His father, Baldbearh, with the broad shoulders, he carried his two strong arms with ease, holding the stallion's halter which pointed where the horse went, while the two arms also provided guard for the child that sat in the father's embrace, clamped between the two strong arms. As obvious, they went on horseback, customary to them. The boy went with a bright smile from his lips, his hair was fair and short. The boy glanced at his father as the stallion strolled the wood, their bodies bounced in rhytm of the horse's steps. "Pa, how come have you never joined the King's warband?" The boy asked with curious note and innocence. The father simply smiled without additional remark, "Well, boy. Life is many thing, one would argue they live for nothing if not for the King, but some would argue they live for nothing if they lay their life waste." Still with curious raised brows, the boy lightly shrugged himself, indicating the interest the subject began to fade his interest but his lips still muttered while his eyes faced the front. "Then why do we live at all, Pa?"
The sheer amount of wind created a loud blowing noise. They were at a small forest, dozen of trees covered their shadows but they could still see the vast meadows beyond it. A faint of water from the creek beside where the stallion strolled. "We live for life, Helm. There are men who wield a blade for honor, but what differs a blade with a pitchfork, hm? They are both tools, though they serve different purpose but at the end, they are still.. tools." Clearly the father muttered, swaying his head, following the wind while the stallion led them to a clear destination, the way forth to Kingstead. "I.. don't understand." The boy, clearly wondered by what's beyond Kingstead still remarked his father previous word. The father sighed fondly at the child, brushing his big palm over the boy's hair. "Ha hah, one day you will, Helm boy!" The peace of the land broke by the man's hearty laughter and the boy followed to his father's laughter with a small chuckle. "O pa, you mutter too much!"
The stallion stood before the road to Kingstead, the beauty of the land laid before their eyes as the sun set. His father who was the tallest felt the strong wind blowing his face and had he still blessed with his fair hair, It would've felt it too. "Come, let us return before your ma worries." His father let a soothing voice as they returned back, but as the horse walked a few steps away, a sudden heavy blow struck the boy's father. It was as if a heavy boulder fell onto his chest, the boy turned his head immediately and his face turned pale, not of beauty but of fear.
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The father's large palm holding against his chest as he bent down while still sat above the stallion. "Back to the village, Stór-óf.." His voice ended faintly like a feather, but the stallion became tense and he swiftly began galloping back to the village. The boy granted a haunting dread, the galloping noise sounded like a thunder on it's step, the sky became darker as the night fell upon them as it seemed they tarried too long in their journey. He could also feel the father's weight behind his back, but blessed by his unusual size for his age, the boy held the father's weight rather well. Unable to see his father's face but he saw his two strong arms started growing pale, as if the light leaving him. The boy started breathing harder, his eyes could not bear the tears that started flowing but before he continued his weep, the earth began to lightly shake as dozens of hooves started emerging from the forests, creating a dreadful rhythm within the environment.
They were at least dozen of black stallions chasing behind them and what it seemed to be the leader, rode the blackest. As for the riders, half of them carried flaming torches, making their faces visible, some of them had fair hair but most of them were black of hair. Some of their face were scarred and burned, the vile they were. The stallion of Helm and his father was Stóróf and he was the only white amongst them, making the stallion the most visible under the night, thus disabling the possibility to hide. Flee was the only option and Stóróf was the fastest, the four strong legs enabled the family to outrun them, but not before more black stallions started appearing before them. It was like doom in Helm's face and by that time his father's heart stopped beating.
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(Chapter 1 : The merriment of Childhood Part V will be the last installment for Chapter 1 and the story will continue in Chapter 2 : The Fabric of Tragedy)
