Journal Entry 2: The Boast

One thing I've learned in my years is that the tounge is a wicked thing. It flies truer than the most skilled arrow. It cuts deeper than the heaviest axe. It can end a life.

I was drinking. A vice I've found to be a friend and an enemy but neither one escapable. I had won a shooting match with against the sargeant-at-arms of the Malkiney clan. I was drinking the reward with my son. A good boy. Still thin and clumsy with a bow but faster than a startled hare. His mother'd died in birthing him. A noble sacrifice. He favoured her with a milky complexion and sunset hair. He'd been a skilled hunter of beasts and beauties. He'd been, had I kept my flapping lips shut.

"Son, who's the greatest marksman in the realm?"

"Ye, dad. No one's your equal in the entire realm!"

It was good for a lad to be proud of his father.

"That's right, boy. Your dad's the best in the whole realm!" I'd said and washed down with another pint of mead.

"Do you really believe that, child?"

I'd spun around and nearly fallen over the table. It was the king's sword, General Keo.

"Of course. My dad could hit a nut from the branch at 200 yards. He's the greatest archer in the whole realm!"

"Is that true, bowman?"

If I'd been sober I'd probably have played it off. If I'd been sober I could've made the shot.

"Yep. My boy's no liar."

"He could shoot a fly off your ear from that distance, too."

"That's right, son."

"Well then let us test this man's amazing marksmanship. Young boy, do you truely believe your father can make those shots?"

"Of course!"

"Then he could certainly hit an apple from only a hundred yards, right?"

"Are you slow, old man?"

"Now, now, son. This here's the general. Don't go insulting people."

"Simply a flaw of youth. No harm done. But I just must see the skill of such an exalted bowman. Come outside with me."

We'd followed Keo out of the bar; me, my boy, and the rest of the bar. Then Keo plucked an apple off of a tree and handed it to my son.

"Would you say that the smith's shop is about a hundred yards?"

"Yeah."

"Run down there and hold that apple on your head."

"Whoa!" I'd protested, steadily becoming more aware of what was happening.

"Go, child. You will see first-hand the skills of your father."

Other patrons had protested. "He's drunk." "He's just a boy."

"Silence! This is the will of the king. Idle boasts will not be tolerated. Archer, if you refuse to attempt this shot I will kill you. If you miss the apple and hit the boy then your boasts will be proven empty to all present. If you make the shot then I will buy a round of drinks in your honor." One of his men shoved my bow into my chest. Keo pulled a single bow from my quiver and handed it to me. "Take the shot."

"Show them, dad! Show them who the greatest archer in the realm is!"

He'd stood there still, confident. The apple, however, was blurring into his hair. The metal door of the smith's was swirling behind him. I raised the bow and notched the arrow. The string was hard to pull back.

"I can't. I'm still drunk."

"Then your life is forfeit. Take the shot."

"Come on, dad!"

He had consigned himself to accept whatever the outcome. That's what I told myself. But he was just a boy. He couldn't have fully understood what was happening.

The arrow dropped into his throat. The bow fell from my hands and I spun on Keo. He punched me hard and I fell unconscious.

I woke up in my bed. I leapt out of it and fell hard on my face. I crawled out of my room. I had to know that it was a dream. At least, dear gods, let it have been misperception.

I crawled through the door and saw him laying on a table. The black sheet laid upon him.

1st Journal Entry. Shame

I've decided to keep this journal on the unsolicited advice of that meddlesome woman, Sigrun. Despite my best efforts to avoid her she still manages to daily assault me with 'advice.' Why wont she just let me drown myself in mead and sorrow?

She says, "You're a good man, Wuldor."

HA! Does a good man kill his only son? Does a good man put his own life above his son's? My answer has been and will always be, "NO!"

I am not a good man. I am the worst kind of murderer and I am a coward.

A brave man would have already killed himself.