Rygaard

Nature Spring – Gold Ranch

“Who are you?” A dark voice demanded.

Ashby peeked out from beneath his burlap blanket and gazed into the harsh hazel eyes of the towering boy above him. His head was framed in a golden halo of hair, but his dark, glowering eyes gave his features a fearsome countenance. Ashby swallowed. The boy had a pitchfork aimed at his stomach.

“My name is Ashby, sir.” Ashby tried his best to let his voice seem deferential. It had wavered and hitched when he uttered sir but otherwise it sounded the part. Ashby was used to being on the other end of servility.

“Why ya hiding in our barn? A thief are ya?” The golden-haired boy’s voice was hoarse, like he’d swallowed sand and it had tarnished his vocals. His skin was a reddish-tan color; Ashby assumed it had been attained from long hours spent in the sun. He wore simple clothes; a mud stained tunic and dark trousers. “Well?”

Ashby blanched. “Oh, I was just looking for a place to rest, sir. I’ve spent many a day trudging through the harsh summer heat and needed shade to rest my weary head.”

The boy studied him for a long moment causing Ashby to fidget under the scrutiny. “Ya aint from these parts, are ya?”

“I’ve travelled for many days, sir.” Ashby confessed. “I’ll admit that these lands are foreign to me.”

The pitchfork that was aimed at his stomach wavered and dropped. The boy sighed and held out a calloused hand. Ashby gripped it and was instantly pulled to his feet. He felt a blade poke into his lower back. “I’ll let Pa decide what he wants done with ya.”

He gave Ashby a shove causing him to stagger forward and nearly topple over. He was incensed! No one treated him in such a brute manner where he was from! Ashby remembered in a grim instant that he wasn’t at home anymore. He had run away, and the way this brutish boy was treating him was justifiable based on the situation. How would he have treated a runaway he’d found in his barn?

Probably with a little more decorum than this fellow was showing! Ashby thought to himself. He was walking forward, every once and awhile the boy behind him would prod him with the knife, or give him a shove on the shoulder. He’s establishing his dominance, Ashby realised. He wanted to make sure he knew who the master is and who the slave is.

It was going to take Ashby a little time to get used to this role. As long as he remained courteous, subservient and slow witted on the outside, he could rage all he wanted internally. He needed to maintain his airs.

They had just left the barn, which stood a few hundred feet from a modest two story house made of a dark cedar. The house hadn’t been lit when Ashby had first found the property and he’d assumed it had been abandoned. It had been dark enough he hadn’t noticed the crop growing between the house and the barn. The fence surrounding the property was dilapidated at best. The entire property had screamed neglect. Apparently he’d been wrong.

“Who’s that?” A shrill feminine voice suddenly called. Ashby turned to watch as a young red-haired girl came bounding from the house. She moved with grace, floating across the lawn to stand in front of the two boys. He heard the boy behind him swear under his breath.

“Never mind,” He snapped, grabbing Ashby’s shoulder and halting him. “Go get Pa.”

“He’s handsome!” The girl pronounced nonchalantly, causing Ashby to grimace. She studied him for a long moment, her brown eyes enquiring. Ashby frowned at her when she grinned. She turned away and darted back towards the house, a sweet giggle trickled through the air as she vanished inside. Ashby felt the knife prod into his back so he started marching forward again.

A burly old man and a handsome woman emerged from the house, both had clothes covered in dirt and haggard looks on their faces. The woman was wringing her hands in a dishcloth and the man was studying them with cautious considering eyes. He shared his eyes with the boy who held the knife in his back; both were a light hazel color, both were cautious and intelligent. The girl peered from behind her mother’s skirt. Her brazen attitude had vanished with the appearance of her parents. There was a long awkward silence.

“Good day,” Ashby began but was immediately cut off by the young man behind him.

“Found him sleeping in the barn.” He explained. “Figured he’s a thief, he’s a stranger to these parts, but that don’t mean he aint no thief.”

Ashby grimaced. The boy’s syntax was as gruff as his voice.

“I don’t mean any harm,” Ashby spoke up. He figured he’d better speak in his own defense; no one else was going to. “I’d been travelling for days and needed a sheltered place to rest my head. I mean no disrespect, but when I’d happened on this property I’d taken it as abandoned.”

“You from Rygaard?” The man’s voice was deep and coarse. Ashby felt alarm bells going off in his head and was instantly tempted to run. He was from Rygaard, but he’d run away days earlier and was trying to leave his past behind him. In a few curt words it all came roaring back to him. He tried to smother his panic.

“No, sir.” He unsuccessfully tried to firm his voice but the waver in it frustrated him.

“See, you folk from Rygaard speak all civil.” The man explained. “Y’all have this formal way of talking that is rather obvious. People round here don’t speak that way.”
Ashby stood frozen, not wanting to speak lest he incriminate himself further. He needed to work on that, he realised. Had to stop with the formal politesse and speak brusquely. It would be hard to try and speak in a manner that was different; manner had been drilled into him from an early age. He didn’t realise it was so perceptible.

“He looks no older than a child,” the woman spoke up for the first time. She was watching him with a curious stare, trying to figure him out. “Let’s feed him and get him washed up.”

“Ma,” the boy protested from behind him. “We can’t afford to be feeding no vagrant! We should just kick him in the rear and send him on his way!”

“I’ll not be sending this boy away without a decent meal,” the woman insisted. “Look at him! He’s scrawny! I’ll not have his starving to death wear on my conscience, no way!”

She bustled forward and gripped Ashby’s arm. She gave him a hard penetrating gaze. “Don’t make me regret my hospitality, boy. I can be as ruthless as I can be kind.”

“I won’t, Ma’am.” Ashby promised.

“Bessa,” the man started to say, but the woman merely glared at him and dragged Ashby towards the house. Ashby heard a low chuckle and a muttered curse before he was dragged into the house.

The house was warm and smelled of stew which added a homey atmosphere to the rustic look of the place. It was dimly lit by three archaic kerosene lanterns that sat in the center of a large wooden table that was surrounded by four chairs. Bessa grabbed one of the lanterns and motioned for Ashby to follow her.

They walked through a cramped hall that was festooned with dark photographs that Ashby couldn’t make out because the light was dim and receding. He scurried to catch up and followed her into a large room. There was an oak desk with a small stool, a hickory chest of drawers and a rather dishevelled looking bed. She set the lamp on the desk and began rifling through the chest.

“This really isn’t necessary, Ma’am.” Ashby said. “I’ll gladly take the food, but I don’t need the clothes or the bed. If you allow me to sleep in the barn, I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”

“Never you mind,” she said as she turned to face him. She held a pair of black trousers and a blue sleeveless tunic. “You can wear these, Ransom grew out of them ages ago, but it looks like they may fit you. You can sleep in here; Ransom will take the sofa in the Den.”

“You’re too kind, but-”

“You will do as I say, this is my household.” Bessa said resolutely. “I don’t know how things work in Rygaard, but here in Nature Spring, things are different. If hospitality is offered you take it and are grateful.”

“I am grateful; I’d just rather not take your son’s bed. He really doesn’t need any more excuses to dislike me.” Ashby explained, taking the offered clothes. The woman ignored him and began turning the sheets on the bed.

“There’s a wash basin in that other room,” she pointed to a doorway that had been hidden in shadow. “There should be soap in there, the water is cold, but that don’t matter none. Go get washed up and I’ll call you for dinner.”

“Thanks, Ma’am.” Ashby felt there was no use arguing with the woman. She had a stony determination that wouldn’t be moved. He’d met women of her demeanour before, and had never won an argument with them when it came to hygiene or hospitality. The room he entered was dark and he briefly wondered how he could wash effectively without light.

“There’s a small lamp on the right of the door,” Bessa seemed to read his mind as she spoke from a hidden recess in the shadow of the room. She emerged a moment later fluffing a pillow. Ashby had no idea how to turn the thing on. He reached out and felt for the lamp and nearly knocked the thing off the shelf. He heard her ‘tsk’ in disapproval and watched her wander over.

She took the lamp and turned a small knob that Ashby would have never found. She gave it a quick twist and a dim orange glow flickered. The room he stood in was small, about the size of a closet really, there was enough room for the counter, which held a porcelain wash basin and the small lamp. There was a small cake of soap and a wash cloth. The walls were an ugly shade of yellow and were bereft of any art or pictures.

Bessa left the room a moment later and Ashby quickly took to washing himself. He stripped off his clothes which were the same one’s he’d left Rygaard in. He hadn’t thought to bring any extra; he’d been too desperate to escape. He quickly soaped up and rinsed himself in the cold water. It left him gasping but it felt too good to be clean for it to bother him. He’d bathed once, in the river, but he hadn’t felt clean afterwards. It was quite a difference soap made!

He spotted a towel folded on the back of the counter and quickly dried himself off. He stepped into the fresh clothing that Bessa had given him and allowed himself a contended sigh. He felt refreshed and energized. He then noticed the large puddle he’d left on the floor and promptly threw the towel on it and began scrubbing the floor dry.

“Ya supposed to stand in the other basin.” Ashby recognised the gravelly voice instantly and glanced over his shoulder. Ransom looked even taller and more daunting in the glow of kerosene lanterns. The look in his eyes was that of disdain and Ashby subconsciously felt himself shrinking from his leer. He turned away and noticed for the first time an oblong basin propped up against the wall. How he could have missed it when the room was so austere was beyond him.

“I’m sorry,” Ashby apologized. He’d never apologized so much in his life before. He was so used to people bending to his will and overlooking his transgressions that the feeling of remorse was foreign to him.

“You’re one of them rich, spoiled Rygaard kids aint ya?” Ransom spat. “Bet ya didn’t hafta work a day in your life. People probably bent over and let you sit on ‘em at will.”

Ashby stood and faced Ransom squarely. The boy was a god six inches taller than him but Ashby was used to staring people down. He’d cowed larger men than this boy. He was about to start berating him but quickly remembered his place. He was supposed to be compliant. These people were offering him a place to sleep, offering him food. He couldn’t spit on their good graces by arguing with their son. He bit his tongue and stormed past.

“Dinner is served,” Bessa beamed as Ashby entered the kitchen. There were five places set at the table and Ashby quickly noticed there were only four chairs. “My, you look dashing all cleaned up! Ransom could you go get the stool from the bedroom and bring it in here for… Oh my, I don’t even know your name.”

“Ashby,” He offered, deliberately avoiding his last name.

She regarded him for a brief moment. “I’m Bessa.”

“I’d gathered.” Ashby said before thinking. She watched him for another long moment. There was something about this family and their open assessments, he noticed. People tended to keep their curiosities stifled where he was from. It was a welcome, though uncomfortable, change. These were honest people who wore their business with pride.

“I’m Raina!” The red haired girl came bounding into the room and threw herself into one of the chairs unceremoniously. She was slight, looking to be only a few years younger than Ashby himself was; maybe sixteen. She watched him carefully. Ashby was beginning to feel like these people didn’t have guests very often the way they all watched him. “You’re even handsomer all washed!”

“Raina!” Bessa scolded. “Mind your manners!”

“Wouldn’t wanna offend the rich kid,” Ransom sneered as he carried the stool in. He shoved it into Ashby’s arms and flopped into a chair. He sat stiffly in his chair and glowered at Ashby who was beginning to feel uncomfortable. It was probably Ransom’s intent; make him feel so unwelcome he’d leave. Ashby was tempted, but the aromatic stew was enough to have him setting down his stool and taking a seat.

“Ransom!” Bessa admonished. “Stop being so hateful!”

He replied to her with a grimace.

“So what’s life like in Rygaard?” Raina asked excitedly. Ashby froze. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about where he was from. It was a place he didn’t want to go back to. However, he knew he’d have to tell these people something, so it would seem like he wasn’t hiding anything. He smiled at Raina as he frantically tried to fashion a back story.

“Smells delicious!” Ashby was spared briefly when Ransom’s father came into the kitchen. He walked up to Ashby and offered a hand and a smile. Ashby shook it tentatively, offering the towering man an easy smile. It was easy to see from where Ransom got his incredible height. “The name’s Nicholas. I see you all cleaned up. Look smart.”

“Ashby,” was all he could think of to say.

“Got no last name?” Ransom demanded.

“None are necessary,” Ashby said quickly. “I’ll be out of your hair in the morning, the less we know the better. It wouldn’t help getting familiar with one another, makes departures more difficult.”

“Can guarantee you it won’t,” Ransom said tersely. Ashby nodded. He wouldn’t be missing this young man when he left in the morning. Bessa seemed like a nice woman, Raina and Nicholas also seemed like nice people. He didn’t know what went wrong with their son.

“Ransom!” Bessa said wearily.

“It’s fine, Ma’am,” Ashby said evenly. “Your son is right not to trust me; he shows it quite clearly with his evident disdain and odious language. The truth of the matter is that I am a trespasser who you have invited to dinner. I’d likely be discourteous were the shoe on the other foot.”

“See!” Ransom nearly shouted. “He says we have reason to distrust him! He nearly confessed to being up to something!”

“I did not,” Ashby argued. He kept vehemence out of his voice lest Bessa and Nicholas take it as a desperate dishonesty. “I merely pointed out that your attitude is warranted. I am not up to anything, I can promise you that.” He made sure Bessa and Nicholas knew he was talking to them with the last statement.

“He’s a guest tonight, Ransom,” Nicholas said. His voice was firm. “Treat him as such. Now, let’s have some dinner!”

Ashby didn’t realise how hungry he was until that first spoonful of stew passed his lips. The flavour of meats, carrots, potatoes and onion burst on his tongue and he was instantly ravenous. He slowly spooned food into his mouth, years of propriety indicated he should eat slowly and appreciatively, but his hunger took over and he found himself shovelling the delicious stew into his mouth. It was over almost too quickly, but soon Bessa was ladling more stew into his bowl. Ashby attacked it with renewed fervour.

“You’d think he’d never eaten before,” he heard Nicholas say the words, but was too focused on his meal to pay heed. He faintly heard Bessa’s delighted titter and Ransom’s disgusted grunt. He finished his second bowl and sat back, cradling his aching stomach. He’d filled it too fast and with too much, but he felt so much better. Some of his fatigue was wearing away.

“Thank you so much for the delightful meal,” Ashby said contentedly. “It is much more than you should have offered, and I am appreciative.”

“You always talk like that?” Raina asked bluntly. “With all them big words and stuff?”

“I don’t think the words I use are big,” Ashby defended. He considered the girl in front of him for a long moment. Her eyes were filled with an honest curiosity. “This is how everyone speaks where I’m from.”

“I know what you said about familiarity, Ashby,” Nicholas said. Ashby looked into his eyes which were both piercing and guarded at the same time. “I completely understand. However, I’d like to hear a little about your history. You owe us at least that much for the dinner and the lodging. ”

It was the longest speech Ashby had heard from the man so far, and the eloquence was surprising. The old man spoke with a calm fluidity that spoke of a hidden formality. His voice was a dusky oak, coarse and elegant. Ashby considered for a moment, he hadn’t had time to come up with a plausible story to tell, so he figured he’d speak as close to the truth as possible.

“I come from a wealthy family; that much is true.” Ashby ignored Ransom’s derisive snort. “I left about four days ago, travelling on foot and hitching rides on various wagons that passed. I don’t know where I’m going, but I needed to get away from the family for a while.”

“Why it so important you leave?” Bessa inquired. Ashby noticed for the first time that he had the entire family listening to his every word with a rapt interest. Even Ransom was listening, though he tried to hide his interest with a dark sneer and mindless stirring of his stew.

“My family and I had a disagreement.” Ashby replied, deliberately vague. Nicholas and Bessa continued watching him, as if expecting him to elaborate. He sighed. “I’d rather not get into the finer points of our argument; it’s still something of a sore point. I’ll just say we had irreconcilable differences that could only be solved with my departure.”

“Well, you’re welcome to stay here.” Bessa offered. Ransom looked up frantically at his mother and spluttered unintelligibly. He flashed a murderous glare at Ashby before shoving away from the table and storming out of the room.

“I appreciate the offer,” Ashby began. “I’ve imposed too much on your family as it is. Truthfully, I’d rather I left in the morning. I’m sure your son would agree with me.”

“Nonsense,” Nicholas said. He exchanged a significant glance with his wife. It looked like they were having a private conversation with their eyes. “We could use the help around the farm and you said yourself you have nowhere to go. You could stay until you figure out what to do about your family.”

“I’ll sleep on it.” Ashby bargained.

“Don’t let Ransom scare ya away!” Raina gave him a warm smile. “You are welcome here!”

Ashby nodded. “May I be excused? I’d like to get some sleep. You have given me a lot to consider. It is way more than you have any need to offer; especially to someone you only just met.”

“Yes, goodnight dear.” Bessa gave him a slight nod. He pushed away from the table and felt his way through the hallway towards the room at the end of the hall. Ransom’s room. Ashby stripped to his underclothes and flopped down onto the large bed. What a day this had turned out to be!

Earlier that morning he’d woken under a sycamore near the river’s edge and had started journeying across the plain. It was true he had no idea where he was going, he’d set out without a plan or provisions. His Mother and Father would probably be missing him already. He stifled the feeling of sadness that threatened to well up from his full belly.

It was a wonderful thing that this family offered to take him in. Not too many people would do something like that for a stranger. He wondered why they would offer their home to someone they’d found in their barn. Perhaps there were still good people out there; honest, trusting people.

It was a dangerous thing, trust.

These people didn’t know the first thing about him, yet they allowed him into their home because their good nature wouldn’t allow them to do anything else. For all they knew he could be a murderous convict on the lam. He wasn’t of course, but who was to say that the next vagrant to hide in their barn wasn’t? Perhaps he should steal from them to give them a hard lesson in the dishonest wiles of people.

He rejected the idea as soon as it occurred to him. He couldn’t take their trust and destroy it; so few people had that nowadays. He’d grown up in an environment where trust was not handed out freely. He couldn’t trust anyone. He had enemies, some of them dangerous. He realised he couldn’t stay.

If he were to stay he’d be putting this little family in danger. People were searching for him, some wanted him dead. He knew that staying here could potentially bring those enemies down on this family and they’d be destroyed. He couldn’t have that weighing on his conscience. It was best that he left in the morning. It would be safer for everyone.


Day One


Morning

Ashby didn’t realise he’d fallen asleep until he was rolling off the bed and hitting the floor. He groaned in pain as his head bounced off the hardwood. The room had a gloomy grey cast to it, sunlight filtered through ruddy grey sheets nailed over windows. There was a mirthless chuckle at Ashby’s pain. He sat up quickly and glared at Ransom, who was wearing a satisfied smirk as he set the mattress back down.

“Ma told me to wake ya up,” He explained. His smirk turned into a glower. He turned and started out of the room, saying over his shoulder: “Get dressed, eat, and get the hell outta here.”

Ashby grimaced as he got to his feet. He’d landed on his tailbone when he fell and it gave a painful twinge as he straightened. He gathered the clothes Bessa had given him and stepped into them. He went to the wash room he’d used the night before in search of the clothes he’d left behind the night before, but they were missing. He quickly splashed water on his face from the basin and started towards the kitchen.

“There you are!” Bessa positively beamed. She’d already set five spots at the breakfast table, the delicious scent of eggs and bacon assaulted his nostrils. It had been nearly a week since he’d last had breakfast, the scent was seductive. He found himself sitting at a plate before he was even aware that he’d sat down.

“Good morning, Ma’am,” Ashby smiled and gave his head a shake trying to demolish the last vestiges of grogginess. Bessa had her dark red hair pulled back in a neat bun; she was wearing a fine blue dress under a frilly red apron. She hummed jovially as she clacked dishes in her washbowl, but Ashby could see a faint haunted cast to her eyes. This was a woman who had a dark history and had been scarred by it.

“Ahh, just the young man I was looking for!” Nicholas declared as he walked into the room. He had a dark green shirt under a pair of brown overalls. He smiled at Ashby, his hazel eyes sparkling. Ashby was leery at first; usually people who seemed so pleased were up to some sort of mischief.

“Morning, sir,” he murmured cautiously. Nicholas plopped himself down at the table and gave Ashby a curious look.

“We’re going to have to stop with that ‘sir’ ‘ma’am’ nonsense if you’re going to be living here.” Nicholas said firmly. Bessa nodded in agreement as she wandered over and sat down next to her husband. They both looked at him, a united front, and Ashby was slightly worried. He had no intention of living here; he was going to do what Ransom had said he should. Eat and get out of there. He couldn’t bring his woes on such an honest family.

“I can’t stay,” Ashby began. He was immediately cut off by Bessa.

“You didn’t think room and board was free did ya?” She was grinning when she said it. “You have to work off what you’ve used up.”

Entrapment. Ashby grimaced. It was a rather unsubtle and outdated ploy, but one he’d grown accustomed to growing up. There was always a way out of it somehow, his father had told him. Use your wits and search for loopholes. Ashby felt a slight dejection thinking of his father. He did miss his family but he couldn’t go back. Wouldn’t.

“I’ll work for you today,” Ashby offered. “But, I need to leave before evening. I want to reach Bay City within the week, and it’d be best if I left as soon as possible.”

“What’s in Bay City?” Raina came drifting into the kitchen and threw herself into the chair. The girl seemed like she was able to float one minute and hit the dirt like a sack of bricks the next. She had a fluid grace about her, but also seemed to bumble around. Ashby wondered how it was even possible to be lumbering and nimble at the same time.

“A cousin,” Ashby lied. “I have a cousin there that I haven’t seen in ages, figured now would be a good a time as any to visit.”

Bessa and Nicholas exchanged a significant look, communicating with their eyes again. Ashby felt like they were deciding his future for him, like he had no say in the matter. He felt himself starting to simmer with anger, but quickly quashed it. He couldn’t get mad at his hosts, even if they were trying to control his life. They were doing it from a virtuous place.

“We are going to Bay City in about four days’ time,” Nicholas said. “If you stay and help around the farm until then, you can ride with us there. We’ll leave you there and you won’t have to hear from us again if that’s what you’d like.”

Four days. Ashby considered the offer; four days didn’t seem like too much to bear. He doubted his parents would find him on this small farm; he himself hadn’t heard of Nature Spring until Bessa had mentioned it the night before. There was a good possibility his father hadn’t either. There was also the matter of Ransom’s open hostility. Could he suffer four days of the young man’s open contempt? Would it be worth it?

At that moment Ransom entered the kitchen. He was freshly scrubbed, his golden hair slicked back out of his face and he looked clean shaven. Ashby could smell the soap and noticed he was wearing fresh, clean clothing. He sneered at Ashby and sat at the only open chair left at the table, picking up a fork.

“So, ya gonna stay?” Raina asked.

“What?” Ransom barked, the fork clattering to the table. “Stay? What for?”

“We’ve offered Ashby a ride into Bay City.” Nicholas said firmly. He glowered at his son. “You are going to mind your mother and my decision. Now let’s eat.”

Ransom glared at Ashby. Ashby stared back at him. He wasn’t going to let the boy push him around anymore, he was using anger as a bargaining tool, trying to make the situation as terrible as possible so he could get his way. For some reason, Ransom wanted Ashby gone, and Ashby decided it was his job to find out why. Get to the root of the issue, only then can you truly solve it. It had been one of his mother’s mantras. She had told him to look beyond emotion and to find the root of that emotion, only then could you possibly solve a problem permanently.

Ashby dove into his breakfast with the same reckless abandon he’d shown at dinner the night before. He decided he’d show dinner table propriety when his stomach was nice and full. Four days of near starvation tended to amplify a man’s hunger. And his voraciousness, he thought wryly while shoving a slice of bacon into his mouth.

“Don’t eat like a pig.” Ransom said curtly. Ashby glanced up from his plate and noticed the entire family was staring at him. Bessa had a satisfied grin she was trying unsuccessfully to stifle, Raina was staring at him amusedly with her fork paused halfway to her mouth. Nicholas looked slightly appalled while Ransom was staring with open disgust. Ashby couldn’t help but blush.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized. He sat back from his plate and straightened his back. “I’ve not had such a delicious meal in a long time; it’s difficult to eat it slowly.”

“We understand, dear.” Bessa said. She was near bursting with pride. Ransom snorted and began eating again, murmuring under his breath. Ashby finished his meal, but at a more measured pace. He found the food much more flavourful when he savoured instead of wolfing it down. There was a faint hint of hickory and honey in the bacon, the eggs were slightly salted. It was a wonderful breakfast.

When the meal was done, Ashby began helping Bessa clear the table. Ransom pushed away and stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door as he exited the house. Nicholas sighed and went after his son.

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea that I stay here,” Ashby said to Bessa as he handed her a stack of plates. “I think Ransom would have a fit.”

“Nonsense,” Bessa said. “Although, since you’ll be staying, I think I’ll find you some different accommodations. We’ll let Ransom have his room back; it might abase his anger a little bit.”

Ashby noticed that she was speaking quite eloquently; her use of language was equal to that of a local from his parts. He began to wonder at the heritage of the two adults at the farm. Perhaps they hadn’t lived in Nature Spring their whole lives, the children of the home had a curt, unwitting way with their words and the adults’ attempt at similar speech seemed affected.

“Stop starin’ an’ get out there,” Bessa urged, looking into his eyes. The words seemed false coming from her lips, like she was forcing her speech. His father had taught him to look for such devices; it was a good way to tell if someone was being dishonest. If they speak in a manner that seems contrived, chances are they’re hiding something up their sleeve. She motioned towards the door with a jerk of her head.

Ashby nodded and started for the door, Raina sliding up next to him as he left.

“So ya stayin?” Raina asked. He looked at her as they started down the steps into the yard. She had an almost propitious air about her, like she were desperate he agree to stay. He wondered why she was so anxious to have him stay. It wasn’t because she thought he was handsome, he was sure. At least he hoped it wasn’t the reason.

“I’m not sure,” Ashby admitted. The offer Bessa and Nicholas had made him did sound reasonable. Four days and he’d be on his way to Bay City. He figured he could start a new life there, he’d be lost in the bustle of the city and it’d be difficult for him to be found there. Besides, Bay City was on the coast of Victory Bay, he could hop a ship and go anywhere if he so desired.

“It’s nice here,” Raina offered. The tone in her voice betrayed her words. There was evident sadness in her voice; she didn’t even believe the words she spoke. He wondered if the family ever had company; the uncomfortable way they had studied him the night before spoke volumes. Maybe Raina was just a lonely girl living in seclusion with her family on the farm. It would explain why she was so hopeful that he stays.

The sun was nearing its pinnacle, beating obstinately down on him. He had a love/hate relationship with the sun. It was blinding and nearly unbearable during the day but he sure missed it’s warmth during the night. He noticed Nicholas approaching them from amid his crop of (summer veg). Ransom stood in the garden looking even angrier than Ashby had ever seen him. Perhaps Nicholas had given him a scolding.

“Ashby, I want you to go into town with Ransom.” Nicholas said. Ashby froze mid-stride. Go into town with Ransom? No wonder the guy looked furious. It was probably the last thing he wanted to do. He began to consider. It might provide him with an opportunity to mend fences, to try and come to an understanding with the ill-tempered boy. It was probably the reason Nicholas was doing it too.

“Ok,” Ashby agreed. Nicholas looked surprised for a moment, perhaps he’d been expecting an argument; he’d undoubtedly had gotten one from Ransom. The older man nodded and waved Ransom over. Raina had disappeared somewhere and Ashby was surprised he hadn’t noticed her leave. When Ransom arrived, Nicholas looked from one boy to the other.

“I need you to go pick up some feed from the general store, probably some seeds, a new shovel, and a new axe too, winter is fast approaching,” Nicholas was looking at Ransom as he said this. “Show Ashby around a little bit, let him get acquainted with the town. He might like to see the fountain.”

“Why don’t ya go yourself then?” Ransom was working hard to keep the edge out of his voice. “I don’t wanna show this kid around.”

“You both will go,” Nicholas said. “When you come back, you’d better be friends. Go hitch the wagon.”

Ransom swore under his breath and hurried off to the barn. Nicholas watched him go for a moment then turned to Ashby. In the light, Ashby could see the old man looked tired. His face was weathered from many days spent under the sun. There were dark circles under his hazel eyes, but there was a fire burning inside them. This man was still full of vigour, life had been hard on him but he wasn’t done with it just yet.

“I want ya and Ransom to start gettin’ along,” Nicholas said wearily. “The boy’s prolly just jealous of ya, we live a hard life on this here farm, and you come from money.”

“Sir,” Ashby began, Nicholas grunted curtly and gave him a hard glare. “Nicholas, I’d like nothing more than for your son to like me. Truth be told, were the situations reversed, I wouldn’t like me very much either and to be blunt, I’m not even too sure what you and your wife are up to, keeping me here like this; seems it would be easier for all of us if I just went on my way.”

“That may be true, Ashby,” Nicholas said. “But it isn’t our way. Now, off with ya.”

Ashby swallowed a glower and started towards the barn. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something going on beneath the surface. Bessa and Nicholas were far too accommodating; he figured people of their station should be more wary of outsiders. To invite someone into your home always poses a risk and these people were willing to disregard that risk. It was baffling. Maybe he’d been borne into distrust; it had been one of his first lessons. Trust no one.

He entered the barn and scanned around for Ransom but he couldn’t see him anywhere. He wondered how he could have overlooked the animals that had been in there the night before, he`d nestled himself in the hay and beneath a burlap sheet, but hadn`t noticed the two horses. He decided to blame his oversight on exhaustion. The saddled horses were tall, about twenty hands high, both a dark black color, and one had a white blaze on its nose. It whickered and shook it`s head.

He heard clattering in the back end of the barn and followed the noise. Ransom stood at the far wall rifling through drawers. He seemed to sense Ashby`s presence and whirled around to face the startled boy.

“What ya doin’ sneakin around?” Ransom demanded. His hazel eyed glare seemed to bore straight into Ashby and left him momentarily breathless. It was as if the off-putting boy could see right through his façade, as if he could see the truth clearly and didn’t like what he saw.

“We’re supposed to be going to town,” Ashby said matter-of-factly. He disengaged eye contact; the extended glaring was making him uncomfortable. “I came in here to get you so we can get it over with. I don’t like this anymore than you do.”

Ransom snorted and walked towards him, whatever had distracted him at the wall forgotten. He stormed passed, making sure to jostle him with his shoulder as he passed. Ashby took a deep breath and followed after him. Ransom had taken the horse without the blaze on its nose and was waiting, mounted, outside the barn doors.


Spring Wood

The ride to Nature Spring hadn’t been as horrible as Ashby had suspected. He sat on Blaze’s back and followed Ransom by a few yards, so he wouldn’t have to suffer under the boy’s seething gaze. He sat back and enjoyed the harmonious rhythm of horse hooves and whistling wind. Occasionally a bird would trill and dart from tree to tree. The horse’s ears were constantly sweeping back and forth hearing things that Ashby himself couldn’t.

They rode along a dirt trail for a solid hour before they arrived at the edge of a small copse of trees and Ransom pulled his horse to a stop. He glanced back at Ashby and motioned for him to quicken his pace and sat waiting. Ashby thought this was the first time Ransom had communicated with him without some sort of negativity.

“This is Spring Wood, only ‘bout fifty feet all the way through, but it’s easy to get lost in there,” Ransom said. He looked pointedly into Ashby’s eyes. “There a path that goes ‘round, it easier but takes longer. Going through is tougher and faster. What ya wanna do?”

There was a glint in Ransom’s eyes that Ashby recognised as a challenge. He was trying to test his mettle; to see if he’d choose the surer route or the possibly hazardous one. Ashby looked passed the lean man and into the forest. The dirt trail they’d been following the past hour cut into the woods then disappeared into shadow. He briefly wondered how it could be so dark in the forest, when the sun had just passed its peak.

“Let’s get this over with,” Ashby said indicating the forest with an open hand. Ransom nodded and turned the horse into Spring Wood. Ashby nudged Blaze forward; he kept at a much shorter distance this time. He didn’t want to get lost in the small little forest.

The trees seemed to close behind him as they delved deeper into the wood. All that Ashby could see was Ransom in front of him, and a thick wall of trees around him. He didn’t understand how someone could get lost when the trees seemed to press in on all sides.

It was then that he heard the giggling.

It first sounded on his left, causing him to nearly fall off his horse. He craned his neck to try and see the source but couldn’t see anything but a thick wall of vegetation. He checked to make sure he could still see Ransom in front of him when he heard the giggling to his right. His heart started to hammer in his chest when he couldn’t find the source of the giggling. Something wasn’t right.

That’s when he noticed he was alone.

“Ransom!” He shouted. His words seemed to get swallowed up by the forest as soon as they’d left his mouth. His shout came out as nothing more than a whisper and the giggling got louder and started coming from all directions at once. Ashby kicked his horse into a run.

Blaze dashed forward through the trees. Ashby prayed the horse knew where it was going; he needed to get away from the elusive giggling and get back into daylight. He feared he’d pass out from sure fright otherwise. He silently cursed his sheltered upbringing. He should have had an adventurous youth, facing fears and building bravado. Instead he’d been restricted to libraries and book studies; taught ways of propriety and court, not fearlessness and living off the land.

The giggling filled his entire head; all senses seemed to focus on the terrible laughter as it echoed through the forest. He clutched desperately to Blaze’s reins and screwed his eye shut. His irrational mind figured that his eyes being closed would stop the awful laughter that echoed through his head. It pounded in his temples and wrenched at his stomach, becoming a tangible force that tried to drag him into the woods.

Ashby screamed.

Blaze burst out of the forest at a run, leaping over a log and sending Ashby flying out of the saddle and into the dirt. He was stunned momentarily as he rolled over the ground and lay flat on his back. He struggled for breath as a dull pain throbbed in his left shoulder. The giggling had ended as soon as he’d left the forest. Ashby nearly wept with relief.

“Ashby!” Ransom jumped off his horse and knelt next to him. There was concern in his eyes as he looked him over, seeing nothing visibly wrong, he looked into his eyes. “Are ya ok?”

“I’m fine,” Ashby said. He tried to sit up but found himself gasping for air again. “I just need a minute to gather my wits about me.”

“What happened?” Ransom demanded. Ashby noticed the concern had vanished replaced by irritated incredulity. “You was right behind me one minute and gone the next!”

“Why didn’t you warn me about that terrible laughter?” Ashby demanded, suddenly angry. He’d been fine with Ransom’s disdainful attitude, but putting his life at risk? Unacceptable. “It nearly got me killed!”

“Laughter?” Ransom asked. His eyes widened with disbelief. “You heard the laughter? And ya made it out alive?”

“I don’t feel lucky,” Ashby grumped. He pushed himself into a sitting position, taking long laboured breaths. He rotated his throbbing shoulder to make sure nothing was displaced or broken. It seemed fine; there were sudden pains or anything. He glared at Ransom. “What do you mean by that? I heard the laughter, I’m lucky I made it out alive?”

“Legend goes that whoever hears the laugh of the Spring Wood is fated to sleep for eternity,” Ransom explained. He was watching him with a curiosity that made Ashby feel more uncomfortable than the hatred had. He’d rather be despised than studied. “It’s said that wood nymphs and dryads live in that there forest trying to snare travellers. Don’t know why, or how, just that only them who can hear the laughter get caught. No one had heard the laugh before.”

“Well, I did.” Ashby grimaced. “It came from all directions at once and seemed to fill my entire mind; all I could focus on was that terrible giggling. Somehow, near the end, it tried to drag me in. Praises to Blaze here, she saved my life.”

Ashby walked up to the panting mare and gave her an affectionate rub on the neck. She whinnied in response and pushed her head up against his shoulder. He grimaced from the sudden pressure, but smiled at her. She had saved his life; who knew what would have happened to him if he hadn’t been on her.

Ashby turned to Ransom. “How much further until Nature Spring?”

“Just over the next rise,” Ransom pointed down the road and started towards his horse. Ashby gave Blaze another pat on the neck and fumbled his way into the saddle, wrenching his shoulder as he mounted. Ashby groaned in pain and nudged Blaze onto the dirt road.

“Are there any horrible legends or anything about the town that I should know about?” Ashby asked when Ransom pulled up next to him. Ransom just shook his head and nudged his horse, Blackie, into the lead. Ashby spared one final glance at the forest that had nearly swallowed him with its mirth and followed Ransom down the road.


To Be Continued...
There was more. Apparently I can only post 50kb, though. Tsk. I'm interested in hearing reviews/responses to the story thus far. I've enjoyed writing it, but have lost some of the drive to continue. Fedeback would be most welcome to aid my drive. :) Please Read, Rate, Review, etc.