by John Olsen
Gavin said, “You made that story up off the top of your head right here in front of me, didn’t you?”
“Does it matter?” Cleo winked, and his smile returned. “Why did you pardon those people? What is more important than the Accords? Why is it you trust your advisers? Why are you even here, leading this evacuation? It must be deeper than their expectations.”
Gavin considered before he replied. “I pardoned them to make use of what they know. I trust them because they haven’t let me down. They know what they’re doing, and they’re good at what they do. Everything I’ve done was because I thought it was necessary. I led the people here with a hope of safety. Sometimes I wonder if they’re in more danger because of me and what I do.”
Brother Cleo ran a finger along the top of the old wooden pew. “They say the pookas did the same thing with us humans. Untold generations ago, a man was approached by a cat who said he could make him wealthy. The man agreed, and the creature transformed into a pooka and taught him how to create the crystals used to control animals. We have some ability the pookas lacked, or they saw something in us worth helping. But by giving us that power, they also put us in danger of each other when that power is misused.”
Gavin had never heard a story about pookas before and was intrigued. “Why did they do it? Why give such power away?”
“Trust. Necessity. Vision. Fear. Some combination of all four. You said you’ve done what was necessary. I admire your good start, but it’s only a start. The next step is to ask if you did what you knew was right. I think you know what’s right for your people, but all those reasons you gave don’t dig deep enough.”
Brother Cleo pondered the wooden beams of the ceiling in thought before he continued. “You believe these advisers and all the others are worth something to you, as more than merely another subject of your barony. You’ve promised to stand up and represent yourself as responsible for their actions before the king. You’ve done much more than make use of people because of their skills. I see why they believe you are up to the task. What do your people say about you?”
Gavin balled his fists. “They spread wild stories about me, and how I’m this great leader who eats bears for breakfast and slays armies with my burning eyeballs. They see something I’m not.”
“As a Priest of Order, I’ve been reduced at times to telling people that it’s none of their business what others think of them. What matters is within them. In your case, I’ll make an exception since you are responsible for your people. What they think makes a difference because of your position.”
Gavin raised his hands in the air. “But I don’t know what to do about it.”
Brother Cleo folded his hands in his robe. “I know of two fathers who each had the same goal, to build a barn. One reached his goal through threats, bullying, and force, and soon his family finished the barn. The other compelled his family through love, sacrifice, and teaching. The second family built their barn about as quickly as the first one had. What might their families think of these two fathers? They both got the job done with the help of family, didn’t they?”
“That’s a false question, Brother Cleo. The barn isn’t the important part of the story.”
“Right, you are. Later in life, those fathers both grew old and frail, unable to continue their work. They each asked their children for a home in which to spend their sunset years.”
Gavin said, “Let me guess. One got banished to his barn instead?”
“No. They were both given small homes in which they lived comfortably. The children of the first, you recall, feared him. When the end came, the one passed from this life huddled next to the embers of his lonely fire, while the other passed on surrounded by those he loved and who loved him.”
“But this one doesn’t match your other story. The two fathers show the importance of how you do things, where the first is about obligation.”
Cleo leaned back in the pew. “Yes, on the surface you see what each story is about. Like any principle, there’s infinite depth to the meaning of stories below the surface, and principles never stand in isolation. Everything is interconnected.”
“If it will help us to stay ahead of the army, I’m all for changing the way I do things. I don’t see anyone else stepping up to own the problem, or being pushed forward, like in your first story. If not me, then who? Then there’s the second lesson; if not this way, then how? I think I see what you mean, with combining the two.”
Cleo stood. “Then my work for the moment is done. I want you to become the leader they need. I want you to meet their expectations more than I want you to meet your own because I don’t worry about your expectations. I want you to be wise, thoughtful, just, brave, and noble. But what I want doesn’t matter in the least. What do you want, deep down inside? Search it out in your heart. There’s no need to tell me your answer. I’m not the one who feels the need for change. I’m asked sometimes to judge matters of faith and the heart. You don’t need either.” He placed his hand over his heart.
It was a lot to digest. The people expected more from Gavin all the time, but Brother Cleo was right. They deserved a leader who was their champion and protector, and he was all they had. He had no choice but to step up and make whatever difference he could, because he cared enough to do what nobody else wanted to do. No, saying he merely cared enough was avoiding the truth. He loved his people.
He might as well admit it out loud where it would commit his course. “It’s about love, isn’t it? My love for the people.”
Brother Cleo smiled. “You’ve found the greatest motivator. It’s the foundation of what you do and why you do it in any trial.” He set about blowing out all the candles, a clear indication that their conversation had covered everything the priest had intended.
The rumors inflated everyone’s view. He would have to work harder to meet those expectations because it gave the people hope, something they needed as danger threatened. It would still be hard for both the people and Gavin, but it was the right choice.
Gavin thanked Brother Cleo and left the chapel only to find Brother Cleo following on his heels through the door. He closed and latched the door, then fell in beside Jase as they made their way back to the camp outside town.
“What are you doing, Brother Cleo?”
“I’m going with you, sir. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
As they left the town square, Gavin spotted the Cats of the Apocalypse running through the streets together, each carrying something. It must be another training run.
Near the edge of town, a man on a horse leaned over to talk with a man who looked familiar. Before they reached the two, the man on foot waved and ran off back to the camp. Gavin finally placed him as the man who had hit him in the face back at the broken wagon.
Gavin held a hand back to get Jase’s attention. “Careful, we might have trouble here.”
The man on the horse sat up and turned to leave, but pulled up short as he saw Gavin. “You’re Baron Stoutheart?”
The saddle on the horse was cavalry issue, designed to allow for the rider to strap in and slip into a remote trance without falling off. The horse wore a crystal within a harness about its neck. This was no ordinary rider or horse. They were a crystal-trained pair. Nearly everyone considered it insane to take the risks cavalry riders took.
Jase tensed to Gavin’s left, and Brother Cleo took a step forward on his right. “Yes, I am. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I’ve heard a lot about you.” He gestured back to where he and the other man had spoken. “I want to hear about you firsthand.”
Even though the rider breached several rules of etiquette, Gavin didn’t care. He needed skilled people to join with the exodus to keep them away from the incoming army. Antagonizing people would not get him what he needed, and this man had military experience.
“Ah, I see. He and I had a problem on the road the other day. I don’t know what he told you, but I stripped him of his property and assigned him to th
e guard for training to keep him busy and make use of his skills. He has quite a haymaker.” Gavin rubbed his chin.
“Huh. The way he tells it, you saved him from getting sliced to ribbons by the people in your caravan after he assaulted you. Then you put him in a position of trust to be trained to defend the same people that wanted to stick him to the ground. It didn’t make a lot of sense to me, and I thought he might have stretched the truth.”
Gavin smiled, remembering the conversation with Brother Cleo. He needed to work to become what the people wanted him to be, and what they thought he was. This one seemed easier since both sides of the story were true, but colored by personal experience. “I gave him the benefit of the doubt. The people were ready to kill him, so I found a compromise. We can’t go around killing people because the rules say we can. We need everyone we can get on our side. We’ve got to get these people to safety and combine forces if we’re to have any chance of winning against the invasion behind us. We need to put things back together.”
The cavalryman eased his mount in sideways and extended his hand. “I’m Rider Faven.”
Gavin grasped Faven’s rough hand. It would be a wonderful boon to get an actual cavalryman to join with them. “Will you join us on the road?”
Faven shook his head. “There’s too much to do. I’ll see you in the capital.” He saluted, turned, and trotted his horse past the edge of the town before he broke into a gallop.
Brother Cleo stood with his mouth open as Faven rode out of sight. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? He saluted you.”
“What’s that got to do with anything? He was military. They salute each other all the time.”
Brother Cleo shook his head. “No, the order of who salutes who is important among cavalrymen and works differently than you might expect. It’s not just important; it means absolutely everything. Junior officers salute only the senior officers in their chain of command. He’s accepted you as his commander. He took whatever you said to him as instructions, not as opinions or idle conversation.”
Jase nodded. “I never worked with them, but I’ve heard the same of them. They’re an interesting bunch, stricter about chains of command than any men I know.”
Gavin ran a few steps forward and peered into the distance, but saw no more sign of Faven. Whatever he’d ridden off to do was out of Gavin’s control now. He couldn’t remember all the details of what he had said. Gathering people? Something about working together. If he’d known more about the way the cavalry worked, he might have built a better plan. It was a lost opportunity, like when he discovered most of the residents of Richland were gone. Plans were thrown out over and over as he discovered new information and made new plans.
“We’re picking up more people on the road and from the villages, and they’re all untrained refugees. I’m barely ahead of an enemy army, people think I’m here to save them, and I accidentally gave useless orders to our best chance at a real combat force, and I can’t recall him to fix the problem. Keep an eye out to see where the folks of Richland gather to drink and gossip. There must be a tavern that hasn’t been boarded up yet. Maybe a pint will make me feel less stupid.”
Jase said, “Begging your pardon, sir, but strong drink doesn’t work like that. You can trust my sad experience. The best it will do is make you care a little less for a few hours.”
“Caring a little less will do for now. Ah, there’s something.” Gavin approached a building with a sign hanging from the eves depicting a frothy mug, but the tap room windows were dark. Wagons loaded near to capacity sat at the back of the building where men worked to place and tie down loads. Gavin overheard a man with a knapsack as he talked to the workers.
“We didn’t leave Greenvale when he asked us to, and we nearly died. If not for the men he left behind to set traps and save us, we would have been fed to bears. I seen them myself, I did. The rescue was a mercy we didn’t deserve, so I’m for Baron Stoutheart. You should come with us too. It will be a good bit safer than going south on your own. He’s been right every time. He got us all moving to safety, those who listened or were rescued after our foolishness. We’re training more people to use crystals for war animals, and we’re training men to fight. Once we have enough people, he’ll lead us to beat the whole Graven army.”
The workers looked to the man tying the load. He nodded. “You make a good case. I’ll think about it.”
The man with the knapsack said, “We’ve got a little gathering planned tonight in our camp. Meet some of our people. See where you can help. I hear they’re roasting one of the cattle.”
Gavin scowled at Jase. “If I walk over there, they’ll be disappointed I don’t have wings and ride a unicorn. Did you know about this event at the camp?”
Jase grinned. “I’ve been with you the whole time, sir. I deny all knowledge of any party planned to improve the morale of a bunch of people who are tired of walking day after day. But it might help matters if I get this pack of herbs to Lindy soon.” He patted a pouch tied to his belt.
Saleena had no choice when one of her herd came up lame. It wouldn’t be able to keep up, so it was a matter of butchering it while they camped or losing it on the side of the road where they might not be able to make use of it at all. She was protective of Gavin’s herd, but acknowledged they were there to feed the people.
Things were a little different on the road than they had been back home. They had no time for formal feasts while traveling, or all the racks and equipment to handle butchering. But what they did have was spare labor. A lot of people were able to help, so she assigned as many as possible to strip the animal down to the bone.
One of her volunteers, a young father of two with a wife, set some bones aside, not fully stripped of meat.
“No, we need to get as much off those as we can.”
He gave her an apologetic look. “I was hoping to take those bones for my family if I could. I was going to ask.”
She noticed his hollow cheeks and shaky hands as he continued to work.
“When was the last time you ate, Goodman?”
“You see, we only have enough to feed the children every day, so I’ve skipped a few meals. It’s not that bad.”
Her voice grew firm. “How long?”
He hesitated, and then said, “Only two days this time.”
Saleena stared. “You’ve given all your food to your children? I thought we had enough to go around to care for everyone.”
“I don’t want to be a burden. We left home before harvest and had to carry the children. They’re not big enough to walk all day. If I might just take the bones, we could make some soup.”
“No, that’s not how this will work.” She pulled a generous slice from the growing pile of deboned meat and handed it to him along with the bones.
“Didn’t you know we were doing this for a common feast? Bring everyone. And you take this for your family. The bones, too, if you want them still. I’ll get you some flour tomorrow from the barony supplies.”
The man said, “But what will Baron Stoutheart think? I’ve heard he’s unpredictable. If he makes us leave, we’ll starve.”
“No, he’s a different kind of unpredictable. He’ll likely think I wasn’t generous enough. My guess is he’ll take a tour looking for more hungry people in the caravan. My only worry is that Master Quincy will get in the way until Gavin forces him into line. Don’t worry about that. Now, go and get your family. You will all eat everything you can manage tonight.”
A tear ran down his cheek as he placed a hand on his heart. He turned and hurried off.
How many were like him, who didn’t dare, or were too proud, to ask for the help they needed? Saleena didn’t know how much food the caravan carried, but if she hadn’t gone hungry yet, there must be enough to share with those who had nothing.
Like that father and his wife, she would go hungry herself before she let another child go without.
* * *
Saleena wrapped both fore shanks from the anima
l and packed them onto her back intending to drop them off with Lindy, who occupied a large kitchen in town to make use of the ovens and hearth. As Saleena approached, she saw a stream of people delivering things to or from the kitchen. She saw serving platters, fruits, vegetables, bread, and many packages. Lindy’s children, Chase and Finney, were among the people in what seemed to be chaos, but everyone flowed through with a definite purpose.
Lindy waved to her as Saleena entered the kitchen. “Bring those legs right over to this table, dear.” She waved a sizable knife to where she was stripping the meat from some small game and tossing it into a pot. “We’ll put those to roast in the hearth right over there. They’ll make a great presentation there while everyone’s busy with all the coming and going.”
Saleena said, “I can get them set up on a spit for you if you’re busy.” The small game in front of Lindy caught her attention. “You, ah, didn’t get all that from the Cats of the Apocalypse, did you?”
She still unintentionally made things hard for Willem when they were together, despite enjoying his company and friendship. Their conversations had lengthened and ranged over a lot more than just the crystal training. She learned gratitude from him through his infectious positive attitude, yet she still held back. His occasional touch on her arm or hand as they talked sent a flutter through her. Maybe it was time she let her disagreements go and stopped silently expecting him to meet her ideals.