which protected the camp from the harsh winds,
brought there by the mountains beyond the forest.
Battling through the carnage of the excited and
heated children, King Brenin made his way towards
the warden’s hut. Madoc quickly made his way
towards him. The steps had been carpeted with a red
silk carpet to mark the occasion.
Greeting him with his arm extended across his
chest, Madoc called to him, “A great pleasure to have
you here, Sire.”
Placing his arm across his chest, Brenin attempted
to greet Madoc, “Yes…yes…” he rushed his words as
he struggled through the sea of children. “Could you
call them off?”
Madoc called with a commanding voice, “Away
with you!” The children soon retreated, but in the true
nature of children they did not go far, peeping from
the side of the bunkhouses they all tried to get a
glimpse of Brenin. The towering horses pulling his
carriage were surrounded by small hands.
“You must be, Madoc?” asked Brenin as the two
met at the end of the path.
Madoc gave a quick bow of his head. “Yes, Sire,”
he replied, “please…follow me,” he offered as he held
his arm out, inviting Brenin into his hut.
The usual dust which covered the place had been
cleaned away. His books now neatly lined the shelves,
the dull hut had been treated to a cleaning. His desk
was void of papers, a small inkpot and quill, a single
half burnt out candle in its stand and a small stand
with his sealer was all that was there, his desk looked
empty.
Brenin stood by the crude window, the rickety
wooden surround had seen better days. Looking out
towards the old forest, Brenin glared into the vast
shadows beyond, the specks of light through the trees
seemed to be veiled by the haunting darkness.
Standing by the door, Madoc was weary, his heart
was erratic. He had never met someone of such
prowess. Upon discovering Brenin was planning to
visit, Madoc had constantly wondered, ‘Why?’
Brenin held a look of strange wonder. “It’s an odd
day out there,” said Brenin, he gave a sigh as he
turned, “the rain is holding off, but snow appears to be
approaching. In a camp like this, it cannot be easy to
keep them all warm?”
Stepping forward, Madoc’s nerves seemed to twist
his stomach. His body was jerky as he came towards
Brenin. “We have plenty of linen houses,” he said
with an uncomfortable laughter in his voice, “the north
is cold, unwelcoming in winter, but we have enough to
see us through.”
Brenin turned, he placed his hands behind his
back. “You wouldn’t want more?”
Madoc raised his brows. “No, Sire,” he softly
replied. He joined Brenin by the window, they both
looked to the darkness in the unsettling forest. “It isn’t
blankets we need, it isn’t heat, food, or warmth.”
Brenin faced Madoc, he would always listen to those
who knew their duty. “It’s compassion, Sire.” His
grief-stricken voice spoke more than his words. He
had seen a lifetime of trepidation on the faces of the
lost children coming into the camp. The forgotten,
were the unseen children, torn by the greed of the
Atlanti. “Understanding, someone who would simply
show the children that they care, they are not
forgotten.”
Brenin understood, he could see that the camps
were well cared for, he could also see that they needed
repairs. “Then that is why I’m here,” affirmed Brenin.
His tone was powerful, he did not have the same
compassion as Madoc, he did not have to live in a
world where children were second to everything. “I
do, however, need to discuss a new plan, the camps
need to be extended…”
“How?” jumped Madoc, who was already
overworked, “the camps cannot take any more,” his
worry showed on his tired face.
“Then they’ll have to,” barked Brenin, “children
you need to be ready.” He began to calm. Turning
back to the window he placed his hands on the sill.
“You will be paid for extra staff, the masons arrive on
the next turn, we will be building a hundred new
bunkhouses, the mills remain for the smaller children,
the smiths will also remain, but a new addition, we will
be adding lessons, we need thinkers in this world.”
Brenin seemed proud of his suggestion. “A rotation
will need to be added, as a training yard will also be
built,” turning to face Madoc, Brenin raised his brows,
“I do not intend to blacken these children’s souls
further.” Brenin would use any attempt to defend his
plan, it was disturbing to see the camps of war
becoming training grounds, for the next generation of
fighters. “This world is changing, the wars are
worsening, and we need fighters, the council have
proposed a mandatory service, I would feel better
knowing that the children here have a chance at
vengeance, I would never forgive myself if they were
not prepared for such an undertaking.”
Thinking Madoc would be appalled by his plan,
Brenin stood shocked as Madoc nodded. “I think that
might just work,” he agreed. A smile grew as he
looked from the window. “The camps need a focus,
these children have had their world ripped apart,
vengeance is often spoken of,” his voice was soft and
mournful, “these children could be the future the
world needs.”
Watching from the window, Brenin squinted
towards the forest. “There’s a child in the woods,” it
should not have been unusual however, it was odd to
see a young child wandering alone so far away from
the camp.
Looking through the window, Madoc knew exactly
who he had seen. With a high tone he replied, “She’s
fine, Sire, she’s a strange child,” he stood back and
advised Brenin, “it would be best you avoid that one,
she’s an odd child, and could be seen as dangerous.”
A wide smile began to grow on Brenin’s face as he
turned. “Danger invites me.” A menacing look
appeared on Brenin’s face. “In what way is she
dangerous?”
Madoc looked back through the window. “I
assume your visit isn’t just to deliver news of new
camps.” He turned back to face Brenin; his arms were
behind his back. “Who told you?”
Brenin raised his brows, he relaxed his eyes, he
had been found out. “Dune, one of the new staff here,
he has been keeping an eye on the camps for me.” His
eyes spoke of a much deeper concern, “at first it was
for the concern of the children, a letter received a
while ago from Bourellis, it spoke of a boy, beaten half
to death.” His eyes drifted towards the child in th
e
forest, the tiny figure was barely visible through the
thick brush in the hedge line. “His interest was caught
in the Unknown Girl, he explained seeing certain traits
from her, certain oddities.”
“Odd is one way of putting it, she is under my care
now.” His deep voice spoke of fatherly protection,
“the boy you speak of, was punished accordingly –”
“By beating him half to death?” snapped Brenin.
“Yes!” Madoc sharply replied, “the boy deserved
more!” he loudly said, defending his own actions.
“The girl you see in that forest,” he pointed to the
forest; his eyes filled with anger, “he was doing things
to her that do not bear mentioning.” His painfilled
voice needed no explanation to Brenin. “He got what
he deserved, before that we knew the child was
different, we didn’t realise just how different she was.”
He lowered his arm, walking back towards his desk he
turned to the back. A tall shelf at the back of his desk
held several different books. He took one of the soft
green leather-bound books and handed it to Brenin.
Brenin took the book, his eyes searched the first
few pages. “What is this?”
Madoc stepped towards the window. “Every
incident from the Unknown Girl, from the day she
arrived at these camps.” He glared from the window.
The unsettled weather outside chilled him as he
looked out towards the forest. Brenin was right, it was
looking to be an unsettled winter ahead.
Brenin looked to the book, something was
missing. “What’s her name?” Something about the
child seemed endearing, he seemed to instantly grow a
strange curiosity.
Madoc raised his brow. “The Unknown Girl, she’s
not been given her name yet, she refuses to be given
one, or to choose one, as I say, she’s a strange child.”
Stepping from the hut, Brenin made his way
towards the old forest. The grass was damp under his
boots, a cold mist seemed to cling in the air, making
his clothes feel damp.
Trampling through the long grass that the sheep in
the far field had not yet gotten to, Brenin struggled
through. The odd few flickering glimpses of the girl
appeared from inside the mysterious forest.
He felt a captivating invite from the towering
redwoods and spikey conifers. Each step he took
seemed to rattle with the sound of an army behind
him, he knew he was often followed by his guards, it
irritated him to his core. As he came towards the tree
line, he suddenly turned.
“She’s a child!” he shouted. Four guards had
followed him from the hut. The King’s Guard always
found it difficult working with a king who sort
adventure. It was their duty to protect him. His need
to be alone often found them being turned away by
him.
“I am sure I will be fine; I don’t need sitters!” he
spat. The men soon stopped and allowed him to go
alone.
The Unknown Girl heard the shouting, she turned
to see him walking towards her. A curiosity forced her
to the treeline. She watched as the strange tall man
approached.
“Are you the king?” she called from inside the
forest which seemed to engulf the echoes from her
voice.
Brenin bent under the twisted branches to the
forest and made his way towards her. A moment of
utter delight hit him, she was such a tiny child, a pretty
face with slim features, a warmth of innocence seemed
to radiate from her. Her hair was past her shoulders,
the twisted locks of dark hair showed it was clear she
had made some effort with her appearance, given that
she had so little, she still tried a lot.
He replied with a wonderous tone, “I am.” He
battled through the brush and low-lying branches and
finally reached the darkness of the forest.
The Unknown Girl smiled; her eyes smiled with
her. “That’s nice,” she replied. It was not the response
he was expecting at all. “Are you coming to meet
Mother?”
A strange moment hit Brenin, a feeling of
overwhelming potential, her face filled with such
beauty and sadness, a voice of innocent perfection,
Brenin stopped, a state of utter confusion took him as
he looked to her.
“Who is Mother?”
“She’s the pooka, she’s here somewhere,” she
replied, she looked around the wood, nothing was
there. “I think she’s gone now, but she’ll be back
tomorrow.”
Each word she spoke seemed to pull him further
in. “Then I can meet her tomorrow,” said Brenin, he
was not at all interested in meeting the pooka. “But for
now, what’s your name?” he narrowed his eyes to the
child, hoping she would provide him some answers,
he was the king, he believed his title would impress
her enough for her to reveal more about herself.
The girl was confused, she looked up towards the
king as he made his way towards her, battling through
the overgrown wood.
“I don’t have one yet, but today is a good day, I
think I’ll have one soon,” she replied.
It was a strange encounter; the Unknown Girl’s
innocence was a bright light in a world so gloomy. As
Brenin came close towards her he asked, “May I join
you for a walk?”
The Unknown Girl looked to him, she seemed
puzzled. “Of course you may, you’re the king, you can
do anything.”
Brenin gave a grumbling laugh, “Anything within
reason.”
The Unknown Girl proceeded to walk through the
forest, Brenin followed by her side. Her tiny feet
seemed to struggle through the undergrowth of the old
forest floor, the moss-covered boulders provided her
with some footing, she did not seem to favour the low
ivy that was by the side of them. Her bare feet
saddened him, but also, he was baffled that she did
not flinch at a single stone or thorn near her feet.
Suddenly the girl stopped and turned towards him.
“Why did you come here?” she abruptly asked.
Brenin furrowed his brow, he asked in a deep
tone, “Why would you ask that?”
The Unknown Girl thought for a moment.
“Because it isn’t nice here, and kings, they always
seem to have nice things, and be in nice places,” she
replied, she was somewhat confused, offended he had
chosen to leave such a lavish lifestyle behind, “the
books in Madoc’s office tell of kingdoms, palaces,
riches and wonders, that isn’t what you’ll find here.”
Brenin raised his brow, slowly he crouched in
front of her. “Then that’s why I’m here,” his smile
grew. “Kings love nice things, so I think this place
should be a much nicer place, but I need to be here to
make that happen.”
“I know,” she quickly replied, “they told
me, that
you’re going to bring the war here.”
Brenin stood, horrified at her words. Her
innocence had melted. “Who told you that?” he tried
not to snap or shout, for fear of frightening her.
“My secrets. They told me that one day, all the
greatest warriors will be born from camps like this
one, one day, this camp will be the camp closest to
revenge.” She could see a darkness falling Brenin’s
face, a look of silent terror caught his eyes. “It’s what
the camp needs, the pool of fate has ripples, they all
start with you,” she softly said. His face remained
unchanged, she did not want to frighten her king, but
especially, she did not want to again be cast aside as a
strange child, a child not worthy of love because of her
idiosyncrasies. “They told you though, didn’t they, to
stay away from me?” she oddly asked.
Brenin’s smile dropped, he was upset that the girl
knew her odd behaviour was so noticeable.
“They told me that you can be somewhat, strange,”
he whispered with a tone of wonder, “but those are my
favourite kinds of people.” His eyes met hers, the
strange pools of lilac were a colour he had never seen
before. “Tell me, where did you take lessons?”
“Lessons?” she asked with a high tone, “Mother
teaches me many things, I like to read the books that
Madoc has, but lessons, apologies, I don’t know what
they are.”
Her laughing reply worried Brenin, a girl with such
promise should never be left to the waste of a war
camp.
“Soon enough you’ll have lessons in the camp, that
way, you can learn all the world has to offer.” His
promise was empty, he knew that the lessons he spoke
of would teach of tactical battles. Lessons of plants and
trees by ways of medicines were in his plan, but they
were simply to ease the burden of war wounds.
Their walk through the misty forest continued.
They kept close to the tree line. As they came towards
a dense part of the forest, they were forced to move
inward. The air was thickening with the smell of frosty
pine. The Unknown Girl knew they had ventured far.
The kings silence seemed to bother her. She knew she
was strange, but she only wanted to be liked.
“Do you have children?” she asked, attempting to
make some conversation.