He awoke before the sun had risen in the east, pulling his tunic over his head. Rubbing his eyes he removed the crust that had formed there overnight. The sky was beginning to turn pink as he made his way outside to begin his morning chores. He had just celebrated the beginning of his 11th summer, and his father had promised to let him work more in the forge. Painin was on the small side for his age but he figured that after a winter spent swinging a smith’s hammer with his father that in no time he would be like a hero of old.
He lifted the wooden cover off the box behind the house that held the scraps and trimmings of their meal the night before. He moved towards the small holding pen and began to place the food in the feeding troughs, much to the happy squeals and grunts of the animals there. To the side of the holding pens sat a small hutch that housed the chickens and Painin moved among the birds and removed the eggs he found placing them carefully in his tunic. He replaced the empty bucket and eggs in the box and gathered up the water buckets from the peg holding them on the backside of the house.
The sunlight filtered through the trees as he walked along the small path that lead away from his family’s land into the woods and the large stream that lay beyond. The buckets swung on the oak staff on his shoulder in time with his steps as he listened to the sounds of the woods around him as the trees began to close in around him. The sound of his father’s hammer ringing on the iron could still be heard from the forge located next to the barn though it grew quieter with each step deeper into the woods. No doubt he was making something for the Smith family whose farm was located down the road to the South a couple of leagues away.
Painin had always liked Mr. Smith’s daughter Kobi, but for some reason, he could never figure out why he was always shy around her anymore. His father was a smith of some small renown for both his skill and how quickly he finished his work. The small knife on Painin’s belt was a testament to his father’s skill for one would be hard-pressed to tell where the steel and simple wood handle began or ended. The knife had been a gift from his father last year's Eve, much to his mother’s disapproval for she like all mothers worried that he would hurt himself with it.
“Mushrooms! When will then realize that I am not a child anymore to be sent out to forage for mushrooms? I’ve seen twelve summers now, almost a man. I should be helping Father in the forge. Not out looking for mushrooms.” He thought angrily to himself as he made his way into the woods along the path that ran next to his family’s farm. “I don’t even like mushrooms!” He said to himself as he kicked an offending rock from his path.
The mushrooms were in fact for his sister Marnie’s name-day dinner, they were far and away her favorite food and she would eat them for an entire meal if their mother let her. Painin could almost see his sister helping their mother around their house doing chores and helping with the care of their smaller brother Jack. Jack who had been born 3 years ago had gone from just a wiggly blob scooting around the house looking for trouble to a terror on two legs.
Painin followed the path to the right when it split a little bit further down the way. He knew of a nice rotting log that had fallen over last fall during a storm and by now should be a haven for mushrooms coming up to the tree he was not disappointed as the shady side of the tree was covered in mushrooms. He took his time gathering the mushrooms setting down his stave and buckets, having decided that since he was being treated as a child, he would act like one.
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He hummed as he cut the mushrooms from the side of the tree, leaving some of them to regrow and placing the cuttings in the canvas sack he had brought along. Filling the sack with mushrooms Painin continued along the path that would take him to the stream beyond.
Painin liked these quiet moments to himself where he had nothing to concern himself with and allowed his mind to wander far and ignite his imagination. Dreaming that he might one day follow the stream until it met the river beyond and then eventually flowed into the ocean beyond. His mind swam with the stories he had heard from the minstrels, his father, and his time as a general in the king’s army. Faraway lands and the beauties that they beheld whether real or made up carried him along the path as he vanquished mighty evil lords with his sword and slept upon piles of coins and gems beloved as a hero of the people.
A sound ahead of him pulled him out of the imaginary fight he was winning against a great dragon and he paused looking ahead as the deer walked out into the path from amongst the trees. It was young not quite a fawn but still possessing some of a fawn’s spots and certainly not old enough to be too far away from his mother. Painin slowly set down the buckets and held the staff out in front of him taking a knee and aiming down his impromptu bow at the young deer who still had not looked up from its snack of young grass shoots. He heard his father’s voice in his ears as he continued to stare down his “bow” at the young animal. Without a sound its mother entered the path and stared at Painin her large ears swiveling away as she seemed to stare into his very soul, he heard the voice of his father.
“She doesn’t see you. Otherwise, she would be gone. Her large eyes focus on movement and if you don’t move, she won’t even know you are there unless she catches the scent of you. Now slow your breathing and focus along the arrow and listen to your heartbeat in your chest. When you feel calm once more just let go of the arrow between breaths and trust it to do its job.”
Painin just followed his advice and felt his breathing slow and his heartbeat along with it as he looked down the “arrow” of his “bow” at the pair of deer. Slowly he released the “arrow” and could almost see it fly towards the deer. Suddenly the mother’s head snapped around towards him and the pair bolted in unison across the path in a bound without a sound to even mark their presence. With a sigh, Painin looked at the spot in the woods where the two had vanished and gathering the water buckets continued along the path further into the woods. The animals made noise all around him as he walked the path and he pushed his senses outward trying to listen and feel what was going on around him.
At last, he came to the edge of the stream and set down his buckets and pole before pulling off his boots and whipping the sweat from his forehead on the back of his arm before drinking his fill from the stream and removing his tunic. Painin slowly eased into the water and gasped as its coldness shocked his body and stole his breath. The water wasn’t that deep towards the bank though he did have to move a little further out into the stream to get to where he has placed one of his fish traps. The simple woven basket sat just under the water and had an opening big enough for the fish to swim into but not out of. With practiced ease, Painin removed the fish one by one and tossed them up onto the bank just beyond the buckets where they flopped around, and then replaced the trap under the water after checking the weaving.
He repeated the process with his other 3 fish traps before he was forced to work on repairing the last trap and reweave some of the parts that had come undone. He was focused on his task, so he didn’t hear them at first, but he became aware of the sounds coming from across the stream. Pushing himself back into the undergrowth along the bank he squatted down so that just his nose up was above the water as he scanned the other bank for signs of movement. Finally, they came into sight of a group of armored men moving quickly along the other bank dressed like no other men Painin had seen in their motley assortment of furs, armor, and weapons. They barked at each other in a language that he didn’t understand as they moved seemingly like wolves hunting for prey always looking around even when they stopped to listen.