Falls Ende

Chapter 2

The constant moisture in the vicinity of the waterfall caused wood to deteriorate quickly. The ground was permanently saturated, and the existing fence had fallen in places, no doubt succumbing to rot, its condition aggravated by cows constantly leaning against it. Only recently, a grazing sheep stood near the edge, and though sheep were usually sure footed, it slipped and tumbled into the waterfall, its sodden heavy wool causing it to drown in the pool. The value of a healthy sheep was almost incalculable, and the loss of serious concern, so repairing the fence was a priority.

Sheep weren't the only victims of the waterfall. Over time, other animals lost their footing and fell, and some years earlier a hunter trying to cross the chasm at its narrowest point slipped on moss and plummeted into the falls, hitting his head on rocks as he fell. Unable to drag himself to safety, the severely injured man eventually died as he clung to a protruding boulder at the base of the falls. The grotesque sight of a decomposing body was discovered some time later by children searching for mushrooms. Within Mellester Village, out of earshot of the huntsman's grieving widow, speculation was rife as to how many days the poor fellow suffered, his tormented screams unheard, before he eventually died.

While the waterfall may once have had a formal name bestowed upon it by a previous lord, it was now known by everyone, both near and afar, as Falls Ende.

With the morning's tranquillity marred by the sound of barking dogs, Godwin Read instructed his only son, eleven-year-old Odo, on where he wanted new fence post holes dug, and within a short time, breathing heavily, each was enveloped in a white fog of condensation as both father and son diligently went about their work.

They were adequately and similarly dressed. Each wore a capuchin, a hood that extended over their heads and then went down and around the neck like a collar which draped over the shoulders. Beneath the capuchin they wore a knee-length tunic, which, together with breeches made from coarse home-spun wool, was secured by a belt at the waist. Godwin Read wore a pair of leather goatskin boots, while Odo was barefoot. If he had cold feet, he didn't complain.

The fence they were repairing ran parallel to the river and was situated about three feet back from the precipitous edge. Hidden rocks buried beneath the soil made digging with wooden spades difficult. Even the metal foot which prevented the wood from wearing out on the blade was ineffectual. Warming up as he worked, Godwin removed his capuchin, and Odo, happy to emulate his father, was about to do the same.

From the sound of frantic hounds, Godwin could tell the dogs were drawing nearer. He paused in his digging and took a moment to listen. Seeing his father stop, young Odo gratefully took a rest as well, leaning on his spade as he waited for a hint of what was going on.

Godwin raised his arm and pointed in the direction where he could hear the hounds. They watched and waited. Through the roar of cascading water, they began to hear the clamour and the excited shouts of men on horseback as they came ever closer.

Suddenly, bushes near the track began moving and a massive wild boar charged out. Standing over three feet in height and over six feet in length, the immense animal slid to a halt on the narrow path with its sides heaving, labouring for breath. It was coloured black and grey and a raised line of coarse hair ran down the length of its back. Two curved tusks protruding from its snout drew attention to the business end of the dangerous and powerful beast.

Both Godwin and Odo, safely on the other side of the falls, stood transfixed as the boar turned its massive head to each side, deciding in which direction to flee. Not wishing to be impaled by a hunter's spear and turned into a trophy, the boar, with its head down, rushed up the riverwalk and away. Godwin fervently hoped no one was walking further up the path, as they would surely be in grave peril.

Almost immediately, more shouting drew Godwin's attention to the tree line as a mounted knight carrying a spear broke free from the forest. Yanking hard on the reins, he expertly pulled the courser to a halt before it plummeted into the falls, and looked in the direction where his quarry fled. Godwin recognized the man at once - it was Sir William Ainsley, Lord of Mellester Manor.

The lord saw the boar in the distance as it made good its escape. Accepting the challenge and baring his teeth in a smile, Sir William dug his spurs into the courser's sides, and the horse leapt forward to give chase. Before the courser had taken two steps, a hound shot out from the low bushes at the fringe of the forest and was almost trampled underfoot. Heedless of the effect its sudden appearance made on the horse, the young hound began gleefully pursuing the fleeing boar, while ignoring yelled commands to return.

The courser hadn't expected the sudden encroachment on its space, and two things happened. The horse shied away from the dog and reared backwards. With one arm raised carrying his spear, Sir William was caught completely by surprise and off-balance. As the courser lunged to the side and its front feet lifted from the ground, Sir William tumbled from the saddle, landing heavily on the thin border of wet grass that grew alongside the path, and began to slide headfirst down and into the falls. With eyes wide and snorting, the horse regained its footing and began to trot away.