Echoes

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by Christine Grey


  “Yes, we have. Aesri and the others have convinced themselves that, in this case, it is Rah’s will we offer aid. They believe Rah has sent us to this moment in time to free the dragon, Brin’du Drak’Tir.” At this, Tianna nodded to the sword at Dearra’s waist. “Not all of Etrafa agrees with her, which is why so few have come, not that there are many of us left anymore. Many of my brothers and sisters think Rah may indeed guide our steps, but it is still for us to choose our actions. Right and wrong are not simply washed away. Trying to do good is never an excuse for doing evil to meet those ends.”

  “And what do you believe, Tianna?”

  Tianna tipped her head and seemed to consider the question before answering. “I believe Rah gives His children the will to choose. I also believe that, as children, we are going to make mistakes, and Rah understands that. I do not think He is as understanding when we make choices to suit our own needs. Where we get into trouble is when we take a statement from Rah and try to interpret it into something that it is not.”

  “I’m still unclear what this has to do with you and Aesri disagreeing with one another. If she feels so strongly about the sanctity of life, then shouldn’t she be happy that you and your sisters are going to stay to try to save the Mirin Tor left behind?”

  Tianna shook her head and laid a hand on Dearra’s sleeve. “We are not remaining behind to save them, Dearra. There are some things even we cannot heal. We are going to stay to alleviate their suffering and save them from a death worse than the ones they already face.”

  “But you said—” Understanding washed over Dearra’s face and she gripped Tianna’s hand in her own.

  “They will simply go to sleep, Dearra. It will be but a sip of sweet wine, and then it will be over.”

  “Will you tell them?”

  “Yes. It is a choice. It is their choice. I will help them only if they wish it. Should they choose to wait until it is their time, then we will wait with them.”

  “But, Tianna, what if the Breken come while you’re still here?”

  “Then they come. We will not leave while there are any here who need us. We are not naive. People die in war. After these, there will be many more, but this is a death unlike a death in battle. The Breken will not just kill them and move on. They are like a cat that plays with a mouse before he devours it.”

  Dearra shuddered. She had seen Breken cruelty first hand, and it was not difficult for her to imagine some of the more inventive methods the Breken would use to dispose of their enemies.

  “And you’re okay with breaking one oath to honor another?”

  “I am not ‘okay’ with any of this, Lady Dearra, but what else can we do?”

  Dearra walked away from the Etrafarian and let her gaze wander. Thousands of Mirin Tor were spread out before her. They pulled carts laden with those too injured to walk. The children that had remained in the capital and had made it out after the attack were now slung on strong backs, resting their weary heads on the shoulders of those who bore them. She could see strong men that had taken up the elderly and carried them as if they, too, were children. The king was mounted on a large, sorrel warhorse, looking every bit like an image plucked from one of the tapestries the Maj used to adorn their walls. From this distance, she couldn’t see the grey in his hair, or the worry lines etched around his eyes—what she saw was a king. He was sitting up straight and proud, as though he could project his strength outward to his fleeing people and share it with them through sheer determination to do so.

  Dearra, Tianna is right, Brin said to her.

  But, Brin, it’s just wrong, no matter how you look at it. On the one hand, they are taking their own lives, but on the other, Tianna is murdering them.

  No, Dearra. They’re already dead. I have never understood people’s feelings on this. You and Darius were ready to do the same thing in Parsaia. Neither one of you would be the cause of pain or suffering for the other, so you chose to end one another’s lives, instead.

  Yes, we did, but you saved us, Brin! We thought all hope was lost, but we were wrong. What if you had allowed us to carry out our plan?

  But in this case, there is no hope of reprieve, no miracle lurking just around the corner.

  You can’t know that, not for certain, Dearra thought to him.

  Maybe not, but I can figure the odds, and so can you. I told you I would destroy myself if you and Darius fell, and you didn’t argue with that. Why is this any different?

  Dearra was quiet. Her vision blurred with unshed tears. When did life get so complicated? Killing was wrong, except for when it wasn’t. She hadn’t ever taken the time to consider how many exceptions to the rule they had made up along the way. It all seemed so very simple: do not kill—unless you were defending your own life, or the life of another, or unless it was war time, or if punishment needed to be handed down to someone who was beyond rehabilitation, or…

  “Lady, Dearra?” Tianna said, breaking into her thoughts. “Do not trouble yourself so.”

  “How can I not? These are my people. These are Maj and Mirin Tor. I am supposed to protect them. How can I—”

  “Because it is not your choice. It is my choice to offer aid, and it is their choice whether or not to accept it. You are not responsible for either their decisions or mine.”

  “But it feels so cruel,” Dearra said with a small sob.

  “It is not cruel to make someone’s pain less. It is not cruel to offer what comfort we can to the dying. What is cruel is that they need suffer at all. It is cruel that people wage war on one another to begin with, but we cannot change that by wishing it away. This is where we are. This is the challenge we have been presented. All that is left is to decide how we will meet it. Even walking away and doing nothing is a choice, but it is not the one I will make.”

  Dearra saw Darius riding towards her. Towsanah appeared to quicken her pace when she saw Dearra.

  “Dearra, it’s time to go,” Darius said to her. “Are you ready?”

  Dearra turned and looked at Tianna, and then, much to the Etrafarian’s obvious surprise, she embraced her.

  Tianna slowly raised her arms and then returned Dearra’s hug. Her voice came out in a hushed whisper. “Pray for me, Dearra,” she said.

  Dearra stepped back from the woman. “I don’t think Rah even knows who I am, but if you think it will help, I will pray for you.”

  Tianna offered Dearra a small grin before saying, “It could not hurt. Go now, and may Rah watch over you.”

  Chapter 39

  That first night was an anxious one. Scouts had reported back that the Breken were moving again, albeit slowly. They were probably nearing the field where the Mirin Tor had gathered only twelve hours earlier. They would likely make camp there themselves, or somewhere nearby. The field never had a name. It didn’t fall on any one person’s land, and the most it had ever been used for was as an occasional stopover to graze cattle or sheep on the way to auction, but now, people had started to refer to it as The Place I Left My Heart.

  Brin told Dearra that it was over. He couldn’t hear the fairies like he could hear the Mirin Tor, but Brin felt each life as it flickered and then was extinguished, until only one mind was left, trembling like a lone candle, and then it, too, was gone. Now there was only silence from that lonely place.

  King Jaymes had granted them a brief rest. They were worn out and heart-sick, and he knew that they needed some time to take what comfort and rest they could before he pushed them on.

  Daniel and the king were holed away in the king’s tent, probably finalizing the plans for their stand at Goat Pass. Dearra’s heart wasn’t in it, and since the king had not called for her, she took the opportunity to wander the camp.

  Darius was with her, but he kept back a little way, so he wouldn’t disturb her while she spoke with the Mirin Tor. People didn’t seem to treat him like they thought he might turn on them in an instant anymore, but they didn’t try to get too close either. He felt a little like a dog with fleas, okay to loo
k at from a distance, but not really someone you want to sit too near, either. He missed the queen. She always had a kind word for him, and she went out of her way to introduce him to people as her brother, though they no longer really needed the reminder, as that particular story had spread like wildfire.

  Dearra knelt beside an aged couple who were sitting before a small fire, holding hands. “Is there anything I can get for you? Have you had anything to eat?”

  “That’s very kind of you, Lady Dearra,” the man said, “but we’re just fine. Me and Amy been together a long time, and so long as we have each other, I reckon we’ll rub along all right. We’ve had a bit of bread, some fresh water, and the comfort of one another’s company. That’s more than most, I suspect.”

  Dearra nodded. He was right—it was about as much as any of them could ask for. “Well,” she said, rising again, “let me know if there’s anything, and please tell the others as well.”

  The old man smiled at her before putting his arm around his wife, and returning his attention to the fire.

  At least the weather was fair. The summer had been a fine one, not too hot, and not too cold, and the rain had been falling gently and with enough frequency that they did not want for fresh water. It pained Dearra to think of all the fields that had been left untended. This winter was going to be a challenging one, and the people would have to really come together if they were going to survive.

  Darius took her hand in his. “Let’s get away from here for a little while.”

  “I can’t. The king could call for us to leave at any time. We can’t just go wandering off.”

  Darius tilted her chin up with his fingers. “You need a break. We won’t go far.”

  She did want to escape for a while, even if it were only for a few minutes. The emotions in the camp were like a raw wound. People wept mournfully, or remained unnaturally silent. The injured moaned in hush voices, trying not to disturb anyone else, who could do little for them anyway. The few children that were there neither laughed nor played, their faces bearing the ghostly shadows of having seen too much in too short a life.

  Dearra was still trying to decide if she ought to allow herself a reprieve when Darius took her hand and urged her onward. They walked for some time until they came to the edge of the camp. People looked up and nodded as they passed, but none of them could offer anything more than that—they were too lost in their own thoughts, and it seemed that was how they preferred it.

  They left the boundaries of the encampment behind, and the glow of the campfires receded as they walked over a small hill and toward the sound of running water.

  They sat beside the small brook and rested on some of the large stones that ran along the bank. Neither one spoke for some time. The sound of cicadas surrounded them. The deep-throated croak of a bullfrog startled Dearra, and then made her chuckle at the rude interruption. She heard a splash as the frog retreated from the humans who had invaded its world.

  Darius stood and removed his shirt. Dearra cocked a brow at him, but he likely couldn’t see it in the dim moonlight. Next, he knelt before her and removed one of her boots with slow, languid movements, and then the other.

  “Darius?”

  “Shh,” was all he said, as he slowly removed the stockings from her feet. He turned from her, and she watched him, wondering what he would do next. He submerged his shirt in the cool stream, wrung it out, and then folded it over on itself. Next, he returned to her side and bathed her feet with the refreshingly cool water. She closed her eyes, and a small groan of pleasure escaped from between her lips. Again and again he stroked her feet with the cool cloth. He turned up the cuffs of her pants, so that he could bathe her calves as well. When he had finished, he rinsed his shirt once more, spread it out on the grass, and sat down beside her. She laughed aloud when he took hold of her legs and swung them suddenly sideways so he could rest them across his lap to dry.

  “Better?” he asked as he massaged each toe, and rubbed the soreness from her heels.

  “Much.” She sighed. The sensation was heavenly.

  “This will all be over soon,” he said.

  “It feels like we’ve been saying that a lot lately. I’m ready. I think everyone is.”

  “Tomorrow,” he whispered. “It’s an interesting word isn’t it? Right now, I can’t think of another word that can elicit so many different emotions. I know there must be some, many even, but I can’t for the life of me think of a single one.”

  Dearra didn’t say anything. Instead, she found herself mulling the word over. Tomorrow is Harvest Celebration…excitement. Tomorrow we will be joined…elation. Tomorrow we harvest the crops…satisfaction. Tomorrow we face the Breken…terror.

  After what felt like an hour, he ran one finger briskly up the inside of her arch, and then gently slapped the bottom of her foot.

  He retrieved her stockings and boots so that she could put them back on before they headed back. His shirt was still pretty damp, but he donned it anyway. The night was warm, and it would dry quickly enough.

  Darius reached down and offered her a hand to help her to her feet.

  Brin’s hiss of displeasure startled them both, but it was only an instant before they realized what had caused it.

  “Tirrred, yesss? Ssso much wasssted life. The missstrrresss can make it all ssstop.”

  Darius had drawn his sword and stood between the creature and Dearra.

  Dearra moved to draw her sword as well, but Darius stopped her.

  “Leave Brin where he is, Dearra. I don’t want to give this creature any chance to grab its prize and go.”

  “Ssstupid Brrreken,” Dibbuc spat. “Ussselesss to opposssse the missstrrresss! If you fight, you all die!”

  “We’ve heard this all before, Dibbuc. We will not give Brin up. Be gone, and bother us no more!” Darius was angry, but he hesitated to try and kill the creature, mostly because the last time he had tried, his sword seemed about as effective as a feather, and he had not even wounded it.

  “You cannot oppossse Ciferrra!” Dibbuc made the statement, almost immediately dropped to the ground, and roiled in abject misery. “No, missstrrresss! Pleassse, missstrrresss. I did not mean to ssspeak you’rrre name.”

  At almost the same instant as Dibbuc had flopped to the ground and began his tirade, Dearra and Darius heard a sharp intake of air and Aesri’s voice as she exclaimed, “Cifera!”

  “Aesri, what are you doing here?” Dearra didn’t know which direction to face. Dibbuc was still rolling around and screaming out in pain, when Aesri materialized out of nowhere, wearing an expression of shock and fear.

  “I…I could not let you go off alone. I only meant to keep watch.”

  Aesri was clearly distraught, and Dearra wasn’t really surprised to see her. When had they ever been left alone unattended? Never, that she was aware of. There always seemed to be an Etrafarian somewhere nearby.

  Dibbuc suddenly ceased his wails and fluttered back into the air on leathery wings. He shook his head rapidly from side to side, and a shiver ran from his head to his tail before he settled again.

  “Dibbuc hasss ssspoken herrr name when he wasss not given perrrmisssion to do ssso, but the missstrrresss isss wissse and hasss forrrrgiven Dibbuc. The Etrrrafarrrian knowsss the missstrrresss. She can tell you. Lisssten to the Etrrrafarrrian.”

  With that, Dibbuc flew off into the darkness until even the sound of his wings could no longer be heard over the hum of the insects.

  “Rah, protect us,” Aesri said. Her hand was clutching the fabric over her heart, and even in the moonlight, it was obvious that she was pale and frightened.

  “What does this mean,” Dearra asked, as she went to Aesri’s side and offered her support.

  “I do not know, Dearra, but if it is truly Cifera, you can bet it is not anything good.”

  A glow on the horizon got their attention. Thousands of torches illuminated the night.

  “They’re on the move,” Darius said. “Come on, we’ve got to go!�
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  The run back through the camp seemed to take twice as long as the walk to the brook had. They made straight for the king’s tent. None of the guards bothered try to stop them. The looks on their faces were enough to tell the guards that it was serious.

  Dearra was panting when she dashed into the tent. Aesri followed some distance behind, as her shorter strides meant she was not able to keep up with them.

  “Speak!” the king roared.

  Dearra was still trying to catch her breath, and her heart felt in danger of pounding out of her chest. It was the combination of the run and the adrenaline, she supposed, but whatever the cause, she couldn’t seem to bring the words forth.

  “Majesty,” Darius spoke. “The Breken are on the move. We have to get the people on their feet. If the Breken catch us here, we’re done for.”

  Daniel was out the door before Darius had even finished the explanation, presumably to rouse the Mirin Tor.

  “We aren’t more than ten miles from the pass,” Jaymes said, calculating the odds in his head. “We should be able to beat them there if we hurry. The wounded are going to slow us down, but there’s no help for that.”

  “Shanks!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty?”

  Shanks rose from his spot on the floor. In all her haste, Dearra hadn’t noticed the man, but Darius looked unsurprised by his presence.

  “Go with Darius. Gather as many of the Maj fighters as you can, and place them at the rear of our march. They will act as our rear guard, should the Breken overtake us before we can make it to the mountains. It will also ensure that our best fighters will be on our front lines when the time comes.”

  Neither of them remembered to bow as they left the king, but such formalities seemed beyond stupid at the moment, and the king couldn’t have cared less about their breach of protocol.

  “And me? Where do you want me?”

  “I want you at the front with me, Dearra.”

  The thought of being separated from Darius was not one with which she was comfortable, but before she could argue, the king raised his hand to silence her.

 

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