Hope Chest Read online

  Ash raced forward. She was hurt and moved more slowly. He dodged a few swipes from her claws and then replaced the sword back into the bloodied cavity in her chest, driving it in up to the hilt. She collapsed to a crouch, no longer able to stand tall under the pain of the sword lodged in her chest. He then drove it upward and pulled it toward him, like a man pulling up a fishing line. The wound began to grow upward as he cleaved her open. He struck her heart or at least severed an artery. His hands were marked by the deed, as the dragon’s blood rushed forth like water from a broken damn. It was finished; she would terrorize his people no longer. She crashed to the ground. The heart - Marric needs the heart for that protection spell. Ash clenched his jaw as he continued his work of opening the chest of this once fine and majestic beast. By the time he had found and retrieved the heart, the sun was beginning to set. The horizon was awash with deep oranges and reds.

  He looked at himself in the pool beside the fallen dragon. His long blond hair was stained red with her blood. His face and hands were as well. He was filled with a sense of pride for accomplishing a task of such difficulty. No one in a hundred years had slain a dragon in these or any of the surrounding lands. But, his heart felt low in his chest. He thought about the girl he had met while on the road. How they had talked like old friends but had only just met. He thought about how her smile looked by the light of the fire. He smiled.

  The heart thumped softly in his hand. His face grew hard, “Selene has the jar. I must hurry,” he said thinking aloud.

  Ash heard the rustling of leaves. He felt a gentle breeze blowing from the east. He turned to look for its source, spinning in a circle, blood swooshing about the grass as he searched. “Well aren’t you a bloody Fool,” said a voice from behind. He jerked his head and body to his rear “Who…?”

  The wind blew again, “there was another way” said the same mysterious and breezy voice. Am I hearing things?

  Ash’s head jutted from side to side “I.. I don’t understand…” he replied to the mysterious voice.

  The branch above Ash shook. “Up, up, they never look up. Of course, you don’t Mr. You’re a bloody fool…”

  The boy leapt from the branch, landing just below it in a swirl of green and lively leaves. He danced about the swirling leaves until they settled or until he settled them, Ash couldn’t really be sure which. “Did you just call me a bloody fool, boy?” Ash asked with a raised eyebrow and squinted eye.

  “Aye, indeed I did. You are covered in blood, and you know not what you’ve done. You Sir… my good sir, are indeed the bloodiestfool I’ve ever seen… and I’ve seen my share.” The boy allowed his words to hang upon the air as he stood there, his arms folded. Ash stared at him for a moment in disbelief. No one had ever spoken to him like that before. The boy’s eyes caught his attention, they were green like the forest, and looked just as old. Yet, the boy’s smile and countenance were as sly as the red foxes that inhabited the woods of his family’s kingdom.

  “I will have you know boy, that I am no fool. I am the son of Alric, King of these lands. I am Ash, Son of Alric, protector of my people, heir to the throne…”

  The boy covered his mouth, his eyes rolling towards the sky. “Covered in blood you are. You stand here, a mother’s heart in your hand, boasting of your station, and you still believe you are no fool?”

  Ash looked to the heart he held in his gloved hand. Blood dripping. A mother? His cheeks flushed. “A mother?”

  The boy began to walk about the area “Aye, did ja not think about why the bloody beast was swoopin’ down and eaten ya cattle and sheep, when there hadn’t been a sighting of a dragon in these parts in at least forty seasons?”

  “I never thought to…” Ash began.

  “Think! Ya bloody fool,” the boy interrupted. You never thought to think for yourself,” the boy finished.

  Blood dripped more rapidly from his hand as he clenched his fists. “Come now, let you put away that heart ya be squeezing in ya hand before ya lose such a dear prize to pride. Do ye have something to put it in?” Ash continued toward Selene, to her saddle bags and pulled out from the largest of the bags an earthen gourd-like container. It had alternating panels of translucent cardinal red glass and deep highly glazed mud-like brown.

  “Here.” Ash held up the container. “According to Marric, this container was made for just such a thing, It’s enchanted. It will keep the heart from drying out.”

  “You certainly put a lot of stock in this Marric, Ash.”

  Ash drummed his fingers on the container’s lid. It glinted cardinal beams of light as it moved atop Selene’s back. “Aye, I do. He’s a Cleric of The Order. He knows such things. It’s his job to know such things as is mine to protect my people.” His thoughts momentarily turned to his father.

  The boy moved toward Ash. “Might I see this enchanted container of yours?” the boy asked. “I know I look like just a boy, but I assure you that I am wise well beyond my appearance.”

  Ash thought about the boy’s request and decide against it. He wasn’t entirely certain if he could trust this strangely old, yet spritely boy. “No. You cannot.”

  The boy furrowed his eyebrows and pressed his lips together, his smile faded away. “Aye, if that is your choice, so be it,” replied the boy.

  He snapped his fingers and in an instant the container was in the palm of his left hand. It looked as if he was a peddler presenting his more prized ware. He held it up to the sky, allowing the sunlight to pass through it as he inspected it. He spun it in his hand. He examined the bottom. He lifted the lid and looked inside. He flicked it. He knocked on it. “Enchanted it be, but there are things that you fail to see. There is weakness in the bonds.”

  Ash shook his head. “What? Boy, give me back the container. I’ve had enough of your games. My patience only extends but so far. Magic or no, you’ve insulted me and now you’ve stolen from me. I’ve half a mind to…” Ash gritted his teeth, biting off the end of his sentence.

  “Okay, okay…I’ll behave. Here is your container back. It was wrong of me to take it from you.” Said the boy as he tossed the container to Ash, “I see that now. I do, at times, forget myself.”

  Ash scrambled around Selene to catch the container as it soared through the air. He somehow made under the airborne vessel just in time. The boy sneezed, and it pulled Ash’s attention for an instant. He felt a gust of wind across his face as the container grazed his fingers before meeting the hard dirt below. It shattered into pieces.

  “Dammit!” The heart remained safe, held tightly to his chest. “You Loki loving, mischievous, little god-forsaken brat. I’m going to kill you. I’m going to shove my sword so far up your arse the blade will come outta your mouth,” Ash said, his eyes burning with contempt.

  He had an important matter to attend to. He now had to stop to entertain this child. A stop that had not only cost him valuable time, but the vessel that would keep the heart safe until it could be delivered to Marric. Ash leapt toward the boy. He wasn’t far away and so closing the distance was easy for him even in his exhausted state. He wrapped his left hand around the boy’s throat, thrusting him upward into the air.

  His azure and gray gauntlet less brilliant in the fading light. The rest of his armor was awash with the blood of the dragon and in that instant, he looked like a demon about to devour the small child that was writhing in the air above him while he held tightly to the heart, dripping yet more blood from his right hand.

  “I…” The boy coughed “I. See. That.”

  A gentle easterly breeze blew across the back of his sweaty neck. His left hand closed around nothing but air.

  “I’ve angered you, young prince. That was not my intention,” said the boy who was now behind Ash rubbing his throat. Ash turned in astonishment to see the boy behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief. “We should start over. I can see that you’ve got some fire in you. That’s good. You’ll need that. I am Euan of the forest. I’m sorry about the container. That truly was not my intent
ion. I can offer you another if you’ll let me.”

  Ash’s anger began to cool. “I don’t really have a choice. I can’t bloody well carry this heart in my hand all the way back to the castle. You just so happen to have an enchanted container in, where? I don’t see any pockets, nor are you wearing a pack. Unless you live close to here.”

  Euan smiled and interjected, “Aye, I live close to here I do. I live everywhere that I wish within the woodlands. That is not foolish of you to ask, Ash. But, you’ve seen me pull the container from your hand and into mine.” He motioned into the air as if to pluck a petal from a flower and suddenly, between his fingers was a gold coin, which he then rolled across the tops of his fingers and flicked to Ash. “Surely, you don’t think I am limited to the banality of bags.” Euan stood there pensively for a moment before twisting his right hand in the air as if he were feeling the underside of a sphere and, as he opened his up-turned palm, a wooden chest appeared.

  Ash eyed Euan and the box in his hand skeptically. The box was about two fists wide and three high with a rounded top case. It had no catch or place for a lock and so Ash wondered how it would remain sealed. The wood was beautiful. It was knotty, but whomever crafted this box knew how to work with those knots because they only added to its beauty. There were trees, runes, and what Ash thought must have been fairies or elves etched across the face of the box. The entire chest was lacquered dark and shone with deep rich tones.

  “How will that chest keep the heart from drying out and dying before I reach the castle?” Ash asked. “I see no way to seal that box. What will keep it from opening and spilling its contents upon the ground?” Ash asked, still not happy with the recent turn of events.

  “Aye, ’tis made of me mother, the finest of Yew. It ’twas made of all her hopes and it will guard the same for you. ’Tis made of a mother, her hopes for a daughter that she never bore, and so it was passed down to a son she never intended. Ash, I will not lie and say that I never lie, but in this I tell you true. Place the heart within this and Hope will keep it safe until love will birth it anew.”

  Ash opened the chest. It felt sturdy. He placed the heart within. He paused before closing the lid. “How will this remain sealed without a lock Euan?” asked Ash.

  “On your closure of the chest, it will seal itself, until love will birth its contents anew. When you’re ready, close it and think on the box for a moment. You will know when it is done.”

  Ash closed the lip and left his hand upon its top. He closed his eyes. He thought on the box; it’s beautiful dark lacquered finish reminded him of the dark mahogany toned hair of the woman he met last night. The shine of the box in the fading sunlight drew his attention. The last hues of blue dancing with oranges and reds in the dusky sky, reminded him of her sapphire-colored eyes in the firelight. A flurry of images flashed in his mind of the night they spent together, the preceding morning before they parted, and he readied himself to battle the dragon. A warm white light ran the circumference of the chest ending in a brilliant flash. Ash opened his eyes to see that the hope chest was sealed all the way around. Not even a blade of grass could find a home to slide into. He tried to open the chest. It would not budge.

  CHAPTER 6

  Marric gripped her jaw tightly, moving her head from side to side, examining her. “She is beautiful. I’ll give him that. But, there are no shortage of beautiful women in our land. Larutte, has the most beautiful women in all the land. To believe that one this beautiful could come from Hylaen is, well, it boggles the mind.”

  There was a dozen or more soldiers interspersed between Ash, Marric, the hope chest, and the girl; the remainder were forming a perimeter around the camp and scouting the area. The area around the castle of Larutte was thick with ancient trees. Marric knew this would provide cover for his troops, but it also meant they could unknowingly be seen by one of King Alric’s sentries unless they were vigilant in setting up the proper defenses.

  The two men closest to Marric heard his remarks about the girl, their princess. They snarled and clenched their fists. He caught their reaction out of the corner of his eye. He pulled her hair; her eyes jolted open; they were no longer an intense blue. The red fire and the blue were transformed into a violet color which appeared to flicker with her internal rage.

  “There it is!” Marric exclaimed, pulling even harder. “There’s a fire in you. That, you see, you cannot find in any of the women of Larutte. nor in its King, for that matter.” He released her hair. “Princess Farrah, your father tells me you ran away some five or six months ago. It’s a good thing we found you and not any of King Alric’s men. The gods know how poorly they would treat the daughter of the Crazed King Caelen. And, to add fuel to the fire, you were masquerading as an Emerald Sister no less - a capital crime, indeed, my poor princess.” Marric said.

  “Tell me where Euan is. Ash clearly cannot. But, you can. Where is the boy Euan? How did he seal the box?” Marric asked. Farrah nodded gently, motioning with her head for him to come closer. Marric eagerly moved closer. “Where is he?” he asked again, softly. She pursed her lips; her mouth was dry and it was hard to speak. She swallowed dryly. Marric motioned to the closest soldier, “bring water,” he commanded.

  “Aye, sir,” the solider replied before quickly running to get a ladle full of water from the bucket near the tent. The soldier eagerly handed Marric the ladle. “The water, sir”.

  “Here, drink this,” Marric said as he moved the ladle to her dry lips. Farrah sipped the water. It was cool and refreshing, like a much-needed rain after a summer dry spell. “He’s…” Farrah began softly, but her voice seemed to fail her.

  Marric leaned in closer. She raised her head quickly, forcefully, smashing it into Marric’s face, and as her head hit its target, she spat in his eyes. Farrah laughed as he fell to his knees from the unexpected blow. He wiped her spit from his eyes, rubbed his face, and glared at her like an eagle who had spotted its prey.

  “I’ll not tell you where the boy is. He’ll find you when he’s ready. Just as he found me; as he found Ash,” Farrah said leaning towards her captor.

  Marric rose up wildly. He gripped her at the throat with his right hand. His left hand glowed with a small flame, “You forget who I am princess… What I can do…” said Marric.

  Farrah shifted her face as far away from the flame as she could with his hand around her throat. “I’m not quite sure who you are. We’ve only just met. Marric, is it?” Farrah asked feigning sincerity. He squeezed harder. Her mouth opened without sound. Marric rolled the fingers of his left hand, extinguishing the flame, then he slapped her across the face with such intensity that she would have hit the ground had she not been tied to the post. She was pulled up by the rope and as she opened her eyes she saw Ash. He was tied with his hands behind his back to another post just to her left - nearly out of sight. His left leg was badly bloodied. His head hung low. She could see one eye was purple and the bridge of his nose was split. He wasn’t moving. Her eyes began to well up with tears, but not for her own pain. She had received far worse from her father in the months after her mother died. No, these tears were for him; they were for Ash.

  CHAPTER 7

  He looked so helpless now, she thought. He looked defeated. When they had first met she had robbed him on the road where two rivers meet and twin oaks cross. She had no idea if anyone actually referred to it like that, but she did, because the torrent created by the two merging rivers repeatedly pulled her under. She thought she was going to die in that river.

  She had run after robbing Ash. She held him up by arrow point. “Give me your gold and neither you nor your horse get shot by an arrow today,” Farrah remembered saying to him as she refocused the arrow every few second between Ash and Selene. Keep him guessing, she thought. If he doesn’t care about himself, he must care for this beautiful horse; and if not for the horse, then he must value his life more highly than a purse of gold. She thought herself so very clever in that moment. Ash smiled that big smile of his. It was a
smile that she thought was quite smug in that moment, but one that she would come to adore.

  She wished he were smiling now, instead of being ties to that post and beaten. She remembered him tossing her the purse of gold he had tied to Selene’s saddle. “Here,” he said. “I’ve no need for this where I’m going and one who would threaten not only a man, but his beast is surely in greater need of it than I,” as he stroked Selene’s mane. As she caught the purse their eyes met, and in that moment the full weight of his words fell upon her ears; she simultaneously felt a warmth rise within her chest and a chill run down her spine. She eyed his armor tied and secured to Selene’s haunches, but knew that she could never carry it, even though it looked as if it would fetch more than enough gold to gain passage on a ship to sail away.

  Their eyes met once again. He smiled. She smiled. Then she ran. She ran through the trees, weaving her way in a zig-zag fashion. She didn’t want him to follow her; she really wanted him to follow her. She was scared that he would - scared that she would see that smile again - scared that she would feel that way again. She wanted to go back and return the gold, maybe then, the queasiness in the pit of her stomach would recede. But, she needed the gold. She needed more much more gold than this, but this would be a good start, she thought. She knew if she cleared the river she would be clear of this, and then she could forget that she ever saw him. She picked up speed as she ran towards the edge of the river, pressing into the earth, she launched herself into the air, but the angle of the ground made the other side look much closer than it really was. She fell into the river with a sharp scream. The river flowed fast as it merged with another becoming a violent torrent of white-capped rapids crashing into each other. She tried to grab onto something, but each grip only served as a momentary breath of life- saving air; nothing more. She cracked her head against a rock somewhere in the river bed. Her vision became speckled with white spots, the water turning her over and over, again and again. She saw two oak trees just overhead - one straight and strong, the other gnarled, twisted, and bisecting the other. She had seen a man wearing something like that around his neck. A cross he called it. In honor of his god, who died upon this very… She forgot the rest of what he had said, but she thought it resembled half-built gallows. It reminded her of Odin, and she smiled for a moment before crashing into something hard once again. Will I be meeting him now?