by Matt Heppe
“A noble, maybe,” Belor corrected. “There’s only one king.”
“I suppose you’re right. I wonder if his house is so large.”
“Much larger, I imagine.”
Hadde took in the ruined structure and the fallen cottages. “Maybe the Wasting is worse here. Maybe there are no more Saladorans. Only those silver-eyes.”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said as his gaze wandered over the surroundings.
Hadde glanced at him. He sounded less than confident. “How would you know if there were no more Saladorans?”
“We would’ve heard it. We just need to go on a little farther.”
“We hardly hear from other Landomeri any more. Only Fallingbrook. The Saladorans could be long gone and we would have no way of knowing it.” They rode to the back of the huge house.
“Most of the roof is there, but I don’t want to sleep under it,” Belor said.
The two hunters quickly established a camp in the shelter of a collapsed cottage. Hadde cared for their mounts while Belor set up their lean-to. “Do you think you should do that?” Hadde asked as Belor unlaced his aketon.
“What? Take off my armor?”
“We should sleep in it. And we should keep no fire tonight. There could be more of those men about.”
He sighed as he glanced around. “Hadde, this is no different than last night. It is no more dangerous now that we are in Salador."
“I would rather be prepared.”
"I'd like to get some real sleep, and I can't do that in armor."
"I'm wearing my armor." She gave him a pointed stare.
He shrugged and gave her a smile. "And I'm not."
The distant howls of wolves kept Hadde awake long into the night.
That and the discomfort of sleeping in aketon and mail. She shifted under her blanket and glared at the contentedly sleeping Belor. Taking off her mail would certainly wake him. She'd never hear the end of it.
Hadde tried to will herself to sleep, but doubts crept into her mind as she thought about the decaying manor house. The ruined structure didn’t bode well for their mission. What if there truly were no more Saladorans? Or just a few scraping by against the Wasting? A king who couldn’t even keep his own kingdom from falling would have little charity for Landomere. And little value for a gold chain.
A fool’s errand, she thought.
***
They rode three days deeper into Salador. With each day, Hadde grew more restless, fearful that their task was hopeless. They had passed two villages, one abandoned, and one recently destroyed.
The first had been long deserted. Several years or more. But the second showed signs of having been attacked within the past month or so. Nothing of value remained in the village. At first Hadde thought the attackers had looted everything. But even things of no value to raiders had been taken. She imagined the villagers had driven off the attackers and then abandoned their homes, taking the meager belongings with them.
Or had they been defeated and taken off into captivity? She looked across the muddy fields surrounding the village and understood why they had left in either case. There wasn’t anything to stay for. The Wasting had taken everything.
On the fourth day Hadde and Belor came upon a wide road paved in stone. Hadde stared off into the distance. The road ran unbroken, perfectly straight as far as she could see. “This is amazing,” she said, staring at the flawless construction.
“It must be the road from Del-Oras to Mor-Oras. Look over there.” Belor pointed. Four arrowflights away stood a walled fort. “It’s a real town, I think. At the very worst I think we’ll be able to buy shelter with a link of gold.”
“If it isn’t abandoned.”
“We’ll find people there.”
“Belor, if we don’t find anyone, I think we should return to Landomere.”
“Don’t give up yet. We’re still a long way from the big cities. Come on.” Hadde followed Belor as he led her up the road. The fort stood on a flat plain with little cover nearby. A few patches of forest grew less than
six arrowflights from its walls.
“It looks abandoned,” Hadde said. “Not a wisp of smoke from the cottages or from behind the wall.” She examined the fort as they approached. Wooden walls sat on a stone foundation that led into a dry moat. Offset on one side was a short square tower, its bottom half stone. Next to the tower a wooden gate rested half open. They rode to within twenty strides of the tower.
“Hello! Is anyone there?” Belor called out. There was no response.
A wooden bridge spanned the moat. Thick ropes lay strewn across the heavy timbers. Someone had cut the heavy cables, leaving the drawbridge useless for defense.
“No one here,” Belor said.
“Hold the horses. I’ll take a look,” Hadde said. She dismounted, and with her bow ready, crossed the bridge and peered inside the gate. Beyond, she saw an open square with wattle and daub buildings built into the outer walls. Along one wall rested a line of wagons and carts. All had been heavily laden. And all had been burned to the ground.
A scrawny rabbit nibbled at a patch of weeds near a broken wagon wheel. Hadde drew and loosed her arrow, but the rabbit sprang away at the last moment. It disappeared under a wagon before she could draw again.
“What is it?” Belor called to her.
“A rabbit.” She entered the fort. There was nobody living there. If it hadn't felt abandoned, the rabbit was proof of it.
Hadde glanced over the wagons. Why had they been burned? She saw no sign of attack. And then she thought back to the abandoned village. The villagers had come here in hopes of succor. But when they arrived, they found an empty fort.
And then they abandoned hope.
***
“This is the best I’ve felt since we started the journey,” Hadde said. “Such a relief to wash off all that dirt and sweat.” She knelt before their fire and ran her comb through her still-wet hair. The fire’s warmth felt wonderful against her naked body.
She and Belor had set up camp in the upper floor of the fort’s gatehouse tower. Debris filled the room, but at least it was secure. The iron-shod door barred entry. A ladder in the corner led to a trapdoor that gave access to the roof. The horses were safely stabled on the ground floor. Hadde heard them shuffling below.
They hadn’t only secured the tower but also managed to close and bar the fort’s main gate. For the first time since leaving the sanctuary of Landomere, Hadde felt safe.
“It’s great to be clean again,” Belor said as he wrung out his wet leggings. “And it’s great to see you all clean again as well.”
Hadde didn’t have to look at him to know that he was ogling her. “I knew I should have locked you out of the tower when I had the chance.”
He laughed. “You’ve had that mail suit on four days straight now. You can't blame me for appreciating that you’ve taken it off. That and more.”
“You’ve seen me like this before.”
“And I never tire of it.”
“To my eternal suffering.”
“Ha, funny. You never complained before.”
Hadde smiled and stirred the pot of split peas she had placed on the fire. “It seems so strange. An entire town abandoned. Why would they leave such a place?”
Belor joined her by the fire. He wore only a breechcloth, but she pretended not to notice. He brushed a loose strand of hair back from her face. “Your wound is nearly healed. You're lucky the Wasting didn't get into it.”
“Mother is a good herbalist. It didn't bother me after the first few days.”
Belor glanced around the room. “I’m certain some held on as long as they could. But when the travelers stopped coming down the road, and the residents were too few to hold the fort, they probably departed for Mor-Oras.”
“Maybe the cities are just as empty.”
“They can’t be. I’m sure we’ll find someone soon.”
“We should go back.” She glanced at him to see his reaction
.
Belor shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Belor... ”
“We can’t give up hope! There must be someone who can help us.”
“And if there isn’t?”
“We’ll go home.”
“When? Because… well, I’m giving up hope.”
For a time they both stared into the fire.
“Hadde... do you know why I want so much for this task of ours to succeed?”
“You want the Wasting to end.” She said the obvious answer, but she knew he had more to say. “I know how much you hate the Wasting.”
“More than just that. I want us to succeed for us. I know I've dodged your questions before—”
“Not just my questions. You dodge me. I never know which Belor I will happen into.”
“I know. And I'm sorry for it.”
“You know I love you, Belor.” She looked into his eyes as she said it. “I've loved you ever since I first arrived in Long Meadow.”
“It didn't stop you from befriending Geros.”
“What was I supposed to do?” A flush of anger crossed her cheeks. “There was always...”
Her words died as Belor looked away from her and into the fire. “There was always Ina,” he finished for her. “But the Wasting took Ina and the baby from me. I won't have it happen again. I won't go through it again.”
Hadde reached out and touched his arm. “I know, Belor. And I accept the way we are. Don't mind my parents. I don't mind that we don't share a hearth. We spend as much time—”
“It does matter,” he said, cutting her off. “It matters to me. And that's why we'll succeed. We'll find the elementar and end the Wasting. And when we do we'll pledge ourselves, build a cottage, and have children together.”
She turned away from him and stared into the fire as he spoke the last words. “It sounds wonderful.”
“But...”
But I'll only truly have your love if the Wasting is ended, she wanted to say. And I don't think it will end. “You know... you know I don't think I can have children,” she said instead.
His hand touched her jaw and he gently turned her face toward his. “Only because of the Wasting. You will when it is gone.” He paused a moment. “We will do this, Hadde. We won't fail.”
***
The following day they came upon a small village sheltered in a valley. Smoke issued from the manor’s two chimneys and from holes in the peaks of half a dozen cottage roofs. Hadde’s heart pounded at the sight. Hope and fear grew in her. She had come so close to giving up.
“This is it. I told you so,” Belor said.
“You’re never wrong, are you?” Hadde replied.
“Never.”
Hadde laughed. Belor’s face glowed with joy. As they rode closer she spotted several people moving around the village, women and children amongst them. It surprised Hadde at how long it took them to notice approaching riders. She and Belor were two arrowflights away when the alarm went up.
A horn sounded and people scrambled every which way. A few ran out of the manor shouting, while others in the village fled toward its safety. Those running to the manor carried bundles of possessions in their arms. The two masses collided in confusion on the ramp leading into the structure.
Hadde waved toward them. She hoped it was a friendly gesture.
“They must think we’re raiders,” Belor said. “Or silver-eyes.” The village went silent as the last refugees crowded into the manor.
The filth amazed Hadde as they rode closer. It was far worse than the abandoned villages they had seen. Mud and refuse were everywhere. She and Belor halted their horses at the far edge of the village. A circle of cleared ground surrounded the manor. A ramp over a dry ditch led into the second story entrance. The first floor had no windows at all, while the second and third had evenly-spaced tall narrow windows. Hadde spotted movement behind some of them.
They waited for some kind of greeting, but none came. “We don’t look dangerous, do we?” Hadde asked. “Two riders and a spare horse?”
“I wouldn’t think so,” Belor said. “We’re not wearing our helms or holding weapons. Maybe they have been raided recently.” He paused a moment. “I’ll approach and tell them we’re friendly.”
Before Hadde could object, he started forward.
“Hail Salador!” he called out. “We are travelers from Landomere. We come in peace. Will you give us sanctuary for the night?”
There was no response. Hadde could still see people moving behind the narrow windows and her hand crept to her bow.
“Ur yo nibla lirds?” someone shouted from a window.
Belor turned and looked back at Hadde. She shrugged. The words had made no sense. She rode up to him.
“We’re travelers from Landomere,” Belor replied to the Saladoran.
“Speredos from firrast?”
“Spiridus,” Hadde said. “He wants to know if we’re spiridus.”
“No, not spiridus,” Belor said to the man. “Just travelers. People like you. We’re going to Sal-Oras to see the king.”
Again there was silence from the manor. A few moments later the heavy door creaked open, groaning in protest as it was pushed wide. Five men stepped from the darkness. All were dirty and disheveled, with matted hair and unkempt clothing. Two had spears and shields but wore no armor. The others carried strange bows mounted sideways on shafts. The Saladorans shuffled forward, none seeming to want to stand in front.
“Should we approach them?” Hadde asked.
“Slowly,” Belor said. But as soon as they started forward the men retreated a few paces and raised their weapons. Hadde and Belor stopped. “They’re afraid,” Belor said. “I’ll dismount and go alone.”
Hands held open before him, he led his horse toward the men on the ramp. He towered over the villagers, his red aketon adding to his stature. Hadde watched as the villagers nervously retreated.
Raising his hands, Belor spoke to the men. Hadde couldn’t keep up with what they were saying, but the Saladorans became more relaxed. A few of the men nodded in agreement to something Belor said. He led them toward Hadde.
“This is Hadde,” he said when he arrived, introducing her to the men.
The five men each spoke in turn, but Hadde couldn’t make out what they said. “The villagers have invited us to stay for the night,” Belor said. “The manor house is full, but they will give us an empty cottage at the edge of the village.”
“How do you understand them?” Hadde asked.
Belor smiled. “They’re speaking Landomeri. It’s just the way they pronounce the words that’s different. I’m getting most of it.”
Hadde noticed two of the Saladorans staring at her and talking to one another. One turned to Belor and asked, “Is he wimun?” to Belor.
“Am I a woman?” She looked from Belor, who nodded, to the man. “Of course I am!”
The men looked aghast. “Woman in urmir? With wapin?”
“Why not?” Hadde asked, glancing at her mail.
All five villagers stared openly at her. There were hurried whispers between them.
“Belor, what are they talking about?” Hadde asked.
“I don’t know. They’re talking too fast and whispering. Something about your being a woman.” He looked at one of the yeomen. “What’s wrong?”
The man half-bowed and looked embarrassed. “Nothing, Lord. Let os show you the stable.” Hadde nodded. Their accent was heavy, and the vowels were different, but she understood them.
Hadde and Belor dismounted as two of the men led them to the only other stone structure in the village. Looking over her shoulder, she saw a crowd of people at the top of the ramp.
The stench from the stable forced Hadde to step back from its entrance. It hadn’t been mucked out in ages. But it wasn't just the smell of old manure that turned her away; she smelled the rot of some dead carcass. Belor refused the use of it, sending the villagers into a hurried huddle of conversation. They showed Hadde and Belor to
a cottage, offering to let them keep their horses with them. The cottage had a decent thatched roof, but that was the only good thing that could be said for it. Old threshes covered the dirt floor.
“Should we take it?” Hadde asked.
“Better than staying out of doors.”
“Are you sure?”
Belor smiled and shrugged and they led their three horses into the cottage. Hadde cared for their mounts while Belor spoke with the men. By the time she finished, the villagers were heading back to the manor.
“Yeoman Edo told me their lord left them a year ago,” Belor said as he entered. “A short time later his wife, their squire, and their soldiers departed as well. Someone named Bailiff was left to manage things, but bandits killed him. Since that time nobody has returned.”
“Have they seen the silver-eyes?”
“No. I think they thought me crazy when I described them.”
“What a mess,” Hadde said, looking around the room.
“At least we can get out of this armor and get some rest.” As Hadde helped Belor out of his aketon she asked if the villagers could help supply them. “I don’t think so. I think they have barely enough for themselves.” He draped his hauberk over a plow handle.
“Is there another manor nearby we can go to? Some place that isn’t so disgusting. Somewhere we can purchase supplies?”
Belor shrugged as he closed the door. “I didn’t talk to them that long.” He helped Hadde from her armor, and they made their preparations for the night. It wasn’t long before Hadde had a fire going in the center of the floor. The smoke filled the peaked roof and hid the rafters from sight before exiting through a ragged hole cut in the ceiling. Hadde set a travel pot over the fire and started some split pea soup.
While the peas cooked, Hadde spread her weapons on a blanket in front of her. Everything would get a going-over with her sharpening stone. Belor followed her example. “What's a yeoman?” she asked as she went to work on the axe uncle Segreg had armed her with.
“Some sort of title, I think. Like calling you a huntress,” he replied. “In the stories, Saladorans all have ranks and titles.” He ran a sharpening stone over his sword. “A squire is a young noble who isn’t yet a knight.”