“Maybe at first, but realize that the saying tells how compassion and understanding will treat you, not people.”
Blaze laughed. “But, people are the ones who can give those.”
“Not the only ones.” A stiff silence fell; both knew she was referring to the True King. Their friendship was at odds with so many of Blaze’s beliefs. But somehow, Tawnya circumvented Blaze’s prejudices and became like a sister to her.
The village of Srift was introduced by the clanging in Seth’s smithy to their right and the morning greetings of Fisher and Glenda to their left.
“That dress looks mighty fine on you,” Fisher’s old voice wobbled out. The true Elders of Srift enjoyed the morning in rocking chairs outside of their cabin.
Tawnya curtsied. “I’ve never worn a dress of such fine creation.”
“Don’t lie just because the old woman is here,” Glinda snipped. “I don’t need coddling to the grave.”
“Oh no!” Tawnya’s eyes widened. “Please, it is sincerely a great dress.”
Glenda waved her bony hand as the Fisher chuckled. “Thank you, dear. Come by this afternoon, and I’ll make an equal seamstress out of you. Oh, and Blaze, you can come, too. If you care.”
Blaze nodded in acknowledgement of the invitation. Glenda was simply being nice, but Blaze would disappoint the elder with her apathy for fabric. “Thank you, but I will be helping Evan.” She silently thanked the pub owner for getting her out of two unsavory events.
The group gave their farewells, and the young women continued into the square. Srift, a small village of seventy three, was a dead end shaped like a carrot. The east-traveling road that connected Srift to the rest of Lesira entered the widest part of the village, designated the Square. Tawnya and Blaze entered the Square from its south side. Shops and sheds lined the Square, leaving enough room for the whole village to gather for celebrations or meetings. The far side closed to a single path that wound through the remaining shops and cabins. To the friends’ back, Bear Mountain sheltered the village from the Cliffs.
Srift slowly woke up as kids were chased out to do chores, and shopkeepers prepared the day’s goods. “Good morning Tawnya, Blaze,” called a twenty-cycled man from his produce stand. Tawnya’s face brightened as a soft blush kissed her cheeks. Blaze laughed and lead the way to merchant, knowing full well that the two would love to talk to each other.
“Good morning, Mark!” Tawnya sang. “How are the gardens growing?”
“Oh ho! With all of this rain we’ve been having, the plants seem to be growing a foot a day! I haven’t seen so many blooms in my life. This is going to be the best season yet if the weather keeps this attitude.”
“Thank the King!” Tawnya clapped. “Mother can’t wait to get Rick’s famous strawberries for her turnovers.”
Mark pretended to go weak at the knees, bracing himself against the table of vegetable sprouts and leaned closer to her friend. He folded her hands in his tan ones and leaned closer. “Please, do not remind me of such opulence until my ravenous craving can be silenced by the referenced unspeakable!”
Tawnya’s face softened with pity as she reached her delicate hand out to brush his smooth cheek. “My poor sir. I shall never call upon you such torture again.”
“The maiden is kind.” Mark rejoiced while quickly straightening and threw his fists into the air in celebration. His dark brown, wavy hair jumped for joy as well. Both laughed in merriment as Blaze continued on to the bakery, unable to help the smile that brimmed her face. She wondered why they were taking so long to marry, but she remembered that Traitors valued certain traditions.
Linda’s bakery tempted Srift with its indulgent scents from the middle of the Square. As she reached Linda’s door, Evan stepped out of his pub, The Bear, from across the street and called to her in his Krute accent. “Ah! Blaze. Good, I was hopin’ ta run inta you before tonight. Why don’ you come inside.” He smiled, extending his hand after opening the door to show her in.
“What is it?” The hair on the back of her neck stood. Evan’s smile failed to cover his nervousness and shifting eyes, nor his disheveled look. When handling a raging drunk, the tall bulky redhead had no match, but the simple, honest man could not hide his emotions.
Still trying to hold his wavering smile, he urged her quickly into the pub. Once inside, the stench of urine, beer, and vomit challenged Blaze’s seasoned nose. She set about opening the wooden shudders that surrounded the tavern, letting more light and fresh air into the dark, rank room.
“No no no!”
Blaze jumped back at Evans shout and whipped out the dagger that was nestled securely in her waistband, searching for the danger. However, Evan, with his hands waving and a terrified look on his face, was the only threat. He relaxed and the terror subsided into a second thought. “Well, that might be okay. Ay, that will. Keep openin’ up,” he said.
“Evan. What’s wrong?” Blaze urged while replacing the blade. “Why are you acting like this? What happened in here?” The pub was in complete disarray.
“Jus keep openin’ the shudders ta let this sickenin’ smell out, and speak quietly.” He started to busy himself by grabbing a rag and wiping down the grimy bar. “I understan’ if you don’ want ta work tonight.”
“Evan...”
“I do. I don’ wan you ta think that I don’ look after you...”
“Evan.”
“Or your friends...”
“Evan!”
“In fact, why don’ you take the night off?”
“EVAN!”
He took a deep breath and raise his hands in defense. In exhale, his whole body collapsed to slouch on the bar, and his onyx eyes avoided hers by studying the worn oak.
“Evan.” Blaze began to catch his nervousness. She leaned on the bar in front of him.
His voice lowered to a gruff whisper. “Blaze, late las night, I was woken up by a whole troop of Urlificans wantin’ a place ta stay. They demanded that I open the pub for ‘em ta drink and give ‘em my best rooms. They are next door right now, snorin’ away.” Disgust contorted his round face.
Blaze stepped back as the shock of what he said descended upon her. “Urlificans in Srift? What possessed them to come way out there?” Srift was too small of a place for an entire troop to come for a visit.
She understood Evan’s dread. Both of them rejected the True King as sovereign, but the lack of Urlifican attention made Srift a haven for the inhabitant Traitors. Jonathan, Seth, Tawnya’s parents, and Mark’s father all controlled or heavily contributed to Srift’s medicine, iron work, dairy, bread, and plant products. Srift would be lost without their crafts, so they were tolerated.
Blaze turned toward Linda’s bakery, but Evan grabbed her arm. “Blaze. I don’ want you workin’ tonight because of your opinions of these soldiers. I also think that a Dinner is comin’ up, yes?”
“Which is why I’m going to warn Linda,” Blaze answered. “And I am not going to leave you to handle these goo...” He tightened his grip in warning as two light knocks rapped on the door. They froze, looking at the wooden barricade. The knocks repeated themselves. Blaze twisted her arm free and rushed to open the door. “I’m sorry, but...”
The shock of who stood before her silenced her. Two men adorned in Urlifican uniforms stood one behind the other. The furthest away wore the high ranking Grand General’s black cloak and hat accented by crimson leather. The other, who had knocked, was dressed in the Junior Officer’s red tunic and black leather pants.
And, he looked just like Tray.
“I thought you were dead.” The thought escaped her lips in a whisper, and confusion flashed across on the officer’s face.
“Excuse me?” his voice rumbled in a baritone, not Tray’s voice.
She willed her shock away and tried to gain control of herself. “I’m...I am sorry, sirs, but we are closed until midday.” She tried to sound convincing, but her entirety crackled with distress. She couldn’t look away from the man. His hazel eyes were
flecked with gold; his auburn hair cut short and uniform. His oval face was characterized by thin lips, obvious cheek bones, even nose, and crested eyebrows. The face was thinner and the eyes were deeply set, but he looked just like the man who tried to save her family from that long harbored nightmare so many cycles ago.
He assumed an official air and continued on. “Yes, well, this is Grand General Kent of Urlifec’s Superior Forces, and I am Junior Officer Burdock. We wished to talk to the owner of this pub about our accommodations and intentions.”
Evan was in no condition to talk to these men; he would either get himself or some one else arrested.
Before she knew what she was saying, Blaze declared, “I’m the owner.”
The Junior Officer’s face flashed in alarm at the statement but quickly reassumed his neutral expression. Grand General Kent, on the other hand, didn’t bat an eye at the unusual claim of a woman owning a pub. His dark fox eyes and frozen demeanor coldly studied her as if he could see through her lie. Goose bumps riveted her arms.
“Really? I thought Evan was the owner,” Burdock inquired.
The goose bumps turned into bristles as the shock of the Urlificans wore off. Blaze wanted these vile men gone so she could warn her friends. “I’m sorry, sir, that you were lead to assume that. But I am the owner.” She narrowed her eyes and started back at the Grand General. “However, I’m afraid that the pub is in no condition to contain any form of life right now, and we really have a lot to do before we are ready for business. If you would be so kind as to give us until this afternoon, we would be at your mercy.” An old rage stretched inside of her, making it difficult to conceal the bite in her words.
Burdock looked back to Kent, his hand lightly resting on the sword at his side. The Grand General nodded ever so slightly, and the Junior Officer turned back toward her, balling his fist over his heart and pounding. “Very well, to the powerful.” Kent silently mimicked Burdock’s gesture, and both waited with fists over heart for Blaze to finish the affirmation of loyalty.
Her hand wouldn’t move, and her jaw was frozen shut. She would die before pledging loyalty to that accursed king, but she would be called a Traitor if she neglected to respond. Suddenly, she thought of Obrae and smiled. Lifting her open hand to her heart, she finished, “To the protector,” and as she hastily closed the door, she muttered, “May you rot.”
********
The girl seemed to put a little too much force behind shutting the pub door, Burdock thought, but it could have been in the urgency to clean up the mess his men had left. He and the Grand General turned and sauntered down the road, watching the small village awaken. Burdock couldn’t shake a nagging feeling about the girl; there was something that alarmed him. Could she be a Traitor? She acted on edge. Once her shock wore off, her fierce green eyes ignited with some sort of drive. What unnerved him the most was her near inaudible statement when she saw him.
I thought you were dead...
Did he know her? How did she know him? Why would she think him dead? He flew through every person he remembered meeting. There was something familiar about her, but the connection felt like a slight breeze swirling around him. One where he would have to wet his finger and hold it to the sky to better feel the invisible motion.
“What’s puzzling you, son?” came the Grand General’s quite voice.
Burdock took a while to focus his thoughts. “Sir, something doesn’t sit well with me...”
Kent waited for the Junior Officer to continue.
“Do you think she is a Traitor?” Burdock asked, figuring that was the best place to start.
“What would make you think that?”
Burdock sighed, half in frustration of Kent’s bad habit of answering a question with another, and half because he didn’t think she was. “I don’t know. Her salutation was hesitant and strange. She was abrasive, up-tight, and defensive. Obviously did not like us.”
“And yet, you do not believe that she is a Traitor.”
“No.”
Srift grew quite as they passed, and Burdock felt like a wolf among sheep in his uniform. The fear and respect the Urlifican attire awarded him was elevating; however, all of the Traitors would see him coming from across the village. “Grand General, must we wear our uniforms? I mean, I wear our lord’s colors proudly, but will we achieve anything by pronouncing ourselves so indiscreetly?”
The slightest grin shifted the Grand General’s mustache. “In a village of this stature and location, we will always be the intruders among the familiar. We are a troop of men who carry nothing with us but supplies, so our true identities would be discovered just as quickly with or without the obviousness of our dress. I want the Traitors to be nervous. To know that your enemy is present makes you wary; to see him so plainly in front of you makes you nervous.”
“And nervous people make changes and mistakes.”
Kent nodded his head. They walked beyond the end of town where a solitary hut sat, its front containing a decrepit old man scowling from his worn chair. Kent stopped and turned toward his Junior Officer. “Go back and ready the men to search for the Traitors. It’s about time that the drunks get moving. I also wish for you to learn more about this girl, for she raises suspicions in me as well.”
Burdock stiffened and bowed to the Grand General. Upon straightening, his fist pounded his chest. “To the powerful.”
Kent pounded his chest in response, “To King Urlifec.” Then, he reached out to pat the Junior Officer’s shoulder. Burdock looked into the face of the man who raised him, a tall, paled, thin man who wore a peppered goatee and calculating countenance. While he didn’t at first appear threatening, Kent held a hidden strength and speed combined with a dangerous wit that made him deadly when challenged. Burdock had seen the Grand General make men twice his size cry, and whole Families of Traitors would quake in his presence alone.
As Kent approached the old man, Burdock took his leave and listened as his revered mentor began his suave questioning.
“Good morning, Elder.”
“Heh, bout time someone spoke up ‘round here and addressed me with respect.”
“You are not treated well, sir? Our king would be most displeased to hear of an Elder being treated as such.”
“Humph! And what king do you follow?”
“Why, his highest majesty, King Urlifec, may his reign be eternal. Are there those here who follow another king?”
The old man laughed a wheezing choke. “The question is who don’t follow a different king.”
********
Crouching under the open widow, Blaze watched as the Urlificans continued down the road. She would probably pay for her lie and disrespect, but the monsters diminished her power to act decently.
“Blaze, wha have you done?”
Evan’s whisper nearly made her jump out the window. Whirling around, she found him sitting in an chair, staring at his defeated rag on the soiled table. The pub was ransacked. Chairs and tables were upturned. Broken, half filled, and empty glasses littered all surfaces along with splashes of dried beer, nut shells, and vomit. Her waking beast of rage was starting to growl. “Evan, how many of those monsters are in this troop?”
Evan gaped at his precious pub. “Ten....ten people did all of this.” Then, his eyes zeroed in on Blaze. “Blaze, wha have you done? Wha did you tell ‘em? That you owned this place?”
She stood up from her crouch and wiped the dust from her hands. Taking a deep breath, she vented some frustration with the exhale. “Evan, you are in no state to be questioned by them at the moment.” His eyes flashed as the bear inside of him bristled.
Before he raged forward, she continued. “Look, it was the first thing that came to my head to get them away. I need to go across the street to Linda’s to warn them, and you need to go in the back room and try to catch some sleep. I will come back here and clean this place up in time to open this afternoon and handle their questions. In the mean time, please try to forget that they are Urlificans. Nervousne
ss will get us all into trouble.”
She began to pace back and forth. “I will stay here until they leave Srift to make the lie seem more real. And, to help you out. Martha and Sue should be in tonight to help, but Ezel will be sent straight home if she shows up. That smacker will ruin everything if she gets just one sip of ale.” The plan formed as she said it, and the presence of it calmed both of them.
Evan’s exhaustion deflated him, and he gave in without a fight. He grunted as he got up, and his eyes were already closing, ready to dismiss the chaos around him for a nightmare. “Okay, Blaze. We will see where this goes.” He shuffled to his living quarters in the back.
Blaze peered through the window to observe the Urlificans’ progression. They headed out of town, straight for Jonathan’s. Cautiously opening the door, she made sure none of the other soldiers were around and bolted to Linda’s bakery.
The moment she closed the door behind her, Blaze was tackled in an excited hug. Tawnya’s frail appearance didn’t dampen the exuberance of her motion, forcing Blaze to twirl in the girl’s elated spin.
“Oh Blaze, Blaze, Blaze!” she sang. “You’ll not believe how great this day has gotten!” She giggled as she mercifully stopped and held her friend at arm’s length. Blaze had never seen such a big smile on her face and was stung by the though of her news making it melt away. “Mark asked me if we could declare ourselves at the Dinner tomorrow night!” She clapped her hands and laughed as she spun herself around. “I can’t believe it! At long last! Oh Blaze, you have to be there. I want you to be my sister.”
Blaze balked. Her friend’s joy swirled bitterly with her own despair and urgency to warn the Traitors.
“Blaze, you look like a chicken that has been hypnotized. What do you think?”
“Well...I...I...” her heart thudded as her mind tumbled and twisted into a black abyss of confusion.
“And Tawnya, you’re forgetting someone,” came Linda’s motherly voice.
Traitors (The Traitor King Saga Book 1) Page 4
