Sherie raised the glass to him and took a big gulp. Oh, the taste was horrible. It tasted the way some cleaning fluids smell. By the time she finished coughing, her sinuses were clear, and her eye watered. She grabbed her water and took a quick drink of it, to try to wash it down.
"So, what happened next?" He asked.
She exhaled slowly, and replied, "Long story short, we locked three of the gates and broke the mechanisms so they couldn't be opened. We got out of there with; I don't know... maybe one-hundred thousand? That's what I was told anyway. It was about half Legion and House Guard, and the other half was civilians. We watched the civi's for a few hours, to see if any would change. Some did, and we killed 'em quick. Then we took their food and weapons and sent 'em walking down to Narin Hold." Sherie took the glass in hand, plugged her nose and drank what was left in it.
"More?" He asked.
Sherie was already feeling a little fuzzy from this strong alcohol, but she wanted to get so drunk, so she no longer could remember what happened. She held her glass out to him, "If you don't mind, sir."
"Alright, you are gonna be snockered when this hits you, just so you know," he told her.
"Good."
"So you made the civilians walk all the way to Narin Hold after you took all of their food and weapons? That's pretty damned rotten," he told her as her handed her the glass.
"Isn't it? Well, I was just following orders, and we needed it. If they wanted any, they could have stayed with us and helped. Some did. Anyway, the Colonel was relieved by Commander Quedesham after he tried to send us back into Vox to take it." She held her nose and took a smaller drink than before.
"The Commander relieved him? On what grounds?" He asked, keenly interested.
"On the grounds that his dumb ass just got a bunch of us killed trying to go back in there. On account that he had a bad case of being gutted." Sherie giggled like a little girl at that. It was completely inappropriate to laugh at that, but Klaes had deserved it more than anyone Sherie knew.
"More than anyone besides Quedesham," she thought while taking another small drink.
"By the spirits, someone killed the Colonel?" He said.
"It doesn't matter, I didn't see nothin'" Sherie slurred. "That's what everyone's gonna say. He killed at least a thousand of us, just by bein' a dumb ass."
Jona nodded in understanding. She giggled again. "Colonel Klaes...he just tripped, and shtuck himself wif his own blade."
"Wow," he said in genuine amazement.
Sherie just grabbed her blade and leaned against the wall, cradling it. "Don't worry about him. Worry 'bout the Kryssh. They're comin'. I don't know what happened after my eye was taken; I can't 'member, but I know everyone is dead. And we're next."
Her eye closed, and she passed out peacefully.
Friday June 8th 1612th year of the First Great City Realization
She woke up to the sound of wood splitting outside. Sherie's neck was sore, and her head hurt. She'd fallen asleep sitting against the wall. Her blade was still in her hand. She could see it was just past dawn. She'd be willing to lay money that what she drank last night was an illegal brew. Though it had done the job quite nicely.
Sherie looked around and didn't see Jona anywhere. Then she heard the dull sound of wood striking wood again. She stood up stiffly and stretched herself. She still had the blanket around her. When she finished, she went into the small bedroom and found her filthy breeches, boots, and tunic. They were so grimy with days of sweat that they were crusty.
Sherie stuck her feet into her leather boots and went outside. She held her grimy clothes in her hand and looked around the surrounding woods for the old man. It took only a few seconds before the ugly hound dog spotted her and started barking. Jona split another piece of wood with his heavy maul and swung it up onto his shoulder.
"Morning, Miss Els. How are you feeling?" He asked with a smirk on his face. Jona seemed, to her, to be a happy and good-natured man for some reason she just couldn't fathom.
"I'm Okay. I just need to get myself clean. Is there somewhere I can wash?" She asked.
"Yeah, you can just go down to the river. Let me get you some things to clean up with." He set his wood-splitting maul down beside the wood pile and jogged into the house. Spry for an old guy, she thought.
He came out within a couple of minutes with a basket that contained a towel, a bar of soap and a bristle brush. Sherie smiled and said, "Thank you, sir. Which way is the river?"
"The river is that way, to the south. Follow the road here; take the first path leading left. It's beaten down pretty well, and it will take you right there. One more thing, Miss Els; don't get any of that river water in your eye socket. It isn't clean enough, and if it gets infected, you'll die," he looked at her as seriously as the death he mentioned.
"Right, thanks for telling me," she said. She looked at what he called a "road" and tried not to snicker. Compared to the kind of road she was used to, it was like calling his dog a horse. This dirt road was barely wide enough for a smalll wagon. The roads in Vox were wide enough for four wagons abreast in most places though they were wider at the gates. Sherie ambled toward the river while taking in the sights and sounds. She had to admit that it was pretty here. The only bad thing was that every little noise seemed to end with her blade in her hand, and her heart pounding. She tried not to be so jumpy, but she knew the Kryss could be here already; they ran so fast. She made sure to look up into the trees regularly. More than a few of her comrades that hadn’t looked up were dead now.
She knew she needed to get herself cleaned up and headed back to Vox to see what happened. If she didn't see any other soldiers, whether they be of the Crown Legion or a House Guard, she would turn back and head to Narin Hold. It should be the closest one to here if she remembered the maps right.
Well, even if she didn't remember correctly, she was certain that Jona would know the way to the nearest Hold.
She heard the babble of the river's water before she could see it. Sherie had never bathed in a river before, and it made her nervous since it would be harder to hear hostiles because of the noise of the water. She knew for sure that Kryss had made it out of the City; she had seen a few herself and it made her nervous that she had no idea where they might be.
Sherie took another look around to make sure there were no enemies or perverts hiding in the woods. When she was satisfied, she unwound the blanket that was around her and laid it on a rock on the riverbank. She pulled her boots off, and put one foot into the water; she'd expected it to be cold, but it was the perfect temperature.
She set the basket and clothes by the edge of the river. The first thing she wanted to clean was her blade.
Her blade... Sherie didn't even try to hold back her tears when she recalled how she'd found it.
Her father’s blade.
That was what remained of him for her. She had already been fighting for a full day, without sleep, it was like a nightmare, except this horror actually happened. She’d found him lying there in his Legion armor, with his face only halfway recognizable. He was beside a Kryss that had this short blade stuck in its skull. Chunks of flesh had been torn from his body by the hungry cannibals.
Part of Sherie had died right there. The part that remembered all the nights they had sat down for dinner when her father had told them all about his day. That part of her that had joined the Crown Legion three months before her eighteenth summer. The part of her that had received her commission while he watched proudly.
Only Bryce had been able to calm her after that. He comforted her by saying, "Looks like he took the bastard with him, his sheath's empty." She looked in disbelief at first but noticed he was right. The Kryss beside him was as dead as dinner, and her father's short blade sheath was empty. Sherie put her foot on the thing's skull and yanked it out, having come back to herself because of Bryce’s deep calm voice.
Sherie knelt in the water and wept. She wept for her father, for Bryce Tangarth, and for her squad mates. S
he took the towel and wiped the blade down after dunking it. She laid it right by the basket. Sherie then had a chance to learn a little about trying to clean her clothes in a river. They got good and wet, but it was taking a lot more work than she anticipated.
Her mother had always told her she would make a terrible wife. Now she knew for sure that she was right. She still had no idea what had happened to her mother. It was possible she'd been with the civilians that escaped the city with them, but she hadn't seen her.
It was more likely that she was dead, or changed. If she hadn't gotten out of the city with them, she was one of the two, and she knew it was a blessing that she hadn't seen her.
After she had got her clothes as clean as she could, she took the soap and brush and worked on cleaning herself. Sherie scrubbed herself nearly raw, everywhere but near her missing right eye. She didn't want to get the bandage wet. She got her hair as clean as she could and yanked several knots out of it with her fingers. She ended up becoming frustrated with it. So Sherie grabbed her long tail, took her short sword into hand and sawed it off. Her dark brown hair was shorter than it had ever been now, and it hung down to the level of her chin behind her head. The hair in front of her face was longer than the hair on the back of her head now.
Sherie took her leather cord that she'd held her hair with and tied it on top of her head to keep it out of the way. She imagined she looked something like a radish with her hair tied like that; she nearly chuckled at the thought.
Then she wondered, what happened to Gaukrin? Her brother was only five years old. He would have had no chance to survive with everything that happened. She just hoped he'd died quickly. She covered her mouth and closed her eye as the tears came to her again.
In the darkness of her mind, there was a flash; she held the long sharpened piece of wood in her hand that did the job of a spear for them. She could tell it was after she'd lost her eye; she could only see her left side clearly.
Sherie remembered them coming out of the City's south gate after they had begun the bombardment. They had poured out of that gate like a living mass; they were running as fast as horses. Some ran over others while others leaped to the front, but they never slowed.
Until they collided with their formation.
The corpse white coloring marked this child’s body. It had bitten one of her men that was in the melee. Sherie stabbed the child with her long piece of sharpened wood. Sherie had marked the soldier in her mind; if he survived the battle, she would have to take his head. Just as she had done to twenty-three other comrades before then.
Better dead than changed. He would understand, and make his last
wishes known to all.This memory was unwilling to show itself to her. But Sherie wouldn't leave it be. She couldn't leave it be. She had to know what had happened, and how she came to be here.
In her mind's eye, the boy's head turned to her. That was when her heart twisted, and she screamed, in her memory and now. The boy's irises were pink, and the rest of his eye was black. The creature that used to be her little brother Gaukrin snarled at her with a soldier's blood dripping down his chin.
She remembered now. Sherie burned with shame as she remembered dropping her makeshift spear and running. She ran and kept running.
She didn't remember stopping.
She sobbed. Now she knew how she had shamed herself, her family and the Crown Legion. She opened her eye and took her father's blade into hand. Pulling it from the sheath, she set the sharp point just beneath her rib cage while she knelt there as naked as the day she was born.
"NO GIRL! DON'T DO IT!" Jona shouted. Sherie opened her eye and could see the old man panting with his dog.
"Why not?" she yelled. "I remember what happened now. I ran. You served, you know what happens to deserters! They'll just hang me anyway!"
"Just wait a minute Miss Els, you didn't say anything about this before, but you remember now?" He asked cautiously, lowering the ax he held.
"Yes, I remember now," she sobbed as she took the blade's hilt in both hands and straightened her back.
"Just tell me what happened. If it's as you say, you can still do it. Just wait a minute and explain it to me," he begged.
Sherie heard a rustling of leaves off the path in the woods. The dog started barking, and the hair on her neck rose. She stood up without a word and swung her sword around in her left hand. She knew this feeling; something was coming.
She pushed past him quickly and yanked his ax out of his hand before he could tighten his grip. Jona yelled, "What the hell woman?"
"Stay behind me!" She hissed before the creature leaped out of the woods straight for her.
A Kryss.
This one had been a small man. It wore the clothes of a commoner.
She dodged back as it tried to grab her twice in rapid succession. She took the bastard's hand off with her blade on his second try. It screeched and reeled backward. Sherie stepped forward and chopped at his uninjured arm. He withdrew it, with fear in his eyes.
That was what she liked to see in these monsters - fear. Sherie's lips curled back as she snarled and swung Jona's ax at it. It tried to jump back but ran into a small tree. The sharp ax split its nose down the middle. She brought her father's blade up and pinned the creature to a tree.
Sherie let go and brought the ax up in a two-handed grip. With an overhead swing, it bit deeply into its skull. The thing tried to grab her again, but she just let go of the ax and stepped back. She twirled forward and gave it a kick it in the chest while grabbing her blade; she could feel its ribs break. It gasped as she swung her short blade around in a twohanded grip and struck it in the neck.
Its sprayed blood all over her. Sherie knew to close her eye and mouth when it did. If the blood got in her, she would become one of them. The creature slumped forward to the ground; with its head only partially attached. She fixed that for it with a savage downward blow. Breathing heavily, she grabbed the ax that was still stuck in its skull. With a few business-like whacks against a tree, she was able to knock the creatures head off of it.
When she turned to face Jona with the weapons in each hand, he held Queenie in his arms, and the dog barked at her. The old man looked like he'd seen a spirit or something.
"Miss Els, I want to say I'm sorry I ever doubted you. Can I ask you to please tell me everything you remember now?" He knelt down to the ground, but still held onto the dog as if it was an anchor for him.
"Sure. I ain't going to the afterlife covered in this bastards blood anyway."
* * *
A few hours later, Sherie found herself walking on the path going towards the main road to Narin Hold. It was closer than Vox was, and Sherie could turn herself in to House Narin authority. Jona had convinced her that he should be able to get them to show her leniency for her desertion. He said there were provisions for soldiers too injured to continue in battle. He assured her that with her eye, he should be able to get her a fair hearing.
She reluctantly agreed with his idea. After they had lunch at his home, he packed a bag with some dried meat and a water skin. He walked alongside her with his bow in hand. Sherie had wanted to take the bow; she was certain she was a better shot than he was. So he challenged her to show him.
She had missed her target completely. It was only fifteen paces away, too! He explained to her that she was going to have to re-learn aiming at a distance because of the loss of her eye. She grudgingly acknowledged this.
Sherie walked along with him in her dented and beaten armor. She had to be the sorriest soldier in the Legion right now. Her long blade was gone, she had no bow, she only had one dagger remaining of the two she started with, but she had her short sword at least. She was out of sulfur, but she still had her flint and steel.
According to Jona, the river she bathed in split off of the Sina River. The Sina River is the great river that runs through Vox, beside Narin and Fenel Hold. The road they are on goes east towards the road beside the Sina River and comes onto it about halfway betwe
en Narin Hold and Fenel Hold.
They walked for hours in relative silence. Sometimes they would talk for brief moments, but they were mostly silent companions. This suited her mood. After several hours, they encountered the main road.
It wasn't until later during their walk that they encountered anyone. There was a pair of Guardsmen on horseback. Their armor bore the crest of House Narin. Sherie had few encounters with them since their authority resided outside of Vox. She was much more familiar with House Quenton and House Corun. Those two were the Great Houses of Vox... at least they had been.
The two men of the patrol stopped and looked at each other briefly. They slid off of their horses and walked them over. Their hands rested on their long blades, but not in readiness, more of a casual caution.
"Are you alright ma'am?" The taller of the two men asked as they approached. Sherie wasn't surprised, she didn't have a mirror, but she knew her armor looked like hell. Of course, her bandaged eye added quite a bit to that image.
"Other than losing my eye, I feel fine," she lied.
"Good to hear, ma'am." The stockier soldier said.
The two soldiers came towards them, probably just to perform a
routine check of travelers. She couldn't fault them; she would have stopped a soldier that looked like they'd been beaten to hell, too. They were much more relaxed than they should have been, actually, one of them should have stayed back and covered the other with his bow.
But she was a one-eyed Crown Legionnaire in uniform, and Jona was an old man with a dog. While what they were doing was against Legion procedure, she couldn't fault them for being this relaxed either.
That was when Queenie ran out from beside Jona, with her tail wagging and tongue lolling, right at the tall man. It startled Sherie so much she drew steel instantly. The startled House Guards gripped their weapons, with the tall one lashing his foot into the poor hound's chest. There was a crunch of bones and a yelp from her.
Fugitive: A Prequel to Spirit of Magik Page 2
