The Chellion Days

by A.S. Morrison

drift away in the distance. Out past the town smoke rose into the sky. He shivered and looked ahead, grabbing on to the saddle for support so he didn’t have to grab on to his brother.

  The horse ran quickly down the small dirt road that led into the unknown. It didn’t take long for them to catch up to the families that left town last. The family with the over-packed cart were the slowest. The parents yelled as the children kept going back for things that fell off. They were only a blur as the horse sped by.

  The ride was quiet. His brother would only talk to remind him to hold on tight or to tell him that they were making good time.

  Night came before long. The lantern on the stick threw light in all directions. Kenton grew annoyed and often cursed under his breath at the light’s inability to keep even remotely still. Finally, he pulled the horse to a stop and blew the light out.

  “If we keep up with that the Welgo’s will see us.”

  “Do you think they’re nearby?” Ackerley asked, trying to hide his fear.

  “It’s possible.”

  Kenton tied the horse to a nearby tree. It was too dark to tell exactly where they were, and there were no lights to signal a town. He pulled a couple blankets out of one of the many bags tied to the horse’s saddle and laid them out on dead grass. Ackerley sat down on one as Kenton handed him a jar of beans and a spoon.

  “Is this what you eat all day?” Ackerley asked, grimacing as he attempted to swallow a mouthful of beans.

  “If we’re lucky. I’ve been saving these for you. Mostly we eat these hard cracker like things.”

  They sat in silence for a long time. And then, when all the beans were gone and the jars had been put away, Kenton lay back and urged Ackerley to get some sleep. Ackerley found a comfortable spot on the blanket, but wasn’t sure if he would ever get to sleep out there with the thought of Welgo’s permeating his mind.

  Sometime before dawn Ackerley was shaken awake by his brother. Within a few minutes they were back on the horse, speeding along through the countryside. Ackerley was too tired to keep his grip on the saddle and sometime in the early morning fell asleep with his head on his brother’s back.

  When he woke up they were riding at a slower pace through a forest. Ackerley had only once been in a forest. It was a long time ago. His parents had taken them on a trip to see a relative. He didn’t remember who the relative was but he did remember the forest. It was so pretty. For years he had thought back to that day with fond memories. Being back within the trees made him smile for the first time in a very long time. He didn’t even fear the Welgo’s there. There was no way people so evil could find a place like that. He felt so good watching the little animals and swaying leaves that he didn’t mind what else was going on in the world.

  “Do you see a lot of forests when you’re out?” Ackerley asked, watching the canopy above him in a blissful daze.

  “Yeah, occasionally. There’s a big one to the west. We fought the Welgo’s there a few months ago.”

  “In the forest?”

  “In and around.” Kenton said emotionlessly.

  Ackerley didn’t believe for a second that anybody could be evil near a forest. He looked out through the trees and was simply amazed that there was no end on either side of the trail. Nothing else mattered in the minutes spent gliding silently through that tree filled heaven.

  Some time later, after eating the hard cracker like things, they left the trees behind, much to Ackerley’s dismay.

  “We may have to stop in a few hours. I doubt we’ll make it tonight.” Kenton said sometime in the afternoon.

  “What is this place?” Ackerley finally asked. He’d wanted to ask the whole time but found it difficult to talk to his brother.

  “I told you about it in some of my letters. It’s a real big old castle that takes in kids displaced by the . . . well the current situation.”

  Ackerley didn’t much want to spend the rest of the war against the Welgo’s in some place with a bunch of other kids. In fact, the only thing he wanted to do was go home and be alone, but that was out of the question at this point. And besides, he seriously doubted that they wanted him there. The kids there were probably all related to generals and nobility. Someone like him, someone from some middle of nowhere town nobody ever heard of would have a terrible time there. He was sure of it.

  “And they were alright taking me?” Ackerley asked nervously, afraid of the answer.

  “Well sure.”

  That didn’t make him feel any better. “Are you sure, though?”

  Kenton sighed. “The king is the nephew of the man who owns the castle. I told him about you and he talked to his uncle. In the end he agreed.”

  In the end? Ackerley really didn’t like the sound of that. This castle owner had to be convinced to take him. For the first time he was afraid of going to this place. Of course they would treat him bad. He’d probably have to sleep out with the horses, if they had horses. He couldn’t say anything to Kenton about it; he’d probably just get mad.

  The ground was hard and cracked. Miles went by without the slightest sign of life. Ackerley didn’t know if this was the work of the invaders or if the kingdom always looked like that. He never had the chance to explore or even learn about what was out there.

  Evening approached and with it the first interesting sight. Sprouting out of the cracked dead earth came a small town. Even from far away the signs of life were unmistakable. Small tan buildings of all conceivable shapes lived in harmony in that wasteland. People and animals could be seen milling about along the edges.

  “Are we there?” Ackerley asked.

  “No, we won’t make it today. I thought we’d better stop off for a real rest. This town’s been of service to me every time I go home. I have a friend there who can give us shelter for the night. The less time we spend outside the better.” Kenton said wearily.

  “How long are we staying?”

  Ackerley very much wanted to stay there for the rest of the war. A place like that would be much more like home than some aristocrat’s stuffy castle. A small town of hardworking commoners was much more his style.

  “Just the night. We’ve got to get you to that castle so I can get back to work.”

  Ackerley wanted very much to know what it was like to fight in a war, but was still too nervous to ask.

  The town was a dirty little thing. Sewage lined the dusty streets. None of the windows had proper glass, just like in the town they had grown up in. The people looked worse, if that was possible. They all wore layers of rags and had perpetual sorrow etched into their worn faces.

  Kenton pulled up to a two level shack that looked ready to collapse at any moment. He untied the rope and slid off the horse. He helped his brother down and tied the horse to a post.

  There was no door; only a ragged cloth blowing in the breeze. Kenton carefully moved it out of the way and they entered.

  It took a while for Ackerley’s eyes to adjust to the darkness. There wasn’t much to see anyway. The room was empty except for a very old woman sitting in a rickety wooden chair. Her face was lined with age and scars from life. He wasn’t sure if it was a life well lived or poorly lived, but it didn’t matter much.

  “Madame Orly, it is very nice to see you again.” Kenton said, kneeling down and grasping her hand.

  Ackerley wasn’t sure she could hear him. She looked far too old to even know what was going on.

  Madame Orly laughed heartily. “I hoped that I would both not see you again . . . and of course see you again.”

  Kenton laughed as well. “In my line of work it’s better to be seen again.”

  “And what a terrible line of work it is.” She said.

  Ackerley was shocked to hear somebody say something negative about the war. In his hometown he’d often have people come to his house just to say that they were thinking about his brother fighting the hero’s fight.

&n
bsp; “It’s only terrible when we lose.” Kenton said with a wide grin.

  Madame Orly looked at Ackerley, who jumped a little under the old woman’s powerful gaze.

  “Little Kenton, I’ve heard about you.”

  “His name is—” Kenton began.

  “I remember it.” She retorted. “But what I don’t know is why you’re here. Why did the king send his best adjutant away at such a time? I hear the news. I know the stories from the many fronts. If you can call them fronts.”

  Kenton nodded slowly. “Our town was about to go up to heaven. I—well I needed to get my family to safety.”

  Madame Orly sat up in her chair and frowned with a sense of knowledge unknown to Ackerley. “And where is this safety?”

  “Chellion Castle.” Kenton whispered, looking a little guilty.

  She shook her head and sighed deeply. “The big castles aren’t going yet but they will. And when they hit them it will be far worse than what they do to the towns.”

  Kenton pushed Ackerley back a little as though trying to limit what he heard.

  “I don’t really know if that’s true.”

  Ackerley could tell his brother didn’t believe a word of what he said.

  Madame Orly could tell as well. She gave him a slight smile and changed the subject. “Your room is open upstairs. People come by but nobody stays anymore.”

  Kenton took a small purse from his belt that jangled quite a bit. “Thank you very much. Here, I’ve got the usual.”

  “No, no, no, don’t you dare pay me for this.