Temporal Locum

by Wendie Nordgren

  The stone gate was raised, and cold air rushed inside. Mounds of snow surrounded the mountain’s base and skirted the trees. They rode out to join a group of twenty warriors who already had the villagers underway. Except to the few men who knew her identity, she was an acolyte being given special treatment, and it earned her a few jealous glares from the boys who were being left behind. She soon discovered that riding a palfrey was a far more enjoyable experience than riding Donkey. She was about to give the pretty black horse a hug when Iago, who was to her immediate right, nudged her and mouthed, “No.” Quietly, he said, “Most acolytes don’t hug horses.”

  A melting snowball hit Iago in the side of his head, but glancing around didn’t give him any idea who’d thrown it. Bym noticed Guto flicking water from his fingers, but a wink and a grin kept Bym from tattling. Progress to town, even with a few wagons in which the women, children, and elderly rode, went faster than Bym had expected. However, they were travelling downhill. Everyone continuously scanned their surroundings for goblins. The ones they saw the closer they got to the village were dead, burned by the sun and then frozen by the snow. A few of the townsfolk became sick on the side of the road at the sight.

  Drem set each of the mounds of the goblin dead alight with black mist and flames. She could feel his power from where she sat her horse. What had happened with the starshine, she might never fully understand, but Drem was a testament that something had changed. She’d heard priestesses of the Temporal Locum speaking in soft whispers, saying she’d birthed magic that night, but it wasn’t something which she wanted to consider at the moment. She wanted to feel the sun, the crisp air, and the horse beneath her.

  The village came into view. It wasn’t vacant. Umbra warriors opened the gates. The sounds of them hammering and sawing reached her even over the sounds of the townsfolk. The warriors had already removed and burned the dead, man and goblin alike. People left the convoy, wandering away to see their homes and if their crops and stores had survived. Being amongst the last to enter, Bym couldn’t see Helga. Like many of the others, Gethim had ridden away with Sausage and Potatoes to herd goats and sheep back into their pens.

  “Where do you want to begin?” Guto asked.

  “The inn, please.” The townspeople they passed nodded to them as they went. “Is it my imagination, or are they nicer to the Umbra than they are to the Solis?”

  “It isn’t your imagination. This village thrives at the foot of our stronghold. A few of our number were born here. In fact, Captain Arwel and Lyle are cousins.”

  “You’re shitting me!” Bym exclaimed.

  Horrified, Guto said, “I would never!”

  “Guto, it’s an expression like you’re making that up or pulling my leg.”

  Iago asked, “Did you hit your head in the pool?”

  Sighing, she shook her head.

  Guto asked, “Would you like your leg to be pulled? I don’t understand.”

  “Never mind.” She dismounted in the innyard, and Guto took her reins before she could wonder what to do with her horse.

  From the doorway, Seren called out, “Bym, is that you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She waited for Bym to come closer and then embraced her. “I’m so glad you’re safe. I was worried about you. When I couldn’t find you amongst the survivors….” She wiped at her eyes. “Well, none of that. Look at you! You look like a proper warrior. Are your new brothers teaching you how to be a man?”

  Blushing, Bym decided to go with it. “I’m learning lots of things. I got to use a practice sword and fight an acolyte today.” She smiled proudly. Not a word of what she’d said had been a lie.

  “Very good. I feel safer knowing you’ll be there to come to our aid. For luck,” she said as she rubbed Bym’s bald head. Then, she encouraged Bym to check her room for her belongings since she’d joined the Umbra and would have her very own cell.

  As she walked up the stairs, she thought of the exquisite rooms which she’d been given. In her former room, she took the things she’d already packed and noticed that the too-big-for-her farmer’s boots were gone. She assumed one of the villagers had needed them and taken them. After saying her goodbyes to Seren, she, Guto, Iago, and Hopcyn went in search of Helga.

  They found her. Immediately, she put them all to work. “Look at this mess! Look what the filthy monsters did to my stores!” She wrung her hands in distress. Her medicinal herbs had been torn from their drying racks and trampled, dirty goblin tracks crisscrossed the floors, and pottery laid smashed about the ruins.

  With the exception of Helga, all of those present knew why. The goblins had tracked Bym to the shop, a place where she’d spent a lot of her time. They hadn’t been able to get close to the inn, not with the men defending it.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll help you make things right,” Bym promised. She found the broom under a broken table which was covered with partially dried sage leaves and goblin feces.

  Hopcyn gave her expression a conciliatory frown and took the defiled table from the shop.

  Iago said, “I’m afraid none of your supplies can be salvaged as they’ve been contaminated by the goblins.”

  Helga said, “Not all is lost. I have things put away upstairs, unless they went up there.” She seemed so defeated that he offered her his arm and volunteered to go up with her to check.

  Bym smiled at his back. How had she ever been afraid of them? Yes, their appearances were deliberately intimidating, but they were gentlemen, gentlemen disguised as demon lords. However, now she knew why. They lived in the mountains where goblins were an even greater threat than they were on the surface. They thrived in darkness, and like the goblins, their eyes had adapted to the night. The kohl they wore around their eyes along with their deep hoods, protected their vision from the sun. A complaint drew her back to the present and the broom in her hands.

  “This is a wretched mess. It’s foul, and the stench of goblin shit is putrid. How is it you’re smiling?” Guto asked.

  Passing between them, Hopcyn said, “I’m starting a fire outside so we can burn all of this.”

  Putting her back into her sweeping, she said, “I realized how fortunate I am to have such kind, generous men in my life. You didn’t have to volunteer to help Helga.”

  Red rose up from Guto’s neck to cover his entire head. “Maybe, I’m helping because we’ll need another bath,” he stammered.

  Bym laughed and started sweeping from the back of the shop and toward the door.

  When Helga and Iago returned from the upstairs, which hadn’t been devastated by wild goblins, they cautioned Hopcyn about the burn pile and started a second one with the medicine woman overseeing what shouldn’t be burned with what. Certain combinations of plants could be dangerous. Bym’s arms and shoulders ached by the time they’d finished cleaning out the refuse and wreckage.

  “Here, Bym. Fill this out at the well.” Helga gave her the mop bucket.

  Iago and Hopcyn started hanging newly constructed drying racks from the ceiling beams. Leaving the store, she walked away from the clean-up activities. Helga’s neighbors, busy with their own burn piles, smiled and waved to her. The bucket thumped against her leg while she walked across the back field to the well, which inspired thoughts about Drem. The bucket bounced against what she assumed might be a boot-shaped bruise. However, it was better bouncing there than against her other leg. All of the townsfolk had work to do, and if she hadn’t convinced Drem to allow her to come, it would have taken the old woman weeks to do what the four of them had done in a matter of hours. Setting Helga’s mop bucket on the ground, she turned the crank and lowered the well bucket.

  Hearing a twig snap, she turned her head. A large hand covered her mouth. Bym released the crank and tried to free herself from her attacker. He put an arm across her stomach, lifted her from her feet, and ran with her toward the back fence. She kicked, clawed, and tried to bite the hand covering her mouth. Ahead, two of the timbers comprising the town’s fortifications
had been removed, and she could see Solis soldiers waiting on the other side.

  Panicking, she tore at the fingers covering her mouth and tried to scream. She and her attacker jerked forward as something fast and heavy hit them from behind. Crushed beneath the large male, her breath left her. Then, the oppressive weight was lifted and thrown from her.

  Guto stalked her attacker like an enraged panther. He held short swords in each of his hands, and his expression was murderous. “Run, Bym,” he commanded.

  Scrambling to her feet, she tried to do as he’d ordered. Unfortunately, the Solis soldiers who had been waiting on the other side of the fence were turning their bodies sideways and coming through the gap. “Help! Help!” she screamed. She reached for her blade, but it hadn’t been returned to her.

  “Filthy demon lovers. What? You saw a young boy and had to take him from the kindly old woman who’d given him a home and a purpose?”

  Bym froze, knowing Eurig’s voice when she heard it. “Stop it, Eurig! Guto is my friend! Leave us alone! We’re only here to help Helga and the townspeople.” Bym edged closer to Guto and out of reach of the advancing Solis.

  “Don’t be afraid, Bym. I came to check on you, like I said I would, and found you’d been taken and indoctrinated. I’m rescuing you. I thought you’d be safe here. I was wrong.”

  “Run!” Guto ordered.

  Bym tried to run, but after only a few yards, a soldier, one of the fastest runners she’d ever seen, caught her by her cloak. She dropped to the ground and kicked at his ankles, using his imbalance as a distraction and crawling away.

  Metal crashed against metal as Guto and Eurig crossed swords. She knew Guto would be victorious. Then, another Solis soldier drew his sword.

  “No!” she screamed.

  They were ganging up on him. Guto was an experienced warrior, but against three he couldn’t adequately defend himself. She heard his grunt of pain. As a red-cloaked Solis spun away, she watched in horror as the dark wetness spread across Guto’s shoulder. She cried out as he fell to his knees. Half running and half crawling to his side, she was there as he collapsed onto his back. She pressed her hands against the wound to stop the bleeding, but it seeped through her fingers.

  “Guto!”

  He stared up into her eyes, but couldn’t speak. Pain ripped through her as the life slowly left him.

  “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Please, Guto. Please, don’t leave me.” Pain sliced through her.

  Rough hands grabbed her by the arms and dragged her away. Screaming, she kicked and tried to fall to the ground. From across the field, Hopcyn drew his bow and fired as he ran. It was the last thing she saw before being struck unconscious.

  Chapter Eleven

  She was being bounced up and down on her ribs against some hard, uncomfortable surface over which she’d been hung like a wet rag. Groaning around a gag, she opened her eyes to total darkness and felt her hands had been tied.

  “We’re almost there, and he’s awake. Can I untie him and let him sit up?” Eurig asked.

  “No, he might call for help or try to escape. Then, our efforts to save him from the Umbra scum will have been in vain,” a deeper voice replied.

  She heard the sounds of a gate opening. “What have you boys got there?” a gravelly voice asked.

  “A rescue,” the deep, unfamiliar voice answered. “We got one of them, and they’re in pursuit.”

  The gravelly voice replied, “We’ll be ready for them.”

  Bym felt tears forming in her eyes. Her sweet, shy Guto. They’d murdered him. Thunder and lightning rent the sky. She wanted to tear Eurig and his accomplices into shreds with her bare hands, but in reality, her hands were tied. She was blindfolded and gagged. Through the sack over her head, the smell of manure and hay reached her as they entered a barn. Finally, she was lifted down and placed on her unsteady legs which were full of pins and needles. The sack and gag were removed. A blinking Bym looked up at Eurig’s face. She squinted against the sunlight spilling through the wood slats.

  “How could you? You killed him!”

  Eurig grasped her outer arms and gave her a gentle shake. “I went back to check on you and learned of the goblin attack. I took the old pair of boots from your room so you’d know I’d been back. Then, the Umbra came along with the snow, so we hid in the forest. We waited for you and the others to return home, knowing you would after it was safe. When I saw you like this, I knew I had to get you away from them.”

  One of the young soldiers who’d helped him attack Guto said, “Well, right now, we’d better take him to the Commander. Child or not, he’s an Umbra.”

  Eurig frowned at the matter-of-fact tone but nodded his head in agreement. They surrounded her to make it clear that trying to run would be a mistake. Taking a grip of the back of her cloak, Eurig walked Bym from the barn and up onto a wooden sidewalk. All too soon, he and his accomplices waited with her outside of the Solis’ headquarters. A covered porch provided some relief from the light snow which had started to fall. As they waited, her hatred of the Solis grew. Not only had Eurig and his team killed Guto, but as she watched, a young woman in chains was led to a stone gate, much like the one she remembered from the forest.

  Bym couldn’t see the fear evident in her face because her back was turned, but she could see it in her faltering steps. Hadn’t word of her reached the Solis? Were the Umbra keeping her a secret for some reason? If Captain Arwel and the other Umbra leaders had decided to keep knowledge of her to themselves, perhaps it was for defensive reasons. After what she’d experienced, being tied, gagged, and “rescued,” she wasn’t inclined to volunteer any information to the red-cloaked bastards. In honor of Guto’s memory, she’d be damned if she did anything to help them.

  The brave young woman lifted her chin and walked forward, pausing fearfully before passing under the stone gate. The portal made a sizzling sound, and tendrils of power weakly reached toward Bym before fizzling out. With a sob of relief, the young woman took a few steps and then collapsed. Her chains were removed, and she was led to an open wagon where shivering girls waited, huddled together, for the journey back to their homes.

  Fury warmed Bym’s belly. “So, I take it the Goddess hasn’t been found? You’re still torturing and killing innocent women for the sake of power?”

  “Shut your mouth, turd,” one of Eurig’s friends warned.

  “The Umbra are the ones who mistreat women. It’s why we never see ‘em. They rape and kill ‘em and then feed ‘em to the goblins.”

  “None of what you say is true. I’ve seen how they treat one another, and it is with kindness and respect. They would never put any female through the emotional, mental, and physical abuse which you so readily do.”

  He snorted at her in derision and spat into the snow.

  Contemplating what to do, she studied her surroundings while they waited. The Solis had constructed their camp of wood and stone. It wasn’t anywhere as impressive as the Umbra fortress. She counted the number of guards patrolling the walls, located the gates, and studied the rooftops, searching for archers. Then, she locked eyes with a grizzled old soldier.

  “What did you boys bring back?” he asked.

  “Sir, this is Bym, the boy I got leave to go check on. The Umbra had taken him, so I took him back.”

  The old veteran was joined by another soldier who stepped from the office. He said, “It looks as though the Umbra have already turned his mind from Aurora to the shadows. See? Even now, he searches for weaknesses to exploit in our defenses.”

  Suddenly nervous, Eurig said, “He’s a good boy, sir. Please, we can save him.”

  Slowly turning, the Commander said, “Put him in a secure holding cell until I decide what to do with him.”

  Two very large, dangerous Solis soldiers exited the office and took charge of Bym. With terror in her eyes, she tried to catch Eurig’s attention, but he stared down at the toes of his new brown boots. He was one of them and loyal. She couldn’t depend on him to hel
p her as he once had in the forest.

  “Move along,” one of the soldiers ordered as he shoved her from behind. They walked what would have amounted to two city blocks. Along the way, she noticed huge metal plates had been attached to each side of the guard towers they’d passed. Noticing her curiosity, the soldier said, “Aurora’s grace is bountiful. Light and its reflection are powerful defenses against both your kind and goblins alike.” His partner joined him in a laugh.

  “The Umbra are nothing like goblins. They are the ones who came to our defense and protected us from the monsters when they attacked. Where were you when men died screaming and women huddled together in fear?”

  A hand shot out. She couldn’t tell from which of them, hitting her so hard in the back that she fell to her hands and knees onto the cold, damp dirt in front of the prison.

  “Here’s one for you.” The guard spat and sauntered off with his partner in their stupid red pants.

  Struggling against the jailor was a wasted effort but emotionally satisfying. “Let me go!”

  The word brutal didn’t even come close to describing the man. Even believing Bym to be a boy of twelve or thirteen, he treated her the way she might expect a vicious, seasoned killer, caught after a cross-country manhunt for killing half of their numbers might be treated. Annoyed at how she’d tried to gain her freedom, he picked her up and tossed her inside of the jail, down a set of stone steps, and against a wall. A testament to his strength, he’d thrown her a good ten feet. Above, she heard a gate clink shut. Groaning, she moved to a sitting position, thinking that was the end of it. She was wrong.

  Brown boots, red pants, and a worn white shirt came into view. Dust mites floated in the light seeping through the barred windows. His face was expressionless, making her wonder if he was an unfeeling sociopath and given the job to which he was best suited. This was the person who was currently in charge of her life. Her fear became a tangible sickness. He stopped and stared down at her. His knuckles were scraped and bruised, and she could easily imagine how they’d gotten that way. Not wanting to be his next punching bag, she got to her feet. He lifted his hand, and she flinched, but all he did was point.