Chapter one

The land lay bathed in golden light as the early morning sun swept across it. An eagle circled high over the dense green of the forest canopy below, where dust danced and glittered in the shafts of sunlight that filtered through the gently swaying leaves.


“What's that noise Meril?” Egda asked his wife, pushing his way through the thick foliage.

“I don't hear anything! She replied sharply. Have you been on the Cracker-snap again you old fool?” She shook her head at him making her tightly knit curls bounce. They had been walking for hours and she was getting cranky.


“No my love...” He grinned. “Well, not much, but listen! I hear it again, it's getting louder!” His brow crinkled deeply as he pulled at his wife's arm and led her forward.


“Wait a minute” She stopped. “I can hear it now too. What on earth can it be?”


She marched boldly towards the source. She had always been inquisitive and not nosy as many called her.


“Why, if I'm not mistaken, that sounds like a baby's cry!” Egda followed her, his large ears pricked up. The wail led them to the base of an old gnarled tree, its giant roots spread out above ground.


“It's coming from in there!” Egda exclaimed pointing at a hollow.


“Move those twigs out of the way then!” Meril ordered him. Egda did as he was told. He hurriedly pulled apart the twigs and brushed away the leaves.


“Well, I'll be a Rogbeast's uncle!” He exclaimed. He reached in and pulled out a rather large baby.


“What are you doing in there?” He scratched his balding head.


Meril, equally perplexed, took the baby from her husband. She wrapped the mud stained blankets tighter around him and rocked him gently, soothing the babies tears. Her face softened as she looked at the child's plump cheeks and wide, trusting eyes.


“He ain't a Nimbian that's for sure.” She announced.


“What a strange thing to find...”


She looked around for any signs of who the baby belonged to, finding none she called out loudly.

“Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?”Her voice echoed though the dense trees before it was lost.

“Well we can't just leave him here, poor thing, and there's not a clue to tell us where he came from, or who he belongs to!”


“I think he like me!”


Egda laughed as the baby held tightly onto his finger. Meril ignored him, this was no time to be larking about, they needed answers. Meril looked intently at the child as if the answer would just pop into her head.


“He's a lively lad ain't he!” Egda scratched his head again for a moment as he pondered.


“I'll call you Taran for now, I've always liked that name.”

“Never mind naming him!” She shook her head frustrated.


Meril decided that the baby had definitely been hidden in the tree on purpose, as if he had been left by accident, he would have been out in the open. But where could his mother be? Surely she would have come back for him by now, the poor child was cold and undoubtedly hungry.

Meril thought it best that they stay put just in case someone came back for him. The babies mother would have a better chance of finding them if they stayed than if they went rambling off into the forest looking for her.

She told Egda to make a fire and she sat cradling the baby in the old woolen shawl she'd had wrapped around her shoulders. She began chewing up some of the bread they had brought with them to make it soft enough for him to eat.


The night came and went. Three more days followed that and still no one came for the child. So on the fifth day Meril thought it was time they went home. She smiled. It would be nice to have a halfen around the place again. As each day passed she had began to hope that the child would be left in their care, though she would have done anything to see the child returned to its mother. But if no one wanted him... She and Egda had never been blessed with children and they had given up hope of having any a long time ago. But now...

“Well we'd best start the journey back home to Napphia.” She informed her husband. “No one's coming back here for the child.” She sighed.


“You and your 'The best apples are in the Ashon forest'!” She imitated his voice mockingly. “Well instead of apples you've gone and found us a baby!” She shook her head with feigned disapproval.


“My mother warned me about marrying a cider tiller, But would I listen!”


She lifted the infant gently and re-wrapped him up neatly in her shawl. It was a long way to his new home.


Silent as the sleeping willow the two Nimbians made their way out from the depths of the Ashon forest. They walked back through the countless green, towering trees and made their way between the deep, leafy ferns that carpeted the forest floor. They stopped and picked a few apples where they could. The nights were getting colder now and autumn was not far away.


Two days later, they reached the little boat that they had left by the waters edge. It was bobbing cheerfully, moored to an obliging tree, on the Great Lake.


Egda rowed while Meril, sitting in front, began to sing a sweet song to baby Taran. It was a song her mother had sang to her when she was a halfen. It was all about Napphia.


“Far away from toil and strife,

That is a Nimbian's way of life,

The lake surrounds the boarders far,

Protected by the nimbus star.


So till the earth and bless the soil,

Time is not just for toil,

So raise a glass and clean your plate,

And toast to new friends that await”


She stopped singing, though there were still several more verses: the baby was already sound asleep. Meril was not one to over think things, but she could not help wondering about where this little one had come from.


It was night time when they approached the other side of the lake. The air was crisp, gently fragranced with the scent of fresh grass. The waters were cool and inviting and an early moon shone brightly in its depths. The sky was a blanket of stars.


In front of them a great wall of trees rose up but this was merely the western border's screen. The Nimbians were a quiet people who wanted nothing more than to be left alone. They were content to be quite overlooked and forgotten by the rest of the world. The screen of dense woods, carefully planted many years ago, helped them to remain so.

Egda helped Meril and the baby out of the small wooden boat. He then pulled it up off the bank and hid it in amongst the trees.


The Nimbians very rarely left their lands so there were only a handful of boats on the island. Only on rare occasions it was deemed necessary to travel to the other side of the lake. In Egda's case it was warranted because of course it involved apples.


He looked down at the small bag he had managed to fill on the way back. It was not much now but the pips would help his orchard to grow the finest apples and make the best cider in all of Napphia.


He rubbed his stubby nose and wondered with some humour what the rest of Napphia would make of his new son.