The
sounds of fighting from behind had grown fainter, but there was no
time to check whether or not I'rone had managed to kill his
attackers before the loss of his wives had made him nothing more
than a normal man facing incredible odds.
Maybe
she can still heal herself.
The
bitter wind pulled at Va'del, but couldn't disguise the sound of
footsteps behind him as he got near enough to hear the bandit
swearing at his weapon and the bulky windlass that served to ready
the crossbow for its next shot.
Just
as the teenager felt a sliver of hope that he'd make it before the
crossbow was ready, a scruffy-faced bandit appeared above the snow
drift and leveled the deadly weapon.
Va'del
tried to throw himself to the side, only to realize as the quarrel
flashed past that it wasn't aimed at him. A crashing sound
announced that I'rone had been hit, and then Va'del was upon the
bandit.
Nearly
overcome as he was by rage, it was fortunate his opponent wasn't
very skilled with a sword, or Va'del would have been killed in the
first careless exchange of blows.
Once
the bandit lay dead at his feet, Va'del dropped his weapons and ran
over to Jasmin.
Oh,
Powers, she isn't breathing. There isn't a pulse either.
Betreec
was already starting to cool, and Va'del felt his world start to
crumble as tears formed in his eyes and then coursed down his face.
"Boy,
Va'del, come here." The words were weak and full of pain, but
recognizable, and Va'del blindly started back towards the sound of
I'rone's voice.
"They're
dead, they're both dead. I'm so sorry, it was my fault. I should
have stayed where I was."
I'rone
shook his head, which started him coughing weakly. "Don't
blame yourself. Jasmin wouldn't have wanted you to think it was
your fault."
Looking
at the smooth shaft protruding from the Guadel's heaving chest,
Va'del wondered how long I'rone could last. "The gurra ran
off, and I can't carry you. Can you walk?"
I'rone
shook his head. "Go back to the village. They'll send a group
out with a litter."
Va'del
felt tears start down his face again. "No, I won't leave you."
"You
have to. There isn't any other way to get help."
##
The
trip back was a thing of nightmare. Va'del couldn't run, but he
pushed himself to the point where his legs trembled and his lungs
burned, and then tried to find the energy to go faster. Halfway
back to the village, the hint of breeze that'd been present all
morning became something strong enough to provide a solid push. It
brought a measure of relief to the teenager's tired body, but also
increased the risk he'd be pushed into a misstep that would send him
tumbling down the mountain to his death.
I
can't let that happen, I'rone is depending on me, and I can't let
him down again.
Despite
the tears still flowing down Va'del's cheeks, dropping to his coat
to freeze unnoticed, he got the feeling he was in a state of shock.
His mind struggled to protect him from feeling the full effects of
the loss he'd just experienced. Even so, the exhaustion he felt as
he stumbled the last few steps to the village entrance was as much
emotional as it was physical.
Concerned
guardsmen caught Va'del as he collapsed, and as soon as they
recognized him, a runner was sent for the village Headman. Va'del's
strength was gone, but he tried to choke out his message around
coughs before the darkness claimed him. As he heard footsteps
running down the corridor towards them, the teenager lost his battle
and slipped into unconsciousness.
The
darkness seemed petulant in its desire to hold Va'del. No matter
how the teenager tried to fight his way back to consciousness, it
seemed that a series of unexplainable forces were effectively
immobilizing him.
Only
after Va'del had exhausted himself in a futile effort to awake, did
it occur to him to wonder why it was so important he do so.
Powers,
we have to get back out there.
His
sense of urgency redoubled, Va'del finally forced his eyes open and
looked around at unfamiliar surroundings which were barely
illuminated by a partially-covered glow sphere.
The
teenager's cries for help came out sounding like nothing he'd ever
heard from a human throat. It wasn't until he thrashed weakly in an
attempt to get out of bed that he finally captured someone's
attention. Gentle but firm hands were soon restraining him.
"Hold
still, you're too weak to get up."
She
doesn't understand, I have to.
"If
you don't stop now I'll gladly put you back under. Your lungs were
burned worse than any others I've ever seen. I'm not about to go to
the effort of clearing the liquid out of them again if you overdo
it." Once Va'del stopped moving the hands disappeared and the
covering was removed from the glow sphere. "If you promise to
stay there I'll send for the Headman so you can ask your questions."
Not
trusting his voice, Va'del nodded, and then waited while the healer
disappeared behind the privacy screen. When the ancient,
white-haired woman returned, she was carrying a steel tray piled
with food and drink.
"You're
probably too weak still to manage this by yourself."
Va'del
quickly found that the healer was right. His hands were willing to
make the effort, but they shook too badly.
A
short time later a stocky man arrived. As Va'del looked over the
balding man, he realized he'd never met the Headman prior to this.
The
Headman pulled one of the low metal chairs around, and sat down
facing the healer and her patient. "I'm Headman Allen; how do
you feel?"
When
Va'del didn't respond, the Headman sighed. "I suppose that is
a foolish question for someone that has been asleep for the last two
days isn't it? We sent a group out this morning. Would have
sent one out yesterday, but the winds were too bad. Honestly I'm
not sure how you made it back with that wind howling at you the
entire way."
The
slim hope Va'del had been holding out withered away. There was no
way I'rone could have survived two full days in the cold without
help. The teenager wanted to scream and swear at the Headman, at
the healer, at the unfeeling heavens, but even in despair he knew
that it wasn't really their fault.
No,
it's entirely my fault.
##
The
cold once again tore at Va'del's skin while a slight breeze did its
best to slip abrasive snow and ice crystals through his hood to rub
his face raw. He didn't bother adjusting his hood; it was such a
small pain compared to everything else he was feeling.
The
party of villagers had returned a few cycles after the Headman had
first talked to Va'del, and it hadn't really surprised anyone that
they'd brought only corpses back with them.
The
burial in the village's mushroom medium had taken place the next
day, despite the fact that Va'del had to be carried down to take the
place of the Guadel's family. At the end of the ceremony, Ja'mi,
the healer, had slipped Va'del two leather pouches that had proved
to contain a variety of gemstones, some of which had given off soft
light.
As
he'd clutched Betreec's yellow sapphire, Va'del had been struck that
it was the only legacy the trio was leaving behind.
The
villagers had all shunned Va'del. Even the Headman had ignored the
teenager after the ceremony other than to tell him they expected a
supply train in the next few weeks, and that he'd be turned over to
whichever Guadel accompanied it.
Despite
there being no one to monitor or instruct Va'del, he'd resumed his
legal studies as soon as Sleepy and Hungry had appeared at the
village with their packs still full.
The
return of the gurra had one last benefit; packed away among Sleepy's
bags had been the tiny knife Va'del had secreted in his sling, and
carried for so long before that. The knife was once again the
teen's constant companion, and he'd taken some comfort in the knowledge
that he had a way out.
By
the time the caravan arrived, Va'del had been back on his feet and
practicing his weapons skills for two weeks. The villagers had left
food and water near the guest rooms each day, but always in such a
manner as to convey their preference not to talk to him.
Once
the supply train and the Guadel arrived, Va'del's hope he'd be
around people who would treat him as I'rone and his wives had was
quickly shattered. Va'del's interaction with the caravan had been
so limited that an entire week had passed before he realized he only
knew one person's name.
He'd
spent enough time eavesdropping to learn a couple of other names
since, but none of the rest of the party had ever acknowledged his
existence.
They all just
expect me to catch on as to what needs done, and then more or less
pretend I don't exist.
Va'del
found himself stroking the lump underneath his bulky clothing that
represented his tiny knife as he remembered the handful of
conversations he'd had with Pa'tric after they were on the road. He
might have protested his treatment but for the fact that he knew he
deserved it. He'd practically killed I'rone, Betreec and Jasmin
with his own hands.
The
camp the night before had been the worst. Va'del had once again
found himself nudged off to one side, away from everyone else. When
he'd begun practicing his sword forms, Pa'tric had come over to
watch for several minutes before shrugging, disinterest plain on his
handsome face. "I'm not going to stop you child, you may as
well keep going. There is always a chance that they won't...well,
there is always a chance."
Somehow,
until that moment, Va'del hadn't really considered that he might not
get a chance to pursue his education as a Guadel, that they might
not give him an opportunity to atone for what he'd done.
Sleepy
paused for a moment, sniffing the wind with anticipation, and then
started forward with such eagerness that Va'del was nearly pushed
off his feet.
A
few more steps revealed the reason that the gurra was so excited. A
combination of wind and unnaturally warm air had scoured the snow
away from the gray rock of a mostly natural tunnel.
We're
here.
Va'del
had half expected the Capital to be different than Bitter Rocks or
Screaming Wind, but the entryway was nothing more than the same
rough tunnels he'd known his entire life. Generations of foot
traffic had worn lines into the stone, but other than that he could
have been in any other village.
Va'del
followed the rest of the group through the near darkness towards the
musky scent of gurra. Once they reached the stables, he unpacked
Sleepy and Hungry while the rest of the group ignored him. A pair
of boys roughly the same age as Va'del, appeared as soon as the two
gurra were unpacked and led them away with promises they'd be rubbed
down and fed.
Looking
up from the heavy packs, Va'del found that Pa'tric and the others
had already disappeared, replaced by a pair of grim-faced guardsmen
who looked unsure as to his exact status.
The
older-looking guard stepped forward and cleared his throat,
nervously watching Va'del's hands. "We're to see you to your
assigned quarters if you're ready to go."
What
would you do if I simply refused to go? Bundle me up and carry me?
I don't suppose that I deserve any better.
Va'del nodded and shouldered the entire load of baggage. It was
obvious neither of the guards was going to offer assistance.
The
walk down the dimly-lit corridors of the Capital towards his room
was every bit as bad as Va'del's fears from before he'd left home.
The trio didn't pass very many people, but the ones they did pass
all stopped and stared until they were well out of sight.
For
all its walls were a darker shade of gray he found incredibly
depressing, Va'del's room didn't have the look of a prison cell.
Still, he only heard one set of footsteps depart, so one of the
guardsmen had stayed to stand guard.
Sighing,
Va'del tried to ignore his empty stomach. Instead he walked over to
the tiny glow sphere and used one of the nearby cloth coverings to
mute the light down to a level where he could still see, but where
colors started to lose their distinctiveness.
That
is why he was looking at my hands in the stables. It was just
bright enough for him to see that my skin was the wrong color. One
more mark against me. Legacy of a dead lowlander mother.
After
so many weeks of packing and unpacking his gear, it no longer took
Va'del very long to put his few things in a semblance of order.
After just a quarter cycle, he found himself looking at the
remaining packs and wondering what to do with Jasmin's things.
I
suppose someone will come take them away, and then I won't have
anything left to remember her by.
Before
Va'del could sink further into depression, he heard a loud clap just
past the privacy turn.
The
pair who walked into the room at Va'del's invitation were obviously
married, and just as obviously Guadel in a manner that went beyond
the paired weapons at the man's waist or his sheer size.
Va'del
found himself backing up slightly without meaning to. It wasn't that
either of his visitors was overtly threatening, but something in
their carriage seemed to demand respect. The man was nearly as
hulking as I'rone; he towered over the woman who looked old and
frail enough to be blown away by a strong wind. Despite their
differences, Va'del was struck by how similar they looked.
It goes past their white hair and wrinkled skin, it is almost like
a similarity in purpose.
The
man moved with the grace of a snow leopard and an air of command,
but he was polite. "May we sit?"