Legends Lost Tesnayr Page 4

  Chapter II

  Virnae

  Nearly two months had passed since Tesnayr had arrived in the village and healed from his wounds. He busied himself with cleaning a stable in town when a woman entered. He had seen her around from time to time, but never paid much attention to her until that day.

  “Pardon me,” said the woman.

  Tesnayr looked up from his work. He wiped the sweat off his brow.

  “You are Tesnayr?”

  Tesnayr nodded in affirmation to her question. “My father has some work that needs to be done on his farm and would like to know if he could hire your services.”

  Tesnayr continued raking the muck out of the stable. “Do you have a name?”

  “Virnae. He will pay you well for it,” she added quickly.

  “Why does your father not ask me himself?” asked Tesnayr.

  “He is busy and since I was coming into town today, he sent me with the message,” replied Virnae. She looked about nervously. “He knows that your work is valued by everyone here. If you have other commitments he will understand.”

  “I have no other commitments. I shall be there by midmorning.”

  Virnae seemed pleased. “Our farm is two miles east of here near the big rock. We will see you then.”

  She left without another word. Tesnayr stared after her. She had seemed apprehensive to be in the stable with him. Not surprising. He had developed a reputation of not only being a reliable work hand, but of also being a man best left alone. Some people had the misfortune of pushing him too far and Tesnayr was certain that Virnae, like everyone else, had heard the stories. No doubt he had Mrs. Bixby to thank for that.

  As agreed, Tesnayr arrived on the farm by midmorning. Her father, Firwyk, greeted him warmly. He was a portly man and his skin was dark from years of working in the sun. He showed Tesnayr to the field that he wanted plowed for planting.

  “I hope to have a good crop this year,” he said, “But am too old to handle the plow these days. I’m afraid my aching joints won’t allow it.”

  “I should have it done within a day,” Tesnayr said.

  Tesnayr set about the task wholeheartedly. He made fast work of it since Firwyk had a strong ox to help pull the plow. By the end of the day the entire field had been cultivated. Before the sun could set, he, Firwyk, and Virnae planted the seeds for that year’s crop.

  “Now if it would rain, we could water it,” commented Firwyk when they had finished.

  “I could build a small irrigation system,” suggested Tesnayr. “It won’t be big, but could draw water from the river.”

  “That would be excellent,” beamed Firwyk.

  Tesnayr impressed Firwyk immensely with his willingness to work that the old man invited him back for more chores. He had Tesnayr help him with repairs to his storehouse in addition to the irrigation ditch. Tesnayr’s carpentry skills came into use for mending broken chairs and tables. These jobs kept him busy for several weeks. In that time Virnae forgot about her wariness of Tesnayr and began snatching moments alone with him. Many days she brought him cool water to drink after he had spent several hours in the hot sun. Other times she would bring him things to mend, which he gladly set time aside for, even though he knew that many of these small tasks she could have done on her own. These moments provided them the chance for conversation, moments he began to look forward to.

  “I brought you some water,” Virnae said as she handed Tesnayr a jug of fresh, cool water.

  Tesnayr took the jug and drank deeply. “Thank you,” he told her, pausing from his work.

  “That cat seems to follow you everywhere.”

  Tesnayr turned and noticed the small, black cat perched on a ledge watching him intently. It was true that the cat seemed to go wherever he did. He had learned to ignore the feline. “So he does,” replied Tesnayr.

  “My father thinks highly of you. He said he has never met anyone so willing to work such as you.”

  “And what do you think?” he asked her.

  Virnae smiled shyly in answer which brought a chuckle from Tesnayr.

  “Oh look,” exclaimed Virnae. She pointed at the trees. Tesnayr glanced in that direction and saw an unusual bird disappear below the tree line. A few moments later it flew upward vanishing into the sky. “I think it was the phoenix.”

  “Phoenix?” said Tesnayr, puzzled.

  Virnae took a deep breath before explaining. “There is a legend in these parts about a bird known as the phoenix. It is no ordinary bird. It can heal people’s wounds with its tears, and carry burdens that others find too onerous.

  “The phoenix appears to those who need it most or at times of despair to inspire hope. Though the problem with legends is that most people do not realize when they have seen one. Some see the phoenix and attribute it to being just another bird. Others see it and realize that there is none other like it and always hope to see it again. I like to include myself in the latter group. Such beliefs keep me going. What do you believe?”

  Tesnayr handed the jug back to Virnae. “I once believed in a great many things.”

  “So you believe in nothing?”

  “The cost of belief was more than I could bear. Men are no different than animals.”

  “Do you honestly think that?”

  Tesnayr tossed his hammer in the dirt. “Men are best left alone.”

  “A man who believes in nothing is not a man at all. You must believe in something, Tesnayr.”

  Meow.

  “Even the cat agrees with me,” said Virnae.

  “Virnae—”

  “I have to go,” she said. Virnae paused a moment. “Many men have asked for my hand in marriage. I turned them all down because they were all arrogant. For you, I might make an exception.” Virnae ran off in the direction of her mother.

  Inwardly, Virnae scolded herself for her last statement. She didn’t know why she had said it. It just came out. But something about Tesnayr caught her interest and she knew that he was the man she wanted to marry.

  Weeks passed and Virnae found her original opinions on the man to be flawed. The rumors around town had him painted as a gruff, no nonsense, and unemotional man. Though Tesnayr was stubborn and to the point, he also conveyed a tenderness that others did not. He treated her with respect and never assumed her incapable of anything just because she was a woman.

  Virnae was very aware of an emotional barrier that existed and attributed it to the manner in which he arrived to the land. She knew there were things about his past that he did not want to remember and never pushed the issue. With each visit she found herself eagerly awaiting another.

  Tesnayr visited Virnae’s home often to help her father with the farm. Even when there was no work to be done he stopped by to visit Virnae.

  These extra visits had not gone unnoticed by Firwyk. With a childlike giddiness, he observed them while pretending to be otherwise occupied. He may have been old, but he wasn’t stupid. He had noticed the change that took place between the two. Virnae became more welcoming around Tesnayr and Tesnayr seemed more human around her. Yes, their union would do them both good. He raised his daughter to be strong willed and knew Tesnayr could handle it. Secretly, Firwyk had hoped the two would decide to marry. Hence why he asked Tesnayr to help on his farm in the first place.

  After several hints from Virnae, Tesnayr finally plucked up the courage to ask Firwyk’s permission to marry her. Firwyk readily agreed, overjoyed at the prospect of his daughter marrying a hard worker who would more than provide for her. He would be proud to pass the farm onto Tesnayr. He quickly set a date. In his day, people did not waste time planning a wedding and dragging out the festivities. He figured if they could stand each other, and both wanted marriage, the sooner the better. Besides he wasn’t growing any younger and wanted to be around when the first grandchild was born.

  Far from where Firwyk congratulated himself on his matchmaking skills, sat Tesnayr and Virnae in the field looking at the stars. Virnae hummed a little tune as Tesnayr
listened.

  “That is a sweet melody,” he said.

  “It belongs to a song my father used to sing to me,” she replied.

  “Sing it for me?”

  Virnae cleared her throat as she prepared to sing for Tesnayr.

  River of peace, again we meet.

  Along the windy path

  I see your streams.

  Take me home; away from where I roam.

  This I ask: guide me

  By your watery dome.

  Foolish was I as a young lad.

  Wisdom gained should make me glad.

  Will you allow me to follow?

  Your noble path

  Will cure my sorrow.

  Please Gentle River lead me far from here.

  I long for peace at long last.

  Oh, River, guide me home.

  Tesnayr mulled over the lullaby for several moments grasping the meaning behind the words. They reminded him of himself and what he longed for. He noticed Virnae watching him. “That was lovely,” he said.

  “I’ve upset you,” she cried.

  “No.” he said calming her. “On the contrary. You have brought me peace.”

  Virnae snuggled into his arms and stared at the sky hoping that this moment would not end.

  “Virnae,” said Tesnayr, “Will marry me?”

  A small smile escaped Virnae’s lips. She was glad the darkness concealed it. Containing her excitement, she said with what dignity she had, “Of course I will.”

  The day after proposing to Virnae, Tesnayr rode into town for supplies. He pulled on the reins of the draft horses easing the cart to a stop. Children’s laughter caught his attention. He noticed a boy tossing something in the air and catching it. Curious, Tesnayr approached them. He snatched the object from the boy’s hands. It was a broken spearhead. Tesnayr studied it immediately recognizing the weapon. A mark on the spearhead gave it away.

  “Where did you get this?” he demanded.

  “Down by the river,” said the boy.

  Tesnayr ignored the boy’s outstretched hand and threw the spearhead into a nearby fire. “Best stay in town.” He walked away, unconcerned about the stares that followed him.

  Tesnayr arrived back at Nigilin’s later that day. He could not find the man anywhere. Tesnayr searched for Nigilin all around the cottage and even outside. Worried, he raced to the beach and noticed a lone figure standing there looking out at the water.

  “It’s been there all afternoon,” said Nigilin as Tesnayr approached.

  Tesnayr turned in the direction Nigilin pointed and saw a ship. This ship had black sails. Tesnayr recognized it, but did not betray that recognition. “Has it been still the entire time?”

  “Yes,” Nigilin said. “At first I ignored it, but when it never moved I paid closer attention. It has remained still for hours. Almost as though it were watching and waiting.”

  “Strange that it should not move behind those cliffs and conceal itself,” pondered Tesnayr. “Unless they feel that we are no threat.”

  “I thought so too.” Nigilin looked at Tesnayr’s bewildered expression. “I was not always a farmer. Those rumors about strange beasts wandering through our lands, I believe we have found the source.”

  The two watched as the ship suddenly began to move. It disappeared around the bend.

  “It appears that they have somewhere to be. What do you think it is?”

  Tesnayr did not answer immediately. “I have my suspicions. I hope I am wrong. Undoubtedly they had scouting parties mapping the terrain and they have returned to their ship. Those on board will have moved away from shore. Far enough to avoid detection and damage on the rocks. They will return.”

  “They are getting confident in our lack of alarm to their presence,” said Nigilin.

  “Maybe so,” replied Tesnayr, “Though they have kept to the shadows. Something is headed this way. We’d best be watchful.”

  “Agreed,” said Nigilin. “I have something to show you.”

  Tesnayr followed the man to another part of the shoreline not far from where they stood. He lit the lamp that he carried with him and pointed it toward a secluded area. Tesnayr recognized the beast lying on the ground immediately.

  “When did you find it?” he asked.

  “Soon after I noticed the ship,” replied Nigilin. “He was dead when I found him.”

  “Undoubtedly killed by his own,” said Tesnayr. “His leg looks like it was broken. Orcs do not believe in saving their sick or wounded. They kill those they deem incapable of going into battle. They never were intelligent when it came to disposing of their dead.”

  Nigilin lowered the lamp. “I thought you would recognize it.”

  “Have you told anyone else?”

  “I told Derik, the constable. He told to me bury it and not tell anyone else of this. Apparently he is afraid of starting a panic. So much so that he is unwilling to admit that something is terribly wrong and to prepare for it.” Nigilin sighed. “All we can do is be aware of this. The scavengers on this beach will take care of the body. It will be gone by morning.” He walked back to the cottage.

  Tesnayr rubbed his hands over his face. It seemed that his past was returning from the grave despite his efforts to be rid of it. He heard a meow nearby and twisted around to face the black cat. “I have not seen you in a while,” he said, turning away.

  “But I have been watching you,” said a voice.

  Tesnayr jerked his head to face to cat. He could have sworn that he heard someone speaking, but the only other thing present was the cat. The cat stared at him, unblinking. Tesnayr shook his head attributing the voice to his imagination. “Cats do not talk,” he said to himself as he strolled back to the cottage. The black feline followed him unnoticed.

  The next several weeks were spent in much the same way as before. Very few discoveries were made to cause concern and the body of the orc that Nigilin found remained the only one. Any anxieties that were there before waned and people went about their normal activities.

  Tesnayr on the other hand, was not convinced that things had returned to normal. He remained uneasy and always carried a dagger with him. He spent hours each day outside manufacturing items, digging trenches, and setting up rope in such a way that could only be taken as a trap. For hours on end he disappeared. Nigilin knew better than to ask Tesnayr what he was up to, but he had an inkling.

  One morning Nigilin woke and looked out the window. Then he noticed something peculiar outside. The black cat that frequented his place walked toward the cottage, but not in its usual carefree manner. Instead it wove its way in curved circles as though it were navigating a maze.

  Curious, Nigilin went outside heading straight for where the cat was. He cautiously approached what looked like a bed of seaweed on the sand. Carefully, Nigilin lifted it. Just as he thought. Beneath the seaweed was a deep hole with spikes on the bottom. Instantly, Nigilin knew who put it there and why.

  He spotted the other piles of seaweed marking death traps. He made a mental note of the line of traps so as to avoid walking into them. He figured that Tesnayr would inform him about them soon enough. Apparently, the discarded body on the beach had rattled him.

  The entire town was abuzz for the wedding. Neither Virnae nor Tesnayr could walk anywhere in town without being congratulated on their upcoming marriage. They both set about with wedding preparations. Many of the men gathered together to help Tesnayr build a new home for himself and his bride. The women helped Virnae make things to furnish and decorate the new home. All the excitement about a wedding consumed the town’s attention rendering them oblivious to the outside world, including Tesnayr.

  Tesnayr and Virnae strolled through town one day planning their wedding feast. They bought supplies so that the women could begin preparing the banquet. The gloomy day threatened rain but did little to diminish the joyous mood of the townspeople. The couple stood in front of an apple display.

  “Perhaps we should have apples at the feast,” suggested Virna
e.

  “Just apples? You do not wish to turn them into some elaborate meal,” said Tesnayr jokingly. A few droplets of rain dotted his arm. “Earlier you wanted to turn a pumpkin into a cake.”

  “And why not? I suppose we could make a sauce with the apples or cut them up and eat them with cream.” She noticed the quizzical look on Tesnayr’s face. “Such a dish is considered a delicacy around here and it tastes better than it sounds.”

  “Why don’t we have strawberries and cream and you can turn the apples into a kind of sauce to go with your pumpkin cake,” suggested Tesnayr half joking.

  Virnae smiled. “Agreed.”

  “Virnae,” said someone breathlessly as he approached. “You father wishes to speak with you.”

  Virnae thanked the man for the message. “I will see you tonight. Remember, tonight is the night you must eat with my family.”

  They embraced each other and Tesnayr promised to be on time for the pre-wedding meal. He watched as Virnae walked down the street to where her father stood waiting. Happiness filled him as he admired her from a distance.

  An eerie stillness settled over the market. Tesnayr heard the familiar whooshing of an arrow as it shot past his ear missing him by inches. He dove to the ground instantly. Several people fell as arrows struck them in the chest. No one knew where they came from.

  Frantic, people ran in erratic paths as they dodged the onslaught. Tesnayr’s only thought was for Virnae. He quickly rose to his feet and ran for her. Her father had pinned her down on the ground taking an arrow in the back. Tesnayr fought his way through the chaos shoving people to the side. Arrows shot past him. Each one missed their mark.

  As he neared Virnae, dark figures appeared out of the mist with swords drawn. Desperately, Virnae pulled herself out from underneath her father’s limp body. She shook him but he did not move. Tesnayr shouted her name. Virnae stood up looking around for him unaware of the danger that approached from behind. One of the beasts drove its sword into her.

  “No!” yelled Tesnayr.

  It was too late. Tesnayr caught her as she fell to the ground. Her breaths came in quick gasps. There was nothing he could do except watch helplessly as she died. His name was the last word on her lips.

  Tesnayr tenderly held Virnae’s body as more rain fell and turned into a downpour. He forgot about the orcs and the commotion around him.

  Fearful screams filled the street as people attempted to flee. Swords found their mark with each deathblow. Feet ran frantically through the mud desperate to escape. Death filled the area. A man crashed into the mud beside Tesnayr, his vacant eyes staring at him. He remained detached and motionless with Virnae in his arms.

  One of the orcs shouted orders silencing the area, thus bringing Tesnayr back to the present. Arrows ceased their flight.

  “We do not wish you harm,” shouted the orc in charge. “Our master wishes only to use your land temporarily while we recover our strength. We will leave shortly. If you cooperate, no one will die.”

  The shouts died as people cowered in fear. Tesnayr noticed more of the beasts approaching. He committed their position to memory. “No harm,” said Tesnayr barely containing the anger that boiled within him. “Who is your master?”

  The orc in charge walked over to Tesnayr and leered over him. “Galbrok is our master, human.”

  “Galbrok,” Tesnayr whispered to himself. He knew the name. He knew it well. He tenderly laid Virnae’s body in the mud.

  Enraged, he seized the sword from the orc nearest him and plunged it into the beast. The remaining orcs turned toward him, but Tesnayr’s attack caught them off guard. He fought with a skill and ferocity that they were unaccustomed to countering. Never had they met a man who commanded a sword with ease and fought as viciously as them.

  The villagers watched horror struck as Tesnayr wielded his weapon as though it knew every move to make. He blocked and attacked with the ease of an experienced swordsman. In a matter of seconds the orcs lay dead on the blood soaked ground.

  The growl of a beast sounded behind him. “You fight well for a human,” said an orc.

  The orc charged from behind. Tesnayr dodged stepping lightly on his feet. He raised his sword high and sliced the orc’s arm. The creature howled in rage.

  It attacked again. Tesnayr brought his blade up to block. At the last second, the orc changed his maneuver and clipped Tesnayr in the shoulder. Ignoring the burning pain, Tesnayr jabbed the orc with his elbow. Quickly, he jammed his knee into the beast’s chest.

  Grunting, the orc staggered backward. Without an ounce of mercy, Tesnayr brought his sword down in one swift stroke and cut off the orc’s head. He watched emotionless as it rolled on the rain soaked ground.

  Tesnayr stood with his sword in his hand, its blade broken from the intensity of the battle. He observed the damage that he had inflicted. Tesnayr dropped the blade from his hand and fell to his knees sinking in the oozing mud. He covered his face with his calloused hands and wept in the pouring rain. His cries of anguish and loss fell on the ears of those present. They kept their feet planted not daring to move. Silently they wept with Tesnayr.

  The joy that had filled the day dissipated as grief settled in. The townsfolk spent the remainder of the day disposing of their dead. Tesnayr ordered the bodies of the orcs to be burned. None questioned him.

  The next morning funerals were held. Tesnayr placed yellow wildflowers in the hands of Virnae before she was lowered into the ground. After the dirt was thrown over her body, Tesnayr remained. He knelt on the ground by the graveside and sang a traditional lament from his homeland. The wind carried the sorrowful tune to the farthest reaches of the land. All the rest of the morning he never moved.

  It was not until Nigilin approached and placed a hand on his shoulder that he finally stirred. “A town meeting has been called,” he said, “Your presence is requested.”

  “Carry on without me,” replied Tesnayr.

  “I am not going anywhere without you,” said Nigilin, sternly.

  No response.

  “Remaining here will not bring her back,” said Nigilin.

  Still, Tesnayr refused to move.

  “I will carry you to that meeting,” Nigilin said with the hint of a threat in his voice.

  Tesnayr sighed and rose to his feet. “Are you always this forceful?”

  “When necessary.”

  The two walked in silence as they headed for the meeting. It was clear that it had started without them by the time they arrived.

  “We should leave and head for the hills,” shouted one angry man. Tesnayr and Nigilin heard his voice through the door as they entered.

  “Go ahead and leave you coward,” cried another. “I say we stay here and fight if they come again.”

  “Are you mad? They will kill us! You saw how they cut us down.”

  “They’ll kill us if we do nothing!”

  “And what are we to do? We’ve no army.”

  “Enough,” shouted Derik. The room fell silent. “Those who wish to fight these beasts say ‘Aye’”.

  No one raised their hands.

  Tesnayr could stand no more of this nonsense. “In order to fight your enemy you must understand him. You need to know how he thinks, how he acts. You fools would be killed before you ever reached the battlefield.”

  “And you know these beasts?” asked Derik.

  “I know them,” answered Tesnayr in a grim tone. “They are orcs: vicious, vile, violent, cruel, and fierce. They are not easily defeated. Orcs kill without conviction. They enjoy it.”

  “It is curious how you, Tesnayr, know so much about these creatures,” said a man.

  “Do not forget how he killed them yesterday. I have never seen anyone fight like that,” said another.

  “Where did you learn to fight like that, son,” said an elderly man.

  “That is not important,” said Nigilin.

  “No, Nigilin. They have a right to know,” said Tesnayr. “My homeland lies across the sea. Several
years ago the orcs invaded it bent on conquest. I joined the ranks of men who chose to fight them. I spent five years at war with these beasts and have seen things the likes of which you will never know.

  “Despite our efforts, my home was destroyed. There is nothing left of it but charred remains. But why they have come here I do not know,” Tesnayr finished more to himself. “Perhaps all they do is conquer and destroy and once they are through they move on like locusts.”

  The assembly listened intently to Tesnayr’s words. Stillness followed for several minutes before chaos broke out. “You brought them here,” shouted one.

  “That is foolishness,” retorted Nigilin.

  “How do you explain their coming here?” asked another.

  “Does it matter why they came? What matters is what we do now,” shouted a third.

  “What do we do now? You saw how they defeated us. Perhaps we should give in to their demands.”

  “Let them rule us? That is foolishness. They will kill us.”

  “They will kill us if we fight.”

  “We cannot just sit here and do nothing.”

  “And what do you suggest?”

  The shouting match continued. Tesnayr and Nigilin glanced at each other and shook their heads. Frustrated, Tesnayr stepped outside and grabbed a fist sized rock. He returned to the room and banged the rock on the table. In seconds the room fell silent.

  “I know the orcs,” he began, “They will stop at nothing until they have complete control over this land. And then they will move on to the next, and the next, until nothing is left. I suggest that you send messengers to your king. Tell him about the orcs and where they are.”

  “And who will carry the message?” asked Derik.

  “I will go,” replied Nigilin.

  “You may have fought in the great war of ten years ago, but you are not a soldier anymore, Nigilin,” said Derik.

  “Since none of you are capable of making a decision I will take the message to the king,” said Nigilin. “With luck, I will reach him in time. As a former member of his army, he will have to see me.”

  “I will join you,” Tesnayr said.

  “Very well,” said Derik, “You two will carry the message to the king about these orcs. Then you will return here.”

  “I will not be coming back,” said Tesnayr. “There is nothing for me here.”

  “As you wish,” said Derik. “I wish you luck.”

  Tesnayr and Nigilin left the crowded room. They agreed to leave in the morning and spent the night packing. Before they turned in for the night Nigilin asked, “Tesnayr, where will you go?”

  “Hunt some orcs.”