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Bêthberry · 02-04-2004, 10:10 AM

Settlers

It was the morning of the second day after Borgand's announcement of the hunting competition. The weather had finally cleared; even the morning mists and dew had evaporated rapidly in the heat of the sun in an unclouded sky. Was this a portend of more promising things? Calumdril would not say. He was not superstitious and would not let the vissitudes of weather determine his aim or his endeavours. Yet he was glad to have the dreary events and rainstorms behind him.

He felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to see Cuilad standing shyly beside him, his eyes gleeming but his mouth held tightly as if expecting to be turned down.

Calumdril noted with a quiet wariness the eagerness of the young Cuilad. It had taken some discussion with Collothion to agree to allow his mute son to join the hunting competition. But the boy was chaffing under the restrictions of the settlement and he did not share his father's endless fascination with herbs and plants. Calumdril thought it interesting that the boy could hear but not speak. Finally, though, Borgand's and Ithil's gentle remonstrations won over the father, particularly since Calumdril had agreed to take the boy under his wing. They would be the left flank of the settlers' hunting team, responsible for some of the advance scouting.

"Then you are ready to become a mature member of this settlement, Cuilad?" the Ithilian asked solemnly.

The boy nodded eagerly, his eyes flashing with excitement.

"You remember my lessons on tracking yesterday, about the rubbing of bark and way that grasses are cropped?"

This time the eyes flashed with impatience.

"And your pack? You are ready for a long trek, over several nights if need be?"

Cuilad's face flushed. He was being treated like a child and he began an indignant frown that glowered at the older man.

The frown passed to Calumdril as he regretted his treatment of the boy, after he had spoken so strongly for him with the father. He knew the boy had no mother to coddle him. Calumdril remembered how much he had hated being patronized as a young boy. Why could he not forgo the very ways with this boy which he knew were wrong? Old habits are cultivated even where they are despised, he decided.

"You are right, and I apologize if I seemed not to respect your talents. You have already done more than many other of the young people in helping your father collect his herbs and prepare his potions. I am proud to have you with me."

The boy nodded and then silently the two trekked out towards their horses to begin the competition.

Once on horseback, the two turned towards the camp which was now stirring. Calumdril held a horn to his mouth and blew three times. Settlers came out of their tents, Kaben peeked out of his shop, Ithil suddenly appeared at their side. A cheer rose up as the settlers realized the hunt was on.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:35 AM February 05, 2004: Message edited by: Bêthberry ]

02-04-2004, 10:10 AM	#88
Bêthberry Cryptic Aura Join Date: May 2002 Posts: 5,977	Settlers It was the morning of the second day after Borgand's announcement of the hunting competition. The weather had finally cleared; even the morning mists and dew had evaporated rapidly in the heat of the sun in an unclouded sky. Was this a portend of more promising things? Calumdril would not say. He was not superstitious and would not let the vissitudes of weather determine his aim or his endeavours. Yet he was glad to have the dreary events and rainstorms behind him. He felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to see Cuilad standing shyly beside him, his eyes gleeming but his mouth held tightly as if expecting to be turned down. Calumdril noted with a quiet wariness the eagerness of the young Cuilad. It had taken some discussion with Collothion to agree to allow his mute son to join the hunting competition. But the boy was chaffing under the restrictions of the settlement and he did not share his father's endless fascination with herbs and plants. Calumdril thought it interesting that the boy could hear but not speak. Finally, though, Borgand's and Ithil's gentle remonstrations won over the father, particularly since Calumdril had agreed to take the boy under his wing. They would be the left flank of the settlers' hunting team, responsible for some of the advance scouting. "Then you are ready to become a mature member of this settlement, Cuilad?" the Ithilian asked solemnly. The boy nodded eagerly, his eyes flashing with excitement. "You remember my lessons on tracking yesterday, about the rubbing of bark and way that grasses are cropped?" This time the eyes flashed with impatience. "And your pack? You are ready for a long trek, over several nights if need be?" Cuilad's face flushed. He was being treated like a child and he began an indignant frown that glowered at the older man. The frown passed to Calumdril as he regretted his treatment of the boy, after he had spoken so strongly for him with the father. He knew the boy had no mother to coddle him. Calumdril remembered how much he had hated being patronized as a young boy. Why could he not forgo the very ways with this boy which he knew were wrong? Old habits are cultivated even where they are despised, he decided. "You are right, and I apologize if I seemed not to respect your talents. You have already done more than many other of the young people in helping your father collect his herbs and prepare his potions. I am proud to have you with me." The boy nodded and then silently the two trekked out towards their horses to begin the competition. Once on horseback, the two turned towards the camp which was now stirring. Calumdril held a horn to his mouth and blew three times. Settlers came out of their tents, Kaben peeked out of his shop, Ithil suddenly appeared at their side. A cheer rose up as the settlers realized the hunt was on. <font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:35 AM February 05, 2004: Message edited by: Bêthberry ] __________________ I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away.