Guest Blogger – memories from the river’s edge

I was very excited to meet a new friend…and he has found a very interesting place in my life tight now. I would like to welcome him and his wonderful writing style. Someday we may meet and get to work things in the world of writing together. I have a feeling it would be a very connecting and insanely funny adventure we could take readers on. But for the time being I want you to enjoy a little play time that he had with my favorite characters. So from our guest blogger…I give you the writing style of Crazy-Driver: memories from the river’s edge.

As Hunter sat at the local tavern sipping a pint of his favorite brew, he visits her in his mind.  After days of a becoming ritual of meeting Sonya at the river he finds himself becoming quite fond of her.  They have shared stories of past days, current living, and dreams of things yet to be.  He enjoyed her company.  Pulling a swig from his ale the scent of his memories keep him entwined.  The fresh greens along the river as the water flows abroad.  Wild flowers and dandelions growing in abundance.  Tall oaks and full pines strung throughout the forest providing just enough privacy.  Then her, fresh and beautiful, always full of life and laughter. Even apart he can picture her perfectly. Her hair tucked into her hat, breathtaking blue eyes, and a heart warming smile that any man would be insane not to give into. In a room full of strangers, all he sees is her, tho she’s not even there.  He finishes his drink and sets down the glass.  As he reaches into his pocket for money to settle his tab, he pulls out a parchment unknown to him. Scribed clearly and elegantly on it, it say “Just know you’re in my thoughts”.  He smiles as he pays the bar keep and a warmth flows through him.  He replaces his hat, and turns for the door…..

The start

Coal could feel the sweat trickling down his back as he crept ever so quietly down the corridor toward the vestibule. Nothing about tonight’s events had seemed right to him, but to say anything to the priest would not help at all. This was, after all, his first official detail out side the temple walls. He had the highest honor given to anyone in his profession, and to act like a child now would possibly cost more than his career.

 

Like any other orphan in the Western Provinces, the church had raised Coal.  Most of the boys would eventually be adopted, the remainder usually ended up as priests themselves. But Coal had been a different child, never a bad child, but always a little farther off than the other children his age. Brother Erickson, as he had been known then, had changed all that for him thought. Seeing a special need arising, Coal had been trained with the Kings soldiers’ in his teens. After proving adapt in this field the church had furthered his training as an assassin. It had been a quiet dark path and a secret one as well, but his constant desire to please Brother Erickson had brought out a new man.

 

Now, this boy who had so desperately wanted nothing in return but to see the pleasure in his mentors face, was the last hope of protection for him. Coal had been with Brother Erickson, or now to all the Western Provinces only know as the Ether Priest, since his first installment out of the orphanage. They had become quite close, and the other priests didn’t prefer their leader to be so closely connected to him. They had become the dark and light of the church, the yin to the other’s yang. 

 

Coal had known that the king would station men outside the church while the two men met inside the chapel to converse secretly. But the problem was that he trusted none of them. He had to find a way to get in the chapel, had to find out what was behind this secret meeting and had to above all else be there when his friend needed him, and need him he would. 

Forged friendships

Coal had enjoyed the detour that this excursion had taken, he had never spent this much time with royals and was beginning to really like their company. The twins, who he had dealt with on prior operations had previously just annoyed him with there presence, but now he found like Hunter and Andrew, that they were just as scared of what tomorrow could bring to there homes as well as every other soldier that was serving king and country for this God forsaken war. This mission, to restock supplies, was normally something that he would have fought anything to get out of . But the friendships being forged with these boys were something that Coal knew would last forever.

“Just you wait till you see her eyes,” Karson was saying to the others, “She’s a real beauty, I think.”

“You think…” Andrew laughed, “don’t you remember?”

“I just was so taken with her eyes, that I really somehow forgot the rest, but I know she’s beautiful.”

“This gal could be built like a bull moose and Karson wouldn’t remember, all a girl has to do is blink her pretty little eyelashes and he’s in looovvveee.” Mason chides.

Something about watching them interact with each other and Coal somehow knew that these men would be the key to unlocking the turmoil that plagued the nations currently. The prophesy of the nations uniting for the greater good was somehow wrapped up in them.

The bite of winter

Kolton had served his king for as long as he could remember, the days of his youth were scattered with memories of loyalty. But what had that loyalty brought him, what had it brought his men now starving and hid away from the families and countryside they had swore to defend. That is if they had any family left at this point. This war had been going on since some of the men in this camp were nursing on their mothers tit. Kolton was past the point of giving up, but what would be left for him if he returned to his home?

Kolton opened the flap of his tent to glimpse at the camp, but the idea vanished as quickly as it had come. The cold struck right to the core, the snowy ice crystals cut deep against the exposed flesh on the mans face and hands and the wind made any attempt of shielding your eyes near impossible, the swirling vortex it caused here in the camp came at you from any and every direction. Kolton longed for the heavy eerie fog that had preceded this storm. He had planned to move the camp once this storm passed but now he didn’t know if they would even make it through. Supplies were short a week ago and he knew that starving the men down in this weather was not going to go over well.

The Rivers Edge

The young girl stood with her back to the bank of the river, waist deep in the brisk mountain water. Her undergarments, wet, clung to every curve of her slender youthful body. As she turned to the bank the flesh of her nipples, erect with the chill, was slightly visible threw her bodice. After wringing her wet hair, she retuned to the task at hand. She had come to the river to do her washing.

She was very aware of the presence of someone else but did nothing to show for it. More likely than not, the wildlife would let her know if the human making way to the rivers edge would be a friend or foe. Few new of the secluded bank and most of them that new would be making there way to carry on with business of the same. Sonya had become quite accustom to the others from the ranch bathing around her. Days were busy with other chores that when given the chance to have a bit of free time to do things like bath, you seldom could do it all alone.

Hunter stood motionless under the towering cottonwood trees, savoring the moment as long as possible. While he knew this woman would someday share his bed, he willed the picture to be burned to his memory. Sonya was even more beautiful in the whispers of sunlight dancing threw the trees, the birds and sounds of the river almost a hymn to the indescribable fantasy before his eyes.

“If your waiting for a private moment, you have missed your opportunity tonight,” Sonya called out to the open air. “I have enough washing to continue till dawn.”

“Only if you think you won’t get to cold, but I really don’t mind waiting.” Hunter responded, not sure of the reaction he would cause her.

Nonplused, Sonya continued what she was doing, unsure which of the soldiers had found her, yet not wanting to stir interests with a commotion. Hunter knew he must now make his way down the final path to the rivers edge, if he was to continue this conversation with any dignity.

the cowgirl

The evening sun was drifting away as the cowgirl was making the final push back to the homestead. She had sat her pony threw the heat of summer and was grateful the last stretch to her final destination was within sight. Her long golden hair braided back for the final task at hand, swished as she set her pony to a slow trot to push the heard to the corals.

There was a reason she had worked so hard. The young mavericks, unclaimed and free for the taking to anyone who could take ‘em. She had her eye set on a fine young bull. She had seen him threw the summer months and knew he had come from the finest stock the rancher had. Young and strong, yet a little to confident of his freedom.

The cowgirl set out, determined to see her efforts flower into her dreams. Her most trusted companion, Dog, at her heels. Together they pushed the heard to the coral, where she could cut the mavericks out from the remanded of the ranchers stock. A little effort and she had them cut and cornered. Three young bulls. She had had trouble with the smallest of the bunch and knew to watch him closely, but she was determined not to let him distract her from the ultimate goal. All she had ever wanted was a heard of her own, and this bull would prove to be the best pick from the heard. She sent the dog in first to weed out the troublemaker. Dog was sly and dodged all the kicks and horn the bull threw her way, she two had tangled with his temper before. The small bull then cut away and returned back to the heard, giving up that the cowgirl had not wanted to dance the dangerous steps with him.

She sat tight to the warmed leather of the saddle bending and moving with the sway of the pony, like they were one. The cowgirl had to pull all her best moves, cutting and distracting the other bull to fall out from the corner where he clung to his companion. The patients paid off. The lone bull succumbed to the persistent of the cowgirl and her dog. Eventually giving in to the seductive dance and letting her rope him to the fires and the eventual branding iron. He was hers.

A story of old

Evening had fallen over the men for the last time before they would return to the fray of battle. Each was lost in their own thoughts while they enjoyed the last of the fresh rations that had been given to them in Millcreek. Tomorrow would see them back to the slop that the soldiers were given, healthy and filling but not appetizing.

“Why the glum looks about tonight?” Coal asked, knowing perfectly well the answer but continuing, “we still have loads of time for me to cheat you out of your wages playing cards, who’s up for a game?”

As Coal dealt out the cards he smirks at each of the men, “Do you really think that this little expedition has amounted to nothing?” Hunter looking up from his cards replied, “I came all this way to help fight. Not just for my lands…or yours” looking towards the twins, “but for the chance to once again not feel the oppression on the land. Cameron thinks that we aren’t ready to fight the front lines and treats us like young children still suckling from our mothers tits!”

“At least you didn’t have to share your mothers tits.” chuckled Mason. “Not that is shows on you brother” Karson bantered back, ribbing his slightly larger twin brother with his elbow.

“And what say you Andrew, to all this child‘s play?” Coal pried. “Are you ready to abandon this brood of princes and return to war?” Andrew just shook his head and gave a half hearted grin to his cousin. “I have vowed to my King that I will look after this thick headed son of his and return him home to his mama tit in one piece”

Coal let them stew a little longer over their worries and then broke in “do you still not realize the gravity of task we return from? Have you not worked it out in your heads what we were doing in Millcreek?”

Karson pipes up, “Ya, the fresh horses we are retuning back to Cameron are a priceless commodity to the soldiers” he quotes back, but continues with the added, “that are out there actually fighting. We could have sent a few grooms from the stables to do that.”

Coal put down the hand he was playing and looked Hunter in the eye. “Do you really think that stable girl back there was just that? Didn’t you feel the connection you had with her? The words you were looking for to say to her have already been said…she was your betrothed. That man was no ordinary farmer…you may remember him as King Nickolas of Rimba, long thought dead. He has been in hiding these long years and has little contact with anyone, his lands have long been in the hands of the enemy and he is not trusting to anyone. Cameron sends troops to feel him out and this little trip, well the horses are just an added bonus to the formal steps that we must dance to regain his confidence. His aid in the war is crucial, no one will commit to anything until we have the aid of all involved. Rimba is to big a land not to have their full support in driving this madness away.”

The Morlen Estates

The crackling of the logs on the fire seemed to bring back a memory of the past. Sawyer Morlen fights to keep the memory at bay until the sounds of yesterday seem to bring it all racing to the surface. A single tear tries to escape and Sawyer turns his body to the hearth and wipes it away. Resting his arm across the mantel the man surrenders to his mind.

The memory brings to front the image of his sister and her family laughing and preparing for the Winter Solstice festivities. His wife and son merrily interacting with the others he so dearly loves. Then Sawyer leaves for the stable to find his nephew, lost again with the horses that he treasures. A scream and then another, everything is moving so fast now. The man and the boy returning to the home to find all within have been slaughtered at the hands of a man Sawyer has never seen before. A strange feeling washes over him and he finds a sword threw the savage looking man at his feet. A promise to himself to keep the boy from harm.

It was not until years later that Sawyer found out about the man he had killed in his home and the purpose to his actions that day. And the only link to his family had gone after the savages that destroyed his life.

Harrison had decided to go to the training facilities at Holbrook. The boys inquiring mind had never been quelled by the stories of his family’s death. He longed to put a stop to the man behind their deaths. Rumors and whispers abounding around the countryside had opened the young boys eyes to the world around him. Stories of an uprising against the unnerving savages from the Simian Territory, and the promise of war. Harrison wanted to be prepared this time around. Thought just a boy at the time of his family’s death he would not be caught off guard again, staying at the estate of his uncle would not be an option any longer.

Sawyer turned from the fire and paced back and forth, searching for a reason to think of anything else. He walked to the hutch and removed a glass and the bottle of wine reserved for such times. He was sorry for the words with which they had parted, but nothing could undo them now. Only time could tell the result of his anger. Harrison, he knew, would turn out to be a fine soldier.

The lonely coyote

The wind was astoundingly cold that winter morning, the bite could be felt clear to the bone. The winter had been determined to prove strong even in the last few weeks before spring. Harrison looked out across the valley that would return him to the girl that he had fallen in love with over the last few years. She was still ignorant to the feelings in his heart. Would this trip be any different from the rest. Harrison’s horse was anxious to get to the stables in Fairview, remembering back to the last trip to the castle, he knew that he could finish the journey in less than a day. Harrison on the other hand was not anticipating a warm welcome. He would be lucky to find a room in Fairview, knowing that the barracks would be full to the brim of local soldiers. A sword for hire like himself was only welcome if there was room. Harrison made the last few preparations to leave camp, burying the ashes of last nights humble fire in the snow. Harrison dreamed of the day he could lay down his sword and take his place as the lord of Sterling Castle and it’s modest estate, his uncle, Sawyer Morlen, had no one else to call family and had promised him the lands. Harrison mounted up and looked towards his destination. His horse was eager and pranced waiting for the go ahead, Harrison gave a slight squeeze to his thigh. As he slowed the young stallion back to a walk he caught a flash in the corner of his eye. A coyote slinking his way behind him, looking for any chance of a meal that Harrison may have left behind at his camp. He watched the dog shy away from the easy path that his horse had left in the snow. Unsure if there was a chance of any stragglers to the human.