by Melina Grace
She cried until completely spent, remaining on the grainy wooden floor until dark.
The knots in Caris’ lower back protested as she pushed herself to her feet. I can’t believe it was only this morning that I was digging rocweeds out of our field. A lump filled her throat. What she wouldn’t do now, to be able to work that field for the rest of her days, if only she could have her family restored to her.
Caris went to the food room and, pulling the cover from a bucket, splashed water on her face. It was lukewarm and did little to refresh her.
She went to her room to brush her hair and change her clothes. Though she didn’t intend for anyone to see her, the dead deserved her respect. She added the hairbrush and a cake of soap to her backpack. They were things she didn’t normally bother with when hunting, but would be needed for this trip. “Who knows what else I haven’t thought of.”
Judging that everyone else would be gathered by now, Caris lifted her chin, pulled back her shoulders, and headed out her door and toward the fire pit.
When she arrived, people were milling around unsure what to do. Most had obviously stopped at home to clean themselves up. They stood, shuffling feet and staring at the ground as if waiting for someone to give them directions. A few looked haunted; many just looked lost and confused. Some of the mothers were weeping in a way that suggested they hadn’t really stopped since the attack.
A few hadn’t cleaned up and, as Caris watched them, she realised they were acting strangely. Daneal was gibbering to no one, Belinda was staring into space and jumping and letting out small screams at intervals, while Jodha sat in the dirt stabbing the air with his knife. Caris didn’t know what she had expected but she wasn’t prepared for this. She had spent the afternoon so caught up in her own grief she hadn’t thought of how the rest of the survivors were coping.
When the sergeant arrived, with a few of his band, everyone sighed with relief. The village had had funerals before of course, but no one had the words to say in the wake of such a huge catastrophe. The sergeant walked to the front of the fire pit and began to talk of loss and grief, of loved ones and what they meant, and how they enriched their lives. He only spoke for a short while but in that time, he brought a small measure of healing to those present. Even the men cried openly as the sergeant talked.
Caris, standing at the back in the shadow of a low house, looked around the small circle of friends. Jani was there with her husband and two youngest children. Living at the northern end of the village had been their salvation. The King’s Horse had arrived in time to save them. Caris smiled, for the first time since the derk’s attack, she felt a small measure of happiness. The sergeant wrapped up his talk by speaking of how their loved ones had passed onto a better place, and though they would mourn them and often cry for missing them, they owed it to their memory to try to pick up the pieces and move forward.
Then his men came forward and Caris noticed they were carrying something. As they reached the front, they lowered about thirty firebrands to the ground. The sergeant took the lighter lamp and, lighting the brands one by one, started handing them out. As people received them, they said a quiet word of goodbye and threw them onto the huge pile of rocweeds. It caught quickly and fire leapt up, hiding the last of the victims from sight.
Caris wondered at the thoughtfulness of the soldiers to have prepared so many brands for them. It was custom for the close family of someone who died to each have a brand to throw, but no one had thought to prepare any today. Caris longed to throw a brand herself, but her humiliation held her back. As each person said their goodbye, they wandered away and back to their home. There would be no wake tonight.
When the last villager was gone and the soldiers were leaving, Caris went forward and, collecting one of the remaining brands from the ground, lit it from the lamp herself and, with a sob, threw it onto the fire. The sergeant watched her. Without acknowledging him, Caris headed back to her home.
Caris had planned to leave early the next morning, but after a sleepless night, she had finally drifted off as light began to seep in the window. She awoke mid morning to the sound of the sergeant’s voice out the front of her house.
Getting up, she pulled on her hunting pants, shirt, and soft leather boots; and went to the front of her house to see what he was doing. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she wandered groggily out to join the circle of soldiers who were receiving their orders. Apparently, a small group had already been sent to organise an escort for the villagers, back to the city or towns where some of them had relatives.
A few had opted to stay, their love of the wild land and the home of their birth, overcoming their fear of isolation. A score of survivors, however, were glad to accept the safety an escort of King’s Horse would provide. Their once beloved home had become a place of terror and grief. So few had survived, and so many loved ones had died. Their once thriving village now offered only a future of hard labour, working the land with too few hands. The broken people could not contemplate living with the constant fear and isolation their ravaged village, five days ride from their nearest neighbours, offered.
The sergeant continued giving last minute instructions on rounding up more provisions, both for the refugees and for The King’s Horse who were continuing on their journey. It appeared this band was heading out past the frontier to join The King in battle. They had been riding hard from the north, and only luck had brought them to the village at the time of the raid.
Without thinking, Caris stepped forward. “I want to join The King’s army,” she called out. The sergeant, a good-looking man with a mop of blond hair, blue eyes, and a clear complexion, stared at her intently as if trying to see into her very soul. Slowly, but with certainty, he replied,
“All who wish to join The King’s army are welcome.” Caris waited for the ‘but’. None came. She had only just realised she was accepted, was beginning to smile, when a voice she knew, off to her side, called out,
“Let me come too.” She turned to see Janen staring at the sergeant.
CHAPTER TWO
“No” the word escaped her lips. Everyone turned to look at her.
The sergeant asked her, “Have you something against this man, that he shouldn’t be allowed to accompany us?” Caris felt herself going red. What could she say? She didn’t want him to come because she wanted to escape everyone who knew how she had failed her mother, because she couldn’t stand the rebuke in their eyes, because seeing Janen every day would only remind her of her worthlessness.
The sergeant stared at her intently. She stared back, her reddened cheeks, her only reply. Turning to Janen with a small smile, the sergeant said, “You may come”.
He turned away and began dismissing people to various tasks. Caris tuned out what he was saying. She considered leaving and making her own way after all, but that idea no longer felt appealing. There was a purpose, in belonging to The King’s Army, she desired. She knew the Dark Lord was amassing his followers and The King was holding them back on the frontier.
Fighting for her King would be a good thing to devote her life to. Perhaps that was what had caused her heart to jump within her. Perhaps she would even get to see The King. She had experienced a brief moment of a new kind of emotion, before Janen had interrupted it. She hadn’t had long enough to focus on it and work out what it meant, but she knew she wasn’t willing to give it up yet. Whatever this new feeling was, though only brief, it had been stronger than her shame. Caris determined to ride with this small band and discover if there was a future for her in The King’s Army. She would avoid Janen as best she could and when they finally met up with the army, it would become easier not to see him.
Turning to the two new comers, the sergeant offered them his hand and a smile. “I’m Crispin, glad to have you along.” He paused as if waiting for something. “What are your names?” he asked.
Caris felt herself blushing again. “I’m Caris,” she stammered, while Janen quickly offered his name as well. He must think we’re idiot
s who don’t even know how to introduce ourselves. And if I can’t stop blushing I’ll die of shame. Caris checked her thoughts, she knew there were worse things to be ashamed of than looking like a blushing fool.
“Well, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other on the road. Grab your stuff and head over to the camp. You’ll find Bonny with the horses; tell her I said to give you mounts. There were a few quality horses here we’ve bought up, so if you’ve got a preference for one you know and like, just tell her so.”
“I’ve got my own mount sir,” Janen said, sounding a bit defensive. Caris looked at him quizzically. While true, his family did own a few horses, they certainly were not good quality as far as The King’s horses rated. She could not understand why he would want one of them instead of a King’s mount. She dismissed his peculiarity, figuring he must be attached to his own horse, and went back inside to grab her gear and a handful of food to break her fast with, then headed over to the soldiers camp.
Caris walked over to where the horses were picketed and introduced herself to the young woman brushing them down. Determined to put herself forward as sensible and able, from now on, she spoke clearly and to the point. “Hi I’m Caris, sergeant Crispin told me to ask for Bonny.
“Hi” Bonny replied in a friendly, almost questioning tone that brought a smile to Caris’ lips immediately. “I’m just brushing down the new mounts now, there’s some real beauties here. I can help you choose one that won’t be too spirited. Have you done much riding?”
“I’ve done enough to hold my seat on most horses” Caris replied modestly, looking around the familiar animals. With a small exclamation of pleasure, she noticed Indira. Caris weaved through the horses with care to keep in front of them. As she approached her sister’s horse, it gave a small wicker of welcome. She scratched behind Indira’s ears as her horse nuzzled into her chest.
Bonny followed her over “You know this horse? She’s quite feisty. I’d probably recommend her to someone with a strong hand.”
“This is Indira, my horse whenever I go... went... riding with my sister or my older nieces and nephews. She was a bit of a handful when I first started riding her but we’re good friends now.”
“Well, she’s yours if you think you can handle her, but we’re going to be many days on the road and you don’t want to be fighting a horse the whole way.”
“She won’t fight me” Caris replied, rubbing Indira’s nose.
“OK, well, she came with all her gear, it’s over here,” said Bonny, focusing on her task, “I’m in charge of the horses in general but it’s each individuals job to look after the daily feeding, grooming and cleaning of their own horse and tack.” She continued leading Caris over to where Indira’s saddle and bridle lay. Having finished organising, she turned to Caris with a big smile, “I’m so glad you’re joining us!” she said in her musical voice and surprised Caris by wrapping her arms around her in a big hug. Caris stiffly patted her on the back, but when Bonny released her, Caris was smiling.
It didn’t take long before the small band were ready to continue their journey. As they rode out of town, Caris’ eyes lingered on the home she would never see again. Unable to prevent them, tears silently slid down her cheeks as she remembered all the hugs from her dad, all the hours spent sewing alongside her mum and Cherri while they laughed and joked about trivial things, and all the evenings spent around meals discussing the happenings of the day. Caris rode in silence, lost in her memories, and the others in the small group of a score and two, sensing her mood, left her to herself.
The next morning, she awoke to an excited Bonny shaking her and saying, “It’s time to get up. . . Here.” She offered her a steaming cup of tea. Groggily, Caris accepted it. She looked around the small camp and realised, with relief, she wasn’t too far behind everyone else. Some sat over a hot cup, some were packing up their bedding, a couple were preparing a hot meal for everyone, and a couple were heading over to the horses.
“Thanks for waking me and for the tea.” Caris mumbled to Bonny still half-asleep.
“You’re welcome” Bonny replied with a huge smile. She patted Caris on the hand and jumped up to go see to the horses.
Over her hot morning meal, Caris took time to observe the others in the group. Bonny was beautiful with blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a ready smile. She was happy, enthusiastic and affectionate to everyone. Caris had never come across someone before who was so eager and friendly, and every time she looked Bonny’s way, she found herself smiling.
Crispin, though young, moved and talked with an air of authority that those around him seemed to take comfort in. He was friendly, relaxed, laughed at the jokes around him, and didn’t act haughty at all, but when he gave an order, people jumped to carry it out. Caris found some of the tension draining from her shoulders as she watched him and the way the group interacted. She was safe, she realised. She hadn’t realised that her fear hadn’t left with the departure of the derks.
They had not only terrorised her with death but had robbed her of all her security, her family, friends, home, and in fact, everything she knew. Though still unsure of how she would fit and what role she could take amongst these strangers, Caris could tell by the way they interacted with each other that they would somehow make a place for her.
Two others caught her attention as she ate her eggs, bacon, and mashed potato. Caris had grown up in a village where she and her aunt were the only women who didn’t have blonde hair, so she found her eyes repeatedly turning to Kalen with her long black hair, dark olive skin, and startling green eyes. Kalen was quiet and serious, and unlike Bonny who seemed to be aware of what everyone was doing at once, Kalen sat, sharpening her hunting knife, seemingly oblivious to those around her. Caris wondered whether she was sad and lonely.
The other person to pique her interest was Syngar, one of the older men in the band, Syngar looked a few years short of two-score. He had a thin face with a sharp nose and wry smile. He watched the conversation around him with quick intelligent eyes, often smiling in amusement to himself. He seldom spoke but when he did, it was to make a witty observation that had everyone either laughing or rubbing their heads trying to figure out his meaning.
They finished their food quickly. Caris wandered out of the camp and scanned the area. She spotted a squird not far away. The cactus-like plant had disinfectant qualities, and was just what she needed. She sliced the end off a branch, carefully removed the outer layer so as not to prick herself, and took the remaining handful back to use in cleaning the plates.
Within half an hour of waking and without anyone having rushed, they were preparing their horses to depart. Caris surreptitiously tried to stretch her sore muscles out while saddling Indira. Though a good horse woman, she was not used to spending an entire day in the saddle. The previous day had left her sore and she was dreading how she would feel tonight. She smiled around her however, determined not to let on she was in pain. Syngar offered her a knowing grin, which instead of causing indignation made her laugh at her own foolish pride.
The first half of the day was quite enjoyable. The weather was not too hot for a change and the company was good. They stopped for a quick bite and stretch around midday but apart from that, they kept their saddle the whole day. By midafternoon, Caris was finding the pain grating on her nerves, she clenched her teeth against a developing a headache. Bonny’s good-natured chatter started to become irritating and the sun, that had been pleasant in the morning, was now blinding.
Caris found herself praying that sunset would come soon. She wanted a reprieve from the heat, and to get off her horse, but she also wanted to be alone. Caris was used to a few hours of solitude a day and now she was finding the constant interruptions to her thoughts unbearable. She needed time to process what had happened two days ago, to think about these people she found herself with, to overcome the pain in her rear and thighs, and time to rest her mind from the thoughts and questions of others.
When they finally came to a halt
as the sun was lowering on the horizon, Caris breathed a deep sigh of relief. She sat a moment while the others dismounted, contemplating how she was going to go about getting herself to the ground. Garner, a handsome, well-built man, who couldn’t have been more than a score, appeared at her knee. With a brilliant smile and a quiet “may I?” he lifted her down from her horse.
“Uh, thanks,” Caris said, flustered.
“Not a problem,” he said with a breathtaking smile, before returning to unsaddle his horse.
Caris attended to her horse in a daze of exhaustion. When she was finished, she stood looking toward where dinner was being cooked and tried to figure out what she could do to help, but her mind wouldn’t work.
Finally, realising she had been staring without thought, she decided she wasn’t doing anyone any good and did what she most desired. Heading for a small rise twenty paces from camp, Caris sighed in relief at the thought of snatching a few minutes to herself. She topped the head high mound and sat down gingerly on the other side. Though she could still hear everything happening at camp, it was easy to ignore it and focus on the beautiful quiet that lay before her. The coolness of the evening air caressed her face, she took a deep breath and leaned back to let the space of the vast land wash over her.
Her irritability had just begun to fade when Janen came up behind her and made to join her. “Not you” she said, at the end of her rope.
Shock filled his face. He turned and left. Caris stared guiltily at the horizon. He didn’t deserve that, she knew. He hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s me that stuffed up so irrevocably. He doesn’t deserve to be punished for my failure. Part of Caris wanted to chase after him and call him back. She didn’t want to hurt him, he was such a good man and had always been a very close friend. Part of her just wanted to sit with him and draw comfort from him as they mourned together. But the very things that made her desire his company also made him the last person she wanted around to despise her. Why does he have to be here?