The plain of Estelech lies between the river Nonn, in the east, and the river Thyn, in the west. To the south lie the mountains of Calad, and to the north the mountains of Minothir. In this land dwelt many birds and beasts, but few men dwelt there. Scattered clans or tribes, nomadic peoples and wanderers.
In lands far to the south, a kingdom was founded by those who came from beyond the Western Sea. The name of this realm was Caldemar. Upon a time, king Kyartin of Caldemar sent forth his emissaries into the north to spy out the plains and hill country, and find suitable lands where folk might come to dwell. Of these emissaries the most renowned was Carnvas, son of Beronthir, who traveled the length of the river Nonn and settled with his people beyond the mountains of Minothir.
Here was the northern sea, and from the colonies thus founded ships put out and sailed west along the coast, until at length the land bent south, and following the coast the mariners came at last again to the bay of Pelagor, and the fiefdoms of Caldemar. To Carnvas was given all the lands north of the Minothir range, and there was trade and commerce between the High King and his servant.
In time Carnvas became a great lord of men, and all his land became known by his name. His sons were many and tall, his daughters fair. So Carnvas passed at length in peace to his fathers, and his heirs governed after him for many generations. As long as the Kingdom remained united and strong, there was always aid for the northern colonies. But at last came a time when the ships of the south tarried, and none returned to northern lands. It was then learned that Caldemar was divided, and the last king’s sons strove with each other for the throne. Therefore the land of Carnvas was left unaided, and they missed the goods and tidings of the south. But at last all knowledge of the High King of Caldemar dwindled to a mere memory, and the northern colonies were left to fend for themselves.
For a time the folk of Carnvas had dealings with the dwarven realm on the isle of Argenote. The sea, then, brought new strife, for across it out of the north came raiders and corsairs. They never knew of the High King, or else had forgotten what they did know, and looked only for easy plunder. So the people were truly left to stave off invasion as they could, for no help had they from king, nor ally, nor the heirs of Carnvas, and soon all voyaging ceased from their ports.
In the reign of Silmarlivan, nineteenth king of Caldemar, in the year five hundred and eighty two since the first king of men set foot on the shore, a son was born to the last heir of Carnvas. The father’s name was Beronlo, his wife Geata, and they called their son Corlo. Beronlo was a bold man, and sought to drive back the corsairs from the shores of his home. Many men would join his cause, and do deeds of great daring for its accomplishment. A time of peace at last came, and the raiders did not return for many years.
Beronlo built a village in the foothills of the Minothir mountains, and was recognized as a great chieftain, and many dwelt beneath the thatched roof of his hall. He was a skilled hunter and fisherman, and in his house meat was never scarce. But a summer of drought was followed by a bitter winter, and starvation threatened all the folk of the north, save only Beronlo. Then brigands and thieves roamed the wastes between the High Fells and the land of Carnvas.
One brigand was especially feared, and he was called Arowot. He had a great following, and came from the east. In the dark months of winter he led his horde even into land where Beronlo held sway. Then there was strife between the brigands of the distant east and the folk of the mountains. At the last Arowot came against Beronlo in the dead of night. The village was sacked and burned, and the people killed, for the brigands had no use for captives, and sought only stores of food and goods. Beronlo was slain before the doors of his house, and his wife also. Few indeed escaped that shameful slaughter of young and old, but those who did told of the meeting of the brigand war-lord, and the chieftain of the hill country. Arowot was said to be of great stature, and a fiendish gleam was in his eyes. They fought man to man, and Beronlo was slain.
Corlo, son of Beronlo, heir of Carnvas, lay hid in an empty barrel, and he struggled forth from it. But he was alone. The flames were roaring over his father’s hall, and he was still in the storeroom when the beem of the house fell with a crash into the hall. He escaped through a hole in the wall made by the falling beam, and watched as his village burned.
Corlo was in his tenth winter, and only a lad, but that night he swore vengeance for the death of his parents, and vowed to slay Arowot and all his horde. But first he must survive the winter, and find what was left in the village of food and gear. When the flames had died to a smouldering, the icy wind blew from the north and brought with it snow. Corlo salvaged what he could from the sack and the burning, yet only a knife and blankets could serve him then. Of food he had none, yet he had been taught by his father many arts of woodcraft and hunting, so in the morning he put on warm clothes and set out south into the Minothir mountains.
He set traps for the wild goats that roamed there, and he fished in holes cut out of the ice, and dwelt in caves like a wild beast, and thus made a living for himself until spring. When spring came, he descended the mountains and came at length to the burned village of his old home. It was deserted and empty, and the wind whistled through the ruins as he stood there. The boy set about looking once more for anything he might use. At the old smithy he managed to remove some of the rubble, and there he found an anvil, hammer and tongs, and the stone furnace was still to be used. He found also, near the broken charred timbers of his house, a broken sword. This had been his father’s and he wept when he knew it. But Corlo took the blade, broken a foot below the point, and took it to the forge. The blade had rusted little, for of old it came from the Dwarves of Argenote, in trade with the folk of Carnvas. Corlo had not the skill to reforge the blade, but he left it on an old shelf in the smithy, and dwelt there.
At a time, Corlo returned from his fishing in the brook nearby and to his astonishment, found the tracks of a man about the forge. He followed the tracks far into the woods to the west, and at last came to a hill. There was a stone archway in the hill, and a wooden door; it was a barrow of sorts, and the tracks led into the doorway. Then he found a poplar tree with thick foliage, and climbed it that he might see what passed and not be seen. It was dark before a man came from the door. He looked to the tree and perceived the boy hidden there.
‘Come, friend.’ Said the man. ‘If it is food or fire that thou would have, I might give it to thee.’ Corlo descended and entered the stone archway, for indeed he was hungry, and the man seemed not like a thief, nor an Elf taking man’s form, as he thought might dwell in such a place.
Fire glinted on the walls of the wide room. The table was of wood, the stools also, and the beams supporting the roof. On one side there were shelves with bundles and sacks set upon them, and below, barrels of stores. On the other side of the room was the hearth with the bright flames licking against the stones of the chimney.
‘From what country cometh thee? What is thy house, or wilt thou say?’ The man asked. He was old, his grey beard was tipped with white, and he stooped when he held not his walking stick. The boy was content to eat his fill of stew and say little, yet his host was inquisitive, and he supposed the man had a right to be. Indeed, a kindly man, and Corlo doubted if his father’s name would be remembered in this land. Beronlo was not a great lord as his sires had been, yet had held sway over the foothills of Minothir.
‘Corlo is my name, sir, and my father was Beronlo, of the house of Carnvas. My mother was Geata, yet they were slain.’ The man’s eye’s showed surprise.
‘Thy father is known to me,’ The man answered, ‘He was the guardian of all the hill country, and I know his name, for his deeds of valor against the men of Strausdon will long be remembered by those whom he led.’
‘Did he in truth lead thee? Didst thou strive against the raiders with my father?’
‘Aye,’ said the man. ‘T’was years ago, and since then brigands have come out of the east, and, as was told me before the snows had melted, Beronlo was slain by Arowot, chief of the wild hordes that roam the wastes. Airnin is my name, and I am of the tribe of Beronthir, even as thou art; for in years long gone, Carnvas was the son of Beronthir. I have lived in this place for long years, even since the corsairs ceased to return to this land.’ Then Corlo was silent. This Airnin was a friend, and a timely one at that.
‘Are there others who yet find strength to live in the wilderness?’ Asked Corlo.
‘Aye,’ said Airnin. ‘Some who dwell to the west, a village near the coast, I think. They are few and without a leader, but there are others who dwell to the south. Beyond the Minothir mountains there is a city, it is said, west of the Nonn. I knew many who fled that way when our people abandoned the sea, but I have received no word from them since.’
Corlo dwelt there with Airnin for a long while, and they spent much time in the gathering of food, but they went back to the old hall of Beronlo, and then Corlo desired to take from its place his father’s blade, and to reforge it for his own use, for ever Airnin would warn of the return of the marauding bands from the east, and Corlo knew he would have to learn the use of weapons ere the year was past. He was only a child, but he knew nonetheless he must stay focused on his survival, though he was still grieving for his parents. Now as the two rummaged through the burnt out ruin for whatever they could find of value, they came across the hilt of Beronlo’s sword, and Airnin spoke to Corlo as follows:
‘Son of Beronlo, let us take thy father’s blade, and go to the forge, and let us make from that fine blade a lance for the hunting of beasts and the slaying of foes, for I see that this blade is too fine to leave on a shelf, and though thou art young, the time will come when thou would be duly served by a weapon in thy hand and the skill to use it.’
So Corlo and Airnin took from its place the broken blade, and set about to start a fire in the great forge, and they stoked it with wood hauled from the ruins, and Airnin took the hammer, and Corlo cut with his knife an ashe staff from the forest, and then taking the hilt and lower half of the sword, they laid it in the fire, and the flames burned to tremendous heat as they added more dry wood, and using the bellows brought from Airnin’s burrow, and taking the lower half of the blade, heated as it was, they folded it over and created a socket,with hammer and anvil they beat it into shape and forged it onto the remaining upper half of the blade. Taking the end of the staff, they placed it in the socket, and taking the staff, the carved it to fit securely in the socket. Then, heating the metal of the hilt in the furnace, they beat it into a knob on the other end of the staff. The staff was six feet in length, and in diameter nearly three inches. The knob at the foot of the staff acted as a weight, and the blade, newly beaten into place, was about five inches at its base, smoothed and shaped with rough stones, and narrowed to a point with sharp beaten edges.
Now Corlo took his spear, used it also in the hunting of game, laying snares in the hills for the wild goats and deer that roamed there, and slaying them with his spear. Under Airnin’s instruction he learned to make clothing from the hides of his game, and to work metal in the furnace, and more of the beasts and the forest than he ever knew before, and many other useful things, for Airnin was aged and wise in all useful knowledge. When winter came again, they stocked the cellar of the barrow with stores of food and wood for the fire, and tanned hides which Airnin had for blankets. The leaves of autumn fell, and the snow fell thick and heavy, so that all the woodland was silent, muffled in it.
By day they would go out and find what food they could, and by night they would sit by the fire, and Airnin would tell tales of the old days when the heirs of Carnvas ruled the land, when there was feasting and trade and war and peace, and a lord of the house of Beronthir to govern all the coastlands. He told of the legends of Caldemar, far to the south, of the ancient kings and the wars they waged, the golden mead halls and the mighty fortresses built by Areton the Great. Corlo wished to know more of Areton, the king who won from the ancient peoples vast lands for his clan, and founded the old kingdom.
‘Airnin?’ Corlo said, as they sat by the fire and whittled spoons out of wood.
‘Yes, lad, what is it?’ The old man answered. Corlo was hesitant, for his question was, to his own mind, a strange one. Nonetheless, he asked it.
‘Who were the ancient peoples?’ Airnin stopped whittling, and was at first silent.
‘The dwarves are an ancient people, but there are others…Or there were, in ages past. The satyres are said to wander the vale of Weilduin across the Nonn, and I have heard that there were others. But Areton was the first man to set foot on these shores. Even the beasts opposed him, and it is said the ancient peoples were in league with the birds and the beasts.’ Corlo heard the wind howling over the barrow, and he felt a shiver go down his spine, for who knew what still roamed those woods?
‘When man ceases to haunt the land, they that dwelt here of old take their place once again.’ Airnin had seemed to read Corlo’s thoughts. ‘Fear not the night, nor what traverses the forest. Men are scarce here now, but it is only in recent years we have decreased so much and the ancient ones are slow to return.’ They were silent. The wind howled over the hills, and whispered in the trees. Airnin stoked the fire, and they slipped into deep sleep.
Thus did Corlo live for four years since he came first to the home of Airnin, and he grew tall and strong. He wandered lonely trails, sought out the highest peaks of the mountains, and searched out the lands west and east of his home for tens of miles, yet never straying out of sight from the Minothir Range. He never said anything of it, yet whenever he came across an old camp sight of some nomad, traveler, or brigand, he would remember that night in his father’s hall, for there were few folk in those wild northlands, and those of the east were under the dominion of ruthless warlords and chieftains. He knew he would someday find Arrowot, and then he would avenge his father and mother. He learned all that land well, and if ever there were strange occurrences in the wild, he was aware of it.
At length there came a time when beasts stirred uneasily, and often while hunting he saw a doe raise her nose to the eastern wind, and guide her fawn away. Bears began to go into the hills for their winter slumber earlier than usual, and flocks of seabirds took flight for the south before the first leaves had fallen. There was uneasiness, and beasts of all sort were fleeing those lands to west and south. Then Airnin, stooped with age and beginning to go blind, told him they must make for the settlements far to the west, for Airnin believed the omens were not good, for, as he said, nothing good comes from the Teeth, which are the mountains that lay far to the east. There were yet men loyal to the house of Carnvas by the coast, and Corlo would surely grow to be a leader of men, for he was wise and strong for his years, well versed in the ways of the wild, keen of eye and silent in step.
It was in the first days of autumn that year that the two set off west for the sea, taking with them dried meat and fruit for travel, and whatever necessary things they could carry with them. It was at least fifty miles to the nearest coastal settlement, and it was rough hill country between the mountains and the sea. The pine clad hills were the abode of many wild beasts, and few folk had ever lived in that region.
It took the pair three days to make it through the hills, and when they reached the rocky northern coast, they set off along it until they found a fortified village that sat on a low cliff and overlooked the sea. Waves crashed against the rock, and barnacles grew on the north wall. The walls were of upright poles, the foundations were of stone, taken from the cliffs, and large slabs of rock were piled on either side of the wall. The village roofs were thatched with hay. The wooden gate stood open in the southern wall, and the people there were trading their goods and selling supplies to the men who fished out on the waves. There was farmland south of the village, goats grazing in the pastures, though the wheat and barley fields lay barren. Children played in the street and on the sand dunes nearby, and small fishing boats plied the coastal waters.
The people here were like Corlo’s own folk: Tall, dark eyed, and they spoke in the same dialect as he. There were some among them, however, with golden hair, while his own people were dark haired. They were perhaps descendants of the men of Strousdon, who long ago invaded this country. People looked at them curiously when first they entered the gate, for seldom did they receive visitors. They were clad in rugged attire, all of leather and goatskin, but otherwise they were not unlike these people. They met a guard in the market where the people had their carts and booths and goods to sell, and Airnin asked him where they might find the master of the town.
‘In his Hall.’ said the man. ‘The Ram Hall, we call it, for above the door thou wiltl behold a great set of horns, even as those born by the rams that dwell yonder,’ he gestured vaguely toward the southern hills. ‘It is just up the path.’
Airnin thanked him, and they went up the cobbled street until they came to the long, wide hall. It was of wooden beams and stone masonry, with a thatched roof and the two massive ram’s horns fastened above the door. They were attached to a wooden beam, the central beam of the hall, and they were twice as large as any horns Corlo had ever seen on a ram. Airnin instructed Corlo not to mention his father until they knew that these men held him in favor, and to leave his spear by the door, but to keep his knife. He then called out for the warden of the door. After a little while footsteps came along from inside, and the door was unlatched and opened.
They were met by a man who guided them through the hall; they passed through the entry, then the mead hall, a long room with tables on either side and a long narrow stone fire pit in the center, with great cauldrons suspended by chains from the rafters and iron grills laid over the stone on which was prepared the meat for the feasts. There were a few young women preparing that evening’s meal even as the man led them through.
They entered at last into a wide chamber with two great windows in it, one facing north toward the sea, the other facing west over the dunes. There was a great wooden chair at the far end of the chamber, in which sat a grey haired, grey bearded man, robed in dull grey and brown, a fine red cloak with silver broach about his shoulders, but with no ornament upon his head; old, yet unbent, and strong. Before him was a wooden table on which were many scrolls of hide with writing on them, and a pen and ink as well. There was also a young woman with golden hair as many of these folk had, holding a small box or casket in her hands, as if about to go.
‘There are travelers here who desire an audience, lord.’ Said the man who had led them through the hall.
‘Enter.’ The man commanded, and Corlo and Airnin entered. Their guide bowed and the grey haired man nodded, saying to the other, ‘Leave us, we will talk in private... You also, Sigrid, we will speak of these things later.’ The young woman took her casket and followed the man out of the chamber.
‘Tell me,’ said the master of the village, ‘what is thy business here, and tell me thy names.’ Airnin leaned on his staff, his old eyes assessing the man.
‘I am Airnin, and the lad is Corlo. We come from the foothills to the east. We are hunters of beast and bird, and we have dwelt years in that region, where the heirs of Carnvas have long made their abode. Now, as winter comes on and I am old beyond comfort in a hole in the wilderness, we set out to seek some folk with whom I may live out my days. There is no one in that country now, for they were all driven off by the brigands of the east.’ The man nodded and looked into Corlo’s eyes. Corlo looked back, meeting the cold gaze of those sea-blue eyes. At length the man looked back at Airnin.
‘Of Carnvas I have heard, as have all the house of Beronthir, if only in tales of long ago. I am Erolech, lord of this hall, master of the village, and of old my folk came from the south. Thou art welcome in this region, and we welcome thee and thy help, if thou art skillful in the hunt. We have been driven to hunt in the forests, far south, for the fishing has been unfruitful of late, and the crops were reduced by wild herds of swine that came out of the east. The ice is packing too soon, so the boat men tell me. Indeed, we followed the swine to hunt them, my eldest son was slain by a wild boar far inland, and we are yet lamenting his death.’ He was silent, stroking his chin in grim consideration.
‘A foul wind blows from the east, and these things we also have perceived.’ Airnin said. The old man seemed weary, thinking of these things, and his countenance fell with the memory of his son. He looked into Corlo’s eyes once more, and again, Corlo looked back.
‘But tell me, young one, who’s son art thou? For there is a peculiar air about thee, and thy eyes bespeak of one of noble lineage and high ancestry. Tell me, and do not keep silent.’ Corlo received Airnin’s approval with a glance, and answered.
‘I am Corlo, son of Beronlo, heir to the house of Carnvas, descended of old from Beronlo, by royal decree, steward of all lands north of Minothir, west of the River Nonn, and east of the Bay of Aisill. By law, servant to all who’s fealty is to the King of Caldemar. All these things I am, lord, and thy humble servant, as long as I dwell in thy house and partake of thy bread.’
For a long while Erolech was silent. But at length he nodded slowly, and smiled, for the words of Corlo were known to him, for the heirs of Carnvas had long recited them when they succeeded their fathers, and Erolech was a learned man.
‘Come, ancient words and long forgotten princes bear little fruit in these days, for we are simple people, and we know few things that were handed down of old. To Caldemar I give little thought, for if a king there still is, we of the north hardly concern him, and so why should he concern us? But as an honored guest thou wilt be in my hall. A chamber shall be made ready for thee, Corlo, son of Beronlo, and for Airnin also.’ He arose from his seat, and indeed, he was a tall man, and his cloak fell heavily about him, and upon his belt was a short sword, two feet in length, and in his hand was a heavy staff with a carved ram’s head upon it. ‘Sigrid,’ He called his daughter, and she came through the doorway once more. ‘Show these two to a room befitting them and that meets their need. They shall be in attendance for the evening meal, and they may wish for basins of water and new clothes. This one,’ he gestured to Corlo, ‘Is a very honored guest, for his house is one well known to me, and his sires were very noble indeed.’
She showed them to a room off the main hall, and brought them garments and basins with water to wash with, and anything else they required.
Now Corlo and Airnin dwelt there with Erolech for a long while, and in that time Corlo trekked deep into the hills with the huntsmen of the village, in search of swine, goats, deer, and other game. He taught the folk of the coast to stalk, lay snares, and slay beasts for food. He trained the dogs of Erolech’s house to track for him, and taught Erolech’s son, Sigurth, all he knew of beast and bird. Sigurth, in turn, took Corlo out upon the waves in a boat, and taught him to fish and to sail. Rumor came out of the east, and bespoke of evil to come. Strange men were seen prowling like wild beasts beyond the hills; travelers came more frequently, not speaking of what they had seen, and moving on. Erolech was uneasy, and Corlo began to scout the eastern hills for any sign of imminent danger. Marauders may come seeking easy plunder, and Corlo wished for ample warning if they came upon the village. Through the winter and into the spring, Corlo hunted and slew game for Erolech, and before long he had grown in favor with him, and was attending all of his councils.
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