Red Apples

((This memory is from 3003 TA, or roughly 16 years from the current game date of 3019 TA. Erik and Mymir were 10 years old.))




My brother is bored.

He gets that way sometimes and that is when I usually end up getting into trouble.

Today he is curious to see what would happen if he dropped an apple off the top of the wall.

In some cities, this would not cause much of a stir but when you are living in a city that is one big wall climbing the side of a mountain, you can imagine the kind of mess even an apple can cause when it is dropped from a few hundred feet.

As usual, I end up tagging along. Just for curiosity. I mean, how often do you get to see something as grand as an apple exploding on a paved street?


It was one of those dismal and rainy days during the Spring that can drive even the most mild-mannered young men to contemplate illicit activities. And it had been raining for the better part of the week.

Our father was away with the army trying to track down the usual bandits that seem to plague the outlying farms increasingly and our mother was busy tending to the small Inn that our family ran. So that left my brother and I alone for most of the day to dream of ways to amuse ourselves and not get caught.

This particular idea of dropping fruit from a large height came to my brother from watching the soldiers practicing with the Siege weapons in the field below. We stood and watched for hours as they loaded bags of sand and launched them. Our eyes following the flight of a hundred pound bag as it flew upwards and then back to the ground. Our eyes grew wider with each wet splash made as the bag connected with the wet ground, throwing water upward.

The idea was first considered of borrowing one of the bags but since each one weighed almost as much as we did, it was discarded quickly. Getting it to the top of the wall would have been impossible with just the two of us. And having to explain to the Watch why two young boys were dragging a bag of sand through the streets was not something we wished to encounter. From there the idea evolved into launching a large ham but that was discarded as well due to the fact that something of that size would be missed and as always, our mother would know we had somehow been involved in it's theft.

Smaller and smaller object were considered. Some were too large to conceal, some were to heavy to carry, some were just plain dangerous. We finally agreed that an apple, one each, would not be difficult to procure nor would it look suspicious. And if we were caught, we could always eat the evidence fairly quickly. With a look of satisfaction on both our faces, we finally agreed on the weapon and decided to carry out our task the following morning.


The next morning we procured an apple from our unsuspecting mother. Our cover story was that we were going to watch the soldiers practice once again and that we wanted to see them from a higher perch. She gave each of us a suspicious look but let us leave. Not having any doubts that two boys armed only with an apple each could cause much mayhem.

We grabbed our cloaks and set out on our grand adventure to test the impact of fruit on a hard surface.

Now the thing to realize about the White City is that it is often crowded and rarely quiet. There are caravans from most of the known world traveling back and forth at all times. Oxen-drawn carts loaded with farm produce, large horse-drawn wagons with supplies for the merchants and army, even recruits from the surrounding countryside entering or leaving the garrisons inside the walls. The two of us blended in with little notice other than the occasional turned head at seeing two identical boys.

We made our way to the highest wall that we could find and walked the length of it searching for a section that would be perfect for our quest. We came to a section of the wall that joined another, and from that meeting a tower was constructed to house siege equipment. This particular tower was being renovated and was deserted at this time of the morning. Perfect for our needs.

Within the tower there were a set of stairs that led to a trap-door to the roof. We climbed the stairs, unlatched the door and climbed out on the flat roof. Looking over the edge, we saw that we were a good hundred or so feet above the busy street below us. We could make out the passage of several carts filled with produce, birds, and crates and they slowly wound their way up the path to the Merchant stalls. We decided to wait until there was a lull in the traffic before we implemented our plan. We may have been curious but we were not willing to take the chance that the falling apples would hit someone accidentally.

The bad part about waiting when you are a young boy is that boredom sets in fairly quickly and you start to get restless. After that, you remember that you did not eat breakfast and the only food you have with you is what you intended to throw off the wall. After the first hour into our wait, we began to eye the apples with increasing interest.

We decided to modify our plan and that only one apple would be needed to complete our plan. It was agreed that my apple would be the one to be launched from the wall and that my brother's would be shared between the two of us. And then it dawned on us. Neither of us had brought a knife to divide the apple. Our mother had learned from many past adventures to not allow either of us access to a sharp object while we were on our own. But that is another story.

Now the great question of how to divide an apple equally without the use of a knife?

We placed the apples on the ledge while we sat and thought of how to solve this problem.

After a few minutes of thought, it came to us that maybe the workers had left something in the tower below that we could use. It was agreed that we would search the area below and try and find something we could use. I took the apple we planned to dissect and left the other on the ledge.

Descending the stairs into the tower we searched the room for anything that would fit the need of being sharp enough and thin enough to do the job.

After a few minutes of searching, we came to the conclusion that nothing came close to fitting the needs of an apple cutter so we climbed the stairs once again and climbed out on the roof.

Turning to the wall once again, we spied one of the large crows that gather around the city picking at whatever left-over food happens to be available. And at this time, it had found something.

The apple we had left on the ledge was currently being pecked at by our invader. It took notice of us and grasped the apple in its talons and took flight.

Seeing my only meal of the day being carried out of reach by a scavenger, I reacted without thinking and took the remaining apple from my pocket and threw it with all my might at our unwanted apple thief.

Now. There are moments in your life when you realize what you have done just one second too late. The times when you answer truthfully to a spouse when a small lie would have served better. The times you throw a punch in a pub over a spilled drink and then realize that your opponent has three rather large friends at his side. Later, much later, you will curse yourself for not thinking before you act.
For me, this was one of the first. And certainly not the last. But all that aside, this is what happened next.

The apple I flung with such strength and anger flew straight and true and struck the opposing apple soundly. The bird, being startled by the sudden force let go of it's cargo and flew straight off. The two apples, now free began their slow arc towards the ground, some one hundred feet below.

Just at this moment, a large wagon filled with chickens was passing under the wall. The farmer was on his way to the butcher to sell his stock and to buy a few things for the wife and children. The descending apples would not be met with a welcoming smile.

The first apple missed the cart and landed in between the horses pulling it. The sound it made when hitting the paving stones was akin to a clap of thunder. The horses reacted by rearing up in fear and jolting the cart forward as they began to flee from the loud sound. This moved the cart a little over ten feet forward.

This placed the target of the second apple squarely in the center of the cart and it hit it's target perfectly.

It crashed through the stacked cages and the bottom of the cart before exploding with another sound akin to the first. The horses, already on the verge of terror decided that two sounds so close together were not something they wished to experience. And off they ran at a full gallop, dragging the cart, the farmer, the farmhand at his side, and twenty or so cages of now very upset chickens in their wake.

The cart had traveled not more than twenty feet when the chickens from the broken cages, caused by the second apple, decided to stage an escape. This would not normally have succeeded except for just at that moment the cart hit a rather large and slightly taller paving stone and the whole assembly lurched upward. This sudden upward motion causes the crates to shift and slide towards the back of the cart which had been secured with a piece of rope that was far outside it's tolerance to hold back the combined weight now applied to it.

With a muffled crack, the rope gave up it's effort and the crates behind it began to slide towards the edge. One by one, they tipped over the edge and began to tumble on the street, breaking apart as they impacted with the hard surface. The inhabitants of the cages now realizing that nothing stood between them and freedom began to take to the streets in a mad dash to get away. All told, more than forty of the feathered creatures were set loose on the crowded street.

As luck would have it, a detachment of the Watch were making their rounds at this time and turned onto the street to see the mass of feathers and confusion. They immediately rushed to the aid of the farmer in gathering his stock and preventing the escaping and by now frantic birds from causing any more destruction. But as anyone that has lived on a farm can tell you, if a chicken does not want to be caught, it can prove a very resourceful and elusive target.

One such bird being a bit more elusive than his fellows decided to make a break for it on the walkway by the side of the path. Weaving in and out of the human traffic it was making steady progress towards the bottom of the hill.

About halfway down the hill it encountered a man exiting one of the many shops that litter this section of the city. The man was carrying a rather large cask of oil to his cart. The oil was destined for one of the many Inns to be used by the cook in the kitchen.

The stone walkway, having been covered in rainwater for the past few days was not to be considered the most reliable of surfaces for a sure-footed person. Apply a fleeing animal to an overladen man on a slick surface and it does not bode well for anything or anyone involved.

The chicken impacted with the man who was attempting to gain a better grip on the cask. The sudden force caused him to lose his grip and stumble. The man fell forward, the cask flew into the street and another loud crack was heard as it broke open and its contents began to stream down the hill. Right into the path of the next wagon coming up the road.

This cart however did not suffer any of the deficits of the previous one. It was drawn by two strong oxen, was made of strong materials and it's contents were securely fastened with straps and bands. This however did not suffice to save it when the oil reached the feet of the oxen.

The oxen first thought the liquid streaming around them was more of the water from the rain they had had to endure for the last two days. Rain water was something to be endured and not feared. It was when they tried to take their next step that the realization that something was not quite right with this brand of water and by then it was too late to stop.

The oxen began to slip and slide on the oil and finally lost their footing and fell over on their sides. Without their efforts to keep the wagon moving up the hill, it began to slide backwards as well. The oil, having continued to stream around the oxen and over the wheels of the cart merely added to the backwards journey. The only saving grace to this situation was that the wagon, oxen, and contents were no more than twenty or so feet from the bottom of the hill and the unsuspecting Inn in it's path.

Slowly gathering speed, the wagon and its companions slid towards the Inn with the certainty of a sudden stop in their future. The men on the wagon made the decision that it would be safer to simply ride out the journey than take the chance of being crushed by the oxen as they passed. They were now ten feet from the Inn.

At this moment, our mother decided to investigate the awful sounds that seemed to be gaining in volume. She crossed to the door of the Inn and opened it in time to see a rather large wagon bearing down on the Inn at a rather brisk pace. Being a quick thinker and having survived two sons and their activities, she ran for the bar and leaped over it in time to avoid the impact of the collision.

Now. Back on the roof, my brother and I watched all of this as it rapidly turned from bad to worse. We also realized, with dread in our minds, exactly which Inn the wagon was heading for and what would happen if we were found to be involved in any way. We chose this moment to beat a hasty retreat down the stairs and onto the wall, racing each other to see who could make it as far from the area of destruction as we could. We knew full well that if our mother even suspected that we were within half a mile of this, we would be forced to admit our involvement.

We ran all the way home, having wisely avoiding the street of destruction that our activities had caused. Having reached our home at last, we hurriedly changed into dry clothes and proceeded to do away with anything that could implicate us in the incident.

Our mother arrived home a few hours later carrying a large covered basket. She placed the basket on the table and called us into the room. It seems there was an accident at the Inn today and she would not have to work the rest of the day or the next. She had left the others to clean up the mess and come home to make sure that we were not causing any mischief.

In the intervening hours between our arrival and hers we had decided to keep ourselves busy and do most of the housework and chores like the good sons we were. Our mother smiled at us for being so well-behaved and turned to the basket and withdrew a reward.

She turned to face us with a smile and a present. One for each of us.

Two bright red apples.

The contents of the wagon...

Even to this day, I still love apples. They brought excitement into an otherwise boring day. And I got to be on the receiving end of one of my mother's radiant smiles.

And we even had chicken that night for dinner. It seems that a few of them didn't make it out alive....


((to be continued))