Of Mud and Crown

Chapter 8

“The woods do not hate you. They simply do not know you exist.”
— Hunter’s saying

I sighed, turned around and walked back to the inn. Dark clouds covered the sky again, and the entire land turned to shade.
Birds stopped singing, and the wind got even colder.
I walked up to the inn and the innkeeper stood besides the entrance.
“Greetings,” I said. “Where is Slatiny?”
“Just beyond the east side of this forest,” He responded, then looked up in the sky. “A storm is coming, I wouldn’t recommend going out there.”
“How far is it?” I asked.
“Just under an hour,” The innkeeper replied.
I’ll have time. I thought to myself, waved to the innkeeper and entered the forest.
Alright, just straight east until I see the village. Shouldn’t be too hard.
Just when I got deeper in the forest and the trees closed in even closer and the bushes covered the path, I felt a drop on my nose.
Sakra, it’s starting.
Then lighting passed in the sky. In a few seconds, I heard the thunder. And then it started pouring.
The ground beneath me instantly became softer and muddy, and bushes were cold and wet.
I walked in the rain, already all wet and shivering. The creek flooded, now turning into a big river I had to walk through.
The cold water got into my boots, making them heavier, and I grinned. My clothes became wet and heavy, making it harder to walk.
Suddenly, I felt something beneath me break, and I fell down. I looked back – loose rock.
The rain made huge puddles everywhere, and stepping on them made my boots dirty.
And only when my feet started hurting tremendously, I have realized I’ve been walking for long. Long enough to have reached the village.
What happened?
I looked around. Did I take a wrong turn somewhere? I looked beneath my feet. The path seemed to be narrower… probably because of the rain. I was in the middle of the forest, and the trees seemed to be closing in.
I looked up at the sky – it was dark and covered in storm clouds. The wind moved the leaved rapidly, some of them falling off.
I kept walking. Wait. Did I pass this creek before? It looks familiar…
The rain covered the entire forest and trapped me as if in giant stone walls.
I ran somewhere, but after a few minutes, got tired and stopped. I still wasn’t on the path. The once small creeks were now flowing with rainwater and mud, destroying everything on it’s path.
I looked beneath my feet. The path was now non-existent, only wet grass beneath my boots…
I could only hear the sound of the rain hitting on the ground and the trees. No birds sang, no wildlife ran in the bushes.
I heard a thunder again. It was even louder this time.
I kept walking. This must be the east, right? Damn it, I can’t see the sun because of all these clouds!
It feels like I’m walking the wrong way… No., I didn’t turn anywhere, if I just keep walking, I’ll find the village…
I started walking faster. Small branches and leaves cracked under my heavy boots. Then faster, and faster… I’m almost running now.
The branches hung lower, roots crossed the ground, and the bushes scratched my legs.
I’m thirsty… I opened my mouth, letting tiny droplets of rain fall into it. It didn’t help. I looked around. There wasn’t even a single berry anywhere around…
I looked at the horizon. Suddenly, I saw smoke. I ran towards there, but in a minute, realized it was just fog.
I kept walking, hoping to find an exit, but the forest didn’t want to let me go.
Then to the right, I saw a building. I ran, but when I was there, realized it was two fallen trees who fell on each other.
“Kurva!” I shouted into the nothingness.
But I stood up and walked more. Ten minutes. Twenty. Or did an hour pass?
I looked beneath me, and saw fresh boot prints on the mud. I put my boots to it – the prints were much larger.
I almost cried from relief.
I followed the prints and soon, heard a sound in front of me. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
An axe hitting wood. I ran the fastest I could towards the sound, and saw a man in dark green clothes holding an axe and hitting a tall tree with it.
I ran up to him, and he turned around.
“Lost?”
“No.”
He looked around.
“You’re three hours from the road.”
I smiled.

Chapter 9

“A lonely house in the woods can feel warmer than a king’s castle.”
— Hermits

I opened the door. Immediately, warm air hit my freezing face. My wet clothes felt even heavier, my fingers began hurting as they’re warming up, and water dripped on the wooden floor from my thin linen shirt.
The hunter walked in after me, took off his boots and placed them in front of the fireplace, near the drying herbs.
To the right of the fireplace, a small stack of firewood stood, stacked neatly. A wooden bow hanged on the pegs.
The fire was cracking and popping, the kettle quietly boiled, and rain drummed on the roof.
It smelled of wood smoke and freshly baked bread. The hunter took it out of the oven, cut it, put in a bowl and handed it to me.
“Eat.”
The bread was hot, soft on the inside and hard on the outside.
Then he put as each a bowl of meat stew.
“Hunted it myself,” He said.
He handed me a wooden spoon, and in no time, I finished the food.
“Don’t you get lonely out here?” I asked.
The hunter looked confused and looked out of the window.
“I’m not alone.”
I looked out and saw rain, a bird sitting on a bucket outside, and the green trees around the cabin.
The hunter finished his food and started carving something.
A white dog sat beside the campfire, sleeping. I stood up and petted it, the sat down in front of the campfire, leaning on the wooden chair. I stared at the fire, watching the bright flames dance and hearing the wood beneath it pop.
I felt warmth returning to my hands. I noticed knife marks on the table and the smoke-darkened beams above.
The fire popped, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney.
The hunter walked up, put another log into the fire, which woke up the dog, and gave it a crust.
For the first time in days, I wasn’t thinking about where to go next.
The hunter sat back down on the high chair besides the table and stared at the fire without saying a word.
“It’s late,” He finally said. “You can sleep in my attic.”
I climbed up the cracking ladder and saw a small bed made out of haystack and a wooden chest beside it.
I got undressed and placed jumped in bed, placing my head on the slightly cold and hard pillow.
The rain drummed on the roof just above. The wind passed in between the trees, whistling. And I fell asleep.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of the rain still drumming on the roof. I stood up, got dressed and got down the weak ladder.
Outside the window, the storm was still ravaging, and the fireplace was still burning.
The hunter was already sitting by the table and sharpening a knife. Once he saw I stood up, he nodded on a cauldron in the hearth.
I took a wooden bowl, put the warm porridge and ate it in silence. The hunter didn’t talk – he just carved something and looked at the fire.
Then, he stood up, put on his jacket and walked out into the rain. I watched him go into a small shack beside the house and then return.
Cold air rushed in as he opened the door and stopped when he closed it.
Soon, the rain ended.
The hunter didn’t wait – he grabbed his bow and opened the door.
“You with me?” He asked.
I nodded, and followed.
Immediately after exiting the cabin, we were back in the woods. I felt like we never left, really.
I followed as the hunter navigated the morning forest.
The ground beneath me was soft and covered with mud and wet grass. It smelled of freshness and of greenery.
A rabbit jumped from one bush to another, and a blackbird flied in front of me.
Suddenly, the hunter stopped. I stopped too. He raised his hand in a sing for me to be quiet.
I looked around us and saw nothing. The hunter picked up his arrow from his back and pointed it at something.
I looked – and after squinting my eyes, saw a small deer standing in front of a tree not too far away from us.
It blended in to the trees behind it and didn’t notice us yet. The hunter raised his bow, aimed, and shot.
An arrow flied quickly and hit the deer in it’s neck. It fell down, and the hunter rushed towards it.
It tried to run away, but he freed it of it’s suffering before it could react. Then, I helped him pick up the deer.
It was heavy as hell, but with grinning, we carried it back towards the cabin.
“I’ll take it from here,” The hunter said.
And carried the deer towards one of the shacks. I walked back in the house and found the dog eating food from the half-empty plate on the table.
The old knight is probably waiting for me, I should go now. I walked out the cabin, and to the shack.
The hunter was butchering the deer with a large knife. He turned around.
“It’s my time to head out,” I said. “Thank you.”
He nodded and came back to butchering.
“Would you happen to know where Slatiny is?” I asked.
“An hour or so east,” He responded. “Just stay on the path and you’ll get there.”
“Thanks.”
I walked out of the shack, from the yard and onto a small path. It led through the bushes and in between the tall trees.
The sun shined through the leaves, and thankfully, they protected me from the heat of the bohemian summer.
I picked up a berry and ate it on my way. Going on the path, still muddy from yesterday’s night, I soon saw the two trees I saw yesterday as a house.
Only when the sun was high up in the sky, I saw the edge of the forest, and walked onto a small hill.
In front of me stood a small village, surrounded by the forest and fields. I could still see the small silhouette of Trosky Castle up north, behind all the forests.
Somewhere there, my father and mother probably worked in the fields tirelessly. I turned around and looked at the village in front of me.
It was just less than a dozen houses, all standing on one small road, with a well right in the middle of it.
Behind the village ran a small river, then hiding deep into the forest. I got down and walked onto the street.
Everyone looked at me like at a stranger. Probably, because I was a stranger. It smelled of freshly baked bread.
The roads were still all muddy from the rain. Two small boys ran in front of me, playing something. A housewife passed by, carrying a bucket of something. Then, a man passed, carrying two heavy buckets of water.
“Jesus Christ be praised,” I greeted him.
He simply nodded in reply and continued walking, then entering a yard and a small house.
I walked all the way across the village, until I saw a small house on the very corner of it. I noticed the old man I met at the inn sitting at the bench in front of the house and drinking something.
I walked up to him, smiling.
“Hey!” I greeted him.
“You came!” His face filled with happiness and he stood up, grunting.
“I got lost in the forest in the storm yesterday,” I said. “So I’m a bit late.”
“No worries!” He smiled. “The good thing is you made it, alive.”
He pointed at his house.
“Well, that’s where I live,” He said. “Come on in, I have fresh bread I made myself.”
He led me into the house. It was small, even small than our house in Krtschkowitz. Just one bed, a chest and a cauldron over the fire.
I noticed different swords, daggers and knifes hanging on the wall, and two sets of armor placed carefully in the corner.
The knight noticed I was looking at the swords, amazed.
“This one was forged for me by a blacksmith in Toledo,” He said, looking at it.
I looked at another one,
“Ah, this one is from Maniago,” He smiled.
“You have a great collection,” I noted.
“Thank you,” He smiled again. “Alright… let me put you some bread.”
He cut the bread with a big sharp knife and handed me a loaf.
“I assume you’ve already had breakfast,” He smirked. “As you look pretty happy.”
I ate the warm loaf of bread.
“Now, what you really came here for…” He finished his loaf and looked at me.
Then he turned around and walked up to a corner of the room, and took two wooden swords from them.