Servants and Followers (The Legends of Arria, Volume 2)

by Courtney Bowen

  Smidge did his duty, and it didn’t matter to him if nothing came out of it, because it was better that way for him. Smidge wasn’t even certain that Basha was the tiger of light, he just thought that it might be possible, as similar as Basha’s birth was to what he had heard of in the Tiger Prophecy. And with the way the Followers and Servants had been searching for the tiger for years now, under Doomba’s orders, it seemed as if the tiger might be coming soon, if it was not here already.

  Smidge just thought that it was best to be cautious, and allow the Servants and Followers of Doomba to search here, in case the tiger was right under his nose, and there was always the chance for a big reward if he was right. But for now, when it came to his nephews Basha and Oaka, Smidge just wanted to be known as the good uncle, who could always be trusted to give his nephews a good, fun time, quite different from their father Geda, of course, the disciplinarian. Smidge felt a little guilty at times, when he thought of how frightened Basha, and possibly Oaka, might have been, facing those dangers on their own, but at least the Old Man had protected them, in his own way.

  The Old Man could be trusted upon to be around whenever he was needed, although Smidge did not really want to let him know that. It was embarrassing to think that a Follower of Doomba like him was glad that the Old Man foiled his plans. It wasn’t right, in some ways, especially when he would be blamed for the Old Man’s interference if Doomba ever found out about his reluctance. Now that Basha and Oaka were gone, though, and not in his way anymore, so that he wouldn’t have to feel guilty about them, Smidge wanted to step out and show that he could be a true Follower of Doomba without the Old Man getting in his way. He would crush the Old Man, the next time that he faced him, and if he were so inclined, he might want to crush Geda, Habala, and Brigga as well, for ruining his life for all of these years.

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

  “Welcome to Coe Baba, how may I be of service?” Smidge asked with a small bow.

  “We are here to find out the whereabouts of a small group who escaped from Coe Aela, two boys and a girl and a falcon, with the rumor being that they are Knights of Arria.” The soldier added the last in a low tone.

  “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, if it was true, although he was also deeply disturbed. His own nephews? “Uh, I am not sure, but I do not believe that they are here, as there have been no travelers to this town recently matching that description,” Smidge said, nodding slowly, but thinking fast. “However, if you want to check,” He pointed towards the town square. “The townspeople of Coe Baba are gathered over there, for the mayoral debate is taking place right now. Everyone should be there, a couple hundred people at least, and if you want a large audience to make inquiries from, that is your best bet.”

  “Thank you.” The soldier said, frowning to himself as he glanced in the direction of the town square. “A couple hundred people?”

  “At least.” Smidge said. “It is a large, but enclosed space, with enough space for all of those people, but not much more, with buildings surrounding the town square. The only ways in and out of the town square are by this main road, the side road leading to the rich and poor neighborhoods and factories by the river, and by alleyways that lead out into the fields and then the forest.”

  “Thank you,” The soldier said, turning back to his men as he started issuing orders.

  “You are very welcome,” Smidge said, heading back into the restaurant. He had no idea about what might happen next, or at least, not very much of an idea besides the obvious. Still, he had the notion that he should avoid the town square at the moment, just in case something went wrong between the townspeople and the soldiers. Hopefully, whatever might happen next, Brigga, Geda, and Habala would all be caught up in the middle of it, which made him feel very pleased, and no one would suspect him, especially if the soldiers remained quiet, not wanting to betray their informant. He whistled as he put away the glasses, ignoring the bald spots on his head for once.

  A short distance away, as the soldiers started to split up into three groups, one heading north into the forest, one heading south to reach the side road, and the other heading west still to reach the town square, Brigga trembled in the alleyway next to the Smiling Stalllion inn. She had known that Smidge was a horrible person with the way he had treated her, and suspected him of such crimes as a Follower of Doomba, but to actually see it confirmed frightened her more than she could say. She had witnessed Smidge coming out of the restaurant and talking to the soldiers, just as she was about to step out of the alleyway and head toward the town square, late to the mayoral debate as she had to finish up a few chores. Now she didn’t know what she should do. Should she go confront Smidge, alone, for having betrayed the townspeople of Coe Baba? Or should she go warn the townspeople about the soldiers, but the soldiers were riding straight there, how could she get ahead of the soldiers in time to warn them? She was too late, too helpless, and whatever she did, there was no way that she could stop any of this from happening.

  No, wait, there was one thing. She headed off towards the Old Man’s cottage, wondering if he was there. If anyone could help her, the Old Man could, although he should have been here already, keeping an eye on Smidge and preventing the man from doing what he just did. The Old Man had to answer for his neglect.

  “This is terrible,” Talia said to her older sister Jawen, “I’m bored!”

  “Why do you say that, Talia?” Jawen asked her. “Don’t you think it’s interesting that…”

  “No, no, there is nothing interesting about this, I’m bored. Father is going to win no matter what Geda says, so why do we have to come to this stupid boring debate?” Talia asked.

  Jawen sighed. She had gotten the idea, after trying to convince Hastin to see Sisila, and then Sisila refused to see Hastin, that perhaps she should try to reconcile with her own family, just a little bit. She would try to see them more often, even though she had moved out of the house for good, just in case she might lose them completely.

  But then her father had announced that he was running for mayor, and while she thought that might be a bad idea in the sense that he could take control of everything in Coe Baba if he won, gaining new sources of profit for himself, she decided to support his bid for mayor, as a gesture of goodwill to support her family. But then Geda was running for mayor as well, and he was her fiance’s father after all. Basha would not like it if she went against his father. But then again, she really did not like Geda as much as she liked Basha, for she still thought of Geda as a lout, and technically Geda was more Oaka’s father than Basha’s father, and she definitely did not like Oaka. What was she supposed to do?

  “This is really the only chance that we will get to decide for ourselves who is going to rule us, Talia, 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.” Jawen said.

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

  The one bad thing about being reunited with her family, Jawen thought to herself, 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,” and so they had been paired up. Yay.

  “Why should we do that?” Lapo asked. “I say we are fine here just the way we are in terms of citizenship and citizenry. In fact, what we should do here is expand our factories and mills, and fall more timber further into the forest. We can become more self-sufficient and self-governing in that manner. We can extend ties to other communities, but I suggest that those ties are best mercantile in nature. We do not need any more ties than that.” He said.

  “Father does have a point,” Jawen remarked, “Although I suppos
e that just having a trade relationship with other towns is too limited.”

  “Snore.” Talia said, her head tilted to the side with her eyes closed.

  “Pay attention, Talia!” Jawen said, lightly slapping her younger sister on the arm. “I missed the militia tryouts this year, I am not missing this!” She cried.

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

  Everything happened around Jawen, or it seemed to her, and yet she was not a part of it. She had neglected to participate in the action, to witness the spectacle, and for that she was left behind, left without any knowledge of what exactly had happened, and so she was forced to scramble to understand what was really happening. She had to understand, or else she would be further left behind, and she wanted to understand because it made her feel important to have that knowledge, to feel like she was a part of everything. Jawen wanted to learn more about the world and be a part of it, even though she had restrained herself in the past and others had restrained her as well, out of fear of what might happen if she ventured too far off-course. Now that she had restrained herself too much, and others had added to her bonds, she felt restricted by her sense of self and place, and felt that it could only get worse unless she changed herself. Which was why she was here, hoping to learn and experience something different with this debate.

  The murmuring in the crowd increased as people debated whether Geda 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 quesy, when suddenly Iibala appeared next to her. “Iibala!” Sisila gasped, glancing around. “What are you doing here?” She asked.

  “You have been avoiding me, haven’t you?” Iibala asked.

  “I haven’t, not really,” Sisila said, glancing down.

  “It’s because of what I said about Basha, and how Oaka is involved in that mess, isn’t it?” Iibala asked.

  “You shouldn’t be talking about that here,” Sisila said, glancing around. “I don’t want people to hear that you suspect that…it’s not true.” She said.

  “Yes, it is true, you’re just too scared to admit it, or believe in it.” Iibala said. “Sisila, I want to prove it to you, but I haven’t got much physical, visible proof, and what I have got to show you…you wouldn’t like it. I’m not sure if you’re ready to see it.”

  “Jawen was right, I shouldn’t believe you.” Sisila said, turning away from Iibala.

  “What? Did you tell Jawen about what I said?” Iibala asked, furious. “You know that’s not safe, she could talk!”

  “I didn’t say exactly what you told me. I just mentioned your name, and Jawen immediately told me that I shouldn’t trust you. I’m half inclined to believe her.” Sisila insisted.

  “Jawen doesn’t know what she is talking about. Jawen doesn’t even know what we are dealing with here!” Iibala cried.

  Jawen thought she heard her name being called several times during her father’s speech, and turned her head around to search the crowd. “Talia, did you hear that?”

  “What? Taxation? Please, we don’t…did father say we need more or less taxation?” Talia asked, a little worried.

  “No, I thought I heard someone say…” Jawen gasped. “Iibala is talking with Sisila!” She cried, 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, Talia,” Jawen said, tugging on her younger sister’s hand to confront them.

  “I want to go home.” Talia muttered.

  “Shh,” Jawen said, as she and her sister stopped a few feet away behind Iibala and Sisila. She listened in on their conversation, wondering what they were talking about.

  “Old Man? Old Man?” Brigga called, knocking on the door of the Old Man’s hut before she pulled it open. It was too late, she feared, the soldiers were already in the town square by now, and she had to hurry. The hut was small, barely large enough for the room it contained, and she immediately spotted the Old Man lying asleep on his cot in the corner, for it seemed that she had not completely stirred him awake.

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

  The Old Man groaned as he finally woke up all the way, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up and stared at her. “What was that for?” He asked. “And where did you hear that song from?”

  “Our daughter used to sing that song sometimes, just after she came back from…” Brigga inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself down and stop herself from crying. “Never mind that!” She cried. “There are soldiers heading for the town square, if they are not there already, led by directions Smidge gave to them.”

  “Smidge?” The Old Man asked, getting out of bed and pulling on a cloak. “What sort of soldiers are they? Are they armed?”

  “I don’t know what sort of soldiers they are,” Brigga said, agitated, “They were wearing black and green uniforms. They were armed, they’re definitely armed, that’s all I can say! I am afraid of what’s going to happen.”

  “Coe Aela!” The Old Man cried. “This is deathly serious. Stand aside, Brigga, you’re on top of the trapdoor.”

  Brigga moved to the far side of the hut, as the Old Man removed a rug covering up part of the floor, and revealed a trapdoor. “Has it been more than seven minutes since you saw them?” The Old Man asked, pulling up the trapdoor, and climbing down a ladder.

  “Yes, I was in the alleyway by the inn when I saw them in front of the restaurant. It took me a few minutes to get here.” Brigga remarked, staring down into the secret basement beneath the Old Man’s hut.

  Nisa had told her amazing stories of what could be found down there, a whole building buried beneath the earth with a series of large, dark, air-tight rooms, some of them full of arcane, complex machinery. It was where the Old Man kept his ‘base of operations’, as the term went, for controlling the magical shield over Coe Baba and watching 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, even after she had learned of its existence. She was too frightened about what she might find down there, what sort of secrets even Nisa and the Old Man had kept from her for all of these years. She did not want to get trapped in the Old Man’s dungeon, sucked into his well of secrets.

  “Well, I suppose time travel is out of the question,” The Old Man muttered down below, “It has a limited range.”

  “Time travel?” Brigga asked.

  “I’ll explain later,” The Old Man said, coming up the ladder with a branch-like whip clutched in one of his hands, the willow whip as Nisa called it, and it did indeed look like the branch of such a lithe tree. “I better go and see if there is anything that can be done to stop them,” The Old Man said as he closed the trapdoor behind him, “Or capture them if it is too late.” He muttered the last to himself, covering up the trapdoor again with the rug.

  “Be careful.” Brigga insisted, staring at him.

  “I always am,” The Old Man said, leaning over to kiss her lightly on the lips. “Be careful yourself, and stay here.” He told her before he left the hut.

  Brigga stood there frozen for a moment longer, the sensation of his lips touching hers lingering for a moment longer in her mind’s eye, until it vanished completely like the wisp it was. “Malakel it.” She whispered, shaking her head. It happened too easily, and it was too hard to bear. She could not fall in love with him again.

  Meanwhile, unseen by Brigga, but perhaps not completely unnoticed by her, Kala’s ghost sat on the cot in the corner, singing, “‘It’s raining, it’s pouring, the Old Man is snoring, he went to b
ed and he bumped his head and he couldn’t get up in the morning.’ Morning. If only it were morning already…” Kala murmured to herself, staring up at the other woman. Brigga felt a soft, cold breeze blow across the room, and shivered.

  “Jawen has been by my side for years, and I have been by hers. Jawen trusts me just as much as I trust her, as we’ve earned that trust!” Sisila said. “I can’t say the same for you.”

  “That’s because I never got the chance to earn that trust. I might have been flighty with boys over the years and I might have had loose morals, but I never hurt you.” Iibala said. “I never hurt anybody that I considered to be my friend. Jawen had lost my friendship a long time ago. She had been the first one to abandon me when I started going wild. She is far too strict for my tastes,” Iibala said, turning to Sisila. “You know, I still think we could have remained friends for all these years, were it not for the simple fact that Jawen influenced you too much. That, and the simple fact that my father wasn’t exactly friends with either one of your fathers.” Iibala remarked.

  Sisila frowned. “You may be right about that, but that still does not mean that I believe that Basha is the tiger.” Sisila shook her head. “How is your father?” She asked Iibala in a low voice.

  “Doing well.” Iibala said. “Recovering. He can sit up in bed, and move about a little bit with assistance, but I don’t think he can walk on his own. Mirari said it would be awhile still before he is able to walk or run on his own. She is treating him right now at home.”