SoulBind (Part 1)
Treetops like spires surrounded Rudolph’s small cottage. Built from stone and rough-hewn timber it was a lonely but sturdy home. It was planted in its location as strongly as the trees around it.
Rudolph was a hermit of sorts and a landowner, which in Eastern Europe made him a wealthy man. No roads, trade routs, or rivers wound through his hills. His lands were far removed just as he wanted them.
Except for his poor health, Rudolph lived exactly as he chose. He didn’t farm or bother with the little lords or dukes located on every border. Rudolph lived modestly on timber sales from his hilly, heavily forested lands.
Visitors were turned away except for Erwin. The young man was a woodworker’s son from the nearby village of Hildagriff. The boy was nine years old and was allowed to journey over the hills to visit Rudolph.
They would walk the woods or spend the entire day playing chess.
Erwin was learning much of the woodworker’s trade from his father. He had carved both of Rudolph’s chess sets and other small items around the collage.
The young man would listen as Rudolph described distant places the trade routs led, boats on the great seas, and the magic beings that inhabit the woods.
“Their names are Rudavich and Slobadon. They are gardeners but not the simple type we know. They grow plants that are not found anywhere else in the world. But they despise each other and are very distrustful of anyone else.”
“Why do allow them on your land?”
Rudolph laughed. “Rudavich and Slobadon were both here long before I was. They don’t bother me and I never disturb them. Oddly enough, they do a better job protecting my lands then I do. The wolves that wander these woods are theirs.”
Erwin moved his bishop. “Then why do they fight?”
“They don’t fight exactly. In fact, they are both caretakers of the same hidden garden.” Rudolph studied the board as he spoke. “The garden is an inheritance they received from their father almost two hundred years ago.
Problems arose when Rudavich and Slobadon began arguing about which plants belonged to whom. They work the same garden but have been at each other’s throats all this time.
You see, the garden grows plants and small trees from seeds saved from Creation’s first garden. Almost all the plants contain some spark of magic. Now you are the only other person to know about the garden’s existence.”
“Now I know you’re lying. You talk like they are hundreds of years old!”
Rudolph sat up as if offended. “They are! Did I not say the garden grows magic? They eat from it and stay healthy. If only they would share with me. Then I wouldn’t be looking at death as closely as I do now.”
Erwin made another move, one that would win the game. Rudolph wasn’t trying. “The land is yours. Why don’t you demand this magic fruit as rent?”
“Never, boy. I fear their wrath as I fear my coming death.”
Erwin was interested in hearing more about the location of the garden but Rudolph swore he’d never been there. “The wolves would turn me aside whenever I came too close.”
The boy left shortly after their game. Rudolph’s poor health meant he needed a great deal of rest to have enough strength for his chores each day.
Several days later, Erwin returned to the cottage. The door was still bolted shut and a foul odor eased from the windows. Erwin called and received no response. Finally, the boy smashed through a set of shutters. He found Rudolph dead in his bed.
Erwin ran back to Hildagriff bringing back his father and several other men. He cried as he ran. He was sorry that death had finally claimed the old man and that Rudolph had to wait days before anyone discovered him.
When Erwin and the village men arrived, Erwin’s father immediately sent the boy into the woods. “We will call you to return once the grave is finished. You will be allowed to say goodbye.”
The woods seemed especially quiet as Erwin walked through them. He kept to paths he and Rudolph had walked together. The tears slowed but they did not cease.
“So, Rudolph the mighty has finally died.” A voice like gravel startled Erwin. He jumped as he found the speaker. It was a man who appeared mature but not old. He was tall in a long, gray robe. His beard was cut short.
“You know, your friend was once a mighty warrior. It’s how he won these lands many years ago.”
“Sir, who are you?”
“My name is Rudavich and I too grieve over the loss of our mutual friend.” He paused as he reached into his robe and pulled out a dark green stone the size of a walnut. “Shall we retrieve his spirit?”
Erwin wiped the last tears away. “Sir, he is dead almost four days. My father and others dig a grave for him now. No cure will help.”
Rudavich smiled. “You are correct. His former body is worth little now but if you place this seed in the corpse’s hand, a tree will grow that will house his spirit. After twenty years, the tree will have grown enough to cut down. The heartwood inside will contain Rudolph’s essence. At that time, he may find a way to communicate with you.”
Erwin took the glossy green-black seed from Rudavich’s outstretched hand. It had an oily feel. “Sir, I must confess that I do not believe you. I do this only because Rudolph believed in your magic.”
“Very well.” Rudavich leaned forward. “One other thing boy, the soulbind tree you are about to plant will begin bearing fruit after its third year. After the first frost, you must come here and pick up all the seeds and burn them. The ground Rudolph’s house is built on is saturated with blood of the wretches he slew. Do not let another soulbind draw upon the souls of evil men.”
June 20th, 2008 at 12:55 am
wow.. this is intriguing… going on to read more
June 20th, 2008 at 12:58 am
i like where this is going.