The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy)

by Grefer, Victoria

  Hogarane was a large village. It lay four days by horseback from Podrar, Zalski’s capital, but the sorcerer made his presence known even here. Every stall and peddler in the market had Zalski’s seal in view, usually on stall posts or basket handles. This symbol, a deep blue triangle imposed behind a gray letter “Z,” told everyone the vendor was legal, which meant he paid the proper taxes on his merchandise. Six or seven men in black uniform walked the streets, ensuring no one without authorization sold goods.

  There were people enough on the dirt-packed road, talking and smiling, but fewer laughs nowadays. Kora remembered a time when the bustle was much livelier. Though she had been a child then, she refused to consider that she imagined the change, not with Zalski’s soldiers mere feet away. Just to see them put her nerves on end; she thought of her adventure in the wheatfield, and half-expected them to rush at her with a shout.

  “Remember this place when we were little?” she asked Sedder. “How we’d chase your dog down the street?” No children played that day. In fact, Kora had never seen so few youngsters out. She swept the scene and counted only four: an infant whose mother clutched him tight; a four or five-year-old with her grandfather, who held her possessively against his leg; and two brothers whose father refused to take a guiding hand off their shoulders except when he must, to root through coins to pay the merchants. Even then he maintained his grasp on one of his children, unceasingly, unwilling to release them both.

  Kora bought the flour first. She and Sedder took a side street to buy the eggs, from one of Kora’s mother’s friends who owned a small farmhouse at the edge of town. Auntie Mader, as Kora called her, was the tallest woman Kora knew. Her demeanor was always poised, almost stately, even with a daughter attached to her hip.

  “How old is she now?” asked Kora.

  “Eight months, bless her heart. She clings to her father and me all day. Would you take her while I go get your basket put together? Eggs and babies don’t quite mix.”

  “That they don’t,” Kora said with a smile. “Hand her over.”

  Kora, who had not been invited inside for a reason she was certain was legitimate, as certain as she was that she had no desire to ask of it, sat cross-legged on the lawn. The little girl stood in front of her, grasping Kora’s thumbs to keep her balance. She gave the stranger a queer look, her bottom lip shaking, but did not cry.

  “Going black market, aren’t you?” whispered Sedder. He took a seat beside them.

  “You do it yourself.”

  Sedder scooted closer to his friend. “Be honest, is your family getting on?”

  “As well as any. My mother spends most of the day at the loom. She works herself ragged, and still she won’t let me help her like I want to. I weave some, as much as I can, but she’s faster, so a lot of the household tasks fall to me now.”

  “Like going into town.”

  “I don’t come in often, you know that. We go to the general store down our way more than we used to.”

  A trip to the general store, about two years ago, was the occasion Kora first noticed that the number of soldiers in the region had tripled. The increase happened gradually, so she did not realize right away. The walk took ten minutes, and usually she ran into one, maybe two men in uniform. That day she met a group of five and found two more in the store itself. Mr. Baylor, the proprietor, did not smile like he usually did when Kora paid for a couple pairs of sandals, and he keep glancing at the window as though he was worried about something, something that might invade his shop. His manner made Kora jumpy too, but she asked no questions. There was a good chance that whatever had Mr. Baylor out of sorts had something to do with the army men, who stood very much in range to overhear.

  When Kora reached home, around 3:30 according to the living room clock that had since been pawned, her father rushed in five minutes later. He was four hours early. His graying beard looked as though he had been tugging on it, a nervous habit he had, and his eyes searched the kitchen where Kora and her mother were chopping carrots and onions and sorting beans, to make soup for dinner. He marked who was present, failed to find his son.

  “Where’s Zacry?” he demanded.

  “Why are you home?” asked Zacry’s mother.

  “Where’s Zacry?” he repeated.

  “He’s taking a nap.”

  “In his bedroom?”

  “Where else? Honey, what…?”

  “Do you have black cloth?” asked Kora’s father.

  “No,” said his wife. “No, not on hand.”

  “We need something black. Anything, a belt, a bonnet strap….”

  “I have a black scarf,” spoke up Kora.

  “That’ll work. We have to put it out the window, the front window…. The king is dead. The entire royal family. A nobleman, a sorcerer who’s noble had them murdered, and he’s taken control of the army. They made a public announcement in the village, this man’s soldiers, this, this Zalski.” That was the first time Kora heard that name. “He’s not to be toyed with. He knows what he’s doing if he moved the army in little by little, without us suspecting. We’re to acknowledge Zalski’s rule with black cloth on the door. We have to do it, we’ll just…. We’ll consider it mourning for the king. Kora, go put that scarf out, won’t you? The soldiers will be down this way in an hour or two. I’ll take over here.”

  He wanted to speak with her mother, and Kora wanted to know what they said. She gave her father her knife and left without a word, but she flattened herself by the door, her ear to the crack above the ground. Her parents’ voices were just audible over the chopping.

  “Walten, what does this mean?”

  “Take your best guess. I don’t know what this man intends, so if we’re wise, we’ll take no chances. He’s absolutely slaughtered the nobility, or a fair part of it, if reports are right. Perhaps they’re not. Let’s pray they’re not. That’s all we can do, pray, and not draw notice.”

  “The kids, Walten.”

  “I’ll talk to them. Don’t worry, Dear, don’t worry. We’ll adapt to whatever we have to. My father paid off this house years ago, thank God. We own it outright and no one can force us out of it.”

  “If this man’s slaughtered his peers, he won’t think twice about taxing people like us out of house and home. He’ll lay property taxes. What does he want, Walten? What’s he after? No one takes down royals without a cause.”

  “A cause and a plan. He had a plan all right, and he’s got a brain, to get this far. He’s gotten far enough that I don’t see anyone stopping him. What his cause is I don’t know yet, but I’m worried, Ilana. I’ve never lied to you, and I’m not about to start. This damn sorcerer has me worried. It’s black he chose to symbolize submission, black. Makes sense, I suppose. Nothing mildews the heart like magic, and mildew’s black as ink.”

  “Walten, I’ve told you a million times, you shouldn’t say such things. You don’t know anyone with magic. You never have.”

  Kora’s father’s voice turned harsh. “You weren’t in the market this morning. I don’t want my daughter hearing this….”

  “She won’t from me, then.”

  “That damn conjurer’s army arrested eight men before I left, men who’d snuck down from the capital to incite rebellion. They slit their throats like pigs right in the square, without proof, without trial, just an exhibition to send a message. The victims sent a message of their own, one of them screaming like a madman he had seven children.”

  “My God, Walten, our children! What’ll happen to our…?”

  Walten’s voice turned comforting. Affectionate. “I said I’ll talk to them, Ilana, and I will. Kora’s nothing if not responsible. She’ll keep her head down like the rest of us, and Zacry’s obedient.” Ilana harrumphed. “Zac obeys me,” Walten qualified. “I’ll tell him what not to talk about at school, or anywhere outside this house. He’ll understand it’s important. He’s clever that way. The four of us, we should be all right. They’ve no reason to come after me, because I’ve never bee
n political. We each shoulder our part already. Each’ll just have to bear a heavier load, that’s all.”

  “But how heavy? How much more weight?”

  “I’m inclined to think a great deal. The burden’ll come on gradually if we’re lucky, and we’ll get time to adjust, to build up strength. But what I watched today…. Ilana, not a soul in Herezoth is safe.”

  Ilana spoke with resolution. “If that’s the case,” she said, “we’ll just have to shelter one another, won’t we?”

  “And there it is,” said Walten, “that spunk you have. It’s why I married you, you know.”

  “It’s why you fell in love with me,” Ilana corrected. “You married me for my cherry tarts. Me, now, I just couldn’t imagine life without that crinkle you get right between your eyes when you try not to smile…. There it is.”

  Kora shook herself out of her reverie. She looked down at Auntie Mader’s daughter, changed the subject to distract herself. “Isn’t she an angel?” she asked.

  Sedder pressed, “What’s the deal, Kora? Your mind’s been wandering all morning.”

  Kora wanted to respond but could not think how. She mustered a vague apology, and they fell into silence, an awkward silence: the first such she could remember passing with Sedder in quite some time. Then Auntie Mader reappeared with the eggs. She had wrapped them carefully in cloth and stuffed them, as foretold, in a large square basket. “They shouldn’t shift unless you jar them,” she told Kora. “Your mother can get the basket back to me next time she comes to market.”

  Kora handed Auntie Mader some bronze coins, and Sedder took the eggs and flour sack. “I’m walking you home,” he said. “No protests.”

  “It’s five miles both ways!”

  “I said no protests.”

  And that was that. They walked back through the market at their leisure, then along the forest path. They paused when they reached the road that led to Kora’s cottage, at the border of the wood. The same place Kora had stopped that morning. Sedder asked, “Isn’t this where…?”

  “Let’s just get home.”

  For the first half-mile of the well-worn route they met no one, until three horses drawing a wagon packed with six massive crates appeared in the distance. Eventually, Kora made out Zalski’s seal stamped on the cargo.

  The sorcerer’s famed monthly coal transport, for his personal use, from the mines down south. Four mounted men guarded the shipment, men wearing the same black uniforms as the soldiers that patrolled the market. The Crimson League had waylaid such cargo just two weeks before.

  Kora would have cursed the resistance, had she not been too uneasy to speak a word. Sedder looked as uncomfortable as she felt—he must have read the Letter too—and pulled her to the side of the road to let the convoy pass. One of the guards spurred his horse ahead of the wagon, which slowed to a halt. Kora wrapped her arms around one of Sedder’s.

  “What are you two doing?”

  Sedder answered, his voice crisp, “I’m walking this lady home.”

  He stepped out into the road, but the guard turned his eyes to Kora. “You’re from the outskirts out this way? Where’s your documentation?”

  “It….” Kora rooted through her burlap bag, lines of panic on her face. “It’s gone. I don’t know what happened. I swear I had it with me! Someone must have taken it, in the market, the market in the village.”

  The guard raised an eyebrow. “You can’t think up something better?”

  Sedder said, “She has nothing to think about. That’s how it was. Maybe you’re not from these parts: people lift anything they can nowadays, especially papers. The price they receive for documents on the black market, it’s incredible. Why would she lie? Does she look like a criminal?”

  In a flash, the guard’s whip fell across Sedder’s wrist. He dropped Kora’s purchases. The eggs splattered across the road, their innards forming a muddy goo, though the bag of flour held together. Kora, who had jumped back, could only watch as Sedder grabbed his smarting hand. She jumped as the soldier addressed her once again. “You’ll report that theft. Before nightfall.”

  “I…. Of course, I….”

  “Damn you, you’ll respect the new order, and you’ll show respect to me. As far as you’re concerned my identity’s my rank, and you’ll name me by it.”

  The blood rushed to Kora’s face. She spoke through gritted teeth, marking the two bars upon his uniform. “Yes, lieutenant.”

  “As long as we’re clear.”

  “Yes, lieutenant,” she said again. He rode on. Sedder had to throw himself out of the horse’s path. He nearly knocked Kora over, and she knelt beside him, hovering over him as the rest of the convoy moved past. It trampled the basket and the bag of flour in mini-explosions of white powder.

  The wagon was ten feet away when what looked to be a dark speck rose up through a crack or a hole in one of the crate covers. Even when it glinted in the light, shining blood red, Kora thought the heat, or perhaps her anger, was playing tricks on her eyes. Then she glanced at Sedder, and knew he saw it too. Had they both gone mad?

  The groan of wheels and stomp of hooves began to fade. Kora rotated Sedder’s arm so that she exposed the whip’s mark, a line of raw and broken skin. She hardly caught a glimpse before he yanked the limb away.

  “Shit!” he muttered. “Let the League get them, the damn Crimson League…. No, not the men, just the coal they’re moving. Then Zalski’s new order can break all their worthless necks!”

  “It’s only eggs,” said Kora. “A bit of flour.”

  “It’s food you damn well can’t replace and I can’t either.”

  “You don’t have to replace a thing. You didn’t do a thing to it. Sedder, we’ll manage at home. You and I, we’re both all right. That’s more important, isn’t it?”

  She had never seen Sedder this incensed. She maintained a forced calm, precisely because he could not. “The hell with them,” he said, “the hell with all of them!”

  Public order was decaying by the day. Four or five months ago, no one ranked as low as lieutenant would ever have made such an exhibition. Even a captain would have let civilians be. Whether the resistance and its small victories were destroying the army’s patience, or whether Zalski’s officers were growing confident in their power, just to eat was growing harder week by week. Maybe the new restrictions on time-of-service-based promotion were causing tension among the soldiers. How long ago had Kora read that article, three weeks? Six?

  “What will you tell your mother?”

  “The truth. There’s no way around it. I hope Auntie Mader wasn’t too attached to that basket.”

  “Did you see something strange when the wagon passed by?”

  “Yes,” said Kora. She had forgotten all about the crimson speck. “Yes, what was that?”

  They returned to the road, retracing their steps. Kora walked a little ahead. Lying in the dust, the size of her pinky nail, was….

  “A ruby,” she said when Sedder caught up to her. She had covered her mouth with her hand.

  “What are cut gems doing in Zalski’s coal?”

  “A real ruby,” said Kora. “I don’t believe it. If we could sell this….” She bent down and took it up. As soon as her fingers touched it, as though commanded by a sorcerer, it split in half horizontally. The top piece rose slowly in the air. It spun three times, unsupported by anything, and then flew at Kora’s head.

  A wave of heat ran down Kora’s spine. She felt dizzy, almost like she was going to be sick, and dropped to her knees still clutching the bottom half of the stone.

  “Kora!” Sedder’s voice sounded distant. “Kora!” She felt him grab her arm to prevent her falling forward, and she shut her eyes. “Kora, say something!”

  “My head’s spinning,” she protested. “But I think…. I think it’s passing. Help me up.”

  Sedder pulled her to her feet. Her legs felt shaky.

  “What in the world was that?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” said S
edder. He stayed right next to her, as if he thought she might collapse again. “That ruby’s on your forehead though. Dead center.”

  Kora tried to rub it off as Sedder slid the other half of the stone into a pocket. Then she tried to pry it off. “This is ridiculous,” she said. The jewel refused to budge. She pulled at it again, digging her nails beneath it, but nothing happened. “I can’t walk around with this thing on my face.”

  “Let’s go back to my cabin,” said Sedder. That was no suggestion; his home was half as far as hers from where they stood. Kora felt almost herself again, but as she walked she kept trying to dislodge the gem. Halfway down the forest path she gave up, short of breath from Sedder’s brisk pace.

  “Can we rest, just for a moment?” she pleaded.

  Sedder sat beneath an oak, and Kora joined him off the road. Midday was cool and shady beneath the trees, whose rough and twisted trunks were familiar, like old friends. One supported the two not emotionally, but physically as they leaned back against it. “Are you all right?” Sedder asked.

  “There’s something strange about this ruby. I hardly touched it, you saw me. I don’t know…. I’d feel safer if it fell off.”

  “Want me to try?”

  Kora nodded, but Sedder could do no more to dislodge the gem than she. They were about to get up when they heard voices behind them, approaching voices. Whoever spoke was coming from deep within the wood. Bandits? Kora made to rise, to flee, but Sedder motioned for her to keep still. The bandits were too close; they would hear any noises. Kora grasped Sedder’s hand, which was sweating.

  The trees are thick. Maybe they’ll pass by us. My God, how are there outlaws here? There’s never been outlaws here, not in the wood. It’s too small to hide them.