Almost nine years ago, having been forced to flee their own village far in the west, where the clans’ feuds had turned into a merciless war, she and her mother had abandoned the horrid place to look for refuge. In the conflicts, her father and three brothers had perished. In time they had tried building a normal life, if that could be possible after such a loss. The peacefulness in the eventless, quiet Sallncoln, aided their cause and soon allowed them to settle. Elmira and I became friends rapidly. So had Elmira’s mother and my grandmother. We were often together and did most things in each other’s company. I taught her how to fish and she soon became better than me, more patient. We often went gathering fruit near the edge of the forests, where we were allowed to venture alone, and helped each other with various hard chores that either my grandmother or her mother imposed on us. We shared a common passion for books, a rare and luxurious custom in our village where most weren’t capable of reading or writing. Thanks to Inga, the broom and basket maker, who had travelled to many places, there were only few tomes in our village, and she entrusted me and Elmira to become the privileged guardians of them all. We read their heroic quests until we knew them by heart, often pretending to be the champions and queens of the tales recounted. We understood each other like nobody else did.
If initially the other children mocked us for our peculiar friendship, in time they became envious because of it. Elmira grew into the most beautiful girl in Sallncoln; her origins gifted her the brightest red hair, a rare sight in our village. The fiery hair contrasted to perfection her striking, blue eyes, making me fall for her like a rotten pear off a tree branch. Our childhood friendship instinctively and harshly transitioned into something else, something bigger than us and we understood we wanted to be together, forever. Such was our infatuation that earlier in the spring we promised our love and swore that we’d get married when the time was right. To seal my words and prove my love, I gave her a precious possession from my unknown mother; an iron ring. There was no value to it except for what it meant to me; the one thing that could possibly remind me of her, and I was happy to give it to Elmira.
Our infatuation and persistence, and perhaps our teenaged stupidity, managed to convince our family members of our serious intent. My brothers were actually even more surprised than the rest of the villagers, not ever thinking of me as being ‘such a charmer’, to put it in Keno’s words. That only encouraged us to anxiously start planning our future.
As if pulled out of a day-dream, I found myself at the edge of the village. Nana was not crying anymore and appeared more resolute. The loud ringing of the bell had stopped as well. A flagging wave of heat and smoke welcomed us, accompanied by shrieking flames that ate at the buildings.
Many people were fighting the fire. Borr, the butcher, was efficiently throwing dirt and sand from a sand pile, previously gathered in front of his house. Others rushed about with buckets of water, while some took wounded people and animals to safety.
It appeared that the fire had started from the centre, where the damage was worse.
“We need to check the house!” I said to my grandmother.
She nodded and we picked up our pace, walking at a safe distance from the flames.
Our agonising walk toward the northern side of the walls, made me wonder if our village had ever before experienced a similar calamity. Nothing came to mind, except a few small fires, some flooding and plenty of cruel raids from the west, though the latter hadn’t occurred for centuries and nature’s wrath had yet to reveal itself so violently.
I felt the hand of my grandmother strongly pulling at mine. She stood in complete shock, her face fixed to the left, on the ground, where, to my consternation, an extended hand was visible from underneath a beam and other burnt rubble. Fear chilled my burning body for an instant and I felt cold sweat dripping over my back, underneath my shirt. It was a house of someone I knew.
“Dear soul,” Nana whispered.
“May he rest in peace,” I replied as I coldly pulled her away from the sight.
We took a shortcut that led directly to our cottage; a narrow and dangerous passage.
Had it been completely swallowed by the fire?
Once there, we realised with anger that indeed, our home had been reached by the voracious flames; a portion of our cottage’s roof was slowly burning, threatening to collapse. The fire must’ve spread from the stable, which stood further to the left, and which was almost entirely burned to the ground.
I feared for our beast but there was no time to ponder. Henek and Kuno were already tackling the fire with buckets of water and a blanket.
I ran towards them and climbed the ladder that was already on one of the two giant, rain-water barrels – we kept two barrels for rain-water, that would be otherwise used in the driest days of summer, for our garden and beasts.
Nana reached us and placed herself at the bottom of the ladder. A working chain was soon established, with me on top of the barrel, taking water out and passing it to my grandmother, who passed it to Henek and then to Kuno. He had the arduous task of getting as close as possible to the flames and dousing them with water.
When we were done, the cottage looked like a late autumn tree; skeletal and smouldering on one side, while the other was almost completely intact. It would carry the smoky scent for many days to come, impregnated in the walls, furniture, clothing and every other object inside.
“We need to collapse the stable to make it safe!” Henek suggested.
“Aye,” replied Kuno with a cough.
A brief pause, to catch our breath and drink some water, and we were ready.
The unsafe walls collapsed safely to the ground with the smallest effort. We checked through the wreckage for any dead animals, yet we could find none. There was no mistake that our two goats, one sheep, two pigs and many chickens and ducks had managed to escape unharmed.
“The fence is broken, here,” Nana called to us. “Most likely the stubborn pigs raced through the wooden-poles and saved every animal enclosed.”
I let out a loud chuckle, which encouraged Henek and Nana to join me; we knew whose task it was to retrieve the fleeing animals.
“Damnable beasts. I shall enjoy your meats when your time comes.” Kuno shot his disappointment to the sky, while kicking at the rubble.
The brief pause encouraged us to spend more time in securing the cottage, making sure it was not in danger of falling or igniting again, and once we knew it was safe, and our intact kitchen was locked, Kuno went to find the beasts.
“We should go now towards the market, it seems they’ve had it worse there,” suggested Nana.
“Yes, but first,” I started, “I need to go check on Elmira. I’ll meet you there.”
“Surely you should. Meet us by the market! And be safe!” Henek suggested, hearteningly.
I couldn’t have waited for a better opportunity. I couldn’t wait at all. The thought that haunted me since the very first scream, made my heart pound harder the closer I approached her house. I feared for everyone I knew. Especially, I feared for Elmira.
Their house was not too far from ours, and it took me only a short time to get there. To my relief the house was completely intact from the angry fire, being one of the closest to the northern edge of the forest. Yet, there was nobody around and the door was shut; the only sign that someone had been there were the wet walls splashed for protection. Their beasts, apparently calm, were gathered around their stable waiting to be fed. Confused and a little less worried, I walked to their closest neighbour, a rope-maker, who told me that he had seen them leave the village and that he would be keeping an eye on their animals. Glad that they were apparently safe from harm, I went to meet Henek and my grandmother by the market.
From what I could see between the rows of damaged and undamaged houses, the surrounding village’s walls were still strongly standing, undamaged. They were too far for the fire to reach.
Once I reached the widest streets of the village, I was astonished to see that, am
ong the many burning houses and stalls and huts, the hall was miraculously still standing. With not so much of a threat from a single spark, it even sheltered many of the wounded villagers and some beasts.
The hall was the centre of our village. Together with our market, it was the only place where we had the chance to see everyone from Sallncoln assembled in the same place. It was used for important events such as duels, weddings, conflict meetings, disputes amongst the villagers and battle strategies in case of raids, which luckily ended almost a century ago. It was a big and solid building that extended on two levels, the second floor only being used as a standing arena to watch the gathering from above. That was generally occupied by those that had no say in the matters discussed; their only participation being by cheering and heckling. We never had any major disagreements except regular scuffles amongst the most passionate supporters that generally solved themselves with a pint of ale later the same day and probably forgotten the next.
“A miracle.” Nana distracted my astonished inspection as she called from inside the hall where she was aiding other women tend to the wounded.
“Indeed,” I replied, “where is Henek? What can I do to help?”
“Near the market, they need help there!”
And that was the case, as the fire was still hungry and fierce on this side of the village. People were franticly running about, some with water buckets, some with wooden poles to fix the structures that risked collapse and some carrying the wounded to safety.
I spotted Henek among the men, shouting orders and helping as best as he could, but I continued ahead. I followed the line of men that formed towards the well and offered to replace the man that was drawing water. He did not let me beg, and I was happy to see him smile, appreciatively.
Chaos still ruled and soon fear and adrenaline gave way to exhaustion. The unbearable heat allowed terror and anger to persist through the heavy smoked-air and nobody knew what had happened or if we were still in danger. Between one bucket and another, some recounted their version and opinions on what had transpired. Yet none appeared to make sense; a fire that big could not have started from the market, an unattended leaves fire-pit or a barn.
The people who initially fled towards the lake, found the courage to return and give a hand. Everyone was fighting the fire. Even the few drunkards of Sallncoln, who were perennially stoned at breakfast, midday and supper, sobered up with cold water and were doing their best to help.
Everyone was doing as much as they could and more, and determination to make everything safe and help everyone gave us courage and lightened our minds from darker thoughts.
What mattered was to extinguish the fire.
Our numbers overwhelmed the strength of the fire and the general panic. We made good progress in a relatively short time. Though, everyone was tired and scared. Many bore heavier signs of their fights against the fire; heavy bruisers, deep cuts, burns, broken fingers, toes and limbs. Those were all marks that would be carried throughout their lives, making sure the day would never be forgotten.
Every fibre of muscle in my shoulders, legs, neck and hands was agonising. If my knee had hurt me during the day, I could not recall. The bruises and blisters on my palms were hurting more than anything else. I even had difficulty unclutching my fingers from the instinctive fist they were tending to form.
The dangerous flames were finally extinguished and there were only the hot embers that needed tending to. It would take us the whole day and probably part of the night to make the village safe from the flames, I reckoned. Though I was glad it was almost over.
“How you faring?” heaving Henek asked, as he joined me for a mug of fresh water.
“I’m well. Nothing hurts too much, everything hurts the same,” I laughed, making him smile as well.
“What happened here? It can’t be an accidental fire? Someone must’ve set it up!” he said.
A depressing sight surrounded us. The thick, dark smoke had cleared and we could see further away, as much as the buildings allowed. Some of the houses were beyond repair and completely gone, few were still standing and many, towards the edge of the forest, had been spared entirely. The unscathed hall stood like a new sculpture among the decayed and burnt buildings around it. It was as if the fire had started from there, but that could not have been possible.
“I have no clue; we should ask the elders. I think I saw Parelh at the hall. Nana’s there too.” My voice was hoarse due to the smoke I had inhaled.
“It’s a good idea,” he replied.
Now that the fire was gone, almost everyone was heading toward the hall. Given the circumstances, it was still nice to see children play amongst themselves, between the wounded and the crowd, careless of what ensued. Though, the anger and frustration sculpted on adult faces, was threatening and concerning. Soon there’ll be a harsh reckoning; many had lost their homes, their animals, and some had lost members of their families.
Someone was talking at the gathering, making the incomprehensible sea of noises, cease. It was Parelh.
“There will be no reckoning today!” he started. “Nobody knows what happened and nobody is to blame at this time. All we need is for everyone to stay safe for the night and, if in strength, help those that need most help. Secure your homes for the night if you can, and find shelter at your neighbours if you cannot.”
His words captured the attention of everyone, just like he always did, and only the laments of the wounded and a few children’s cries could be heard against his words.
“The hall and the market stalls that still stand, are for the wounded. Anyone wishing to help through the night, is welcomed to stay here!” he concluded.
There were no arguments and no complaints as the murmuring slowly lifted itself around the hall and people started moving away.
Henek and I reached our grandmother inside the hall. Those who decided to remain and help for the night, were being given orders and suggestions from the other elders. There would also be two shifts of watchmen and, given the circumstances, I could only agree with their decision. Kuno, who had just reached us, offered to do the first round with Henek, while I decided to stay with Nana.
Before my brothers departed to their assignments, a quick dinner was prepared at the hall, for those that would spend the night there; bread, onions, cheese and salted meat was more than enough to fill up on lost strength.
“Are you okay, Kuno? Your hands are shaking,” I asked.
“My hands are fine, only a bit tired.” He smiled with a half-full mouth, lifting his left hand in front of his face for closer scrutiny.
The charred-smudged face with his food-swollen cheeks, that had bread coming out of one corner of his mouth, made us all smile quietly. We were glad that none of us had been harmed and even if the dire situation did not allow for it, I felt happy.
“He’s tough as a mule this one!” replied Henek chuckling and giving a tug on Kuno’s shoulder. “Now up we go, brother, we need to reach the camp.” Both got to their feet and started towards the eastern walls.
Me and my grandmother arranged the bed and the chair that was to be ours for the night, and went to assist to tending the wounded.
The seriously wounded and the unlucky souls that had perished during the day had been moved inside a building neighbouring the market. Besides them, everyone else was being brought to the hall. It was big enough for us to fit in, comfortably separated from each other; a few beds had been brought from nearby houses or salvaged from the flames, and there were plenty of chairs and blankets on the floor.
Our task included tending light wounds; burns, cuts, bruises and some broken limbs. Most of the people treated were serene and glad to be alive, given the circumstance, and only one screamed with horrible pain, when his leg had to be amputated. Witnessing the entire procedur, with the corner of my eye, made my skin itch and my forehead sweat tensely.
After assisting those in more pressing need, we took on feeding those that had minor injuries. It took a while to walk aroun
d the erratically arranged bunk beds and finish our rounds, but in the end, we managed well and the place finally fell quieter. Everyone had had their dinner and been tended to, and by the time we finished most of them were already asleep.
It took us more than three, long hours and I felt exhausted and in desperate need of fresh air.
Even as I started contemplating the idea of laying my aching spine flat on a bed, an itch formed in the back of my mind, carrying me unwillingly outside the hall. I took advantage of the air, which filled my lungs with stinging freshness, and learned that the itch was not related to my body’s need for air. It definitely felt invigorating, though my legs kept carrying me through a dark alley downhill, and I only understood what it was about when it was too late; I found myself inside the room where the heavily-wounded and the dead were being kept overnight. I froze before I could take another step, neither inside nor out. The fresh air of the night vaporised, leaving in its stead a warm stench of medication, urine, blood and candles; the reek of death.
I was compelled to fill my lungs with the stench, for my mind would not let my body escape the horrid vision; the dead bodies of people I knew, lying on the floor, most of whom were not even entirely covered from sight.
Horror engulfed me, making my body prevent me from taking in any air when I spotted Eadric’s body amongst those that awaited their final bath before their departure from this world. The sight of the tyrant that had tormented my childhood with his many pranks and mockeries, caused by my defect, had an instant effect on my heart and mind. My heart started beating fast and unsteadily while my mind forced me to relive moments of our times together. Unpredictably and surprisingly, it was not the unpleasant reminiscence I had experienced; I did not see any of his bad behaviour and I did not hear his angry voice shouting at me without provocation. All I could see was another child that wanted to play and have everyone’s attention. My sight blurred and I felt cold drops trickle down my cheeks. I gulped nervously and all I wished for was to run. Though before I could even turn, two hands grabbed me strongly by my shoulders.
Winterhorn (Tokens Of Benevolence Book 1) Page 4