Chapter Four On the Way
Dillon rose out of bed, splashed cold water on his face from the basin in the kitchen. It was still dark outside, but he had been used to getting up early. Usually his uncle would already be gone tracking an animal and may not come back until late in the evening. Today his uncle was moving about in the house gathering items. Dillon was going to miss the home he grew up in. The warm hearth, it had been built by his grandfather and inherited by his aunt. You could see the love in it. It was made from some of the strongest oaks cut from the nearby forest. The wood never rotted and it smelt like a new growth of trees. It was said that a spell was placed on the home to preserve it from age. There were only three rooms and when his brother was around they had to share one. While his Uncle occupied one the other was kept free for his own son. Ever since the death of his aunt. His Uncle’s son rarely came over. There was some disagreement that caused a separation from each other. He didn’t know what it was and he would not ask. It was none of his business.
After putting on a tunic and pants he gathered his bow and pole and set it near the door.
His Uncle chuckled and placed a a couple of bowls of porridge with chunks of venison on the table. “Your not going to need those. Everything will be provided for you.”
Dillon's cheeks went red. He knew that he would not need a bow or pole when in the city. It was just his normal routine to be prepared for any opportunity to hunt for his food. He didn’t like the idea that he would not be contributing to his meal. Like his uncle he enjoyed being able to live off the land. It saved money for clothing and other needs. He even knew what mushrooms to pick, where to find edible roots and wild vegetables. His brother who had closer interactions with their father had taught him how to make salves for wounds and use simple herbs to help ease a persons pain, reduce a fever and settle an upset stomach. It would be difficult to have his meals prepared for him. He wondered how he would get out of joining the priesthood. He didn’t want to upset his uncle or cause him to be shamed by the elders, but no one came to ask him what he wanted.
Putting a fork of porridge into his mouth stopped him from being glum. His uncle though a god hunter was much better at cooking. A simple meal of boiled rolled oats complimented by chunks of deer meat flooded the sensitivities of his tongue. He finished it quickly and his uncle gave him another bowl.
“Thought you’d want seconds. I don’t know what you’ll be getting in the city, but I wanted you to have your fill of my cooking before you left. Even if it is something plain.”
Dillon shook his head. “It’s wonderful. I’ll miss it.”
His uncle wiped his eye “I’m glad to hear that. Write to me if the allow it. Let me know how your doing.”
Dillon nodded. “I will.”
“Now, now, lets get you out of here. Everish will be waiting for you in the town just outside of the hamlet. “He already has my furs so need to wait for me.”
His uncle handed him a bag. “Take this, it’s a bit of dried fish and cheese for you to snack on if you get peckish.”
“Thank you.”
“Now out the door before you see a grown man cry.”
His uncle hurried him out, Dillon was sure that he had seen a couple of tears forming in his uncles eyes. He didn’t get much of a chance to see, the door shut closing off part of his past.
The house was just outside of the hamlet, his grandfather purposely built it outside of the hamlet. He and his grandmother were healers when they were alive and they would use some harsh smelling ingredients that could foul up an area so quickly that a passerby may feint or vomit if they were caught in its vapors. It also worked well for his uncle, when he tanned some skins it would also produce an odorous smell.
