Hiram's Secret

Excerpt:
Hiram climbed into the back of Old Lysen’s mule cart planning to make a new start for himself by leaving the village of Pig’s End behind. He plotted to ride along past the rift and through the forbidden portal. Lysen always went the same way, and Hiram watched the cart drive on through with no trouble at all every three months even though no one in his village dared to try. He shoveled himself beneath the pile of cured hides. Settled in, he pushed some aside so he could peek out at what he would soon abandon.

As always, the clouded sky and mist from the nearby Gordian Forest combined to make a grim, hopeless scene. Worn mudhouses, crooked and in need of repair after the last rain, would not be missed by him. Failing pig fences awaited his father’s mending. A shadow of guilt crossed over his heart for abandoning him, but he set his hopes on the prospect of a new village, the possibility of being taken as a furrier’s apprentice, and maybe even finding a bride. It would be better to leave behind the mischief of his youth and set out on this new adventure.

Old Lysen hobbled out of the house, his thin, gray beard bouncing on his lanky chest. He tossed three goat pelts on the cart with a huff and bypassed Hiram’s hiding place, none too wise of his added cargo. The trader grumbled before he eased his crooked body into the seat, weighing the cart in a slight way. A whip cracked. The ancient mule brayed. Wheels turned and Hiram grinned, his escape underway.

The young women in Pig’s End tended to marry outside the rundown village or worse, they looked too much like their fathers. Hiram licked his lips and dreamed of a beautiful maiden waiting for him beyond the rim and the portal—a maiden with rounded hips, a waist he could grasp, and breasts ripe for his plundering.

The cart bumped over ruts in the road, and Lysen didn’t make any more stops. The acrid stench of the burning fields on the rim soon became a memory. Hiram peeked out when they passed through the portal, its murky haze always a mystery to him until this moment. Fear tingled in his fingers. Childhood stories about the portal and what lay beyond had him on edge. “Anything is better than Pig’s End,” he said, assuring himself. The haze passed through his body, waking his senses, alighting nerves and causing an embarrassing feeling of arousal. He felt alive and vigorous, as if anything were possible.

The cart passed on. The road smoothed out. The burst of energy pulsed in his body. He pushed his way out further, the better to see what the other side of the portal looked like.