Roots - Chapter Five

Chapter Five: We Gather

Muren sat in wait near the fire, rubbing his hands together for warmth despite the heat of the summer night. His hair was matted and dirty and his clothes stained and torn. He had spent hours in the woods searching for any sign of Aldon or his kidnappers but to no avail. Garenford had told him to wait for the news until everyone had gathered from Town to hear him, which unfortunately for Muren, would be hours before the people were done burying the dead and treating the wounded. Muren had reluctantly agreed and now found himself a nerve-racking wreck. He hadn’t even said goodbye when Lena and Alana left without as much as calling Aldon’s name.
Muren stared off absentmindedly as the occasional townsperson walked through his front door, the house cleaned itself thanks to Garenford, and everyone had a place to sit as chair after chair walked through the backdoor and plopped behind them. He didn’t even notice when they would ask him questions or express their condolences. His mind was in a much darker place, which was no easy task. The room soon filled with the cries and weeping of those lost and the mourning of what would never be regained. Yet Muren, in his quiet and lonesome wake shed no tears nor saw those who did.
He had nothing left to see.
A dull echo repeated itself in Muren’s ear, growing with every repetition until it became nothing more than a constant drone. The sound became a noise which became annoying which irritated Muren rather quickly. He turned his head slightly and felt someone’s breath on his neck.
“Muren? Muren? You there, Muren?”
Muren looked up slowly at Glenn, his face smeared with grime and ash. His eyes were hard and his jaw set like he had been fighting and his arms were covered in small scratches and burns.
“Come on Muren, answer me.” He said with an obvious pleading in his voice. Muren stared back at him blindly, mouth drooping and eyes sullen. He looked into Glenn’s hazel eyes and found nothing looking back at him.
“Please Muren, for Aldon.”
Muren’s eyes darted to Glenn’s face and his face picked up.
“Aldon..”
“Yes, Aldon, we need to find him.”
“Aldon...My son.”
Glenn turned around and waved his hand, motioning to the corner. Denrir approached slowly, hesitating before Muren saw him.
“Is he..” Denrir asked, truly concerned for perhaps the first time in his life. Glenn nodded and hung his head, turning to the side. Denrir looked from his fallen friend to Glenn’s somber expression and back.
“That’s it.” Denrir heaved Muren from his chair and held him inches from his face by his collar. “Muren Lowfellow, you pathetic excuse for a man! Pull yourself together and help us find Aldon!”
Suddenly Muren lashed out at Denrir, his two fat fists bouncing off Denrir’s face and chest, yelling inaudibly as he did. His face shook with the force in which he hollered and soon turned purple with the strain. Denrir dropped him against the wall and gripped Muren’s wrists in his iron grip, pressing Muren’s arms against his chest.
A deep shadow passed over Denrir and Muren’s struggling form then, a sudden silence grew throughout the house. Denrir turned to see Garenford standing before him, eyes ablaze and staff in hand. His face was furious and his thick eyebrows bushed together at the center in a furious scowl. His lips curved downward and hung unsatisfied as his stature seemed to grow before their very eyes.
He reached down and grasped Denrir’s shoulder with a long hand.
“Go with Glenn, to the outskirts of Town and bring many supplies; you shant return for a while. Now go!” He commanded. Denrir stood and followed Glenn outside, ignoring the various whispers and rumors already circulating.
Once they were gone Garenford turned his attention to Muren, who was still cowering on the floor, arms wrapped around himself and shivering like an ice behemoth had breathed on him. The tall figure bent over and gripped Muren’s palms with a cool touch, his eyes set on Muren’s, face serene and aura calm. Muren looked up at him and gulped before standing.
“Muren my friend, why have you done this?”
Muren paused for a long while before replying.
“I am in shock I suppose.”
“And that is reason enough?”
“Yes.” He decided finally, weighing his options in his head. Muren stood defiantly then and attempted to bow up to Garenford who stood over two heads taller than he. His round chest puffed up and his cheeks filled with air as he spread his arms wide and set at his sides. All in all he looked like a rather fat owl, but Garenford simply stood silent, watching Muren who eyed every movement Garenford made. He flinched and yelped as Garenford reached deep into his pocket only to remove his pipe and light it. Muren looked about embarrassedly and sniffed a small chuckle.
Muren sat with his hands in his pockets and wished he could disappear or turn invisible as he felt the stare of everyone’s eyes on his face. This was only worsened as he felt his ears go red and his face blush with the warm heat of his blood spread beneath his skin. He trembled in his seat and picked at his fingernails with his thumbs and sat kicking his feet slowly to and fro inches above the floor. Garenford shook his head in amusement and turned to face the crowd.
“I have gathered you all here tonight in the hopes we could ban together. But as you have all witnessed this is no easy task. Therefore, I move that we elect officials to the town mayoral system and create task forces to rebuild our beloved home in sects.” The room fell from its buzzing to silence as Garenford raised a hand. Muren sat in amazed silence as his friend’s natural ability to speak to masses of people. Garenford continued. “It has also come to my attention and I am sure all of yours as well, that the bandits who attacked Town were from nowhere near here. But we cannot hope to stop a king, and must instead create a shelter from the wake of the new storm. We should build a wall around the entirety of Town and its outlying lands for farms such as this one. Do we have an agreement?”
The townspeople began an uproar of agreements and disagreements and counterpoints which Garenford easily dispatched of with clever use of dialect and superior mind. A short half hour later, the argument and discussion was over, and the plans for a wall and sectional repair completed. Garenford smiled down at Muren who felt quite foolish by now and cast an apologetic look at anyone who looked his way.
Muren sat quiet as the crowds dispersed and departed his home an excited babbling of voices that grew quieter and quieter as they went up the road. Muren stood and sighed, emptying his lungs, and stretched. Garenford stepped in through the door an hour later and sat at the table across Muren who was buttering bread with a shaky hand.
“I suppose you would like to know of my information for you.”
Muren dropped the knife and scrambled to pick it back up.
“Y.. yes. I would.” He spluttered as he set his roll aside, face suddenly pleading and in agony. His face waned and grew strained like his skin had shrunk too small for his skull.
“As you wish,” He paused before continuing. “Aldon was here before the bandits ever arrived near here, so he was not picked out on purpose. Yet he was nothing to ignore either as he was the only one here with such an establishment about. However, as I cast my enchantments to clean your home, I noticed the only items missing were of Aldon’s, nothing more.”
Muren sat straight up and his eyes narrowed.
“What are you suggesting, Garenford Deedrunner?”
“Only that perhaps he was not indeed taken at all, that he may have left of his own accord.” He said simply, crossing his hands on the table with his fingers entwined. He seemed to age by the second thought Muren as he stared long and hard at him, attempting to reason with himself.
“Are you saying he joined the bandits or ran away?”
“I,” Garenford began, “Am saying nothing but what could have happened and what shall never be known if we do nothing. That is why I left earlier with everyone else. Glenn and Denrir have been tasked with searching the nearby valleys and towns for Aldon. They know him best and are still young, giving us the best chance of finding him.”
“I don’t want to leave it to those idiots! I want to help, to contribute to finding my son!” Muren exclaimed, appalled at the thought.
“And you will, by acting as the leader you have been voted to be.”
Muren’s jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide.
“What?” He breathed.
“You have been voted leader of the sect here. You shall manage repairs from here to the most western corner of Town and supervise the manufacture of the wall. Do you understand how much rides on your shoulders for everyone?”
Muren nodded solemnly and gritted his teeth, aching with determination.
“I shall not fail them again.”