by D. H. Aire
#
Lawson had told no one of his plans, knowing many would try to stop him. Everyone had their role and his, though, important, was one that was causing arguments and division. Apparently, Mendra had suspected and sent Greth harrowing after him the moment he returned with his troop of hunters, scavenging to the east and north.
He had thought he had achieved a solid head start, in case any dared pursue him, but the longer legged and more experienced Greth caught up with him all too quickly. “Well, Lawson, let’s hope that fool stunt hasn’t drawn the attention of any goblins,” Greth said.
“We should be too far south… shouldn’t we?” he asked, smelling the acrid smoke on the breeze, which wafted upward.
“Lawson, don’t count on that. Mother should never have sent you out here on your own.”
“I think she sent you after me.”
“Bah, my father and Mendra did as soon as Mother explained to them she needs to contact the Chief Engineer.”
“Greth, I’ve no doubt she does. George understands more about her than I do –– than any of us do. I can’t do any more than I have, anymore… We’ve fixed the Holy Comm Array and I’ve taught the kids how to make the repairs she’s wants done, which will keep them busy for quite some time.”
“Berrick’s throwing fits.”
“Well, he’s not in charge now.”
“Which is why he and the other former counselors are up in arms.”
“Good thing I’ve left then. Your father being in charge with Mother’s Blessings, and all.”
Greth nodded, “Better that than Berrick’s former priests continuing to argue what’s Mother’s Will, when Mother is telling them to stop pretending to know what she’s been saying for centuries.”
“She definitely knows her own mind,” Lawson muttered, touching his cheek, where the Holy Implant was set shortly after his birth, one of what the priests had called an important “Holy Ritual.”
“That she does, demanding you to go on a fool’s quest to find George… something she should have asked me to do.”
“Greth, as her Marine Commander, she needed you back there.”
“Somehow I’ve feeling Mother can take care of herself now.”
“Only because of George…”
“There’s more to your leaving home than just finding him, isn’t there?”
Shrugging, Lawson pointed, “The pass should be down that way, according to the map.”
“Map?”
“Well, that’s what Mother calls it,” he answered, pausing to drink from one of his string of canteens.
“How’s she even ‘seeing’ it’s there?”
“I’m only her Assistant Engineer,” he replied, stowing his canteen against his bulky pack, not wanting to think about what Mother might really be planning, but certain he would learn more soon enough –– or contemplate what Mother meant by having a few friends left in the sky.
#
Greth forbade building fires at night and they saw well enough in the dark, better under the moonlight from one or the other moons. Lawson took the box from his pack. It was no burden for him, though, with his shorter stature, Greth looked at him often, clearly wondering how long it would be before he would be asked to carry it –– something he would not do. He was a hunter, he needed to travel light. Swords, knives, the strength of his bare hands were all he needed.
Glanced at Lawson, who set out a blanket, Greth watched his too short friend build a machine of some kind. “Where did you even find that?”
“Mother delights in her little secrets.”
“Not unlike you’re taking the orphan kids and turning them into Mother’s private, you called ‘Engineering Team.’”
“Well, like me, they’re small enough to help – and were apparently unwanted.”
“Not unwanted, Lawson… Never that. Just to hear everyone talking about them ––
inconvenient until they’re older. You know many will end up among my hunters.”
Nodding, Lawson caught himself before he could say, Which is where their parents died. Instead he said, “Well, no one argued with my co-opting them for Mother’s service.”
“Yes, they did. You just didn’t hear it… or Mendra’s comments to just the right people about how it would keep those kids from being underfoot.”
“I thought Mother’s endorsement…”
“That was enough for most, but Berrick was…”
“Whispering against me.”
“And my father as Qapin every chance he gets –– which makes you leaving as you did a problem.”
“The kids know what to do and Mother’s providing for them.”
“But they won’t be kids forever.”
“No, they’ll be too tall at that point. Mother told me she needs more dwarves among the people.”
Greth winced, “Only being six feet tall isn’t the worst thing in the world.”
“No, but it would be nice if any of the young women we know felt the same way.”
Clearing his throat, Greth knew that was truth, particularly since he never seemed to find himself alone for long returning from the foragings. “Well, our knowing each other all our lives they see you more as… a brother.”
Chuckling, Lawson finished putting together the device, which suddenly beeped and heard a voice in his head say, :ASSISTANT ENGINEER, REPORT.:
“Hello, Mother,” he replied, then sighed and made his report, which was thankfully brief.
#
Greth looked at him, “Mother can’t be right. There’s no such place.”
“She’s mapped it…” He drew in the dirt the outline of the Blight to the south and the Barrier Mountains to the west, which angled further west along their southern edge. “There’s a narrow pass between the Blight’s edge and the range. She’s designated it Badlands, but it leads into the lands that George must have gone, if he were to find the elves.”
“But he did not go this way.”
“No,” Lawson admitted. “Mother says he went over the mountains.”
Greth shook his head, looked at his hands, “Not something I would recommend us attempting.”
“No,” he agreed, nodding. “It is safer to go as Mother directs.”
“And once we reach these Badlands.”
“I go on alone and you return home.”
“You’ll not survive.”
“Greth, Mother says it is too dangerous for you.”
“And it isn’t for you?”
“My disability apparently offers some benefits.”
“Hmm, benefits which won’t help keep you safe from spear or sword.”
“Well…”
“I’m coming with you, Lawson.”
He did not like it, but Greth brooked no further argument. They continued across the Waste, heading southwest as the ever rising mists of the Blight became more visible, knowing it would be their deaths to breathe those vapors.
Chapter 6 – Game of Catha and Mouse
“Mother, you want me to wear that?” the boy exclaimed.
“Vyss, it’ll look so lovely on you,” Aly’na said.
“Mother, this is crazy!” he replied, staring at the dress.
She held up the padded binding and a strap. “Oh, put this one on first, and this one will lend you a bit more shape up top rather nicely.”
“Ugh…”
“Vyss.”
“But… this is ridiculous.”
“Vyss,” his mother cajoled.
“Oh, turn around!” he half pleaded.
“I’m your mother for Kyrr’s Sake. It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before! You were so sick that ––”
“Mother!” he protested, blushing.
“Oh, very well. I’ll turn around.”
#
Sire Ryff looked out the third story window across the courtyard. Torches lit the area, and triple the number of guardswomen patrolled the walls and grounds.
“De’ohr, I want to see him one more time.”
“I’m sorry, now is the time for pretense…”
“I must see him.”
“I can arrange something, but it’ll be less than you seek… to do more, courts disaster.”
#
She nearly tripped when Mother Shaman De’ohr entered.
“My, my, you look –– well, so handsome.”
“Mother Shaman, I can’t do this!”
“Now, Tes’sa, you are your half-brother’s spitting image… Now, just remember to speak a bit deeper. Hmm, better yet, do a lot of whispering to your father and everyone else from now on.”
“Huh?”
“Definitely lots of whispering… all you have to do is tell them he wanted to talk to you about him finding you a bride.”
Tes’sa blanched.
“That’s perfect… Just the look we’re going for.” There was a knock. The door opened someone slipped inside edging toward the shadows. “Oh, good, you are here at last. It was thoughtful of Lord Erone to gift you to our House. You will ware Lord Vyss here.”
“Mother Shaman,” said the uncharacteristically garbed young woman in the hooded black robe, bowing to Tes’sa, “Milord, my honor to serve you. My Sire regrets my sister, Fri’il, is no longer bound to you, then again, she has none of my skills.”
Tes’sa shivered, knowing things were worse than she thought.
#
Sire Ryff did not get much sleep the night before. Joining the family at table for breakfast, he winced, realizing he had drunk too much… but impending death should be excuse enough.
He blinked, seeing Vyss arrive with a hooded robed Unnamed and two bodyguards in black livery behind him. He tried to meet the Unnamed’s gaze, then looked at Tes’sa, who he knew was younger than Vyss, but as sick as the boy had been they were the same height and thin framed build. Now, with her blond hair cropped short, she was the spitting image of her brother.
Tes’sa nodded and took the seat beside him. Her hands trembled as a Sister doing double duty as both protector and server brought her seeming young lord his breakfast of cheese, bread, hard boiled eggs, and sliced fruit.
Ryff laid his right hand on his ‘son’s.’ “I know this is difficult, lad.”
De’ohr glanced at her.
Swallowing, Tes’sa leaned over and remembered to reply in but a whisper, “Do I have to worry about poison?”
He shook his head and replied, “No, lad… you don’t.”
Tes’sa nodded, then began to eat her fill, not realizing the full import of his reply.
#
Nessa was happy they paused to rest. Marching through the tunnels had felt like an eternity. She’d held seven-year-old En’sta’s hand for hours, almost dragging her at times. The young women who were older than her charge carried sleeping youngers on their backs.
It was near dawn when they came out of a drainage tunnel far beyond the city walls. Their guide whispered, “Keep them all quiet, these woods can carry sound for leagues.”
En’sta muttered, “I’m tired. Can’t we go home?”
“Shh,” Nessa whispered in reply. “I’m watching out for you.”
“But I don’t want to poop in a hole in the ground!”
“Shh, when the time comes, I’ll dig it for you and stay by your side.”
“Why, why couldn’t we just stay at the estate?” En’sta whispered.
Now that was a question that begged to be answered. Being sent out as they had meant things were going to get very bad back home –– very bad indeed. The other nearest youngers En’sta’s age stared at them. Wonderful, Nessa thought. “This is, uh, your first Test… You know how we all go through training. Well, everyone once in a while does this. Believe me, your mothers and the older Sisters are going to really be impressed when you tell her all about it.”
The girl blinked, then smiled. The nearest girls nodded, whispering, “Test.”
Yel’ane glanced wide-eyed and said, “Uh, of course, silly.”
Soon the youngers were all smiling and Mistress Ky’los passed the word that wagons were waiting from them ahead, hoping that was going according to plan as it cost the House enough. She was definitely relieved at the change in attitude –– which helped them keep the older kids silent for the next hour, before the giggling started, that is.
The sleeping little girls, back-packed on the older girls in her charge, began to stir. She would have to order another dosing soon. Once they reached the wagons… Ky’los prayed they were there waiting for them at the edge of the Badlands. Crossing the border in the dead of night, the House’s bribing of guards, drugging others, as circumstances demanded, gave them their best chance of slipping out of Catha. And, it was not as if the guards had much concern for people slipping into the Badlands, but she knew they could not fool the other Houses forever. Then again, she thought, there were worse things that could happen on this trek, which is why those wagons awaiting for them at the edge of the Badlands, which deserved its name, were so important.
#
The woman frowned watching Vyss staying close by his Sire’s side. Later she helped with the gardening and tried to get closer to the dormitory buildings, which were under heavy guard. “La’adra, what do you think you’re doing?” Cook demanded, clearly irritated, and limping for some reason.
“Hmm… Oh, just worrying about...”
“Well, don’t! Just get those vegetables to the kitchen!”
La’adra moved away, biding her time, trying to smile innocently. She needed to finish the job herself… and she had little skill for it. So, the kitchen offered her the best opportunity. Careful not to glance at the poison she concealed, she gathered the vegetables in her basket and headed for the kitchen.
#
Mahr muttered about her aching back as Za’an and their year mates commiserated. They had given the little ones a second dosing at the last rest stop. Mistress Ky’los led their group through the thinning woods, which marked the western edge of Cathartan. Trader Re’atta had split off her group before dawn, angling further south. Mahr frowned, looking up at the setting second moon still visible in the morning light, wondering how many other groups were doing the same as they.
Za’an shared her concerned look.
Their group included nearly two hundred girls, who looked exhausted, trudging along by twos or threes, making far too much noise as they followed her along an animal trail as dawn began to push back the darkness and make the stars’ light fade.
Mistress Ky’los glanced back, daring not allow her troop another moment’s rest. They were still too close to the Catha. “Pass the word back; tell them we’ve a safe place to rest in an hour or so.”
The adolescent behind her, a toddler strapped to her back, nodded, turned and finger signed to the older girls behind her. The message was soon relayed back along the line.
Nessa’s year-mate Hes’tyr glanced back and signed to her, frowning seeing Nessa and Yel’ane had fallen even further back. ‘You need to keep up,’ she added in sign.
Nessa gave her a long look as she urged her charges on, then merely nodded back. Yel’ane steps behind her, prodded her half-stumbling and straggling seven-year-olds on, muttering, “Oh, this is just wonderful, Nessa.”
Nessa wished she could carry En’sta as the girl stumbled yet again. She reached out and steadied her as the dark haired Ani’ya staggered into her from behind. “Sorry,” the girl muttered.
Glancing at her, Yel’ane said, “We need a break, Nessa.”
“We can’t,” she replied in protest. Mistress Ky’los was barely visible in the distance and their year-mates were getting farther away from them, not even looking back, clearly exhausted and prodding their charges on.
That’s when Vi’ya collapsed on the ground. “Please, just a few minutes.”
Yel’ane hurried to help her rise as the girl’s year-mate friends halted. Ani’ya fell to her knees and soon they struggled to get each of their pair of charges up. Hest’yr and Nessa’s other Sisters continued up the l
ine.
“We can’t stop here,” Nessa warned.
Yel’ane sighed, “Uh, Nessa, I don’t think I can carry either of them.”
“I can run up to Hest’yr… if you can deal with all four of them,” Nessa offered.
“Do you really think that’s a, well, good idea? The only thing I’m really good at is running,” and hiding, Yel’ane admitted only to herself. “You’re good with that bow…”
“Fine, you go then, but hurry back!”
#
“Well, well, look what we have here,” the too thin brigand said, looking through the brush at the edge of the Badlands, peering through the spyglass.
“Well, they weren’t setting a trap for us. That’s definitely not a Cathartan patrol…” the other brigand scout replied, peering through the brush atop the hill.
“Looks like a House has gone and Shattered.”
They grinned at each other. Their friends had the promised wagons and draft horses waiting. However, they had no doubt the deal was about to change. Minutes later they were riding off through the lee in the hills to alert the others.
#
“Well, well,” their leader muttered. “Lots of little girls, you say?”
“Two for every older girl or very young woman,” one of the scout replied, grinning.
“Why, how lovely. In that case, I believe we’re going to find this a much more profitable day than originally planned, ladies.”
There were cheers and jeers as over sixty women exiles, who knew better than ever to try to raid across the Catha border, soon headed to their mounts to set up their ambush. Each knowing that capturing such prizes and returning them to Cathart could change their fortunes drastically; even earn many of them pardons and a welcome home in Cathart, if not Catha. For those who could never hope for such, they could take their pick of permanent… guests, who would serve them. Life was rather harsh in the Badlands, and entertainment was what you made of it.
#
Mistress Ky’los’ scout watched, garbed to blend in to the badland’s rocks and brush, as the brigand women rode toward them out of the north, fanning out, moving to cut off any means of escape once their group reached the promised safety of the wagons. Breaking cover, she raced back down the trail, cursing their luck, knowing it would not be long before these human wolves fell on them… and they needed those wagons. Curse it that this particular band of thieves and cutthroats, who they had spent so much time and coin secretly bribing refused to stay bought.
