East Yard

[HHunter1]

Hello,
A while ago I was creative writing with a friend I met online. I would share a part then they would share a part. Then they suddenly seemingly just stopped replying. I’m not sure what happened but I hope their alright.
Anyway, I had this idea and written it out then shared it with them. I will not be sharing their additions or my works off them as I don’t have permission from my missing friend. But I may add new chapters later if there is an interest in the start of this story. Hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think.

HH1

CH 01: A Fearful Return

Lavender awoke to a beautiful morning. Sun shined into her little window of their weaved straw house. A popular newer type of structure since the old Lumberer had stopped attending the lands of Eastyard. Papa had been one of the last men to move up out of an underhouse, and she remembered her first sun shining morning and fell in love with them.

Now they have lived in this house since the years of prosperity had started so many years ago. Papa did so well as a harvester that he now had four wives to produce him many sons. As first daughter of his first wife she was given her own little room. Course Papa also made it no secret that as his first child she held a certain high spot in his heart.

Thistle and Daisy were serving breakfast for the family. Lavender was greeted with two warm hugs and even warmer boiled seeds. Leftovers from the winter stock, used up so nothing goes to waste. Soon Dandelion seeds and nectar would soon be a regular breakfast.

She took her bowl out into the patch of shorter grass that allowed laundry to be dried. It also allowed her to feel the happy sun on her skin. Mama waved from hanging clothes, “Your father is looking for you on the mound.”

“Thanks Mama.” She replied. Rushing over to where a little bump in the ground had formed after the old Lumberer had stopped having the land ravished.

This meant plants would grow strong and tall. Papa’s lands were filled with seeding plants. Better yet a few years ago Raspberry trees grew on this land. Raspberries sold well to the upper families in the city in the shed. Another area of growth since the Lumberer stopped coming out to tend its own garden.

All this good fortune was good for Lavender as well. Dad would often boost after a touch too much honey mead of how prosperous her dowry was. It had to be as he told it as at last fall’s Matching Festival, Roland, the king’s head advisor, had his handsome son Gunther spend time with her. They both had a wonderful time enjoying the stalls and booths of the festival. Hands hooked together as they watched the bonding ceremony of the new wives being bound to their new husbands. She saw Papa and Roland joyfully shake their hands in agreement at their connection. Though Papa would not confirm the agreement to her no matter how she begged.
She hoped it was as it appeared. Gunther was a handsome tall Fae-Rae. Training in the Military gave him a firm form. But as the head advisor’s son he would never face the dangers of raiding or combat. He would be part of the court of the King. And she would be his first wife, head of his household. She would live in a wall shielded home with servants. She would miss the harvesting area, but was looking forward to her first time servicing her husband’s bed needs and producing his first children.

Crow called overhead happily. As tradition she waved to the day cousin. His bride had yesterday nabbed a garter snake that was worried would be a danger to the smaller children. This went well with the news that Cousin Owl had grabbed a large rat that had started raiding harvester’s stores. She remembered when she was small asking her parents why Crow and Owls ate other creatures their size but never ate Fae-Raes. Mother, the daughter of a poor priest, told the faith stories of how Crow and Owl became the Fae-Rae’s day and night cousins. Papa waited for Mama to finish and go to do other work and teased it was because Fae-Raes tasted bad to them.

Papa saw her rush up. “You need to sit and eat your breakfast like a proper lady. Not shove it in your maw as you rush about.” He teased, but he was right. This behavior was wrong for her future life.

“Sorry Papa. Just wanted to see what you wanted me to look after today.” She loved her father. Tall and strong. Still youthful enough that a few of her aged friends noted an interest in becoming his fifth wife.

He smiled looking over the land. “Bees are dancing early this morning. Last winter was kind and Spring’s rains were gentle. Looks like another rich harvesting season this year. Good for your little sister’s Dowries.”

“And how can I help them find good husbands?” She asked.

“With that garter gone and Owl chased off any rats from the area. Why don’t you take them to flat rock to play about. Too rough and no men will want them no matter what I pack into their chests.” her father advised.

“And my dowry?” she asked.

“All ready. A lucky young man will be waiting for it at the Bonding Festival in the fall.” Papa teased.

“And he is?” she pried.

A smile told he wouldn’t break tradition and advised, “Hoping the summer passes fast. Now go gather the little ones. Today, even I won’t have to do much. We are blessed by this land with another easy day.”

She finished her breakfast and gathered many of the children. Her closer siblings came along to help watch them. They arrived at the flat rock. The rains had left a small pond for them to skip pebbles across. An old stick allowed them to climb and scale. Talents they would need in the fall to help harvest late berries and seeds.

Neighboring families must have also found it would be an easy day as more older siblings guiding their young ones arrived and games of chase and ball started. Bronto smiled in a way that made her skin go warm. She found herself hoping if Gunther hadn’t accepted her Dowry that Bronto did. His broad harvest trained body and thick black hair was a welcome addition to this day.

It was shortly after they had gathered that she heard something. Looking up, Lady Crow and her husband flew in circles called out. She called back and waved. Then she noticed they were not the usual calls. These were cautioned, warning yells from their day cousins. “We should gather the children.” she says to Bronto.

He looked up and nodded, “Everyone come close now please.”
As the older siblings herd the younger a sound touches Lavender’s ears. It was familiar somehow. Her foggy memory only hints that is danger. But what? What could it be and why were the Crows so agitated? Then her mind suddenly screamed with realization, it was a mower.

“Run to the standing rock. A mower is coming!” She screamed at the gathered youth.

Many of the younger children had no idea what a mower was. The old Lumberer hadn’t tended theses lands in years. She was tiny still when a mower last made harvests hard. The whole reason that straw houses were now about was because there had been no more mowers.

Bronto suddenly accepted this horrible fact that a mower had returned. Grabbing his smallest brother and hefting him into his grip he pointed and shouts, “Lavender is right. Run that way now!” A man spoke and they listened.

Lavender ran, making sure the small children were before her. The older siblings shepherding the younger towards the one real hill in Eastyard. A craggy boulder that sat to one side of the fields. A place of climbing in early springs and late falls. The mossy top was great for summer picnics. But today it was the internal catacombs that they wanted. The rock walls would protect them from mower blades.

It was getting louder and louder. Soon the ground they ran across would be shredded by the machine’s pass. She had to keep stopping and lift or pull smaller children. Her mind screamed for her to run for her own life, but she couldn’t lose her brothers or sisters. Papa would never forgive her.
Into the under cave the gathering made it. No one else was here. Bronto shouted for one of his brothers when a girl Lavender didn’t know well pointed out towards the coming sound and said trembling, “He fell out there.”

“I’ll be right back, stay with Lavender.” he commanded his younger siblings and dashed back into the towering grass.
The sound was getting closer and closer. Lavender vaguely remembered that mowers had terrible sucking wind that traveled with them. “Everyone, go to the dripping cave now.” she screamed.

“But Bronto.” one of his siblings begged.

“Now.” she screamed. Worried for the towering Fae-Rae man as well.

Soon he came into view carrying a young crying boy. Then her heart froze, she could see the front of the mower. Hungry eating the tall plants and anything else in its path. Moving so much faster than Bronto could ever go.

Bronto looked over his shoulder then moved his brother. His muscles strained and the boy flew towards her. Lavender dashed out and caught the lad. Quickly backing into the cave begging Bronto to make it.

But the machine was too fast. His little brother stretched as the machine’s winds lifted the man off the ground. Lavender turned inside the cave to claw her fingers into the holes in the side of the wall. She watches as Bronto disappears up and under that horrible machine. It’s whirling blades chopping whatever is pulled into their range. If Bronto screamed in fear or pain she couldn’t tell over the roar of that metal beast.
It was pulling at her as it approached. Then it suddenly turned and ravaged away from the rock. She had to see where it was going. Dropping the wailing boy in the dripping cave she took the up cave to the mossy ledged.

There it went. Yards away in as little time as it took a crow to fly the same distance. She knew the family homes along that path and looked to where they would have been to hope for signs of life. Maybe an old mower cellar or seed store would open and those parents would be alive. No stones lifted. Just short shorn plants trembling in the breeze.

The machine was returning. A path where Bronto’s family harvesting area was. Lavender could see panicked parents gathering and directing remaining working children. But they were directing them towards this very hill. They would never make it. She begged them to turn and run east. To where that horrible machine had already eaten the life giving plants. They wouldn’t be able to out do the Lumberer pushing the destroying thing.

Bronto’s father learned that too late. He thought he might slow the beast and hurled a spear at its closest tire. It didn’t land, dashed by the machine’s winds. The barrel chested man was lifted from the ground and taken by the machine. His second wife was next. Being pregnant, she couldn’t run fast. Lavender felt a tear trickle down her cheek as the woman was lifted up and in, holding her unborn child the whole way.
Bronto’s mother was next. In her panic she wrapped limbs around a thick raspberry stock. She managed to hold on till the machine traveled over her. But no sign of her as it passed. Bronto’s sister fell. Next summer would have been her last summer with her family before her bounding if that machine had any caring. It didn’t.

Lavender watched as a straw house was basically pushed over and ravaged by that machine. Families in terror fueled run came dashing towards this hill only to be devoured to a member. Others in their panic try to hide in the tall grass. Their fear made them forget that was what mowers eat most. And as it ate the tall plants it also dined on them.

Her heart froze. It was heading towards where her home hid in the field. Too far to see if Papa or Mama had gotten away. Did Martess and Gangla reach a safe spot. She could see her house and the out buildings. Her ears cruelly noted the change in the blades’ whirring sounds as it rend her home from the Earth. Everything they owned, every happy memory diced like soft shelled seeds. She vomited.

Other crying voices told her she wasn’t the only one witnessing these horrid actions. She tried to look upon anything but the metal machine raping the life from these lands. It’s operator.

The old Lumberer had been carried away by other Lumberers last summer. So this Lumberer was new to her. Tall, well they were all tall to her. He was wearing long pants and a shirt with no sleaves. A hat popular with Lumberers as far as she knew and shaded lens glasses. Round buds with a bracket cover his ears. He had the round belly of the successful merchant types that had come about as prosperity had lasted longer and longer. Up to a flat upper chest that hinted he once was an active man. Arms larger than some neighbor’s houses.
The worst was his face. She wanted him to have evil features or to be as hideous as his actions. But they were not. He looked like a kind man. Like the type to help his neighbors with a bit of food during a hard winter. Handsome even in a way for a man of his age. His smile looked welcoming. His mouth danced like he was singing. If he was she couldn’t hear his tune over that rending mower.

She couldn’t look at the Lumberer any more. Nor watch the death he was unknowingly bringing. She staggered down to the dripping cave and openly started dripping tears as well.
Soon one of her brothers told her, “The Lumberer is gone.”
The group starts out of the cave and into the destroyed field. The plants and grass are barely taller than they are. A strange fine dusting of green bits made following the path difficult. Lavender soon realized the scattering is how small that mower made the bits of plant that it devoured. Forbidding his siblings from picking any up. Worried they would discover a bit that wasn’t plant. Since its victims would likely be diced as small as well.

She staggers into where she had grown up. Frantically she dashed to the house, to find the seed cellar. As if they realized she would need help to clear the area in her search, Crow landed, fluttered about and lifted off. The floor of her home sat empty.

She reached where the kitchen should have been. A bloody smear tore at her hope. She lifted the cellar door. Inside were scattered seeds and more bits of that green debris. Part of the under board had scraps across it. Finger spaced groves like they were pried along the thick wood against their will. She closes the door. She collapsed, suddenly surrounded with her younger siblings clinging to their last protector.

Just as he stomach started to complain a wagon appeared. Word of the disaster had reached the shed and the King had sent his army to collect his surviving citizens. Soon she was eating boiled old seeds for lunch. Learning horribly that the ones from the Standing Rock were the only survivors.
They arrived in the Market area under the bush by the shed. The King asked hopefully to his general, “And the others?”

The General took a deep breath to gather strength and answered, “We found no others, sire.”

The King started to topple before Roland and another caught the rotund man. Panicked voices started, What about harvest? What will we eat? What are we going to do with those children? If the Lumberer mowed there does that mean he’ll whip around here again?

Soon solutions rained back, Lets raid the other kingdoms! Send those leeches back into the wilderness! War on that Lumberer!

Roland held up his hands and the crowd stopped. He was a well respected man. Coming second only to the king in power. He climbed up on an empty wagon, “Everyone, everyone claim please. Your majesty, I have a suggestion. As one of the scouts described the Lumberer didn’t seem to be targeting the homes nor even noticed Fae-Rae presence. It is likely he as a stupid towering human just wasn’t observant enough to see the poor harvesters. I think a simple solution is break from tradition and go into the Lumberer chambers and tell him we live here.”

The crowd gasped at this strange idea. Lumberers were monstrous and cruel according to legends. Fae-Raes went into their soups or crushed beneath their hands and heels. But Roland just let them murmur the raised his hand again and the mob silenced. “But my advisor if we tell him we are here wouldn’t he just destroy faster?”

“I, in my research on this new Lumberer, says otherwise. From his magic library it looks like he has a fascination with Fae-Rae sized people. I am certain that if properly approached he could be made from a danger to an advantage. And the approach I suggest I know he’ll like and solve part of our other problem.” Roland advised. Lavender didn’t like how he pointed towards the full wagons when referring to other problems.

“And what approach is that?” The King asked.

“Well, as you know the younger survivors could be easily found homes as adopted additions or as servants. The problem we have is, from what I can tell, six of them are of Bounding age girls. Bounding age with no more Dowry means they would not be of interest to any men looking to start or expand their families. And no first wives are going to want nubile unattached serving girls their age in their homes. We should offer those six young ladies with no future to that Lumberer to ensure ours.” Roland proudly explained his plan.

Lavender’s heart raced in panic. She looked into the crowd for a supporting face against that mad idea. None, they cheered on her sacrifice. Gunther saw her looking at him and turned away in disgust, without her dowry she wasn’t worth his attention.

“Guards take the young ones to the temple to start finding them new homes. Gather the Bondable aged ladies to fulfill Roland’s brave plan.” the King commanded.

Lavender was torn from her wailing siblings. She was dragged with five others of her age to an empty wagon and bound to the inside. Guards stood around the wagon. People approached and thanked them for their sacrifice. Marina told of the truth and begged to be rescued. But none even suggested they would.

Roland approached and actually gave her a sad look. Then to a guard he commanded, “Take them to my home. My staff is waiting to bathe and dress them for their presentation to our new neighbor.”

“Yes my lord.” the Guard replied.

Lavender was taken to that home. Larger by her home by far. Ladies, servants and wives of Roland forced the six of them to strip. Lavender could only think of one reason she needed to be bathed and seasoned with flower scents. Like when you find a root bulb, you don’t want grit in your teeth. They were given clothes not suited for public sight. Barely clad with sparkling beads. A cloak hid their near nakedness.

They were reloading into the cart. Roland rode in his own fancy wagon. Traveling towards the scariest of locations, the Lumberer’s house. The warriors that traveled with them wore Roland’s colors and not the Kings.

Hethrea asked in a whisper, “Will the Lumberer eat us?”

Marina nodded in defeat, “Likely. What else could we be to that towering beast.” A guard hushed them.

They reached the crack the brave raiders used for years to gather Lumberer items when the old Lumberer lady lived in the towering building. The building’s top was well beyond Lavender’s ability to see. In a dusty strange old dry wood smell path they were carried on soldiers’ backs. Using metal posts sticking out from the wood as a ladder they traveled deeper into the land of her nightmares.

Cooking meat could be smelled. Lights powered by unknown powers made the inside glow. Lavender’s stomach growled, it was supper time she realized. Roland stopped and told his commander, “Wait here.”

The tall Fae-Rae man walked out like he had done at the opening of many festival starting ceremonies. He took a deep breath and bravely said, “Greetings Lumberer.”

The Lumberer stopped and looked around. Then continued leaning over a steaming pan.

“GREETINGS LUMBERER!” Roland bellowed.

Again the terrifying thing turned and looked. But didn’t notice the Advisor.

This time Roland yelled but added waving arms to his request for the giant’s attention. And stepped back in smart nervousness as the thing seemed to zoom over. “What in the world?” the Lumberer gasped softly.

“I am Roland. I represent a Kingdom of Fae-Rae that lives near your home. I would like to request a deal. A kindness from you for a gift from us.” Roland explained.

Lavender was again taken with the kind features on the scary giant. He didn’t look down at Roland with contempt or ridicule. No, he looked intrigued. “What were you thinking I can help you with?” he asked softly. Seemingly aware his size would make his voice a weapon to the small man.

“We live off the land. We would request you leave where we live wild so we can harvest the berries and seeds that grow there. And we will give you gifts that will intrigue your personal interests. We also can let you know how and where to find other gifts in trade for other considerations.” Roland offers.

“What type of gifts?” the Lumberer asks.

Roland snapped his fingers and made a waving action. Lavender’s hands are unbound and her cloak is pulled off her body. Two guards began dragging towards the view of the giant. She struggles but the smooth fabric slipper she was made to wear found no grip. She looks up and that beast’s eyes go wide. It’s not hunger, but there is a want in his deep brown eyes.

A massive hand coils around her as the guards panic away. Lavender feels its powerful muscles press the digits around her. She isn’t crushed, more cradled in his grip. All she can see is his curious face examining her. She can feel his skin warming around her. “Beautiful, like a perfect little Asian beauty.” he praises. It is strangely comforting for Lavender.
“We have more for you if you agree to our terms. And If you like I can help you find other varieties.” Roland pushes his offer again.

“You know I’m sure we can come to an understanding Mister?” The giant says still studying Lavender’s barely covered form.

“Roland, Soon King of Eastyard. Yours?” Roland said.

“Bruce Walker, and if I missed my guess. Likely the reason you’re the new king?” The Lumberer guessed.

“Well, if we can come to agreements.” Roland confirmed.

“I have just finished making supper. I have more than enough to share with you and your guards. We should discuss more over food?” Bruce suggested.

“I would be honored.” Roland accepted.

Lavender was relieved she wasn’t on the menu. No, his giant finger tracing along her leg told he wanted her very alive.