by S D Smith
“Well, my dears,” Uncle Wilfred said to his niece and nephew, “I must attend to His Majesty. I’ll be back. Captain Helmer will care for you,” he said, saluting his old comrade-in-arms. The wall between them seemed to have crumbled, Heather noticed happily.
“My brother,” Helmer said to Uncle Wilfred, “these two just reversed the most devastating loss imaginable today and turned it into an unthinkable victory. I’m starting to think they can take care of themselves.”
“I suppose so,” Uncle Wilfred said. “But I’m still their guardian, no matter what unheard of heroics they have performed.” He trotted off, his relieved laughter filling the darkness as he disappeared into the shadow between fires.
Before the halt, Heather hadn’t stopped running for hours. She had found Captain Frye and Lord Blackstar back at the mouth of the cave and convinced them to gather what strength they could and fly with all haste toward Jupiter’s Crossing. They had come quickly down the mountain. They had met up with Uncle Wilfred and Helmer’s combined band of stragglers and made a significant, and what proved to be a winning, force. They had taken a direct but little-known path and never stopped. They had seen, on their approach, Picket’s incredible flight and fight, his mind-boggling rescue of Prince Jupiter Smalls from two birds of prey and a wolf.
Heather slumped onto her brother’s shoulder. “My arm hurts, sure. But what’s worse is being this tired. I can’t keep my eyes open, Picket.”
He laughed and put his arm around her and held her. “I’m proud of you,” he said.
“Hey, that’s what I’m meant to say,” she said. She kissed his cheek, remembering, when she did, the soldier she had left in the woods. Jo. She hoped he had made it. There was always a cost in these horrible battles, she knew. But it might have been worse today. It might have been much worse.
There was a short horn blast.
“That’s the prince’s signal,” Lord Blackstar said. “Come on, Helmer.”
“Why me?” he asked. “I’m no lord.”
“Come on, Lord Captain of the King’s Army,” Lord Victor said. “No more hiding who you really were. Well, really are.”
Helmer smirked, rose slowly, and made to move toward the central fire. He stopped in front of Picket and held out his hand. Picket grasped it. They looked at each other for a moment. Helmer let go and walked outside the firelight. But he paused, turned, and said, “I guess ladybugs can fly, after all.” He disappeared into the night.
Picket smiled.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing as what you did in all my life,” Captain Frye said. “And I’ve seen wars, Longtreaders. Terrible wars. I saw King Jupiter cut down Garlacks. I saw Perkin One-Eye surprise the eagles of Dell Beck. But I’ve never seen, or heard of, anything like what I saw you do today. If I hadn’t seen it, I would never have believed it.”
“It was a wonder,” Heather said.
Chapter Forty-Four
The Beginning
Several days passed. They expected an attack, but it hadn’t come yet. Intelligence reports were conflicted, but for now they increased security and prepared for war. The trades resumed, and life, albeit warily, went on. Heather made her way through Hallway Round and into the great hall. She waved at Eefaw Potter and smiled at the countless nods of courtesy, the wordless blessings, and the many who humbly said, “Thank you.” Behind her, she heard gasps and grateful whispers of the name Longtreader. Her name. But she would not let herself be stopped by a grateful crowd today.
She walked past the chandlers and the barbers and paused a moment before the door of the storyguild. She drew a deep breath and walked in.
The master stopped in mid-sentence and looked up at Heather in surprise. The room fell silent, and the gathered tale-spinners looked at her with amazed expectation.
“My name is Heather Longtreader,” she said. “And I have a story to tell.”
* * *
Heather’s tale was written down and copied, then copied again, and again. Soon it was being passed from Cloud Mountain families to the Halfwind Citadel’s soldiers. From Halfwind it was copied and passed again to Harbone, Kingston, Blackstone, and every secret citadel. It spread far beyond. It reached even those cowering in the burned-out hollows of the Great Wood. The last paragraph of the story was set apart on its own page, written large across the middle.
The Green Ember burns; the seed of the New World smolders. Healing is on the horizon, but a fire comes first. Bear the flame.
* * *
Picket warmed his hands by the fire Helmer had made beneath his old maple tree on the village green. They had been practicing with wooden swords; their deadlier versions were sheathed on the grass nearby.
“You’re improving,” Helmer said.
“Thank you, Lord Captain,” Picket said.
“I told you, Bucky, if you keep calling me that,” Helmer said, tossing his knife up and down in his hand, “I’m going to make your life miserable.”
“Since the battle, I’ve spent every day training with you,” Picket said. “I don’t know how it could get much worse.”
Helmer smiled. “Oh, it can.”
Picket laughed, then looked up to see Captain Frye hurrying toward them. He stood up. Helmer sat up.
“There’s news,” Captain Frye said, breathing hard. “We just received word from our network—reliable word—” He puffed, holding up a finger and catching his breath.
“What is it?” Helmer asked. “I thought we already knew that Morbin was regrouping.”
“Not that,” Captain Frye said. “They sent word about prisoners. They think they’ve discovered where they’re being held. We believe, Picket, that your family might be among them.”
Picket nodded and took up his sword, buckling it on his belt.
The End
If you enjoyed The Green Ember, wait until you read
Ember Falls
Ember Falls on Kickstarter
My Place Beside You…
The stage is set. It’s war. Morbin Blackhawk, slaver and tyrant, threatens to destroy the rabbit resistance forever. Heather and Picket are two young rabbits thrust into unlikely, pivotal roles.
My Blood For Yours…
The fragile alliance forged around the young heir seems certain to fail. Can Heather and Picket help rescue the cause from a certain, sudden defeat?
Till the Green…
Ember Falls
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