge of the forest on both of his sides.
Then in an instant everything thing seemed to pass him by and before he knew it a knife was at his throat. Breath came in deep breaths as he tried to keep himself calm.27

“Not a word,” the voice too was familiar but Dargo couldn’t place it. He kept quiet afraid to loose his life after a stupid mistake as to let an attacker slip past him.28

Then the strangest thing happened. His attacker began to laugh. First it was a low rumble then into a high pitched cackle. “Now, Dargo did you really think I would possibly kill my own comrade? As much fun as it sounds, beating on you is more fun.”29

“Eric?” Dargo’s voice came out in a whisper. He took a deep breath and Eric chuckled again taking his knife away. “What are you doing out here?”30

“The same thing you were, probably,” he replied without emotion in his voice.31

Dargo smiled. “Oh really, you too have your eyes on the prize?”32

“Oh no,” Eric said shaking his head, “we are in the service of our King remember, you bone-headed twit.” Dargo swung a blow at him, but Eric ducked too quickly. “Now, now is that nice?”33

Dargo hadn’t forgotten his sword he held. Remembering it he brought it up in a solute, “if you weren’t my comrade I would kill you,” he sheathed his sword and clasped the man on the back.
They walked out of the forest laughing. The crossed the training yard to the barracks as if they were long lost friends.34

ﻬﻬﻬﻬ35

Eric didn’t trust Dargo. He was a sly trapper and no one could outwit him except for Eric. For weeks Eric watched his every move, his restlessness making him suspicious until that night Dargo had been careless. Eric lay in his bed with too many thoughts and not enough room for sleep.36

What was Dargo doing? The question buzzed with curiosity in his mind. He got to his feet and dressed in the dark, and quietly slipped out the back door of the soldier’s barracks for some fresh air. Unlike Dargo, Eric made sure he wasn’t followed. Not only was Eric a hunter, but a fine soldier. He could see that with his training it also increased his hunting skills as he could also think like the animals he tracks.37

It was a few hours before dawn, but not all the stars were gone from the sky. He ran his fingers through his short cropped light brown hair thinking as he breathed in the crisp night air. The same question came back to him again and again.38

Ignoring it he crossed the training yard once more under the shadows of the trees and into the forest. He cut through the closely knitted together trees like a slowly weaving wisp of wind. He kept his pace for a few minutes until he stopped completely in a quiet glade cleared only of a few trees. The ground was littered with leaves. There was an odd silence and immediately Eric knew something was wrong.39

As a hunter and a soldier, his instincts were sharp. Now he tried to pin-point the wrongness. He scraped his foot along the ground scattering the leaves as he slowly took small steps until a leaf moved and a glimpse of metal shimmered in the dark. Carefully he knelt and quickly he uncovered the rest of what was under the leaves and gasped.40

Darn that man! Eric slapped his leg frustrated. A metal fox trap! He picked up a stick which triggered another one and another until Eric counted seven as they snapped closed.
He got to his feet shaking his head. Dawn was approaching in the distance and Eric had to get back before he was missed or it would look suspicious. Just as he was about to leave the hunter noticed a trap was occupied. The body was blanketed with leaves all except a reddish orange tail that stuck out.41

Brushing away more leaves he gazed down at the helpless red fox, it just laid there looking up at him. Eric knelt once more and pulled the metal teeth apart with all his strength until the metal broke apart and the fox was free yet it did not run away. It limped toward him as the sun began to climb the sky and it was then that Eric got a proper look at him. The fox looked to be about six weeks old with pleading eyes that turned the muscular soldier into mush.42

Eric sighed, making a decision by turning to face a tree hidden in the shadows, whether it was in the darkest hour or the lightest, and pulled out his knife, cutting out a hole large enough for the fox. The he scooped up some leaves and the young pup and put both in the hole, covering the fox with the leaves. When he was done, he admired his work before he walked out of the wood as stealthily as he had gone in.43

ﻬﻬﻬﻬ44

The next day Eric came back a little bit later to avoid Dargo who went to check his traps and reset every last one cursing at whatever animal had set them off as he worked. Eric shadowed him, laughing to him self as he listened to Dargo’s cursing. Once Dargo had left, Eric waited a little bit longer to see if he would come back. He never did, and Eric was free to check on the fox.45

He wasn’t so much as lonely to care for an abandoned fox. It was mainly because the fox trusted him. They became good friends even when the fox’s paw had healed and Eric insisted he go back home, but it refused to leave. Eric shrugged and didn’t oppose the matter grateful for the company.46

After the first week of caring for the fox, Eric began to set Dargo’s traps off every two days so it didn’t seem suspicious.
“He needs to learn,” Eric complained to the fox one day as it rubbed himself against Eric like a cat, “that money can’t pay for the lost of an animal. Hunting has its boundaries and he has long crossed it.”47

For the rest of the month the hunter kept to a routine and no one question him except Dargo, who was still bitter about his traps. Eric had to be extra careful since Dargo followed him like a lost puppy. Fortunately Eric was able to loose him taking long detours wherever he went. Eric was safe for now until one day Dargo accused Eric of setting off his traps in front of all the men in the barracks, and the training master.48

“I saw him do it!” Dargo argued.49

“Come now, Dargo,” Eric said putting a hand on the other man’s shoulder, but Dargo shrugged it off. “You’re just bitter that you can’t seem to trap anything,” he teased.50

The rest of the soldiers chuckled.51

“Ha ha, Eric, very funny,” Dargo said sarcastically, “you know perfectly well that I am a better trapper then the likes of you.”52

“And trapping the King’s money means more to you than the lives you destroy.”53

Dargo opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the training master, “listen to you to quarreling like a bunch of chattering squirrels. May I remind you that…”54

“You both serve the King,” Eric and Dargo finished hearing the same lecture for the fifteenth time within the month.55

The master glared at both of them before continuing, “Dargo, as a hunter you are given the same rights and laws as the rest of the hunters and soldiers and must be treated with respect and devotion. You’re a wonderful fighter, but you lack the wisdom and cunning stealth of Eric,” To Eric he said, “don’t let it go to your head.” He turned back to Dargo, “How many traps do you have set?”56

The trapper shrugged and replied bitterly, “eight if the idiot didn’t set them off again.”57

Eric contained himself as the master spoke again, “Dargo you know the limits on the number of traps. Four is the maximum. You are sentenced to reducing the number of traps to three and increase the number of hours of weapons train for the next month.” He turned to Eric and looked him in the eyes, “Eric, I want an honest answer. Did you set off Dargo’s traps?”58

A deep silence suffocated the barracks making Eric’s nose itch, but he ignored it. Eric knew he would be kicked out of the barracks, loose his hunter’s badge, and his soldiers privileges if he admitted the truth. No, he told himself, I will not lie.59

He hooked his arms behind his back and took his soldiers stance, squaring his shoulders and looked the training master in the eyes more sternly before replying, “Yes, sir, I did.”60

The men grumbled and argued with each other, but Dargo’s eyes lit with a mischievous smile. He was waiting for what came next. Eric ignored him and kept his eyes on the master.61

“Eric you know as well as I do, what your punishment will be,” Here it comes thought Eric, “may I have your badge.” He unclipped it from the side of his breeches and placed it in the master’s hand that he held out. 62

“May I have permission to speak freely?” Eric asked quietly.
The master nodded.63

He took a deep breath before he began, “Sir, is it so hard for Dargo,” he glared at him before continuing, “To understand that as a hunter he should be a respecter of all things and money shouldn’t be an issue?”64

“Eric, we all understand the laws of the King,” the master answered calmly.65

“And he still defies him,” interrupted Eric. “All he wants is his money, no loyalty at all.”66

“That’s absurd,” butted in Dargo, “I never….”67

“Enough of this talk,” the master cut him off, “Eric, as a soldier you are given your orders and you follow them without questions. The same goes for the rest of you. You’re time is about up, Eric, use it well.”68

Eric looked from the master to Dargo to the rest of the soldiers and back to the master, “very well then.” He walked to his bunk, packed his bag, stripped the sheets from the mattress, and only left the two sets of uniforms out. He shouldered his pack including his own weapons and turned to look at the stunned faces of each soldier. “Since the King’s Army doesn’t need a man that speaks his mind, then I guess I’m off.”69

The men still stared as he pasted them and out. Eric made one last trip to the forest to visit the friendly fox before he disappeared.70

ﻬﻬﻬﻬ71

One year later Eric walked into a weapon maker shop. This time he was here to trade. Since his disappearance he had bought himself a piece of land and built his own cabin. The ex-soldier was now a weapon training master, and bow maker which he sold all his work in the market.72

Within the time he spent alone his appearance had changed. He wasn’t clean shaven, but grew out a beard that matched the color of the hair on his head. His body that was lean and muscular had also filled his shoulders and now he had shoulders that broadened out. He was more muscular than Dargo had been the last time he saw him.73

“Sir, may I help you,” the shop keeper asked.74

“Yes, I need a regular sword the length of my arm,” Eric held up his right arm where his archery band covered half his lower arm and was twice the size due to his muscles.75

“Ah, right then I think I might have the right one,” the man led him down a row of spears that turned into swords then stopped.76

The shop keeper took different size swords from the shelf and measured each one against Eric’s right arm. After about the fifth one he took from the shelf and measured it against Eric’s arm the keeper looked frustrated.77

“Is everything alright?” inquired Eric.78

“I’m not sure,” the man replied, “I’ve never met a man with your arm length.”79

“Is that good or bad?”80

The shop keeper shrugged indicating that he didn’t know.81

Eric didn’t press the matter.82

When the shop keeper finally found the right size sword Eric wanted, he was relieved. Eric traded one of his hand made bows for the sword then Eric went out hunting again. The taste of blood on his lips made him edgy delight as he set out and selected a bran new target, Dargo.83

He had already gone to the King to stop the madness and broke the trappers’ bribery yet Dargo was still killing off the most game. Now it came down to Eric to outwit him again.84

For days Eric followed Dargo’s tracks stealthily until the days turned into weeks and still there was no sign of the trapper. He must have increased his stealth and speed, thought Eric wise decision. Dargo’s new skills puzzled Eric and made him frustrated until he remembered a hunter’s tip: “Don’t seek out your quarry, let it come to you.”85

He needed to wait for Dargo and set a trap and that is what he did. Two more days rolled in and out as Eric waited and waited until Dargo blindly walked into his trap.86

“Hello Dargo,” Eric said with ease.87

“Eric, I should have known it was you,” Dargo said bitterly.88

“Yes, you should have,” taunted Eric.89

“What do you want,” Dargo spat the words at him.90

Eric sighed then replied, “What do I want? Dargo have you received your prize yet?”91

Dargo glared at him, “How would I know that he would break the reward bonds? I worked hard for that money and what do I get? Nothing!”92

“And you deserved nothing too,” Eric short back, but still contained himself. “For all those losses, now the rest of us have nothing to eat while you sit on your animal hides with all the good game.”93

Dargo’s mouth had fallen open, “it was you! You told the King to break the reward.”94

“Of course it was me,” Eric said obviously, “did you possibly think I was going to let you rob the Kingdom of its income? Now you have robbed the hunting grounds of the best game and for what?”95

“I thought you don’t hunt the best,” sneered Dargo.96

“I’m not as selfish as you, Dargo,” Eric replied coolly. “Besides it not just me you have robbed, it the rest of the hunters.”97

“Well, they should have got there before I did then,” he chuckled softly.98

Eric was losing his patience. I should just kill him here, he thought, but that wouldn’t be fair to Dargo as far as honor went except the trapper didn’t have any to start with.99

Finally Eric ignored the inner voice in his head and raised his sword above Dargo, blinded with rage. Swiftly Dargo unsheathed his sword and blocked the blow. The trapper tried a surprise attack, but Eric was too quick and the two men’s swords clashed and sparks flew everywhere.100

Dargo and Eric battled it out for at least an hour and a half, clashing swords, ducking, and blocking blows until Dargo went to block again, but missed and Eric’s sword went right through the trapper’s rib cage. The light in Dargo’s eyes went out leaving the body cold soaking the flattened grass with blood.101

Swiftly and quietly Eric cleaned his blade. He reported to the King and then back to the soldier’s barracks to live his life as a soldier again.