The Wretched

by Brad Carsten

  Elder Malumn, like everyone else knew where the flies were coming from.

  As he spoke, the ash from the nearby houses was blowing past him. It was a terrible sight.

  “We also need to fix the latch on the gate,” Master Lowold said. “Perhaps we can put a gate behind it to brace it. We can look at that tomorrow. Right now, we have to make sure that nothing else can get through tonight.” He was on his haunches, propping himself up with his giant hammer. Liam hadn't seen him looking so tired and so old. All the men around them seemed to have aged twenty years.

  Liam joined a line passing pails of water from the river to the houses. Most that caught alight were beyond saving, but the villagers had to keep the fire from spreading. Those that were too far gone were just being left to burn.

  A commotion drew Liam’s attention to where Master Tarplewold was pushing through the crowd, carrying the still body of his wife in his arms. Her neck had been sliced open, and she had bled out into her dress. She was as difficult as her husband, but she didn't deserve that.

  He was trailed by an angry mob of people.

  “You did this,” he shouted at Liam. “It was your doing. I saw you sneaking that witch in last night—carrying her on that horse of yours like a queen. You did this. You brought this on our village.” His voice trembled.

  Liam was taken aback. He didn’t think anyone had seen them, and now to be called out on it... He didn’t know what to say.

  “I uh—I’m as devastated by what happened tonight as anyone else here, but didn’t you just see what happened? She saved us. She killed all of those things. If not for her we’d all be dead.”

  “If not for her, those things would never have come here in the first place. She brought them. You brought them on us!”

  Light failing, Liam didn't know if that was true, but the timing was beyond a coincidence. Each word was like a blade through his heart.

  Tarplewold tried to push his wife's body into Liam’s arms, and some of the men took her from him.

  Master Tolsby laid a hand on his shoulder to lead him away, but he wrenched free and pointed a shaking finger at Liam. “She's dead because you brought that witch into the village. You did this. You did this to all of us.”

  “Is it true?” someone said.

  “Liam, what have you done?” someone else said. The words burned into him, burned through him.

  Liam didn't know what to say. He didn't know where to look, certainly not at the accusing faces of any of the people around him.

  “Okay, just wait a tick.” Master Blithe, the innkeeper said, coming to stand alongside Liam. “Before we start throwing around all kinds of accusations, we have no proof that she had anything to do with this. This village has been under siege for a long time, as has every other village from here to Norindale. What happened tonight was terrible, but it was nobody’s fault.”

  “Shut it,” Tarplewold screamed. A vein began throbbing in his temple. “You had her in the inn. You were entertaining the evil one himself, so don't you come preaching to us. You are just as much a part of this as he is. You are just as much to blame.”

  His anger bubbled over and he lashed out. Master Blithe was a large man but Tarplewold knocked him to the ground, and didn't stop there. He kept hitting and hitting.

  Liam shoved Tarplewold back, and then fear and anger and guilt rushed through him and he swung, knocking the man back into the assembled villagers. Tarplewold's sons swelled up like bullfrogs, and advanced on Liam, who skittered back, his fists raised. He would take them both down if he needed to, but just then Madam Gorrick screamed, and everything ground to a halt.

  “Enough,” she shouted. Her hands were still covered in her husband's blood. “Can't you see what's happened here. Don't any of you care?”

  Liam dropped his fists, suddenly feeling even worse. “I'm sorry. You're right. I’m—I’m sorry. We need to get these fires out...” He scooped up the bucket again, but she shook her head vehemently. “Just go.”

  Liam blinked back at her in surprise, and she repeated her words more forcefully this time. “Just go. Just get out!”

  A group had helped Tarplewold to his feet, and he pushed them aside angrily and started back at Liam like an angry bull. “Yeah. You leave this village, and you take that witch whore with you, you hear me!” He spat the words out as the blood bubbled out his nose.

  The wretched pushed to her feet, her eyes suddenly alert. Madam Blithe sensed the danger, and again placed a trembling hand on the Wretched's shoulder. She muttered something and began to lead the woman towards the massive gate.

  At the same time, Elder Malumn tried to calm everyone down, but Tarplewold was out of control.

  “You too? You would stand up for him? You would take their side when your own people have been ravished?” He began pacing up and down swinging his arms like he didn't know what to do with them. He kicked a pail into the side of one of the burned-out houses.

  Elder Malumn looked at him sternly as though addressing an unruly child, and Tarplewold snapped. He snatched up a cudgel from Master Hartfeld and ran at the Elder. “Get out, get out, get out,” he screamed over and over until he was red in the face. “Go to your witch whore, you traitor. Go be with her if that’s whose side you’ll take.”

  “You are out of line, Tarplewold. No one’s taking anyone's side, but you need to calm yourself. You need to take your things and go back to your house, before I get the men to carry you there. I will not have you bringing any more blood on this village tonight.”

  Anger and humiliation bubbled up inside of Tarplewold, and he swung.

  With a dull thud, Elder Malumn's head snapped back, and he crumpled to the floor.

  Woman screamed and some of the men rushed to pull Tarplewold off of him. It took two of them to wrench the cudgel out of his hands, but it was too late. Elder Malumn wasn't moving. Master Hartfeld checked his breathing. He pressed two trembling fingers to his neck, and his face paled. “What did you do, Man,” he said. “What did you do?”

  “He had it coming,” Tarplewold screamed. “He brought this on us. He brought this on us all.”

  “Let him go,” Tarplewold's son shouted. “We have to do what we have to do.” Others from Tarplewold's mob shouted their agreement. They forced the men off of Tarplewold and helped him to his feet like a cursed hero.

  For a moment, Tarplewold’s eyes strayed to Elder Malumn, with a look of uncertainty, but then his lips tightened, and he puffed out his chest stubbornly. “All of you that was involved are going to get what's coming. Tonight, we’ll string you up. We’re coming for all of you. All of you and that witch whore too.” He spat after her.

  The villagers had stepped away from Madam Blithe and the wretched, allowing them through, but they soon built up their courage and began to jeer at her—first those who had lost loved ones and then the others. “Go,” Master Ballow shouted. “Get out our village.”

  “You ain't welcome here!” Someone else shouted.

  “Take your witchery and don't you ever come back.”

  “Witch whore,” Tarplewold screamed. “You witch whore.”

  Tarplewold's men began nocking arrows, but they were smart enough to keep them down. For now.

  This was getting out of hand. Arrows could take her down, Liam had seen it for himself, but before they could do anything, she'd take many more with her, and Liam wouldn’t have any more blood on his hands. He had to do something, and quickly. He threw up his hands and ran between the archers and the wretched.

  “Just wait. Just hold on. I'll go. I'll take her out the village and I'll leave with her. I'll get the things from my place, and we'll go.”

  Looking around at the faces, he realised that this had been a long time coming. Ever since Tarla died, he had drifted further from everyone around him, and he was ready to pack it all up and go. Still, this was the only life he knew, and most of his gold was tied up here, and there was still a lot of good he could do after the attack if they’d accept any help from him
now.

  Quinn backed up after him, with his spear held firmly in both hands. He was ready to fight if it came to that.

  Master Blithe pushed through the people to meet them.

  “Liam, you don't have to do that, Son. There are some tempers over what happened, but it ain't no one's fault.” But the people were looking for someone to lynch, and they weren't going to back down now.

  Madam Blithe shouted for the people to go back into the village. She threw her arms around Liam, and her eyes teared up. “Just know that not everyone puts this on you. You're a good man, and you did the right thing, you hear me? No one can say for sure why those things attacked us, but even if it was as they say, no one could have predicted that. No one. You did the honorable thing by bringing her back.”

  “Thank you,” Liam said. But he wondered what she would be saying if she had lost her husband. Then again, she had lost friends today. They all had.

  Master Blithe fetched a wagon for Liam, and Tarplewold and the others crowded around it, screaming for them to go. Others were now taking up the cry. Liam could feel the hatred directed towards him, as though he was a wretched.

  As Master Blithe moved through the gate they flooded the entrance, shouting at him. Someone threw a jar at the wagon, and Master Browning kicked it.

  Master Fubner, his father’s old friend, spat at them.

  The innkeeper helped get the wretched into the back. She hung onto him without much strength of her own, and that made Liam very nervous. The villagers were coming out the gate, growing in anger and boldness. Quinn kept his spear up, and Liam held his bow ready, although, he wouldn't use it against anyone there.

  “What are you going to do? Where will you go?” Master Blithe asked, as Liam backed off towards the front of the wagon.

  “I haven't thought that far ahead. I'll be fine, but I’m worried about you and yours. You need to take care of yourselves. I brought her to your inn, and the Tarplewolds are likely to turn this on you after this.”

  “Tarplewold is a fool. I'll keep him in his place. I’ve certainly done it for long enough in the council meetings.” His eyes slid over to Quinn. “What about you? What are you going to do?”

  “If Liam’s not welcome in the village, then neither am I.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” Liam said. “You've got family here. You need to take care of them.” Liam swung up into the driver's seat, keeping his eyes on the villagers.

  “My family's fine. They weren't attacked tonight. But now the best thing I can do is get away from them before they're brought into this as well.” He looked like he too wanted to sick up. “It's because of me that we had to leave Brigwell and that we found her in the first place. I don't know if the wretched had anything to do with any of this, but plight Liam, do you think I'll be able to look anyone in the eye? No, I'm coming with you.”

  Master Blithe extended a hand to each of them. “Take care of yourselves, the both of you. Just give it some time to blow over, and the village will take you back. I know they will.”

  Liam wasn't so sure.

  “Just look after yourself,” he said to Master Blithe, who nodded gravely. And as Liam left the gate, and the giant water wheel, creaking as it had for centuries, he wondered if he'd ever see the village again.

  At the house, he moved quickly to pack what he could before the villagers lost their sense and came after him. Quinn had left everything, but he was about the same size as Liam and would fit into some of his things. Liam removed a loose floorboard under the bed and retrieved what was left of his gold.

  As they steered the old wagon down the path, with two more horses tied to the back, a new pillar of smoke rose over the village, and Liam had the uneasy feeling that the villagers had turned their anger on the inn.

  Chapter 12

  Quinn kept silent as the farm shrunk behind them. Like Liam, he must have been thinking about the life he was leaving behind and whether he'd ever see his family or the other villagers again.

  Liam didn't want to think about it. He had played this moment over in his mind so often over the years, dreaming of how it would feel and how excited he’d be, but he had never thought that it could feel like this. His insides were knotted up, and he kept thinking about Master and Madam Blithe and whether they were alright.

  Lightning played along the horizon constantly, like evil spirits dancing—laughing at them.

  They reached the Gladstone farm before the rain came. The Gladstones had an old barn at the bottom of their property that Liam, Quinn and Norris used to play in as children.

  Quinn wrenched open the old door, upsetting a layer of dust that rained down over the opening, and Liam pulled the wagon inside.

  The wretched was curled up in a ball in the back of the wagon. By her breathing, she wasn't asleep, but she didn't say anything, and Liam left her to herself.

  First, the wind picked up, rattling the door and the old creaking beams, and then the rain came hammering the barn like it was trying to get at them.

  Liam drew his hood up and yet it did little to protect him against the cold. He spent the hours until dawn drifting in and out of sleep, dreaming about the village and being lost out and alone in the rain.

  They left the wagon behind and set out again the next morning before the sun had broken free of the horizon. The sky was a deep blue-grey, and the thousands of birds, playing in the canopy of the old maples leading up to the barn, stood in stark contrast to all that had happened.

  The rain had passed, leaving puddles along the dirt track and the air outside was early morning crisp.

  No one spoke more than a few mumbled words to each other. Liam told the wretched that he’d take her to the Gablon road, and she thanked him, and then again for letting her use the horse, but she seemed uncomfortable, drawing in on herself and mostly avoided his eyes. And when she rode, she kept behind them, looking awkward, almost vulnerable, hardly the terror that he’d witnessed the previous night.

  They rode for at least an hour, until the Kandwyn Mountains were well behind them.

  The events of the previous night played over and over in Liam's mind, and when he couldn't take it anymore, he pulled off the path and waited for the wretched to catch up.

  “I have to know something. The nightspawn that attacked our village—were they there for you?” The words came out harsher than he expected, but he didn't adjust his tone. He wasn't in the mood for polite conversation.

  “Yes,” she said, simply.

  Quinn swore, and Liam shut his eyes. He suspected as much, especially after his tussle with Tarplewold, but hearing the words hit him straight in the gut. He had lost everything. He’d seen the people he'd grown up with slaughtered. At least the village was safer now that she was gone, but if those things were after her, then they'd keep coming, and next time there wouldn't be any walls to stop them.

  As much as he wanted to blame her, she had never asked to be brought back to the village, and she had saved his life in the forest, though he didn't ever want to think about that again.

  She had saved his life, and he had then brought her back to the village. He had traded his life for many others. Light failing, would he change that if he could? He had to force that thought aside.

  “Why were they after you?” His voice was surprisingly calm.

  Her eyes slid away from his, and she shook her head. “I don't know.”

  “What do you mean you don't know?” Liam snapped. “You must have some idea why they were after you! Those things just attacked my village. The least you can do is be straight with me.”

  Still no answer.

  “Okay, so what were you doing all the way out here then? You were heading somewhere I assume?”

  “I was looking for someone in your village, a man named John Talbot.” her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, and her eyes were heavy, like she was bone-tired.

  Quinn and Liam exchanged looks. What did she want his father for?

  “I was on my way to speak to
him. It was very important.”

  “You wouldn't have found him there,” Liam said. “He passed away over three years ago.”

  The woman shut her eyes, and her whole body deflated. “Then I guess my journey was too late.

  I—I didn't want any of that to happen. I never... You seemed so nice, and I'm not used to people being nice to me, and I couldn’t let that thing kill you.” She drew a handful of gold coins from her purse and pressed them into Liam's palm. “That's for the horse and—that’s everything I’ve got. I’m so, so sorry. I'll just... I'm sorry.” With a flick of the reins, she took off up the path.”

  Liam looked at the gold in his hand and back up at her, in two minds about letting her go.

  “He was my father,” Liam shouted, before he had time to think it through. Besides, she had overpaid him. It took a few seconds for her to stop.

  “John Talbot was my father,” he repeated when he reached her. “And no horse is worth this much. There are only two of us. We don’t need three horses.”

  He tried to give her back the coins, but she pushed his hand away. “You lost everything because of me. The least I can do is pay for my horse. And, anything above is... well, please just keep it.”

  “Well, you did save my life the other night, so...” He had spent the last ten years hating the wretched with everything inside of him, and didn't trust them at all, but she was proving quite difficult to hate, and he hated that even more.

  “You said John was your father?”

  Liam nodded.

  “Was he also... Was it the creatures that...”

  “No, it was the mountains. It was the thing he loved the most that ended up killing him.”

  “I'm sorry,” she said, but Liam thought she looked relieved. Being killed by the nightspawn was a worse way to go.

  Remembering his father, and the last few days of his life, choked Liam up, and he quickly pressed on before his countenance changed.

  “What did you want him for? Perhaps I could nudge you in the right direction.”