The Boy From The Forest

The Oracle sat in her hut. It was in the great Forest, a small distance from the village of Om. There was a small fire burning in the center of the dirt floor. The smoke from a fire is useful for keeping away the biting insects that swarm in the summer. She fed the fire bits of wood while preparing the ingredients for her meal.

She heard footsteps. A group of children, from the sound of it. Children liked to try to sneak a peek at the mysterious Oracle. In just another second, they would be looking in the doorway of her hut.

The Oracle raised her hands and turned her face upward, as if in deep meditation. The smoke curling from the fire added to the effect.

“Ohhhh!! She is in deep communion!!”

“I bet she is speaking to the spirits!!”

Then they were gone in a rush. The little blabbermouths would spread all sorts of rumors all over the village. Once you got a reputation, it was easy to enhance it.

She began to chop a few vegetables and put them into the corroded bronze cooking pot. One of this, a couple of that. There was a bit of rabbit meat that was still good. Footsteps again, a woman by herself.

“Blessed Oracle.”

“Come in, my child.” It was a young woman, not yet married.

“Blessed Oracle, I have a great need. I need to know who will be my husband.” So ‘not yet married’ was the problem. The Oracle had been married five times, and yet, she was alone now.

“Blessed Oracle, I look at the young men of the village. All of them seem kind of nice. One is stupid, so never mind about him. Some of them have talked to me. I just don’t know what to DO!!”

“The full moon festival will be held in two days. There will be a big bonfire and dancing. Some will drink the fermented sour persimmon juice until they fall down like those dead.

“When the dancing starts, stand a short distance from the fire by yourself. Do not cluster with the other young women. Just stand there not doing much of anything. Before long, one of the young men will ask you to dance. Go dance with him.”

“Blessed Oracle!! What will happen then?”

“My child, I cannot tell you all the secrets at one time. Go and do as you have been told.”

“Thank you, Blessed Oracle.” The young woman gave the Oracle a carrot and then left the hut.

The carrot went into the stew. People gave what they could.

The Oracle had been married five times, and none of them had lasted. The first husband died of the fever. The second had left her for a prettier woman. That hurt, but then she met the third husband. He did just fine until a bull chased him over a cliff. The bull stopped in time, and he was still in the cow pasture with the other cattle.

The fourth husband died from eating some mushrooms. Some in the village knew what mushrooms you could eat, but this man got it wrong. The fifth husband just disappeared. No one knew what had become of him.

So she decided to become an Oracle. The old woman who had been the wise woman had passed away a couple years before, so there was an opportunity. She made herself a necklace with some mystic looking symbols. She performed timeless arcane rituals that she made up as she went along. Soon people were coming to her for advice on life’s mysteries.

After she had eaten her meal, a young man came asking how to find a woman to marry. She told him to stand by himself a little distance from the fire. It would be fun to see how that worked out.

Now here was another one. This was the chief of the village.

“Blessed Oracle, I need you to consult the spirits about a matter of great importance.”

“The spirits reveal their mysteries to whom they will.” As far as she could ever tell, there was no such thing as spirits.

“Blessed Oracle, the people of the Forest here have prospered in recent years. Our numbers have increased.” Yes, there were a lot of little urchins that came to peek into her hut. She was never sure what they expected to see.

“We go into the Forest, which provides us with food, fuel, and clothing for our bodies. But in recent years, there are too many of us for the Forest to provide for. I have seen two men fighting over a dead rabbit. When I told them to share it, they accused me of wanting part of it.

“The hunters have already killed all the deer south of the village. Now that they are all dead, how will there ever be any more deer? Blessed Oracle, how are the people of the Forest to survive?”

This was a hard one. The chief had the vision to look beyond the day-to-day affairs of the village and see where things might be going.

“The spirits retain their mysteries and reveal them only to those with whom they are pleased. Mere mortals must always be in submission to those who are above them.” The pantheon of the Forest people was at best vague and nebulous.

Before he left, the chief gave her a bit of deer bone with the meat still on it. Yes, things were getting lean in the Forest, and the Oracle had no idea what to do about it.

“Ho the castle.” Sir David was very glad to see the castle of The King.

“Hey, who is that!!” Sir Bob shouted from his post high on the castle wall.

“Sir Bob, who is who?

“Over there, walking down the road. It looks like a knight walking along.”

“Sir Bob, you are mistaken. A knight rides on a horse.” Sir Harold was in denial about there being anybody there.

Now The King appeared beside them on the battlements. The top of a castle wall is called the battlements, even if there is not a battle going on.

“Ho, there Sir Knight. Who be thou, and whither art thou bound?” The King spoke in a formal manner. The King sometimes liked to do things himself, rather than delegate. Like talking to this lone knight.

“I be Sir David, late of the nation of Perrytown. I have been wandering in search of The King, that I may offer my sword and service to him.”

“It was a shame what befell Perrytown. A very great shame.” Now High Marshall Maurice deConquerer appeared on top of the battlements. High Marshal Maurice deConquerer was The King’s second in command, and he usually had some pertinent comment to offer.

“Aye, my Lord. At the end, just a handful of us got away, a few in every direction. And I am here to humbly offer my service to The King.”

The King ran down the ladder to the ground. This was quite an accomplishment, since he was wearing his crown, armor, and golden spurs. But down he came.

“Very well, we can always use a good man. Since I do not know you or your family, you will have to swear by my sword, Cumberfordtte.” The King drew his great sword Cumberfordtte. The day was overcast and cloudy, but Cumberfordtte reflected the light as in the brightest sunlight.

“You shall swear by Cumberfordtte, and you must really mean it.” This was Johanaston; sorcerer of The King. He had a long robe and pointed hat, both of indeterminate color. In his right hand was a long staff with some kind of arrangement of something at the top of it.

Sir David swore by Cumberfordtte, swearing his loyalty to The King. He was careful to really mean it. The King directed that he be given a horse and put in the Fifth Regiment.