On top o` hill

The cloaked figure stood motionless o` top the hill, looking out over the glade and the forest in the distance. The moon hung low overhead casting a glow earthward like a beacon, and causing the figure to be shadowed and gloomy. Slight wisps of mist circled the hill and the night was quiet all be it with a slight wind, cool and yet not cold.

The trees swayed silently in the light breeze, moving as if by will power alone. Dancing eerie trees with gnarled limbs stretching out for the young boy moving underneath them like a small insect. Silently, slowly and seeped in dread the nameless boy moved ever closer to the base of the hill.

The boy held his breath; he could taste the fear in his mouth. The bitter taste clung to his dry parched lips; the fear was so real and so powerful it took all his will power to not run away. He knew he had to make it to the figure up on the hill, he knew on pain of death he must get to the top without making a sound.

The boy almost moves to the base of the hill when his hairs stand up on his neck. A prickly sensation runs up his spine and his young heart jumps to his dry throat. With a painful gulp the boy turns knowing - like all animals when they are being hunted - that he is not alone. The slow turn becomes a sprint as a deep menacing growl speeds him up the hill.

The boy grabs grass and mud and anything he can to help him up the hill, the adrenaline pushing him onward and upwards towards his destiny. The commotion behind him confirming his worst fears something was chasing him, it must be huge, by the sound it made crashing through the undergrowth, and the pants of breath. The boy let out a yell, but it was too shrill to be anything resembling words. In his haste he slips only for a second but he feels a nip on his leg, he drags it clear before a firm grip could be gained and with renewed vigour he scrambles to the top. Again the beast chasing him makes a grab at his legs and this time luck is not on the boy’s side, he twists as his left trouser leg is clamped in the jaws of a giant salivating wolf, larger than any wolf before, and deathly white all over.

The beast snarled and snapped and put a massive paw on the boy’s chest and with dripping jaws wide slowly locked them around the tiny neck. With the panic that only death brings - the boy lay still, eyes clenched shut amidst the horrors that he was about to endure. Thankfully it was swift and painless . . .

"SHEVA . . . DOWN." The figure o` top the hill looked down at the boy and the giant white wolf. Sheva looked at him with mischievous eyes and squeezed ever so slightly around the tiny neck just letting him know what could have happened and then released him. The giant wolf padded over to her masters side and lay down all the while looking at the boy who was slowly getting to his feet. "You almost made it that time Farn, so nearly made it."

"Well next time get Sheva to eat some mint leaves, her breath stinks," Farn wiped the drool form his neck and walked over to his teacher Fen-Hu who was moving to sit on a stone bench. With a cheeky look making sure Fen-Hu was not looking, he moved pas the wolf and rubbed the saliva back on her neck , she snapped at the air missing his fingers by a hair length and she turned round the other way in a disgust laying down. Her face on her paws just like any other wolf but just one the size of a pony.

"Come sit, we have lots to discuss," Fen removed his hood and sat on the stone, he delicately moved his white beard out from his cloak and sat down playing with the ends. As Farn sat down he also added,"and don’t annoy Sheva . . . one day I may let her snack on you a bit young prince." Sheva sat quietly and Farn sat next to his bald teacher, and wondered just for a moment if all teachers had no hair.

Farn picked himself off the floor rubbing his head, he reminded himself not to think things when his teacher can read his thoughts. He sat back down, with an apologetic look to his teacher and a nod as way of apology, they began to talk. Farn could not push away the niggling thought that he could have sworn he heard Sheva laugh but Fen-Hu said nothing on the matter so he too ignored it.

"Dark times are coming my prince, Dark times indeed." The figures talked until the moon had gone and a dawn had broken.

Farn could not stop his mind from spinning at the news from the north. It had been many years since the rift had opened and the legions of the undead had poured into the lands.
Only Farn's father, Lord Asher had been able to unite the southern counties to push back the advancing undead from the mountains of Nortland.
War with the undead is all Farn had known, strange how used to war a young boy of eleven can get.
The castle was cold and crisp on the spring morning, Farn made his way through the winding corridors to the dinning hall.
Whilst walking he pondered the words of Fen-Hu his teacher, on that moonlit night.

`Dark times come my prince, I can sense dark deeds a-foot. There are people who want our lands ravaged, zealots who think fiery retribution is what this land needs. ` Fen-Hu looked tired and for once the normally robust ancient looked tired and all of his 300 years. Farn could sense something had his teacher worried but he allowed him time, after a pause Fen-Hu continued, I don’t know how to put this . . . but I am worried about Lord Asher, the shadow of dread I feel is entwined in his Karma like a serpent. ` Fen-Hu pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders and gazed at the moon. Teacher and pupil sat in silence till the morning lost in thought, a giant wolf by their side.

Farn shook himself out of his daydream he pushed open the dinner hall doors and the smell made love to his nose he could taste the meats cooking over the central fire pit.
Farn froze for a moment and looked at Sheva with tight eyes. There she was again eating the tastiest pieces of crackling form the beautiful hog that roasted lazily.
`One day the prince may get the tasty treats hey? ` Farn was not speaking to anyone directly just the whole world. Sheva looked at him with grinning eyes as she gorged on her treat.
Farn helped himself to some flank meat and some apple sauce and moved over to the bench at which Fen-Hu sat, `Good morn, how does this day find you? ` Gone was the sullen Fen of last night, `Master Raul wants to work on your baton practice today; he will call on you after your done here. ` Farn made to say something but he thought better of it.

Farn hated baton practice to him it was just a word for wooden kids swords; he had no time for it or Master Raul's teachings. When he got things wrong it usually ended up with Farn on the floor and on his head or arms. Farn turned as he could hear slapping of wolf lips, Sheva had finished her food and padded outside. Farn knew exactly where she would be going, the same place she always settles down when he has practice, just in the doorway of the training yard. Farn was sure she liked watching him get beaten by Raul.

He finished his food and went to get his practice baton and went into the training arena, he stepped around the hulking shape of Sheva and walked into the circular training yard.
The training yard was round and the floor was covered in sand he looked around but saw no one so he began to warm up, he was so engrossed that he did not hear Raul approach.

With a swish followed by a fleshy thwack, Fran was kneeling on the floor holding his arm and sucking in air in little gasps. "Princey, its time for your lesson darling." Raul stood there in his gangly glory he was a tall lithe man, who was very peculiar. The thin baton held in one hand pointing down to Farn's sore arm. "Its but a teensy tickle."
Raul had blonde hair of shoulder length hanging straight down the sides of a long face with big ears. He was always jovial, and a little bit camp. He wore garish clothes of multi colours and had the annoying knack of calling Farn PRINCEY in a high annoying tone. It was the same tone of that silly little sibling who tries to wind you up.

Farn rose up bringing up his baton into the first stance, "Good Princey lets see what you can remember from our last dance hmmm."

Sheva looked on as the Farn worked and practiced his swordplay, she was enjoying the sunlight, when she sensed a presence, and an evil cloying decayed presence . . . Growling the giant wolf searched for the origin of the smell and could see a man walking towards the Prince and Raul.
Sheva bounded into a run but she was already too late the being was by the prince and Raul.