javery's journal

Chapter 1

The sweet, fresh scent of newly cut pine consumed the young man’s senses. He drew in a deep breath, letting the aroma cool the anger boiling in his veins. He picked up his axe once more and let loose another hard blow into base of the pine tree.

How dare he! He thought, furiously flicking his dark, sweat soaked fringe from his eyes, leaving a grubby trail of dirt across his forehead. The dirty forehead only helped add to the youth’s generally disheveled appearance. His clothes were old, dirty and very much in need of repair, his boots were worn but still sturdy and his mass of dark hair flopped untidily about his face. But appearance was hardly something the young man cared about much less at a time like this.

He lifted his axe ready to strike the tree once more when a slight disturbance in the undergrowth nearby caught his attention. He spun about warily, a challenging look in his eye, the axe held defensively by his shoulder.

“Who’s there?” he demanded.

There was an amused snort from the undergrowth as a handsome youth emerged from the bushes. Unlike the dark haired woodcutter this young man was fair haired, however this was one of the few physical differences between them. The facial resemblance between the two was undeniable. They both shared the same fine bone structure with the same strong set jaw, pointed nose, high cheekbones but perhaps the most admired feature they shared was the same set of sharp blue eyes. While the dark haired boy was more rugged and unkempt in appearance the fair haired boy clearly took a good deal more care in how he looked, his hair neatly trimmed and his clothing and skin recently washed and groomed.

“Keep your skin on Lavaché. It’s only me!” Said the fair haired boy.

The boys’ eyes met. Lavaché looked less than pleased to see the fair haired youth.

“A warning might be nice next time if you don’t want me to hack your pretty head off.” Snapped Lavaché irritably.

“I did give you a warning!” declared the other with a sly grin. “I stepped on a twig for you!”

Lavaché rolled his eyes in annoyance, lifting his axe ready to strike the tree once more. The fair haired boy sat down on a nearby trunk, his look of amusement dissolving into a slightly guarded look of concern.

“What do you want Elidore?” demanded Lavaché as he dealt the tree another hard blow. “You here to tell me I’m wrong and that I should apologise? A little unlike you.”

“Well I would think this is a little unlike you too!” retorted Elidore. “Firing off at father the way you did and then storming off into the woods like a spoilt child. That’s something I’d do, not something level headed, sensible Lavaché would do.”

“I hardly think you should be lecturing me on the way I acted to father,” Lavaché said giving Elidore a deathly glare.

He gave one last, anger driven hack into the pine tree. It creaked loudly as it toppled over to one side and fell to the forest floor with a loud crash making a nearby flock of birds disappear in fright with a rush of beating wings. Lavaché sat down on his newly created stump and dropped the axe by his feet. Now that the tree was felled and all his bitterness had faded rational thought returned. A new wave of guilt overcame him.

“I stuffed up, didn’t I?” He muttered.

“Yes, brother, you did!” said Elidore bluntly.

Lavaché smiled grimly.

“Well put it this way Vach,” Elidore said. “We’ve all got to make a mistake eventually. Me, I make them hourly. I suppose it was about time for you to make yours.”

“I make mistakes.” Said Lavaché bitterly.

“Sure you do,” said Elidore sarcastically.

The two of them fell into silence. Elidore’s eyes fell to the axe at his brother’s feet.

“Why do you always cut pine trees? You know they don’t burn well.” He complained.

“I like the smell,” confessed Lavaché.

Elidore grinned, raising an eyebrow mockingly.

“You like the smell?” he repeated cynically.

Lavaché glanced up his brother, giving him a mysterious smile as he drew something from his pocket. He held it gently in his hand for a moment, smiling fondly at it before tossing it to Elidore. Elidore stared at it for a moment, even more confused than before. It was a little wooden carving of an otter. He gave Lavaché a quizzical look.

“Pine is good for making these too. It’s easy to find in these woods and easy to carve.” He said quietly, a mild tone of self consciousness in his voice.

Elidore shook his head with a smile tossing the little object back to Lavaché.

“You certainly are an individual.” He said standing. “So are you going to apologise to dad?”

Lavaché met his brothers eyes and seeing the irony in them gave a small laugh. He sighed.

“I guess I’ll have to won’t I?” he replied with only the slightest hint of bitterness.

“Well, on other news, I participated in the hunt today!” Elidore said enthusiastically.

“By participate, you mean watch don’t you?”

Elidore gave Lavaché a mock offended smile and shoved him playfully.

“Actually I was the one who found the bore today.”

Lavaché raised his brows, clearly impressed.

“Well done!” He exclaimed. “You didn’t catch it though did you?”

Elidore gave him a patronizing glare, then dropped his head slightly.

“No,” he said disappointedly.

Lavaché clapped his shoulder encouragingly.

“You will one day brother,” he said as they disappeared into the shadow of the undergrowth.

***

The boys emerged from the forest into a cluttered clearing deep in the forests core. Unhorsed caravans and carts lined the area. A group of horses were tied up to one side of the caravans. Hastily erected canvas tents of varying sizes and states of wear filled the majority of the clearing. The charred remains of a campfire lay in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by a circle of logs and handmade stools. A large group of men occupied this area although some of the men were tending to the caravans, horses and tents. One man was even preparing a large amount of food by a makeshift cook pot.

Lavaché glanced about, nervously, scanning the crowd of men for his father. He frowned, catching no sight of him strode off, his eyes fixed determinedly on a nearby caravan. He threw open the door to the caravan. Standing inside, scrawling hastily on some manuscripts was his father, a tall, brooding fellow with a characteristic scar that ran down the length of one side of his face. The man looked up from his manuscripts. His expression fell at the sight of his son. Lavaché shifted awkwardly.

“Lavaché,” said the man stiffly.

“Father,” replied Lavaché, equally stiffly.

They stared at each other for a moment. Then Lavaché dropped his gaze uncomfortably.

“I…I…”began Lavaché but was sharply interrupted by the entrance of a third man into the caravan.

The man who entered was dressed in travel garb, a hood cloaked his face. Lavaché knew however the hood was for more than just travel purposes, this man never went out in public without the hood concealing his appearance.

One side of his face was severely disfigured, which rumour had it he’d received as a youth when trying to rescue a girl from trapped in a burning house. Nobody knew the exact details of how or what happened but it was said that he had nearly died in the attempt and the burns he’d received had his entire left side of his body was deformed.

The hooded man was puffing hard with exertion, he looked near to collapse. He clutched some crumpled manuscript in his right hand. Lavaché’s father leapt forward to steady the man.

“Dorsard,” greeted the hooded man between puffs.

Dorsard turned to Lavaché, a slight look of regret in his eyes.

“Sorry Lavaché but this is urgent,” he said to his son.

Lavaché frowned slightly, curiosity eating away at his gut. He nodded reluctantly and slipped out of the cabin. He caught Elidore’s eye and signaled him over to him. Within seconds his brother was at his side.

“Well?" Elidore asked.

“Verdorn’s here,” whispered Lavaché.

Elidore’s eyes widened with surprise and intrigue, making no protest as his brother took hold of his arm and lead him around to the other side of their father’s caravan and indicated for him to be absolutely silent. Elidore nodded, a look of mischievous excitement flushing across his handsome face.

The boys listened carefully. They could vaguely make out the sounds of hushed whispers inside but disappointingly they couldn’t discern what it was that was being said. Then suddenly the conversation stopped, there was a scrape of a boot as one of the men in the caravan began hurriedly moving about the vehicle and by what they could tell was gathering things up. Lavaché and Elidore shared a concerned glance.

“Where do you think he’s going this time?” whispered Elidore.

Lavaché gave his brother a silencing glare. Elidore raised his eyebrows with attitude and pressed his ear to the caravan once more.

“You can’t just leave, Dorsard! They suspect that you’re involved!” cried Verdorn in an animated whisper. “At least wait until Sunday when Etolias gets back and we can send him instead! They don’t suspect him!”

“Three days is too long!” Dorsard cried. “If I don’t leave now I may be too late!”

“Keep your voice down!” snapped Verdorn. “If you must go today, let me go with you!”

“No,” he said calmly. “I need you to…”

His voice softened suddenly and the boys were unable to make out what their father was saying. Elidore nearly growled in frustration. They heard the scrape of a boot near the door indicating they should move lest be seen eavesdropping. The scurried away to the campfire barely moments before Dorsard emerged from the caravan, a travel pack and cloak in hand. The boys exchanged worried glances.

“Quick, let’s go!” hissed Elidore and the two of them briskly followed their father’s footsteps. But they were stopped by a firm hand from Verdorn.

“Stop,” he hissed. “Do not follow him!”

Elidore gave him a loathing glare.

“Where’s he going?” he demanded.

“He’s going away for a few days. He’ll be back at the end of the week.”

“Why?”

“What your father does is his own business. It does not involve you.”

“It does if he gets killed!” cried Elidore.

Lavaché placed a warning hand on Elidore’s arm. Verdorn’s eyes burned with fury, equally returned by Elidore.

“Enough, Elidore,” Lavaché said deliberatly. “Verdorn said he’ll be back at the end of the week!”

He articulated the last sentence very deliberately. Elidore caught his meaning instantly and dropped his gaze to the ground. He strode away from both of them defiantly. Verdorn was about to walk away in the opposite direction when Lavaché stayed him with one hand.

“If father is doing something dangerous you would tell us wouldn’t you?” Lavaché asked tentatively.

Verdorn frowned at the youth.

“Of course.” He said and turned away.

Lavaché knew he was lying, he watched him closely as he disappeared into a nearby tent. Lavaché sighed and looked around for Elidore. He spotted him sitting on a stool by the fire, a furious expression on his face. He glared at Lavaché angrily. He was well aware more than one set of eyes were watching them.

“Why did you listen to him? We could have followed dad!”

“Elidore, listen to me!” Lavaché whispered, hushedly, his eyes shifting to the men nearby who’s gazes were a little too keen. “Wherever father is going, whatever he is doing he hasn’t filled us in on it for a reason. We may end up ruining whatever it is he’s doing by following him, we may even put him in more danger!”

Elidore’s bitterness seemed to subside at his brothers words.

“Father isn’t a fool brother,” he continued. “He knows how to take care of himself. He’ll be fine.”

Elidore sighed. “Promise me if he’s not back by the end of the week we’ll do something.”

“Agreed,” Lavaché said with a grim smile.

Lavaché stared off in the direction his father had gone, a sinking feeling of doubt in his gut. If he hadn’t been so consumed by his burning feeling of guilt and concern for his father he might have noticed that two of the men nearby, one old and one young shared a glance only to disappear half an hour later, heading toward the same path Dorsard had taken, travel packs in hand.

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Welcome to my live journal where you can see some stuff of mine...I might post first few chapters of my novel...some graphics I've done...who knows...this is quite experimental as I've never used this before!