Of Blood And Fire by Ryan Cahill (best classic books of all time .txt) 📕

by the edge of forest. We’ll be back before the Moon Market kicks off.” Calen wore as innocent a grin as he could muster while he attempted to shuffle his way around Erdhardt’s wide base. A hand rested on Calen’s shoulder, firm but gentle.

“I hope that you are leaving Faenir at home this time?” Erdhardt raised one eyebrow in a quizzical gaze. “The last time you boys took him hunting, he came back in a frenzy, and Master Pimm’s chicken coop hasn’t been the same since.”

A loud crash, followed by angry shouting, sounded behind Erdhardt’s shoulder. Two traders had collided, and there were apples strewn all over the ground. Erdhardt glanced over at the raucous scene. “I must see that these children don’t leave each other black and blue. Stay out of trouble, Master Bryer.”

Erdhardt strode off towards the two squabbling traders, his booming voice resounding through the square. Calen didn’t wait for him to change his mind. He darted off, dipping between two pitched tents and bounding over the low wall that marked the edge of the market square. Relief washed over him as his feet hit the ground on the other side of the wall.

Calen couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Faenir squeezing through the tiny door of the chicken coop. Those chickens didn’t even lay many eggs.

As he slogged through the long grass, the chirping of the blackbirds droning in his head, he made out two figures perched on a fallen tree at the edge of the forest.

“About time you showed up. We’ve been here for days!” called Dann, dropping down off the trunk of the tree. The hood of his dark green robe fell down over his shoulders, exposing his short, messy blond hair.

Dann Pimm was only a few inches shorter than Calen, with a lean frame that belied a surprising strength. “How are you?” Dann asked warmly, embracing Calen. “I see we don’t have Faenir with us today. I think Father will be glad of that after the last time.”

“Yes, but we might miss his keen nose when we get lost in this forest tracking your deer,” Rist called, striding over towards the two young men. “Nice of you to join us, Calen. Dann hasn’t shut up all morning.” Rist pulled Calen into his chest and clapped him on the back.

“Don’t pull him too tight, Calen. Our Rist seems to get skinnier by the day.”

“Oh, piss off, Dann. At least I can read,” Rist sniped. He shoved Dann away, then reached behind his neck to tie up his shoulder-length brown hair.

“Hey, I can read. I’m just not as much of a bookworm as you are,” Dann laughed, playfully shouldering Rist. The corner of Rist’s mouth gave a disapproving turn.

Calen strode past the pair, who were still exchanging insults, and started off towards the edge of the forest. “Come on, you two. Keep up, will you?”

Dann trotted up beside Calen. Along with his yew bow, two short planks of wood with curved ends, reinforced with steel bands, were hung over his shoulder. “Did you really need to bring your bow, Calen?”

Calen’s glare did nothing to the mischievous grin that painted Dann’s face. Dann never missed an opportunity to turn someone’s handle and wind them up.

“I rarely like to agree with Dann, but is there really much point?” Rist asked as he caught up. His long, measured strides made up the distance with little effort. “I mean, I’ve literally seen you miss a barn door. That cat died, Calen.”

Both Dann and Rist broke out in fits of laughter. Calen tried his utmost to ignore them, focusing instead on the forest ahead. There wasn’t much Calen could say; as irritating as it was, they were both right. He wasn’t much use with a bow, and it had turned into a bit of a running joke. He was far happier with a sword in his hand, but he couldn’t hunt deer with a sword.

Ölm Forest was as vast and dense as any in Epheria. Calen felt the world change around them as they entered the outer rim of the ancient woodland. The raw, woody smell of time consumed the forest; centuries of fallen leaves and snapped branches incensing the dense air. Spongy star cap mushrooms littered the damp forest floor; the clusters of the vibrant yellow and blue fungi were striking against the lush green and venerable umber brown of the trees. Calen felt the firm spring of the ground give way to the soft, pliable forest floor, carpeted with leaves in every colour, moist from yesterday’s rain. Good. Tracking should be much easier after the rainfall.

“Dann, you’re sure we’ll be out of here in time for the celebrations later? I’ve been waiting to hear Therin’s stories for months now.” Calen heard scurrying squirrels leaping overhead, then that familiar crack as their small, nimble bodies landed on the arthritic boughs of the towering trees.

“Without a doubt. I was tracking a herd of deer earlier this week. I think if we carry on in this direction for an hour, then we should pick their trail back up again. They won’t have strayed too far from the river.”

As they ventured deeper into the twisting, tangled heart of the forest, it came to life. A constant birdsong resonated through the woods. Hares and rabbits scuttled through the thick tendril-like roots that laced the ground. Every once in a while, they heard the deep rumbles of animals a lot bigger than the ones that scampered around at their feet. But it was the constant buzzing and droning of insects that bothered Calen. A bear or wolf, he could kill. Or at least, he could try. But he couldn’t use a sword to stop the incessant noise of those bugs.

“There’ve been strange sightings in here recently,” Rist said matter-of-factly. “I overheard a few trappers the other day arguing about some creature that ran them out of their camp.”

“Sure, whatever it is, throw it into the mix with the bears, wolfpines