Heir of the Blood King
Page 8
Chapter Five: A Day of Renewed Hope
Talia awoke Donadeir shortly before daybreak, and they traveled to the stream together to drink and splash their faces. She then led him to where she had discovered the wild berries, and left him to gather them while she returned to the village to scavenge for supplies. Donadeir remained quiet, yet cooperative during their walk.
She was relieved to see a good night’s rest had lifted his spirits. She had been concerned about leaving him alone to forage for food while she checked out the village. However, after she showed him the area she had discovered, he went right to work, putting her mind at ease.
As Talia came closer to the village, the overwhelming stench of burnt hair and flesh permeated the air. She moved carefully through the brush, drifting slightly away from the path to conceal her approach. Talia moved to the best vantage point she knew in order to take in the whole village and was aghast at what her eyes beheld. The entire existence of her home and of her people had been wiped from the face of the Earth.
Her home, the community she had known her entire life, lay before her and there was nothing left of it. Blackened, smoldering ruins stood in place of the once humble structures. The Blood King’s guards had callously stacked the corpses of the villagers in the center of the village for one giant funeral pyre.
Talia surveyed the destruction and her heart became heavy. None of the guards remained behind. They were moving on to other settlements and homesteads, she believed, seeking the heir. A few faces of people from the outer lands could be seen wandering through the village streets, scavenging what little remained of the village’s valuables. Several had already begun gathering debris and piling it near the center of the main market square. A couple of smaller river rafts were tied to a few of the remaining docking posts along the river’s edge, as the docks themselves had been ravished by the fires. Talia carefully made her way to the pile of the debris, keeping her head lowered to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Even though there were no guards nearby she could see, if any young people were seen about, it could easily draw the guards back to the area once again. It seemed safe for the moment, but it would be best not to risk anything.
Talia arrived at a pile of debris and picked up a wad of tattered cloth which was once a small blanket. She carefully unfolded it and shook out what dirt and debris she could. As she placed the cloth over her head, she positioned it so it would partially conceal her face and then she wrapped it around her like a head scarf. She managed to find a couple of dull, worn utensils and a kitchen knife. She also found a small leather tote sack with a hole in the bottom. She could easily repair it with some leather stripping to carry any supplies they needed. Talia didn’t find any of the pots Donadeir had mentioned. What was left behind in the burnt out bakery had already been removed. She did manage to find a partially broken pottery bowl which could be used to hold and carry water. She tucked the bowl into her leather tote sack.
She made her way to the water well, and a putrid stench arose from within and brought tears to Talia’s eyes. Upon further examination, she discovered some of her fellow villagers had tried to hide inside but quickly fell under the arrows from guards up above. Turning away from the ghastly sight, she moved on to her mission.
She did manage to find two gutstrings lying in the dirt below the tree nearby. When she moved to the tanner’s burnt home, there were no hides on any of the broken racks and the tanner’s salt house had also been destroyed by the fires. She realized at this point it was too late to find much of anything else and slipped quietly back into the northern brush.
The images of her fellow villagers in the well continued to haunt her thoughts as she made her way back to Donadeir.