Through The Woods
Arn knew when the day dawned that chill and cold would come soon. He could tell by the way his striped cat Lion snuggled close as he lay under his warm furs in bed, by the way some of his old injuries ached, by the way his joints had stiffened more than usual in the night. With a groan, he got up and stretched, elbows and shoulders popping.
“Snow too, no doubt.” he said to the feline as he lifted the lid on an overlarge clay pot to grab a biscuit for breakfast. “The air’s been damp of late.” He thanked the fates he’d had the foresight to bring plenty of firewood indoors, since rooting through a snowbank was not among things he enjoyed doing. Plus it made stoking the fire in the night a lot easier. His cozy cabin was still warm, thanks to the small room size and heavy curtains that blocked any drafts from the windows. Between that and layers of warm wool clothing he was putting on he managed quite well, even when the temperatures turned to biting cold. His good fortune extended to the animals he kept. His three hens-Snow, Midnight, and Dawn-were well fed and happy. As a result, there were eggs waiting for him every morning when he went out to tend to them. His great grey horse Frost had a snug little shed to shelter from the weather in, as well as a thick coat of hair. “Eat well, friend.” Arn said to the animal as he dumped barley into his feed pan. “We’ve much to do today, and precious little time before the snow flies.”
That was the biggest problem with harsh weather. It made things take more time. A ride that only might take a morning suddenly had more hours tacked onto it if the weather turned for the worst. It slowed him down, and being slowed made him anxious. There were times that lives depended on him, for he was a Guardian. Not of men, for they looked after one another well enough. But of the Forest, and all the creatures therein. And today was such a day.
“Lion, be a good lass and watch things while I’m away.” he said as he stepped back indoors and began to put on the rest of his gear for his patrol. His cat, not having moved from the hollow his body had left in the down-filled mattress, merely flicked her tail in answer. Arn allowed himself a chuckle as he put on his outer layers. Gloves, kerchief, hood, cloak. Lion’s job was to keep nibbling and gnawing pests away from his stores, and that she did with great zeal. But anything else he was on his own. Not that anything ever happened. As he protected the beasts of the Forest, he himself was protected as well. As long as he did not take more than he needed, as long as he did not kill without good reason, as long as he kept his covenant with the Spirit, he was safe.
As a mark of this agreement, he carried a wondrous weapon-a longbow made from the very fabric of the Forest itself. Yew in make and nearly as long as his arms spread wide, it was woven through and through with enchantments. It never missed, never broke, never failed. The quiver was never empty of arrows no matter how many he shot, and when fired they shifted to bolts of pure energy mid flight. But, as often was the case with otherworldly gifts, there were caveats. The bow and arrows were gifts of the Forest, and the Forest was the source of their power. If he strayed from the boundaries too far, it’s powers waned or even disappeared entirely. It became an ordinary bow. The other was he could never use it’s power unjustly. He could take an animal for food or end its life with mercy or defend himself from enemies with it, but if he sought to use it in a way the Spirit deemed unworthy, the spells warding it remained dormant. He could still shoot with it, and shoot well given his skill, but there would be nothing magical about the shots.
Heading back to Frost’s shed, he gave the horse a thorough brush down before putting a saddle and bridle on him. “I envy your hair, friend.” he said as he threw a leg over the horse’s back. Nudging Frost’s ribs with his heel, he headed out into the brightening day.
