Young Writers Society

Chapter 1

Horn Hill was the kind of feature that will always be given a name if there are people in its vicinity. A distinctive shape, that of an upside-down drinking horn, as well as its size determined this. Its peak was the highest point for many miles in all directions, offering unrivalled views of its surrounds, but the hill had few human visitors. One who did sometimes make the effort to climb to its treeless, rocky crown was a young hunter and dreamer known to his community as Telli. He came there on days when he knew the weather would allow him the clearest of views. On one such day, in his fifteenth year, he came to say farewell to his homeland from a favourite seat on a flat rock at the summit.

It was a clear, bright morning in late spring. Songbirds chorused in the forest below and a squirrel-hawk circled high in the sky. Bees buzzed around the flowers under his feet, and Telli was enjoying the sights, sounds and smells he would soon be leaving. With the sun already high above rolling hills to the south east, he could see for great distances from his vantage point.

To his south there were trees, millions and millions of them, as the forest stretched so far away that even the squirrel-hawk's eye could see no end to it. Only the occasional bald, rocky outcrop like Horn Hill itself broke the view. The area of this great forest immediately surrounding the hill was Telli's hunting ground, his home from home, where he knew every shady glade and bubbling brook, and where he spent most of his waking hours.

To the west, the forest became slowly thinner and thinner until it gave way to flat prairie land. This Telli knew to be the haunt of great yellow lions, hunting its herds of giant buffalo. He had never been this way, and few men would dare to go alone, for the big cats hunted in prides of ten or more, each animal weighing as much as two grown men. Telli's own father had perished on these great plains.

To the north, at about two hours' walking distance, the trees stopped abruptly, cleared by men. Telli could see his village of some two hundred wooden homes with thatched roofs, stone chimneys, and a surrounding patchwork of green and yellow fields. A tall fence encircling the village, there to protect children and livestock from the forest's wolves, was clearly visible, and he could just make out wisps of grey-white smoke from early cooking fires rising above some of the houses. The river Elne wound from east to west beyond the settlement, and further north were low purple hills where wild goats grazed on the heather. No signs of human life could be seen in any other direction. As far as the Elne-siders knew, there were none.

Then there was the east. Here the forest lay flat for some distance, then rose slowly over ridge after ridge, each higher than the last. Beyond were tree-covered hills, then higher blue-grey mountains; and behind these, looking like a line of tiny, pointed clouds above the haze, were the snow-covered peaks of the Great White Mountains. It was to the east that Telli gazed for the longest on that fine spring morning. He thought of the tales told by his uncle Takos of the prophet, Drakis, who had led more than two-hundred young followers out of their land on the far side of the mountains, crossing over perilously high, snow-covered passes to become founder of Telli's community nearly three hundred years before. Of how Drakis had planted his staff in the ground when he arrived at the small, fertile delta by the river Elne where the village now lay, and declared this to be the Promised Land. The land where his people could thrive without the terrible wars they had escaped; without the greed for power and for gold that had destroyed so much in the old country.

Looking to the east, Telli thought also of the tales his grandfather loved to tell. Stories passed down through centuries of the Great River, with its trading ships as long as cornfields and wider than houses. Of walled cities with thousands of stone buildings, and of ornate palaces with hundreds of rooms and towers far higher than the tallest of trees. Over the mountains had been the wonders of the world, and the young hunter from Drakisland wished for nothing more than to see if those wonders still existed.

His desire to see the lands in the east was not only due to a thirst for adventure, although Telli certainly had that. He felt that beyond the mountains might be found the answers to many questions he had about life; answers which could not be had in his own small community. And, most important, he wished to find out about certain traits that he thought to be unique in himself.

Sitting in the warming sun, Telli's mind wandered back drowsily to a night four years earlier, when he had discovered the most peculiar of these traits. He had been lying on his bed, playing a game in his mind, a game he played nearly every night before falling asleep. Eyes closed, he would imagine himself to be flying, as perhaps all children do at some time. Flying over fantasy landscapes, up with the birds and amongst the clouds, until the daydream merged into night-dreams, and he fell asleep. On this particular night, Telli had pictured himself as flying in the very room where he lay rather than in some exotic world of the imagination and, to his astonishment, had opened his eyes to find himself floating several inches above his bed. Falling back instantly to the mattress, he had rested there for a few minutes in a state of shock, experiencing a mixture of excitement and exhaustion, as if he had just made a great effort rather than indulging in a pleasant fantasy. On recovering, he had managed to 'fly', or levitate, once again, floating for several seconds at a short distance above the cot.

An unusual child in other ways, Telli had resolved that night to tell no one of his new found ability until he fully understood its nature and what lay behind it. He was both fascinated and worried by his discovery, which seemed to contradict the laws of nature his people believed to have been laid down by their Gods. Now, with four years' examination of this strange talent behind him, he could float up to thirty feet in any direction with great concentration and effort. He still kept to his resolution of secrecy, being no nearer to knowing why he alone should be able to do this seemingly impossible thing. He gazed at the distant peaks of the White Mountains, wondering if the answers might be found in the Old Kingdom of his ancestors beyond.

A movement below jerked Telli's mind back quickly from its reverie. He froze instinctively, moving only his eyes to see what had distracted him. Coming out of the forest onto the southern slopes of the hill was a herd of Yellowhorn, a species of dwarf deer common west of the mountains. They moved cautiously, noses and ears twitching, one or more of them looking around while the others grazed. There were many predators to fear, including Telli.

The boy hunter eased himself slowly off his rock seat on the side opposite to the herd, then licked a finger and held it up to test the wind. After a patient crawl to a point out of sight and downwind of his quarry, he fitted an arrow to his bow and moved forward on both knees until he could see the nearest animal, which had its head down grazing. Telli then stood quickly and, in the split second when he knew the startled deer would look up at him before running away, planted the arrow in its throat. The animal fell dead instantly. It was the knowledge of how his target would move as much as the accuracy of his shooting that had made the youngster already one of the best hunters in his village.

The rest of the herd disappeared quickly into the forest barking their alarms. Telli knelt to the ground to thank his Gods for the luck of an easy kill, and to show respect for the spirit of the victim as was the custom amongst his people. He then drew an axe from the sack on his back and walked down to the trees to make a wooden stretcher on which to tie the deer's carcass. This he would drag home behind him, as even the small Yellow-horn was too heavy to carry over any great distance.

Telli took about four hours to make his journey home, stopping frequently, both to rest and to gather edible roots, herbs, nuts and berries to add to his load. His grandmother would make a feast that night for the family and for many guests. It was his sister's wedding eve, and also the night when Telli must tell the family of his plans to leave them shortly. This last would not be easy, he knew, but how could they stop him? Thinking of his impending departure, he arrived at Elneside village about four hours before sundown and dragged his load through it until he reached the home of his grandfather, old Beyorn the fisher.

The old man was seated on a wooden bench by the open door of his house, where Telli and his sister, Trina, also lived. He smiled a greeting, showing all three of his front teeth.

"We shall feast well tonight, little hunter," he said. "And where did you happen across that fine beast of yours, then?"

"Horn hill. She walked right into my arms," Telli smiled back. "You've not done so badly yourself," he added, nodding towards a barrel of water teeming with silver fish, still alive.

"They swam right into my arms! Your sister is waiting for you and your grandmother will want to start work on that deerling." Beyorn picked up a net he had been mending and went back to work as Telli entered the house, dragging his load behind him into the hall.

The hall of an Elneside home was usually most of the house, that of old Beyorn and his wife, Allina, being no exception. Some fifteen yards long by ten wide, it was used for cooking, eating, working and sometimes sleeping if there was no other space available. There was a large fireplace at one end with a stone chimney, and a long oak table in the centre at which as many as thirty people could be seated on feast nights such as this one. Trina was to get married the next day and her husband would move into the house. Tonight was a welcoming party for him.

Telli's sister, his grandmother and two aunts were busy round the fireplace preparing the night's meal. They welcomed the young hunter and his burden with pleasure and a great fuss.

"We have too much meat, too much of everything," said Allina.

"Thank the Gods. We shall have to stuff ourselves full all week," said Trina, grinning at her brother. "Brill eats like a pig anyway, so it'll soon disappear."

"Don't speak of your man like that before you're even married," chided an aunt who was standing by the fire turning a spit on which a large boar was already roasting.

"Alright, I'll start calling him names tomorrow if I must wait," Trina replied, winking at Telli. Telli smiled back at her, suddenly realising just how much he would miss his sister when he left Elneside. The two were matching siblings and, if Telli had been a few inches taller, could have been twins. They shared the same dark brown, almost black hair, light brown complexion and striking black eyes; Trina's usually smiling, and Telli's more often dreamy, but piercing when he was alert and interested in what was around him. He helped the women put his contribution to the feast where they wanted it, then left through a door which led to the sleeping rooms of the house where he could change from his hunting clothes and wash himself. He would then help to prepare the food for the party.

*

People started arriving at old Beyorn's house just before sundown. They were nearly all relatives of Trina or her fiancé, Brill, and all knew one another well. Beyorn greeted them at the door with Trina by his side. On entering the hall, guests would be given a large cup of wine or mead by Allina, and would sit where they chose to around the long table. All feasts in this small community began in much the same way, so that all of its members knew what was expected of them. When all those invited had arrived, toasts were drunk to the betrothed couple, and the first plates of food were served. Plates piled high with meat, fish, vegetables or fruit, from which the gathering helped themselves, spooning the food into wooden bowls and making any mixture they chose.

Telli looked around the table of plenty, at the happy, smiling faces, and thought that he must be slightly mad to dream of leaving his village for lands of which he knew nothing. The Elnesiders lived well. The forest, the river and their fertile fields provided more than they needed, and they had no neighbours to compete with for land or hunting grounds. Indeed, to Telli's knowledge, no-one from the settlement had ever even seen a human being from outside the community since their ancestors had arrived there with Drakis the prophet three centuries before. But curiosity is a powerful force, and Telli was not the first youngster from the banks of the Elne to dream of a more interesting and exciting life that might be found elsewhere.

The guests at Trina's party did not remain in one place, but moved around to serve themselves food and drink, and to change partners in conversation. At one point, Telli found himself next to his sister on one side and Brakis the hunter, an old friend, on the other. He had talked to both on several occasions of his wish to see the lands east of the White Mountains. Now, with the wine starting to reach his head, he chose to announce his intention of leaving within the next few days. Trina was not having it.

"You are mad, you are still a child, and why should you want to leave us anyway?" She didn't wait for an answer, but announced loudly to the gathering that her crazed brother was talking of leaving Drakisland to die in some foreign place. Allina looked over from the end of the table where she was carving up venison.

"The boy speaks nonsense," she said. "He is as his father was -- head full of dreams and never content with the good, simple life the Gods have blessed us with -- and look what came of him." Telli's father had been killed by prairie lions ten years before while hunting buffalo (which he did not need to do).

Brakis came to Telli's defence, saying that he too had often dreamed of travelling.

"How do we know our life is so good when we have nothing to compare it with?" he reasoned. "However, the mountains are high and snows cover their peaks. Even if Telli is serious about this journey, he will probably be back within a few weeks to tell us that they cannot be crossed."

Others joined in the discussion. Most did not seem to take Telli's intentions seriously. Those who did generally tried to discourage him on account of his age, and on the basis that there was no reason to leave his Elneside home and many a good reason for staying there. Old Beyorn looked at his grandson from under bushy white brows, smiled a little, and said nothing. Conversation turned to other things. The marriage taking place the next day, which the entire population of the settlement would attend, and speculation as to other matches that might be arranged in the near future. There was talk of the weather, the crops, some gossip and scandal, some hunting and fishing news. Telli listened to the familiar talk and felt increasingly that he was different from the others present; that he was not intended by fate or by the Gods to lead the same kind of life. For one thing, whoever had heard of a man who could fly? He knew that if he told the others of this strange discovery about himself, they would not believe him until he lifted himself off the ground before their eyes, and he had no intention of doing so.

The feast continued past midnight, with less and less eating and more and more drinking. Songs were sung. Songs they all knew well. Some were Elneside tunes, but some were very old, coming from the times before Drakis had crossed the mountains and concerning near forgotten people and places. Places, Telli knew, that might still exist. His grandfather came and sat beside him, bringing two cups of the strong, sweet mead he made from wild bees' honey.

"So, little hunter, do you really mean to leave us?" The old man spoke as though he knew the answer.

"I must. I have decided. I wish to go now," said Telli. Old Beyorn sighed and sipped from his cup thoughtfully.

"When I was young, I dreamed also," he said. "I dreamed of a life that offered more than merely providing for my needs, and those of my family. Once, I even set off for the White Mountains, but turned back after three days. I was a little older than you are now and could not live without a pretty girl I knew, little Allina." He looked along the table to where his wife sat watching them.

"Then you understand?"

"I do not want you to go, but I do understand, perhaps. Yet you are different from others," said the old man, putting Telli's own thoughts into words. "Of all the young men who have left, perhaps you will be the first who does not turn back for home. Whichever way, you have my blessing." Old Beyorn smiled. "Anyway, if you have truly decided to go, we can hardly tie you down to your bed for the rest of your life, can we?"

Telli had not expected his grandfather to be so easy on him, and knew that he would find more opposition from his grandmother and from Trina. He had no worries about their welfare in his absence. Brill was a good man and would be moving into the house the next day, and Telli's grandparents were surrounded by relatives -- he was just one of their nine grandchildren. Knowing that they had brought him up in their house since his mother had died at his birth, he wished to leave with a clear conscience, and the old man's blessing was important to him.

The party reached its liveliest point. Two harps, drums and a wooden flute were being played, and two of Telli's cousins had started to dance on the table. He caught the eye of pretty cousin Rita, his own age, and with his head swimming from the mead he jumped up to join her. Others followed until the solid oak table shook beneath them. Brill and Brakis swung Trina up onto the centre of the table, knocking two of the dancers off, and Brill leapt up to join her in an impromptu wedding dance. The normally staid and reserved character of the Elne-siders was forgotten on such occasions. Even Beyorn and Allina took a turn at table dancing despite the latter's fears for her furniture.

Then Telli forgot himself. Still dancing, he reached down for a cup of wine offered to him by an aunt, and drained it in one go. Then, concentrating as best he could, he leapt for a beam above him, placed his hands on it and swung his legs upright over his head. Flipping over completely, he landed with perfect balance back on the table. The other dancers gasped in amazement, then applauded, fortunately too confused with wine and the excitement of the occasion to notice that the feat was near enough humanly impossible.

"Ooooh Telli! How wonderful!" Rita's pretty eyes shone with admiration, much to her cousin's gratification.

Then Telli caught the eye of Brakis. The hunter was staring hard at him and shaking his head slowly from side to side. As Telli met his gaze, Brakis winked an eye without smiling and pressed his forefinger to his lips to indicate secrecy or silence. Telli had used his strange talent to show off in public, and the shrewd hunter had noticed that something was not as it should be.

*

The wedding ceremony took place at noon the next day and in the Elneside tradition it was brief, with many of the participants suffering from their excesses of the night before. The whole village attended while Trina and Brill had their union blessed by the High Priest (Telli's uncle Takos) on the common land in the centre of the settlement. They then went about their business, with only the heads of each family congregating at Beyorn's house, bearing gifts for the young couple. Later in the afternoon the fire was re-lit in the family hall, and the festivities recommenced.

Telli had noticed Brakis looking at him thoughtfully during the ceremony. He wasn't surprised when the hunter arrived at the house later and sat beside him at the long table.

"I must talk with you, son," Brakis said after eating a little. "Will you come outside?"

Telli followed him to the back of the house, where they were alone. Brakis sat down on a low wooden fence, and began to speak.

"About two months ago, I was in the forest on my way back from a morning's hunt. As I walked, I saw a figure come down from a tall fruit tree about eighty yards ahead of me. I hid behind a bush and watched carefully, because this being did not seem to be climbing down by means of the branches, but rather, was drifting down between them while carrying a load of fruit in both arms. At the foot of the tree, he appeared to look around carefully, then picked up a bundle from the ground in which he put the fruit. Then he set of in the direction of the Elne. I followed carefully, but saw nothing else unusual. I caught up with you, Telli, as you entered the village, if you remember."

"Why did you say nothing?" asked Telli.

"For one thing, the light of the sky had been in my eyes, and I was not sure until your display last night that I had seen anything out of the ordinary. There was another thing also. Something that worried me."

"Which was...?"

Brakis sighed.

"There are old stories from our people before they came here to Drakisland, which you may have heard. Stories of wise Holy Men who, by prayer and meditation, could actually raise themselves off the ground as you seem to be able to do. But there are also tales of men possessed by demons who appeared to do the same. I know you well, Telli, and although you are no Holy Man, I am certain that you are no demon either." He smiled briefly through his beard, then became serious again. "Others may not be so sure."

"Would that matter so much?" Telli asked.

"Perhaps, yes," Brakis replied. "Here at Elne-side, many years ago when my grandfather was a young boy, there was a girl of about fifteen years who was seen to lift herself off the ground without knowing how or why she had done so. The priests were convinced that she was controlled by demons, which they tried to exorcise. No one knew exactly what happened excepting the priests who were present, but in the course of their efforts to cleanse her the poor girl died. You have been discreet about your gift, or curse, or whatever it is; and you would do well to be even more so in the future, here or anywhere else you might find yourself."

Brakis then asked Telli questions about how he had discovered his ability to levitate, how far and how high he could go, and whether these distances were improving with age and experience. On receiving the answers, he smiled and commented that Telli was still a long way from being able to fly over the house, let alone the White Mountains. Then he added, to the boy's surprise, that speaking of which (the White Mountains) he would like to join Telli on his journey if he was still intending to go; if it had not been the wine talking the night before.

"Think about it," he said, "and give me your answer tonight if you can." Then he left to rejoin the merry-making inside the house.

Telli stayed outside for a while, considering Brakis's suggestion. He had only thought of journeying alone because it had not occurred to him that anyone else would wish to join him. Certainly, there was unlikely to be a more useful companion in Elneside than the hunter. Brakis was a tall, agile man, just over forty years of age, with a permanently tanned face half concealed by his greying beard, and a pair of broad shoulders on which he could carry a full-grown deer with ease. He was held in great respect by the younger hunters of the village as the best guide to and teacher of the ways of the forest. There was something else which made it likely that he might be prepared to leave Elneside for a long period of time and would not worry too much about risk to his life. Brakis had no wife or children to care for.

The story behind this was well known to Telli and to his family. Brakis as a young man had been handsome, carefree, and much admired by the girls of the village. He had fallen in love with, and married, a young woman named Esmelda, considered by many to be the most beautiful in Elneside. She was the sister of Telli's mother. It had seemed a match made by the Gods, but Esmelda had fallen ill suddenly after nearly a year of marriage, and had died at noon (the marriage hour) on the first anniversary of their wedding. The timing had seemed a deliberate blow by the hand of fate. Brakis had gone mad with grief, and had heaved a huge rock onto a shrine dedicated to the Goddess of Love, before disappearing into the forest, saying he would never return. It had been Telli's father, Brakis's best friend, who had tracked him down many months later living wild in the forest and persuaded him to come home. The carefree young man was no more, and Brakis had never trusted the Love Goddess; he had never married again.

Telli re-entered the house, his decision made. He nodded to Brakis, and sat beside him. The two talked quietly for a few minutes, arranging to meet the next day. Then both settled down to enjoy what might be their last Elneside feast. The night went on much as the night before, with eating and drinking, singing and dancing, until Telli retired to bed in the early hours of the morning, when the last of the guests were leaving. He fell asleep knowing his life was about to change, dreaming of the great White Mountains and what he might find beyond them.