The Forests of Balor had been infamous all over Albion to play host to many different species of animals, mostly dangerous and deadly. It was exactly the reason why at high noon, the second prince of Mercia was trolling the forests with his small hunting party of five. Ever the eternal hunter, Oliver had heard many interesting things about the Forests of Balor, and despite the protests of his father, Lord Bayard, King of Mercia, and his mother, Lady Adelaide, the stubborn prince still continued to go with his plans. He had traveled all the way south from Mercia, beyond Camelot, and to this famed mystical jungle, ultimately to find himself a cockatrice. Or maybe something similar. Yes, the prince liked living on the edge.
“What exactly does a cockatrice look like, Sire?”
“Beats me. It could be as small as a beetle or as big as a dragon,” replied Oliver as they trudged through some thick undergrowth on the way to their destination. “So best be watching what you’re stepping on, my friend.” This earned a great deal of laughter from the rest of his men. They knew the prince was joking. They couldn’t have traveled all the way south just to hunt a beetle, now did they?
“Cockatrice, cockroach…they do sound like cousins,” came a voice from behind the small pack.
Another laughter, and Oliver shook his head at the crazy antics of his friends. This was what he liked about hunting. Apart from the hunt itself, he liked the company he kept, the camaraderie. One knight had accompanied him to this excursion on the pleas of his mother. The other two were friends back in Mercia, commoners both. One was the son of the palace blacksmith. He knew his bows and arrows very well. And the other was the son of the village baker, and he willingly took care of the provisions for their trip. And then of course, there was his able and loyal servant Lot. Oliver didn’t like having a huge entourage about him when hunting. It removes the thrill of the chase as well as the lure of danger.
* * *
She had been told not to go here. Thrice. First by friendly farmers’ wife who had been so gracious as to give her a piece of bread and strong smelling cheese, along with even a cup of this beverage they called Cider, made from apples. ‘Not the Forest of Balor, child, nasty things live in there!’ ‘You might regret that shortcut’ another peasant she had met on the road had warned her. And finally, a charburner living just at the edge of the forest had urged her to turn around if she was fond of her life and limbs. ‘These cockatrices love to havy anything moving for meal, but I have heard they especially like to devour pretty young girls’. The way he had beared his ugly teeth at this comment, black stubs like the charcoal he was producing, had made her hurry on as fast as she could. She didn’t like to be in the company of sleazy smiles… that revived too many nasty memories…
But in the end, her reasons for crossing through the feared Forest of Balor had been simple: it was she shortest way to Camelot. And with the slow tempo she only could rely on on her two feet, she better risked a little danger to reach her destiny sooner. Then again, with her luck, she probably would run into three of these rare cockatrices and not just one. The charburner had described them as giant saurian, and that it might look slow but was in fact really fast. She needed to watch her back at any given time, as they liked to sneak up on their prey…
Yassia, even though her feet were burning already, kept on a fairly fast pace, more jogging than actually walking. Maybe her speed could help her to slip through the beast’s attention? And the sooner she got to Camelot, the better anyway. Having covered the road for a few weeks now, at least she had acquired a reasonable fitness, so even though she was pushing her body to the limits, Yassia knew she could be going like this for a while, until her muscles and especially her side started to protest.
All the while her ears were alert to every sound. She waited for grunts and other sounds that could give an animal such as a cockatrice away, but she definitely had NOT expected to hear… laughter. It made Yassia stop in her tracks momentarily, and cock her head to deem its source. It was not even far away, a little to her right. Human voices… how peculiar! Hadn’t they all said that no one in his own mind roamed the Forest of Balor?
In any way, Yassia had no mind for company right now and so she journeyed on, even faster than before, moving swiftly, but sadly not so very noiselessly through the woods. She was no hunter after all and her kingdom consisted of more plains than anything…
She just hoped that she would go unnoticed by these men, whoever they were.
