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The Lost Stars ChronicleChapter 1: Moving Out
Bjarn leaned back with a grunt as the tent around him was disassembled pole by pole. Wincing through the pain in his ribs and shoulder, he swigged another mouthful of rye beer.
“You shouldn’t drink that much, Bjarn,” scolded Shainya, who was wrapping up linens, “Alcohol is bad for the body, sight and brain.”
“Shainya, I’ve been strictly anti-booze for thirty years...I am way overdue on alcohol intake. Besides, it’s the only thing that will dull this tyco pain.”
Bjarn grimaced and then ducked as the canvas tent suddenly fluttered down on top of the two of them.
“Megabloks!” Bjarn swore, clawing his way through the cloth, “KEEP your end up out there!” he shouted.
“Brix and blox, sorry about that, Bjarn, your Elkship. The wee lass wind wanted to play with the tent.” came the muffled voice of Jack Craft.
“Steady there, the winds picking up again…” cautioned the voice of Reno, and Aros responded, “Got it!”
The choking canvas was lifted and a soon removed. For the first time in a week Bjarn peered out at the glowing stones of the Yellow Castle. He had not been fit enough to attend the crowning of the Classic Emperor, Gonderin had gone as his representative.
“Looks a little worse for wear…” he commented as Reno and Aros struggled to roll up the tent. Jack gave a pitying shake of his head a exclaimed, “Ah lads, leave it be, ol’ Jack will handle the canvas for ‘ee.”
“How do you feel Bjarn?” asked Aros.
“Like megabloks. But I’ll manage. Fetch me another bottle, will you?”
Shainya halted Aros with a glare and snatched the empty bottle Bjarn clutched away. “You’ve had quite enough, Bjarn. I’ll have Jack fix you up some herbal tea.”
Bjarn grimaced, but said nothing.
“Tea’s for wimps and Eastern Knights Kingdomers!” laughed Green Fox, who had just approached. At the sight of Bjarn’s injuries, however, he suddenly was humble and quiet.
“Ah...might sorry for ye, sir, Bjarn, sir…”
“I’m no short of pity, that is for certain.” snapped Bjarn.
Green Fox looked on mournfully, clutching his hat, until he slipped off quietly. Bjarn broke the silence when Gonderin passed.
“Gonderin! A moment!”
“Lord Bjarn.” the tall elf nodded his head with respect.
“How goes the disassembling of camp?”
“Most wagons have been loaded, and the injured are already on their way. They should reach Drullen Bell within three days, and then they will continue on to Fell Isle.”
“Very good. Carry on.”
Gonderin nodded and left. Bjarn eyed Reno and asked, “I suppose you and Aros will be coming along?”
Reno looked to Shainya with softened eyes, “I go where Shainya goes.”
“Then that means I’m coming too, since I really have no where else to go.” responded Aros.
“What about you, Jack?”
“Jack wouldn't dream of leaving his friend and patient at this moment, your Elkship.”
Bjarn smiled. Radjar Kath soon approached and bowed slightly.
“Greetings Lord Bjarn of the Forestmen.” he greeted formally.
Bjarn nodded, “And likewise greetings to you, King Kath of the Dark Forest. You are prepared to set out?”
“That the Dark Forest are. Also Lord Willem of the Wolfpack is ready as well.”
“Then we will march soon.” said Bjarn.
“Very well, Lord Bjarn.”
Radjar bowed and left. Barbod was next to greet Bjarn.
“Bjarn, you look like shifty-brick!” said the Bull King, halfway smiling.
“Good ol’ brutally honest Barbod. You fare well?”
“That tyco Cross Knight spear will leave a deep mark for many a year, but otherwise I am of good heath.”
“Do the Bulls return to Bull Isle, or to confront the Black Falcons about your right to the land? Now that the Classic Emperor has degreed you a legitimate faction the Black Falcons cannot deny your demand.”
Barbod’s brow darkened slightly. “For the present, the Bulls will stay here, under the protection of the Classics with Bersun and the other rebel Falcons. When the time is right, we will make our move. I trust Gerrik will be able to hold down the fort for a few more months.”
“Then may Chodan bless you, my friend.”
All formality ceased. Barbod looked like he wanted to rush forward and embrace Bjarn, but he knew he would only cause more pain. Instead, he gave Bjarn the Sign of the Elk, his eyes glistening. Bjarn returned the salute, and then said, “A Bull is always charging.”
Barbod nodded, and then left. Sir Dractor was the last to approach Bjarn.
“Sir Dractor, first, let me thank you.” stated Bjarn before the knight could say anything, “You have been a key part of Forestmen victory. I am thankful you killed that Elk in the Varden Swamps that day.”
Sir Dractor bowed. “If it does not burden you, I wish to stay a bit longer. I will not rest until I know you are fully recovered.”
A grin split Bjarn’s features. "My ill luck seems to be drawing everyone to me. As you wish, Sir Dractor. But remember, you are free to go any time. And no Forestmen will ever hold you prisoner on our lands.”
Gonderin approached again. “Lord Bjarn, the Forestmen are ready to go.”
“Very good, let us return home.”
Voolmark came forward, and carefully tapping the Mana, he lifted Bjarn off his bed and placed him gently on another cot in a wagon.
After the battle with the Cross Knights and Dragon Masters, Fraun had rested and walked through the camp, sometimes peeking in on Bjarn. Now it was time to leave and he was talking to Dordrot.
“So you plan on staying here with Barbod and the Bulls?” asked Fraun, hoping that Dordrot would come with him.
“Yes, I have to. And remember, you said you would help me restore the Bulls’ kingdom.” said Dordrot.
“Yes, I did. And the Bulls’ kingdom has been restored. There are many Bulls, and you are now with your kinsmen. But I have things to attend to in the forests of the Forestmen. The Forestmen kingdom must be restored. You know that.” Fraun said in a quavering voice.
He had known Dordrot for so long. They had been through many things in the past. Now they were going to separate.
“FORESTMEN, MOVE OUT!”
“Well.” said Fraun, “I must go. We will meet again in the near future I’m sure.”
“Yes...we will…” Dordrot said. His voice breaking up with emotion.
With that they embraced each other, not wanting to depart. After a few minutes, the long line of Forestmen, Wolfpack and Dark Forest wagons headed north, to what remained of home.
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