The Blades We Held

The stranger's grisly features could sparsely be made out in the light of a sparking whetstone. He had one hand clenching the head of a large sized axe, and the other on it’s shaft, moving the tool with the precision of an expert craftsman.

Father was not far, arms crossed and tapping his foot against the wood floor while awaiting completion of the chore.

“Come on, come on then… I’ve had about enough of this. Finish sharpening already and get out, you know what I risk.”

The stranger paused his action, and let the spinning whetstone come to a halt. “I know well what you risk, brother.” He lifted the axe and looked past my father at me with serious eyes. I stood with my head halfway peeped into the doorway. Father caught the stranger's glance, and waved in frustration when he spotted me.

“Tobias, away now, son. I told you to stay in the house, I won’t ask again!”

“Yes, father!” I fled his wrath without another word, pretending to head in the direction of the house, but then dipping behind rosebushes adjacent to the shop. Like a cat stalking a mouse, I lean down to all fours and work my way back around to a window on the other side. With the cover of night, I poke half my head up to peer into the unlit room and listen.

The stranger stood, and under his hulking figure the wood let out a creak. “You could join us, Matthias. Together-”

“Enough, Elias. You and yours were squashed, there is naught more to be done. I’ve had to spend every waking hour of my days fulfilling Imperian orders now. I’ve barely begun to build a stable life again. You would ask me to throw my kin’s life away.”

Elias slid his axe through the loop of a large holster, then slung the whole thing over his shoulder by a strap to let it hang from the back. 

“He’s nearly of age. Besides, I too am your kin, brother. What of what we have lost? Is this old Matthias now, just a driveling dog for the Imperian rule? Where went your sense, brother? What of Alice?”

Even in low light, I could make out father’s unmistakable fury. With a face so furrowed that it seemed his teeth were crunching, he spoke between hot breaths.

“Do not speak her name to me. Tobias and I have suffered enough. Take your damned axe, your damned food and your damned rebellion away. Get the hell out of my shop!”

Elias's face curled in. He donned a leather hood with both hands, which hid his expression, and now uncle was a “stranger” once more. As he stepped past father, he made sure to smack shoulders. Father tumbled, then spun to let out one final shout. 

“Do not come back.” His armed flicked through the air. “I mean it!”

Uncle disappeared into the surrounding forest, and I snuck my way from the wood shop back to the house. Father didn’t speak another word that night.

***

I munched hard against several day old bread, which did still taste good, even without berrycream. Dawn broke through the beautiful rose shaped windows of the house, one of the many testaments to father’s carpentry skill; mother had always loved the shape, so much so that he had made the engraving of the red flower his trademark.

“Do you want to talk about it, father?” I let my bread down to a wooden plate. “Last night? I overheard…”

He waved his hand across the mahogany dining table, then lazily let it drop to the wood with a defeated thud, his other hand was spinning circles on the smooth surface. “Nothing to talk about, Tobias. Finish up and get ready for today’s work.” 

“That was uncle, wasn’t it?” I insisted. I barely remembered uncle Elias from when I was small, before the city walls had fallen and been rebuilt with Imperian banners.

“You know it was.” He exhaled a sigh which didn’t hide a single ounce of discontent. “I won’t tolerate any more of his midnight greetings for bread and tools. He’ll bring misfortune to us again.” Father’s hands met his head, gently touching the receding black hair. He began to rub his temple for a moment. “We’ll speak of your uncle no more. He’s a dangerous man to bring up, you needn’t know more.” Father unlatched his hatchet and spun the handle side to face me. “Get a start on the lumber outside, and don’t forget your cloak. The city seers say this winter is going to be a cold one.”

“Yes father.”

I’d dare not push his temper, father could be just as explosive as he might be wise. Grabbing the hatchet and taking one more huge bite out of the bread, I made my way outside to our log reserves. This was not the refined wood my father normally completed work with, but instead old logs of many sizes, waiting to be split and burned for winter. 

It wasn’t glorious work, but father couldn’t be bothered to deal with the mundane tasks around the shop. That was up to me.   

The sharp edge of the hatchet came down with singular ease, splitting the log into two clean halves. Gathering the pieces, I prepare to repeat this once more with each half. I’d always admired the craftsmanship of the tool, father didn’t even let the handle of his work be without flowery engravings. I didn’t feel shame about my own carvings, but I couldn’t help but daydream. If only father could take more time for my apprenticing. Why did he always have to be so damn busy?

The next swing came down, felling the half log in the same manner as before. The force sent one piece flying to the side, landing directly at the feet of four armored men. The sudden realization of unexpected company brought a shock to my attention, and I flinched back.

“Who are you?” I declare, leaning backward with less than courageous posture.

The men wore a mix of sharp and rugged looks. Each held spears with jagged edges. They were dressed in well-kept leathers, over which draped the dark burgundy colors of Imperian symbology. 

“Where are your manners, boy?” barked the biggest one. “Don’t you know an Imperian when you see one?” These were city enforcers, the kind who managed the jails. I had seen their like on a few rare trips to the stony city of Mossfall. They were rarely considered real guards, due to their less than favorable reputation. More like over-armed tyrants for the nobles. It was then that I noticed the clanging shackles on their belts. 

Wide-eyed, I could feel my heart beginning to pound.

“Relax there, wood-boy.” Sneered another. “We’ve just come for a talk about some fellows we’ve heard ‘ho like to come-and-go here.” His smile was more fake than a counterfeit coin, betraying their lies. 

The front door of the house slammed open with a shattering force. “Tobias!” Yelled father from the front door. “Run, son! The forest, now go!” 

All I could think about was staying to help father, but on the contrary, all my body could do was run. The fear was damning.

The men were already charging with their spears and shackles. Nearly tripping over one of the split logs, I raced as fast as I could into the surrounding woods. Past the rosebushes and around the shop. A glance backwards revealed the fanged tip of a spear, which was slowly gaining. The soldier seemed to be enjoying the chase. 

Step after step I broke ground, but the trees were thin and spread surrounding where I lived, making it hard to break any line of sight or make any real gains over the pursuer. The terrain was not particularly treacherous until deeper off the property, but this did me no favor now. 

Father's hatchet was clenched in a death grip while I ran. Should I turn and fight? I was almost sure I would die if I did. The son of a carpenter was no soldier, and I knew.

The chase went on for several minutes, “come on now, fight me wood-boy!” taunted the insidious man. We went deeper and deeper into the woods, until my footing finally gave way to muddy earth at the edge of a creek. I slipped straight into the shallow water, and the spear was already a breath away from my chest by the time I looked up. He slowly dug in until just the tip drew blood. 

I was too afraid to do a thing. I damned myself for not trying to move. No more woodwork, no more father, and no revenge for mother. The grinning soldier let out a wicked cackle as he brought the spear back in an exaggerated motion. I closed my eyes… 

But the stab never came. I opened them again. There stood a puzzled solider, jerking their spear, which remained mostly still. The grizzly arm of uncle Elias was holding the back of the weapon, preventing its intended path. With the other arm, his massive axe came down on the soldier with a single crushing chop - straight through the armor. His previous laughter fell to silence in a brutal instant.

Elias let out a swear while he removed his blade from the collapsing man. “Tobias, are you all right? What’s happened, boy?” he demanded.

I was a mix of creek water and tears. “Uncle Elias, they’ve come, Imperians! They came for me and father - I think… I think they were looking for you.”

Elias face became slack with regret, and he quietly swore again. He paced briefly before regaining himself.

“We can’t stay here. Quickly now, Tobias. We leave.” His voice was a mix of cool and coarse.

“But father!” I finally found strength, and stood to my feet in protest, soaked.

“They have him, Tobias. There isn’t anything we can do right now.”

“I’ll go back!” I pleaded. “I can-”

Elias hand whipped across my face with a cracking slap, and as I recoiled he gently caught me by the shoulders. His eyes were silky, and an expression more serious than ever met my own.

He spoke slowly. “They have him. You are going to come with me, boy. I have friends… people who can help. But there is nothing we can do for your father right now. Do you understand?”

I barely nodded. He helped stand me straight, and heartily patted me with a half smile.

Elias paced to the body and his hands quickly moved about. Blood was now mixing into the creek water. He retrieved a long sheathed dagger from the soldier's belt, and then handed it to me. “Keep this, and follow.”

The shock was deep, but the strike Elias delivered a moment ago had been deeper. I felt the cheek pain, and walked. In mere seconds, the loss of everything began to settle in, yet now was no moment to mourn. All I could do was follow uncle through morning, afternoon, and even into dark as we walked, and then walked farther.

I strode forward like a lost animal unto uncertainty, praying that uncle had something planned. Anything. I had to get father back.