“We’ve twelve girls.”
“And their ages?” Sterling had a sinking feeling come over her.
“They range from seven to thirteen.” Sterling could hear the hesitation in Mother Anwell’s voice.
“I’d like to see them, all of them. Bring them here before me.”
“But, Commander the girls are asleep.” There was nervousness in Mother Anwell’s voice that was not usually present. She was a strong woman.
“That wasn’t a request. You will do what I ask, or I will yank them all out of bed myself and the… pleasantries we are exchanging now will come to an end.” A silence came over the room as the commander waited for the girls to gather.
Sterling carefully changed positions until she was directly below one of the cracks in the flooring not covered by the carpet. She could just see through it and into the dining room above her. Engram’s hair was brown and he wore the full uniform of the Severon. He was sitting in one of the high-backed chairs that lined the room. He had an air about him that frightened Sterling. That cold, unfeeling killer instinct that seemed to twinkle in the light. He glanced down at the floor, but thankfully could not see Sterling through the tiny crack.
There was a long, quiet pause while Sister Treva roused the girls from their beds. Soft footsteps soon filed into the room along with confused questions. “But I’m sleepy,” one of the girls said with a quiet confusion. Tears gathered behind Sterling’s eyes when she realized it was Brigit’s tiny voice, protesting being woken.
“Don’t worry little one, you will sleep again soon.” The kind voice belied the cruelty Sterling knew lay within the Commander. There were muffled voices and conversation, as several soldiers returned to report on their failed search for the silver eyed girl on the Orphanage grounds. Turning back to the girls, he asked, “They are all very sweet and innocent aren’t they gentlemen?”
He stood, and his boot heels struck the floor with a quiet anger. “What is your name little one?”
“Brigit,” Brigit answered, without any fear.
Sterling put her hand over her mouth to mask her quick, frantic breathing. Her heart was racing so fast she thought she would faint. Oh, please don’t hurt Brigit, she begged silently.
“What a lovely name you have, Brigit,” Engram said. “Such an innocent child.” His voice grew louder; he must have stooped down to be eye level with the little girl. “Tell me Brigit, does someone live here with silver eyes?”
“Uh,” Brigit hesitated. Mother Anwell had told all the girls to never mention Sterling’s silver eyes to anyone. Sterling prayed Brigit would remember the rule. She covered her face with her hands, waiting on the little girl’s answer. Please, please, please. “No, I don’t know her.” Sterling released a thankful breath at Brigit’s answer. She’d remembered.
“No? That is most disappointing.” Sterling shifted so she could see better as Engram stood and faced Mother Anwell. “It’s quite funny really, I only asked the child if she’d seen someone with silver eyes, but she seems know the person I’m looking for is a girl.” Sterling’s jaws clenched tightly at the Commander’s soft voice, “I see I’ve been lied to. By both a child and a Mother. No more lies. No more games. No more pleasantries. You are harboring a Devian, and you will tell me where she is. Or you will be punished!”
“Please milord, she’s just a child!” Mother Anwell pleaded for Brigit.
“All the more reason for you to cease your lies.”
“You’re hurting me!” Brigit’s tiny voice squeaked out.
“Tell me where the Devian is and I’ll let this little one go. Her fate is in your hands, Mother.”
“Yes! Yes,” Mother Anwell’s voice cracked, “there was a girl with silver eyes who lived with us for a time. She-she left two days ago, said something about people looking for her.”
“Where did she go?”
“East, last I saw. Through the woods. That’s all I know, sir. Now please, please let Brigit go.”
There was a long, tense pause. Finally, the Commander let Brigit go. “See? Was that so hard?” He looked gently at Brigit, deep into those small, innocent eyes. He smiled lightly to her, cupping the side of her head. “You should never lie to your elders, child. But you knew no better.” He patted her head once before resting his hand on her small shoulder, “You are forgiven.”
Sterling watched in horror as the point of a dagger punched through Brigit’s small body. Blood pooled quickly where the dagger protruded from her tiny chest. Brigit’s last breath was a gurgle as her knees buckled. She landed hard, face first on the floor.
“You bastard!” Hemi roared above, as what sounded like a scuffle ensued.
The girls’ screamed in fright as the two men fought. A chair toppled causing dust to rain down on Sterling. She covered her mouth to keep from coughing. The sound of a sword being pulled from its sheath preceded more screams from the girls.
“Hemi, no!” Mother Anwell keened. A loud slouching thump shook the boards directly above Sterling’s head. Screams from the girls filled the room, almost drowning out the last words she would remember Hemi ever uttering to her.
“Sterling.” Hemi’s whisper reached her over the yelling, “You must go to Kai’Vari.” He had trouble forming the words, his breath was shallow. “The Rin’Ovanas are family…” Hemi breathe rattled in his chest, “Fende…she help you…”
“You’re still alive?” The question was followed by a pained grunt and the point of Engram’s sword penetrating the floor board, nearly slicing into Sterling’s hand.
Sterling covered her mouth to keep from screaming. No. She shook her head in denial. Oh gods no. This man was a monster. A butcher. Brigit, Hemi. No, no, no. They were only inches from her; on the other side of the floorboards was the man that had raised her. Her hand went up and touched the wood that separated them. Blood began to seep through the cracks, covering her fingers and dripping down onto her face. Tears mixed with the warm viscous liquid. He was her rock, the person that kept her world together when she fell apart. He was always there guiding her in the right direction when she veered. And dear, sweet Brigit. This child of ill-fortune, a pure soul that had never, ever caused harm to any living being in her life. They were both dead because of the Severon.
“Hemi!” Sister Treva’s voice invaded the roar that had filled her head, “Hemi!”
“Where is the girl!?” Engram yelled.
I’m here! Sterling wanted to yell out, but the words would not form. If she revealed herself perhaps he would leave the children alone. But no matter how hard she tried to yell out, her voice remained silent.
“I know she is here somewhere and if you will not tell me where she is hiding then we’ll simply smoke her out. Lock them in the chapel and burn it to the ground, burn it all to the ground,” Engram ordered his men.
“Yes, Commander.”
“No. You mustn’t they are only children,” Mother Anwell pleaded.
“I gave you a chance Mother, which is more than what I would have given even to my own blood. Your lies have doomed you all.”
“But there is no one here Commander!” Treva continued to deny Sterling’s presence.
“Enough,” he said dismissively at Treva. His footsteps retreated followed by the tiny screams of the girls. Sterling could hear Mother Anwell and Sister Treva plead and beg and finally curse as they were pulled from the room.
She had to get out. She had to save the girls. If Sterling turned herself in he would surely let the girls live. Sterling tried pushing on the door hoping she could knock the table over, but its weight was too much. She’d have to use the doors that led to the kitchen garden. It was difficult to find her way through the darkness of the cellar. Only a meager amount of light seeped through the cracks in the floorboards. As she shimmied her way over the hard packed ground she knocked her head on the floor above her when the ground started to rise. She would have to squeeze through on her stomach.
Sterling exhaled and inched her head and chest through t
he small space, and finally, with arms out in front she pulled herself toward the opening. She was halfway through when the distinct smell of smoke reached her. It was then that she realized it was no longer light that seeped through the floorboards, but the glow of uncontrolled flames. They’ve set the Orphanage on fire, she thought. Her struggles to get out of the cellar were renewed. She’d burn to death in this dark lonely place if she didn’t reach the cellar doors. She used both hands and feet to pull and push her way across the narrow opening. Her nails dug into the hard earth until finally she was free and tumbled into the larger area of the cellar. She was able to walk hunched over now, instead of crawling on hands and knees.
The smoke had thickened, and Sterling could no longer hold back the wracking coughs. Her eyes burned from the noxious fumes. She wiped her tears and finally found the doors that would lead her to freedom. If she could make it to the chapel in time she’d be able to free the children. The door was heavy, but she finally threw it open and struggled up the stone steps and into the warm night. She lay there for a moment catching her breath as the smoke started billowing out of the underground opening. She pushed herself to her feet and leaned against the railing of a fence. Sterling took a deep, cleansing breath and started toward the chapel.
Somewhere in the smoke, she could hear muffled cries and screams.
Her feet started running, the urgency she felt was overwhelming. She reached the side of the house and ran into the open yard between the chapel and the main house. The sight before her brought her to her knees. Tears welled in her eyes and down her cheeks. No, no, no! she repeated to herself over and over. The roof had collapsed, and the walls had followed suit, burying everyone inside under the flames that engulfed the tiny building.
The uncontrolled sobbing shook her shoulders as the thoughts of Brigit entered her mind. “Brigit. Why? It’s my fault. It’s my fault,” she whispered to herself. Sterling gasped for breath when a course of pain surged through her from the base of her neck. It felt like a thousand needles slamming into her, taking her breath. She punched the ground, nearly breaking her hand, “No!”
“Well, well, well. What have we here? It seems I’ve scared up a cellar rat.” Sterling turned her head and looked over her shoulder. Engram stood behind her, one hand on the hilt of his sword. A smirk creased his lips as he looked down at Sterling. “This ends here little Devian. This ends tonight.”
7
Clever Girl
Dan’Ruok, 27th Ignis, 1021
Finally, after weeks of false leads, dead ends, and dead bodies, Engram could finally go home with his prize in hand. It is tempting, Engram thought to himself, I could just slit her throat. Even after tossing her across the back of his horse, her hands and feet bound, he was still thinking about doing it. But the Orom commanded her alive.
“Stop squirming,” Engram sighed when the girl tried to escape yet again. “You were difficult to find, do not think it will be so easy to get away.” She kicked her legs into the horse’s side in an attempt free herself. Angered at her attempts, Engram pulled her head back by her hair, “Mind yourself or you’ll feel my wrath.”
He was met by a stare from her silver eyes and muffled curses behind the gag he’d stuffed into her mouth. “To think I had you in my grasp when we stopped that Leyenese man and his son. You are a clever girl.”
“Commander,” Phayo pulled his horse up beside Engram, “we’ve made camp ahead.”
“Very well,” Engram spurred his horse into a slow cantor. He took some delight knowing the pace he set was painful for the girl. Engram dismounted in front of the large tent his men had erected for his use. He pulled Sterling from the back of his horse and dropped her in a heap at his feet. “Deal with her,” he ordered. Even though his men were busy with tending to their horses and erecting their own smaller tents, they jumped at the order.
He left her in the hands of his men and retired to his tent. He was exhausted from his travels and was thankful he could finally go home. To his family, to his people. His people, not this dirty, inbred rabble, but men and women of civilization. Intelligence. Order. Obedience. He would be home. Soon.
Engram yawned, removed his boots and sat down on the cot that was his makeshift bed. His thoughts turned to the pleasure he would have in turning the girl over to the Orom. Laying down he closed his eyes and was instantly asleep. He dreamed of the accolades he would receive upon his return to Sionaad. That was until he was woken by Phayo in the predawn hours that one of his men was dead and all the horses were gone.
“How?” He was furious. Every man within ear’s reach cowered from Engram’s anger. He was incensed that the girl had, somehow, in some way, escaped his grasp yet again.
Scoutsman Kerl was on his knees, his forehead pressed to the ground. “Forgiveness, Commander. I swear that I do not know how. But I shall find her.” He’d been apologizing ever since they had found him unconscious next to the dead soldier.
Engram huffed, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
Clever, insolent little girl. How did you manage to unbind the ropes, and kill one of my men, an armed and armored man of war no less? You released all the horses so we could not follow you, and then somehow you managed to sneak past one of my best trackers without leaving any signs of passage? Not only have I lost my prize, but the Shard along with you.
“Phayo!”
“Commander?” Phayo said, bowing his head gently. His most trustworthy and skilled tracker knelt, ready to do as Engram ordered.
“Find her. You have leave to hunt. But I want her alive. However, if she travels with companions execute them. And make sure she watches.”
“Yes, Commander, by your will.” Phayo left the line, paused for a moment looking at the tracks and ran in the direction the girl had escaped.
Engram turned his attention back to Kerl. The man still had his face buried in the dirt, groveling and writhing in sheer terror for mercy. Engram stepped over the man, thinking, a man who shows mercy shows weakness. A man who shows weakness shows fear. And a man who shows fear is a coward. A liability. A weak link. It was time to make the chain strong again, by removing the weak link.
Engram stood behind his scout, tucking his hands behind his back. “Up, Scoutsman Kerl.”
“Sir!” Kerl rose, straight-backed, his hands resting on his thighs.
Engram paced around the young scout, “Tell me Kerl, what do you know of the Devians?”
“Sir?” Kerl looked up at Engram, his confusion obvious.
“Do you know why we hunt the Devian, Kerl?”
“Because they know where the Shards are,” Kerl regurgitated the exact reason all new Severon recruits are given.
“But do you know why they know where the Shards are?” Engram slowly walked around Kerl. The other men slowly stepped out of Engram’s path.
“Uh…” Kerl had no answer for Engram’s question.
“It is because, Kerl, they are descendants of the Elemental gods,” Engram came to a stop behind Kerl. “The Elemental gods, Kerl, were created by the gods of Balance, Orla and Moraug.” Engram pulled his dagger from its sheath and knelt behind the trembling Kerl. “And do you know why that is important?”
“No, sir.” Kerl’s voice was tiny with fear.
“It’s important because the Shards are the very power of Moraug, and the four Elemental gods concealed their location. Devians are the only ones who know where the Elemental gods are hiding the Shards. And now you have managed to let this very important Devian escape.”
Engram ended his explanation by thrusting his dagger up into the base of the unsuspecting man’s skull. He gripped Kerl by his throat, steadying him while he struggled. As his blade punctured the man’s brain, Engram seemed to take demonic delight as he twisted and turned the blade. While the light in Kerl’s eyes slowly faded, Engram whispered gently in his ear one last time, “May the Orom forget your name.”
He let loose of Kerl’s throat, standing as he pulled his dagger from the man’s head. With a qu
ick kick, he sent Kerl’s lifeless body to slam face first into the dirt. “Let that be your grave,” he spat as he turned and headed back to camp.
I’m beginning to feel a little better already, he thought as he walked away from the body.
8
Sly Fox
Central Duenin
Twelve Days Later
Dan’Ruok, 9th Unda, 1021
The heat was unbearable. Sweat was dripping into her eyes, and she blinked furiously to relieve the sting. Even the shade here was no relief from the sun’s brutality. Her mind wandered, and she longed for the cool mountain air of home. Reality settled in and she knew that she had no home to return to. Sterling wanted to sleep, but the images of Brigit and Hemi kept flooding her mind. There was Brigit in the center of the field of flowers holding up a bouquet of yellow daisies, a sweet smile on her little face. The light in her blue eyes faded as tears of blood streamed down her face. Then her little mouth opening in a silent scream as flames surrounded her, engulfing her.
My birthday, she thought, was a day of death. First my parents, so many years ago. And now, my friends. “I am a curse,” she whispered.
She was exhausted. She’d been on the run from the Severon for two weeks, hiding and avoiding any village along the way. She’d fled from the Severon camp on a stolen horse with no weapon, no money, and only the simple clothes she now wore. She had managed to pilfer food from a few isolated farmhouses along the way. The pains of hunger gnawed at her stomach. If she was going to make it to Kai’Vari she needed to eat. And now here she was on the outskirts of Hemrac, hiding among the hedgerow that lined the nearly immaculate cobblestone road for any signs of the Severon.
The village sat in a shallow bowl in the land surrounded by fields of wheat and corn. The hedgerow she lay under sat atop one of the rolling hills overlooking and leading to the quiet village below. It was perfect for watching the comings and goings of the village inhabitants. She had stumbled upon this village the previous night during a storm and had hidden in one of the outlying barns for safety. She’d risen before the moonset and hid among the hedges before any of the citizens were up for their morning chores. She’d known that riding into any village on a horse branded by the Severon Militia was asking for trouble. Especially one with a saddle that no doubt had the seal of a Severon Commander.
The Elemental Union: Book One Devian Page 5