Book One

By C Ray Longhurst

Part 1

Two brothers strolled along the narrow trail at the forest’s edge, free from concern as they argued who was better with the sling. For Seth, there was no argument; he was the better shot, which made the teasing worse for his younger brother Lucas.

“You couldn’t hit a giant if he stood two paces from you,” Seth laughed.

“Could so!” Lucas cried. “I’d hit him right between the eyes.”

Seth scoffed, “You’d be lucky you didn’t hit yourself!”

As they neared the crossroad Seth gazed ahead, following the southward path with his eyes as it continued further into the wilderness.

“What is it, Seth?”

Seth's gaze remained distant. “Have you ever wanted to know what’s that way?” It seemed peaceful; the familiar forest on one side, the tall grass of the open fields on the other, and the rolling hills in the distance.

“Papa said it’s dangerous to go that way, he doesn’t even like us playing in the forest.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“We could go look,” Lucas said hopefully.

“No, Father’s probably right, best to stay close to home,” Seth said, and turned onto the path that led into the woods.

Seth always took the lead whenever they went adventuring or played in the yard. Lucas never argued and was always happy to follow, skipping along behind. Seth knew that his brother looked up to him and was sure that he would follow him to the ends of the world. They weren't just brothers, they were best friends, inseparable, even in punishment. Once, when Seth was caught stealing apples from Mr. Olmar’s orchard, his father set him to work in the old farmer’s fields harvesting onions. When evening drew near, Lucas stole a knob of bread and a slice of beef from their father’s kitchen and brought it to Seth. He then helped to harvest the onions. They worked late into the evening filling barrow after barrow until the large field had been plucked empty.

Seth smiled as he remembered Lucas standing before him; holding the supper he had stolen and grinning cheerfully. Their father always commented that Lucas reminded him of their mother; blessed with grace, same hazel-green eyes, fine dark hair, and as charming as they were smart. Very much unlike himself, Seth thought. He likened himself to his father—a rock, plain and rough looking. His dead straight yellow-blonde hair and pale blue eyes added nothing to his otherwise plain features.

The absence of Lucas’s constant chatter brought Seth out of his daydream. He stopped and turned. “What is it?” He asked.

“I think Papa is calling us.” Lucas replied.

Seth listened. He could hear the gentle sounds of the forest around him; a bird hidden in the trees called to another bird deeper in the forest and a cool breeze blew against his face, playing with his hair.

“There! Can you hear?” Lucas whispered. “It is Papa!”

Seth strained to hear the gruff voice of his father beyond the forest. “He must want us to come and work the field again today.”

“What are we gonna do?” Lucas whined. “I’m sick of working the damned fields.”

“Yeah, me too, but Father needs help if we are to get a good harvest.” Seth turned to his brother and saw the look he always had just before doing something that would get them in to trouble. “We should head back. Father will throttle us if we don’t.”

“I’m not going back.” Lucas’s grin widened. “He’ll just have to harvest without us.”

“Without you don’t you mean. I’m heading back.”

“Please you can’t go, we never get any free time these days. We won’t be gone all day, and we can work extra to make up.”

Seth sighed, he was sick of working the fields as well.

“I’ll let you take the first shot with the sling.”

“What do you mean you’ll let me take the first shot?” Seth responded. A grin crept onto his face. “I’ll take the first shot and I’ll shoot you in the arse.”

Lucas turned and ran into the forest. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

“You better run ‘cos I’m coming for you,” He called, chasing after him. With the thrill of another adventure Seth forgot all about his chores, and their father.

Seth ran, following the trail. Lucas had long disappeared into the woods ahead but he knew where to go. Their destination was a favourite. He stopped in a small clearing to catch his breath and he heard Lucas call out. The sound of his voice echoed through the woods. “I'm coming,” he called back.

Eventually he pushed through the shrubs and stumbled into their secret glade.

“Thought you’d never get here,” Lucas said grinning. He was sitting atop a large rock that hung over a small waterfall, its gentle waters splashing into a small stream that flowed along the edge of the glade.

Seth bent over, chest heaving, and his hands resting on his knees. “How did you get so damn fast?” he said between breaths. Then flopped onto the soft, damp grass and rolled onto his back. “I swear you grew wings and flew.” He listened to the gentle babbling of the stream and the splish-sploshing of the small waterfall. A gentle breeze passed through the forest swaying the trees and allowing a glint of sunlight to pass through, hitting him directly in the eyes. He groaned and covered his face with his arm.

Lucas climbed down from the rock ledge and joined his brother. He crossed his legs and began picking at blades of grass. They stayed that way for a while, enjoying the quiet of the forest. Finally, Seth sat up. “I’m still going to shoot you in the arse.”

Lucas threw the blades of grass he had just freshly picked at Seth.

“Go on then, set them up,” Seth ordered, brushing the grass off his pants.

Lucas got up and collected the various pieces of broken pottery he and his brother used for target practice. He studied several pieces of a small pot. “I think next time we should bring more targets. These are getting too small.”

“I don’t think there are any more. Father will start to notice soon.”

Lucas set up the biggest pieces on a low hanging branch twenty paces away, and then strolled back to Seth. “Here you go,” he said, throwing the sling to his brother. “Said I’d let you have the first shot.”

Seth caught it making a tsk-tsk sound and began looking for the perfect stone near the stream. He searched until he had found one he liked best. He loaded it into the small pouch of the sling and began swinging it above his head. Slowly he built up speed, aimed then let go, sending the stone sailing through the air. “Bullseye!” he shouted above the sound of pottery breaking.

“Lucky shot”

“Lucky shot!” Seth repeated. “Let me see you do better?”

Lucas snatched the sling and found himself a nice stone. He took aim, swung a few times then let it fly. They both waited for the sound of breaking pottery, but it never came, just the soft rustle of leaves as the stone disappeared into the forest.

Seth Laughed.

The sun slipped across the sky stretching the shadows of the trees and darkening the glade. With the waning sun, the forest around them became cooler.

“Okay this is the last shot. If I get this then it’s a perfect score,” Seth said, as he hunted around the edge of the stream for another stone. Lucas stood back and chuckled.

“Okay, here goes.” He loaded the sling and swung it in the air. He was about to let the shot fly when he felt something splatter on his face. The distraction forced him to release the shot early, sending it wayward with a ‘plop’ into the stream. He wiped at his face, smearing the berry juice. “What did you do that for?”

Lucas was bent over with laughter.

Seth picked up the few berries that hadn’t burst and loaded them into the sling. His jaw was set, and his eyes narrowed.

Lucas started to run. “Wait—Seth no—please—don’t.” But he wasn't fast enough. The berries hit their target—right on his arse.

Seth grinned. “See, I told you I was going to shoot you in the arse,”

“That stings. That really really stings.”