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Description
--41--

When Nathaniel woke the next morning, he thought for a moment that he lay on the floor of the inn after a night serving the King and his court. A second shrill whistle a moment later dispelled any such illusions.

"Wake up ya stinking woodworms, there's work to do!"

Nicholas suppressed a groan as he rolled over on his hard wooden platform and checked that the ladder was clear before climbing down past three bunks below his, one of which was on the floor. He had to hurry into place at the back of the line, where he shuffled along with the men from his room, down the hall past the other three rooms--one empty, two with lines of their own that fell into place behind Nathaniel. The men staggered down the stairs one by one, swaying like drunkards even though nothing but foul-tasting water had filled the pitchers the night before, and crossed the room through the gap in the two rows of tables and out the door.

Not a single patch of light showed in the darkness outside. When Nathaniel stumbled, a hand came to rest on his shoulder, but a huffed, "Get the other," let him know that the gestures was not out of concern, but that he was supposed to do the same to the man in front of him. The chain of men inched through the inky blackness away from the buildings and made toward the only pinprick of light in the distance.

Nathaniel guessed that he had marched a good half-mile before they reached the source, which was actually quite a bit more than a pinprick. A roaring fire shone through the gaps in the wooden walls of a large barn and illuminated the surrounding forest. As the line reached the building, the men broke apart and the first two pulled open the massive wooden doors so that everyone could enter.

Nathaniel stepped into one of the strangest buildings he had ever seen. What had looked like a whole barn from the front was really just half a barn with no wall or roof on the other side. Instead, ladders, scaffolds, ropes, and pulleys crisscrossed the open space in front of three layers of lofts. The lowest level looked like one large workshop, with axes, knives, and strange sharp objects that even he had never seen before hanging from wooden pegs in the wall.

Most of the men took their tools and walked around the fire, back out into the dark forest, but a few--two men in addition to the two Nathaniel had followed the day before--separated from the group and mounted the scaffolding. Before he had a chance to figure out which way he was supposed to go, an all-too familiar voice called over the crowd, "Where's that little Gnat? Wherever you are, get over here!"

Doing his best to suppress his annoyance, Nathaniel made his way toward the large, yellow-haired man, who had planted himself just under the edge of the barn roof with his back to the fire. The light behind him was so bright that all Nathaniel could see was a dark silhouette.

"That's right Gnat, flit this way," the man called as Nathaniel drew close. "You'll be working with Behn, the man you sit next to and sleep across from in the bunk house. The two of you have to cut down a tree, get it to the pits, and split it by dawn or there'll be no food for the pair of you until tonight. Got that?"

Before Nathaniel could reply, Behn grabbed the back of his belt and dragged him away into the darkness.

"What was that for?" Nathaniel demanded as soon as they were out of the big man's hearing range, more to be able to speak at last than because he was angry.

Behn replied with a short shush. "Don't talk, work," he hissed.

"But I don't know a thing about this place," Nathaniel whispered back. He tripped on a root, shot his arm out into the darkness, and caught Behn's shoulder.

"Catch on pretty quick," Behn muttered.

Nathaniel was running out of patience. "What are we even doing?"

"Chopping trees."

"With what?"

"Axes."

"I don't have one."

With no warning, Behn stopped. Nathaniel walked right into him so hard that their heads knocked together; in the darkness, he had not seen Behn turn around.

Behn hissed with pain. "Woodsmen need axes," he snapped, rapping the knob of his own on Nathaniel's shoulder. "Get one."

"Go--back?"

Behn shoved him in response.

"But I won't know the way back to you!"

There was no reply. Sighing in exasperation, Nathaniel turned back to the barn, but to his surprise, there was a man right behind him with an axe in each hand.

"Thanks," Nathaniel said in surprise.

The man brushed past him, slapping the handle into Nathaniel's chest as he went and muttering under his breath, "Last time."

Nathaniel turned his head to retort, but the man was already lost in the darkness.

"Move," Behn said.

With Nathaniel's hand on his shoulder, Behn led the way through the forest of stumps and trunks, deeper into the darkness. Nathaniel had expected his eyes to adjust to the dark quickly, but just when he thought he could see a tree up ahead, Behn stopped and told him that the tree was, in fact, right in front of them.

Nathaniel blinked in surprise. The tree was not nearly as thick around as those he had seen the day before. He reached out to feel the bark, and a great slab feel away.

"It's...dead."

"'Course."

"I thought--"

"Firewood."

Nathaniel heard twigs crunching beneath Behn's feet, and a moment later, there was a mighty thud from the other side of the tree. Without even a grunt, he pulled out the axe and struck again.

"Start."

Nathaniel stared at the tree, only as wide as a berry basket and barely discernable in the darkness, then down at the axe in his hand. As he turned it over, he saw the dark haft against his lighter hands, but he could not make out his individual fingers, or even where the wooden haft met metal head of the axe.

After his sixth chop, Behn sighed and came back around the tree. He tugged Nathaniel's axe forward and rested the metal head against the tree trunk, then waited for the younger man to movie into a proper position.

He left without further instructions, but at least he had given Nathaniel a place to start. While Behn chopped away, Nathaniel probed the tree trunk with the end of the axe to feel how big it was, then ran the blade up and down a bit, frowning in concentration as he tried to feel through the wood where Behn's blows were landing. Finally, he took a small step forward, swung his axe back and forth against the wood to check the distance, then pulled back and swung with all his might.

The thud his axe made was dull, a drop of water in a barrel compared to Behn's rapid succession of blows. Behn paused just long enough to cough or laugh--Nathaniel was not sure which--and by the time he swung again, so had Nathaniel. The strength was still uneven, and Nathaniel could tell that he had not hit the same spot.

"Wait 'till you're alone."

That was all that he could take. With a low growl of frustration that he hoped the yellow-haired man would not appear in time to hear, he drew back and swung again. And again. Again and Again. Over and over, until, finally, his blows started to line up, even in the dark, but still his hacks sounded different than Behn's. Then, suddenly, he realized that he was the only one chopping.

"Behn?"

"Cut right."

Nathaniel's temper flared.

"I've never done this before," he snapped. "The local Lord kept my family supplied. I split logs and broke down kindling, but I never had to fell trees, and certainly not in the dark."

"Got logs from us," Behn spat.

"I never heard any such--"

"Shhh!" Nat gritted his teeth, but no silence followed--the forest was too full of unseen woodcutters. "Don't talk 'bout fam'ly."

"Why?" Nathaniel demanded, a little frightened. Had he said something wrong, something that might lead the yellow-haired man back to the inn?

"Just don't." And with that, Behn took Nathaniel's axe again and redirected his focus. "Which way's th' grain?"

Such a ridiculous question! "Up and down, of course."

"Why work with th' grain?"

"Because it's harder to go against it or across it."

Behn swung the axe toward the tree, mimicking in slow motion Nathaniel's frustrated blows. "That's you."

All at once, he understood. "I'm striking straight flat across the grain," he mumbled, feeling like an idiot instead of an almost-of-age carpenter. "I ought to angle it a bit, shouldn't I?"

Behn released his grip without a word and retreated once again, and the next time Nathaniel struck, the axe made a satisfying thud more like Behn's. He sent a chip flying under his next blow, and felt an odd satisfaction. It was such mean work compared to what he was used to, but at least he was doing it right, and at least he had a place to stay, and at least he was alive and working instead of hanging from the Fortress walls.

Before he had gotten very far, the tree began to wobble.

"Falling!" Behn called in the loudest voice Nathaniel had heard all day, and he only just managed to scramble back in time before a chorus of voices from the darkness around him called "Away!" and Behn gave the tree one final whack to send it over. The crashing of the tree drowned out Nathaniel's growl of frustration.

Description
--41--

When Nathaniel woke the next morning, he thought for a moment that he lay on the floor of the inn after a night serving the King and his court. A second shrill whistle a moment later dispelled any such illusions.

"Wake up ya stinking woodworms, there's work to do!"

Nicholas suppressed a groan as he rolled over on his hard wooden platform and checked that the ladder was clear before climbing down past three bunks below his, one of which was on the floor. He had to hurry into place at the back of the line, where he shuffled along with the men from his room, down the hall past the other three rooms--one empty, two with lines of their own that fell into place behind Nathaniel. The men staggered down the stairs one by one, swaying like drunkards even though nothing but foul-tasting water had filled the pitchers the night before, and crossed the room through the gap in the two rows of tables and out the door.

Not a single patch of light showed in the darkness outside. When Nathaniel stumbled, a hand came to rest on his shoulder, but a huffed, "Get the other," let him know that the gestures was not out of concern, but that he was supposed to do the same to the man in front of him. The chain of men inched through the inky blackness away from the buildings and made toward the only pinprick of light in the distance.

Nathaniel guessed that he had marched a good half-mile before they reached the source, which was actually quite a bit more than a pinprick. A roaring fire shone through the gaps in the wooden walls of a large barn and illuminated the surrounding forest. As the line reached the building, the men broke apart and the first two pulled open the massive wooden doors so that everyone could enter.

Nathaniel stepped into one of the strangest buildings he had ever seen. What had looked like a whole barn from the front was really just half a barn with no wall or roof on the other side. Instead, ladders, scaffolds, ropes, and pulleys crisscrossed the open space in front of three layers of lofts. The lowest level looked like one large workshop, with axes, knives, and strange sharp objects that even he had never seen before hanging from wooden pegs in the wall.

Most of the men took their tools and walked around the fire, back out into the dark forest, but a few--two men in addition to the two Nathaniel had followed the day before--separated from the group and mounted the scaffolding. Before he had a chance to figure out which way he was supposed to go, an all-too familiar voice called over the crowd, "Where's that little Gnat? Wherever you are, get over here!"

Doing his best to suppress his annoyance, Nathaniel made his way toward the large, yellow-haired man, who had planted himself just under the edge of the barn roof with his back to the fire. The light behind him was so bright that all Nathaniel could see was a dark silhouette.

"That's right Gnat, flit this way," the man called as Nathaniel drew close. "You'll be working with Behn, the man you sit next to and sleep across from in the bunk house. The two of you have to cut down a tree, get it to the pits, and split it by dawn or there'll be no food for the pair of you until tonight. Got that?"

Before Nathaniel could reply, Behn grabbed the back of his belt and dragged him away into the darkness.

"What was that for?" Nathaniel demanded as soon as they were out of the big man's hearing range, more to be able to speak at last than because he was angry.

Behn replied with a short shush. "Don't talk, work," he hissed.

"But I don't know a thing about this place," Nathaniel whispered back. He tripped on a root, shot his arm out into the darkness, and caught Behn's shoulder.

"Catch on pretty quick," Behn muttered.

Nathaniel was running out of patience. "What are we even doing?"

"Chopping trees."

"With what?"

"Axes."

"I don't have one."

With no warning, Behn stopped. Nathaniel walked right into him so hard that their heads knocked together; in the darkness, he had not seen Behn turn around.

Behn hissed with pain. "Woodsmen need axes," he snapped, rapping the knob of his own on Nathaniel's shoulder. "Get one."

"Go--back?"

Behn shoved him in response.

"But I won't know the way back to you!"

There was no reply. Sighing in exasperation, Nathaniel turned back to the barn, but to his surprise, there was a man right behind him with an axe in each hand.

"Thanks," Nathaniel said in surprise.

The man brushed past him, slapping the handle into Nathaniel's chest as he went and muttering under his breath, "Last time."

Nathaniel turned his head to retort, but the man was already lost in the darkness.

"Move," Behn said.

With Nathaniel's hand on his shoulder, Behn led the way through the forest of stumps and trunks, deeper into the darkness. Nathaniel had expected his eyes to adjust to the dark quickly, but just when he thought he could see a tree up ahead, Behn stopped and told him that the tree was, in fact, right in front of them.

Nathaniel blinked in surprise. The tree was not nearly as thick around as those he had seen the day before. He reached out to feel the bark, and a great slab feel away.

"It's...dead."

"'Course."

"I thought--"

"Firewood."

Nathaniel heard twigs crunching beneath Behn's feet, and a moment later, there was a mighty thud from the other side of the tree. Without even a grunt, he pulled out the axe and struck again.

"Start."

Nathaniel stared at the tree, only as wide as a berry basket and barely discernable in the darkness, then down at the axe in his hand. As he turned it over, he saw the dark haft against his lighter hands, but he could not make out his individual fingers, or even where the wooden haft met metal head of the axe.

After his sixth chop, Behn sighed and came back around the tree. He tugged Nathaniel's axe forward and rested the metal head against the tree trunk, then waited for the younger man to movie into a proper position.

He left without further instructions, but at least he had given Nathaniel a place to start. While Behn chopped away, Nathaniel probed the tree trunk with the end of the axe to feel how big it was, then ran the blade up and down a bit, frowning in concentration as he tried to feel through the wood where Behn's blows were landing. Finally, he took a small step forward, swung his axe back and forth against the wood to check the distance, then pulled back and swung with all his might.

The thud his axe made was dull, a drop of water in a barrel compared to Behn's rapid succession of blows. Behn paused just long enough to cough or laugh--Nathaniel was not sure which--and by the time he swung again, so had Nathaniel. The strength was still uneven, and Nathaniel could tell that he had not hit the same spot.

"Wait 'till you're alone."

That was all that he could take. With a low growl of frustration that he hoped the yellow-haired man would not appear in time to hear, he drew back and swung again. And again. Again and Again. Over and over, until, finally, his blows started to line up, even in the dark, but still his hacks sounded different than Behn's. Then, suddenly, he realized that he was the only one chopping.

"Behn?"

"Cut right."

Nathaniel's temper flared.

"I've never done this before," he snapped. "The local Lord kept my family supplied. I split logs and broke down kindling, but I never had to fell trees, and certainly not in the dark."

"Got logs from us," Behn spat.

"I never heard any such--"

"Shhh!" Nat gritted his teeth, but no silence followed--the forest was too full of unseen woodcutters. "Don't talk 'bout fam'ly."

"Why?" Nathaniel demanded, a little frightened. Had he said something wrong, something that might lead the yellow-haired man back to the inn?

"Just don't." And with that, Behn took Nathaniel's axe again and redirected his focus. "Which way's th' grain?"

Such a ridiculous question! "Up and down, of course."

"Why work with th' grain?"

"Because it's harder to go against it or across it."

Behn swung the axe toward the tree, mimicking in slow motion Nathaniel's frustrated blows. "That's you."

All at once, he understood. "I'm striking straight flat across the grain," he mumbled, feeling like an idiot instead of an almost-of-age carpenter. "I ought to angle it a bit, shouldn't I?"

Behn released his grip without a word and retreated once again, and the next time Nathaniel struck, the axe made a satisfying thud more like Behn's. He sent a chip flying under his next blow, and felt an odd satisfaction. It was such mean work compared to what he was used to, but at least he was doing it right, and at least he had a place to stay, and at least he was alive and working instead of hanging from the Fortress walls.

Before he had gotten very far, the tree began to wobble.

"Falling!" Behn called in the loudest voice Nathaniel had heard all day, and he only just managed to scramble back in time before a chorus of voices from the darkness around him called "Away!" and Behn gave the tree one final whack to send it over. The crashing of the tree drowned out Nathaniel's growl of frustration.