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The Trial of Stolken

Lara stepped outside feeling uneasy.

It was the clouds, she decided. They looked like insidious ogresses pregnant with menace as they hung in the evening sky. Ogresses sating their thirst with the sun's blood.

Shying from their ethereal wrath she sheltered within her shawl before leaving the protection of the porchway. Unnoticed, by her feet, lay the remains of a small dove-gray egg; and a tiny reptile scurrying for shelter.

She sighed heavily. As she stepped out from her garden the brick red dust of the roadway rose in angry whorls to hemorrhage the hem of her sprig muslin dress.

It would be a perfect day to die.

A man, clad in crimson leather, moved out from the shadow of the Marly Oak. He startled her. Grinning with a face as grim as death's coachman he spoke, tone unpleasantly stilted.

"Is this the village of Hoeton? Am I in time for the wedding of Julis?"

"Eh! That's a good job," Stolken stood back from the house, admiring his handiwork. "And in time too," he added eyeing the distant clouds, "in for a storm tonight and no doubt."

"Oh father it's wonderful," Julis hugged him.

"Thank you sir. We'll give you what's due, when we can," Hali promised.

Stolken laughed, clapping a huge hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Let's have none of that 'sir' lark, Hal," he smiled. "By Belas, lad, you're marrying my daughter tomorrow. It's Stol now, call me Stol."

"Er, right, Stol."

"It's all right Hal," Julis smiled sideways to her father. "Father snaps a lot but he doesn't bite."

"Cheeky scamp!" Stolken smiled. "If it weren't for the wedding I'd spank you good and proper. Well, thinking about it," Stolken mused absently, "it can wait 'til after."

"You know you won't father," Julis hugged him again, then gazed at the house he'd built. "We'll pay you back though, as soon as Hali gets settled and such."

"Don't worry about it," Stolken soothed, proud of each masoned brick and tenoned beam, a culmination of his life's career. "Just live contentedly and raise my grandchildren, that's all I'll expect."

Julis bit her lip and fell silent. Stolken glanced at her briefly then turned to the road to look for his wife, shielding his eyes from the low sun. Over the last few days Julis and Hali had acted strangely nervous, it puzzled him. Perhaps pre-wedding nerves, or were the local rumors effecting them?

"I wonder where Lara is?" Stolken spoke gruffly, hiding his concern. "Sun's coming to rest, she should be here by now, what with the weather and all."

"No need to fret father," Julis chastised him lightly, looping her arm through Hali's. "Best if we wait for her at the tavern, she's probably there expecting us now."

"Ah, I don't now, it's getting dark," Stolken countered. "I know it's less than a league but those roads, well I wouldn't like to trust them once the sun's gone. I've been shaken a few times myself."

Julis laughed and even Hali gave a half smile. She drew Hali forward and linked her free arm with her father's.

"And, no doubt, the flagons of ale had little to do with the beasties that prowled in the night," she teased. "No father, I think we should wait at the tavern. Mother will be there soon."

Stolken began walking, guided by Julis' gentle pressure.

"Eh, maybe you're right," he sighed."There you are Hal, see what kind of woman you're marrying. If you ever win an argument with her I'll personally buy you a barrel of ale."

"It's easy sir, Stol," he stuttered. "I always win the arguments. I argue for what she wants and lose."

Stolken's guffaw cracked the evening airs.

The tavern was a maudlin affair. Here and there flakes of stone, cracked by frost and penetrating damp, hung precariously to the weather beaten walls. This defect exposing the rot which crept into the rafters. Yet oblivious to it's misery the tavern had a cozy feel. An open fire fueled by giant oak logs crackled in its hearth and people gathered around to escape the bitter storm winds which cut in maliciously from the mountains. It was a homely tavern and tonight the delicate freshness of muslin clad women intermixed with the tangy smell of leather jerkins and slacks