Chapter 3: Finn Departs (Revised)

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[Once again, a slight edit of a previous version.  I also borrowed a couple sentences from the Gemini version.]

Chapter 3: Finn Departs

By noon, the three of them were exhausted.  They came back to the house, went straight for the table, and collapsed into their wooden chairs.  Their muscles ached from a morning of hauling timber. Margaret, the heart of the home, moved gracefully between them. She began pouring steaming bowls of thick, savory soup, the aroma filling the small stone kitchen.

Margaret had white hair, just like her husband Finn, but her face had aged much better than his.  Margaret had a face that remained soft and beautiful. However, as she handed a warm loaf of bread to Catherine, the true story of her life was written on her hands. They were weathered and lined with deep wrinkles and prominent veins—the hands of someone who had spent decades surviving the harsh wilderness. Catherine looked at her mother’s hands with quiet respect as she took the bread.

After she had served them their soup and bread, Margaret sat down at the table to join in the meal.

At first, Catherine, Carlyle and Finn were too tired to talk, so they just sat and ate their food.  Margaret let them eat in silence for a couple of minutes, but then she began asking questions.

“Did you finish?” she asked.

Finn grunted.  “Finished.  All the logs are sawed and in the cart.”

“When will you leave?” Margaret said.

Finn wiped the soup off of his chin with his bread.   “Brian should be coming around shortly,” he said.  “I’ll leave when he gets here.”

“And how long will you be gone this time?” Margaret asked.

“Same as usual.  It should take us two days to get down into the forest.  Then once we get to the forest, we’ll need some time to sell the wood and buy the supplies.  And then two days to get back up.”

“Don’t spend too long in the forest,” Margaret said.

“Don’t worry,” Finn answered.  “Believe me, Brian doesn’t want to spend time in the forest any more than I do.  If we’re lucky, we should get all our selling and buying done in two days.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” said Margaret.

“I know,” said Finn.  “But it can’t be helped.  Winter is coming, and we need the food.”

“It’s dangerous traveling with just the two of you,” said Margaret.  “You’d be safer with more people.”

“If there was a bigger group, we’d have to split the money with more people.  Besides, a bigger group would mean more characters to keep track of.  I trust Brian, but he’s one of the few people on this mountain that I do trust.”

Carlyle chirped up.  “I can come with you.”

“No,” said Finn flatly.

“But I’ve never seen the forest,” Carlyle protested.  “Besides, I’m old enough.  I can help in a fight.  And I can pull the cart,” said Carlyle.

“Brian and I can pull the cart just fine,” said Finn.  Besides, your mother and sister need you up here.”

“We could all come,” said Catherine.  

“You’ll stay here,” said Finn.  “And Brian’s son, Alfred, will stay with you as well.”

Catherine groaned loudly.

“What’s wrong?” asked Finn.

“I hate it when Carlyle’s friends stay over,” said Catherine.  “They give me a headache by talking nonsense the whole night.  And Alfred is the worst of them.”

“I’m sorry,” said Finn, although his tone did not indicate any sorrow.  “But it’s already been decided.  Brian can’t leave his son alone up here on the mountain.  It’s too dangerous at night.  And besides, you three could use someone else in the house in case there’s another attack.  Alfred is old enough to help in a fight now, if he needs to.”

Catherine rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue further.

They all went back to eating their meal in silence for a while, and then Carlyle spoke up again.  “There’s one thing I’ve never understood,” said Carlyle.  “Why do the forest people always give you money in exchange for the wood?  There are plenty of trees in the forest.  Why don’t they just cut their own lumber?”

“Because,” said Finn, tearing off another mouthful of bread with his teeth, “You’d have to be crazy to kill a tree when you’re down in the forest.” 

“What does that mean?” asked Catherine.  But Finn ignored her question.

“Then why don’t the forest people come up here to get their own wood?” asked Carlyle.

“Because the mountains are too dangerous for them,” Finn answered.  “The forest people aren’t used to all the dangerous creatures.  Plus they don’t know the area. You remember the group that got mauled by the bears four years ago?  Those were forest people.  They came up here to cut down some trees, and they didn’t realize how close they were to bear territory.  And because they weren’t used to watching for bears, they didn’t notice it when the bears started to creep around them.  And then when the bears did attack, they didn’t know how to defend themselves.”

“I remember you telling us about that,” said Carlyle.  “But you wouldn’t let us see the bodies.”

“You didn’t need to see the bodies.  Brian and I brought what was left of them back to the forest, and their families paid us something for our trouble.  But ever since then, no forest people have come up here again.” 

“Somebody ought to do something about those bears,” said Carlyle.  “All the men on this mountain have swords.  I’ll bet if we all attacked at once, we could kill all the bears.”

Finn sighed, and shook his head from side to side.  “Carlyle, what have I always taught you?” he asked.

“I know,” said Carlyle, “But--”

“Say it,” Finn insisted.

“You always say that the key to surviving is avoiding any fights,” said Carlyle.

“Any unnecessary fights,” Finn corrected.  “You must always avoid unnecessary fights.  Otherwise you’ll never survive in these mountains.”

“But it is necessary,” Carlyle insisted.  “Every year someone we know gets killed by the bears.  Why do we just sit back and let the bears pick us off one by one?  We should bring the fight to them.”

Finn looked around the table at Margaret, Catherine and Carlyle in exasperation, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Then he looked back at Carlyle.  “Do you think you can beat a bear in a fight?  Have you ever seen a man fight an angry bear?  Even with a sword, you only stand half a chance.”

“I didn’t say just me,” said Carlyle.  “But if all the men on this mountain got together--.”

“The men who live on this mountain are treacherous lowlifes who would just as likely stab you in the back as fight alongside you.  You would never want to go into a battle with a group like that.”

“But we have to fight back somehow,” said Carlyle.  

“No, you don’t,” Finn insisted.  “You can stay home and just eat your soup, and leave the bears alone.  Then you have a one-hundred percent chance of surviving.”

Finn was getting excited, and his voice had risen.  Carlyle knew better than to argue with his father when the old man was agitated, so he kept his mouth shut and went back to eating his soup.  

“Finn, he’s just talking,” Margaret said after a bit.  “You have to be more patient with him--with both of them.”

“They should talk less and listen more,” Finn growled.  “They don’t understand anything.”

“Well, explain it to them then,” Margaret said.

There was another minute of silence at the table, and then Finn spoke up again, this time in a much calmer voice.  “Carlyle, I know you think I’m old and you think I don’t understand.  But I wouldn’t have gotten so old if I didn’t know how to survive on these mountains.  How many other old men do you see on these mountain tops?”

“There’s none as old as you,” put in Catherine.

“Exactly,” said Finn.  “That should tell you something.  I know how to survive.  And I want you two to live to a ripe old age as well.  That’s why I’m always telling you what to do.”

“But the bears won’t leave us alone,” Carlyle said.  

“The bears aren’t so bad,” said Finn.  “The problem is all the robbers that live in these mountains.  The robbers steal from the bears all the time, and the bears can’t distinguish between peaceful humans and the robbers.  So when any human being gets too close to their territory, the bears attack.”

“Well, somebody ought to do something about the robbers then,” Carlyle shot back.

There was a nervous silence as both Catherine and Carlyle looked at Finn.  They expected him to raise his voice again, but Finn just chuckled.   “Better men than you have tried to cleanse these mountains of the robber gangs.  Many years ago, the forest people sent a whole army up into these mountains to try to get rid of these robbers.  But there are too many caves and crevices in the mountains for the robbers to hide in.  Nobody could ever get rid of all the robbers in these mountains.  And if by some miracle, somebody did manage it, more robbers would just come out of nowhere to take their places.  The mountains are just too perfect a hiding place for them.” 

There was a knock on the door.  There was half-a-second of panic when everyone reached for their weapons, before they all remembered that Brian was coming.  “That’ll be Brian,” said Finn.  “Everybody relax.”  Although even as he said this, Finn still kept one hand on his sword.

“It’s me, Finn,” came a voice from outside.  “Open up.”

At the sound of this familiar voice, Finn took his hand off of his sword, walked over, undid the latch, and pulled open the door.  Brian stepped into the doorway, and with him came a gust of cold air.  

Brian had a healthy pink looking face, and a full head of brown hair, and a thick curly brown bread.  With broad shoulders and a big chest, he fully looked the part of a mountain woodsman. 

“Whoa! What is that smell?” Brian bellowed as he came into the house.  

“You know what it is,” said Finn in a tired voice.  “It’s the same smell as always--Margaret’s collection of plants and herbs.”

“Hello Margaret,” said Brian.  “Glad to see you haven’t lost your touch.  Still keeping your medicine cabinet fresh, I see.”

“Hello Brian,” Margaret replied.  “Yes, I’m still collecting the useful herbs and roots.  If you ever get sick, you know where to find me.”

Brian laughed.  “I promise, you’ll be the first person I visit,” he said.  “Hello Catherine.  Hello Carlyle.  My! You two are getting big.  How old are they, Finn?”

“Fifteen this year,” said Finn.

“Getting old enough to finally help out around here,” said Brian.

“Getting old enough to bother me with a lot of questions,” said Finn grumpily.  “How is Alfred doing?”

Brian stepped aside to reveal his son, who was standing behind him.  “Fourteen this year.  And getting strong and tough, just like his father.”

Alfred grimaced in embarrassment at this, but then he caught Carlyle’s eye and let out a small laugh as if to say, “How ridiculous that he’s embarrassing me this way”  Carlyle laughed back, and pretty soon Brian joined in the laughter as well as he tousled Alfred’s black hair with his big hands.  Alfred put up with the tousling briefly, and then slowly stepped out of his father’s reach.

Alfred was slightly smaller than Carlyle and Catherine, but because he was constantly running around outside and getting into fights, he did indeed look strong and tough.  

“Alfred, I appreciate you staying with my family,” said Finn.  “There shouldn’t be any attacks this week.  We gave them something to remember when we fought off the last attack.  But just in case, Catherine and Carlyle will show you where the weapons are.”

“Yes sir,” said Alfred.

“Do you want any soup?” Finn asked Brian.

“No, the boy and I already ate,” said Brian.  “We should get going.  It’s past noon already.”

Finn started stepping outside.

“Don’t forget your coat, Father” said Carlyle, running after Finn.

“It’s alright,” said Finn, patting Carlyle affectionately.  “It’s actually not as cold at the bottom of the mountain as it is at the top.  We’ll be fine in the forest without coats.”

“Bring it anyway,” said Margaret.  “Just in case.”

Finn recognized the tone of voice, and knew better than to argue.  “Yes dear,” he said.

“I still don’t understand why we can’t all come,” said Carlyle.  “I want to see the forest.”

“When you’re older,” said Finn.

“But why?” asked Carlyle.  

“When you’re older,” said Finn again firmly, and he patted Carlyle on the back again.  “Take care while I’m gone.  You too Catherine.  And take care of your mother, both of you.”

“And stay inside if you can,” Brian added.  “Remember, watch out for the goblins.”

“You be careful as well,” Margaret called out to Finn and Brian.

“I’m bringing my sword, as always,” Finn said.

“Don’t worry, Margaret,” Brian called back.  “I’ll look after Finn.”

Finn and Brian walked to the cart.  They each had a sword strapped to their back, which they then each threw onto the cart.  As the two swords clattered on the cart, the difference between them was noticeable.  Brian’s sword was cheap and thin looking.  Finn’s sword was masterfully designed.   

Brian noticed the difference, and looked at Finn’s sword wistfully.  “That’s a very nice sword, Finn,” he said.

“You’ve seen me use it before,” Finn replied.  “Remember last year when the ogres attacked?”

“In all the confusion of the fight, I don’t remember getting a good look at it at the time,” Brian said.  “How does a mountain woodsman like you afford such a nice sword like that?  That’s not a woodsman’s sword.” 

“No, you’re right,” said Finn.  “That sword is a holdover from the old days.  Before I became a woodsman.”

“And what exactly did you do in the old days anyway,” Brian asked.

“I’ll tell you some other time,” Finn answered.  “Come on, let’s go.  We need to get to the first station before dark.”  Then they each grabbed one of the shafts, and with a great pull, set the cart in motion.

From the doorway, Carlyle, Catherine and Alfred watched their fathers pull the cart down the mountain.  As they left the house, at first they traveled over a bare mountain slope that was mostly covered by stone, mountain grass, and scattered trees.  But as Finn and Brian journeyed down the mountain slope, the trees became more frequent.  Eventually, as the trees eventually became frequent enough to constitute a wooded area, Finn and Brian came to the mouth of a path.  This was what was referred to as the Mountain Road.  Finn and Brian entered the road, and soon disappeared out of sight.

“Right,” said Alfred.  “Who wants to go exploring?”

************************************************************ Below are the images that Gemini Storybook generated for this chapter. As Gemini Storybook is AI, naturally these pictures are not 100% accurate to the story, but they are at least kind of close, and so I thought I would post them here to help convey the atmosphere of the story.

I fed Chapter 6: Catherine Asks for Help into Google Gemini Storybook.  Here is the resulting storybook, and here is the link to the original chat.

Chapter 2: Chopping Down Trees (Revised)

Google: docs, pub

[Original version here.  Once again, I borrowed very little from the Gemini version.  I think I only took one sentence directly, although there were a couple other edits that were inspired by Gemini's framing.]

Chapter 2: Chopping Down Trees

In the morning, Finn worked on the door.  Catherine and Carlyle helped to hold the wooden planks for him as he hammered in the nails.  Inside, the smell of pine smoke and dried herbs filled the air as Margaret cooked breakfast for them. 

Margaret came over every now and then to check on their progress.  “How are you coming?” she asked.

“We’ll have it as good as new,” said Finn.  “The steel beams weren’t damaged, so we can use them again.  It’s just a matter of hammering the new blanks into place.”

“I wish you weren’t going down to the forest,” Margaret said.  “Last night’s attack was a big one.”

Finn looked up from his hammering.  “You know how much I hate leaving you and the children here alone,” he said.  “But I have to go.  We need the supplies.  And if I have to go, this is the best time to do it.  We put up a good fight last night.  They always stay away for a while after they’ve been hurt.”

“How long do you think they’ll stay away this time?” asked Carlyle.

Finn looked at Carlyle and Catherine.  “You two are old enough to try to work these things out for yourselves,” he answered.  “How often do they usually attack?”

“It usually depends on how well we fought the previous time,” said Catherine.  “Maybe about once every two months?”

“After last night, I’d say we bought ourselves two months at least,” Finn said.  “But we’ll still want a strong door.  Now, help me nail this plank into place.”

After the door was built, Finn, Catherine and Carlyle moved back the boulders, took the table down, and then lifted up the new door and put it in place at the entrance to the cave.  Finn then fastened it to the side of the cave wall using rope hinges that were tied to the pegs in the cave wall. 

Finn stood back and admired his handiwork.  “There,” he said proudly.  “I’d like to see them try to knock that one in.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” said Margaret quietly.

Finn grumbled.  “The morning’s half gone already,” he said.  “And we were supposed to chop the wood before Brian gets here.”

“There should still be plenty of time,” Margaret said.  “And I’ll have your food waiting when you get back.  Now be careful.  Don’t strain yourself.”

Finn simply growled in response. He got his sword down from the cave wall.  It was still in its sheath, and was tied to an old rope that made a shoulder strap, so that Finn could carry the sword across his back while he walked.  Next, Finn took his ax down from the cave wall.  “Come on, then,” he said to Catherine and Carlyle.  “I’m going to need your help with this.  You know what to do.” 

They stepped outside.  There was a light covering of snow over the mountainside.  It seldom snowed heavily in the mountains, but a light covering of snow was not unusual, especially in the mornings.  But it was the wind that made the mountaintop so cold. 

Catherine rubbed her hands together to warm them up. Carlyle cupped his hands around his mouth and blew into them to keep them warm.  

“Come on then,” said Finn, pushing past them and walking outside.  “You two will warm up once we start the work.”

Carlyle and Catherine both went to get the cart.  They each grabbed one of the shafts and tugged.  The wooden wheels were stuck in the frozen ground, so it was difficult to get the cart moving.  The cart rocked forwards and backwards slightly until they gave a final heave and the wheels broke out of their rut and the cart lurched forward. 

The journey was downhill, so once the cart was moving, the challenge was to make sure it didn’t get away from them and roll down the mountain on its own.  They moved quickly to try to catch up with Finn, but they also braced their backs against the front of the cart as they led it down the slope.

Finn stopped walking when he got to the first few trees.

The mountain, although it was rocky, was also covered with trees, and it was from these trees that Finn had his living.  Finn stood next to a tall pine tree.  He unstrapped the sword from his back and laid it on the ground.  In the mountains it was always useful to keep a sword nearby, but it wasn’t always convenient to have it strapped onto your body when you were doing work.

Finn then knelt down in the snow beneath the tree.  He raised his hands up before the tree in supplication.  In a loud voice, he cried out to the tree, “Forgive me, for what I am about to do.  I must do this to survive.  If there are any spirits or other beings who have made this tree their home, tell me now in order that I may not harm you unknowingly.”  

Carlyle and Catherine looked at each other.  They always felt slightly embarrassed of their father in these moments.

After a suitable pause, Finn continued.  “If there are any spirits or nymphs in this tree, I beg your forgiveness.  I declare that I am ignorant of any beings who live in this tree.”

The ritual then completed, Finn stood to his feet. 

“Why do you always do that?” asked Catherine.

“You’ve asked me that before,” said Finn, as he gripped the ax in both hands and carefully planted his feet.  “And the answer is the same thing I told you last time.  You always need to be careful of the woodland spirits.”

“But nobody else does it,” said Carlyle.  “None of the other woodsmen in the mountains ever do it.”

Finn swung the ax, and struck the tree.  The first hit barely cut through the bark.

Finn grunted.  “None of the other people in these mountains know what I know.”

He swung again.  This time with more force.  The ax head buried itself in the wood, and Finn had difficulty pulling it out again.  He had to wiggle the handle back and forth to free the blade.

“Why do you know so much?” asked Catherine.  

There was a cynical tone in her voice.  Ever since they had become teenagers, they had started to question Finn more and more.

Finn noticed the tone, and snapped back.  “Because I’ve lived a long life.  And because I’ve lived in a lot of different places.”  He swung the ax again at the tree.  “And believe me, if these yokels up here in the mountains knew anything, they would do what I do.”  Finn knew his children were beginning to doubt him, and it worried him.  He paused from the chopping to point his finger at them.  “Don’t listen to what anyone else up here says.  You never harm a tree without first checking to see if any spirits are living in it.” 

Finn went back to chopping.  Catherine and Carlyle exchanged another glance.

“And best not to harm a tree at all if you can avoid it,” Finn said.  “The only reason I’m doing this is that we need more supplies.”

After a couple minutes, Finn stopped chopping again, but this time it wasn’t because of his children.  His hands were having trouble gripping the ax.  It was frustrating growing old.  He still had plenty of strength left in his arms, but the aches in his hand and his fingers were becoming worse. He dropped the ax to the ground, and tried to massage away the pain by grabbing one hand with the other, and rubbing his thumbs against his palms.  Finn’s hands were wrinkly and splotchy.  And gaunt.  The skin was tightly wrapped around bony knuckles and enlarged veins.  

Carlyle took a step towards him.  “Father, let me swing the ax,” he said.

But this show of filial piety did not please Finn.  “I can do it,” he growled.  “I’m not old and useless yet.”

“I know,” said Carlyle.  “But I can also do it.”

“Your job is to do the sawing,” said Finn.  “I’ll handle the chopping.”

The sharp tone of Finn’s voice made it clear that the discussion was over.  Carlyle stepped backwards to where he had been standing.  After a minute, Finn picked up the ax again.

Finn’s hands were becoming his weak point.  And although he tried to hide it, his knees were also beginning to get sore frequently.  But overall, Finn had aged fairly well.  The muscles on his arms and chest were still big, and their outline was noticeable even through the thick shirt that he wore.  His hair had turned white years ago, but it still looked full and healthy.  His face looked worn and weathered, but that was normal in these parts.  At least the skin around his face looked taut instead of saggy and wrinkled.  

The thing that made Finn unique was that he didn’t have a full beard, like most of the other men in the mountains did.  This wasn’t entirely a matter of choice--for whatever reason, Finn’s face just wasn’t predisposed to grow breads.  There was some prickly white stubble that came around his chin and parts of his cheek, but it was never enough to grow a full beard.  Because the scattered whiskers looked ridiculous when they grew too long, every few days Finn shaved his face.  In between those days, he just had rough looking stubble, like he did now.

“Stand clear,” Finn said loudly.  Carlyle and Catherine moved behind Finn as the tree toppled over.

“Right,” said Finn.  “The saw’s in the cart.  You two know what to do.  Make sure the logs are long enough that I can trade them, but short  enough so that they’ll fit in the cart.”

Finn trudged down a little ways further down the mountain, and then knelt on his knees in front of the next tree.  He repeated his ritual, raising his hands again, and yelling up to the tree.  “Forgive me, for what I am about to do.  I must do this to survive.  If there are any spirits or other beings who have made this tree their home…” 

While Finn was still yelling, Carlyle walked around to the cart to get the saw out, and brought it back to Catherine.  Catherine grabbed the handle on one side, and Carlyle grabbed the handle on the other.  And then, pulling back and forth, they started sawing through the tree.

Once the air was filled with the sound of Finn’s ax chopping again, and when Carlyle was sure that Finn could not hear them, he spoke.  “Where did you go yesterday?”

Catherine glanced up from the sawing to fix Carlyle with an annoyed look.  “What business of it is yours?”

“You left the group,” said Carlyle.  “You wandered off all by yourself.  I didn’t see you again until dinner time.  I didn’t want to ask you in front of mother and father, but…”

“There were things I wanted to see.”

“It’s dangerous to wander off by yourself like that.”

“I know these mountains as well as you do.  I can take care of myself.”

“Where did you go?” Carlyle insisted.

“That is my concern.  If I go off by myself, it is because I do not desire company.  If I do not tell you where I have gone, it is because you do not need to know.  Besides,” Catherine added, “I grow bored with you and Alfred and all the other boys and all the fighting and wrestling that you do.  I couldn’t care less about who wins which fights.”

“The other girls don’t seem to mind watching.  Besides, what else do you propose we do with our time?  If you have an activity you would like the group to do, you can feel free to--.”

“The group bores me.”

“Okay, but you can’t wander off by yourself like that.  It’s dangerous.  You could run into bears, wolves, goblins, witches, vampires--”

“The vampires can’t come out during the day,” said Catherine.

“Fine. Any of the rest then.  You remember what happened to Jack.”

“I remember.”

“Well be careful then.  I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”  Catherine looked up again.  “I mean it,” said Carlyle.  “I’m not trying to be difficult, I really--.”

“Stand clear!” Finn shouted out.  Catherine and Carlyle ran several steps to the right side of the mountain slope while a second tree fell to the left.

Finn looked with disgust at how little progress Carlyle and Catherine had made.  “We’ve got two trees on the ground,” he said.  “And you’ve barely started to saw that one.  I don’t know what you two are chatting about, but you can talk later.  Concentrate on sawing for now.”

“Yes, Father,” they both answered.

“I need to get the logs loaded in the cart before noon,” said Finn, “because it will take me all afternoon to get down to--.”  

Suddenly Finn stopped talking.  A huge brown bear was lumbering up the mountain, and had just come into view after having climbed over some rocks. At the same moment, the bear saw the humans.  The bear stood up on his hind legs and let out a loud roar.

Finn dropped his ax immediately and scrambled up the mountain to where he had left his sword.  He quickly drew the sword out of its sheath, and held it in front of him.  “We are armed,” Finn shouted at the bear.

“I wish for no trouble,” said the bear.  “I am simply returning to my home.”

“Go in peace, then,” said Finn.

The bear dropped back to four legs, and continued lumbering up the mountainside.  Finn kept the sword raised and kept his eyes on the bear until the bear disappeared out of sight.  It was probably true that the bear was simply returning home, but it was also probably true that if they were not armed, the bear might attack them out of hunger, or simply out of spite.  On the mountains, everything was a potential enemy.

Once the bear disappeared, Finn turned back to his children.  “Right, let’s not spend any more time out here than we have to. The sooner we get that cart filled, the sooner I can take off.  Get back to the sawing, and I don’t want to hear any more talking until the cart is full.”

************************************************************ Below are the images that Gemini Storybook generated for this chapter. As Gemini Storybook is AI, naturally these pictures are not 100% accurate to the story, but they are at least kind of close, and so I thought I would post them here to help convey the atmosphere of the story.