by D. E. Morris
Vala eventually opened her eyes but was having a hard time breathing. She was lethargic and lay still with a moist cloth over her nose and mouth to help ease the burning in her throat and chest, but Badru was certain she would live.
Once it began to sink in exactly what had happened, curiosity turned to panic, and in some, hysteria. Many hurried to their temporary homes to pack, wanting to sail away or ride out of the village as quickly as possible. No matter how many times Tasarin tried to speak peace and calm to anyone that would listen, most were afraid and desperate to be as far away from the danger as possible. This sent Cailin and Killian, as well as Fintan and others in charge of household security, scrambling to get as many accounts of the situation as possible. There was no way to keep so many people in such a large place, especially when they were as terrified as they were, but information needed to be collected.
“I don't know what happened,” Niam told Killian when the older man got around to questioning him. “I was close enough to where it happened to have been knocked back a few feet. Blew my kilt up, that's for certain. Good thing I'm not shy. I got up as soon as I realized what had happened and ran toward the explosion.”
Killian nodded, his expression giving away nothing. “Without a thought for your own safety?”
“I'm impulsive. I act first and think later. Sometimes I think later. Most times I just see what needs doing and do it.” Glancing behind him, Niam looked to where Mairead sat resting against the wall of one of the structures still standing. A moist cloth was draped over her mouth and her right leg and arm were wrapped in bandages. A blanket was draped over the rest of her for modesty, and her eyes were closed. “She had to have been pretty close to the explosions given her burns.” Niam returned his attention to Killian, his black brows coming together. “She's got scars on the other side of her face, too, but they look old. Could magic do that?”
Instead of responding, Killian sidestepped Niam to move closer to Mairead. “Lady Mairead, may I speak with you?”
“I wouldn't do that,” Niam advised. “Whoever put that cloth on her mouth told her not to speak. Something about irritating her lungs.”
Mairead's eyes opened slowly, her head sluggish as it turned. She looked up at Killian and nodded to him, prompting him to move closer and crouch beside her. “I will do my best to ask you questions that you can answer with a nod or a shake of your head. Were you in the market when the explosions went off?”
She nodded and let out a great sigh. Her eyes closed for a moment and it seemed as though that was all she had the energy for, but soon enough, her undamaged arm worked its way out of the blanket to reach up and remove the cloth from her face. “I was with Vala,” she told Killian, her quiet voice ragged and choked as though she had been screaming for too long. “She went farther back into the market and I stayed where I was...somewhere in the middle, I believe.” She paused to take a breath, but the breath turned into a cough that had her whimpering in pain. Quick, Niam dipped a wooden ladle into a bucket of water that many were taking from. He brought it to Mairead and crouched on the other side of her, helping her to sit up. As she leaned forward to drink, he held her steady with a strong hand to her back, but a scowl was spared for Killian.
“I told you she's not supposed to talk.”
Killian gave the younger man an assessing once over as he helped Mairead lean back up against the wall. “You look to be a strong and capable man. Perhaps you would feel more useful aiding the others as they help the injured.”
Niam's eyes narrowed. “Isn't that what I'm doing now? High Queen Ashlynn had me bring her lady here, which I did. I stayed with her while she was looked over by Princess Kenayde and some elf. I watched them wrap her up and put that cloth over her face, saying that her breathing in the moisture would help soothe the inflammation in her throat and lungs. They told me that speaking too much would cause her more damage. Your flattery isn't going to distract me enough to send me away so you can talk to her. If all I do for the rest of the day is stay here and protect her from you bothering her, I'm okay with that.”
“It is all right,” Mairead promised in a whisper. She kept trying to open her eyes but it seemed like an impossible task. “There was a girl...she was young, long black hair. Takashirin or Shihouzen, I believe.” Mairead paused and put the cloth back over her mouth to breathe for a minute, coughing while Niam glared at an unaffected Killian. When she felt better and removed the cloth, she swallowed with great difficulty. “She gave certain vendors a small purple flower from a basket she carried. Before she disappeared, she dropped something in the middle of the street.”
“Was that what exploded first?” Niam asked.
Mairead slowly shook her head. “I do not know. I remember very little after that.”
“Da!”
Killian immediately sprang to his feet, his head turning in the direction from which Rowan's panicked voice had come. He caught sight of her wild hair first, spirals of it fallen loose from her ribbons. She was alone, running and bumping into people and things, panic in her every movement as she held her hands out in front of her to try to keep herself on her feet. Hurrying forward, he wove through huddled groups of people, taking Rowan's hands in his own when he could reach her. “Da!” she cried, knowing his hands better than anyone else's. “Where's Ashlynn?”
“She is safe.”
“I have to get to her. Right now!”
Turning back toward Niam and Mairead, Killian put his fingers to his lips and gave a sharp whistle. He needed no clarification, knowing the look of urgency when he saw it. Whatever Rowan needed Ashlynn for didn't matter, only that he helped her get to her queen. Whistling once more finally got Niam to look in his direction. Killian waved him over, prompting Niam to his feet to jog their way. With no explanation, Killian took one of Rowan's hands and wrapped her fingers around Niam's arm. “I need you to take my daughter to the high queen. Hurry now, but take care. She is blind and will need you to be her eyes.”
“But the lady...”
“I will find someone trustworthy to stay with her. You are not abandoning your duties,” Killian promised, “they are simply shifting. Go now.”
Niam gave a reluctant look back at Mairead, but soon clenched his jaw in determination. He pressed a hand over Rowan's in a careful, protective manner. “Ready?” Rowan nodded and wrapped her other hand around his arm. Together, they hastened through the crowds of people all milling together. Men and women were searching for children who were missing, spouses and loved ones calling out the names of those in their party that had not yet been accounted for. A woman grabbed at Niam as they passed, sobbing, asking him if he'd seen her husband, but there was no good answer he could give her. The one simple act seemed to invite the attention of others who were searching. More people moved forward to ask Niam for his help, enough so that he almost had to walk sideways, his free arm out as a barrier to keep Rowan from getting knocked into.
“What's happening?” she asked him, her voice quavering.
“It's okay,” he promised. “Just stay close. We're almost there.”
He could see the guard line up ahead. The closer they made it, the thicker the crowd became. All the pleas for help, the threats and the demands on the armored men and women to find missing people were turned on Rowan and Niam. “Let us through!” he called to the guards.
“No one else passes,” the older man barked with a deep Caedian accent.
“We will pass,” growled Rowan in reply. “I am one of the Sinessian high queen's ladies and her foster daughter, not to mention a kindred Elemental to your own high queen. If you do not let me and my escort through, I will see you thrown in the most disease infested cell in all of the Celtique Nations.”
“Lady Rowan,” said a Sinessian voice. She turned her head as though she could see who spoke. “This way.” Another guard stepped aside, allowing Niam and Rowan to pass through while trying to hold off anyone else from following after them.
“Where are we?” she asked N
iam.
“In the market. Only safe people are here...I think.” She gave him no warning before yelling at the top of her lungs for Ashlynn. It didn't take long for both Jaryn and Ashlynn to appear in the street just a little way ahead.
“They're right in front of us.” Before Niam could even get the full sentence out, Rowan let go of him and launched herself forward. The couple embraced her as though she was their own missing daughter when they were close enough.
“Are you all right, heartling?” asked Ashlynn.
Jaryn found a scrape on her cheek and frowned. “You're hurt.”
“I fell earlier, before I found my da. It's fine. Luella's in labor.”
“What?” Ashlynn blinked and jerked back as though she'd been slapped.
“She heard what happened here and was on her way over when the pains started. Tasarin and a bunch of women are with her, but I thought you would want to know.”
“So that's why we haven't seen him,” Jaryn muttered. “Is she all right?”
“When I left, everything sounded like it was going fine. I don't know much about birthing babies, but there's usually a lot of commotion, right?”
“Right,” Ashlynn echoed with a dim smile. She wrung her hands together. “I want to go to her but I'm sure the women with her know much more about what they're doing than I would. I wasn't even conscious for Lochlainn's birth.
“She'll understand,” Jaryn promised.
Ashlynn finally spotted Niam and waved him over.
“I'm sorry,” he said, approaching at a jog. “I stayed with your lady until your Captain of Guard told me to bring his daughter to you.”
“You did fine,” Ashlynn assured. “Is Mairead well?”
“She will be, but not for a few weeks. I'll get back to her now.”
“Wait,” Jaryn commanded thoughtfully. “Do you have any medical knowledge?”
Niam shook his head with a regretful frown. “No, Your Majesty.” Glancing past Jaryn, he saw Cavalon hefting a giant wooden beam off of a stall that had fallen in on itself. “I'm strong, though. No brains, all brute.”
“Right, then. Go help Cavalon.”
Niam bowed and hurried away, leaving the other three to stand close together and take in everything around them. Before too long, Rowan covered her ears with her hands and buried her face in Jaryn's chest. “I can't take the sounds of all the people who are looking for those who might not even be alive anymore.”
“I know,” Jaryn empathized with a sigh. He ran a hand over her back in an effort to soothe her. “Come on. I'll bring you to Kenayde and Badru. I know they could use your help.”
The day was growing long by the time things were organized and settling down. Fintan arranged stations in various spots all around the village for people to come and leave names and basic descriptions of lost loved ones. Runners went back and forth to see if the information given matched any of the wounded being cared for. Most often, a tearful reunion was the best outcome to be hoped for, but there were far too many times when the sad news had to be given that whoever was being searched for had been killed in the blasts or passed away from injuries.
Many left the village in droves, taking horses and carriages back to their own dwellings in Caedia or heading for port towns to find the fastest ship back to their home country. Only that morning the place had been filled with laughter, a shared jovial spirit among everyone from the youngest children to the oldest, most grizzled competitor. Now, at least half the people were gone or well on their way out. It was impressive to see how many not of Caedia stayed to be of help, and how many Caedians stayed out of loyalty to Tasarin and Luella. Together, they all worked to go through each and every structure that had been destroyed to make sure there was no one dead or dying among the rubble.
Vala was much better off than Mairead by the time a few hours had passed. She was fully conscious and had a nasty bump on her head, but she barely even had a cough and was quick to help where she could, taking breaks when needed. Several people, Badru and Kenayde included, made batches of a salve in which clean linen strips were treated. These would be wound around burns and abrasions for cooling and healing. Mairead's own wounds were redressed after a Volar woman, a surgeon, meticulously pulled the lace from her skin, piece by piece. Once she was wrapped up once again, Niam took it upon himself to carry her back to the royal house. Rowan and Lilia tagged behind him to make sure she was put into a comfortable bed to rest.
While Lilia went to find something for Mairead to eat and check on the status of Luella's delivery, Rowan and Niam set pillows behind Mairead and blankets where she could reach them, should the night turn chilly. He promised to check on her again later before leaving the two women alone. “I like him,” Rowan confessed, opening the shutters to allow in fresh air. “He's one of the few who kept his head about him when everything was so chaotic.”
Mairead said nothing, only turned her head on her pillow, facing away from where Rowan stood.
“Jaryn said that they found fifteen people who died in the initial blast. Seven more have already passed from injuries that couldn't be healed, and it sounded like they expected to see quite a few more breathe their last during the night.” The setting sun fell on Rowan's face, making her pale green eyes squint as she took in the warmth. “I don't understand elvish magic, or Nuala's healing abilities for that matter. Can't they just wave their hand over a wound and heal it? Why can't they do the same thing for injuries on the inside of a person?”
Behind her, Mairead sniffled. It was an unmistakable sound that made Rowan turn, her thin brows coming together. “Mairead? Are you okay?”
“Please go, Rowan.”
The younger woman tilted her head. “What?”
“Please...I just need some time alone.”
Out of all four of Ashlynn's favorite ladies, Mairead was always the most stoic, the strongest among them. Despite knowing her for almost six years, there wasn't a single instance Rowan could recall hearing the older girl cry. It twisted something within her, making her automatically feel as though she, too, could shed tears. For as brash and abrasive as she could be, she'd always been sensitive to the emotions of those she cared for, and Mairead was like an older sister to her. Her instinct was to crawl into bed beside her and hold her hand as she cried, but ultimately, Rowan only nodded and made her way back across the room, walking stick in hand. She opened the door and slipped out without another word.
When there was little else to be done for the wounded back at the market, Badru stole away to walk the area of the blasts by himself. They were losing daylight quickly, and he had yet to have a good look at what was left. As far as he could tell, no one had truly examined the places in which the explosions went off. Everyone worked to check buildings, to help the injured and dying, and gather as much information as they could from anyone who might have seen something. It was no wonder that time could not be spared to explore the scene fully.
He walked alone, slow in his gait as he approached the stall from which he'd only so recently purchased products with Wessely. The merchant had been kind and helpful, and now lay on a cot among the victims, prepared to breathe his last. There was glass and splintered wood everywhere, oils soaked into the dusty earth. A ring lay among the debris, half covered and dusty golden in the setting sun. Badru crouched to pick it up, knowing the man would like to have it. He wondered if the merchant's wife was there or if she would have the sad news delivered to her of his passing in the days to come. As Badru stood, he saw the exact spot in which the man must have been standing when the explosion went off. It looked like a bloom in the ground; there was a small area where nothing had been disturbed, grass and sand ripped up and blown outward from the mark in a radial pattern.
Moving on through the wreckage, it was easy to spot some of the other places where blasts had occurred. Some had been stepped over and walked through, but there were distinct divots in the ground and a charring to give them away that was not found anywhere else. Drawing up to the main poi
nt of destruction, he bent to examine the wide hole that had been blown into the earth. He looked back toward the other detonation sites, remaining in his crouched position. Each place that had been chosen was a different distance from the main spot, and on all sides. Where the marble Mairead spoke of had been dropped, the street crossed with another road, making it possible to go one of four ways. This exact location had been chosen for a specific purpose, that much was clear. Certainly it hadn't been for the most fatalities. All the culprit had to do was wait for the last joust to begin. Explosions in the gathered crowd there would achieve a higher body count. Why here, then. and what was the correlation between the smaller explosion sites?
Cailin and Killian approached Badru side by side, both of them wondering what he was doing and wanting to help. As he explained his thought process on the matter, the two of them worked with him to test out different theories. Nothing made sense. It was possible that the attacks were personal, that whoever decided to set off the explosions had grudges to settle, but that still didn't account for the main site. Eventually, Cailin began pulling people in to stand where the smaller sites lay in ruin. In doing as much, they found that there were six main areas that encircled the larger.
Watching Killian and Badru working together to try to judge the distance between the places where people stood, Cailin worked on her own theories. One in particular turned her stomach, but the more she mulled it over, the more likely it became. From the middle of the blast zone, she couldn't see where everyone stood, but it wasn't hard to guess the direction and distance from person to person if she could orient herself correctly.
