The Cloven King by Luke Prochnow

Author:Luke Prochnow [Prochnow, Luke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-24T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

The Splintered Woods were ancient; Verth could sense their lengthy history as he plodded along the path. Trees hundreds of years old rose around him, their old skin lined with deep grooves. As Verth ducked under branches that twisted and spiraled around one another, he wished these trees could whisper their long-forgotten secrets to him and explain what it had been like during the war that broke the country in half. Perhaps they had even seen his parents as they fled Alshan.

Verth brought the donkey to a halt beside a clump of moss-padded rocks. He took the map from his cloak and spread it over his knee. Elfish territory lay to the west. If he kept heading north, he would either run into Alshan or come to the main road that would lead him there. There was nothing to do but follow the path in hopes it would take him where he needed to go.

He folded up the map and looked at the sinking sun. Blood-red tendrils streaked the dark blue clouds. He grew nervous at the thought of camping in these unfamiliar woods during the night. What if those monsters still lurked? His hand fell to the hilt of his new sword as the donkey’s hooves clunked along the stone ridden path. If those creatures injured his mother, he would torch them all just as he had the one on the shore. He would tear down the Spire brick by brick if he had to.

Verth’s mind wandered to tales he’d heard of these woods. Few knew their history, and Kale had been the only lyraden to gather the remnants of the story from the old elves and piece it together into something whole. Kale had always enjoyed knowing stories others didn’t, so, as Verth recalled, he had told him the lengthy history of the Splintered Woods one night as they sat alone on the bridge outside their hut, washed in the light of the moons. Verth learned they were not always named the Splintered Woods. Long ago, when the country’s only known inhabitants were elves and centaurs, the woods were known as Takmarka, or unfailing light in the elven tongue. During the War of Three Kings, the Halgrathens destroyed many different elven sects. Scattered and broken, the elves renamed Takmarka to something more fitting.

Several miles deeper, Verth smelled smoke coming from somewhere to the right. Darkness kept him from seeing through the matted trees. He stopped in the middle of the path and hunched down, trying to penetrate the darkness. Looking back, all he could see was the path which curved out of sight, and for the first time he realized how vulnerable he was, like a kitten stuck in a burning tree.

He dismounted, hoping the fire belonged to friendly travelers he could hitch a ride with. He led the donkey through the trees, following the smell of smoke, and stopped just outside a clearing. Embers smoked in its center. Snapped branches lay around the fire. Verth

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