by P. G. Thomas
“What about Sister?” asked Eric.
“Which one? Lauren is trying too hard again, and I feel Sister’s presence every day, prodding me, as she wants to see Zymse dead. I’m just afraid that one day she’ll give me a command that I can’t refuse. However, I need to do something soon to make her think I’m trying.” Then Logan reached for the bottle, “So what happens next?”
Eric was staring into his glass, “Lauren keeps growing the crops, the people keep giving their thanks, and Mother wakes up. At that point, Zymse will be sorry he was ever born.”
“No, I don’t agree,” began Steve, “he’s worked too hard to get this far, too fanatical. Guys like this don’t give up, as they have bunkers built, loaded with weapons, where they can hold up to keep fighting. They’re ‘big picture’ type guys who always have plans inside of plans. You saw the coach. He’s arrogant, power hungry. My biggest fear is he has the triplets Curse Mother again. They probably feel her magic, but the localization of it has them confused. No, he’s scheming some sort of plan, they always are.”
Eric nodded, “I hadn’t thought of that, so we should warn Lauren.”
Logan poured Eric and Steve each a half glass of wine, grabbed the bottle, and headed back into the house with the remainder.
*******
Waking the next morning, Lauren felt refreshed but was alone in the bed. The smell of breakfast cooking told her the whereabouts of Ryan, but it would have to wait. First, she needed a bath but instead, settled for a shower. When she came down the stairs, her hair dripping wet, Ryan smiled, pulling out a chair beside his. After Lauren had walked over and sat down, he gently pushed her towards the table. Without a word, he poured her a cup of hot bean juice and then removed several lids, which exposed the warm meal, including a reasonable facsimile of pancakes. She leaned over, giving him a small kiss on his cheek, and then reached for the food.
Lauren was pouring syrup onto her pancakes, “I don’t think we need to spend as much time growing Mother’s gifts today. There should be so many that Zymse won’t be able to find all of them.”
“I forbid it. Today you are going to rest,” replied Ryan.
Lauren set down her fork, “You what?”
He was prepared for her reaction, “I forbid it. You’re pushing yourself too hard, and it caused you to black out yesterday. I know what happens to you if nobody steps in to check your concerns for what’s happening.”
“You can’t forbid me from doing anything!” Lauren said, pushing her plate away.
“I was thinking that instead of you sitting on that patio all day, let’s take a trip into town and see what’s happening. That way we can determine if we need to take any different actions.”
Lauren pulled her plate back, “That’s entirely different. Just don’t ever use the F-word again.”
“Like I forgive you for trying so hard?”
Lauren looked at him, knowing that he was only looking out for her. “Okay, you’re right. I was pushing it, and a day of rest wouldn’t be that bad. Just don’t get accustomed to this feeling since it’s like the fourth time I’ve used that R-word in regards to you.”
“Actually, I think that was the fifth.”
After Lauren had counted the number of times she had said Ryan was right, she smiled. “If I was to agree with you, that might make it six. Let’s call if four, and then we’ll both be happy.”
“You’re right.”
“You’re such a pushover.”
“Yes, my love.”
Lauren shook her head, finished her breakfast, and headed upstairs to change clothes. That was when she found the staff lying beside the bed with two large handprints burnt into the wood, wondering what had happened the night before. Walking out to the stable, she found the rest waiting for her inside the wagon: Ryan holding the reins, the three Ironhouse cousins in the back with Eric, Logan, and Steve. Then she placed the small, heavy staff on the floor of the front seat, stepped into the wagon, and pulled herself close to Ryan.
As they rode through the town, they saw young children running out of vacant lots with their faces covered in fresh berry juices. Mothers, their aprons filled with fresh fruit, waddled as fast as they could back to their houses, fearing the soldiers would return soon. Fathers, their hands covered in dirt, carried baskets of fresh roots down the streets, smiling like chipmunks that had just discovered a new nut tree. These were different streets from what they had seen a month ago with people begging for coins, sitting dejected on front porches with all hope banished. In every vacant lot or field, somebody was running through it looking for an undiscovered garden. Everywhere they went, they saw people crowding in dark doorways. Some trading with others while more would inquire where they found their harvest. Hands were pointing in all directions as mothers, fathers, and their excited children behind them raced in every direction, hoping not all had been gathered. Seeing Lauren smile, Ryan wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer to him, but because she had been holding the staff for so long, what he was unaware of, Lauren now heard what Mother heard, and she was stirring.
In the back of the wagon, Steve was also smiling, but something was different on the streets. Posters he had noticed on the first few days were now more abundant, seeing one every ten feet. A frequency that stated something important was happening, more than a circus coming to town. While he had seen a few close-up, the printed words were foreign to him, but if he had asked any, it would have been no surprise at the announced event: a public execution of rebels. If he had passed the information onto Lauren, the names that meant nothing to him would have caused her great distress. Among the names of the outlaws to be hung from the neck until dead, were Moonshadow, Dawnfalcon, and Icefeather. The poster may have proclaimed them outlaws, but those names had proclaimed her an Earth Daughter, and she called them Earth Guards, her protectors, and friends.
Chapter 20
The street intersected with the road that paralleled the Key River, and when Ryan pulled the reins to the right, the horses acknowledged the signal, turning to the east. As they rode along, Lauren could see where some of the shops had taken advantage of the new found harvest, displaying vegetables still covered in dirt, fruits still covered in dew. Those unable to harvest their own would be able to purchase moderately priced food. Merchants were unable to overprice what they had found, as they all had food to sell; even those that did not generally sell such items.
It was towards noon when they arrived at the center of the town, passing by a large public mall. There was a large crowd gathering that caught their attention, and for the first time, mixing together, they saw Darkpaye and Calicon citizens. A platform of significant proportions had been built at the east end, standing ten feet high, and an unusual beam eight feet above the raised platform ran the entire forty-foot length. The decorations around the plain wooden sculpture gave it an appearance that something grand was about to happen, but it was the large crowd that held the interest of Lauren and her friends. None were sure what spectacle was about to take place: some assuming an auction, a speech, or a presentation of some kind. Whatever it was, Lauren felt she wanted to see it firsthand.
The number of people that had gathered in the mall was significant, and the majority of them were finely dressed, most likely from Darkpaye. Secretly, Lauren was pleased since she realized that most of the Calicon residents were more interested in gathering food, having little interest in witnessing some pompous Darkpaye announcement. Ryan turned the wagon into a dark alley, waved his hand in front of it, picked up the golden amulets, and then the eight headed back to join the growing crowd. The number of Darkpaye guards suggested they had anticipated a much larger crowd, so the eight were able to get close enough to the front to see what was happening without being recognized as outlanders. Lauren poked Ryan in the ribs, asking him to find out what was happening, and how much longer before the show began, but before he could fulfill her request, a regally dressed man mounted the plain wooden stage.
His voice, em
braced by magic, boomed across the mall. “Fine citizens of the Bright Coast and our Calicon friends! Welcome, today we are here to celebrate Zymse Darpac, the visionary who rebuilt Calicon!” The crowd, more specifically those from Darkpaye, shouted cheers and applauded, but those from Calicon were much less enthusiastic. The speaker continued, “He saw the potential, telling his fellow Darkpaye citizens of the opportunities, and he invited them to join him here, which they did in great numbers, making these lands prosper.” Another rousing cheer from the Darkpaye group filled the air. “For years, Father Darpac has graciously bestowed his governance over the lands of Calicon. As they continued to prosper, he was plagued by outlaws that tried to undo the good he has brought to all. They were slippery bastards, killing at will, with blood lust their only reward. For years, he has sought to bring them to justice to pay for their crimes. At last, their luck has run out, and I am here now to tell all that the reign of outlaw terror ends this day. With it, since we will no longer require extensive security measures, Father Darpac has also decreed a reduction in food prices.”
The cheers from the crowds shocked Lauren, who had expected the Darkpaye reaction, but the applause from displaced Calicon residents surprised her. However, she figured that most present were unaware of the bounty of hope that others now harvested. As the speaker had been talking, he had slowly worked his way to the far right-hand side of the stage. When the crowd went quiet, he pointed to the left where guards led twelve short hooded men from a jail wagon up the stairs and across the stage. The Darkpaye soldiers escorted each prisoner placed in their charge to a designated spot, tossed a rope over the beam, and tied the other end to a ring on the stage. When the ropes stopped swinging, all could see the nooses that waited to embrace the hooded men.
Lauren, gasping in horror, had never anticipated a public execution.
Ryan pulled her head into his chest and whispered, “Should we leave?”
She pushed back her fear, hugged Ryan, “No,” and then turned back to the spectacle.
The speaker walked to the first prisoner at the far left, pulling off the hood to expose an elf. He announced his name and crimes, turned to the condemned elf, “Will you pledge your allegiance to Father Darpac and his daughters, promising to uphold his laws? If you do so, you will live.”
The voice was angry, the response simple, “Never.”
He moved down the line removing the hoods from five more elves, asking the same questions, getting the same reaction and answer.
Then the speaker moved to the sixth, started to pull off the hood, but stopped and turned to the crowd. “Every hive has a queen. Every plague has its source. For so long we had gathered information on the outlaws, looking for the head of the group so that we could remove it, bringing peace to the lands. We all thought he would be taller, stronger, and smarter. Many thought him to be a legend, to not exist at all. Others called him a specter, being able to appear and disappear at will. Their leader we hunted him with the same fever that he hunted us, but in the end, we found neither a specter nor legend. Instead, we found a simple, misguided elf.” The speaker walked back to the sixth prisoner, pulled off the hood, “May I present the leader of the outlaws, Panry Moonshadow.”
Before Lauren could react, Ryan pulled her head into his chest to smother her anguished scream.
The speaker continued. “Panry Moonshadow, the list of crimes against you is twenty years long. If I were to read them all, we would be unable to hang you for another year. You have been a thorn in the side of Father Darpac from the beginning, but he is willing to forgive you. Pledge your allegiance to him and his daughters, and you, especially, must also promise to uphold his laws. If you do, then you will live.”
Anger from wrongs that sought justice seethed in Panry’s eyes. Unlike the answers given by the previous elves, Panry remained quiet, and instead, spit into the eye of his accuser. Though lighter than anticipated, the slap to his face was expected. Amber could see the legend on the platform, his face black and blue from his refusals to answer questions.
The speaker walked to the next prisoner, pulled off the hood, and announced his name, Babartin Dawnfalcon, before repeating his questions.
He smiled, showing his missing teeth, “Never.”
The speaker nodded, moved to the next prisoner, and pulled his hood off. “Oxron Icefeather, if you spit on me, again, I will cut out your tongue!”
Hearing the name, Lauren pulled her head from Ryan’s chest, and she looked into the face of Oxron Icefeather, seeing the image and passion of Alron. Knowing that she looked upon the son of her first Earth Guard protector, she vowed that he would not swing from a rope. For so long, she had wished to hear the words of an Icefeather, and today they rang true in her ears when he spoke his answer, ‘No.’ Grasping the gnarled staff, she sent the magic forward to examine the platform, as the speaker continued down the line of prisoners. Elbowing Ryan and Logan in the ribs, Lauren looked at them both, her voice speaking with authority, and silently she whispered to them, “We’re saving them. They will not die this day!”
When they had heard the names, they knew that she would act, had to, but they were uncertain of what she would do. As Logan started rubbing both of his forearms, Ryan moved forward in the crowd. Eric, sensing something was going to happen, followed him. Amber, Gor, and Grax repositioned their axes under their cloaks, being unsure of what legend was to be born, but confident the bards would question them about the events one day, so they moved to surround the Earth Mother. Lauren sent the magic from the staff into the freshly cut wood of the platform, wood from Mother, while the Darkpaye guards placed the nooses over the twelve prisoners. As her concentration focused on the wood, sending the magic of Mother into it, making it bend to her will, she never saw the elaborate coach pull up to the far end of the stage. Steve, standing at the back, had lost sight of Eric and Ryan, and the events that were now quickly unfolding before him.
“Now, Bastard!” commanded Lauren.
Logan reached out to the metal of the Darkpaye soldiers, heating it until the black-clad guards danced across the stage, trying to pull the hot metal from their bodies, and dropping their swords. As Lauren sent concussive forces of magic into the front supports, pulling the moisture from them, the platform began to sway back and forth. They began to age, crumbling into splinters, and the platform fell forward, taking with it the soldiers and prisoners both. Now realizing their purpose, the nooses around the prisoner’s necks began to asphyxiate the elves. She sent magic to the ropes, but before it could arrive, arrows bit deep into them, and the elves slid down the broken platform, crashing to the ground into the Darkpaye soldiers.
Steve, tall enough to see over the crowd, watched as the chaos erupted around him, and he saw the bonds of the twelve cut and weapons thrust into their hands. Then a thick fog rolled in from the river, which was caused by an extreme temperature change. He felt Lauren grab him, and they began to push their way forward to the tilted platform. As they moved closer, Steve rushed forward to help Ryan and Eric, but Logan, Gor, Grax, and Amber stayed with her. Ryan, his features now rock, was without a sword, and instead, he let his rock fists vent the rage. Realizing what had happened, Panry whistled, and the rebel Earth Guards started to retreat behind Ryan. As the crowd began to disperse, black-clad guards began to mount an offense, but at the same time, rebels rushed forward throwing cloaks over the twelve. Then Panry pointed to Lauren and the few that surrounded her, and outlaws advanced on them with similar cloaks, but under one, she saw Babartin Dawnfalcon, and she accepted the strangely woven garment. Babartin, pointing to the south, told her to follow him, and she saw the rest of the rebels fleeing, which she quickly joined. She called out to Ryan, but there was so much noise, so much rage, that he never heard her words. As they chased after the rebels, each felt numerous pokes from behind, but when they looked down, they saw arrows falling around their feet, but none realized they now wore the legendary elfin cloaks of protection. Before any could ask where they were going, explosi
ons echoed throughout the mall, deafening all present. Then two wagons burst through the chaos, which they all jumped or were thrown into. As Darkpaye and Calicon residents jumped out of the way, avoiding the hooves that would trample them to death, they raced through the crowds
For twenty minutes the wagons navigated the streets of the Bright Coast, making fast turns, tossing the occupants from side to side. Lauren, Logan, Steve, Eric, and the Ironhouse cousins tried to pull the cloaks from their faces, but the others in the wagon fought their efforts until Ryan, ten feet tall and solid stone, jumped into the back. The rebels, moving to the front, drew their weapons but held their positions.
Ryan, seeing the scared looks of the rebels, scanned the rest. Watching them pull back the cloaks, he smiled seeing Lauren’s face. [Safeties holding. Analyse events.] Slowly the anger left him, stone became skin, and he went up to hug her.
Ten minutes later, the wagons pulled into a destitute building, stopping abruptly. Lauren scanned the occupants of the dimly lit area, and as she turned, looked into the eyes of Panry Moonshadow.
“Lauren, I mean, Earth Mother. What have you done?” was his angered greeting.
Expecting thanks, she failed to understand the question. “What do you mean?”
“You have spoiled all!” exclaimed Panry.
“I thought I was saving your life!”
“Not true and you have destroyed all.”
Those named rebels had surrounded the wagon, as it had more occupants than they had been expecting, and they were uncertain if they were friend of foe.
An elf approached Panry from the shadows, “Was the assassination of Zymse successful?”
“No, he still breathes. Earth Mother destroyed our plan.”
As the term Earth Mother was all but forgotten, all of the other elves and midlanders turned to face Lauren, but they were undecided of what they saw, staring at her in complete surprise.