The noonday sun beat mercilessly down upon Vlad's deeply tanned neck and back. Sweat coursed in tiny. torrential streams down the sides of his face and continued their course onto his bare, straining chest. Each thud of his axe sent miniature explosions of sweat droplets spraying from his brow, and his veins bulged from his large biceps from day's efforts. It was man versus tree, but it was clear which side was winning this struggle. The life emanating from this tall, handsomely weathered man alone seemed to overcome the stout trunk, not to mention the sheer force of the axe biting into its bark. The tree shuddered, then finally fell, slowly at first, then with a whoosh that sent leaves and debris on the ground whisking into the air as the tip of the tree met the earth at high velocity.

Vlad sat on the fallen tree, almost in a triumphant manner, taking a long drink from a container of water nearby. His eyes closed as the refreshing water caressed and soothed his parched mouth. He peered up into the clear sky, shielding his eyes from the rays of the sun. Lightly swinging the heavy axe in one hand, he buried the blade into the trunk, then turned and sprawled out in a supine position onto the newly fallen tree, placed a large arm across his eyes and forehead to shield from the beating sun and began to nap and regain some energy for which to continue the long day.

The bleating of the sheep was a familiar sound to her ears. Brianna Madia had herded them many times over these lands. With her crook held comfortably in her small hands, she coaxed the sheep in the direction of green, plush grass and eventually took them down to the river's edge for a drink of water. Her locks of strawberry blonde hair fell fluidly about her silky neck as she bent down among her flock, speaking softly to them, calming them when necessary. Her body was slender, almost fragile looking, but her large brown eyes shone with an inner strength that was hard not to notice. Even in her plain dress, she looked elegant, a natural beauty befitting her surroundings.

She skillfully guided her herd from their morning grazing grounds and finally had them nestled inside their pen. She started to count as she always did after taking them abroad. Her smooth brow crinkled a bit as she finished counting. Her fingers started to poke again into the air as she counted off the flock again and even a third time. A worried expression crossed her face as she realized there was a sheep missing. She hurriedly locked the pen and headed back out to the area she had grazed them no more than a hour or so back.

The late morning sun rose high into the sky as she hurriedly searched the landscape for her lost sheep, occasionally calling out its name. The sun turned midday and beat down on her silky smooth skin and she frantically searched and called for her lost sheep.

Despite the increasing heat of the day, a cold chill pulsed thru her body. She had found what she was searching for, but it was too late. She stood by a woolly heap, blood trickling from its throat, its eyes sunken in and rolled back slightly. Her tears fell upon its plush, still warm body, her body quaking slightly from her loss. She began to stand, holding her hand to her mouth at the gruesome sight before her.

A pudgy hand suddenly grabbed her by the arm, jarring her mind as she turned to face the beady eyes of a smelly beast. Fear immediately gripped her, even stronger so than the clammy hand of the orc that held her forcefully. The eyes of the orc smoldered with a sickening yellowish red and grunts and other repugnant sounds gurgled from his wrinkly throat. He tore at her, ripping her dress and easily knocking her to the ground with his stubby, yet powerful arms. His eyes grew more excited at the sight of her smooth, bared skin and dropped his axe to the ground, realizing she could be of no threat to him. Her screams filled the air as he kneeled between her kicking legs. She flailed wildly, growing hoarse and weak as the orc struggled with what remained of her dress.

The air suddenly turned electric as the sound of a swiftly spinning axe whisked from out of nowhere and buried deeply into the back of the orcish assailant. The sound of bone and steel grinding together could be heard as the axe hewed thru the twisted spinal chord, snapping it easily in half before finally dissipating the force of its energy. The orc spasmed briefly as the life signals ceased to pulse thru him and finally keeled over onto the ground, partially across one of Brianna's legs. She continued to kick and scream despite seeing the dead orc laying still across her leg until she finally passed out from delirium.

Brianna woke with a start, trying to focus her eyes as well as clear the muddlings of her worn mind. She looked around. A warm fire crackled and casted playful shadows across the room. A sweet incense hung in the air, a natural, aromatic smell that caressed her senses and created a feeling of relaxation, comfort and security. The sound of a blade gently scrapping against wood could be heard coming from a large oaken chair near the fire. Her ears picked up the soft whistling of a lively melody coming from the chair near the fire and she knew she was not alone in this strange, yet cozy place. She shook her head as if to stimulate her thoughts, rubbing her long, slender fingers thru her tussled hair. She was in a large bed of some sort, plush furs surrounding her, almost protecting her from whatever ... or wherever she was. She looked down to find she wore a huge shirt many sizes too big for her small body. Her mind raced frantically, wondering why she was wearing this instead of her herding dress. The memory of the groping orc suddenly froze her for a moment and fear started to well up in her again.

The sound of her stirring must have reached Vlad as he stood tall and looked across the room at the frozen Brianna. The firelight behind him formed a warm aura around his massive silhouetted frame. He walked slowly, unthreateningly to the side of her bed, his laughing blue eyes looking into her frightned browns as if speaking silently to her, calming her spirit. A broad, cheerful smile filled his face and she relaxed a bit, feeling safe for the moment, but still holding the furs close to her body as well as drawing her legs in tightly. He spoke to her in a low, relaxing tone.

Hail, milady... I am Vlad Talon. Ye be quite lucky this day. I am sorry for the loss of yer sheep. Alas, for the orc, twas his last day as well.

The twinkle in his eye and the warmth of his rough voice penetrated her, relaxing her and she loosened her grip on the fur she held close to her. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came from her lips. She looked from side to side, her jaw trying to form syllables. She looked back up into Vlad's tanned, clean shaven face, tears welling in her large brown eyes. He felt a pain for her, sat next to her and offered his open arms to her. She lurched forward, clutched him tightly, and sobbed uncontrollably for several minutes. He held her, silently, letting her pain flow freely in the form of tears onto his neck and shoulder.

After many minutes, she slowly pulled back, wiping her eyes with a cloth he offered her. In a cracking, yet still feminine voice she finally spoke.

I... I... thank thee for what ye did today. *sniffle* My name is *pause* Brianna.

Well, Brianna, I need to get ye home before dark falls and yer flock thinks ye abandoned them. *with a hearty chuckle* I fear that shirt of mine is the best I can do for a dress.

She looked down again at the oversized shirt and laughed a sobbing laugh despite her condition. Her messed hair fell about her shoulders, and then watched Vlad as he got up and found a brush on a nearby table and handed it to her. She took the brush, got out of the soft bed and stood weakly in front of the slightly dulled mirror and combed thru her hair. The shirt she wore, though a perfect snug fit on Vlad's large chest, hung nearly to her knees. He motioned her and pointed to her sandals on the floor at the foot of the bed.

The two finally emerged from the snug loghouse and into the waning light of the falling sun. The walk was not too far, perhaps three miles or so. Vlad strode slowly with assured steps, his axe swinging lightly in one hand. Brianna kept close to his side as they made their way silently up a faint path until they finally arrived at the gate of her sheep pen. He took her hand, his smile never fading, and closed her fingers around a rough, carven object, looked into her eyes as he said fare well, then strolled back in the direction they had come.

She bade fare well to him then turned to go back to her home. While walking slowly back, she looked at the curious object he had given her. She saw a carven sheep grazing peacefully in etched grass. Closer inspection of the wool pattern on the grazing sheep revealed the etched face of a man, smiling.

-Vlad Talon

Other Vlad Talon Stories:

Reflections in the Wood - May 11, 1998
Revelations: Eagle or Trout? - May 14, 1998
The Seed that Blossoms - May 18, 1998
Tomes of the Soul - May 20, 1998
Chestnuts and Ebony - May 21, 1998
Passion Waves - June 1, 1998
Bow and Daisy - July 9, 1998