From the North Downs: Chapter I

Ketilve stretched to unclip another blouse to the line that stretched between the eaves of the homestead and the bole of a nearby tree. A basket of neatly folded linens was at her feet, ready for ironing later in the day. Wosi had set out the irons beside the fire before he and Hayorda had left to chop wood for the winter’s fires. 

The air was crisp and cool, with a hint of rain to come. The faintest scent of smoke could be detected, perhaps from another homestead holding a bonfire some miles off. 

The sound of a horse approaching caught her attention, and she strained blue eyes to strain into the distance. A smile broke out on her face as she recognized the rider. 

“Brethilthor!” She greeted the ranger. His hair was as dark as it had been thirteen years ago when he had first made contact with the unconventional family. So much else had changed since that day; Ketilve was no longer a girl, but was now bordering on womanhood. Mama Jesmond’s hair had gone all grey. Womar had left the home to join a camp of Free Peoples within Fornost, determined to help keep the floods of dark creatures at bay. The presence of wights and barghests had always been reported in those dark fields, but ever had those reports increased in recent years. 

The ranger’s expression was grim as he slowed his mount to a halt before the young woman. 

“Ketilve. Are your parents present?” 

“Mama Jesmond is in the house. Should I...?” She trailed off with a sigh of understanding, leaving her basket to call into the house. “Mama Jesmond! Brethilthor’s here, he wants to see you!” 

The grey-haired woman stomped down the front steps, wiping her hands along her trousers. “Hi, Brethilthor! What brings you this way? Ranger business?” 

The ranger ever seemed to travel to and fro on mysterious business; she and her family were long used to it. 

“I’m afraid so.” The ranger acknowledged this with an inclination of his head. “Orcs are gathering and marching this way. We have evacuated the Kingsfell, all who would go. I advise you to gather up your family as soon as possible and head to safety. One of the ranger’s outposts, perhaps, or to Trestlebridge if you can find lodging there.”

“Orcs?” Jesmond wrapped both arms about her chest. “Are you sure? There have always been orcs lurking in the Wilds, but they wouldn’t dare...” 

The expression on the ranger’s face was one of unfathomable experience, and she shivered. 

“Very well. Ketilve, can you hitch up the wagon to Grisel? We’ll begin loading so’s when Hayorda and Wosi return we can leave off at once.” 

Ketilve stared from her mama to the ranger, blue eyes wide, before hopping off obediently to fetch the grey work mare from her stable. 

“Thank you for your warning.” Jesmond gestured toward the kitchen table. “Would you like---” 

But Brethilthor raised one hand to cut her off. “There’s no time, I’m afraid. I’ve many homesteaders to warn before the night is through.”

He bounded back out of the house, pulling himself onto his horse with a salute and then he disappeared down the road.