The Lost Stars Chronicle

Chapter 15: Yuletide Celebrations

       Sir Dractor had not really done anything useful for a couple months. Nothing notable anyway. It was perhaps one of the quietest times of his life, doing small, odd, and rather simple jobs here and there, but mostly sitting around Drullen Bell hobnobbing with the captains and soldiers, and doing relatively little. In the life of one such as he, such periods of calm were few and far between.
       Drullen Bell was in the process of preparing for the Yuletide celebrations. Visitors were coming in from the country, the kitchens were preparing food, and Sir Dractor was helping some of the rangers with decorating the Great Hall. It was, Sir Dractor thought, very similar to the year-end celebrations of his own nation.
       The gigantic fir standing in the center of the Great Hall was a bit different though. The rangers had been very busy the past week cutting down and moving a truly enormous fir from the forest, down to Drullen Bell, and then through the entrance, into the courtyard, and through the massive double doors into the Great Hall. Then they had to find a way to stand it upright, and keep it that way.
       All that was finished by now, and the time had come to bedeck it with garlands and ornaments. The twenty foot height of the tree made it necessary to use several ladders to reach the upper 2/3rds of the tree. Still, thought Sir Dractor, when all was finished, it had been fun putting it up and the result was truly impressive. It was good to have a holiday to celebrate. He wondered what the Old Man and Elwen were doing as Yuletide approached.
       Bjarn, sitting up in his portable cot cheered with the rest when the giant of a tree was at last set upright, it’s massive trunk supported by stones and metal braces hastily hammered out by Rodurik and his son, Trad. While Sir Dractor oversaw the decorations, Jack Craft dictated the arranging of tables.
       “Brix and blox, Aros, lad lift you end, ‘igher! Megablocks! OW, no, I’m fine, keep yer end up, lad! Now turn left, by the brick, LEFT, yer other left! Brix and blox…”
       Bjarn chuckled and downed a mug of honeyed tea. Now that his legs had at last stopped paining him, his had abandoned all alcohol to return to lest intoxicating drinks. As he sucked on the last dregs Shainya bounced forward, her face beaming, and refilled his cup. Bjarn thanked her and she left to refill other empty mugs, but not before exchanging a playful kiss with Reno, who laughed heartily as his hung a low-hanging branch with a bauble.
       The great oaken doors opened again and Willem Blackcloak, along with Graygon and a troop of Wolfpack entered, carrying a skewered boar between them.
       “Willem! This is a surprise!” cried Bjarn, very peeved he could get up and rush to his friend.
       “Siastrakahn’s a mess, Bjarn, so we decided to bother the Forestmen this Yuletide!” grinned Willem.
       “Here’s our rent!” joked Graygon, nodding toward the boar.
       “You are all welcome!” laughed Bjarn, “Ho, Gonderin, please escort our fine guests to the kitchen!”
       As the Wolfpack exited the great hall, the doors opened again, displaying a not-so-cheerful sight. Radjar, Rosa and the band of Dark Foresters stood there, bedraggled and shivering, their faces red with cold. They slinked in and the oak doors slammed behind them, causing most of the cheer to leak out of the hall. Radjar and Rosa approached Bjarn and they both bowed as best they could.
       “Lord Bjarn, I beg of your allowance to stay in Drullen Bell.” murmured Radjar, “Hemlock is no more. The fires of the Eroth Gamus has consumed it. I have no to place to return to.”
       “Radjar, how could I possibly say no?” replied Bjarn, his eyes sad, “We are not just allies, but friends. Go, and warm thyselves. T he Forestmen do now exactly have full larders, but we have enough. Clothes with me supplied as well. And there is no need to thank me. You would have done the same. Now go, for the feast will begin with the hour.”
       As the weary group straggled off, Bjarn’s eyes caught sight of Radjar’s and Rosa’s hands. They were clasped within another. Bjarn smiled. Though this year had seen many horrors, there was still much to be grateful for.

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