GoCorral

Chapter 1 – Tereman (Continued)

Tereman looked at the animal. It had a brown coat with a white region along its back. At least he thought it was brown. He could barely see in the dark. Tereman felt his shoulders. The left shoulder was fine. Bruised from the kick, but he could feel nothing worse. The right shoulder ached. He hoped it wasn’t broken from the bite. His bronze pauldron had done its job but would need repair. He would see to the repair in the morning, but his shoulder might need attention now.

Tereman had to get a better look. He retrieved a torch from his pack along with his fire starting kit. He got the torch going and stuck the butt into the ground. With a small light he removed his right pauldron from his shoulder. He felt his shoulder through his tunic cloth. Bruised for sure, but his clavicle seemed in one piece. He removed his other pauldron and unbuckled his breastplate. He pulled the tunic aside and looked at the bruised flesh. The skin had torn a bit in places, but nothing that needed stitching. Tereman relaxed. He wouldn’t need to get out his stitching kit.

Out of danger for now, Tereman could set up his camp for the night. Not next to the Mare and the deer corpses though. He gathered his things and walked half a stade upriver from the fight. From his pack he pulled out his bedroll. A fire would be nice, but it was too late to gather wood. He removed his greaves and sandals before slipping into his bedroll on the soft ground by the river. Reaching into his pack once more he got out his knit cap and put it on to fend off the cold from the river. Finally, he retrieved a sack with the rest of the loaf of bread he’d brought on this trip. It was almost completely stale now.

Tereman ripped off a piece of bread and put the rest back in the sack. He preferred the fire for hot food. Especially with that deer. He should’ve cooked some of it before using it for bait. He would handle that in the morning. For now, he chewed his hard bread and thought of what lay ahead of him. This was his last patrol as a slave. What would he do as a free man?

Tereman returned to the city of Dalleer holding a deer haunch and the head of a Thracian Mare. He walked by the line of farmers bringing their goods into the city to sell. Tereman was a town guard, so he could enter without inspection or taxes.

When he’d awoken, Tereman returned to the Thracian Mare and the deer. Using his knife he’d cut the hind legs off the deer. He walked back to his campsite where he gathered wood and moss to start a fire. With the fire going he made a tripod for cooking one of the legs by stabbing it with three branches. The branches were angled downwards and he pushed them into the ground as well. This allowed the deer’s haunch to be suspended over the fire as it cooked. The meat was unevenly cooked with this method, but it was quick.

While the meat cooked Tereman cut the Thracian Mare’s head off. Of course, the guard would believe him if he said it was slain. The people of Dalleer always preferred proof. A head mounted by the gallows would let everyone know that the northern river ford was safe to cross once more.

Tereman deconstructed the tripod when the deer began to smoke on the bottom. He cut the burned flesh off. He tossed it into the fire and held his palms facing up in front of him.

Tereman prayed, “Hear me, O Zeus. If ever I have burnt offerings for you, grant me strength of character as I enter my new life. I offer you the sacrifice of a deer.”

With the gods satisfied, Tereman tucked into his breakfast. A leg of venison was a rich meal to end his servitude with. The bloody, uncooked portion he sliced off and stored in his food bag. Tereman dragged the rest of the deer over and set it on the side of the fire. He didn’t know how to properly butcher it. He could carry it to Dalleer, but his shoulders were aching and could use a rest. Zeus’s prayer could heal his shoulders instantly, but that seemed a waste to Tereman. His conscience told him to only use that power in service of the gods, not himself.

After breakfast Tereman pulled out his field repair kit. He placed his dented right pauldron against the smooth stone. He raised the hammer and beat the metal back into shape. His shoulder winced on each blow but the work needed to be done. Tereman checked the fit as he went. When it was snug once more he finished. After the pauldron came his sword and dagger. A few runs along his sharpening stone fixed that.

Tereman walked up to Dalleer’s eastern gate. He saw that Philip and Denara were working today. He called to them, “Hey there! Look what I caught!” He raised the deer haunch and Thracian Mare head in his hands.

The pair of guards turned from the farmer they were checking in. Denara spoke first, “Wow! Look at that deer! Gonna eat well tonight!”

Philip whistled, “So it was a Thracian after all?”

“Indeed it was,” said Tereman.

Tereman set the haunch down in the dirt by the gate. He quickly grabbed the Mare’s mouth and moved it as a mock puppet. He snarled in an artificial voice, “Watch out Philip! I’m going to eat you!”

Philip laughed but Denara glared. She said, “Cut that out, Tereman. You’re scaring the people.”

Tereman turned around and saw the line looking in fear at the head. He dropped his hold on the horse’s fanged mouth. He raised it over his own head and shouted to the line of farmers, “Fear not! The Thracian Mare is dead! The northern ford is safe to cross once more!” He paused for a moment, waiting for a response. Hearing nothing, Tereman added a, “Huzzah!” Once he had the people clapped. Philip whistled again and a few of the folk cheered. Tereman basked in the attention.

He turned back to Philip and Denara. “Today’s my last day. I’m a free man after this patrol.”

Philip said, “Congratulations! We should go out for drinks!”

Denara said, “Yes. And talk to the captain. Some news that came in while you were out might interest you.”

“That I shall,” said Tereman. He gave the two of them a quick salute before throwing the Thracian Mare head on his shoulder. He swiftly realized that was a painful mistake, but he went with it. With his other hand Tereman picked up the deer leg, then he strolled into the city.

Dalleer was the largest city of Cimmeria. It had been founded by dwarves long ago. Lord Björn had ruled the city for centuries in the name of the dwarven king, Yentbern. Tereman had never seen King Yentbern, but Lord Björn walked the streets frequently. He loved his city more than any of its citizens. If a problem was small it could be brought to the Lord on his walks without even needing to go to court. Lord Björn would not stop, but answer and judge as he strolled.

Tereman’s home in Dalleer for the last ten years had been the town guard barracks. The contract of his sale had been ten years of service. Those ten years were now up. And ending with what others may have thought was a suicide mission. A Thracian Mare usually required a team of ten to ensure no one died while slaying it. Tereman hadn’t even needed to use the power of Zeus.

Tereman was unsure why he was so gifted at killing. If he had to guess, it was practice. The other guards came late to the profession. Practicing with their weapons in the off-season with the militia gave you some skill. Tereman didn’t just practice on the weekends every three months. He was sold to the guard when he was ten. He’d been swinging a sword and shooting a bow every day ever since. He could hit the targets in the guard’s practice yard blindfolded at this point. With practice came skill, and Tereman was one of the most skilled.

He would miss the guard. He wasn’t sure what would come next for him, but he had decided to leave. Captain Logain had offered to let Tereman stay, but he had declined. Working for pay would be nice. But some of the people in Dalleer would always view him as a freed slave. A fresh start was needed to be a person.

Tereman had spent his first eight years in the guard on street patrol. Initially paired with other guards. A scrawny ten year-old can have a badge, but a drunk fool won’t listen. Better to have someone with actual muscle. Strangely, Tereman always had a way to reason with the drunk fools of Dalleer. He preferred to speak with people and come to a peaceful solution rather than pull out his club to raise bruises before conclusions. Speaking also allowed him to solve conflicts by himself rather than rely on the threat of violence that ultimately would be enforced by his patrol partner.

Tereman entered the barracks. Captain Logain would be in his office at the back. Tereman dropped the Thracian head off at the front reception desk first. Karl was working the desk today.

“Hey! Get that thing off my desk! What in the underworld is this?”

“A bounty. The Thracian Mare that attacked that caravan two days ago.”

“Damn. You work fast, Tereman. I don’t think there was a proper bounty set up for this yet.”

“I’ll take it. Whatever it is it’ll be a good little purse to start my life with.”