Dawn came at last. An orange light stretched above the blue hilltops on the horizon. The wind cleared the sky of the last clouds while the stars faded away. The layer of ice on the bushes sparkled around them. Snow fleas appeared out of nowhere and sprinkled the white coat like jumping peppercorns. His horse snorted. Selen patted the beast. It was as exhausted as he was. The path the Child followed dropped down into a valley. Shielded from the wind, Selen felt the blessing rays of the sun. His hand holding the reins was covered with frostbite. He shouldn’t complain. He wore furs. Something Louis must miss bitterly.
They reached a meadow. A low stone wall crept up in the middle. Once he got to it, Ahanu raised his hand.
“The mounts need a rest.”
“As do the riders,” Kilda mumbled.
They dismounted. Selen unfastened the bag with their provisions and dragged himself up onto the stone wall next to Louis. He stretched his legs and gazed at the frozen hilltops around. It was good to rest a while.
“Nous n’irons plus au bois, les lauriers sont coupés…” Louis sang low a sweet melody at his side. His friend shivered.
“We can exchange our coats,” Selen said. “I can stand cold for a while.”
“This is kind of you, but I have to suffer for my foolishness,” Louis answered with a lopsided smile. He patted his hand and lowered his head. “Your hand.” Louis took off his mittens and proceeded in slipping them on Selen’s hands. Selen raised his hand in refusal.
“I have mine in my bag. I waited for a break to take them out.”
“You should have asked for a halt. You’re bleeding.” Louis took Selen’s hand in his and rubbed it gently to warm it up.
“Could you pass the food around?” Lissandro complained.
“Yes, of course,” Selen said. He opened his bag and picked out a dry sausage, a cheese, and a large loaf of bread on which the crust had already dried. They passed the food around, each taking his share with his knife. Selen tugged long. The food had to last until they reach Earthfell. The Broud Gorges stretched on for miles, and they didn’t follow a path anymore. Selen searched in his bag for their wineskin. It wasn’t there. Though it should have been with the food, he walked back to his horse and checked his other bags. No wineskin was to be found. Selen returned to his companions.
“Did any of you take the wineskin from my bag?” Selen asked.
His companions exchanged puzzled looks. “Did you lose our wine?” Eliot asked.
“I didn’t lose it. I had packed it. Someone took it,” Selen objected. And I am sure it’s one of you.
“Why would anyone do that?” Folc asked.
“Does it mean we have nothing to drink?” Kilda asked, panicked.
“It’s all right,” Louis said. “We will probably find a mountain stream. They are usually clean. We only need to boil the water in something. The most important thing is that we find a shelter before the night, which we could also find following a stream.”
“I can help you find one,” Ahanu said.
“Thank you.” Louis got up and walked away.
“Where are you going?” Folc asked.
“To the woods. I need to pee,” Louis answered, a bit ill at ease.
“We should all stay close,” Folc said. “You don’t need to go to the woods for that.”
“I’m not going to do it in front of a lady,” Louis objected, startled.
“I don’t mind,” Kilda said.
Louis’s face changed at once, as if Kilda had said the most horrendous thing.
“But I do,” Louis said. “Considering how you let yourself go, I have given up expecting that you behave like a respectable woman. Yet, you could at least pretend you are one and show some decency.”
His friend’s words bewildered Selen. He had no idea Louis had built such a resentment against Kilda. She had a peculiar behavior for a woman, but she had never opposed them. He looked at her. Instead of the tears Selen had expected, Kilda scowled with anger.
She jumped up. “What did you say?”
“You heard me well,” Louis insisted, the twitch of his mouth marking his revulsion. “There is barely a difference between you and our pursuers. You speak like a rogue and dress like one, not even mentioning your hair.” He jerked his hand up before pointing at her. “The war is over, and you have a status. I accepted you with us to please Josselin, but your place is at home, not on the road.”
“At home like a matron?” Kilda strode towards Louis and stopped close enough to look down at him.
She tries to use her physique to humiliate him, Selen thought. He wanted to interpose but knew it wouldn’t help Louis.
“At home with your husband! It’s pathetic, it’s immoral to leave a spouse,” Louis snarled, looking daggers at her. “Separation is an outrage to virtue. You broke your oath. I despise your kind.”
“My private life is none of your business,” Kilda hissed. “But you must have an opinion on everything, don’t you? You are as arrogant as you look.”
Their companions rose. Apprehensive, Ahanu glanced at Lissandro, who still sat and observed the scene with calm. Folc’s face was creased, and his freckled nose twitched. Eliot and Askjell stepped slowly to the side in support of Kilda and displayed the glimpse of a rictus. Turncoats in search of a new leader, Selen thought. He would remember that. Louis glowered at Kilda with rage. His hand closed into a fist.
“Come on. Hit me now. I know you want to.” Kilda said, holding his gaze. “It’s true. I’ve shared our pursuers’ life. So, you don’t scare me.”
Selen knew Louis would never hit a woman. Still, there was a limit of insults he could take, and someone would have to pay. Besides, though Louis shouldn’t have said such things in the first place, Selen agreed with his friend, and her last words had irritated him. He made a few steps towards them.
“You shouldn’t speak to him that way, Kilda. It’s mean and false,” Selen said.
“Did your shadow say something?” Kilda said towards Louis.
Selen stood, stunned. “Excuse me? I have a mind of my own.”
Kilda turned around. “Oh? Surprise me. Say something clever you didn’t suck out of him.” She cocked her head towards Louis. “You’re weak. Should he spit in your face, you would still come back crawling.”
The scathing words hurt Selen deeply. How can you tell me that? In front of him, Louis stomached the blow.
“You will regret these words,” Louis uttered. His arm twitched.
No, Louis, Selen thought and made a step forwards.
“It’s enough!” Folc exclaimed. “They are your king and queen. How dare you?”
“If you plan to show your superior intelligence by killing each other, these bandits will have a good laugh once they will reach this place,” Lissandro said.
Louis’s heinous look stayed on Kilda before he turned away and strode to the woods.
“Our enemies are still after us. I’ll follow him in case he falls into a trap,” Folc said, hurrying on Louis’s heels.
“Or into a coma. It would give us holidays,” Lissandro mumbled. “Kilda, come here.”
Selen threw an angry glance at him. “You’re mean. All of you.” He hurried after Folc.
Folc stopped at the edge of the woods. “I’ll wait here. Selen, is it just the three of us now?”
“I hope not. Or we will never make it.”
Selen walked into the woods. He found Louis pacing with his hands on his head. Careful not to surprise him, Selen touched his shoulder. “What is wrong? Kilda shouldn’t—”
With his hand, Louis brushed the words to the side. “I don’t care about Kilda. She is a woman, she is weak.” Louis cast him a glance. “I’m tired of their dissolute behavior. Not a single one of them attach importance to our task.”
“I am sure they care,” Selen said softly. “They just enjoy the small pleasures of life and complain like people who have spent too much time in the comfort of a house. Askjell exaggerated, but what is wrong with having a good meal
or sharing jokes?”
Louis turned to him. “How can they joke while people die all around? How can they fill themselves with food while the people of our city probably eat the last rats and cats? I don’t say they should fast or be abstinent, but at least show moderation and respect.”
“I see what you mean, but I am also to blame.” Selen bit his lip. “I want to taste food when I smell it. I like my warm clothes. I laugh at their jokes.” He lowered his head. “I wanted you last night.”
Louis cupped his cheek. “I know. And I feel the same,” he whispered, gazing into his eyes. Louis looked down. “However, I am ashamed of myself sometimes. In all those pleasurable moments, I forget about our people. I can’t. I’m their king. I showed more strength before,” he sighed. “At least, when alone.”
Selen decided to ignore the last word. “You shouldn’t,” he whispered. Louis stared at him again. “There is nothing wrong with such feelings. They don’t corrupt your heart. It means you are human. If you were cold as you wished, you wouldn’t be capable of compassion.” Selen laid his hand on Louis’s chest. “To feel is a virtue.” Louis gave a faint smile. Selen went to walk away, but Louis held him back.
“No one can talk to you that way,” Louis said sternly.
Selen flickered a smile. “I’ll see if the others calmed down. We need to leave.” He went away.
Selen passed in front of Folc and crossed the meadow. Lissandro was still in conversation with Kilda. Still offended, Selen hesitated to join them, but someone would have to pick up the pieces, and it took white-hot pincers to pull out excuses from Louis. Kilda glanced at him but shifted her gaze.
“Can we carry on?” Lissandro asked.
“Will you?” Selen asked, looking at them.
“Of course. It’s not as if we had a choice,” she muttered.
“There is always a choice,” Selen said. “The choice to leave. For the sake of your ego, because you can’t cope with his temperament. Or the choice to stay. Not for him, but for what he stands for. For the people still counting on us. For the children still alive.” He stepped closer. “Do you want them to die too?”
Kilda looked at him. “He was never yours,” she snapped, bitter. She walked away to her horse.
I know, Selen thought with pain in his heart. I will never have what you had. So why do you hate me for it?
Louis and Folc returned. Selen couldn’t hear what Louis was saying, but Folc nodded in silence.
“We should leave,” Lissandro said. His face was a mix of irritation and weariness.
Selen made it back to his horse, his soul heavy with the mess their group had become again. Despite the insults, he refused to blame it on any of them. Yet, in the deepest of himself, he suspected that under the battle of egos, someone was pushing pawns. Between the unresolved murders and the wineskins, someone created the sparks to this chaos. If pushed to exasperation, Louis, Lissandro, and Kilda might hurt each other, and it would be over with their quest.
“Behold,” Folc exclaimed, pointing at the hills where they came from.
Selen swiveled. Twelve black dots rode down the slope. Colten’s band was not done with them. The rest would probably follow once they learned of their direction. Selen and his companions kicked their mounts and progressed eastwards.
It didn’t take long for Ahanu to find a stream. Between half-hidden rocks and bent trees whose heavy branches often blocked the way, they followed the bank, never straying far from the gurgling water. The firs grew scarcer. The sun shone always brighter between the naked treetops. They left the woods for the bottom of the valley. The stream met a confluent and turned into a river that Selen judged to be the Broud. Selen spotted animal trails on the shore. Here, it was the light paw of a mouse. There, stretched the heavy steps of a herd. He looked at the black-and-white hills on each side but found no trace of habitation. His gaze fell on a pole a bit further ahead. He trotted towards it. The ground was flat and even. Names stood on the sides of the pole.
“It’s a road,” he exclaimed.
His companions joined him. Lissandro unfolded the map. “Twenty miles to Greenmount. It would put us here.”
“Can we outrun the bandits on the road or should we cut through the forest?” Kilda asked.
“If we take the forest, we may not make it before the night,” Selen said.
“If we don’t outrun them, it will be twelve against eight,” Kilda said. “They are seasoned soldiers, and they don’t need all of us.”
As they pondered in silence, Selen heard a song. “Is it me or someone is chanting?”
“It’s not a song. It’s a hymn,” Lissandro said, looking around.
From around the path, a group of men appeared. Selen didn’t notice at once that they were half-naked. Their torsos were covered in blood. Some wore black hoods over their head. Above their heads, they whirled multitailed whips they slashed against their skins with such a violence that, with each blow, droplets of blood squirted on the white snow. Every second blow fell on the men in front. They dragged themselves at the rhythm of the litany they sang. In the middle of the procession stood a person in a white dress soiled with red stains. Judging the height, it could be a woman or a young boy.
“Who are they?” Selen asked, staring at the morbid sight.
“Flagellants,” Lissandro said. “They mortify their flesh to redeem their faults and the world’s sins. You can’t see it, but their whips have nails. This is why the blood is so abundant. They tend to proselytize, but this group seems relatively small. I don’t know for the person in the middle.”
“It’s a sacrifice,” Folc said. “I heard about it. When the situation is exceptional, to share their suffering with a person with a pure soul intensify their prayers.”
“I will give them a reason to intensify their prayers,” Louis said, pulling out his sword. “I don’t want those madmen preaching around in Trevalden. They are a danger to anyone.”
“They are unarmed. Just to mention,” Lissandro said.
“Don’t they claim something like faith is my weapon?” Louis said.
“It’s my faith is my sword,” Eliot said. “If Your Majesty plans to rid the world of these heretics, know that the Church bless your arm.”
Louis shivered with disgust and made a face.
“The Church always takes the fun out of everything,” Lissandro mumbled. He unsheathed his sword and kicked his horse. “Yee-haw!”
While Lissandro and Louis galloped towards the procession, the rest of their group watched the events with attention. Neither Louis nor Lissandro reined in. Selen squinted his eyes when their swords hit the first flagellants.
“They don’t even run away,” Folc complained. “Some even seem to thank the sky.”
“If I spent my days ripping off my flesh with sharp, metal sticks, I too would welcome a sword,” Askjell said.
“I see one who tries to escape there, at the rear,” Ahanu pointed out. He winced. “I didn’t know horses were that heavy.”
“Lissandro is not exactly delicate,” Askjell said. “Neither is Louis, but the precision of his blows is improving. It should be a question of seconds now.”
“I think we can move forwards,” Selen said as the last mutilated body collapsed on the ground.
They rode towards the person who had stood in the middle. The girl cringed with her hands over her head. Her white dress had turned deep crimson. Her head had been shaved, and blood still trickled from the many cuts on her scalp.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she peeped.
“We meant to deliver you,” Lissandro said.
Selen got off his horse and helped her to her feet. “You are free to return home,” he said with kindness.
“But these men should have taken me to the priory to cleanse Trevalden of the people’s sins. Now, the plague won’t be stopped,” the girl said.
“See our intervention as a sign of the gods,” Lissandro said.
“I don’t think the gods approved,” Selen said,
calling his friends attention to the dark, ominous clouds over them. “We will soon need a shelter.”
“I can lead you to my village,” the girl said, her gaze low.
“That would be very kind of you,” Selen said. “Folc, can you take her on your mount?”
Folc nodded and stretched out his hand towards the girl. She had bare feet and had difficulties moving. It wouldn’t be surprising if her dress hid wounds. She needed medical attention. Selen held her arm and led her to Folc. They lifted her up onto the horse’s back. She didn’t weigh more than a child. Selen returned to his horse and mounted.
“Should we follow the road?” Folc asked.
“There is a path on the other side of the river which leads to my village,” the girl said.
“It may be too late.” Eliot’s face was struck by fear.
The riders from Colten’s gang emerged from out of the forest. Once they saw them, they charged in their direction, swords forward.
“Show me the way,” Folc said to the girl.
They kicked their mounts into a gallop along the road before reining right across the river. Their horses’ hooves clattered against the pebbles in loud splashes of water. On the opposite shore, a path rose on the slope through tangled bushes. It was steep, tortuous, and waterlogged in some potholes. The large trees on the side indicated the presence of hidden roots. Selen prayed that, this time, his mount wouldn’t break a leg. He glanced back and saw the bandits cross the river. Always higher, they rode towards the unknown, while their pursuers followed them close on their heels. Above, big, white boulders hid the path from his sight. They needed to flee, but if they led the bandits straight to the village, innocents would die.
“Faster!” Lissandro shouted at the rear.
The climbing turned easier as the path opened on a flat clearing. Stone walls emerged from the snowy ground. Selen looked around him. A half-crumbled tower rose on his right. Its higher stones, covered with ice, sparkled against the greyness of the sky. They had reached the ruins of an old castle. In the middle of what once had been a courtyard, Louis and Folc, who galloped at the head, reined in and jumped off their horses. While the girl took their mounts away, his two friends drew their swords. Selen pulled hard on the reins. Louis hurried towards him.
Light from Aphelion 2 - Tears of Winter Page 29
