The Child Guard

by Lorcan Montgomery

  They passed the better part of a week in the same routine, which began to feel as familiar to Kane as the strict schedule of the Citadel. The organised fields of livestock dwindled and faded, leaving only moorland with a few scrubby sheep dotted around here and there.

  Kane realised on one day he hadn’t seen a single other soul on the road aside from those who were travelling with him. The thought was eerie and disquieting, and it was not improved as they came across a series of neat graves dug just off the roadside, the earth on them still fresh and unsettled. Down a beaten track into a small dell more ruins were visible, and the smell of charring in the air indicated they would be even fresher than the ones which had so discomforted Kane on his first night. The sign hastily painted over with lime could still be read underneath, faded letters spelling out ‘Ashden’, and Kane noted it on the back of his orders, lest he forget the destroyed village and its inhabitants, the reason for their fight and the victims of their hated enemies.

  Despite telling himself every day this would be the day when his stomach settled itself enough to let him drink the Elixir again without throwing it up, if not with actual enjoyment; Kane found himself surreptitiously getting rid of the stuff every evening. There was a certain thrill to it, the race to avoid getting caught by any of the more pious members of the group. When he did tip the Elixir away, though, Kane always avoided looking across at Cahaya. For some reason, her blank, white stare made him feel exposed and guilty in a way Sampson’s fierce scowls never could.

  8. Woodedge

  “You are a Child Guard. You have the power of the Citadel behind you when you throw your weight, but you also have the name of the Citadel over your head when you hold your chin up. Your sole purpose is to serve the gods with valour, with righteousness and with honour. Don’t disgrace the uniform.”

  General Cathan

  Late one afternoon, without much ceremony, they reached the town of Woodedge, so named because it sat right up against the forest which had once been Sidhe territory, now reclaimed in the name of the king of Cruach. The town lived and breathed the rhythm of the Border Guards’ patrols, for the presence of those flinty-eyed veterans discouraged whatever lawless elements would naturally be attracted to a town bordering a forest that could hide any outlaw for a lifetime. And besides, it was known soldiers always had good money to spend, even if in the case of the Child Guard it was only on room and board.

  Woodedge was bustling but not overcrowded when they arrived, it being one of the interim times between visits from the Border Guard. Kane had been half-hoping to see familiar uniforms, if not faces, and he was mildly disappointed only civilians were wandering the streets, browsing market stalls and watching street performers ply their trade to amuse the children. There was a juggler by the gate, and Kane gaped at his skill before he recovered his composure and led them onwards with purpose. They stopped in the middle of the town square, a scrubby patch of dirt with a plain well in the centre, and Kane turned to face his troops.

  “The rest of the day is yours to do with as you will,” he said. “Sampson, procure us some rooms at the inn; as I understand it they are very used to hosting travelling soldiers so it shouldn’t be an issue. Don’t go too far, don’t get into trouble, and I’ll see you back at the inn in time for dinner this evening. You are dismissed.”

  Terrell strode off almost before Kane had finished speaking, intent on some errand of his own. Davena, Sophia and Cahaya left as a group, the healer and the professor talking of herbs they might pick up at the apothecary, with Cahaya sitting complacently atop her pony behind them. Only Eder and Sampson remained behind, and when Eder meandered off to look at the contents of a market stall, Sampson sidled over to Kane.

  “Is this wise?” he asked, without preamble.

  “Is what wise, Immaculatus Sampson?” Kane had been expecting Sampson to take issue with his plan.

  “We could continue for another few hours yet, and camp further along the road. I see no reason to delay our mission with frivolities in this backwater.”

  “After Woodedge our road leads into the Borderlands,” Kane said. “It is said that when the wind blows strong from the forest of Ciaradh it is enough to drive a man to madness, I have no wish to forge on into those lands without first fortifying my squad.”

  “Wasting time and browsing market stalls for frivolities is hardly going to fortify them,” Sampson scoffed. “We have the strength of our faith and our virtue to be our shield.”

  “And I leave that aspect of our protection in your capable hands, Immaculatus,” Kane said. “However, I would much rather enter the Borderlands after a solid night’s sleep, rather than at the end of a long day.”

  “I will spend the evening in prayer, then,” Sampson declared. “The better to strengthen your resolve to continue along our road.”

  With that he swept imperiously off towards the large inn on the corner. Kane glared after him, robbed of the opportunity to get the last word in, stinging from the tone of contempt in Sampson’s voice. He sighed, unclenched his hands which had involuntarily balled into fists, and went to see what Eder was up to.

  Eder was loitering between a jeweller’s stall and an armourer’s workshop, looking intently at the wares displayed on the jeweller’s deep blue cloth. Kane strolled up to him, and Eder was so focused on what he was looking at that he didn’t notice.

  “Find anything nice?” Kane asked, and Eder jumped a good inch into the air.

  “I was looking at arrowheads,” Eder said, a blush creeping up into his cheeks. “They’re well made, but I’ve probably got enough for the time being.”

  Kane looked at him for a long moment, and decided it wasn’t worth calling Eder on his obvious lie. It was probably a sin of vanity to wear necklaces, which would explain why his friend was looking so sheepish and awkward. Far be it from him to accuse someone else of sin or vice when for a week now he had been rejecting the gift of the gods.

  “That’s fair,” he said. “Do you want to go and look at the juggler?”

  Eder smiled at him, more from relief than anything else, and began to nod, before pausing to think.

  “Are you sure we’re allowed? Isn’t it a sin to perform before crowds?”

  “That’s his problem,” Kane said. “Come on, he’ll be gone by the time you’ve figured out the theology of it all.”

  Eder still seemed like he might argue further, but Kane grabbed his wrist and dragged him along, out of the square and down the street to where they had seen the man in bright clothes juggling before a group of children.

  The man was, thankfully, still there, and as they came to a halt, he added an extra ball to the cycle, making the children in front of him gape in awe. Eder shook his arm out of Kane’s grip and straightened the sleeve of his shirt.

  “Please don’t do that again,” he whispered. “What if someone saw?”

  “I was only hauling you along to make you hurry up,” Kane said. “What’s the harm?”

  “It’s against the rules.”

  “Oh, come off it, Eder, the only people who know that for miles around here are you and me and the gaggle coming along with us. Besides, I don’t see why I shouldn’t grab your arm if it helps you keep up.”

  “It is a little odd,” Eder said, thoughtfully, before pulling himself up short. “But ours is not to question the gods, of course.”

  It was all Kane could do not to roll his eyes, and he focused instead on the hypnotic motion of the balls speeding through the air.

  “You and Terrell have been spending an awful lot of time together,” Eder said, eventually.

  “His company is better than Sampson’s,” Kane shrugged. “We’ve all been spending a lot of time together, when you think about it. I suppose that’s how it is on the road.”

  “It looks like you’ve been picking up each other’s bad habits, too,” Eder’s voice was quiet and calm, but Kane felt a chill run up his spine.

  “I don’t eat nearly as much as he does, I honestly don’t kn
ow where he puts it-“ Kane began, but Eder interrupted him.

  “Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Kane, we’ve known each other long enough for you to do me that courtesy, haven’t we? I know about you and Terrell and the Elixir.”

  The juggler tried to add a seventh ball to the cycle, fumbled, and everything fell, the cloth sacks sending up little puffs of dust as they hit the dirt like missiles. Kane stared at them as long as he could, before he finally looked up at Eder. He had been expecting an accusatory look, but his friend just looked weary and upset.

  “You know, for a while I thought it was me you were whispering about,” Eder sighed. “Because I’ve learned over the years that it usually is me that people are whispering about. But I thought you wouldn’t do that, you wouldn’t keep things from me, because we’re friends, right?”

  “I thought you’d tell Sampson,” Kane said, kicking idly at the dust. “I thought you’d be upset and you’d tell him and we’d get in trouble.”

  “Like I’d do that to you,” Eder replied. “I don’t like it, and I’ve been praying for you since I knew for sure what you were doing, but you’ve been my friend for fourteen years, I wouldn’t snitch on you to Sampson. You still didn’t need to keep secrets from me.”

  “How did you find out? For sure, I mean?”

  “In future, when you’re tipping away the elixir of the gods, Kane, consider the gradient of the hill you’re on,” Eder said pointedly. “It’s very disconcerting having a warm wet feeling on one’s behind and knowing one hasn’t caused it.”

  Kane couldn’t help himself and laughed. Eder tried to keep his look of mild disapproval, but the giggles quickly became infectious and it wasn’t long before they were both helpless with laughter. The juggler started again, less ambitiously, although the children were torn between attending to his show and staring at the two chuckling Child Guard behind them.

  Eventually, they staggered away after a particularly sharp glare from the performer, who was losing his audience’s attention to the mirthful display. Kane was breathless, and had a stitch forming in his side, but as he took big gulps of air, he straightened up and felt the pain recede.

  “So, if you don’t mind my asking,” Eder said, suppressing a final giggle, “what on earth possessed you to give up the Elixir? I never had you pegged for a heretic.”

  “I’m not,” Kane replied, defensively. “The smell of it knocks me sick and I couldn’t keep my food down for a few nights, so I’m temporarily giving it up so I can march.”

  “The smell of it knocks everyone sick, Kane, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re forsaking the gift of the gods. Temporarily or not,” Eder’s face was back to its usual quiet seriousness, no trace of amusement remaining. “We’re going to be heading into the Borderlands soon, right? Don’t you think it’s a bit dangerous to be in that territory without the protection the Elixir gives you against… you know… them?”

  That was the one thing Kane had not considered. In all the thrill of throwing away the Elixir and not getting caught, in the relief of not throwing up the gritty liquid, he had forgotten the primary purpose of the Child Guard’s sacred elixir – protection from the deadly Sidhe.

  Nobody had ever told them how it was the Elixir would protect them; for all Kane knew it could be the noxious smell that repelled the wicked creatures, and if that was the case then he almost sympathised. However, it was probably something much deeper and holier than that, in which case he and Terrell might already be beyond salvation. How long had it been? Four days? A week? He leaned heavily against a nearby wall, deflated.

  Eder saw the colour drain from Kane’s face and his own took on a worried look. “I’m sure you’ll be fine if you get back on it as soon as possible. After all, you didn’t have it when you were a baby and you’re fine.”

  “What about Terrell?” Kane asked. “I’m willing to drink the Elixir again, he isn’t. He doesn’t want to be a Child Guard, he wants to serve the gods in a different way. I don’t think he’s going to change his mind.”

  “We’ll have to protect him,” Eder said, chewing on his lip. “It’s not going to be easy with just the two of us, but there’s no way to turn back now for reinforcements or help. Besides, the Borderlands are well-patrolled, and there hasn’t been a skirmish reported in months.”

  “You’re right,” Kane said after a long silence. “We’ll be fine. We’ve always been fine, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Eder said. He hesitated for a moment, then held his hand out to help Kane back to an upright position. Kane took it, and the oddest sensation came over him.

  It started with a sudden warm feeling in the pit of his belly, like drinking hot soup on a cold day, and it spread outwards from a point behind his navel. Half of it rushed upwards, setting his heart to pounding, his breath to catching and his stomach to fluttering like he’d just swallowed a moth. The other half went downwards to cause an unfamiliar, but not unpleasant sensation which turned his legs to jelly. It was awful and wonderful and terrifying all at the same time, and the mixture of feelings made his head spin.

  Heedless of his unsteadiness, he let go of Eder’s hand as though it was scalding. The feeling went away as suddenly as it had come, although a faint echo of warmth remained. He felt the last of the heat rise into his cheeks.

  “What was that?” he asked, shaking his hand like it was sore.

  “What are you talking about?” Eder had backed away a step or two. His face was alarmed, and his left hand covered his right protectively. “Kane, are you feeling all right?”

  “I-“ Kane made a conscious effort to breathe and return to normal. “Did you not feel... I don’t know. Maybe it’s the heat.”

  “Or maybe it’s a side-effect of being off the Elixir,” Eder said, voicing the thought Kane had been avoiding. “The sooner you resume your dose, the better. We don’t want a mad commander if at all possible.”

  “I’m fine,” Kane insisted. “I’ll be fine. Come on, we’re wasting the afternoon standing here, let’s have a look around before we have to head back.”

  Eder nodded, but continued to regard Kane with suspicion and unease as they headed back to the main square of the town.

  Terrell was there, leaning casually on a fence and talking to a girl with wisps of auburn hair escaping from under a demure lace cap. She was laughing at something he had said, and he gave a brief nod in Kane and Eder’s direction before turning his attention back to her.

  So absorbed was he in his conversation he didn’t notice the gaggle of boys watching him with intense dislike from across the square. Kane did, and he began to steer his and Eder’s meanderings closer towards their distracted friend.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” the oldest of the boys, a big redheaded bruiser more than a head taller than Terrell, drew apart from the pack and planted himself beside the fence, a mere foot away from Terrell.

  “Talking,” Terrell said with the same easy cheer as usual, but there was a grin playing about his face that Kane knew all too well. “What’s it to you?”

  “What are you talking to my girl for?”

  “Your girl is she? Has she got your name written on her?”

  The girl giggled, seemingly in spite of herself, but the big lad glared at her and she affected an expression of simpering regard.

  “You don’t talk to my girl, smartarse, is that clear? Unless you want to be picking your teeth up off the floor, you can just bugger off back to your barracks sharpish.”

  Terrell tilted his head, thinking about it. The grin widened, and for a moment he met Kane’s eyes across the cobbles, a dangerous glint of mischief in his face, but before Kane could call out to him not to even think about it, it was too late.

  “Make me,” Terrell said.

  The headbutt landed well, and the lad staggered backwards, a stream of blood flowing from his nose. He recovered quickly, and barrelled towards Terrell with an enraged roar, fists swinging. Terrell met the blows with the skill of a practised fighter, a
nd by the time Kane reached him he had turned the tables and the boy landed heavily on his backside on the uneven cobble.

  “Private Terrell, that’s enough!” Kane hollered, with all of the officer’s authority he could muster.

  Terrell turned to him and saluted, and the boy, who was halfway onto his feet and gearing up to charge Terrell again, faltered at the approach of two more armed and armoured Child Guard.

  “What in the hells is going on here?” Kane asked, more for something to fill the ringing silence than anything else.

  “Misunderstanding, K- I mean, sir, got a little bit out of hand, that’s all.”

  “That’s a bloody understatement, Terrell.”

  “Won’t happen again, sir.”

  “You’re damn right about that.”

  Kane turned to the boy, who curled his lip and spat a gobbet of blood onto the floor. “You Child Guard can’t fight for buttons,” he growled, and turned away. “We were getting out of here anyway. Aideen!”

  The young girl hesitated for a moment then followed the retreating group, after a long glance back at Terrell.

  Kane faced down his friend’s crooked grin with a glare. “The hell were you thinking, picking fights with civilians? Not to mention he was twice your size!” he hissed, aware the onlookers in the market, whilst drifting away, were still not quite out of earshot.

  “I got him on his arse, though,” Terrell pointed out proudly, but as Kane ground his teeth he affected an expression of contrition. “He got in my face, Kane, I didn’t even think about it, I just reacted.”

  “Plenty of officers have gotten in your face over the years, Terrell.”

  “Look, I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking properly.”

  Kane and Eder exchanged a concerned look, but Terrell mistook its meaning.

  “I won’t do it again, swear on the Brother’s sword hand, it was a one-off. I’ll go and shake his hand all sportsmanlike if you want.”