Authors: Usman Ijaz
Adrian listened, waiting for more, and when he
realized that his uncle was done talking he looked up and saw the other man
wiping tears away from his eyes. Adrian felt the warm trail of tears upon his
own cheeks, and wiped them away. What his uncle had told him gave him more
insight into what the dreams showed him, but it also made them that much worse.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“You’ve never told any of us that before,”
Connor said quietly. “Why?”
“It’s not something that one can easily explain
to his children,” said Jon, “but I hope you’re old enough now to understand
it.”
Connor’s eyes darted to Adrian, and Adrian was
stunned by the anger they suddenly held. “
You
. All because of you.”
“Connor--” began Jon, and was cut off.
“If not for you, she would be alive!” cried
Connor, his face contorted in anguish. “She left to save
your
mother and
died as well!”
Adrian could only look at his cousin in hurt
wonder. In all the time that they had known one another, since they had been
little children, they had never shouted at one another like this.
“Calm down, Connor!” shouted Jon. “It happened a
long time ago, and it’s not Adrian’s fault!”
“It’s all been his fault!” shouted Connor,
crying in harsh sobs. He rushed out the door.
Jon stood up and began to pace back and forth,
running a hand through his brown hair. “Forgive him, Adrian, he’s simply
overcome by anger.”
“I ... I know,” replied Adrian, remembering the
accusation in Connor’s eyes.
“I’ll go speak with him,” said his uncle and
left.
Adrian looked at the food, and thought there had
never been a time when he’d felt less like eating. He put the tray aside and
methodically packed the rest of his clothing. He then lay down on his bed and
closed his eyes for a few moments, wishing that he could shut away his thoughts
as easily.
He fell asleep, and for the first time in what
felt like forever, did not dream.
1
Adrian awoke at the crack of dawn from his
uncle’s gentle shaking. Morning was only a hint across the sky outside. Jon
watched him silently for a few moments, and Adrian expected him to say
something, but at last he turned and left in silent misery. Adrian went to the
washbasin on slow feet, not feeling any hurry to put his life behind him, and
washed his face. He went to the bed and picked up clothes he had lain the
previous night and dressed at a lethargic pace. Once dressed, he grabbed his
bag and headed for the door. He stopped in the doorway and turned to look at
the room. It already had the feel of something long deserted, or something that
he had given away. He looked to his empty bed, and thought he should have at
least made it up one last time. Connor’s bed was empty as well, he saw; it
looked as though he had slept somewhere else.
Adrian carried his haversack and blanket rolls
with him and walked out of the room, realizing that it was likely the last time
he would ever see it again.
In spite of the time, Nina was awake, and she
had eggs and porridge ready for him along with milk. Adrian didn’t feel much
like eating, but he ate nonetheless, for Nina’s sake. When he was done he
exited to the stables. He stopped inside the door, surprised to find Connor
saddling one of the horses. Behind Connor the three Legionnaires tended to
their own mounts, doing last minute checkups.
Uncle Jon came out and stood beside him. “Connor
...” Adrian began, puzzled.
“He plans on going with you as well,” said Jon,
his voice grave and his face haggard. “He’ll have it no other way. I’d strap
him down if I thought it would do any good, but he says that he will follow
after you even then.”
“But why?”
Jon shook his head sadly. “I think he wants to
know what his mother died for. He’s younger than Anne and Bertha, and he
doesn’t have any memories of her, which hurts him all the more.”
Jon led him to Wind and helped him saddle the
horse and tie his pack and blanket rolls on the back. “You can take Wind. I
know you like her, and she likes you as well.”
“Thank you,” Adrian said, looking towards
Connor. His cousin wore a stern expression, one that Adrian had never seen on
him before. As his father had said, he didn’t look easy to deter. Adrian walked
over to the other boy. “You don’t need to do this, Connor. I know you think
this will be an adventure, but it won’t be. It’s simply something I have to do.
You should stay here.” But for all the response Connor gave him, he might as
well not have existed. Adrian went back to his own horse, feeling as though
everything around him was crumbling to pieces, and he standing in the middle
could do nothing but watch.
The three Legionnaires were soon ready. They had
cast aside their worn-out garments, and were dressed as though they meant to
travel. Hamar wore a dusky-gray coat that came down to his hips over a faded
blue shirt. Owain wore a wide-brimmed hat on his head and a long brown coat
that came nearly to his knees. Alexis’s head was bare and his hair fell freely
around his face and to his shoulders. He wore a black coat similar to Owain's
over a black shirt. As Adrian watched them he caught the steel glint of Owain’s
right gun beneath his coat. Hamar moved towards them. “We must go.”
Anne and Bertha stepped out from the kitchens,
followed by Nina, joining Jon in the stables. Adrian looked at them and saw the
worry in their eyes. Jon stepped forward, and spoke solemnly to each of them.
“Good luck, boys. Watch out for one another. Come back to us.” He shook their
hands, surprising Adrian since he had not been expecting it, and hugged them
fiercely.
Adrian looked at Connor, and for a moment their
eyes locked. In Connor’s eyes Adrian saw the same reluctance that he thought
must be in his own. It was hard to leave, he realized, even harder to say
goodbye.
Anne and Bertha came next, and Adrian
immediately felt sure that they meant to rush past him and go to Connor.
Instead, they both hugged him fiercely, and though he could feel their
reluctance, unsure of what he might be, he loved them for it. “Come back home,
Adrian,” Bertha said. “Take care of yourself,” Anne told him. They hugged their
brother in the same fashion, and gave him the same message. When they stepped
back, they were wiping tears from their eyes.
Nina came last, and she was already in tears.
She handed Adrian a small package wrapped in a white kerchief that radiated
heat. “I baked you two some apple tarts,” she said, and tried to smile. The
boys couldn’t help but respond to her smile.
“Thank you, Nina,” Adrian said.
The head cook moved back to the rest of the
party and Adrian and Connor were left alone. On one side awaited the
Legionnaires, on the other side stood their family.
And are we not family?
Adrian wondered, looking at them.
Even if everything else comes between us,
in the end are we not still family?
As he and Connor turned around Adrian could feel
the onset of tears. He wiped the back of one hand across his eyes, trying to
forestall them. They mounted their horses, and looked at the small party that
watched them with somber faces. The boys smiled wanly, and then turned their
horses and followed the Legionnaires out of the stables.
2
They hadn’t gone fifty feet down the street
before Adrian turned around in his saddle to look back at the Golden Lilly. He
could still see the small party in the stables, and he waved half-heartedly at
them; one of the forms returned the wave. He saw that Connor also kept turning
around and looking back. Then they turned a corner and the inn was lost from
view.
They rode through the city silently. Alexis fell
back and rode beside them, while the other two Legionnaires led them all. In
the early hours of the morning the town appeared sleeping; alive, but as if
awaiting its occupants to return from some grand ball. The small party rode to
the Great Road leading east. As they joined the Great Road, leaving the city
behind them, Adrian couldn’t help but feel as though they had stepped from one
world and into another. Certainly everything looked the same as it always had,
but it was the only way he could express how he felt.
They rode in silence, and the land slowly gave
way to plowed fields that receded to plains on both sides of the road and then
to farms. On the farms people were already up and about, tending to livestock
and beginning their chores. The party rode on, and soon the farms grew sparse,
and then there were only empty grasslands rolling off to their left and right.
Overhead the sun was still rising, casting aside the dull grayness of dawn.
“Where are we going?” Connor asked.
Adrian watched Hamar and Owain ahead, awaiting
an answer. “East,” Hamar said at last.
“How far east?” Connor asked.
Hamar’s answer was blunt. “A long way. You’ll
see when we get there.”
As the sun rose the world awoke as well and
merchants and farmers driving their wagons soon shared the road with them. Some
went racing by them going the opposite direction, while others traveled at a
leisurely pace, much as they did. Adrian lost all track of the time and how
many hours they spent in the saddle, he only knew that by the time Hamar let
them stop he was tired and the sun sat high in the sky. They stopped on the
side of the road and lunched.
The Legionnaires had restocked their supplies.
They shared hard bread among themselves, washing it down with water from their
waterskins. Adrian and Connor were offered the same, but after one bite of the
tough bread they both declined. Adrian took out the apple tarts that Nina had
baked and took one for himself, he offered the other to Connor, but Connor
never even so much as looked at him.
“Here,” Adrian said, handing the tart to Alexis.
“He won’t accept it from me, but maybe he’ll take it from you.”
Alexis offered Connor the tart, and Connor took
it grudgingly. Alexis shook his head. “What’s gotten into you two? You were the
best of friends yesterday, and now you won’t even as much as look at one
another.”
“Leave it alone, boy,” Owain said from his place
across from them. “Let them deal with it on their own.”
Connor and Adrian were sitting near one another,
but neither one had spoken to the other since leaving the Golden Lilly. Adrian
began to wonder if they would ever say a word to one another, and if they did
what would be the point of it? He looked around at the large tree beneath which
they had stopped, at the rolling land on the other side of the road, and
wondered if they would be sleeping by the side of the road tonight.
“Can I see one your guns?” Connor asked Alexis
suddenly.
Alexis studied Connor’s face for several long
moments. He pulled out one of his guns from beneath his coat and handed it to
him. Hamar and Owain watched disapprovingly. Adrian looked at the gun in
Connor’s hand, and couldn’t help but think it looked magnificent, certainly
better than he had pictured in all the tales he had heard. It was a large,
heavy revolver, the metal a bright silver, with a thick barrel and a large
chamber. On the handles were iron plates, designed to ease the users grip, and
carved onto the plates was the flying eagle of Grandal. The gun caught and
reflected the sunlight, and the two boys were held by its deadly beauty.
After a few moments Connor handed the gun back,
never allowing his fingers to go anywhere near the trigger. Alexis took it and
slipped it back into the holster at his waist. Adrian saw the twin of that gun
on his other side.
“Do all Legionnaires have guns like that?”
Connor asked.
“Yes,” Alexis said, biting into his hard bread.
“Is it hard to use?”
“Not once you learn how to use it,” answered
Alexis.
They were soon on the move again, crossing miles
yet seeming to stay in the same region. They passed through several little
towns during the afternoon, and always the Legionnaires made sure that their
guns were concealed beneath their coats. They seemed ready to reach for them at
a moment’s notice, however. It was not uncommon to see a man with guns, but
even bad guns were costly and only the wealthy could afford them, thus many of
the commoners wore swords at their waists. Guns drew too much attention and
such men were remembered in people’s minds, Alexis explained..
It wasn’t until the sun was setting that Hamar
let them stop. They were in a small town, with most of the buildings
constructed of wood and the streets of hard-packed dirt. They took up rooms at
an inn. Hamar and Owain shared one room, and the rest were forced to share the
other.
They ate dinner in the common room, listening to
a woman playing a bittern while another danced atop a table. The maids that
came to serve them smiled among themselves as they glanced at Alexis, who
seemed oblivious of everything until Owain threw up his hands in disgust.
“These girls will fall for any fool with long
hair,” he cried. “And the idiot doesn’t even notice them.”