Orc and Bunny

Chapter 10 - Preparations for a Journey

After it was decided that Anne and Belmoral would travel the world, a flurry of preparations were made. It kept Anne so busy that each night she flopped into bed, and was asleep before her head hit the pillow. They were not only preparing supplies, but the village chief had been kind enough to allow her to undergo weapons training with their scout’s weapon master.

The weapon master was an Agilace. She somewhat resembled a black cat on its hind paws, but the same height as a person might normally be. Her green eyes scanned her surroundings quickly as though she were always expecting an ambush. This left Anne a little on edge. She was heavily scarred, and the very tip was missing from her left ear.

“A sparring accident when I was young and foolhardy,” she explained when she caught Anne staring.

“Sorry,” Anne said, hurriedly looking elsewhere.

“Just ask in the future, then you won’t be caught gawking. Now back to work, that dummy isn’t going to kill itself, and you’re so green, your ears would meet the same fate in sparring.”

The woman was a brutal taskmaster, and Anne was discouraged at first. Never had she met someone who was so tough, strict, and blunt. She even put Anne’s old etiquette tutors to shame. Soon enough she got used to the gruffness, and when she eventually got praise for a well executed strike, she began to crave the old woman’s approval.

When Anne’s arms were so sore that she couldn’t lift them above her shoulders, the magister healed the damage, and she was made to begin again.

“Normally, I wouldn’t be here to heal you,” the magister explained, “Granny asked me to help as a favor, because apparently you don’t have much time. Though she wouldn’t say why.”

Each night, after dinner, she was shown how to care for her gear and weapons by Granny and the village blacksmith. When he had seen the weapon that Anne was using, an old service rapier that Commander Gareth had set aside for their escape, his eyes had practically left their sockets.

“How did they get it so thin?” he had practically shouted, “and the flexibility. I’ve never seen craftsmanship like this!”

“If you think that’s something, you should see father’s.” Anne couldn’t help but brag.

The smith had spent the rest of the first night thoroughly examining the strong yet delicate swirling metal on the hilt of her father’s rapier. Which Anne was grateful for, because she fell asleep shortly after taking it out for him. The next morning she was scolded by her father for shirking.

This schedule continued, for nearly a fortnight, but finally it was nearly time for them to depart. No one was quite sure why Granny was insistent on such a tight deadline, but she was widely regarded for her wisdom, so everyone dutifully did as she said. Even the village chief put his all into helping the two of them prepare.

The enthusiasm everyone exhibited waned greatly when Granny explained where they were going halfway through the second week.

“Anne, Belmoral, there is one very important aspect of your journey I haven’t told you yet. I didn’t want to discourage you too early.”

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“What is it, Granny?” they said almost in unison.

“Belmoral, you must go through the western forest.”

“No.”

“Yes, Belmoral.” Granny was gently insistent, “There is a hole in your heart, dear one. A burning question whose coals you have allowed to nearly die.”

“What do you mean, Granny?”

“You need to find out what happened to Holtha.”

“Who’s that?” Anne asked.

“My father,” Belmoral said after a moment of cold silence.

“What happened to your father?” Anne asked, quickly adding, “If it’s alright for me to ask.”

“He went mad in the western forest,” Belmoral said.

“Oh,” Anne awkwardly looked away, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, did he?” Granny challenged, “And you know that for certain?”

“Well, that’s what everyone says. The western forest is cursed.”

“Ha! Superstitious nonsense,” Granny laughed mirthlessly, “When I was a girl, the western forest was loads safer than even the village. Even the creatures wouldn’t look at a young girl on her own twice.”

“How could that be? I’ve heard it was always haunted or something.” Belmoral was clearly surprised, and Anne was just trying to keep up.

“So, this western forest is where we need to go, in order to find out what happened to Belmoral’s father. It may or may not be cursed, though?” Anne asked.

“It will also shave a full week off of your trouble to Farport.” Granny explained patiently.

“What’s Farport?” Anne asked, hating feeling like she was constantly out of the loop.

“It’s the only way to leave this island. If we want to see the rest of Wirmbold, then we have to go to Farport and catch a ship,” Belmoral explained slightly less patiently, she then sighed and addressed Granny, “I’m still not sure about this journey but you’ve never lead me astray, so I’ll do as you say.”

Anne had a hard time going to sleep that night. The darkness seemed oppressive, and full of ghosts. It seemed as though she blinked and it was morning, and she was not well rested for training that day. The weapon master drilled her all the harder for it, saying that only training when you are rested is poor practice for real combat.

The night before they were going to leave, Anne’s father approached her while she was double checking her bags.

“Anne, I want you to take this.”

Anne’s eyes widened, as she looked at the rapier in his hands.

“Father, I couldn’t! That’s your sword.”

“It’s the family sword, Anne. My great-grandfather was given this by his majesty the king, as proof of his new title.”

“Then I definitely can’t take it!” Anne squeaked.

“Anne, you’ll have more use for it out in the world than I will here.”

“It’s too valuable, I can’t.”

“Anne, I want you to take it. As a piece of home, I think you’ll find that you will want it once you are far from here.”

Her father wiped his eyes and sniffed.

“Thank you,” Anne said as she gently took the sword, her sword, from her father. She put it on the bed, and gave him the tightest hug she could manage.

“Just promise me you’ll come back now and again. It will be quiet without your mischief.”

“I promise,” she told him, “though I somehow think Granny has more mischief in her left pinky toe than I could manage in a lifetime.

They both laughed at that.

The next morning the entire village arrived to show them off on their journey.