ChapterI: The Fisherman

For as long as I could remember my father had worked as a fisherman, and a very skilled one at that too. Every morning even before the gulls were awake, he would be pushing his old, wooden dinghy into the water and sailing across the wide lake which encompassed the town. In happier and more plentiful times he would bring home crates of all kinds of fish, laughing heartily as he carried the boxes into the house. The fishy aroma from the trout, pike fish and bass would fill our tight kitchen. Father had not laughed like he had those many years ago, but nonetheless he continued to fish in the lake of Esgaroth.

This morning was no exception. As I lay in bed I heard the grating sound of wood against timber as Father dragged his small dingy out to the wharf. I knew he would not return home until evening, a time long after the fish had all retreated down to the bottom of the water, below the pillars that held afloat the town's structure.

As quietly as I could I slowly lifted the covers of my blanket and crept out of bed, careful not to wake up Addy who was still asleep on the other bed beside mine. Her body rose up and down peacefully as she breathed out against her pillow, blowing her brown curls away from her face. Sprawled on the floor between the beds was the old black cat who often climbed in through the small open window in the room. He posed no harm to anyone, and no one bothered to chase him out whenever he appeared. I quietly placed a finger to my lips as the green eyes stared at me, before tiptoeing out of our bedroom.

The rays of the sunrise flooded in through the gaps of the weatherboard walls of the house, yellow lighting the kitchen as I made my way downstairs. The cold, dawn air still lingered in the house and I hastily grabbed my worn sheepskin coat that was hanging on the dining chair. It was a dirty brown color with grey patches here and there, but it suited me just fine against the bitter cold. Even in the summer there was ice floating on the Long Lake surrounding Esgaroth, and with so little to go around, I knew I was in no position to complain about trivial aspects such as my clothes.

I crept my way around the creaky floorboards of the kitchen towards the pantry. It was almost bare, save a tin of wholesome sized biscuits which Addy had baked the night before. I reached my hand into the narrow container, fished a couple of them out and dropped them into my coat pocket. A patter of small feet coming my way caused me to turn around guiltily, but it was only the black cat who had followed me downstairs to investigate the noise.

"Don't tell Aunt Maude. You know she will give me a tongue lashing if she found out I was in the pantry again," I whispered as I discretely replaced the lid back on the tin.

Indifferent to my words, the cat stretched and yawned before rubbing its back on my legs, purring contentedly.

"Well, at least one of us are happy," I commented as I gave its black fur a good comb through with my fingers.

The cat sat patiently beside me as I leaned against the stool to tie the laces of my boots. The creature was out of the house as soon as I opened the front door, ready to start a new day on the streets of the town.

I closed the door behind me and stepped out onto the road paved with wood panels that had been beaten soft at the edges by the waves. The freezing wind refused to stop blowing and I instinctively wrapped my coat tighter around my body as I continued down the track. Only a few villagers were awake and preparing for the morning, men untying their boats and the women carrying their laundry away to wash.

I stopped in front of the carpentry store and waited under the low stooped roof. The owner gave me a nod but otherwise took no further notice of me. He knew who I was waiting for, it had been the same person for the last nine years.

The familiar silhouette approached from the other end of the block. I waved and Bard returned the gesture as he quickened his pace. He always arrived at our meeting place a few minutes late since he had to help his own father with their barge every morning.

"I swear it gets colder every sunrise," he complained as soon as we were within talking distance of each other.

"A very masculine comment to make," I teased but my attention was fixed on the bow and arrow hanging over Bard's shoulder.

Bard noticed my excitement and his eyes crinkled in amusement.

"I don't know whether this is a good idea or not," he said as he hoisted the weapon higher around his shoulder.

"No backing out, you promised," I gave him a playful punch.

"Are you sure your aunt is not going to give you grief over this, Lari? I don't want to get my best friend into trouble," Bard asked as we slowly made our way to the wharf.

"I'm sure. You worry too much, Bard. Aunt Maude is not going to find out about this," I answered firmly.

Bard looked like he wanted to say more, but he just nodded and continued walking. Ever since we were children, he had always let me have the final word. Whether it was because he was kind in that way or it was because he pitied my stubbornness, I had not quite figured out the reason behind it.

When we arrived at the town wharf, Bard's father had already pulled the anchor of his barge up and was preparing to sail. He grinned when he saw us approach, his weather beaten face lighting up.

"You young ones need some fresh air in your nostrils," he said as he winked at me knowingly.

Bard's father was the nicest and jolliest man I ever knew. He enjoyed regular bantering with people and his laugh was the kind that lifted the spirits of others around him. More than once I had wished under the bright stars for my father to be like Bard's, and each time I had felt guilty about it afterwards.

We boarded the vessel and it was slowly steered away from the wharf. Bard's father was responsible for delivering the town's trades with the elves so he was in and out of Esgaroth regularly. Bard perched up on one of the barrels near where I was standing, his legs effortlessly balancing his body. I tilted my head slightly and relished the soft breeze that tickled my fringe. White foam rolled out as the vessel ripped through the calm lake.

"I want to own a barge under my name," Bard spoke suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence between us.

"You've only just turned eighteen years old and still work for your father," I reminded him before cringing slightly at my own pessimism.

"Yes, but I can still wish for it," he answered as he rolled his eyes at me.

"Where would you go?" I asked more kindly this time.

Bard shrugged as he bent down and picked up a loose nail from the floor. He absently mindedly tossed it overboard, watching the scrap of metal sink to the bottom of the water.

"Somewhere warm," he said finally, the light tone returned in his voice as he grinned at me.

The barge stopped at the edge of the bank on the opposite side to Esgaroth. Bard swung his body over the rail while I wisely chose to use the opening at the port. We left his father to his own business with the supplies that were to be sent to the elves, and made our way up the low hill towards the bushes.

It felt good to get away from the wet, icy town and stay where the songbirds chirped happily on the branch which had been warmed from being under the sun. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Bard breathe out deeply - it seemed as though the change in atmosphere was a relief for him as well.

We continued walking for a while longer past the twisted trees before finally arriving at a wide clearing. The land in that area was bare, whatever trees had been planted previously had been completely burnt down to the roots. Bard reckoned the clearing had been made by the wild men many lifetimes ago to train their warriors in combat. Fortunately no wild men could be found in these parts anymore, which meant that the place could be used as our own practice ground for archery without any disturbances.
Bard picked up a broken branch and used it as a marker to draw a think line through the earth in front of my feet.

"Behind this line will give a good shooting range. Now, remember to always hold the arrow head away from you," he instructed as he handed the bow and arrow over to me.

I took the weapon gingerly. It felt unfamiliar to me and a sense of thrill and nervousness churned inside me as I carefully loaded the nock of the arrow against the string. Bard watched me for a second longer before scanning ahead for an appropriate mark.

"Try hitting that tree trunk in front of us," he said eventually as he pointed at the closest tree ahead.

It appeared less than one hundred steps away from where we were standing. Arrogantly confident, I pulled the fletching and string hard before letting go. I was surprised at how stiff the string really was. The arrow flew through the branches, cutting nothing but the air and missing the mark completely. Bard chuckled loudly as he watched, clearly entertained by my misfiring.

"You knew I was going to miss, didn't you," I accused with a huff.

"You need to stand with your legs apart a bit, Lari. And have your shoulders straight in line with your feet...here, let me help," he offered as he tapped my hunched shoulders with his fingers.

With my posture fixed, Bard nodded and offered me a second arrow from his quiver. He held my elbow up in the proper direction, guiding my body to become closer with the bow. I pulled and let go, watching in dismay as the arrow flew past the tree trunk again and fell to the ground.

"Try to feel the arrow, not just pull the string," Bard said as I sat down on the fallen leaves in defeat.

Bard positioned a third arrow before drawing it to his face. He released and the arrow flew past with a smooth sound. There was a snap as its head pierced the trunk cleanly.

"You make it look so easy," I said with a sigh.

Bard laughed softly as he sat down beside me on the ground. I rummaged through my coat pocket and retrieved the two biscuits which I had wrapped in brown paper. I offered one to Bard before biting into my piece. We ate together under the shade away from the burning glare of the sun.

"Why did you ask me to teach you archery all of a sudden, Lari?" Bard asked as he chewed his biscuit thoughtfully.

I looked away, suddenly embarrassed as I began picking the crust distractedly.

"For the same reason you come out every afternoon to practice. I want to be able to wield a weapon, protect myself," I answered with an emphasis on the "protect" part.

Bard remained silent as he listened, a small frown formed above his left eyebrow. We both knew arrows posed little harm to the true threat and danger that haunted Esgaroth and us who lived there. It was comfort that I craved for mostly, the belief that I was safe from the risk that had claimed the lives of so many girls in our village. I didn't think I could admit that truth to Bard, but it turned out he understood me without the spoken words.

"Lari, you're safe here. Your father is not going to offer you to that monster, you know that," Bard replied gently as he looked at me with soft eyes.

I shrugged and pushed the final morsel of the biscuit into my mouth so as to give myself an excuse to not answer. A large, black thrush with a yellow underbelly flew over our heads and landed on a nearby branch. It sang a melodious tune, so blissfully unaware of everything. Bard finished off the last of his biscuit and rubbed the crumbs from his shirt.

"Come on then. We can squeeze in a few more shooting rounds before father finishes loading the barrels," he said as he offered his hand and pulled me up from the ground.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in the clearing. In total I managed to hit my mark three times, of the fifteen or so arrows I shot. The sun remained high in the sky, even after Bard and I packed up and made our way back down to the edge of the bank. As we boarded the barge and sailed once again nearer to the dreary shadow of Esgaroth, I wondered why the sun never fully reached our small town sitting on the Long Lake.

When we arrived back to the wharf, I left Bard to help his father unload the new barrels. They contained fresh goods from Mirkwood which could not be grown over the lake. I didn't make my way straight home though. Making several shortcuts through the tightly spaced buildings, I stopped at the large well standing at the edge of the town square. The well was the only source of fresh water and was shared amongst the villagers. It was nothing more than a dark and deep hole. There were claims that a drunken man once fell into the well, but they were just rumors. I rubbed my frozen hands together before picking up one of the buckets beside the well and pumped clean water into it. It took quite a few pumps to collect enough water to reach the brim.

By the time I had dragged the bucket home, the sun was just beginning to set. The glass fitted on the windows reflected an orange glow. I left the bucket in the hallway and made my way into our small kitchen. Addy was standing by the stove, stirring a large pot of what I assumed to be watered down fish soup. She looked up and smiled briefly when she heard me enter, but her eyes quickly returned back to the soup. Aunt Maude was sitting at the dining table, her fingers tapping the wooden board impatiently.

"Well don't just stand there and act like you are the Master of the town. Your father doesn't know how lazy you are. You're just as helpless as your mother was," she growled as she glared at me.

Aunt Maude was a tall and thin lady, with slit eyes like a serpent's. She moved like one too, always slithering around the house, picking problems to tell me off and call me names. Knowing better than to argue, I wordlessly picked up the laundry basket and made my way to the balcony where the washing was hanging. The 'tap tap' sound of Aunt Maude's fingers could be heard even when I had left the kitchen. Sometimes I felt that Aunt Maude wanted nothing more than to sink her fangs into my flesh.

We ate the fish soup for dinner without father. This was not the first time, it had been years since he had come home to eat with the family. Father returned only after the table had been cleared and Addy and I had been sent upstairs to our room. I could hear his heavy footsteps trudge through the door, and his muffled answers at Aunt Maude's questioning. Addy sat on her bed watching me oddly as I hung my coat in the wardrobe.

"Where were you today, Lari?" She asked, her blue eyes sparkling in curiosity.

"Out on the island. Bard taught me archery," I answered with a grin.

Addy gasped excitedly and she giggled with her hand over her mouth in mock horror. I loved my cousin sister, she understood my desire to get away from Esgaroth. Addy was the daughter of Aunt Maude who was my father's sister. She was eighteen years old like me, but people always thought she was younger because she was small and I was so tall. Her dark brown curls and innocent, blue eyes made her a popular lass among the lads in the town, although she always made it clear that she had a soft spot for Bard only.

"Mother asked where you were. I told her you were helping the fishermen at the wharf," she said proudly.

"Thank you, Addy. You're the best," I hugged her gratefully.

The muffled conversation downstairs suddenly grew louder, enough so we could hear it without trying from our rooms.

"The pay you bring home is not enough," Aunt Maude's voice spoke first.

"We will pull through. We always do," father answered gravely.

"They are calling for volunteers again. The gold they will pay is good-" Aunt Maude was cut off by the bang of a fist on the table.

"I have said it before and I will say it again. We will not be sending either of the girls away!" The anger in father's voice could be heard clearly.

"Then we will all starve together!" Aunt Maude shouted back.

Addy sat petrified on her bed, her face full of fear and worry. I swallowed and sat down on the bed beside her, pulling the covers right over our heads.

"Do you want to hear a story?" I asked softly, trying to drown out the arguing below.

Addy looked at me and nodded with tearful eyes. This was a little ritual we had whenever Aunt Maude and father fought with each other. The stories came to me naturally like a river that was always flowing. I was scared as well, but I cuddled Addy tightly in my arms and began to weave the words in order.

"Once upon a time, there was a thrush that lived in a tree facing the lake..."

I didn't pause once, fearful of the disputes I would hear if I stopped talking. The shouting eventually quietened, and I heard the scrape of the chair as father stood up and left the kitchen. The light leaking through the crack of our bedroom door soon went out, but I didn't leave Addy's side. Instead, I continued telling the story of the thrush that lived over the lake, and Addy listened intently with wide eyes that soon drooped sleepily. I felt like we were alone, two small candles burning away in the growing darkness.

Hello! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please feel free to leave me reviews or PM's :D Thanks~