by Hannah King
Tratis sat up straight. “Well?”
“It’s about Captain Lewis sir.”
“Lewis?”
The boy nodded and glanced over his shoulder.
“The other night, I was off duty but couldn’t sleep. I saw Captain Lewis leave his tent and exit the camp for a good while. When he returned, we accidentally bumped into each other.” He fell silent.
Tratis cocked an eyebrow, hoping there was more to the story.
“It’s just that, I smelled something on him sir.”
“Alcohol? Perimen, I’m sure you're aware that we captains are allowed a little ale in the evenings.”
The boy shook his head. “No sir, not ale. I think he was, using…well, reig sir.”
Tratis leaned forward. “You believe Captain Lewis has been stealing and using reig in secret?”
Wes stuttered. “I thought you should know, sir.”
“And do you have proof?”
“No sir. Only my word. But I’m positive I could smell the herb on him.”
“Really…” Tratis rubbed the scruff on his chin thoughtfully. “It’s bold of you to make an allegation against a captain you know.”
The boy hung his head. “I’m sorry, sir. Perhaps I should have kept it to myself.”
‘No, no, you were in the right. If what you say is true, we shall have to keep a closer watch on him. I’d noticed something strange about him just recently. In fact, this almost confirms my suspicions. It’s not much to go on, but it could lead us to the truth.”
The boy shifted uncomfortably. Tratis imagined Wes was the sort of fellow who couldn’t revel in causing someone else trouble. It made him all the more grateful to the boy for coming forward.
“But, why, sir? Why would he do such a thing?”
“I believe he’s been growing more and more discontent. Tired of living how we live, tired of the hard work, the meager meals, and the politics.” He pushed a piece of blond hair behind his ear and rubbed his hands together a moment as if they were cold, a common habit of Fireholders.
“I sensed a loyalty change in him during the last few weeks,” Tratis mused. “Of course, I’d hoped I was wrong, but there was a certain air about him I couldn’t dismiss. He seemed angry, especially when the northern trade went south, so to speak,” he chuckled at his accidental joke, but it didn’t seem to lighten the boy’s nervous attitude. He cleared his throat.
“Thank you Perimen. I will take this matter to the leads. I’m sure you have and will continue to keep this matter to yourself.”
Wes bowed his head quickly and disappeared, appearing greatly relieved that his part was over.
Tratis shook his head and leaned forward, deep in thought. A fellow captain who could not be trusted. Stealing from the camp, numbing his brain with such a substance at a time when everyone needed to be alert and sharp. One more reason he was glad he’d made his dark crossing when he had.
CHAPTER NINE
TALITHA
HEAVY RAIN PELTED the low ceiling of the tent, stream-ing down the slant and puddling around the perimeter. Usually the sound and scent of rain would draw me into a sweet, peaceful sleep, but instead, I lay awake, my eyes shut, but my mind reeling.
I had slid my gloves on as I usually did when I rested, anything to tune out the sense of everything around me. Even with the silence in my head, I couldn’t relax. I tried to breathe deeply. Hours later, the exhaustion, the nerves, the tireless questions in my mind at last turned into a heavy sleep that tried to heal my body from the day.
A dream flitted across my eyelids. I suddenly felt comforted and safe. I was in my Da’s arms. A bittersweet ache filled my heart at the thought of how much I missed him. Then the dream turned nightmarish with shouts and thudding. Everything in my dream began to quake and turn upside down, as if I was being shaken violently.
“Wake up!” A woman’s distant voice drifted into my head.
“Wake up!” I felt a sharp kick in my side. My eyes flew open and I gasped in pain. Captain Gray was standing over me, holding a lamp.
I could hear the sound of an alarm being sounded outside the tent, commands being uttered, horse’s hooves pounding the sod.
“What’s happened?” I asked in terror.
“Just get up,” she snapped at me, then pulled me to my feet and tore my gloves off.
“What kind of Lantern are you?” she spewed in disbelief. “Sleeping with gloves,” she said to herself incredulously, as if it wasn’t a common practice among Lanterns. “You should remain alert, always!” She tossed them to the ground and I clumsily stooped to pick them up.
“The sanctum’s been discovered. Parter scouts on horseback were spotted just outside our barriers.”
My heart pounded as I struggled to comprehend the words.
“Follow me,” she ordered, gripping my hand. I was dragged outside of the captain’s tent and pulled toward the lead’s head-quarters through the uneasy camp.
A doubled guard surrounded the lead’s pavilion. They admitted us swiftly and solemnly. I attempted to run my hands through my matted hair and tug my dress straight before stumbling into the meeting space.
In the low lamp light I first noticed Captain Tratis, Captain Stalvert and Captain Lewis, all standing at attention in front of the leads.
Lead Talrinious was seated, his usually clean-shaven face rough and grave, his graying hair disarrayed. I’d never once seen him so close, and when I had spotted him during speeches and traveling, he had always been the picture of a brave and wise leader, despite our troop’s poverty. Now instead of his stately uniform and armor, he wore a long, sleep wrinkled nightshirt with a chainmail tunic thrown over the top. His sword was at his side, along with his signal horn, but his boots were scuffed and muddy.
Lead Breiden was standing behind Lead Talrinious. She wore a long gray chemise with a woolen blanket over her shoulders, and her hair hung in a disheveled braid. Her eyes darted toward Captain Gray and I as we entered, but she did not address us.
“And how many scouts were there?” Talrinious was asking.
“Two sir, on horseback,” Stalvert replied.
“And no one could catch the wretches?”
“The rain is thick tonight,” Lewis explained. “Three watchmen set out after them, but they were apprehended and shot down. Only one survived and managed to stumble back here, but by then it had been hours. They’ll be safely in Ralstag or Wrendall soon, disclosing our location.”
My mind began to swim at this alarming account.
Watchmen? Was Wes one of the men shot down? I wanted to ask for names, but the conversation was quickly moving on.
“We must abandon camp and return to the Brawl Mountains early,” Talrinious began thoughtfully. “And we must hurry.”
Abandon camp? My heart fell. That meant only the items necessary for survival and defense were to be taken with us; all tents and dwellings and extra belongings would be left behind. The food we had gathered, preserved and fought for all season long, the goods, valuables and spices were to be left untouched, suddenly useless.
“We cannot return to Brawl,” Tratis interrupted sharply. “Sir, the Parter army will be on our heels. With them trailing us we will lead them right to our people and they’ll be able to wipe us out once and for all.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Talrinious asked exasperatedly.
“We must consider more options,” Tratis began.
“Options?” Stalvert looked up sarcastically, “I wasn’t aware we had any of those left.”
“I’m aware your code makes you sharp, but you’re not the only one here with a head on their shoulders,” Tratis replied. Stalvert glowered.
“Watch your tongue, Captain,” Talrinious warned.
“We could attempt to head south, to the realm of Palpus,” Stalvert suggested. “Camp in the wilderness for a while, then we would not endanger Brawl. Once we are sure we are not being followed, we can make our way to the mountains-”
“I’ve been to Palp
us sir,” Tratis inserted. “It is dry, desolate and untamed. The wind blows through it all day, water is scarce, and the jackals are king. We are a strong people, but not strong enough to cross such an unforgiving realm. Besides, the scouts will expect us to flee there.”
“Then what do we have?” Lewis spoke up. “Except to wave a white flag. We are caught in a trap with nowhere to go. If we surrender, we will save ourselves many hardships. Maybe our lives will be spared.”
I held my breath in the horrible silence that followed.
“Bury me in the Elm Beds,” Gray’s voice was harsh and strained, her eyes boring into Lewis’, “but I will never raise a white flag to Faldir.”
Talrinious rubbed his forehead in distress.
“Sir,” Tratis’ voice rose, his hands clenched at his side, his eyes fiery. “We can’t risk going back to Brawl, but we could abandon camp and flee east instead, to the city of Leida.”
“Leida?” Stalvert snapped. “Are you out of your mind? Leida is a slave state, just as likely to be allied with the Parters, if not more so than Ralstag. You yourself have said that Leida is-”
“I know they will welcome us,” Tratis interrupted. “After the ambush at Ralstag, I felt it was crucial to have an escape route, should we get cornered or discovered. I rode to Leida to tell them our plight.”
“You left the camp unsanctioned?” Talrinious roared.
“No, sir, I did receive permission from Lead Breiden.”
Lead Breiden pressed her lips into a thin line.
“I was afraid you might disagree with the plan at first, sir,” Tratis rushed to explain.
“And rightly so,” Talrinious fumed, “How could you have been so rash? How could you trust them?”
“I was very careful sir, gave them no important information. Of course, my social ties there made it easier.”
Social ties? I puzzled.
Talrinious frowned but Tratis continued excitedly.
“I solicited their help and they agreed to shelter us should the need arise, in exchange for the pelts we’ve accumulated this season. A very gracious bargain really, for there is little that Leida actually needs. If we pass through the shallow side of the marsh our tracks will be covered. Then we could trek onto the eastern planes, through the Trenton hills, and beyond them into Leida. It’s a long journey, but there is a promise of safety at the end of it. They will welcome us, I swear, and even if the Parters discover where we’ve disappeared to, they won’t dare attack Leida until they further grow their army, and that could take a while. It gives us time to regain our strength and explore other options.”
“And how do you know this gesture of humanity is not a trap? How can we know they won’t hand us over to the Parters?” Talrinious countered.
“The Leidens view the Parters as a sort of human filth. While they claim a trade agreement with Leida, there are certain rumors that Parter soldiers have recently dared to attack a few of Leida’s trade ships, disguised as mercenaries. While they officially remain allies, they know that in the end, Faldir’s goal is to fatten himself by subduing every kingdom, one way or another. Leida values their way of life and knows that the Parters threaten it. Their queen is sympathetic to our cause.”
“I see,” Talrinious considered. “But if we head that far east this late in the season, there is no chance we will make it back to Brawl before the weather turns. By the time the army stops trailing us it will be too late into temper to cross the mountains and return to our people. They will be without our promised aid for countless months.”
“I understand sir, but our people will be better off hungry than massacred,” Tratis replied grimly.
Gray stepped forward angrily, “You mean to cut our families off from supplies for who knows how long?”
“What supplies?” Tratis raised his hand in question. “A few barrels of fish and mal loaves, hundreds of useless pelts? Without the trade we’d counted on in Ralstag, the supplies we have now would just barely allow us to survive the journey back. By the time we got back, forgive me, if we got back, it’s doubtful we would have anything left to donate toward our families’ causes.”
“We can’t give up on them, not like that,” Gray argued.
“We’re not in the position to give up; it’s been given up for us!” Tratis asserted. “The thing to think about now is how we can best survive, because that is the only option that hasn’t been snatched out of our hands.” He turned back to Talrinious. “Sir, every moment we spend here the Parters grow closer. We must decide, if we are to escape at all.”
The tent flap opened, and a messenger appeared. My heart swelled with relief. It was Wes, alive, but his eyes were sober and his face white as a sheet.
“Report your message and be on your way,” Talrinious barked at the interruption.
The boy stepped forward reluctantly.
“Are you ill?”
“No sir, I’m not ill,” he stammered.
“Well?”
“It’s Captain Warner sir,” he looked down at the ground. “He’s...dead.”
A sickening wave of silence washed over us.
“What do you mean?” Talrinious questioned, stricken.
Wes looked bravely into his lead’s face.
“An infection of some sort sir, he got worse overnight, he passed only minutes ago.”
There was another horrible moment of silence. Stalvert bowed his head, Lewis stared blankly at the ground, but Tratis’ clear blue eyes were undeniably holding back tears. He took a deep breath and forced the most stoic face he could manage.
Talrinious rose for the first time during the discussion.
“Lavalt keep him,” he said deliberately, his voice tight with grief. “But there is no time to dedicate his body to the earth. We can waste no time in making our decision. If the way home is barred, the Parters are sniffing us out as we speak, and Ralstag is under Parter control, then we shall throw ourselves on the mercy of the Leidens. Give the orders to abandon camp.”
There was no further discussion, though I could tell arguments and questions hovered on their tongues. With the direct order, they quickly nodded their heads and went about to fulfill it. I followed the others out of the tent, walking behind all of them. What good was I in this sort of trouble? I wasn’t a comfort or an aid. No, I was simply another detail they had to see to, a child they had to nanny.
“So, Captain Warner is dead,” Lewis muttered under his breath to Gray, “and the girl behind you is his replacement.”
Gray did not respond, only kept up a swift stride toward the captain’s tent. Once inside, Tratis began lighting lamps to work by.
“I need help gathering and distributing the pelts among the fielders. We will take no wagons,” he said.
“Can the leads truly mean to abandon all our goods? What about the spoils from the raids? Surely we can manage to bring some of the valuables with us,” Lewis argued.
“No, we cannot. The orders are to abandon everything except that which is necessary for the journey and the pelts for our payment. Anything else will slow us down,” he insisted.
Lewis shook his head at the loss.
“Split up. Inform the rank commanders of the decision,” Tratis directed. Lewis and Stalvert nodded, clearly uncomfortable with Tratis’ sudden air of authority, but knowing it was not the time to dispute it. Both left the tent to follow their orders and Tratis left to make inventory of the pelts. Gray remained in the tent, sorting through documents and throwing things haphazardly into a pack. Her face was expressionless, and her hands were tense.
“What should I do?” I asked meekly.
Gray threw her hands up and faced me. “You can change out of that captain’s uniform for now,” she pointed. “The fifth rank is being assigned to the kitchen tent. They’ll find something for you to do. Don’t repeat a word of what you’ve heard here, understand?”
I nodded, feeling an odd mixture of relief and panic. I longed to be helping, not standing around in silly clothes and liste
ning to details being sorted out. I changed into my old fielder’s uniform and ran to the kitchen tent, dodging crowds of others, already scurrying with worried expressions to carry out their own evacuation tasks in the smoky torchlight.
“We’re abandoning camp and going east to Leida,” was all that Reblaine said when I appeared, wasting no time. “You’ll be helping to pack rations.”
“Yes sir,” I replied, but the full extent of what was happening had finally hit me. We were running away from everything familiar, running to a foreign city. We weren’t just abandoning camp, we were abandoning our families. Every step to the east would bring us further and further away from our loved ones in the Brawl Mountains. There was a chance, I knew, deep in my heart, that I would never see my parents again.
A sickening wave of fear washed over me, and tears stung my eyes. I wanted to run, run back home and cross the mountains myself. I didn’t care how far it was, how dangerous it was, I had to go back to my family, to see them, to help them somehow. What would they do without our usual supplies?
“Speed is our ally if we want to escape the army at our heels,” Reblaine snapped at me as I stood there dumbly. I obeyed silently. I knew he was thinking of his wife, and their little boy, wondering if he would ever see them again.
The kitchen tent was crowded and sweaty. I was thrown into the assembly line, no questions asked.
“Leave the plates and utensils,” Demure was telling me. “Help me seal these.”
I took a deep breath, trying not to think too far ahead. She pointed to the precious few barrels of dried rabbit meat and dried fish that we would be allowed to take. When this was finished, I helped gather several tins of grease and half opened sacks of sandmeal that we knotted and added to appropriate packs.
Everything that was leftover was portioned out onto squares of cloth and tied up into bundles, one for each member of the camp. Mal loaves from the day before were broken in half, and I noticed cheese, dried meat, and currants among the supplies.
Into each square went two strips of meat or fish, a small portion of loaf, and a pile of currants or a chunk of cheese. These would be our livelihood over the next few days. Light enough to carry, but meager enough to weaken us.