The Boy From The Forest

Vincent started back with a group of Woodlanders. There were a couple groups from the Cultivated Lands that would be going in the same direction, but they did not seem to want to travel with the Woodlanders. Whatever.

It was quite a group of Woodlanders. There was only one other man from the group that had trained with Sergeant Hardcastle. Vincent made his way over to this man. What was his name, anyway?

“Hi. You trained with Sergeant Hardcastle too, didn’t you?”

“Hey, so did you. So I don’t want to hear any smart remarks about it.”

“Hey no, I did not mean that. Just since we came from the same place…”

What’s his name had stomped off by then. From that moment, he made every possible effort to stay away from Vincent. Vincent figured it did not matter since he did not even know the man’s name.

That first day, they skirted the edge of the Forest since none of them came from that particular section of Forest. The sun had nearly set when they came to a good-sized village beside the road. Nailed on a post was a board with some kind of markings drawn on it.

“The village of Nabal.” Someone said. Odd that a Woodlander could read.

The group of Woodlanders started to walk down the main street of the village of Nabal. A three-legged dog ran across the street, then turned back to look at them. Coming towards them was an old man bent over, carrying an immense bundle of sticks.

The old man noticed Vincent looking at his immense bundle of sticks. “You there, haven’t you ever seen sticks before? Coming from where you do, there has got to be sticks all over the place!! You don’t need to come here to try to steal our sticks!!”

“No, we are not going to steal anything. We have been travelling all day, and we are looking for a place to sleep tonight. A barn or something would be fine.”

“Why not, and then when you leave, you can just take all the chickens and cows with you!!” This was from the tavern keeper who was standing at the door of his tavern. In one meaty fist, he held a meat cleaver.

“And while you are here, you will be looking at all the pretty girls!” The woman who said this was as wide as she was tall. She was certainly nothing to look at.

“Where are you all from, anyway?” This was the man with the load of sticks again.

“We come from different places in the Forest. We have been…”

“The Forest is that way. People Like You would be a lot happier there.”

They left, going out the same way they had come. It was well after dark when they settled down in a deserted cow pasture.

At first light, they stood on their feet and began to walk again. There was no breakfast, and everybody was really grouchy by now. Vincent decided to keep his mouth shut unless someone talked directly to him. No one did. Late morning, two of them split off and headed into the Forest. Their village was in that direction. Soon after that, the rest of them headed into the Forest on a well-traveled track. It was cooler in the shade of the great trees, and Vincent found some acorns that he could eat. He still had to travel a long way to the east before he would come to the hamlet of Om.

That night, the ones in the main body built a bonfire. There was some kind of meeting, but Vincent could not hear what they were saying. He was not invited to the meeting. When he first woke up the next morning, Vincent knocked down a squirrel with a rock. He ate it - fur, eyeballs and all. No one came over to try to take it away from him.

Why was that? Vincent looked around the camp, and they were all gone. The unfriendly man from Sergeant Hardcastle’s camp was still there, but he did not count.

Vincent took his time getting ready to travel that day. He let the unfriendly man leave ahead of him, so that he would not be thrown together with him on the road.

In the middle of the afternoon, he came to some kind of settlement. There was no sign, which Vincent would not be able to read anyway. And here was a man working in a turnip patch.

“Hello there!! I have come from the war. We fought alien invaders from the sky and sent them back to where they came from. Men from the Forest and from the Cultivated Lands all fought on the same side. We have proved that everyone, no matter where they come from, can live and work together.”

“This here ground is getting pretty dry. Even the weeds are having a hard time. That Joe, on the other side of the township, he has a field that is in a creek bottom. It is not dry at all in his field. And if it is, he can carry water from the creek. It’s right there by his field. Why couldn’t my ancestors have settled by the creek? It makes me so mad.”

“Hey, the aliens we fought were horrid monsters. They had arms and legs that were all twisty, and you couldn’t look one in the eye because they really didn’t have a face.”

“If I ever catch that Joe somewhere by himself, I am going to knock him in the head.”

Vincent started walking away. He decided to look somewhere else for someone to appreciate him.

Johanaston

Johanaston was satisfied. Events had unfolded in a huge rush, too many and too fast to manage each little occurrence. But life was usually like that. This planet was still on the path to becoming a great civilization. It would be a long road.

At The Castle of The King

Princess Icelandia was heartbroken when she heard of Eric’s death. She cried great big tears and hugged Norman’s neck. Funny, Norman thought, she smelled like onions.

The King started teaching Norman the deep dark secrets that The King must know. Some of them kept Norman awake at night. Norman had no time to shoot arrows at pears, but now he did have a very nice bow.

Vincent was back at the Hamlet of Om. Nothing had changed. Old Wayne was still walking around shouting crazy things. Vincent realized now that none of the adults paid Old Wayne any attention. Vincent could have saved himself some trouble if he had known that earlier. When he snared a fat rabbit, he used it to pay for a visit to the Oracle. She seemed kind of surprised at Vincent’s idea that all should live together in harmony and share what they had. She tried to go easy on Vincent’s silly ideas, so he would give her the rabbit. It was a very nice rabbit.

Princess Icelandia climbed into her bed. Alone at last, she did not need to pretend to be sad and heartbroken. She did feel sorry for The Queen; she really was heartbroken at the death of her son, Eric.

Those onions stunk, but they were necessary if she was going to cry like she was supposed to. She did get a nice hug from Norman when he first returned. Soon the mourning period for Eric would be over; then she would see what the future held for her. Hopefully, her future held Norman.