“Hello? Who’s there?”
“It’s us, Ester,” Lucio responded in a hoarse whisper. “We’re here to say goodbye.”
“Lucio? Is Teehma here too? Where are you going?” As she swung out of the lower bed in the pale light, Teehma noted her soft nightgown with envy. She had left hers behind at Sirin’s, not seeing the need to sleep in anything but her clothes during the journey. She sighed. No more luxuries for her.
“Me and Lucio are leaving Lascombe, Ester,” she began. “There’s nothing for us anymore at Sirin’s, now that you and Trint are safe.”
Ester felt about wildly for her hand, which Teehma provided. “You can’t leave!” she whispered. “You haven’t even visited us once yet! I told Trint that you would come see us soon. He’s been so upset. He’s been saying you’ve forgotten us. You haven’t forgotten us, have you?”
It was the most they had heard her speak in cycles. Even Lucio began to feel some remorse. “Of course not, Ester. You’re family. We’re not gonna forget you. But we have to go. How can we stay at Sirin’s, knowin’ nobody wants us? Not even the old munkke-trophe? You an’ Trint have a home now.” He looked around the room, admiring its size. “A good home.”
“What will I tell Trint?”
“I’ll tell him.” Before Ester could stop him, Lucio had clambered up to the top bunk and was shaking the boy awake. “Hey Trint, wake up! It’s Lucio.”
Trint obviously did not appreciate the importance of the occasion. “Go’way, Lucio,” he muttered, shoving his head even deeper under the pillow.
Lucio was undeterred. “Don’t be a narfat, Trint. Wake up. Teehma an’ I are coming to say goodbye.”
Trint poked his head out from the bedding. “Goodbye? What for?”
“Teehm an’ I are leaving Lascombe. We, uh…” he faltered .” . .we don’t know when we’ll come back, but we’ll come visit when we do.”
Trint did not seem as upset by this news as Teehma thought he might be. “When? In a few days?”
Lucio looked at Teehma for help, but she was staring stonily out the window. Maybe coming here had not been such a good idea after all.
“Uh, maybe a couple months.”
“Months?” Trint’s grogginess disappeared. To a child of four cycles, months lasted an eternity. “But Ester said maybe tomorrow…”
It was more of a protest than Lucio’s short reserve of tenderness could handle. With a quick pat on the boy’s head, he jumped down to the floor. “Sorry, Trint. We gotta go.”
Teehma offered some gentle goodbyes but Trint was already in tears. They left, trying to ignore the sounds of his sobbing and Ester’s attempts at encouragement. The window shut on the sound of Tertio coming in to find out what was wrong with his two new charges.
It was a few blocks before they spoke again.
“Nice one, Teehma. Such a good idea to stop in and give our respects.” He kicked at a stone. “So much for slipping away, unnoticed by anybody.”
“Yeah, well, if you weren’t such a brute, he wouldn’t be so upset.”
Lucio said nothing in response but kicked at the stones harder. They carried on in this fashion until they reached the eastern gate. The guard there happened to be somebody they had known from their days under Gorvy. He had always taken pity on them, even to the point of bringing them tidbits from his small garden outside the city walls. After a few questions and pleasantries, he unbarred a small door adjacent to the gate and let them out.
Outside of Lascombe’s south-eastern corner was a whole other city: a poorer, more impermanent version of the capital itself. This was where much of Keroul’s peasantry lived, in clusters of dwellings far enough out to tend the fields, yet close enough to seek the mighty city’s protection in times of danger. Lucio and Teehma had been this way a few times before—enough to know that there was little worth robbing—and could creep through the dirt-packed streets with relative ease. By mid-lunos they were almost to the last of the sloping houses and by dawn they had traveled far enough to rest by a shallow creek.
“How far are we going, anyway?” Teehma asked as she fluffed her pack up into a pillow.
“Don’t know. I’d like to get out of view of the city.” He waved his arms toward some fields on the horizon. “I bet those farms don’t have people like Gorvy or Sirin.”
Teehma yawned, trying to disentangle her long hair with her fingers. “Sirin wasn’t so bad.”
“Yeah, but he wasn’t for us.”
She didn’t bother asking what was for them. Yet when they resumed their journey later that afternoon, their predicament continued to trouble her. What chance would they have if they failed to find a farm to work on? With no family, no money, and very little skills, their prospects could not be good. At least with Sirin, they would have had the opportunity of learning a trade, even if they were never placed in a home. She tried this argument with Lucio as they walked, but he would hear nothing of it. His anger at Sirin for taking Trint and Ester away from them had built up to an irrational level. In his mind, anything, including starving under the open stars, was better than living under the roof of “that monkey.” Since she wasn’t about to leave him to his own devices, she dropped the subject and concentrated on replenishing their small food supply.
Several nights later, they had had little success among the farmers. Lucio had spent one day helping a man plow his field, thus earning dinner and a night in the barn for the both of them, but no one was interested in taking on two youths long term. Mostly they just received sympathetic wishes and a few bits of coin.
They had made camp a little bit off the road, dined on some meat sticks provided by a charitable blacksmith, and drank the last of the tea stolen from Sirin’s cupboards. Exhaustion claimed them not long after and they fell into a deep sleep, punctuated only by Lucio’s light snores and the sound of a chipperwick chattering above them. Lucio had tried to bring it down with his sling earlier that evening, but it had evaded his clumsy attempts. Now it was determined to remind him of his failure by keeping up a constant monologue.
Far into the night, they were awakened by sounds far worse than an annoying chipperwick. A combination of stamping feet, clashing metal, and angry shrieks filled the night air. It sounded as if it were right next to their heads. Awaking with an oath he had learned from Gorvy, Lucio jumped to his feet, then covered Teehma’s mouth before she could cry out. The horrible din was coming from the road. In the dim light cast from the triple lunos, they could see thousands of shapes marching past, some of them human, many of them contorted, all of them convulsing as if their veins were on fire.
The two remained as motionless as statues, partly from an instinct for survival, partly because the sight passing before their eyes produced the type of terror that numbs the brain and the body. Teehma’s breath came in short spurts, but she made no sound, even when Lucio removed his hand. Lucio had given up swearing. Instead, he was digging deep for the few Prysm prayers he knew.
It took hours for the horde to pass. None of the gruesome soldiers thought to look into the copse of trees for sport. Each one seemed preoccupied with his own torments. By the time the last twitching shadow disappeared, the morning orbs were beginning to peak over the horizon. Teehma hissed as she moved her aching muscles.
“What was that?”
Lucio looked just as horrified as she felt. “I don’t know. But it made me feel sick.” His voice sounded dull. “Like when my mom would come home late from the tavern. An’ father would hit her for being so drunk. An’ then she’d hit me…” He shook his head violently, trying to dispel the feeling. “I feel all empty inside.”
Teehma nodded, feeling thirsty, hungry, sore, and desolate all at once. “Maybe we should keep going and get as far away from those…those men as possible. The orbs will come up soon and we’ll feel better.”
Lucio nodded as he began to pack up their few things.
__________
There was no way Gair would be able to catch up with Obsidian’s army. With
one voyoté loaded down with two passengers, he’d be lucky to get to Lascombe by the end of the siege. It didn’t help that the road they traveled on was strewn with debris from the passing mob: bits of torn cloth that tangled the voyoté’s legs, some broken weapons, and, occasionally, the remains of some poor soul who had gotten in the Easterners’ way.
Despite the delay, Gair turned a deaf ear to Verial’s repeated requests to abandon the child. Providing a home for her had proven more difficult than he had thought. The few villages they encountered were the same ones who had seen the Easterners pass. They were the ones who had not heeded Reyn’s warning that the Cylini were coming, and so they had witnessed invaders far worse than any Cylini. Not surprisingly, they had also turned superstitious overnight and refused to take in a stray. It took several days of searching, a great deal of groveling, and a sizable monetary gift, before they found a family willing to take her in. Only Ragger was sad to see her go. Verial had been openly offended by the child’s existence and Gair was anxious to get back to Lascombe as soon as possible. He did hope that he had done the right thing. Parents who needed flattery and monetary persuasion to take a baby in need would be unlikely to give it a supportive home. He shook his head. Such considerations were secondary now. What was done was done.
The grueling days passed and Gair knew the army must be drawing close to the city. One foggy morning, that knowledge was pressing upon him. The munkke-trophe, too, seemed depressed while Verial stared moodily ahead. About mid-day, they were all surprised to hear a rustle behind a hedgeline that followed the road. Gair help up his hand for them to stop, gesturing for Verial to hide on the other side of the road. Then, with the voyoté growling behind them, he dismounted, drew his sword, and motioned for Ragger to approach the hedge with him.
What they beheld was nothing more frightful than a girl of about fifteen cycles and a boy of about twelve. They looked rough, as if they had spent their entire lives behind the hedge. The girl spoke first.
“Sir, don’t hurt us. We haven’t been involved in anything. We don’t want any trouble.”
The boy appeared both terrified and grumpy. He looked annoyed with the girl for having spoken, although he did not offer up any words himself.
Gair hastened to sheathe his sword. “Get up, if you can. Have you seen an army pass this way?”
The girl looked around at the rubble. “Yes, sir, we saw it. A few days ago. We’ve been running like scared coneys ever since. Several of the towns are deserted, and those people who were left wouldn’t take us in. I don’t know if they thought we’d escaped from it, or what. You’re the first person to talk to us and offer us food.”
Gair raised his eyebrows at this conclusion. The children did look hungry. He waved Verial over and ordered Ragger to get some rations out of the packs. As the two made short work of the fare, he asked them where they had come from.
“I’m Teehma,” the girl volunteered. “We are traveling to, ah, search for some sort of work. Lucio here,” she waved at the boy, who continued to glower, “said we could find work in the farm fields. But it looks like nobody’s interested in farming these days. What was that, anyway?”
Gair did not relish telling them the news, but he had no choice. They would find out soon enough, if Obsidian had its way. “The army you saw was not made of regular men. It consists of, er, individuals released from the Chasm. Rhyvelad is going through a prophetic time and there’s about to be a nasty battle, probably around Lascombe.”
“Lascombe?” the two cried in unison.
“Do you really think,” the boy said, “that it will attack Lascombe?”
Gair nodded. “I’m sure of it. We’re hurrying back there now to help.” He stood and pulled on his riding gloves. “I suggest that you two keep traveling east. Find somebody from a village off the road who will take you in. And don’t bother traveling to Ulan. The army’s already been there.”
The boy and girl looked at each in silent communication for a moment, then the boy crossed his arms. “We’re going with you.”
Verial, who had watched the exchange with disdain, could not hold back a bark of laughter. “Ha! Why would we want two scavengers to come with us? You’d just slow us down.”
Gair flinched at her condescension, but he had to agree. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come with us. We shouldn’t even be stopping as it is. Keep all the food I gave you and be on your way. But please, follow my advice and save yourselves for as long as you can.”
Without another word, the party mounted and rode off, leaving Lucio and Teehma alone again.
“That settles it.” Lucio said. “We have to go back.”
“Don’t you think Tertio will protect them?”
“Did he look like a fighter to you? Ester has more of a backbone than he has.”
Teehma did not argue. She, too, knew her place was between Trint and Ester and that horrible army. But she did not relish the walk back. The soldiers’ rations would last them a while, but it would be a long, hurried journey. Already her feet were sore and bleeding.
“All right. But before we go, let’s gather up some of these scraps. My feet are going to fall off if they don’t get some help.”
He helped her get together a small bag of material. Then he picked up a pole-ax, the pole of which was broken about midway down, making it almost his size. Teehma dug up the shattered lower half of a sword. Its splintered end looked sharp enough to run anybody through at least once.
“Do you have any idea how to use one of these?” she asked.
“Not one of those,” Lucio responded, hefting his own weapon. “But I imagine you use one of these just like you’re cuttin’ down a tree. This time, though, the tree might cut back.”
She did not smile at his joke. “We’ll just have to do the best we can.”
“What do you know about the Chasm?” Lucio asked as they started back the way they had come.
“Not much. Before we saw those things, I would have said it didn’t exist. My mom believed in it and in Kynell and Zyreio and all that stuff. Father said she was being a silly woman. I always thought he was right.”
“What did your mom say about it?”
Teehma fingered the hilt of her broken sword. It was made of dark metal, with some sort of coarse black cloth wrapped around it. She wondered what sort of hand had held it last. “She said that’s where people went who had turned their backs on Kynell. People who thought they didn’t need him or didn’t believe he existed. People like me…and my father.” She paused. Had her father been a part of that mob?
“You don’t believe in Kynell?”
“Why should I?”
“That great big nasty army might be one reason.”
“That just proves the Chasm exists, not that Kynell does. Do you believe he exists?”
Lucio nodded. “When my father was thrashing my mom and she was thrashing me, I never knew why they were doing it. But I knew it wasn’t right. An’ sometimes I’d feel protected, somehow, even though she was beating the life right out of me. Or at least I knew something was there with me, making the blows sting a little less. I always figured that was Kynell.”
Teehma looked at him with interest. He had never talked so much about his parents as he had in the past few days. She thought that she’d been through a lot, but when she heard Lucio’s stories, she had to be grateful that her parents had kept their abuse to mere words. Not that verbal poundings were much fun, she reminded herself.
“Well,” Lucio continued, brightening a little. “Looks like you might have to start believing in Kynell soon enough. If those soldiers were from the Chasm, it’s gonna take something from the Prysm to stop them.”
__________
Sedgar, Reyn, and Merto were in sight of Lascombe. They had ridden hard, but if it hadn’t been for the Easterners stopping to build siege engines, the army would only have been a few hours behind them. As it was, Merto figured they were about a day and half ahead.
To their relief, they rode towar
d a city already preparing for battle. The residences outside the walls were evacuated, and a high, slick barrier was being erected less than a quarter of a league out from the permanent fortifications. Behind this new defense a deep trench was being dug, filled with sharpened timbers. The ground in between the temporary wall, which terminated at the tree line on either side, was filled with hunting traps of all shapes and sizes, some just large enough to trap a coney, others made from whole logs, strong enough to trap a dragon. All around the traps, the men knew from experience, were buried large, thin, empty clay jars, positioned on their sides. The turf had been dug up, then carefully replaced over the jars. Any man—or better, the wheel of any siege engine—putting his weight on those areas would crash through the thin layer of soil and clay and become immobilized for a time. Finally, large groups of sweaty, tired men were pouring tar in copious amounts over the city’s once brilliant white walls. Casing tar, made from a type of tree found throughout Keroul, dried very smooth—so smooth that it would not afford man, beast, or even grappling hook a sure hold. All in all, it looked to the newcomers as if these were measures meant to immobilize an army, rather than eliminate it.
The preparations were far from complete, and it appeared that only men were working on them. As they rode up to the gate, shouted their names and were let in, they could see why. The women, children, and elderly stood in long lines throughout the streets. Where the lines were going, the evacuees themselves did not know. Even Merto, with his sharp eyes, couldn’t tell. But the lines moved forward nevertheless, sometimes crossing each other, sometimes going opposite directions, but always moving. Intriguing though it was, the men did not have time to stop and figure it out.
Marching up to the palace’s main entrance, Reyn announced that they were scouts sent from Captain Gair. The guard on duty hastily allowed them in, led them to a sergeant, who turned them over to a lieutenant, who directed them to a captain, who placed them in front of General Chiyo.
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