Thursday, January 19, 2012

Better Late Than Never, DD # 10: Vendave

I meant to post this earlier today, but we were shopping for apartment stuff, and I worked in the morning, and then this evening I was distracted by Umbagog chat. I've just joined the community, and it's quite frankly awesome. So I can blame Fable and the others for being late, right?

At any rate, here is an excerpt from my (neverending) novel Vendave. Set in the medieval times, it is a non-fantasy set in a fictional word, and follows a set of characters including the one below. I love this piece, but it is a monster that I've been working on for years and still is not done. One day, Vendave. One day.



The last shovel of dirt fell short of the mound, earth trickling down the side of the fresh grave, rolling back to the toes of his muddied boots. Wolfgang Medvetis sank to his knees in front of it, leaning against the spade with one hand. A simple wooden cross was the only marker, his father’s name meticulously carved into it on the side. Rows and rows of crosses surrounded him, closing in tighter and tighter—and that was only from those who didn’t merely throw the bodies into the woods for the wolves.
Somehow, Cohen Medvetis on the side of a plank of wood seemed only to reflect the fading soldier taken by plague. The man that sat in front of the fire wrapped in a blanket and hiding himself from his last of kin.
“Wolf…” He held up his gloved hand, determined to hide the marks of his dying skin, rotting away beneath the cloth. He didn’t turn to face his son. “When you go, burn this place. Don’t let anyone else step foot in.”
“Who said I was leaving?” he defended, standing just behind his father’s chair, staring down at the thin black hair that barely covered a scar on the back of his head. Battle wounds.
The chuckle in response came dry and weak. “I know you. You’re too restless for the crumbling world.” That hand dropped, gesturing vaguely towards the sword in the corner of the room, sheathed in a black leather scabbard and resting on top of an old chest. Memoirs from a half-forgotten war. “Take what you need, and burn everything else. These are memories only for us.”
Medvetis’ eyes started to water from staring at the simple marker. Splinters had worked their way into his palms, hands still gripping the shovel with white knuckles. He didn’t cry, the dampness blinked away. After all, the man that had died was little like the man that had raised him, or attempted to, after his wife had succumbed to fever when the boy was five. More dirt shifted, easing the mound closer to the earth, as if threatening to uncover the swathed and wilted body beneath, muscles sapped and atrophied. A shell, and nothing more.
“Everything is yours, now, Wolf.” A voice came from behind him, a hand falling on his tense shoulder. “Miller’s daughter had finally gotten her dowry together. Now that the house is yours, you can take her. Settle down. Right?”
With a heavy sigh, Medvetis pushed himself to his feet with the help of the spade. His eyes never left the crooked cross. His fingers had been shaking when he tied the wood together, and now the left edge drooped lower than the right. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”
“What?” The other man frowned, looking him over as if he must have been catching some mad sickness next. “Where is it you plan to go? Land is scarce, there won’t be getting any of your own outside of your father’s. Hell, you’re lucky that you even own it. Lord Saddler has everything else in town.”
Medvetis set the shovel over his shoulder, heading back towards the small cottage, a thin trail of smoke still rising from the fire dying in the hearth. “I don’t plan on finding somewhere else to settle.”
“What are you going to do, then? Just wander? You’ll be killed, Wolf. The roads have gone to hell lately with thieves and vagabonds. Your father might have taught you to use a sword, but that doesn’t do any good against gangs and arrows.”
He set the shovel down outside the house, not inviting his companion in, though the other followed him inside anyway. Medvetis didn’t answer, instead shaking the dirt from his boots as he paced across the wooden floor. A traveling pack already waited for him, along with a bow and a full quiver. He picked up his father’s sword and scabbard, looping it onto his belt. Nothing else in the single-room house had been touched, dust settling on the mantle, filtering across the empty windows in the slanted sunlight.
“You’re really leaving.” His voice trailed off, watching the young man shoulder the bag and weaponry.
“You should leave, and move downwind.” Medvetis suggested flatly, taking a long piece of wood from the tabletop—a piece of the cross he had cut too crookedly to use. Placing the end into the hearth, he waited for it to catch fire, watching the yellow flames.
“Wolf…you can’t be serious…”
He didn’t answer, aside from touching the makeshift torch to the table until it lit, then the chair his father had died in. He stepped to the curtains, to the bed, to the scrolls of their records in the open chest, to the wooden walls that still smelled of decay. His companion ran out coughing by the time he dropped the flaming stick onto the floor and closed the door. Smoke billowed out of the windows, and belched from the chimney, painting ghosts above the house. Standing back, Medvetis didn’t move until dusk, when all that was left was still smoldering, piles of ash marking the square plot of land he had always known. By then, he had retrieved his horse from the stables, a proud black Friesian stallion, saddlebags packed, the animal waiting less than patiently.
“You don’t have to do this.”
Medvetis pulled himself up on the horse’s back, looking down at the other man. He smiled, reaching down to clasp his hand. “It’s a bit too late for that, isn’t it?”
Surprised, he gripped the other’s calloused hand tightly, driving the splinters in a bit deeper. “That’s the first I’ve seen you smile in months, Wolf.”
“Take it as a good omen, then.” He shifted the bow on his back, then let him go, ignoring the stinging in his hands. “And wish me a good journey.”
Belatedly, he smiled in return, reaching over and slapping the horse’s rump. The animal whinnied, then jumped forward, reigned in for an easy canter down the trail.
“Safe journey, Wolf.”

No comments:

Post a Comment