by David McAfee
Not good, I’ll wager.
Nona squeezed her hand, and Caelina looked down at the girl. The tiny oval face was half covered by a strip of cloth, and the rest of it was smudged with ash and soot. Her clothes were threadbare, with holes in the knees and elbows from climbing over rocks and logs. They’d been out here for two days now, and the child had not complained once, even though they hadn’t found any food and had exhausted Caelina’s meager canteen the day before.
The cloth over their noses was Caelina’s idea. She had torn them from the hem of her tunic. The ash cloud had lessened, but it had not disappeared. The air was thick with tiny black particles, hanging in the air like sinister motes of dust. Caelina knew what those particles could do to living things that tried to breathe them in. All around the mountain lay the carcasses of animals, their nostrils caked with ash. Caelina didn’t trust any of them as food, so she left them where they fell, though it was getting harder and harder to do so.
Sooner or later, we are going to have to eat one, she thought. She just hoped they weren’t poisoned.
“There’s another one,” Nona said, pointing at a dead deer lying half buried in a pile of ash.
“I see it,” Caelina said. “It’s a big one, isn’t it?” This particular animal was indeed large, with a strong rack that would have made any hunter happy. Now it was just a charred corpse in a desolate, dead forest. Caelina couldn’t help but wonder what her own body would look like when she fell. They’d passed the bodies of several people already. Most of them were probably bandits hiding out in the forest when the eruption occurred, but she couldn’t help but wonder how many of them were from Pompeii. Fleeing for their lives as their city suffocated.
She tried to push the thought from her head. She couldn’t die. Nona needed her. She had failed Filo and Gareth. She would not fail Nona. She could not. She would die first.
In which case, she thought, you will have failed her anyway.
Caelina stepped over a charred maple trunk, still trying to banish the thought from her mind. Nona followed behind, nimbly scaling the dead tree as only an eight-year-old child could.
Such spirit, Caelina thought. She wished she could match the girl’s enthusiasm.
Nona had not stopped talking since they left the cave. She talked about her father and her life before he died. She talked about Caelina, and asked about Gareth and Filo. She asked where they would live and if they would have horses and a garden where they would grow vegetables and fruits. She wondered aloud what it would be like to be a squirrel or a crow or a fish or any number of animals. At one point, she even asked if she was talking too much.
Caelina had told her no, of course. In truth, she enjoyed the constant chatter. It made the still, quiet landscape somehow more bearable, and it distracted her from the likely reality that they would probably both be dead before either of them ever saw a living, breathing horse again.
They spent the day walking. Sometimes the sun would peek through the dark gray ash, but most of the time its light came to them muted and filtered, bringing no warmth or life to the area around them. On those occasions when the sun did break through, the contrast of light versus gray only seemed to make the bleak landscape that much darker, and Caelina found herself wishing the thin beams of sunlight would go away.
As hungry as she was, what she really needed was water. She could go a week without food, perhaps more, but after only one and a half days without water, she was feeling the effects of dehydration. So was Nona, who had quieted over the last few hours and had begun to walk more slowly than before. She had only brought one canteen with her to Vesuvius, not realizing she would end up taking shelter there for a day or more.
But then, who could have foreseen the eruption?
Vesuvius had erupted before, but never like this. There had been several quakes in recent weeks, and everyone expected the mountain would erupt soon, but no one could have suspected the scope of what was to come. The complete destruction of the surrounding countryside was a thought that had never occurred to anyone, least of all Caelina, who had been so focused on finding her son that she would have walked right into a pool of boiling lava if his trail led to it.
Caelina tried to banish Filo from her mind, but she could not. Whatever had happened to him, at least he was spared this. She found herself hoping his death had at least been quick, and chastising herself for thinking such a thing. Caelina wanted to cry, but her body had no water left for anything so frivolous as tears. In any case, tears would only frighten Nona and that would just make things worse.
“What’s that?” Nona asked.
“What?” Caelina replied.
“That noise. Don’t you hear it?”
Caelina listened, but she heard nothing. The earth was still and silent, slowly suffocating under a blanket of gray death. The ash muffled all sound, not that there was much to be heard. Even the wind had died, leaving the oppressive heat and thickness of the air to hang over them throughout the day.
Then Caelina realized she did hear something, after all. It sounded almost like…
“Horses,” Nona said. “And people!”
She was right. In the distance, Caelina heard the distinct whinnying of a horse and several muffled voices talking to each other. She could not hear what was being said, but the tones sounded depressed. She strained, trying to discern the words, but she could not.
“I think they are coming from that way,” Nona said, excited. “I bet they have water!” She jumped down from a tree and tried to run toward the sounds. Caelina tried to grab her arms and hold her back, but she missed.
“Nona,” she said. “Wait!”
But the child was off, running thorough the ash and trees, and Caelina had no choice but to run after her.
“Nona,” she called ahead, trying to reason with the girl. “We don’t know who they are. They could be bad people.”
If Nona heard, she paid no heed. Soon the voices grew clearer and the horses grew louder. Here and there, Caelina caught the sounds of swords and leather. No fighting, though. She supposed that was a good sign. As she ran, she began to notice small bits of green through the ashes. Some of the plants in this area had escaped destruction. She even passed under a maple that still had some of its leaves. She would have loved to stop and investigate this, but Nona was still running forward. Caelina could barely see her now, as the child had outdistanced her by a wide margin.
Then a shape loomed out of the darkness ahead of the girl. A man. Nona ran into him, crashing into his body with a grunt. The man reached down and picked her up. Caelina thought she heard him chuckle. It looked like Nona was struggling.
“What do we have here?” a man’s voice said, thick and gravelly.
No! She pulled her knife and charged, shouting for the man to put the girl down. The man looked up and saw her just in time to step aside, dodging her knife as easily as if she was a novice. Caelina’s hunger and lack of water were working against her. She was slow. Uncoordinated. Her thoughts were thick and heavy, and she could not quite trust her eyesight. Still, she could not let Nona come to harm. She would die first.
She whirled around, holding her knife at her side. She held it so the blade faced down, sharp side out, as her husband had taught her. She brought her left fist up to protect her face. The scarf was interfering with her breathing, so she ripped it off and assumed an offensive posture.
“Put her down,” Caelina commanded. “Or I will gut you where you stand.”
The man paused. “Caelina?”
“How…how do you know my name?” Caelina asked. She took a closer look at him, and for the first time realized he was dressed in the uniform of the city guard. She looked to Nona, who was smiling. Had the girl really been struggling? Or was it only Caelina’s imagination?
“It’s me,” the man said. “Weilus.”
“Weilus? Weilus!” Caelina dropped the knife and ran forward, wrapping her arms around the guardsman. Weilus was a guard under Gareth’s command. They were no
t friends, not really, but at least he was honorable. That was more than she could have hoped for.
“What are you doing out here?” Weilus asked.
“I…we,” Caelina stammered. How could she tell him everything? She didn’t even know where to begin.
“Do you have any water?” Nona asked, saving her from having to explain. For now, anyway.
“Of course,” he said, pulling a large water skin from his belt. He set Nona on the ground and handed her the skin. “Here, take as much as you like, but drink slowly or you’ll get cramps.”
Nona pulled the strip of cloth from her face and brought the water skin to her lips. She took a long, slow drink, then handed the skin to Caelina, who tilted it back and almost cried when the cool, clear liquid poured into her parched throat.
Water had never tasted so good.
“What of the city?” Caelina asked as she handed the skin back. “How much is left?”
“Pompeii is gone.” Weilus’s face darkened. “Buried under the ash.”
“Buried? Completely?”
He nodded. “According to the few survivors we have found, many people watched the mountain explode and thought it was a grand show. They stood in the streets in awe, smiling and laughing until the moment the ash started to fall. It came in waves. After the first wave, people realized they needed to leave, but by then it was too late. The second wave piled the ash up over the rooftops of almost every building in the city. The third wave covered the rest of them. After that, every other wave merely added to the pile. At this point, we could dig for days and probably not reach a single dwelling.”
“And…the people?”
“Dead, most of them. We’ve gotten reports that Herculaneum suffered the same fate. No word from any of the other cities near the mountain’s base, but the ash seems to have spread mostly to the south. North of Vesuvius, the land is clear.”
Caelina thought back to the cave. It had been on the southeastern slope. She shuddered to think if they had been just a bit further south. She and Nona would likely be dead by now.
“And Gareth?” she asked, her voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear the question herself.
Weilus’s grim demeanor lessened. He even smiled. “He lives. In fact, he is here somewhere. He will be very happy to see you, I suspect.”
Caelina could scarcely believe it. Gareth was alive? “How?”
“We were out looking for you when Vesuvius erupted. We followed your trail to the southeastern slope and that’s where we were when it happened. It just missed us.”
Caelina’s face drooped, and she eyed her shoes. The soldiers were out looking for her. How many people could they have saved had they stayed in the city? Again, her obsession had hurt others, perhaps even killed them. How could she live with herself after this?
“What is it?” Weilus asked.
“Please,” she said. “Just take me to Gareth.”
“With pleasure,” he replied.
He led them through more dead woods, but here and there were signs of life. The destruction wasn’t as bad this far north of Vesuvius. The sky was dark and the air was thick with ash and soot, but she had only to turn to the south to see that it could be worse. She said as much to Weilus, who nodded.
“We have spoken to people who came directly from the city,” he said. “They all report the same thing: the sky is black. The air is hot and unbreathable, like walking into a sandstorm. The ash chokes the life from anything or anyone unfortunate enough to breathe it in. Those cloths over your noses were a great idea, by the way. They probably kept you alive. The refugees stopped coming sometime in the night. It is my guess that any stragglers are long dead. The last few who came to our camp said the entire city was buried in hot, burning ash. It is from them we learned of the city’s fate.”
He shook his head sadly. “Pompeii is dead.”
If I had stayed in the city, Caelina realized, I would be dead, too. Likewise, Nona would likely be dead. Galle had been about to kill her when Caelina found them. Thinking of Galle brought another question to mind.
“What about Jarek? Has anyone seen him?”
Weilus eyed her, seeming surprised by the question. Then he snapped his fingers. “That’s right,” he said. “You were gone. You couldn’t know.”
“Know what?” she asked.
“Jarek is dead. Killed by bandits the same night you left the city.”
“Dead?” He’d seemed alive enough in the caves. But then, what did she know? Were the Bachiyr alive? She wasn’t sure. But she had no intention of discussing it with Weilus. “By bandits? In the middle of Pompeii? It’s unusual for them to be so bold, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but that’s not the most unusual part,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Someone stole his corpse, killing two guardsmen in the process.”
“Who would do such a thing?” she asked, though she knew the truth already.
“We don’t know. And the gods have not granted us the time to find out.”
Good. Gods willing, he and Galle were gone forever. She could only hope.
They arrived in a makeshift camp. There were plenty of soldiers moving to and fro, as well as two dozen or so civilians. The civilians looked lost, as well they might. Their homes were gone, most of their families were probably dead. True, at least they were alive, but at what price?
Caelina could relate.
On the far side of the camp stood Gareth, unmistakable in his Captain’s uniform, even dingy and covered in soot.
“Captain!” Weilus called, a smile on his face.
Gareth turned, and froze. His eyes locked on to Caelina’s. For a moment, nothing happened, then he started forward.
“Caelina!” he shouted, and broke into a run.
“I’m so sorry, Gareth,” she said when he reached her. She expected him to chastise her about running off by herself, or to swear at her for scaring him. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, his shoulders bobbing slightly. It took her a moment to realize he was crying, something she had never seen him do. Not even when Filo disappeared.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispered. “I…after Filo, I…and then the city was gone and everyone was dead. I thought you…you…”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “If you were not out looking for me, you could have saved more of them.”
“No, Caelina,” he replied, releasing her. He took a step back and looked into her eyes. She saw the moisture there, and her cheeks burned. It was her fault he had so unmanned himself in front of his men. Although he truly didn’t seem to care.
“If we had been in the city,” he said, “we would all be dead. It is only because we were out looking for you that my men and I are alive and able to help at all. We’ve given water and food to hundreds who lost everything. Because of you, we were here to help. Because of you, these people survived.”
“No, you are the ones who helped them,” she replied. “I was just looking for Filo.”
“I’m sorry I said he was dead,” Gareth said.
“No, you were right. I just didn’t want to admit it.”
For the first time, Gareth seemed to realize they were not alone. He straightened up and backed away, but not before he kissed her. Caelina hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his tenderness until that moment, and when he went to pull away, she grabbed his shoulders and held him to her, wanting the kiss to last as long as possible.
It turned out to be Nona who broke the spell. She stepped up to Gareth and poked him in the ribs.
Gareth broke off and looked down at her. Nona stared back at him, a small smile on her face.
“Who is this?” Gareth asked, smiling back.
“My name is Nona,” the girl said.
“Well, Nona, my name is—”
“Gareth,” Nona said. “I know. You’re Caelina’s husband. You seem nice. I think you’ll make a great new father. Is there anything to eat? I’m so hungry I could eat an entire horse.”
With that, Nona skipped into the camp, leaving Gareth to stare after her, his jaw hanging open.
“New father?” he asked, turning toward Caelina.
“We will talk about it later,” she said, and grabbed his hand. “But she is right. I’m starved. Is there any food?”
“Plenty,” he replied, his smile reflected in his eyes. “The game animals were so scared of Vesuvius that many of them barreled into our camp without fear. After our initial surprise, we were able to take down quite a few.”
“Shall we follow her, then?” Caelina asked, pointing toward where Nona had disappeared into the small camp.
“Indeed,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Let’s go.”
Hand in hand, the two walked into the camp.
Epilogue
TARAS and Baella stood in her own version of Theron’s laboratory. Instead of rough stone walls and strange sigils all over the chamber, this room was appointed with several large wooden tables, jars of exotic ingredients, and dozens and dozens of thick, ancient texts, some of which predated the Council of Thirteen, or so she claimed.
And everywhere he looked, Taras saw blood. Baella had mastered the art of preserving blood for use in various psalms, and she kept this room well stocked with hundreds of tiny vials very similar to the ones Theron had employed in Vesuvius. The blood was useless for feeding, of course. Only fresh blood could sustain a Bachiyr, but still, having numerous sources of blood readily available for other tasks was a valuable asset.
At first, he had balked at the sight, but Baella assured him that all the blood had been given to her voluntarily by her many human minions.
“They serve me because they adore power,” she said. “They know I can give it to them.”
