by William Cali
She raised her voice, projecting confidence and authority: “Now is not the time for long speeches, now is the time to begin rebuilding our home and our way of life. I know you are battered. I know you feel beaten. We lost many friends, many members of our family, here today. We are still standing. We are still alive. We will rebuild. After the horrors we’ve seen, we have proven that we can survive!”
The crowd cheered her. It was heartfelt but mired in exhaustion. She looked at Pent now. “We’ve gone through much, and you’ve stood by our side from the beginning. I was not sure what to think of you when you first arrived, but you’ve proven yourself to be a hero. You’ve helped end the scourge of a great evil plaguing this world. We will always be indebted to you.”
* * *
The days following the great battle of Somerville were fast paced and packed with activity. The rebuilding process began immediately. The fevered faces were fading away, replaced with bright expressions filled with hope.
On the first day, Hanar returned with the children. Eyes filled with tears as parents and children were reunited, and tears were also shed for the children whose parents did not survive the battle. Chief Lyle, speaking to those children upon their return, had said, “Since the time of our village’s founding, we’ve never seen such a tragedy for the families here. As long as I live, you will always have a home here in Somerville.”
Lyle talked with Faldo and Pent and came to a controversial decision. The Somerville graveyard, a long-standing landmark in the village, was to be abolished. Yozer had created a terror in the hearts of the villagers with his necromancy, a fear that no one ever wanted to relive, nor could they forget. The graves, those still containing the dead, were dug up, and a funeral pyre was erected. The bodies burned for the length of the entire day as villagers came and paid their respects and last tributes to the fallen.
They burned Yozer’s corpse as well, and there was much rejoicing. Pent was sure he imagined it, but, when Chief Lyle touched the torch to the pale corpse, he saw a wispy mass of smoke leave the sorcerer’s body.
He asked Hanar if he saw the same thing. “All I see is a burning monster. The fruit of all of your struggles and efforts.” He patted Pent on the shoulder. “It’s over my friend, he’s gone.” Pent shook his head. Must have been my imagination.
* * *
Cenk had jumped back into his work immediately. Making use of the recovered equipment from the fallen warriors, he set to making an arsenal. Most of the villagers thought he was up to his normal habits, but the truth was that Cenk believed he needed to ensure what had happened to Somerville would never happen again. As he slammed his hammer onto hot steel, he muttered to himself.
“Ready. We’ll be ready.”
* * *
Lemen was honored as a hero in the battle, and the distillery was closed for some time. Chief Lyle assured those curious and thirsty villagers that she would look into finding a suitable replacement. “But for now, let’s worry about the matters at hand for the village. We can drink our sorrows away later.” The doors were shuttered, the remaining stock was taken note of, and the people of Somerville moved on.
During a quiet moment, Pent and Lyle had discussed the fallen distiller. “For an aimless drunk, he sure came through for everyone in the end.”
“He always seemed to be looking for an excuse to depart from this life,” she said. “It’s as the chief said, hopefully, he’s at peace now that he’s with his family again.”
“His family?”
“They died, his wife and daughter, many years back. Lemen used to be a bit of an adventurer.” She sighed. “They traveled to the coast one day. North of Castle Draemar and to the east. And he was the only one to come back. When Faldo made their headstones all he could pry out from Lemen was that they drowned. Ever since then, he spent every day trying to drown himself.” She walked off, leaving Pent to ponder her words.
He grabbed a mug of Lemen’s finest stock, one of the few bottles not locked away. He took a deep sip and then poured some out where Lemen had fallen in battle. “Here’s to you, man.”
* * *
Faldo was also staying busy. Few buildings had received structural damage in the battle since most of the fighting was done at the entrance to the village. He took to establishing a more permanent fortification on the edge of the town, laying out his plans right away. When speaking to him, Pent found a man possessed by a passion rekindled.
“I’m thinking we erect those two towers along with a wall or a gate. Perhaps a permanent trench and a secret entrance on the side, maybe over here,” he said, pointing to a likely section of cliff wall on his map. “Sentries up on the chasm walls. We also need some kind of method of escaping that isn’t through our front entrance. We were lucky enough this time, but if they had forced us deep into the village we would have been trapped like rats.”
“You’re really dedicated to all this. You gonna have time to build all this stuff while working on your sword technique?” Pent had meant it as a joke, but Faldo took the question in earnest.
“Pent, I’m nothing as a swordsman. I am no knight, no hero like my father and grandfather before me.”
“Come on, man, you were out there fighting with the rest of us. That takes courage. That’s all you really need.”
“No, no. That was born of necessity.” Faldo paused, eyes tracking thoughtfully over the plans he had drawn up. “I meant what I said earlier, Pent. I’m a bigger help to Somerville doing what I do best. My role is here. Anyway, I have something I want to give you.” He darted into his back room and emerged holding a familiar object. He held it out to Pent cautiously.
“Your family sword? Why are you giving me this?”
“My grandfather was the savior of this village, a true hero. You’re the true hero of Somerville, Pent, as he was. I want you to take it.”
Pent stared at the sword, and then slowly lifted it from Faldo’s fingers. He held it in his hands and studied it. The blade was chipped from combat, and the dried blood of fallen men still stained it. “Cenk is gonna need to take a look at this.” He waved it through the air slowly and turned towards Faldo. “Thank you, Faldo. Thank you. It’s an honor for you to entrust me with this.” He eased the blade into the sheath that Faldo had given him. “I’ll be sure to make your ancestors proud.”
Faldo nodded, smiling warmly. “I know you will. And if you ever need anything from me, only ask.”
“Well, now that you mention it, I did come here for something. Getting kind of tired of living in Hanar’s shack. Now that things have calmed down a little bit, I was wondering if we could get back to talking about me having my own pad.”
“Your own what?”
Pent smacked his forehead. “Just… never mind…”
* * *
To Chief Lyle, the work was steady and regular. She had her hands full attending to the needs of the village. It was a constant effort trying to bring things back to normal in Somerville. Despite all her work, she did find a moment to address Pent.
“For all it’s worth, I wanted to say something to you. Thank you.”
“Hm?” Pent mumbled, feeling awkward.
“I told you I wouldn’t say thanks unless the village was saved. It looks like we’re still standing.”
“Not without loss.”
“No, not without loss. There will always be loss, there’s no avoiding that. But I’m here and so are you. So is Hanar, and the children were all saved. I don’t believe that would have happened without you.” She crossed her arms. “I said I made my peace with dying as Gilbrand stood over me. Maybe living in tacit fear and complacency is a worse life than the one we are living now.”
“Maybe.” Pent thought on the life he had lived up to that moment. Complacency being a worse life? Ain’t that the truth. In only a few weeks, he felt like he had become a completely different person. Looks like a forced stroll in King Arthur’s court will do that to you. He smiled, despite the crazed nature of his arrival in this odd world,
and despite the horrible things he had seen. He felt relieved like he had made a step forward, regardless of the destination. “Maybe that complacency and fear is the wrong way to go. I guess we’ll find out. Together.”
“Yes, together.” Chief Lyle smiled, and Pent thought she looked happier than she had since his arrival. She carried the heavy weight of her role with purpose, and it suited her. “You’re an odd one, Pent. Huger than any man I’ve seen, skin touched by the sun, your bizarre manner of speech. Even that magical device you carry, that you promise is not magical. I’ve never met any other person like you. I doubt any other person in all of Cinraia could claim differently. But for all you’ve done, you have my sincerest thanks.” She embraced Pent for a moment and then walked briskly away. He watched as she marched off, sure that she would serve Somerville well.
Chapter Forty-One
Hanar spent tireless hours hounding Pent on how the battle was fought. Pent told the story with a mixture of bravado and foreboding. “I hope things never get that screwed up again. Yozer was one scary dude.”
“Indeed, but it seems your non-magical tool won us the day. We are safe again.”
“Yeah, now you’ve got plenty of time to show me the wonders of fishing.”
“Plenty of time!” Hanar laughed, something he’d done loudly and often since returning from the woods. “And you’ll need every bit of help you can muster. You might be a quick learner when it comes to leading villagers into battle, but you still have a lifetime of lessons in patience to learn.” Hanar clapped Pent on the back and led him towards the flowing river. Tentatively, he asked, “What of your own home, Pent? You’ve spent so much time with our affairs and problems, but none on finding a way back.”
Pent shrugged, trying to look stoic. “I wish I knew. This world has already shown me things I never thought could exist. If there’s a way back, I’m sure I’ll find it.” He bent down, picked up a rock, and threw it toward the river. It hit the water with a little splash and a satisfying plop. “It seems like y’all are stuck with me for now.”
From the river’s edge, near where the stone had splashed, a shining mist coalesced and floated toward them. Hanar pointed at it, and Pent reached for his sword.
The cloud materialized in the form of a familiar, stout figure. Gordenthorpe stood before them, out of breath, cheeks flushed a rose color. “You almost hit me,” he said, puffing. Pent peered down at him, mouth open, but it was Hanar who spoke first.
“Gordenthorpe! It has been some time.”
The wizened old magician nodded, looking at Pent. He cleared his throat. “I… I am ashamed. I have been following the events here as they took place, and I know of what has befallen you all. You stood against my greatest rival as I cowered in fear in my home. You risked your life for people you have just met, against a force you didn’t even understand. I’m truly sorry.”
Pent stared, not sure how to respond. Finally, he shrugged. “It’s alright. What are you going to do? Sometimes you just need to accept the past, ‘cause you can’t change what’s already happened.”
“In truth, I was fearful beyond imagination. Fearful for my life. I knew what Yozer was capable of. But you have shown me the importance of fighting for what you believe is right. That great things can be achieved by standing up for what you believe in. In my old age, I may have lost sight of what is really important. Living a valueless life… That’s not a life worth living at all.”
He paced back and forth in front of them, clearly preparing for some kind of speech. “There is one thing I want to share with you. Many years ago, when Yozer and I were much younger, there were many men and women who wandered the world from end to end. Yozer and I were among their number. We were called Crusaders. In humanity’s most difficult moment, we fought for what we believed was right and for the common good. We fought to defend humanity from countless threats. You remind me of them, Pent. You didn’t flee, even when the situation was impossibly desperate.
“The Crusaders’ time eventually came to pass. Yozer abandoned his old ideals, and instead waged a direct war on them. I believed I was the last of the Crusaders. As Yozer replaced their heroics and bravery with his ordered rule, he took control of the masses by the way of fear. He delivered great harm to any who opposed him and even those under him. The simple uttering of his name was enough to traumatize all who heard it. In that fear there was control.
“The Age of Yozer has now passed. With his death, that order will crumble. Pent, you have done a great good in defeating him, there is no question in my mind of that. But the world will be a much different place without him. In many ways, a much better place, but also a more dangerous place. Somerville is but a drop in the ocean that is the world, and Yozer ruled it all. The impact of this act will cause not ripples, but tidal waves. The world will need more heroes in the future.”
Pent smiled. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Epilogue
Agme paced in his keep. He had marched back and forth for so long, and with such nervous determination, that he feared he would wear a trench in the floor. Master Yozer will not like it if things are in disarray when he returns.
He checked the window and then returned to his pacing. He checked again. He had sent three crows out already. His mystical spies out in the world had brought him no news of Master Yozer’s return.
He did know that Master Yozer had traveled to Gilbrand’s castle, no doubt recruiting men with which to sack Somerville, but he had not heard any of the results of the battle that was surely waged.
What possibly could have happened? The pacing continued.
Agme heard a rustling at the door. “Master?” he called out into the hall. A white mist slowly poured into the room and was drawn into an orb in the corner. The orb was covered in dust, unused since its conception, but now glowed faintly as the mist settled within.
Agme breathed a sigh of relief.
From the Author
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