by Brandon Barr
How it began and how long it lasted was still unknown. But from the few things that had been found unburned and intact in the ruins of the past, it was clear that men were once civilized before, and not always the monsters they’d become during the Age of Madness.
As she and Justen entered the remains of their old mountain village, anger stirred inside her.
They rode the two horses slowly through the winding path that made a long circle through the derelict cottages. Most had burned to the ground but a few constructed of stone stood the test of time and flame.
Her own house lay like a black pit on the ground, a memorial of her childhood—a mixed thing of good and bad and shameful.
For four years she had been with Justen; two young teens who’d lost everything together and now shared all that they had left. She had turned eighteen at the end of winter and he’d be joining her in age by the end of spring. She still remembered that look on his face their first fall night, two fourteen-year-olds huddled together for survival after the raiders had killed everyone they knew and loved.
Justen’s family had been the pious type, his father holding prayer meetings at their house while his mother sang songs from an old book she’d found in one of the ancient rubble piles that hadn’t been completely burned to oblivion.
Payetta’s own parents were not the righteous sort, especially her father. His love of affairs and drink and beatings created a horrific home. His mouth breathed out a litany of constant threats and colorful words. But he never turned his bitterness against Payetta. It was only her mother that received his ugly words and, occasionally, his powerful fists. He told Payetta often that she was the only reason they remained a family and that she was five times the woman that her mother was.
Payetta didn’t understand how he could say this, for the only reason he hated mother was because she was deaf, and therefore, when she tried to speak the words didn’t come out neatly. He hated this with a fury, so most of the time her mother shut her mouth. And since she was deaf, she couldn’t attend to his desires when he voiced them. Many things had to be acted out with hand motions. He hated this too.
One thing Payetta resolved to do was never shut her mouth when words needed to come out. She would speak.
She wished she would have spoken up for her mother, but she had succumbed to an underlying fear of her father mixed with a desire for his praises. Her silence in her mother’s defense was a regret she would take to her grave, thanks to Titannus and his brutal attack.
It was a moonless night that she’d never forget. Her small mountain community had been caught off guard by the mage and his men. The raiders came late past the midnight hour and murdered most of the families in their beds. Payetta had no doubt she too would have been a victim if she hadn’t already discovered her magical gift as a little girl.
The little mouse that lived in her bedroom wall had warned her just in time for her to slip out her window. She’d run as fast as her feet could carry her to the nearest house to call for help, but when she arrived, she spied more men in the moonlight entering her neighbor’s little log home. For some reason, it was at that moment when it hit her that her own parents were dead and that she was alone. She only hesitated a moment, then rushed to the back of her neighbor’s home and found the window ajar.
It was Justen’s bedroom window, the handsome boy all the other girls in her community chattered about.
She never forgave herself for having left her mother, but she found solace in the fact that she’d saved one person that night. Justen had awoken to her frantic whispers, and just as the raiders entered his room, he sprang out the open window and together they ran into the forest.
She was a different girl ever after. Hardened. Bitter. Only Justen knew the pain buried deep inside her. She saw it often, the concern in his eyes that he held for her.
“Are you all right, Payetta?” called Justen’s soothing voice from his seat upon the horse.
She dismounted, as did Justen. Together they stood at the edge of her burned down house, the grave site of her parents and a past that grew more distant with each passing year.
Payetta unclenched her jaw. “We’re not going to leave the Meadowlands, not unless the farmers want us to. Mayor Brundig and Percy can go jump off the bell tower.” She sighed and leaned her head on Justen’s shoulder. “Of course we want revenge on Titannus, but that doesn’t mean we want it at anyone’s expense. It’s in their best interest.”
“I think so,” replied Justen calmly. “But when you have a sense of safety and comfort, it’s hard to understand people like us. We frighten them. We’ve had everything most people treasure taken away, and now we’re calling them to act as if they might lose everything they have too. It’s hard not to cling to that security found in the peace of the present.”
Payetta, bent down and took a handful of blackened dirt and threw it out into the grass.
“I get it,” said Payetta. “It’s infuriating but I get it.”
“Want to go back now?”
“We just got here. Let’s go and see your house.”
Justen sighed. “All right. Just a quick moment.”
After tying the horses to a tree, she followed him to his house across a wooded strip of aspens. The stone walls he’d lived in stood as strong as the day he’d left the home behind. The roof was burned and gone, as were the contents, but from the moonlit outside, the walls were a stark memory of life before her husband.
The tears that slid down Justen’s face came quietly. Payetta leaned into his strong arms for a long time.
Finally, he squeezed her hand. “Let’s go. Judging by the moon, it’s close to midnight.”
“But we’re here,” said Payetta. “Let’s stay a while longer. I want to see if the mountain cat is in its den. A little magic practice would be a perfect nightcap. You can practice too.”
“We’re already out too late. Cluckruck and She Grunts are probably worried sick.”
Was he really pulling the animals into this? Payetta folded her arms and cocked her head to the side, stating her opinion by her stance.
“Besides,” he went on, “I’m terrible at magic.”
She tugged on his arm and pulled him in the direction of the boulder piles a little deeper in the forest.
“But you can kind of do magic,” encouraged Payetta. “And you’re getting better. You healed my forehead yesterday, remember?”
“I think anyone can kind of do it if they’re taught. I just don’t understand how you learned it so well on your own. I mean, I know what you’ve told me.”
“I felt powerless…and desperate. I needed something I could control outside my screwed-up home. To grow in magic, you have to put your emotions into it. When I was a child, I needed someone to listen to me. Mother was deaf and Father was the last person I’d ever talk to. Inside I was seething with anger, but I was too scared to act on it. I needed a world that I could feel safe in and have power over. Animals became my friends and subjects. The woods became my kingdom.”
She sighed. “I don’t know what I would have become if I didn’t have you.”
Justen let her words linger in the air, then she saw a smile spread across his lips. “You’d be running around the woods, crazy as a hoot owl.”
Payetta smirked. “I’m sure glad I dragged you by your hair from your house and brought you back to my lair.”
Justen laughed. “Someone knew that you needed me. To keep you grounded.”
“Yeah,” said Payetta with a shrug. “I guess we were destined for this.”
Gleaming in the moonlight ahead were the first rocks that marked the boundary of the boulder piles. Payetta felt a wave of excitement as she anticipated a possible fight with a mountain cat. She’d done it only once before, and it had mentally kicked and clawed the shit out of her.
She was rested though, and hadn’t used a smidge of magic all day. Perhaps tonight would be her night.
But first. Justen.
“Take off your pants.
”
“What?” Justen’s eyes flashed at her. “Here?” A half-grin clashed with his creased brow. “I swear you’re half rabbit.”
“So what if I am?”
“You haven’t even checked to see if the cat’s here?”
A voracious smile formed on Payetta’s lips. “That’s half the fun.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
A scratching noise near the hidden entrance stirred Payetta’s eyes open just a crack. It was light out, and sunbeams were angling down through holes in the makeshift roof.
Payetta closed her eyes and sighed, then rolled over onto the dark bear furs, shoving the thin blanket off her body. Instead of a cool rush of air over her bare skin, she felt an unpleasant warmth that marked the morning was nearly gone.
Badger balls, she thought, it’s late! What time is it?
She forced her eyes open and heard the scratch come again. Slowly, she sat up and rubbed her eyes, then remembered her late night with Justen and the search for the mountain cat they never did find. Out hunting, she’d guessed.
Justen lay face down beside her, arms wrapped around a pillow. On his back lay She Grunts sleeping, while Cluckruck cocked an eye at Payetta from her perch on Justen’s head. Payetta’s smile was a slightly jealous one. She shook her head. They were such daddy’s girls.
The third time the scratch sounded at the entrance, it was accompanied by a growl. Payetta scrambled over to the door, ducking her head to avoid catching her hair in the twigs that had dried in the hard mud roof. Through the cracks in the door, she spotted one of the wild dogs. Which pack it was from she couldn’t tell, but a dog at her door almost always was a bad omen.
Payetta glanced back over her shoulder. “Justen, wake up!”
She pushed open the door and the dog immediately began yipping and barking like the world was going to end. Payetta reached out and stroked her hand through the short hair on the side of its face. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the animal.
Dogs were the only animals that communicated with her in any real sense, and were able to relay messages and memories. An image surfaced in her mind, and she saw what the dog had been upset by.
A long line of armed men were stalking through the woods following a dried riverbed that ran down a wide canyon. She recognized the location as she counted the number of men. It was a staggering number. Around two-hundred, she estimated, all clothed in leathers with metal plates strapped to their vital points—all except for one man with long white hair. She knew immediately the truth of the situation.
“What kind of trouble?” asked Justen calmly. She could hear him clothing himself quickly for a fight.
“We’re under attack,” she replied, looking at him over her shoulder. “Two-hundred strong, I’d guess.”
Justen stopped and gave her an are-you-serious look. But he quickly saw there was no humor on her face.
“Is Titannus with them?” questioned Justen.
“Yes. He’s finally come out of his fort again.”
Justen’s only response was the quickened zzzzip of leather straps tightening and the dull clanking of Justen’s massive sword sliding into the sheath on his back.
This was the raid she and Justen had been warning the Meadowlands about ever since they arrived, but even she was shocked by the number of men she’d glimpsed. Judging by the route of the army marching toward South Meadow, Hargstead would be their target.
“Maybe they’ll listen to us now,” quipped Payetta sarcastically.
“Even we didn’t expect this,” replied Justen. “One thing is certain—everything’s going to change after today.”
Payetta breathed in Justen’s words. Whether five men or five hundred, this was the moment they had been preparing for. And for her, Titannus was the prize. She longed for payback. Today could be her day of vengeance.
Payetta reached beside the door and took two painted sticks from the wall. One black slashed with three yellow stripes to give the rally point location, and one red, to inform of the severity of the situation. Old Ferren would know what to do once the dog brought him the sticks.
She placed the sticks in the dog’s mouth, then slid both hands under its ears. As she scratched his fur, she gave the animal its mission.
Bring Old Ferren the sticks.
Rally the Heroes Brigade.
***
Two hundred men…and Titannus
Justen watched the trees ahead as he led Payetta down the dog trails, a deep unease moving like a shadow over his heart. What did Titannus plan to do with so many men?
Plunder the farms for food and supplies? Seize the farmers’ outer perimeter? Or simply kill and bring to ruin as much life and property as he and his men could manage.
Just like what he’d done to the mountain communities.
His thoughts turned to his wife. Though she was more than capable of defending herself, her powerful magic—if discovered—would make her a target. If she was a vessel of God’s judgment and wrath, it was his duty to keep her safe, for there was no promise that she would be divinely protected. Justen had become aware of this fact as he reflected on his father’s scripture readings where warriors, prophets, and kings had died at the hands of evil men despite their character or faithfulness.
Justen found it a rather confusing picture, that good humans were left to fight for themselves, but that was the reality that had been born out upon his own family, when his mother and father were murdered. Stolen from this life before their time.
Because of this reality, he found himself funneling all his energy into keeping Payetta close and protecting the woman he loved. Not only did he deeply cherish her, he felt called to watch over and guide her. It was a mission that could cost him his life, and he dare not fail. Too much was at stake. Her potential to shape the world around her was staggering.
“Careful using your magic,” cautioned Justen. “We can’t allow any reports to come to Titannus. Just the animals. Nothing obvious. And hide your eyes.”
“Do you have to tell me every single time?” replied Payetta with sass.
“Yes,” he called, “I do.”
The fact that her eyes glowed blue whenever she summoned her magic made it extremely difficult to hide her ability.
Through the tree branches, Justen could just make out the green fields of South Meadow. He slowed his pace, then suddenly came to a stop.
Two men stood beneath the shadows of a bent old pine at the meadow’s edge. Justen barely had time to register they were there before a twang sounded. He twisted, flinching as he braced for impact but heard a crack and felt only a spatter of wood debris hit his face and arms.
“What did I just say about using your magic!”
He could hardly believe she had shattered an arrow out of the air! Her ability to manipulate dead wood was apparently no longer confined to her sword.
He turned to grab Payetta’s hand with the intention of pulling her towards a thicket of trees, but she sprang away from him.
“Get your damn bow out,” she shouted.
If there was ever a time he wanted to curse, it was now! He reached over his shoulder and retrieved his arrow and bow in one motion.
A second twang sounded from the shadows of the pine. Justen tried to pivot in front of Payetta to block her, uncertain who they had shot at or if Payetta’s magic would protect them a second time.
The impact of the arrow spun Justen full around and sent him crashing to the ground. He grimaced, his head dizzy with pain.
“Run!” he shouted, clutching the shaft buried an inch north of his heart. “Go get the others!”
A shadow leapt over him and he saw Payetta land between him and their attackers.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Payetta gripped her hardwood sword in two hands and crouched like a cougar before her wounded mate.
Damn brave Justen had disrupted her focus jumping in front of her. Half of her was mad at him for getting himself shot through the shoulder, the other half wanted to tongue kiss him
hard for a long, long time.
The two men stepped out of the shadows, arrows drawn, and maneuvered toward her through the woods.
She heard Justen struggling to his feet. She didn’t bother telling his stubborn ass to stay down.
“Stay behind me,” she whispered under her breath. “Don’t give them two targets.”
Her eyes darted off the approaching men for just a moment, and she dared to release her focus on their arrows to feel the earth beneath her feet. Above, in the trees, she spotted a raven. Quickly she reached out to the bird with her mind, beckoning it. The raven lifted its wings and cawed.
“Don’t move,” called the taller of the two men, “or you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.”
“And drop your sword,” chuckled the second man nervously. “A wood stick isn’t going to do you any good.”
Payetta decided to comply, not wanting to draw their fire. She’d been practicing for years on her ability to concentrate on more than a single object. Two arrows, whether they were fired or not, would stretch her to the brink of what she could handle. She hooked her sword in its straps then raised her hands to her head.
“You stopped my arrow,” said the tall man. “How?”
Payetta frowned, “Beg your pardon, you just shot my friend here.”
“The first bloody arrow,” snapped the man. “It burst into pieces like a dirt clod before it hit your friend’s chest.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied flatly, her eyes drifting to a sizeable branch just above the two men.
“Don’t lie, little girl,” mocked the shorter man. “I saw the glow in your eyes, just like the mages, except….” He raised an eyebrow. “Never seen that color before. Sky blue, like turquoise.”