I fed Chapter 8: Brian Returns Alone into Google Gemini Storybook.  Here is the resulting storybook, and here is the link to the original chat.

Chapter 4: Catherine, Carlyle and Alfred Go Out (Revised)

Google: docs, pub

[This is a revision of this earlier post and contains some revisions inspired by the Gemini Storybook version.]

Chapter 4: Catherine, Carlyle and Alfred Go Out

“Don’t go too far,” Margaret warned them. “Stay within yelling distance of the house.  And remember, if you see any goblins, come home at once.”

“We promise to stay close to the house,” Carlyle said, to reassure his mother.

As they walked along the rugged slope, the world felt vast and empty. Trees were sparse this high up.  There were a few of them, here and there, but mostly the trees were replaced by tufts of grass and endless grey rocks. Alfred and Carlyle began a game, picking up small stones and hurling them into the distance to see whose could fly the farthest. Catherine watched them, her arms crossed, and her expression showing a look of bemused disdain.

The mountaintop that they lived on was actually just one peak on a whole range of mountains.  On both their left and right sides, the mountain range extended on as far as the eye could see.  And if they would have been on the other side of the slope, they would have had a view of yet more peaks and troughs in the mountain range.  But from where they were now, they had a spectacular view of the forest below them.  

The view from the mountain was always spectacular.  Down below, they could see the great forest, with all its endless trees, and rivers, and lakes, all laid out beneath them.  Even though they had grown up with this view, and were accustomed to it, there was something about that vast expanse of forest that always intrigued them.  They couldn’t help but wonder what was hidden beneath the canopy of trees.

After throwing his last rock, Carlyle sat down on the mountain slope with a sigh.  “I wish I could go down into the forest.  Just once. Just so I could see what it’s like.” He turned his head to look at Alfred and Catherine.  “Have you ever thought about one day just sneaking down to the forest?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” asked Catherine.

“You know,” said Carlyle,  “One day we tell mother and father that we’re going to meet our friends, but really we head down to the forest.”

Catherine laughed.   “Use your head!” she said.  “We’d never be able to sneak down to the forest without them knowing.  Father says it takes two days just to get down the mountain.  We couldn’t get there in an afternoon.”

Carlyle sighed.  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said.  “It was a silly idea.”  Carlyle turned to look at Alfred.  “Have you ever been to the forest?” he asked.

“A couple of times,” said Alfred, sitting down next to Carlyle.  “I’ve been with my father to help get supplies.  Catherine’s right, it takes about two days to get down the mountain.”

“What about all the monsters on the mountain?” Catherine asked.  

“Yeah, you have to be careful,” Alfred said.  “That’s why my father always carries his sword with him whenever he travels up and down the mountain.”

“But what about at night?” asked Catherine.  “You have to sleep somewhere?”

“There’s a path going down the mountain,” Alfred said.  “It’s used by anyone who needs to go up or down.  And so over time people have made little rest stations along the way.  There are a couple small caves halfway down the mountain that have been turned into small forts.  There are big heavy stones piled up at the entrance.  They’re too big to move by yourself, but with a couple people, you can move them a bit, and then once you get into the cave, you put them back.  And then you can sleep in the cave.  You have to keep your weapons next to you when you sleep, of course, but that’s the same everywhere on the mountain.”

“What about the forest?” asked Carlyle.  “Is the forest dangerous?”

“I’m not sure,” said Aflred.  “I know my father doesn’t like going down into the forest unless he has to.  And then when he does, he doesn’t like to stay long.  He always acts really nervous when he’s in the forest, and whenever anyone comes near, he covers up his face. I don’t know if the forest is dangerous for everyone, but it seems to be dangerous for my father.”

“What do you think he’s afraid of?” asked Carlyle.

“I don’t know,” said Alfred.  “But I remember something Lucas told me once.  Lucas said that because it’s really dangerous up here in the mountains, nobody lives up here by choice.  He said only fugitives live here in the mountains.”

“Fugitives?” 

“Yeah, you know, murderers, thieves, traitors--anyone who did something terrible in the forest, and had to run away.  Because the mountains are so dangerous, the forest people never come up here.  So it’s the perfect place to hide away.  Lucas said his father killed a man in the forest, and that’s why they have to live up here in the mountains.”

“Really?” said Carlyle, leaning closer.  Catherine also perked up her ears.

“Well, that’s what he said,” Alfred replied.  They were quiet for a few seconds, and then Alfred spoke again.  “I wonder if my father killed a man,” he said idly.  “I think he must have.  I don’t think he was a thief.  If he was a thief, he’d just join up with one of those robber gangs that live up here in the mountains.”

“There are a lot of robbers up here,” Carlyle said.

“Yeah, well they have to live up here,” Alfred explained.  “They go down to the forest to do their stealing, but then they come back up here so that the forest people won’t chase them.”

“I wonder what my father did,” said Carlyle.  “I can’t imagine him killing anyone.”

“Well,” said Alfred slowly, “your parents are very old, aren’t they?  They’re older than anyone else up here in the mountains.”

“So?”

“So maybe your father killed someone when he was very young, and he’s been hiding up here ever since.  People can change a lot in 50 years, you know.  Sure, he’s just a harmless old man now, but maybe he was a vicious killer when he was young.”

“He’s not so harmless, even now,” said Catherine.  “He knows how to fight.”

“I guess he must,” admitted Alfred.  “You would have to know how to fight to live up here, what with all the thieves and animals and monsters.  That’s why it’s important to practice every day.”  Alfred looked back at Catherine as if he suddenly remembered something.  “Hey, Catherine, where did you go yesterday?” he asked.

“I already asked her,” said Carlyle.

“None of your concern,” said Catherine sharply.  

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

“I already told her,” said Carlyle.

“And you missed all the fighting matches.  You missed me beating Kevin.”

“The fighting bores me,” said Catherine.

“That’s just because girls don’t know how to fight,” said Alfred.

Catherine became indignant.  “That’s not true,” she said.  “I live in these mountains the same as you.  I’ve had to fight off the werewolves and the goblins the same as everyone else.”

“That’s different,” said Alfred. “It’s not the same as fighting another human.  When you fight humans, you have to learn how to punch and block and dodge and attack and--.”

Catherine rolled her eyes.  “Oh, please, Alfred!  I’ve seen you fight before.  You don’t have any technique.  You just come in swinging.  There’s no difference between fighting you and fighting a goblin.”

Alfred immediately went red in the face.  He opened his mouth to respond, but then thought better of whatever he was going to say and closed his mouth again.  “You don’t understand because you’re a girl,” said Alfred, and he turned his head away from Catherine and went back to looking out at the forest below.

“I could beat you in a fight,” Catherine answered.

“You could not,” said Alfred, not even turning around to look at Catherine.

“If you’re scared, then…” Catherine’s voice trailed off, and she gave a small shrug.

There was a pause, and then Alfred began to stand up.  “Alright,” he said.  “Let’s do this.”

Alfred was one year younger and about a head smaller than Catherine.  But what he lacked in height, he made up in strength.  He was too young to cultivate bulging muscles, but his constant fighting and wrestling had given him strong sinewy arms.

Catherine regarded him coolly.  She pushed her brown hair casually behind her ears as she waited for Alfred to get to his feet.

“If I win,” Alfred said, “You have to admit that you don’t know anything about how to fight.”

“Agreed,” Catherine answered.  “And if I win, you and Carlyle are not allowed to talk about fighting for the rest of the time you’re staying with us.  Honestly, the nonsense you two talk bores me to tears.”

“It’s a deal,” said Alfred.  He raised his fists and slowly approached Catherine.

“Careful Alfred,” Carlyle said sternly.  “Don’t hurt my sister.”

“I’m not going to hurt her.  This is just going to be a friendly little fight.”

“No punching in the face,” Carlyle insisted.

“I wasn’t going to,” said Alfred.

Catherine smirked.  “Don’t worry about me, Carlyle.  You should be more worried about Alfred.”

There was something about the smirk on Catherine’s face that infuriated Alfred.  He lunged at her, but Catherine was too quick for him.  Catherine grabbed his arms before he could grab her, and then using his own momentum against him, she gave him a sudden tug towards her.  Alfred’s feet stumbled as he his body was being pulled forward, and once Catherine had him off balance, she hurled him down towards the ground.  Alfred landed with a thud on the rocky mountain slope.

Alfred got to his feet slowly. His knees and palms were bloodied from the impact with the rocks.  Catherine looked over at Carlyle smugly.

Carlyle sighed.  “Catherine, don’t hurt him anymore than you have to,” he said wearily.

“I won’t,” Catherine cooed.  “Come on, Alfred.  Ready to try again?”

“That wasn’t fair,” Alfred exclaimed. “You just waited until I made the first move, and then you pulled me off balance.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Catherine.  “I’m just a girl. I don’t understand the rules.  What rules do you boys usually play by?”

Alfred ignored the question.  “Let’s try again,” he said.

Alfred slowly circled Catherine.  He made several feints to try to take Catherine off of her guard, but she was never deceived.  Each time he tried to trick her by pretending he was going to swing or lunge forward, she just widened her green eyes with amusement and smiled at him.  But the more Catherine smiled, the angrier Alfred got.

“Come on!” Alfred called out in frustration.  “Don’t just stand there and wait for me.  Make a move!”

No sooner had Alfred spoke then Catherine’s hand shot out and she hit him in the chest with the heel of her palm.  Alfred fell onto his butt, partly from the force of the blow and partly from the surprise.  He rubbed his chest at the point where Catherine had hit him.  “That wasn’t fair,” he said.  “I wasn’t ready.  I was busy talking to you.”

“Oh dear,” said Catherine, although her face didn’t look at all concerned.  “Oh, I’m so sorry.  I really don’t understand the rules at all. I thought you had finished talking.”

Alfred ignored the comment.  He got to his feet once more.  “You’ve tricked me twice, but now I’m ready for you,” he said.

Catherine simply smiled in response.

Alfred eyed Catherine cautiously, trying to decide whether she was going to attack or not.  When Catherine didn’t make any move to attack, Alfred stepped forward and swung at her with his right hand.  The swing was wild, and not only was Catherine easily able to move back and avoid it, but Catherine noticed that Alfred had left his right side open.  She moved in quickly and hit him in the ribs.  Alfred grimaced, but he didn’t fall over this time.  Instead he grabbed hold of Catherine’s forearms.  Catherine tried to pull back to free herself, but Alfred just tightened his grip.  Catherine twisted her arms, and Alfred momentarily lost his grip, but before she could back away, Alfred’s hands immediately shot out and grabbed her again. This time he latched on to her upper arms.  They grappled for a while as Alfred tried to throw Catherine to the ground.  Catherine grabbed onto his upper arms partly to balance herself and partly to try to push back.  Alfred was strong--stronger than Catherine was, and now that they were locked in each other’s grip, it seemed like he might succeed in pushing her over.  Catherine squeezed her hands and tried as hard as she could to push Alfred back.

And then, suddenly, Alfred was screaming.  It wasn’t a triumphant scream, it was a high-pitched scream of shock and fear.  Alfred was no longer trying to push Catherine, but now he was pulling backwards, desperately trying to free himself from her grip.  Catherine, confused about what was going on, froze up and simply stared at Alfred.  She didn’t even think to release her grip.  But when Alfred’s legs gave way beneath him and he started to collapse onto the ground, Catherine came to her senses and let go.

Carlyle dashed over.  It was obvious to him that something had gone wrong, but at first he didn’t know who to help.  Catherine was standing up and Alfred was kneeling down on the ground, but they both looked equally shocked.  “What happened?” asked Carlyle.  And then he saw it.  Alfred’s sleeves had been destroyed right at the spot where Catherine had been gripping his arms, and it was possible to see his skin underneath.  And his skin was warped and raw and red.  

“Catherine, what did you do?” asked Carlyle.

“I--I don’t know,” Catherine stammered.  “I didn’t mean to.”

Carlyle turned to Alfred.  “Are you okay?” he asked.

“My arms hurt,” Alfred wailed.  

“Alfred, I’m so sorry,” Catherine blurted out.  “I didn’t mean to.”

“It hurts,” Alfred said again.  He had tears in his eyes from the pain, which he ordinarily would have tried to hide, but at the moment he was too distracted to care about.

Catherine’s face was white with horror.  She stood there just staring at Alfred, not believing what had just happened.  She then opened up her hands, and looked at her own palms in disbelief.

It was up to Carlyle, then, to try to take command of the situation.  “Mother will know what to do,” he said.  “Let’s get back to the house.  Alfred, can you stand up?”

“It hurts,” Alfred said again.

“I know,” said Carlyle soothingly.  “Can you walk?  We need to get you back to the house.  My mother can help you.”

Alfed was quiet for a few seconds, and then he nodded his head.  He stood up quietly without moving his arms.  

“It’s alright,” said Carlyle.  “My mother will know what to do.”

Alfred and Carlyle started walking towards the house.  Catherine stayed where she was, not moving, until Carlyle called out after her.  “Catherine, come on.  You can’t stay out here alone.”  Catherine then snapped out of her trance and started following them back home.

************************************************

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 7: The Age of the Gods into Google Gemini Storybook.  Here is the resulting storybook, and here is the link to the original chat.

Chapter 3: Finn Departs (Revised)

Google: docs, pub

[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.