His job was to keep people safe and make sure they survived. Anything else was secondary. Even the ruin.
~ ~ ~
A valley of verdant lushness extended for miles to the north between the hills. Sunlight broke through the clouds, and a bright sliver of silver snaked into the distance: a river. A short way into the valley, the trees had been cleared, and ramshackle dwellings spotted the landscape. Wood smoke plumed from chimneys, and somewhere a dog barked. To either side of the settlement, fields, both freshly plowed and filled with crops, showed the settlers were eking a living from the forest.
Far in the distance, more trees had been cleared, and cattle, sheep, and goats grazed. By the stream, a mill wheel turned, powered by the flowing water. The mill’s first floor was constructed of stone, the only building that had been made to last. Another large building was half built, but judging by the weeds growing from the dirt inside, it had been abandoned. If the settlers feared the Dead-eyes, they also had other concerns, Aldric guessed.
A few people were visible in the mostly deserted settlement: a woman carrying buckets from a well, children running between houses, a short man pushing a wheelbarrow full of tools. Perhaps everyone else was working in the fields or cutting wood in the forest.
Aldric noticed the remains of a burned building to the east. Charred timbers jutted into the air, and chickens pecked among the ruins.
“Was that there before?” he asked Neb.
The settler followed Aldric’s extended arm. “Aye. The Dead-eyes did it. Knocked over an oil lamp. Family got out, but they lost everything.”
Neb trotted his horse toward Cherish, and everyone trailed after him.
Niklaus moved his horse closer to Aldric’s. “We’ve arrived at the asshole of the world,” he said. “I’d hate to die here, torn apart and defiled by Dead-eyes.” He looked over at Stray Dog. “How about you? Fancy dying here with the farmers and their dirt?”
Stray Dog gave Niklaus a blank look and shrugged. “That’s not going to happen.”
Niklaus chuckled, as if Stray Dog had said something amusing. “No, I suppose not. But if they’ve got some beer or spirits, plenty of food, and maybe a pretty girl or three, they might make it worth my while to save them.”
Aldric shook his head in disgust, while Stray Dog rode away after Neb.
“No sense of humor,” muttered Niklaus.
“Maybe he doesn’t find you funny,” Bryn said.
Priska snorted. “I’d wager not many do.”
Niklaus placed his hand over his heart. “You wound me, fair maiden.”
“She’s no one’s maiden,” growled Razmus; then his eyes widened as Niklaus and Bryn burst out laughing.
His daughter gave him a withering look, and Soki shook her head. Even Aldric had to hide a smile.
“That’s not what I meant,” Razmus said. He shot Niklaus a dark look before following in Stray Dog’s dust.
Priska glanced at Valeria, who shrugged. “Never mind him, my dear. Fathers will always try to shelter their daughters. And sometimes that love can smother.”
Holy Menselas, managing these people was worse than herding cats, Aldric thought. And now they’d have the settlers to deal with as well.
Neb cantered into the settlement and waved his hat in the air. His shouts echoed across the fields, and the few settlers in the street looked up. One pointed past Neb toward Aldric and the others. The settlers dropped whatever they were carrying and scurried inside their houses. In moments, the street was empty. Even the children had disappeared.
“A fine welcome indeed,” Niklaus said, and laughed loudly.
Aldric scowled at him, wondering if people despised him everywhere he went. Immediately, he felt guilty at the thought.
“Hello!” cried Neb. “I’m back. I’ve brought warriors with me!”
In the distance, a door slammed shut. Then only silence greeted him.
Aldric urged his horse forward, and his companions followed. Neb’s shouting grew louder as they approached, then trailed off.
Metal screeched to their right as a door opened a crack. Two children poked their faces out. A woman shouted at them, and the door closed quickly.
Bryn cleared his throat. “Where’s the inn?” he asked Neb, face deadpan.
Stray Dog snorted as he suppressed a chuckle.
Neb jammed his hat on his head. “Most are out in the fields and the mine. That’s why no one’s here.” He cleared his throat. “When they all get back, there’ll be a proper welcome. And there’s no inn. You’ll stay in the meeting hall, which is next to the mayor’s house.”
“You have a mayor? In this place?” Soki said. “Well, we’d better go meet him, then.”
Neb drew himself up. “You have. It’s me. That’s who’s the mayor. But my place isn’t big enough for everyone.”
“Of course,” Aldric said, attempting to head off any disparaging comments about the arrangement. He would prefer a separate room, but they’d make do. “That’s fine. Whatever is available will do.”
“As long as there’s something to drink,” Niklaus said.
“And eat,” added Stray Dog. “I’m starved.”
They all were, having skipped the midday meal, as Neb had said if they did, they’d reach the settlement before dark.
“Ah, we don’t have a lot to offer,” said Neb, wringing his hat in his hands like a chicken’s neck. “But you’re welcome to what we can spare.”
Niklaus gave Aldric a sharp look, a smirk on his face. Aldric ignored the implied criticism, though he heard it loud and clear: These settlers want us to fight and possibly die for them, yet they begrudge us food.
Aldric helped people—it was what he did—but it never ceased to amaze him how some people wanted things both ways. In this case, the settlers wanted their problem with the Dead-eyes solved, but they didn’t want to have to deal with the type of people required for the solution: rough men who killed for a living, and sorcerers, who they likely had a superstitious fear of. Aldric understood their dilemma and even why they were so afraid. They wanted a simple life, free of troubles. But the Dead-eyes, and now Aldric, had brought violence among them. He didn’t think the settlers would give them a warm reception, and he worried about the reaction of the others.
“We can meet the rest of your people later,” he told Neb. “For now, find us somewhere to put our gear and stable the horses.”
Neb looked at Aldric, his face pale and a worried crease in his forehead. “They don’t mean nothin’ by it. They’re afraid. Life is tough out here. Making a new beginning, scratching a place from nothing, isn’t easy.” He coughed a laugh. “And now the Dead-eyes have … We go to bed afraid, and we wake afraid. And not just because of the Dead-eyes.”
Soki gave Neb a reassuring smile. “We understand.”
Neb led them to a large building that turned out to be a sort of common hall: log walls, joins packed with clay, supported a shingle roof already graying with age. A large iron triangle hung from the front veranda, along with an iron beater.
The group dismounted and tied their horses to rails in front of the hall.
“Take your gear inside,” Razmus advised. “We don’t want to come out, and it’s all gone.”
“Here now,” Neb protested. “We ain’t like that. In a community like this, we look after each other.”
“I like to take precautions,” Razmus said. “And we aren’t part of your community.”
Aldric sighed and raised his voice: “Do as he says. I don’t want any misunderstandings while we’re here.”
Grumbling greeted his words, but the others began unloading their saddlebags. Lugging their gear, they followed Neb inside. It was dark and cold, and Neb bustled over to a long bench against one wall and sparked a lamp alight. Using the flame to light other lamps, he soon had five going, which he positioned on shelves about the room. There was a round stone fireplace in the center, made from river stones and fired clay, with a flue above. Surrounding it were benches and st
umps for seating, and not much else. The floorboards were wide, rough-sawn timbers.
“It’s going to be cold at night,” Soki said, “with the wind coming in through the floor.”
“We might have to sleep close to each other,” Niklaus said, smiling at her. “For warmth.”
Aldric felt his face flush, even though he realized Niklaus was baiting him.
“I’m sure we’ll make do,” replied Soki.
“Get a fire going, Neb,” Niklaus said. “It’s as cold as a Dead-eye’s—” He broke off and coughed, glancing at Priska.
“He’s not your servant,” Stray Dog said. He dumped his gear by the door and moved to a pile of wood stacked close to the fireplace. He drew a knife and began stripping wood for kindling.
Razmus followed his lead after storing his own gear next to Stray Dog’s. The others did the same, with Neb bustling around them as if he were an innkeeper and they’d hired his whole place for the night.
He was nervous for some reason, Aldric thought.
“Put your things there, High Priestess,” Neb said to Valeria. “That’s right. They’ll be safe. Now, I’ll get a drink for everyone.”
He hurried over to a barrel near the bench, ladled water into wooden bowls, and passed them around. Priska, Stray Dog, Valeria, Bryn, and Soki accepted theirs with thanks and drank deeply, as did Aldric, parched after the day of traveling. Razmus looked at his suspiciously while Niklaus screwed his nose up and didn’t accept his bowl.
“Water?” he said contemptuously. “Where’s the beer? And how about some food while you’re at it?”
Neb pushed the bowl toward Niklaus. “Water’s all we have. When I gather the settlers to come and meet you, I’ll have them bring some food. But we—”
“Don’t have much,” finished Niklaus. He waved away the bowl. “I saw the fields of barley, and from the looks of things, you’ve been here a few years. Don’t tell me someone’s not brewing beer.”
“And how about some tea?” added Valeria primly. “A hot drink would be nice.”
“I agree,” Soki said. “It’ll chase away the cold.”
Neb backed away and returned the bowl to the bench. “I’ll get the others. I … ah …” He shuffled hurriedly out the door.
Aldric shot Niklaus a dark look. “Go easy on him. And the rest of the settlers.” He looked around at the others. “They’ve had a hard time with the Dead-eyes, let alone eking an existence out of—”
“They wanted wolves to protect their flock from other predators,” Niklaus interrupted. “And now the wolves have come to save them, they’re scared. Well, you needn’t worry—this wolf isn’t going to eat any of them. But the least they can do is feed us properly and give us something stronger than water. Am I right, Bryn? Dog?”
Stray Dog kept stacking sticks in the fireplace, but shrugged his boulder-like shoulders.
Bryn sniffed. “They’ll hide the good stuff. What do you expect? Bloody peasants.”
Bryn’s complaints were wearing thin, and Aldric caught himself reaching for his dusk-tide repository, the beginnings of a cant on his tongue. Hastily he withdrew from his power and clamped his mouth shut, horrified that his anger had caused him to lose control. And not only that: his subconscious thought had been to use sorcery against Bryn—dusk-tide sorcery. Menselas forgive me.
“They need our help,” he said instead, “but they don’t have to like us. These are people not used to violence, and they’re living in fear of the Dead-eyes. We should be reassuring them, easing their minds. Not giving them a whole new set of problems.”
Stray Dog sparked his tinder, and flames licked about the wood, causing it to crackle and steam. Smoke rose to the roof. Some disappeared out the flue, but the rest gathered in the highest point like a heavy mist.
Niklaus stared at it and sighed. “I see they didn’t bring a builder with them.”
Priska laughed, then covered her mouth with a slender hand.
Aldric realized he was still carrying all his own gear and stacked it beside the rest. The break gave him time to cool down and order his thoughts. When he’d arrived in Caronath, he hadn’t been prepared to be sent off into the wilderness with a bunch of strangers, and on a mission that grew more dubious the longer he thought about it.
A few weeks at most, he told himself. Then I’ll be done here and be back in Caronath, with Soki.
He returned to the fire to see Stray Dog had filled a battered kettle with water and placed it next to the blaze to boil. Valeria was rummaging around in her saddlebags and pulled out a metal container.
“What’s that?” asked Priska.
“Tea,” Valeria said. “I’m sure the settlers will have their own brew, likely made with local plants and wildflowers, but it’ll be harsh and probably not very tasty.” She patted Priska’s hand. “Trust me when I say mine will be much better.”
Priska smiled at Valeria, but Aldric felt a tinge of unease. Was Valeria finally thawing out toward them, or was this a front she was putting on? Even Niklaus didn’t trust her. She had to be here for the ruins.
Aldric rubbed the back of his neck, trying to stave off a rising headache. His thoughts turned, reluctantly, to Soki. She was here at the behest of his Church. Didn’t they trust him? Or were they expecting the group to encounter a threat only a powerful sorcerer could overcome? It angered him that Hannus, or Hierophant Karianne, kept him in the dark. And just when he’d been given the relic by Roald.
Stray Dog placed a few more logs on the fire, then moved the kettle closer. Niklaus wandered around the room, poking at things and sniffing at the dust. His sword was still strapped to his back, and the tip of his cane tapped the thick timber floor with each step. Priska chatted softly with Valeria and Soki about tea in its various forms, if what Aldric caught of their conversation was anything to go by. Bryn sat next to Razmus, sharpening his sword with a whetstone, while the ex-soldier mended a torn seam on a leather jerkin.
Aldric took a seat by the fire and warmed his hands.
The kettle boiled, and Stray Dog used two sticks to take it off the heat.
“Where is Neb?” asked Niklaus, now beside Aldric.
Aldric realized quite some time had passed, and the settler hadn’t returned. He stood. “I’ll go look for him.”
“Don’t bother,” Niklaus said, striding toward the door. “The sooner we get this over with, the better.”
He jerked the door open and ducked his head to avoid cracking it on the lintel. Aldric rushed after him, unsure of what Niklaus was about to do. If he barged into settlers’ houses and riled them up, it would make their job all the more difficult. Aldric needed to stop him before he made a mess of things.
Night was approaching fast, and the settlement was dark and washed out. As Aldric’s eyes adjusted to the dimness, a loud clanging assaulted his ears. Niklaus was striking the metal triangle, the beater in his hand a blur. The cacophony echoed around the settlement. Soon, Aldric heard shouts of alarm and doors banging.
“Dead-eyes!” yelled Niklaus, continuing to beat the triangle. “Dead-eyes are coming! Grab your weapons! Grab your chickens! Dead-eyes are here!”
The rest of their group filed onto the hall’s veranda. Priska and Razmus looked around nervously while Valeria smirked. Stray Dog took one look at Niklaus, shook his head, and went back inside. Bryn leaned against the wall and placed both hands over his ears.
Settlers came screaming and yelling out of their houses. Some carried children, their eyes wide with fear, while others bore flaming torches and makeshift weapons. Women dragged bundles they thought too valuable to be left behind, and some older children helped an old woman with a cane as she struggled toward the hall. A few people ran from one house to the next, shouting in alarm and peering into the forest surrounding the settlement.
A crowd came toward Niklaus, who had stopped beating the triangle. Aldric’s ears rang even after the noise ceased. More than a few of the settlers waved rust-spotted swords. Neb was with them, brandishing a staff,
alongside a man who held a dagger small enough to be used as a fruit knife.
“Is that a scythe?” asked Valeria, indicating another settler.
“I think so,” said Soki.
The skinny man waved the farm implement in the air, as if Dead-eyes had wings and he was fighting them off.
Aldric walked slowly toward the panicking mob, quietly seething at the ruckus Niklaus had caused. This was no way to introduce themselves, especially since the settlers were already wary of them. He held his hands out, palms facing them.
When they didn’t settle, he took a breath and yelled, “Quiet! Calm down! There are no Dead-eyes. It was a false alarm.”
Like water draining from a leaking pitcher, the hubbub slowly died.
Neb stepped forward, helped by a few shoves from the other settlers. “What’s going on? Where are the Dead-eyes? Who rang the alarm?”
“I did,” Niklaus said, stepping forward to stand beside Aldric. “Don’t be afraid. No Dead-eyes are here.”
“The clanger is for emergencies!” Neb shouted. “Look what you’ve done! You’ve scared everyone.”
Niklaus laughed without mirth. “We’ve come all the way from Caronath to help you, and look at you! Pants-pissers, hiding in your houses. Is that the welcome we deserve? I ring the alarm, and you run around, arms flapping.” He waved his arms wildly and laughed again.
“That’s enough!” Aldric said. “They’re right to be scared. Of the Dead-eyes and of us.”
He walked toward Neb, who was eyeing him and Niklaus and the settlers uncomfortably.
“Have everyone return to their homes,” he told the old settler. “Then bring the food you promised. It’s the least you can do.”
Neb flashed Niklaus an angry look before turning back to the crowd. “False alarm! Everyone go home. No, not you, Shand. You come with me to get some food for these … the people the Churches have sent.”
Aldric and the others watched as the settlers shuffled away, casting frequent glances over their shoulders. Soon, they’d all disappeared back into their houses. Neb was left with a slim young girl who looked to be about fourteen. Her freckled face was dirty, and her brown hair looked like it had been hacked off at the shoulders with a blunt knife.
Revenant Winds Page 29
