B. Finding Bohdan Rourke - The Forest

B. Finding Bohdan Rourke - The Forest

He had been wandering for two days before he found the road. Initially
he had chosen his direction by the sun, one was as good as another
considering his scant knowledge of the local geography. The encounter
with the wolf had left him curios about the world he found himself in,
he hoped that the creatures studied intelligence was a common trait
throughout the inhabitants of the land. . He had pulled his cloak tight
around him and started out, hoping the movement would warm his chilled
body and dry his damp clothes

Each step of his journey to the road had taken him further away from
the mountains that he dimly remembered wandering in during the days
before his encounter with the wolf. He was glad to put the broken
ground and freezing winds behind him, the current terrain seemed much
more hospitable, shaded forests and rolling grass covered plains had
allowed him to maintain a measured, mile eating stride. He was unsure
of the distance that he had covered as he still found it difficult to
keep his concentration for long periods of time and would find himself
day dreaming frequently. The thoughts that passed through his head were
jumbled and none of the images were clear or familiar to him. He found
himself becoming angry and frustrated if he tried to pin the thoughts
down, annoyed at his own weakness. In desperation some days earlier he
had decided to let his mind drift and allow his thoughts to develop
unhindered by his frustration. He felt no closer to understanding, but
less tense as the days had worn on. It seemed that the less he tried to
understand his mental rambling the more unusual they became, it was as
though his mind was trying to work out the answers without knowing the
right questions to ask.

His dreams were no less strange than his day thoughts - often he had
woken during the night with the adrenaline coursing through his veins
and the blood pounding in his temples, but never remembering why.
Always he was left to calm his harsh, ragged breathing with no real
idea of what had disturbed him.

The road was a much used but unimpressive mud track criss crossed by
thin ruts and sporadically pot-holed. The traveller joined the road and
continued to head away from the mountains. He has not been walking long
when he felt his mind start to wander. He let his thoughts drift,
keeping his subconscious alert to the progress he was making, relying
on it to pull him from his reverie should anything unusual occur.
It was some time later that he emerged, undisturbed, from his thoughts
to find that the evening was drawing in and the light fading. He
decided to find a sheltered spot to spend the night, walking on a
little way he came to a rise in the road. He began to make his way to
the top, hoping it would afford him a better view of his
surroundings.
By the time he reached the crest in the road he was a little out of
breath and the light had faded further from the sky. He realised he
would have to be quick picking a spot for the evening or risk having to
collect wood for his fire in the dark.

He surveyed the road ahead from his elevated position, narrowing his
eyes to pick out detail in the gloom. A pinprick orange glow caught his
attention in the distance. As he looked on a few more joined it and the
outline of an area in the forest began to be defined. It must be a
settlement he thought to himself. It was difficult to estimate the
distance but it was certainly further than he was willing to try and
push tonight, he bought his eyes back down along the road towards his
current position.
A short distance from his place atop the rise there was a dark blot on
the shadowy road, he moved to his left to try and get a better view but
the image became no clearer. Closing his eyes the Traveller stilled
himself and let his other senses tune into the night. He could just
about make out a slight jingling sound over the whisper of the night
breeze and a low murmur that could be nothing but a voice, although the
distance muffled the words. Bemused he opened his eyes and found that
the self-imposed darkness had done him a favour. He could just make out
a very faint glow from the area of the dark spot. The glow moved around
the area, seeming to circle it at close range. Occasionally the gentle
jangling sound could again be heard. The traveller decided that he
would learn no more about what was going on from his present position
and in any case would have to pass by the area of interest whilst
finding a place for the night. Drawing his cloak around him to defeat
the light but chill breeze he moved cautiously into the night.

It did not take long to reach the obstruction in the road, as the
Traveller came nearer the occasional noises became more audible and by
the time he was within sight of the area he had a good idea of what was
going on. He approached with care, the murmuring he had heard from
further up the hill were indeed the voice of a man; the glow was from a
covered lantern that he carried. The Traveller made enough noise so
that the man would not be startled by his presence, but not enough to
pick him out as a target in the dark.
As the man heard his footfalls the lantern was covered
completely.
"Who's there" called a concerned voice through the darkness
"Be at peace " replied the Traveller
"What do you want?" came the voice
"Nothing," the Traveller replied " I am just passing this way on the
road to the settlement"

He stood a little way back in the cover of the trees and surveyed the
scene. The man was a Wagoneer, The wagon he was leading was pulled by a
single roan mare of about 15 hands. The wooden wheel of the wagon was
jammed in the ruts on the road and was beginning to splinter in the
Wagoneer's efforts to pull it free.

"You look like you could use a hand," said the Traveller.
"Why would you want to do that?" replied the Wagoneer uncovering the
lantern slightly.
"I am new to this place, and so far I have been offered nothing but
consideration in my dealings with others" replied the Traveller "It
would be rude of me to refuse you the service I have been shown"
"That's an unusual outlook in the present times" came the suspicious
reply, "How do I know you won't use me to help free the wagon and then
take it for your own?"
"You have no way of knowing that " said the Traveller "It is not the
case, besides," he added "I'm sure there are others out in these parts
who would not hesitate to liberate you of your goods, perhaps even your
livelihood as well?"
"Very true" replied the Wagoneer.
The Traveller smiled to himself still concealed in he darkness, stepped
forward into the lanterns light and spoke to the merchant for a few
moments. They then set to the backbreaking task of unloading the
vehicle.

The forest at night is a paradox to the stranger. The difference
between a friendly wood in which the darkness cloaks you and that which
pricks at the base of the neck and chills you like and obsidian blade
is merely one of perception. That perception can change in an instant.
There was no sound as the figure high up on the slope sighted on the
Traveller and drew back his bowstring, he held it for an instant,
checking his aim and then released the tension. The hiss of the string
cutting the night air mingled with that of the Bowman's expelled
breath. The Archer looked down the slope to the two labouring men. "Too
slow traveller" he whispered, for if there had been an arrow on the
string there would be only one man left standing in the dark forest.
The Bowman's perception of his surroundings did not change as he slung
his bow over his shoulder and silently slipped away from his hiding
place. Seconds later two pairs of eyes made contact through the
deepening night and two figures detached themselves from the shadows,
following his trail.