Children of a Broken Sky (Redemption Chronicle Book 1)

by Adam J Nicolai

Iggy straightened. "You said no questions."

  "That was before," Harth snapped. He looked around the circle, his gaze lingering on Seth. Suspicion sparked in his eyes. He stood up, his hand dropping to his weapon's hilt.

  "Don't," Seth said evenly.

  "You're a Preserver," Harth said. "Sehk, I am such an idiot."

  "I'm not."

  "What is this about?"

  "We're not going to tell you," Iggy insisted. "That was the deal."

  "Then you're on your own." Harth grabbed his pack and made for his mount.

  "I paid you eighteen shells—!" Iggy started.

  Helix shouted over him. "We're not with the Church! Would you just calm down? We're not!" He snorted. The idea was laughable.

  Harth turned back, his eyes flashing. "Start talking, right now, or I get on that horse."

  "We—" God. How much could he tell him? This whole sudden outrage could just be an act. He had a sudden, vivid picture of Harth selling them out at the city walls.

  But if it was an act, it was the best show Helix had ever seen.

  "If I tell you," Helix said, "you tell me how you know her."

  "Talk," Harth snarled.

  "Her husband's dead," Angbar cut in. "The Tribunal killed him. We're going to tell her."

  "It doesn't take six people to deliver that kind of message," Harth said.

  Angbar shrugged. "And yet, here we are."

  "When?"

  Angbar glanced at Helix. "A fortnight ago?"

  Helix nodded.

  "What happened?"

  "They came to arrest him, and caught him trying to leave the village," Helix said. "They rode him down and stabbed him. I saw it from my window."

  Harth searched his eyes. "Sehk," he finally said.

  "I worked at the inn in Southlight. He stayed there. We talked a lot. His wife needs to know, and I wanted her to hear it from me."

  Seth and Angbar were throwing him looks, but there was no need. He wasn't about to say more.

  "Sehk," Harth said again. "He was never careful enough, but he always seemed to..." He was shaking his head. "I told him to shut up."

  "You knew him?"

  Harth gave him a look. "Everyone knows Brother Matthew. The Tribunal Bishop turned apostate? He's a legend."

  He made it sound like Southlight had been the last place on Earth to learn about the man. Maybe it was.

  Harth relented. "All right. Yes, I knew him. He caught me on the docks when I was twelve, stealing fish. He should've had my fingers. Instead he took me to Lorna. I grew up with them." He sighed. "This news will kill her."

  "She has to know. I didn't want her to hear it from the Church."

  Harth's eyes softened. "That counts for something.

  "But I'll tell her. She should hear it from—"

  "No," Helix said. "I'm sorry, but if you want those shells, I tell her."

  Harth glared. "What are you not telling me?"

  Helix met his eyes with silence.

  "We've told you enough," Iggy said, "when the deal was 'no questions asked.' We're not coming to hurt her. That should be enough for you."

  Harth hesitated, sizing them up. He pointed at Helix. "See that you don't. I've got friends in Keldale. If she's hurt, you won't leave the city alive. None of you."

  Seth and Iggy bristled, but Helix nodded. "You have my word."

  Lyseira stood. Her look said, If you're done comparing cocks, can we get going?

  They broke camp. After packing, Helix watched Harth work.

  I hope he knows what he's doing. The man's casual threat to kill them all should have bothered him, but it didn't. Wouldn't he have done the same, if some strangers had wanted to meet his mother?

  "It's a punch in the gut, ain't it?" Iggy said.

  Helix realized he'd been staring south, at the blurry disc of the sun breaking the horizon.

  "Yeah," he agreed. "Hope it's back to normal tomorrow."

  Iggy grunted. "At least the wolves cleared out." He was right; the line of animals was gone. Another inexplicable omen.

  They regained the road, headed north. He glanced behind and saw grey sunlight on empty field.

  Maybe the sunrise had scared them off.

  ~ ~

  It was eleven days to Keldale, with the sun rising in the east and each night growing colder. A couple hours out, Harth pointed to a distant wood. "If something goes wrong at the gates," he said, "meet up there."

  If something goes wrong at the gates, Helix thought, I doubt anyone will be alive to make it.

  That afternoon, the walls of Keldale rose in the distance. It had been years since he'd seen them. Last time he was here, he'd had twelve winters behind him and was riding with his father.

  The wall must have been thirty feet high, cobbled together from great blocks of stone that had stood for hundreds of years. Broad sheets of ice clung to the rock. An occasional soldier passed on the walkway that ran atop the wall.

  With archers on that wall they could take down anyone. He remembered Seth getting attacked in his dream, and shuddered.

  "M'sai," Harth said. "Everyone listen." He brought his mount about and beckoned the others to gather around him. They had finally reached the broad road which circled Keldale, allowing easy travel from one gate to the next. There was snow on the road, but it was hard packed.

  "I'll lead us up, and I'll do the talking. If I say something you don't understand or know to be false, just go along with it. Yes?"

  They answered with scattered murmurs of assent.

  "If luck is with us, the guards won't even question us—they'll just wave us through. Once we get inside, I'll take you to Lorna." He glanced at Angbar. "Pull your scarf a little tighter there, Angbar. We don't need any questions about nogs if we can avoid them."

  The walls unfolded on their left as they skirted the city to the southern gate. The Sunrise Sea glittered in the east. On a clear day, Helix remembered, he'd been able to gaze out at the hazy form of the Grand Isle; maybe even pick out a few of the Fisher Isles, dotting the waves like a fleet of tiny ships.

  Today wasn't clear. The sky was wintry ash from horizon to horizon, the sea a grey mirror below.

  Then he caught sight of the gate, and his reverie ended. There was only a single guard there, but he was armed.

  Helix's heart started hammering. What if he has my picture? What if word's already come north?

  That's the whole reason we took the Wolfwood road, he reminded himself. It'll be fine.

  This was my idea. I talked everyone into it. At the time, finding Matthew's letter in his pack had seemed like providence. It had given him something to work for, somewhere to go. Now, his rationale was growing thinner by the step.

  There was nowhere else to go. Remember?

  Maybe. Maybe freezing in the woods would've been better than getting caught.

  "Evening," the guard called. "More pilgrims, eh?"

  "Is it that obvious?" Harth answered as they cantered up.

  "Come up the south road?"

  "North," Harth said. "Marshedge. Just trying to avoid the crowd. North gate's crowded."

  "Smart," the guard said. "We don't get many at this gate. Half the pilgrims coming north probably froze in the blizzard. Two heels a head."

  Harth counted out the coins.

  "Where you staying?"

  "With family," Harth answered.

  "Lucky for you. Most of the inns're filled up anyway." The guard dropped the coins into a clanging metal bucket, and waved. "Go on through. The book's been in purification for eight days. It's at Basica Tenuor."

  "That would've been my guess. Thanks."

  The gate was already standing open. At Harth's signal, they rode through.

  We made it. Had it really been that easy? Helix wanted to glance back, to make sure the guard wasn't following them, but he stifled the urge.

  They came onto a broad avenue, bristling with clanging bells, shouting merchants, and the neighing of horses. Hawkers and beggars dotted the street cor
ners like pigeon droppings. Street urchins dodged through the crowd, carrying messages or picking pockets. A haze of fish stink hung in the air, nearly, but not quite, masking the stenches of sweat and horse dung.

  Harth sucked in a deep breath through his nose. "Home at last."

  "Pilgrims?" Helix said. "What was that about?"

  Harth glanced back to make sure everyone had come through, then started through the winding streets. "Some holy book—Chronicle, I think?"

  "Second Joshua," Lyseira said. "Must be. I knew the new book of the Chronicle was almost finished, but..." She shook her head. "We heard nothing in Southlight."

  "Everyone in Keldale's gone mad for it. It's always busy, but nothing like this. Pilgrims coming from all over the Valley."

  "I might've been one of them, if I'd known." She looked at Helix. "The Abbot would have loved to see this. It must be Second Joshua. Father Forthin always wondered if Archbishop Joshua was going to live long enough to have a second book named for him."

  "Here," Harth said, nodding toward a small alleyway.

  They turned into a narrow gap between brick buildings. The roar of the main street fell away. A hundred paces on, the alley broke away into two more side streets. After that the little alleys devolved into a maze of rundown buildings and cobblestone paths, the only landmarks being an occasional snow-crusted fountain or sleeping vagrant.

  Helix tried to keep track of the turns, and failed miserably. "This doesn't look like the best area," he muttered as they passed a broken lantern post.

  "Not far now," Harth assured him.

  They emerged onto another broad avenue, painted a bloody red from the sun in the west. Harth marched his horse into the crowd and turned east. The street sloped downward. In the distance, tall sails bobbed at port, stained by the sunset.

  "There," Harth said, pointing at a narrow, one-story hovel sandwiched between two larger shops. He kicked at an urchin who had managed to brush against his boot. "It's bigger than it looks. You can't see the back from here."

  A pool of filthy children milled about in front of the little building, playing hop-box on the sidewalk as the crowd churned around them. One of them, a boy no older than seven or eight, ran up.

  "Harth!" he shouted.

  "Julius." Harth gave him a smile.

  "We're playing hop-box!" the boy announced.

  "I see that. No money in hop-box though. How'd you like to make a little coin?"

  "How much?" Julius answered at once.

  "Normally I'd say a copper heel, but since I haven't hired you in awhile… we'll call it two." Harth dismounted.

  "Uh huh," the boy said. Harth knelt and gave the child the coins, then rumpled his hair.

  "This is it?" Helix asked as everyone climbed off their horses. The dilapidated building was not what he had expected.

  "This is it," Harth said. "Wait here." He ducked inside.

  The kids pulled Angbar into a game of hop-box. Iggy followed Julius with the horses.

  Helix's heart started a long, slow crawl up his throat. He was here. He had dragged everyone along. Any minute, he would meet Matthew's widow.

  What in Hel am I going to say to her?

  "Let me talk to her alone," he said. Syntal nodded, her face grave, but Seth shook his head.

  "We still don't know what you're getting into here. There could be a Justicar in that building."

  "If there's a Justicar in that building, bringing you with me won't change anything." It would almost be a relief, to get caught. No more freezing nights, no more wondering where they would spend the winter. A quick death, and an end to it. Helix shook the morbid thoughts out of his head.

  "I want to meet her too," Lyseira said. "We've come all this way. I want her to know..." She took Seth's hand. "Just give him a few minutes."

  They waited. Angbar pulled Syntal into his hop-box game. Iggy returned with the boy.

  What's taking so long? As soon as the thought occurred to him, he knew.

  "He's telling her," Helix said.

  "Probably," Lyseira answered.

  Finally, Harth emerged from the doorway, his face ashen. "Helix. She wants to talk to you."

  ~ ~

  The door opened into a cave-like pantry hall, its cubby holes burgeoning with clothes, bandages, and grain. The city's din fell away. The smell of fish gave way to a subtle, homey incense.

  The short hallway spilled into a well-lit kitchen with one large table and several smaller ones. A woman stood near the counter. She had a tangle of auburn hair tinged with grey, and a brown dress of heavy wool, dotted with food stains. Her eyes were red and haunted.

  Suddenly Helix felt like a fool for coming here. A callous, selfish fool.

  "This is him," Harth said.

  "Helix Smith," he tried to say, but his voice broke and he had to clear his throat. She shook his hand. Her hand felt small and cold.

  "Harth told me about Matthew." Her voice was brittle. She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Thank you for coming to tell me."

  "There, ah..." He dug awkwardly in his pouch, feeling like a buffoon as his fingers sought Matthew's letter. "He wanted me to give you..."

  He found the envelope, rumpled and stained, and held it out to her. "Here. He asked me to give this to you. I think he... I think he had some idea."

  Lorna's eyes flicked across her husband's last words to her. She sank to a chair.

  "He always said I'd know," she said to the empty air. "That was how he... put me at ease, whenever he left. 'You'll know, Lorna. I'll make sure.'" Her face turned quizzical, as if she'd just spotted an owl in her house. "Was that supposed to make me feel better?"

  Harth put an awkward arm around her shoulder.

  "He loved you very much," Helix said. "He... when I told him he was in danger, the first thing he asked about was the letter. It was everything to him. He wanted... he made me promise to get it to you."

  Lorna was nodding, her hand over her mouth, staring at the wall.

  "All right," Harth said. "You've done what you came for. You can go."

  Helix wanted to nod and back away. The force of her grief shoved at him. He felt like an intruder at a funeral.

  He was still standing there.

  "Missus Rentiss," he heard himself saying, "there is something else."

  Harth glared, his nostrils flaring. No, his eyes said. That's enough.

  "Mama Lorna?" A little boy stood, forlorn, in one of the doorways. "I can't find my slate."

  "Go outside, Joseph," Harth said.

  "But my slate has—"

  "No buts, go outside. Just for a little bit. Find Julius. All right? Go ahead."

  The boy turned doubtfully toward the front door. When he heard it click closed, Helix drew a breath. "They... I saw them kill him. I tried to help him. And they..." God help me. "They arrested me. They said I did it."

  For the first time, Lorna looked at him.

  Harth cursed.

  "They staged a trial," Helix hurried on. "They had a lot of very convincing fake evidence. They even had a fake witness. They tried to get my friends to testify against me. They even said they'd had Communion. But if they asked God, He was lying. I swear. I didn't do it. Bishop Marcus—"

  "Marcus?" Lorna seized on the name. "Marcus was there?"

  Helix nodded.

  "Did he do it?"

  "Not himself. It was a Justicar, Galen Wick. But I think Marcus gave the order. I think they wanted to make it seem like it was some two-heel crook that did it. So Matthew... so he wouldn't look like a martyr."

  "They sentenced you?" Harth said, carefully.

  Helix nodded. "To death. But I didn't do it, I swear. I—"

  "Then how are you here?"

  "We... my friends got me out. We escaped."

  "Got you out of a Tribunal prison?" The words dripped with suspicion.

  His heart thundered. Harth's threat—If she's hurt, you'll never leave alive—suddenly buzzed in his ears. "I'm telling the truth," he swore. It sounded like he was begging.


  "And they just let you go, is that it? Tried you for murder, then shrugged it off when you got away?"

  "Harth," Lorna said. "Enough."

  "No, of course not!" Helix snapped. "They chased us!"

  Harth looked to the ceiling. "Sehk'akir. You sehking idiot."

  "Harth!" Lorna barked. "Hush!"

  Harth fell silent, but his eyes were sparking.

  "I believe you." Her voice was hoarse with weeping, but there was strength behind the pain. "Marcus has hated Matthew since the day he married me. And framing it on you... it's exactly the kind of thing he's known for. He'll come here, to tell me himself. I'm sure he will. He'll want to see—"

  "Mama Lorna?" Joseph was back. "Rinnie won't let me play—"

  "Outside, Joseph!" Lorna ordered over her shoulder.

  He'll come here, Helix thought as he watched the boy disappear.

  Sweet God.

  Matthew had said, Do you have any idea the things I've seen the Tribunal do to children?

  "I'm sorry," he said to Harth. He felt sick. "I'm sorry, I didn't think... I never wanted..."

  "They saw you at the gate," Harth muttered. "If he shows a drawing of you..."

  God, he was a fool. "We need to leave. I'm sorry, Missus Rentiss." I'm so sorry.

  "Where will you go?" she said.

  He turned for the door. He was a creature of flame in a pile of tinder. Everything he touched would burn.

  "Stop!" Lorna shouted. "Rev'naas take it! Stop and turn around!"

  He spun back, his mind screaming, his muscles twitching. My mom and dad. Minda. God, Minda.

  Don't you understand? he wanted to shout. I have to get away! I have to get away from you!

  "I have room for three of you," Lorna said. "In the morning—"

  "No." Helix's head was shaking on its own, threatening to bounce off his shoulders. "No, we shouldn't have come here. We need to go."

  Harth was nodding.

  "Go where, son?" Lorna's voice was heavy with compassion. "You can't go home. Do you have anywhere?"

  "We'll find something, camp in the woods, or Shientel..." Tell the Fatherlord! a delirious voice gibbered. Make everything better!

  "You'll freeze to death," Lorna said evenly.

  "We can't stay here!"

  Lorna clapped her mouth shut.

  Why does she want to help me? something inside him howled. Why can't I let her?