The Setting Sun

The day began bright and early in the village of Hubleton. Dozens of small thatched houses clustered around the largest building, a two story, shingle roofed inn. It was called the Leaning Oak and, as it's name suggested, several walls did appear to be leaning under the strain of holding up the roof. The inn had been there as long as anyone could remember and the village green, right in front of it, had been the host to many parties and festivals in the past. Not now however. The day began very early. Young Natel jo'Revoh stumped out the door. Another hard day of work. Another day hoping the King's men didn't show up. Every year the King sent soldiers to gather all the young men age 17 and older for training in the army. They were gone for a year and would return hardened and transformed into deadly killers. That or they returned broken and beaten. Some never did return. It was rumored that the training was rigorous and extremely challenging.

Natel began harvesting his first field. Hubleton was pitifully poor. Every year A certain amount of the harvest was required to be supplied to the King and he sent Quartermasters to pick up the grain at every town. Of late, because of an on going war with the neighboring Siltian's the tax was incredulous. 60 percent of the grain had to be given to the King, may he reign "forever". Now in order to make it through the winter with enough to start the harvest next year they had had to work even harder on less food. The soldiers always came with the quartermaster. He had to keep away from them some how. Natel rythmically cut sheaf after sheaf of barley as he thought all his options through. He could run away and hide in the woods. He could live a life traveling and fleeing but what would his mother do? That was a problem. She couldn't make it without him. His father had been dead some 11 years now and he could still recall his father's face. Ephrim jo'Revoh had been a tough strong farmer. He had been officially retired from the army but had been recalled to protect his country. He returned from the war in very bad condition with a bad leg and serious internal injuries. The village healer had said that nothing could save him short of a miracle. That miracle had never shown up. There was a chance that he could return home after the initial training and help her with the general upkeep of the farm.

The sun rose higher and higher, passed it's peak and continued down. Natel worked his way along with only a pause at midday to eat a couple apples and get a good replenishing drink from the small spring that cut past the town. As the sun neared the horizon a young boy came racing past shouting as he ran, "The quartermaster is here! The quartermaster is here!"

Natel paled at this news and turned to gaze up the rode. The village was surrounded by trees clumped in dense groves all over the place. Sure enough, the quartermaster, along with a dozen armored soldiers on horseback traveled at a good pace toward him down the road. Natel felt as though his whole world may be setting with that sun. Now he would most definitely have to go with the soldiers. He had nowhere to run or hide and no warning until they were upon him. He would have to leave his quiet little home and learn to defend himself and his country so the King could continue to tax his home. Life just wasn't fair.