Chapter Two of The Iron Hands of Winter

Chapter 2: The Bowman

         They left at sunrise the following morning, and as cold as it was, James and Bren were making very little progress. Living alone in the woods for nearly ten years, James had grown very fond of his little cottage outside Berkshire. Though he became lonely from time to time, he rather enjoyed himself there. He knew he would greatly miss it.
         After a few hours of walking across the soft and deep snow Bren finally spoke, “If we can get past these flatlands by nightfall, we’re likely to reach Harristown in the morning. But that’s if we get lucky and dodge this next storm.”
         “We’d be there late this afternoon if we would have taken the roads,” said James.
         “Well, I’d rather get there alive in the morning than get ambushed on the roads,” replied Bren as he stepped over a log.
         “Lord Durin’s assassins are everywhere, and they’re looking for the both of us,” Bren added.
         “How does he know I’m with you?” James asked.
         “Good question,” replied Bren, “his followers are everywhere though, so I figure it was only a matter of time until he found out.”
         They stopped for lunch under a big oak tree, and ate some bread, as well as some bacon James had burnt earlier that morning. Bren was cautiously looking at the nearly black, extra-crispy strips of bacon.
         “What?” James asked.
         “Oh…nothing,” Bren snorted.
         “What? You know I’ve never been much of a cook…” James added.
         “Oh no, I think we both know that,” said Bren, finally scoffing down the last of his burnt bacon sandwich, and with a mouthful of food added, “I gurs if yeh can’t da mashic an’more you could always ‘cook’ Lord Durin to death.”
         James shook his head and finished his own sandwich.
         Bren stood up, “Well, back out in this winter wonderland we go.”
         They both treaded upon the vast snowy earth for the rest of the afternoon. The land that stretched from Berkshire to the edge of Harrison was nothing but flat plains. The old oak tree which they had stopped near for lunch was the only tree they had seen within a hundred miles. A barren and abandoned land, travelers were never seen walking across it. But as these two wizards crossed it, they had no idea the hardships that each would soon encounter.
         At sunset Bren and James could vaguely see the mountains which enclosed the rough town of Harrison. They had made great time but would wait until morning to head into town.
         Unrolling his sleeping mat, James asked Bren, “Why are we going into town? Wouldn’t it be much faster if we just followed the pass south of town?”
         “Yes,” answered Bren, “but there’s someone we need to see. Hope the young fellow’s still around…”
         “Who?”
         “That,” replied Bren, “Is something I think you should see for yourself; Quite a talented boy.”
         Knowing he wouldn’t get anything more out of him, James laid down and pulled his blanket overtop himself. He couldn’t keep from thinking about Anna. Where was she? And was she still alive? He let his thoughts fall back to the summer he and Anna had spent together ten years ago. James, Bren and Anna had barely gotten out of Aydenza alive. Durin’s father, Kalaro had caused devastation everywhere. He and his followers, Dark Hauhns they were called, went from village to village killing thousands of innocent people. Lord Kalaro, which was considered the darkest wizard of the age, had only one goal, to annihilate all those who opposed them, and the rest he had killed were merely for sport. He had grown so powerful that no one dared try and stop him. When Bren had caught word of this he had confronted James, and later Anna, of Lord Kalaro’s plans for destruction. Ten years ago Bren, James, and Anna had gone into Kalaro’s very castle and defeated him in a mighty duel. Now Kalaro’s son Durin assumes his fathers role and has no doubt, wanted revenge. It was up to Bren and James to save Anna, and James hoped and prayed they were successful.