The Tree

Taken out of storage, dusted off, cleaned up and polished for submission into Nerd contest.

Johan made the top of the bluff and threw himself down onto the ground at the foot of a tree. His breath rasped in a dry throat and every muscle in his body seemed on fire from the exertion. The chase continued. The braying of hounds echoed through the woods behind, along with the shouts and curses of men. He had taken a risk, leaving the woods and venturing up this mostly treeless bluff. As soon as he’d left the tree line he’d been expecting to hear a shout of discovery, but so far, it seemed, his luck had held. He knew it was only a temporary reprieve; hunting hounds would reacquire his scent sooner or later. The inevitability of that seemed to sap his dwindling reserves of strength.

Johan rolled onto his stomach and crept forward to peer over the edge of the bluff. His breath caught in his throat. The ground dropped away almost vertically. Below, a river raged over rocks and smooth boulders, confined as it was between the constricting walls of rock on either side. Johan’s eyes followed the cliff up the other side, directly opposite where he was now lying. The distance, if one ignored the abyss below him, was only about half a dozen spans. Even on a good day, and with plenty of room for a run up and in full health, there was still no chance he’d be able to jump from one side to the other. Despair threatened to overwhelm him.

The men and their hounds were ranging closer. It wouldn't be long now till they picked up his scent and came charging up the hill. If he was caught up here, he’d die on their sharpened swords…if the hounds didn't tear him limb from limb beforehand.

To the left, the bluff continued for as far as he could see. To the right, the bluff slowly reduced in height to where it intersected the tree line near the river’s banks, perhaps half a league distance. He thought for a moment that that was probably the way to go; if he could get that far over the mostly treeless expanse without being noticed. Once there, he could cross the river - or perhaps float down with the current. By the time he made the river banks he could be leagues downstream…although there was also the chance he could be bashed to death against the rocks in the fast flowing water. Yes, that way definitely seemed the better option, except…except it seemed to him that most of the braying and shouting were coming from that up-river direction. Going that way would mean deliberately heading toward the enemy - and his certain death.

Johan groaned and rolled over onto his back and stared up at the tree branches above him. His thoughts were frantic. He ran through and discarded a handful of crazy scenarios, each as unlikely as the one before. Time was limited, and death approached, which did nothing for clear, level-headed thinking.

What was he going to do?!

All at once, he’s eyes widened as he realised for the first time exactly what he’d been staring up at. A tree…a giant tree. This late in the summer, every branch seemed overloaded with green, luscious leaves. His first thought was just race up the trunk and hide in the branches, but surely that would be too obvious. If his trail ended here, as it currently would, the very first place his pursuers would look would be up in the tree! But, what choice did he have?

A plan began to formulate. It was risky, ludicrous, completely mad…but therein lay its genius. If it failed, he would die. But if he spent too much time lying there procrastinating, he’d die anyway. With nothing to lose, and wasting no more time, Johan pushed himself to his feet and got to work.

The first part of the plan involved taking off all his clothing, including his loin cloth. His breaches and tunic were ripped almost beyond repair from the long chase and so dirty it was almost a relief to get out of them. He knew that he would regret the lack of clothing later on, especially his leather boots, but he had to live long enough to regret the loss in the first place. Next, he scrabbled about on his hands and knees at the base of the tree collecting as much dried leaves and twigs as he could. These, he stuffed into the pants and shirt, like his father used to do back on the farm when making an effigy to try scaring away the crows from the vegetable plot. Almost done, he rubbed the filthy loincloth all over both of the leaf and twig filled bundles. The pursuing hounds’ greatest assets were their acute sense of smell. After a day and a half on the run, Johan was hoping that small sweat-stained piece of cloth would drive the dogs mad with the scent is contained. He pushed the cloth down inside one of the bundles and then placed both bundles near the edge of the bluff.

Now came the hardest part.

His plan was to push both scent-covered cloth bundles over the edge and into the water below. With the leaves and twigs, he was hoping they would float for some time before being inundated and dragged under by the swiftly flowing water. Unfortunately if he just pushed them over, there would be no guarantee that the pursuers would buy the ruse. He had to make it convincing. He’d found a small, sharp-edged stone on the ground, which he now held against one forearm. He took a steadying breath…and cut deeply into the arm. Gritting his teeth with the pain, he drew the make-shift knife down in a long line, opening up a jagged scar. Blood flowed -much more then he’d thought possible. He splashed both bundles with blood, rubbed it in for good measure, and then pushed them over the edge. He leant over the side to make sure they fell true. They did; both bundles floated rapidly downriver on the surface of the water. Feeling light-headed all of a sudden, he waved his gashed arm back and forth over the edge to make sure there was enough blood scattered around for the hounds to pick up on. He hadn't meant to cut so deep; the hounds would go crazy with the amount of blood now sprayed over the cliff face.

Finally, his vision starting to go blurry at the edges, Johan packed his arm with a handful of moss he’d found on the opposite shadowed side of the tree. He was no woodsman; there a good chance the moss was the poisoned variety which would kill him soon anyway. But, like so many other things lately, his choices remained bleak. If he was lucky, the moss would stop the bleeding and prevent inflammation and infection from the cut.

Almost as if the entire scene had been scripted to perfection, Johan had just settled into the uppermost branches of the tree when the brays of the hounds changed tempo. They had found his scent.

In no time at all men and hounds converged on the tree from the forest below. The first hound to arrive had been so excited it had run straight over the edge, its excited bray turning to a fearful yelp as it fell down into the river. Feeling disconnected and a little numb from blood loss, Johan had had to bite his cheek hard to stop from bursting out laughing.  

More men arrived, and soon there seemed a whole army below him. The authoritative crack of an officer cut across the shouting men, calling for quiet and a report, in that order. With so many hounds going crazy with the smell of freshly spilt blood, it was an impossible request. In frustration, the officer ordered his men to move further away from the tree, clear of the dogs. Johan didn't have the strength or the inclination to lean out and track their movement; he held himself as still as possible, not daring to move. He expected to be pitted with arrows any moment.

Time passed in agonizing slowness. The officer, obviously an efficient man, sent dog handlers off with hounds to scout both sides of the river, up and down both banks. While waiting confirmation, the men set up a temporary camp. The smell of roasting meat soon drifted up to Johan’s perch, making his mouth water. The sun moved closer to the horizon, and fierce cramps wracked his body, but he dared not move to find a more comfortable position.

Just when Johan was beginning to think he’d be undone from fatigue (every second was a battle just to keep his eyes opened, and he knew if he succumbed to sleep he’d certainly fall) the camp below roused itself. One of the down-stream patrols had returned with word the scent had been picked up.  

Before long the bluff below his tree was empty of men and hounds and horses. He could hear their retreat as they made their fruitless trek downriver. Finally, he allowed himself to relax. Tension drained away and cramped muscles finally found succor.

Johan was thirsty, hungry, and near feinting from loss of blood. He was also in the middle of the wilds as naked as the day he was born...but he was alive.

Reviews

[Riding the Rainbow]

wow! I totally loved this piece!

[mikedorman33]

Yes, I'll begin with the positive: it was very descriptive; I particularly liked how your described the cleverness of Jonah, and what measures he had to do to throw off the hounds...it made it seem more professional, more viable somehow.
In particular, I loved this passage--how it appeared in the text and the image it placed in my mind: "Johan groaned and rolled over onto his back and stared up at the tree branches above him." It is short but quite powerful imagry.
Some critiques: I found it a bit slow-moving somehow. As exciting and intense a scene it is, it brings the reader in a bit slow...one thing I think that causes all this is the narrative distance. The third-person omniscient is a bit too-aloof for the emotional impact a scene such as this should thrust on the readers. I'm not saying go first-person, I'm saying maybe throw in a few, quick bursts of Jonah's thoughts, or some idiosyncratic manner of Jonah's speech that nudges its way into the narrative voice. Because while it is a good scene, I felt it lacked in terms of (1) pace, and (2) emotional impact.
But, of course, it is overall well written; I'm just trying to provide you some feedback you might work with. Just keep writing!

[AJJordan]

Thanx for you review:)

I completely agree with your critiques, but...I just kind of dragged this off one of my many "idea" files for the sole purpose of entering it into a competition. I guess you can tell my heart wasn't really into it. Plus, I was trying to explain as much as possible while still keeping it under the 2000 word mark as per the competition criteria. In short, I beg you to bypass this and head on off to my "proper" writing - chapters from my book titled Blood Sands...

Cheers:)