The Lonely Road To Vengeance - Chapter 7 - (17 years ago)

  • Brynjar stood in the clearing outside the house and focused his attention at the distant treeline. Hanging from the branches of various trees were targets made from sawn logs. He turned to the table and picked up a one handed steel axe. He had made the axe along with the others on the table. They looked very much like the war axes that could be found hanging from the belts of warriors and adventurers all across the province but the balance had been adjusted so that they could be used for throwing as well as hand to hand combat. They didn’t have the range of a bow but they could do far more damage and would according to his father “end a fight in one bloody instant”. Brynjar eyed his chosen target shifting his grip on the axe handle till it felt comfortable. Then in one fluid motion he stepped forward bringing his arm over his head in one long arc releasing the axe at the optimum point, The axe left his hand spinning end over end making a sound like a brace of pheasants taking flight as it sped towards the target. The axe hit the chosen target, burying itself an inch deep into the wood splitting it from top to bottom. Brynjar nodded with satisfaction and reached for the next axe.


    It had been a a couple of months since he broke his rib falling into the gorge and  Lizzies efforts to heal him had been as good as her word. In just over a week all bruising, pain and stiffness were gone. He had gone back to her shop a few times, at first so she could check on his progress and then later to buy various ointments and salves. The cabinet by his bed was rapidly filling with the jars, all unopened and unneeded. For her part Lizzie seemed to be finding excuses to visit the blacksmith’s shop, getting Brynjar to make new herb drying racks or sometimes to repair old one that looked like they had been stamped on. Brynjar was not sure how to proceed. They clearly wanted something more but whenever they were together they talked about, herb racks or foot ointment or simply fell into uncomfortable silence. The only thing that was clear to Brynjar was that if things continued as they were he was going to have to build a larger bedside cabinet and Lizzie would need a to build an extension to the shop just for drying herbs


    Brynjar was about to pick up another axe when he heard the bellowing scream. He didn’t hesitate but grabbed two axes and ran into the woods. His Father had been teaching him the art of stealth and tracking. The exercise was simple one of them would pick out a route through the woods to a place of their choosing trying to leave as little trace as possible then half an hour later the other would try to follow the trail and find their quarry. Brynjar could track his father but not quickly and by the sounds of the screams he didn’t have time to spare. Brynjar tried his best to judge the direction the sound was coming from and ran as fast as he could, crashing through bracken and jumping fallen branches.


    As the ground dipped down he found his father. Balgruuf was lying in the bracken that was dripping with blood. Standing over him was a colossal cave bear. Brynjar threw one of his two axes. The axe struck the bear in the side just below its left shoulder. The axe head went in deep and stayed there sending out a spray of blood. The bear howled in rage and turned to face him. Brynjar readied the other axe and drew the steel dagger from his belt that was his only other weapon and charged toward the bear screaming with rage. The bear brought its paw down as Brynjar feinted to the side so rather than opening his chest the claws simply cut open his arm. He swung the axe into the side of the bears head. The bear roared and knocked Brynjar back winding him and leaving him sprawling on the ground. The axe lande out of reach. The bear approached him slowly panting heavily. The continued loss of blood from the axe wound in it’s side and the blow that had cut it from left eye down to the side of its mouth had taken their toll. Brynjar tried to remain still as the bear stood over him lowering it head till it was less than a foot from his own. The stink of its breath filled his nostrils and a mix of blood and saliva dripped onto his face and chest. Brynjar brought the dagger up into the bear’s throat over and over again. The bear tried to get away but it was too late. Instead it collapsed onto him.

     

    Brynjar slowly dragged himself out from under the weight of the bear and made his way to his father. Balgruuf was lying in the bracken, his skin was pale and there was blood everywhere but he was still breathing. His father was wearing steel armour that had protected his vital organs but his arms were bare and had been clawed and the bear had managed to tear off one of the greaves and do a lot of damage to the leg. It looked like the muscle in the upper leg and been clawed to ribbons. Brynjar tried to hold back the tears and the panic. He tore off a strip of cloth from his shirt and tied a tourniquet around Balgruuf’s leg. As he pulled it tight a moan escaped Balgruuf’s lips. Brynjar let down to his father’s ear and whispered.


    “It’s going to be alright, you are not going to die.”


    He grabbed his father under the arms and dragged him through the bracken towards home.


    When he reached home he set his father down in the grass outside the town and set of towards town at a run. As he crossed the bridge and ran on towards Lizzie’s shop people stopped in their tracks to stare at him. He was a terrible sight to behold, with a wide eyed look of panic and drenched in blood, his own, his father’s and the bears. However he had no time to care what others thought, he had to reach Lizzie.


    He burst through the door to the Apothecary shop.  Lizzie looked up in shock at the sudden intrusion, then her expression changed to one of horror as she saw the state Brynjar was in.


    “By The Nine! What happened to you! ”


    Brynjar grasped a pillar for support and slumping slightly gasped for breath, his training had made him fitter by far than most, but he had run through the woods, fought a cave bear, dragged his father back to then run as fast as he could into town without a single pause. To add to this he was in pain and still losing blood from the wound in his arm. He struggled to get the words out.


    “You... You’ve got to come, It’s my father, bear attack”


    Lizzie didn’t wait for further explanation she grabbed a large leather satchel from behind the counter and then  a few bottles from the shelf. Stuffing a couple of bottles in Brynjar’s hand.

    “Drink these and take me to him, green one first”


    Brynjar looked at the bottles, both were in the same shaped bottle, small, square and able to fit in the palm of his hand. However one was made of green glass, and the other red. He pulled the cork from the green one and downed it in one go, feeling the chalky liquid pour down his throat with a neutral taste that was not unpleasant. He felt his breath coming easier, the pounding in his head faded away and strength returned to his muscles. He then drank the potion in the red bottle, this tasted of  blood and mushrooms he felt the pain in his arm fade and strange tingling sensation similar to the one that he had felt when Lizzie had used a spell to fix his broken rib.


    “Thanks Lizzie, but we need to go now.”


    The ran out of the shop and up the main road out of town.


    As they approached the woods Brynjar could see Lizzie was starting to lag behind. She pulled reach into a large pocket on the front of her dress and pulled out a green bottle just like the one she had handed him and took a swig from it it. She nodded to Brynjar and picked up her pace. The reached the clearing ran over to Balgruuf. He was still alive, his breathing shallow. Lizzie reached into her satchel and pulled out a large red bottle. Brynjar helped her as she lifted Balgruuf’s head and gently poured some a little of the contents into his mouth, giving him time to swallow. Little by little as she emptied the bottle the colour returned to Balgruuf’s skin and his breathing became stronger.


    Lizzie turned her attention to the leg. Ribbons of muscle and sinew hang of of it and the bone was was clear to see. Lizzie cupped her hand over the wound, closed her eyes and began to recite the words of a healing spell. Brynjar watched in astonishment as wounds started to close before his his eyes, flesh moving back to where it belonged and knitting back together. Lizzie lowered her hands. She was dripping with sweat and shaking slightly.


    “I’m sorry Brynjar, that is all I can do for now. He is out of danger but he needs to rest, he also needs food, something easy to eat like a stew. I can make him some healing tea and a poultice to help stop infection and pain but he will need several more treatments over the next few days. Let’s get him to his bed. Then you can start on some food while I go and get more supplies and lock up my shop.”


    “Lizzie I don’t know how I will ever be able to thank you for this”


    “Make extra stew, I am going to be staying for a few days”

     

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Comments

1 Comment   |   The Wolf Of Atmora and 1 other like this.
  • Sotek
    Sotek   ·  January 21, 2017
    All too often a potion cures all and before you know it the injured person is running around as if it never happened so it's nice to read that the healing will take a few days. Bear fights can be such horrible affairs.
    Throwing axes, what's not to love....