Servants and Followers

by Courtney Bowen

  * * * *

  Smidge staggered out of town, grimacing at the pain in his back from the whipping he’d received and rubbed his hand through the bristly remnants of his hair. He wondered if it would ever grow back again after Habala burned part of it.

  Habala still had her powers, despite years of disuse and distrusting them. Perhaps she should’ve burned him completely if she didn’t ever want him coming after her, Brigga, Old Man or Geda for what they did to him.

  He heard a horse whining ahead, and looked up at thirty or so men riding into Coe Baba, dressed in uniforms he recognized from descriptions. Soldiers from Coe Aela weren’t quite what he’d been expecting, but they were good enough for him.

  “Ho! I embrace the darkness!” he called, coming up towards them.

  He remembered the last Follower from out of town he’d encountered about a month ago, the farmer who’d strode into town singing, ‘I embrace the darkness,’ the watchword and greeting for other Followers of Doomba. Luckily, almost everybody in town had gone to the militia tryouts, so Smidge was the only one who heard him and replied.

  The farmer should’ve been more careful. No wonder he’d disappeared not long afterwards, probably killed. In Coe Baba, with Old Man watching, it paid to be careful.

  Smidge had survived for all these years by keeping his head down, while other Followers and Servants of Doomba had been caught and killed by Old Man and his accomplices. Berevus had been one of the last standouts, a Follower who’d also followed Smidge’s example. But something must’ve happened the night of the forest fire, and Berevus must’ve gotten caught, which was unfortunate.

  Berevus had been one of his best friends, one of the few Followers he’d truly trusted, as it was hard to make friends with other Followers. Like many Followers, he often suspected others of mistreating or misusing him, with a ruthless nature that could turn against anyone he felt was threatening him and his enterprise.

  But he still wanted to be trusted, loved, and liked well enough by those who called him a friend, neighbor, and family member. At times, Smidge was reluctant to jeopardize his life here in Coe Baba, if it should come out that he was a Follower of Doomba. Of course, every now and again he took a risk, for the sake of proving that he was still a Follower of Doomba and could be trusted to fulfill any task that fell his way.

  That meant sending the rats, crows, gruelmoff and more after Basha, or at least on Basha’s trail, so it might seem he was helping them find the tiger of light. But nothing substantial was ever discovered, especially when the rats, crows, gruelmoff and more were killed off, probably by Old Man.

  Smidge wasn’t even certain Basha was the tiger of light, just that it might be possible as similar as Basha’s circumstances was to the Tiger Prophecy. Yet at the same time, he’d wanted to be known as the good uncle, who could be trusted to give his nephews a fun time, quite different from their father Geda, the disciplinarian.

  It was quite a conundrum and paradox as Smidge felt a little guilty about how frightened Basha, and possibly Oaka, might’ve been, facing those dangers. But at least Old Man had protected them, the one good thing, embarrassing as it was.

  But now that Basha and Oaka were gone and not in his way any more, he didn’t have to feel guilty about them. Especially after what Brigga, Habala, Geda and Old Man had done to him, Smidge wanted to step out and show that he was a true Follower of Doomba without Old Man getting in his way.

  He’d crush Old Man the next time he faced him, and if he were so inclined, he might crush Geda, Habala, and Brigga as well for ruining his life all of these years.

  “For the darkness is power in the night,” The soldier at the head of the troop halted his fellows.

  “Welcome to Coe Baba, how may I be of service?” Smidge asked, bowing.

  “We’re here to find out the whereabouts of a small group who escaped from Coe Aela, with rumors that they’re Knights of Arria.” The soldier described them.

  “Knights of Arria?” Smidge asked, stunned.

  Could it be Basha and Oaka, with whoever was accompanying them? No Sir Nickleby to protect them? That was a relief in some small way, though he was deeply disturbed. His own nephews?

  “Um, I’m not sure, but I don’t believe they’re here.” Smidge thought fast. “However, if you want to check, the townspeople are holding a mayoral debate in town square. Everyone should be there, a couple hundred people at least. If you want a large audience to make your inquiries from, that’s your best bet.”

  “Thank you, but a couple hundred people?” the soldier asked.

  “At least. It’s a large, enclosed space, surrounded by a lot of buildings. The only ways in and out are by this main road, the side road leading to the rich and poor neighborhoods and factories by the river, and alleyways that lead out into the fields and forest.”

  “Thanks,” The soldier turned back to his men as he started issuing orders.

  “You’re very welcome,” Smidge said.

  He’d no idea about what might happen next, or not much besides the obvious. Hopefully, whatever might happen next, Brigga, Geda, and Habala would all be caught up in it, which made him feel very pleased.

  Still, he’d no longer be welcomed here ever again if they found out, but at least he was already fleeing. He turned and left Coe Baba.

  * * * *

  As the soldiers split up into three groups, one heading north into the forest, one heading south to reach the side road, and the other still heading west to reach town square, Brigga trembled in an alleyway. She’d known Smidge was horrible and suspected him of being a Follower of Doomba, but to actually see it confirmed frightened her more than she could say.

  She watched Smidge leave Coe Baba, just to make sure he was gone for good before she headed for the mayoral debate, but now she didn’t know what to do. Should she confront Smidge or warn the townspeople, but the soldiers were riding straight for the square, how could she get ahead of the soldiers to warn them in time?

  She was too late, too helpless, and whatever she did, there was no way she could stop any of this from happening. No, wait, if anyone could help, it’d be Old Man, though he should’ve been here already, keeping an eye on Smidge.

  He’d answer for his neglect. She headed off towards the Old Man’s cottage, wondering if he was there.

  * * * *

  “This is terrible,” Talia said. “I’m bored!”

  “Don’t you think it’s interesting—” Jawen tried to say.

  “No, Father’s going to win no matter what Habala says, so why’d we come to this stupid boring debate?”

  Jawen sighed. She’d gotten the idea, after trying to convince Hastin to see Sisila, and then Sisila refused, that perhaps she should try to reconcile with her own family. She’d see them more often, even though she’d moved out for good, just so she wouldn’t lose them completely.

  But then her father announced he was running for mayor, and though she thought that was a bad idea when he’d be in control of everything, she decided to support his bid as a gesture of goodwill. But then Habala was running for mayor as well.

  Basha wouldn’t like it if she went against his mother and Habala was a nice person who stood up against Smidge and protected her friend. What was she supposed to do?

  “This is the only chance we’ll get to decide who’s going to rule us, these mayoral elections.” Jawen said. “Everything else is just up for someone else to decide, or is just a matter of happenstance and fate. We can’t always make major life decisions like this on our own.”

  Talia rolled her eyes. “Wake me up when it’s over.”

  Another bad thing about being reunited with her family was spending more time with Talia. “Oh, what fun they’ll have together again,” her mother Mawen had said, “The two oldest girls back together,” so they’d been paired up. Yay.

  “I say we’re fine here in terms of citizenship and citizenry,” Lapo argued. “In fact, what we should do is expand our factories and mills, fell more timber further int
o the forest. We can become more self-sufficient and self-governing. We can extend ties to other communities, but I suggest the best ties are mercantile in nature. We don’t need any more than that.”

  “He might have a point, though he’d be the one to profit from them and just having trade relations with other towns is too limiting.” Jawen commented.

  “Snore.” Talia tilted her head back.

  “Pay attention! I missed the militia tryouts this year, I’m not missing this!”

  “It’s nothing to get excited about. It’s just a debate.”

  Everything happened around Jawen, yet she wasn’t a part of it. She’d neglected to participate, to witness the spectacle, and for that she was left behind without any knowledge of what had happened.

  So she was forced to scramble to understand or else she’d be further left behind. It made her feel important to have that knowledge, to be a part of everything.

  She wanted to learn more, even though she’d restrained herself too much in the past and others had added to her bonds. She felt restricted by her sense of self and place.

  It could only get worse unless she changed herself. So she was here, hoping to learn and experience something different with this debate.

  * * * *

  The murmuring in the crowd increased as people debated whether Habala or Lapo were right or wrong. Sisila stood amongst them, debating whether or not she should leave as she was starting to feel a little queasy.

  Suddenly Iibala appeared next to her. “You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you, because of what I said?”

  “We shouldn’t talk about this. It’s not true.” Sisila said.

  “Yes, you’re just too scared to believe in it. I want to prove it to you, but I haven’t got much evidence, and you wouldn’t like it if you saw it.”

  “Jawen was right, I shouldn’t believe you.”

  “You shouldn’t have said anything to Jawen, she could talk!”

  “I didn’t, I just mentioned your name, and she told me I shouldn’t trust you. I’m half inclined to believe her.”

  “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, what we’re dealing with!”

  * * * *

  Jawen thought she heard her name being called several times. “Talia, did you hear that?”

  “Did father say we need more or less taxation?” Talia asked.

  “No, Iibala’s talking with Sisila!” She gasped, spotting the other pair of girls in the distance. “I told Sisila to stay away from her!”

  “Now look who isn’t paying attention.” Talia muttered.

  “Come on.” Jawen tugged her younger sister’s hand to confront them.

  “I want to go home.”

  Jawen shushed Talia and they stopped a few feet away behind Iibala and Sisila. She listened in, wondering what they were talking about.

  * * * *

  Brigga pulled open the door to Old Man’s hut, hurrying as she feared the soldiers were already in the town square. The hut was barely large enough for the room it contained, and she immediately spotted him sleeping on his cot in the corner.

  “‘It’s raining, it’s pouring, the Old Man is snoring,’” Brigga grumbled as she rushed over. “‘He went to bed and bumped his head,’” She slapped him slightly on the back of his head, “‘And couldn’t get up in the morning.’ Wake up! You’re supposed to be doing your duty.”

  Old Man groaned, rubbing the back of his head. “What was that for? Where’d you hear that song from?”

  “Our daughter sang that song sometimes, just after she came back from that portal trip to another world, but never mind that for now! There are soldiers heading for town square, if they aren’t there already, as directed by Smidge.”

  “Smidge?” Old Man got out of bed and pulled on a cloak. “What sort of soldiers are they? Armed?”

  “Of course they’re armed! I don’t know who they are, but they’re wearing black and green uniforms.”

  “Coe Aela! This is deathly serious. Stand aside, you’re on top of the trapdoor.” Brigga moved to the far side of the hut as Old Man removed a rug, revealing a trapdoor he opened. “Has it been more than seven minutes since you saw them?”

  “Yes, it took me a few minutes to get here.” Brigga stared down into the secret basement beneath Old Man’s hut.

  Nisa had told her amazing stories of the bunker or base of operations buried beneath the earth with a series of large, dark, air-tight rooms, some of them full of arcane, complex machinery called computers from that other world Nisa visited. Here he controlled the magical shield protecting Coe Baba and watched out for Followers and Servants of Doomba in the area.

  Nisa had been down there many times assisting her father, but Brigga had never been down there before, even after she’d learned of its existence. She was too frightened about what she might find, what sort of secrets they’d kept from her for all these years. She didn’t want to get trapped in the Old Man’s dungeon, sucked into his well of secrets.

  “Well, I suppose time travel’s out of the question,” Old Man muttered as he climbed down below. “It’s got a limited range.”

  “Time travel?”

  “I’ll explain later.” He returned a couple minutes later with a device she didn’t recognize attached to his belt like a sword, and a branch-like whip slung over his shoulder, the willow whip as Nisa called it. “I better go see if there’s anything that can be done to stop them or capture them if it’s too late.”

  “Be careful,” Brigga said as he closed and covered up the trapdoor.

  “I always am,” Old Man said, and suddenly Brigga reached over, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him. He sighed. “Be careful yourself, and stay here.”

  He left and Brigga stood there, the sensation of her lips touching his lingering, until it vanished like the wisp it was.

  “Malakel it,” she whispered. It happened too easily, and it was too hard to bear. She couldn’t fall in love with him again.

  Meanwhile, unseen but perhaps not unnoticed by Brigga, Kala’s ghost sat on the cot in the corner, singing, “‘He went to bed and bumped his head and couldn’t get up in the morning.’ If only it were morning already,” she murmured. Brigga felt a soft, cold breeze, and shivered.

  Chapter 17

  Heartbeats

  I wanted to believe that

  Nothing could ever happen,

  That nothing could ever go wrong.

  How wrong I was in the end.

  ~ General Marius’s Memoir, Urso

  “Jawen’s been by my side for years. I trust her as she trusts me. I can’t say the same for you.” Sisila said.

  “That’s because I never got the chance to earn that. I might’ve been flighty, but I never hurt you. Jawen lost my friendship a long time ago. She’d been the first to abandon me when I started going wild. She’s far too strict. I think we could’ve remained friends, were it not for Jawen influencing you too much.” Iibala said.

  “You may be right, but that still doesn’t mean I believe Basha’s the tiger. How’s your father?” Sisila asked.

  “Doing well, recovering. He can sit up in bed, move about a bit with assistance, but he can’t walk on his own. Mirari said it’d be a while still before he’s able to. She’s treating him right now at home.”

  Talia and Jawen looked at each other, their eyes widening. They were talking about Sir Nickleby?

  “What’s he said about Basha and Oaka?” Sisila asked.

  “He’s a little close-lipped even by his standards, probably depressed, but what he’s said confirmed my suspicions. They were traveling along when some Black Wolves started chasing them.” Iibala said.

  Talia and Jawen covered their mouths, unable to let out a gasp. What was going on here? Was this real? Were Iibala and Sisila really keeping such a secret? And what had happened to Basha and Oaka?

  “Why can’t you ever reassure me everything is going to be all right?” Sisila asked.

  Suddenly, they heard pounding hooves coming this way
, and people looked up in astonishment. Lapo and Habala stopped arguing to watch eleven men in black and green uniforms ride their horses to the edge of the crowd before halting.

  Talia clutched Jawen’s arm tightly. “I want to go home.”

  “Me, too.” Jawen patted her sister’s arm. She didn’t know where these soldiers came from, but they certainly didn’t belong here.

  Iibala noticed Jawen and Talia. “Sisila, we’re not alone!” She pointed.

  “Do you think they might’ve heard us?”

  “Doubtful,” Iibala said, though she was worried their secrets would be exposed.

  * * * *

  “What’re they doing here?” Rajar stared at the soldiers.

  “I’ve no idea,” Hastin said, though his grip tightened on the wooden practice sword. He glanced towards Daneuve River and Mila Forest, wondering if it was safe and clear. “Fence, Rajar, I want you two to stay here. If something happens, a fight perhaps, get away.”

  “What? You want us to abandon you?” Fence said.

  “That’s an order, and a good soldier obeys orders. If everything turns out all right, I’m going to talk with my father about electing a new head of the militia, who’ll train twelve-year-olds like you. Got that?”

  “Right, Hastin.” Fence nodded.

  “Good luck!” Rajar called out as Fence pulled him back into the alleyway. “Let me go,” he muttered.

  Hastin left the alleyway, and circulated through the crowd, suggesting that perhaps women and children should evacuate the area, heading off towards the alleyways or down the side road, if anything bad should happen. A few considered and followed his suggestions, as he began to look for Sisila and Jawen.