Two cowled figures crept through a forest and halted at the banks of a wide river. A large wooden wheel creaked on the opposite bank as water from a nearby pond flowed through it. Massive logs floated down the river and a team of men guided the trunks off the water and into the arms of another labor crew.
“A bit late in the year for the mill to be so busy.”
Shrugging, the second figure continued watching the millers churn through the lumber. A man strode onto the wooden saw platform and barked orders. The workers picked up their pace, grunting as they strained to haul the wood off the river and load it into a cart pulled by a pair of mules. Two larger wagons sat at the opposite end of the saw platform, men racing to fill the wagons with fresh hewn planks.
Scratching his jaw, the first figure broke the silence again, “We ought to head upriver, check out the logging camps.”
The two rangers ducked back into the forest and followed the river upstream. Miles passed in silence as the men hiked along the treeline. A plethora of saplings grew across the river, juvenile trees planted by the loggers to ensure the continued health of the forest.
“At least it seems they’re honoring the forest.”
Trekking for miles, the abundant planting of seedlings slowed down and the opposite river bank became barren.
“Guess they gave up on respecting the gods.”
Music and singing drifted over the river and revealed the logging camp’s location. Tree stumps dotted the plains on the other side of the river and a trio of log cabins sat nestled in a bend of the river. A roaring fire occupied the center of the camp and a score of workers sat on log stumps surrounding the fire. Boisterous singing and open barrels led to numerous men dancing around the circle and clinking flagons with each other. Several unloaded wagons sat on the edge of the camp, next to a larger building men ambled in and out of. Dipping beneath the treeline, the sun’s final rays gilded the receding forest around the camp.
One of the rangers slid out of the forest, creeping closer to the festive camp. The second ranger halted him, “We ought to head back, Kenu. Tell the others.”
“You head on back, I’m gonna wander upstream. I don’t like seeing this much logging.”
Kenu’s partner nodded and slid back into the trees, leaving Kenu crouching on the river banks. Brows furrowed, the ranger watched the festivities dwindle until the campfire sat abandoned. He made his way further upriver, eyeing the devastation of the forest on the opposite banks. The logging season had reduced the tremendous White Forest to endless stumps. Seeing enough of the devastation, Kenu knelt down on the river banks and prayed, “Domavi, I apologize for the wickedness of Gullpoint’s lumberers. I don’t know why they have destroyed the forest, but I will find out, this I swear to you.”
The gentle breeze that night caressed Kenu as he drifted home, struggling to focus on the tranquility of his forest. Occasional shrines and ornate stone carvings greeted him as he walked through the trees. Strolling past a shallow brook, Kenu paused and filled his water skin. He sat down on a flat rock a yard from the water and drank. Several moments passed as Kenu paused to meditate and pray, calming his thoughts before he entered his cabin.
The door creaked shut as Kenu stepped into his cabin. He shed his satchel and quiver, hanging them on a row of hooks beside the door. He set his bow down on a table and stepped across the room to a bed in the corner.
A firm whisper welcomed Kenu into bed, “You had me worried, honey.”
“I didn’t mean to be out so late, dear. My route ended up taking me several miles upriver,” Kenu said as he wrapped his arms around his wife.
“Upriver? I thought you were headed south tonight.”
“I thought I was too until I saw the mill still active.”
Kenu’s wife sat up in bed and turned to face her husband. “Why are they still sawing? It’s summertime. The foresters should be planting saplings this time of year.”
“I know, Mariset. I walked upriver a few miles. They stopped replanting after a half mile and I’ve never seen so many stumps before.”
----------------------------------------
The cabin lay in the treeline of a small clearing. A fire pit occupied the center of the glade, a dozen yards in front of the door, and a fenced in chicken coop rested to the right of the house. Kenu sat on a wooden stump by the fire and sipped from a brass mug, watching the sun rise above the treeline. The pitter-patter of several small feet caught Kenu’s ear and the ranger rose from his stump. He strolled across the clearing to his front door and peeked inside. A young girl screamed in delight and rushed to fling the door open. Kenu chuckled and wrapped his arms around his daughter, carrying her over to a large table in the corner of the cabin.
“Am I still coming to shoot with you and mommy?”
“Absolutely, princess. After you finish eating, we can head out to the forest.”
Mariset planted a bowl of oats in front of her daughter and said, “Eat up sweet girl. You need to have strength for today.”
The girl set about devouring her oats, pausing every so often to beam at her parents. Kenu reached out and grabbed Mariset’s hand and squeezed. He watched his daughter and smiled at her healthy appetite.
Mariset squeezed back, “I know where that appetite comes from.”
Kenu laughed and agreed. As the trio finished breaking their fast, Kenu stood up and began packing his satchel. He included a handful of silver coins, catching Mariset’s attention.
“I didn’t know the trees started charging for target practice.”
“I have to head into town and grab a few things. I’ll be back this evening.”
Mariset raised an eyebrow, “I know you’ll be back. It’s your night to cook.”
“That’s why I’m bringing a secret weapon to hunt this morning. I need all the help I can get,” Kenu grinned.
----------------------------------------
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Arrows slammed into the fallen log, two hundred feet away from the family. Lefrea squealed and gave her father a hug.
“Go papa!”
Kenu held his daughter tight and then sent her to fetch the arrows. He began stringing her small bow and waited for her to prance back with the three arrows. Giving her the bow, he pointed at a closer tree stump and backed up a few paces. The young girl nocked the first arrow and stared downfield at a much closer log before drawing back on her bowstring and firing. The arrow wedged itself in a neighboring tree a yard to the right of the target. Looking down at her feet, Lefrea groaned and looked up at her father.
“That was better than last week, dear. These things take practice. All you have to do is keep shooting.”
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
The young girl nodded and nocked a second arrow. Again, she missed by a few feet, but her third shot managed to clip the outer edge of the wooden block. Lefrea shrieked and turned to flash her parents a squealing smile. Chuckling, Kenu wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her downfield to retrieve her arrows and head out into the forest to track down game for the evening’s meal. The pair prowled the forest for a handful of hours, with Kenu managing to bag a trio of rabbits for the stew pot before he took his daughter back to the house.
"Don't get yourself involved in something you don't need to, hon," Mariset held Kenu for a moment before letting him leave for the city.
"Never," he replied, grinning, before his expression sobered up under the gaze of his wife. "I'll be safe and I'll be smart."
She snorted and shook her head before shooing him away and following their daughter inside the house. Kenu watched the door shut and sighed, rubbing the back of his head, before trudging into the woods towards Stoneoak.
Creaking wagons pulled by aurochs passed Kenu, the large animals and rattling wheels kicking up clouds of dust. Kenu admired the tall, rigid pine trees guarding either side of the dirt road. The great forest fascinated him and engendered a deep respect for the gods responsible for such a natural wonder. Walking in the tree line to avoid the frequent dust clouds, Kenu had an excellent view of the other travelers headed towards Stoneoak Bay. A vast forest filled with goliath white pine and white oak trees protected the rear of the city, stretching miles south and east of the city.
Wagons passed Kenu with increasing frequency as he reached eyesight of the imposing wooden ramparts encircling Stoneoak Bay. The loggers had cleared the forest surrounding the city, enabling the walls to tower over the grasslands. Archers strolled the battlements two dozen feet above the ground. Great wooden double doors lay open, inviting travelers and wagons into the bustling city. Kenu greeted the spearmen flanking the gate and the guards nodded back at him as he passed into the city. Cobblestone paved the wide street running from the gate to the western harbor, with various taverns and inns lining the region of the street closest to the outer wall.
People drinking, talking, eating, and walking down the street created generous noise along the first dozen blocks of the main road. As Kenu passed through the traveler’s district and headed deeper into the city toward the bay, inns and pubs became nicer restaurants and bakeries and the chatter and pedestrians diminished. Further toward the harbor, the road gave way into a large square area occupied by a variety of merchant stalls, vendors, artisan shops, and warehouses. The port lay on the opposite side of Market Square, shielded from Kenu’s view by the massive shipyards that produced the merchant fleet of Stoneoak Bay.
Kenu veered left into a small avenue a mile before the market and made his way south through myriad houses and smaller inns. Continuing south through the residential district, he arrived in an open area within sight of the southern wall. In the middle of the square, men and women sparred with an assortment of weapons. Archers practiced volleying arrows at a cluster of cloth targets on the western flank of the grounds.
The largest building in the square squatted on the wall side of the property. One of the few stone settlements in the city, the southern barracks housed half of the city guard. A forge claimed the eastern part of the square, responsible for arming and armoring the guards. Behind the arrow-filled targets sat a wooden keep. Kenu navigated the training grounds, greeting several of the practicing guards as he strode toward the keep.
An unassuming ground floor contained a large open space occupied by a few chairs, tables, bookshelves, and a pair of rooms on the back wall. To the right of the foyer, a staircase rose to the next floor and Kenu ascended the steps, arriving at a long hallway with numerous rooms. He passed all the rooms and made for the opposite wall where another staircase sat. Climbing the stairs to the third-floor, he arrived at another long hallway occupied by several rooms. He cracked his knuckles before heading for a door at the far end of the hallway, where he knocked three times and waited a few moments before hearing a terse response.
“Come in.”
Kenu took a deep breath, eyes boring into the short prayer carved into the dark wood of the door. Exhaling, he nodded and entered the ranger general’s office. Nesma regarded him for several seconds before nodding her head towards a leather chair across from her. He sat down and inspected the ornate wooden desk between them. Inlaid carved panels depicting rangers walking through the forest and great sailing ships gliding across the sea clashed with the otherwise bland bookshelves, tables, and chests that occupied the room. Several naval charts and small marble ship figurines dotted the table and the general swept them up and set them to the side.
Nesma rested her elbows on the table and put the stopper into her ink jar, “What brings you to the keep, Kenu?”
“I saw some things on my last patrol, General.”
Squinting at Kenu, the general set down her ink quill and leaned back in her chair, remaining silent.
“Gullpoint is still logging and it seems like they’ve felled even more than during the season.”
“Perhaps they fell behind in the spring quota.”
“They haven’t even started restoring the forest. Something is wrong.”
The general sighed and cracked her knuckles. “Again, perhaps they fell behind in the spring.”
Kenu scowled, “This is not accidental, Nesma. I’ve never seen them cut like this. Even when they lumber late in the year, they are out there planting saplings at the same time.”
Nesma leaned forward in her chair and rested her arms on the desk. The rangers stared at one another for several moments before Nesma broke the silence.
“You go on patrol again in two nights, correct? Take someone from the northern station with you and you can check the camp out again. Take one good look and do not get close. Understand?”
Nodding, Kenu stood and turned to leave. The captain watched him depart and returned to inspecting the various pieces of parchment on her desk.
Kenu descended to the ground floor of the vacant keep and walked towards the doors at the rear of the room. Opting for the left door, he rapped his knuckles on the door, waited for a few seconds, and entered. Several dim candles lit the room, casting just enough light to see a stone block carved into a lifelike oak tree. A thick wool rug lay in front of the statue and Kenu knelt down on the rug.
“Domavi, bless me with the wisdom and courage to protect your forest. Show me what’s going on with Gullpoint and bring me home to my wife.”
Standing, he looked at the altar for a few minutes before exiting the room and the keep. He strode back through the training grounds, keeping his eyes on his feet, and headed south toward the harbor. The houses in the southwest quadrant of the city lacked the colors and liveliness of the central avenues. Kenu passed fewer and fewer children playing outside and received more stares as he wove further into the shipping district. Occasional music reached Kenu’s ears as he passed the various harbor inns inhabited by the city’s numerous sailors.
Arriving at the harbor, Kenu came into full view of the enormity of Stoneoak Bay’s port. Countless ships sat at anchor in the city’s myriad docks and warehouses rose in every vacant plot. Several taverns, shops, and counting houses occupied the bustling street running parallel to the sea. The majority of trade in the city resided in Market Square, but all goods flowing into Stoneoak passed through the merchants and bankers presiding over Harbor Street. Jostling through the crowded thoroughfare, Kenu headed north, into the heart of the district.
Fishmongers yelled about the day’s catch, competing with the volume of the other market stalls boasting a plethora of trinkets and other goods not warranting a store front. Throngs of tourists and locals congested the street and Kenu eased through the traffic for an hour before darting into a side street cutting between two squat warehouses. The alleyway led to another street running parallel to the docks, featuring a pair of fabric stores and a smaller number of pedestrians. He ambled north, past the fabric stores and a handful of other craftshops, aiming for a tavern nestled between a general store and a counting house.
Boisterous music seeped out of the tavern alongside a trickle of stumbling customers. Kenu slipped past the inebriated sailors and entered the spacious pub. Keeping to the wall, he skirted the cramped tables and customers and managed to slither over to the bartender. A voluminous beard and weathered skin greeted Kenu as he landed at the bar.
“Chemani’s fist! Kenu? It’s been years since I’ve seen you, young man!”
The ranger chuckled and claimed a stool opposite the bartender, “It’s good to see you still kicking, Jemaine. How’s landlife been treating you?”
“Nothing compares to the seabreeze kissing my beard or Chemani rocking me to sleep every night, but I guess getting hammered for free ain’t so bad.”
Kenu chuckled and agreed with Jemaine, enticed by the idea of free booze, “Does the free liquor extend to old friends?”
The grizzled bartender narrowed his eyes and stared at Kenu, “Is this why you’ve come to visit, pup?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Kenu gestured at a barrel of cider occupying a prominent position behind the bar, “You wouldn’t be peddlin’ my granddaddy’s recipe without giving me a family discount, would you?”
Jemaine’s eyes darted over to the cider barrel before coming back to glare at the ranger.
“Well, you’ve caught me, boy. What can I get you to drink?”
Kenu grinned and knocked on the wooden bar, “I’ll take a pint of cider and some information.”