by JL Rowan
All the cottages in the world were meaningless now that Janna was gone.
* * * *
It took eight trips to bring all of the supplies they had gathered to the new camp. Arnon estimated that there was enough food to last for at least a week, more if they rationed it out in proportion to whatever game and other fresh food they found.
The hunting parties returned with fresh game as Arnon and his fellow villagers arrived in camp with the last load of supplies. While the deer and hare roasted, the women ransacked the supplies for flour to make bread, and dried legumes to make stew.
During the communal evenmeal, Arnon signaled for silence. "Tomorrow, we will go to Erendel and gather more supplies. We have a long journey ahead of us and must prepare as best we can. I will take only the most cautious of men. I will not risk any lives by foolish behavior." He gazed upon the people, the various campfires casting all manner of fantastic shadows across their faces. "Are there any volunteers?"
He gaped when he saw how many rose. At this rate it should not take them long to gather enough supplies to keep the camp going for the next month. He hoped the Lady was favoring the Guardians and priests with as much grace as She had them.
* * * *
Arnon could feel the heat of the flames from the edge of the forest, even in the cool of the morning. He stared unbelieving at the conflagration that consumed the entire village of Erendel. The odor of burning wood overwhelmed the crisp scent of the crushed evergreen boughs beneath their feet. He turned his head slowly, looking in the direction of Erendon, and then toward Erengor. Above each rose pillars of black, roiling smoke. Far off, another column of smoke rose from what must be Talithia's most distant village, Erenleigh. His heart seemed to labor in his breast as he read the truth in those ominous gray clouds.
"Dear Lady."
He knew the others had seen the pillars of smoke that rose above the trees.
"They're burning all of them," one said in a tone as flat and dead as their villages.
He fell to his knees as the crumpled buildings of Erendel were reduced to ashes. Behind him, he heard a quiet sob. Most of the men in his party had loved ones they wanted to bury. Arnon remembered how important it had been to lay his wife and children to rest. There was precious little closure to be found in the flames.
Was he in some way responsible for the destruction? If he had believed his dead were out to consume him, he wouldn't have risked his life pillaging an enemy village. He'd destroy it as quickly as possible.
Had he made the right decision to return to his village yesterday?
One by one, the men set forth towards camp. With a final glance at the flames, he followed. Watching the village burn would not change anything, and they had much work to do yet.
Back in the new camp, Arnon immediately directed everyone to the other side of the stream, a task which took several hours, and which elicited no few grumbles from the people. It was a wide stream, ice-cold and waist-deep in several areas, and for some who were injured, it was nearly impossible to cross.
It was precisely for those reasons that he had decided to move everyone. Had they remained where they were, the stream would have formed the northern edge of the camp, effectively cutting off--or at least seriously hindering--their only path of escape. The queen's realm encompassed all but the northern border of the forest leaving the people only that one direction in which to migrate. They would have had to cross the stream sooner or later. Better to have the inconvenience over and done with.
Once on the other side, he reorganized the camp. First they set up the largest tent they'd retrieved from Erenwest in the center of the camp and moved all the sick and injured into it. Talithia had once boasted five Healers--people with the special ability to cure sickness and injury without the aid of herbs. Now, only Sarabah remained. He knew she'd been pressed to her limits trying to stabilize the worst of her patients, who had been spread from one end of camp to the other.
Around the large tent, they set up the rest of the salvaged tents to house the elderly and small children. He had the remaining families make their own space in another ring. Finally, he placed the most able-bodied fighters around the perimeter of the camp. They would keep watch in the lookouts, and would be the first to inform the others of any encroachment upon the camp.
When the basic structure of the camp was set up, his helpers organized rotating hunting and foraging parties, and established various bathing and privy sites throughout the camp.
Sunfall was near when he called a halt to the day's activities. The hunting and foraging parties were returning and the camp's focus would have to shift to food preparation. Observing the chaos that surrounded the preparations for evenmeal, Arnon realized that they needed to group their supplies and set up rotating shifts for food preparation if they were to establish rations. His eyes fell on Vita, one of the few women from his village whose husband and children had survived the attack. He had always known her to be competent and organized. He made a mental note to speak to her later about taking charge of the food distribution.
Looking down at the notes he'd taken throughout the day, he noticed that what with hunting, foraging, food preparation, and other small tasks such as cleanup or assisting Sarabah, nearly everyone in the camp would have some chore to do every day. The only ones exempt were the sick, injured, and those few who were too old or young to help. He hoped the work would help keep the people from dwelling overmuch on their current situation, between the horror of what was and the hope of what might be. He wished the Guardians and priests would return. Even as busy as he'd been, he still had time to hear voiced the growing fears of what would become of them.
It's the not knowing that's killing us, he thought later that night as he trimmed the ends of arrowwood saplings into points, testing their sharpness with his thumb. They were a people without a home. They couldn't go back, nor could they stay in the forest forever.
Their future seemed as bleak as the past few days had been.
* * * *
"Well done," Arnon said to Vita, after consulting her schedule for food preparation. She was exceptionally organized.
Not receiving a reply, he realized that Vita was paying him no attention whatsoever. He followed her gaze over his shoulder. The Guardians had returned. He stood silent as the great cats made their way through the camp.
Please let them have a plan, he prayed.
Gaenbur broke off from the group and approached him. You're looking well, Arnon.
"So are you. Vita, we'll talk later."
He fell into step as Gaenbur walked through the camp.
The camp is wisely set up. We did well to choose you, did we not?
Arnon merely inclined his head.
I would be interested to learn where the added supplies came from, but I suspect I already know.
He had never doubted his friend's intelligence, and he wasn't about to insult it now by trying to hide what he'd done. "My village, of course."
Of course. Gaenbur's tone was carefully neutral. The Council will be interested to hear the story. We will meet you on the north side of camp in half an hour. He walked back the way they'd come.
Arnon let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Even after all their years of friendship, he still couldn't read Gaenbur's moods at times like this. Be the Council's response ill or well, he knew he would never be sorry for what he'd done. He'd buried Janna and the children. No punishment could ever make him regret that.
His stomach twisted as he approached the Council. In spite of what Gaenbur had said the last time he'd been there, he executed a respectful bow. Straightening, he dutifully waited for the Council to address him.
You've done well with the camp, Arnon, Gaenbur said formally. We are pleased with your work.
"Thank you."
We understand that you led a party to Erenwest, Saran said.
"Yes." He told the Council all that had occurred, including the fires. "We needed supplies. I made sure only to take t
he most trustworthy of men, and no one was in danger."
You might have gone at night when no soldiers were there, Dara suggested. Better still, you might have waited until we returned and discussed it with us first. It seems that your and Sklar's deception led the soldiers to burn the other villages.
"They had already pillaged much of the village by the time we arrived." Arnon fought to keep the defensiveness he felt from creeping into his voice. It was work, trying to provide for nine hundred mouths.
They'd fled with barely more than the tunics on their backs. They didn't have the luxury of ignoring resources.
"Had we waited, there would have been no supplies. We can't know for certain that we are to blame for the fires." Even as he spoke the words, he had to fight a surge of guilt. He pressed on, ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach. "And how do we know that they hadn't already pillaged the rest of the villages and planned to burn them anyway?"
Gaenbur's whiskers twitched. A point. Corrin has enough men by far to have pillaged all the villages simultaneously. Such a move would only make sense.
Feeling slightly mollified by Gaenbur's defense, Arnon took a deep breath to calm his edgy nerves.
Furthermore, given her hatred of us, it would also make sense that she would burn the villages once they were empty. Still, you took a serious risk, Arnon, but overall, we are pleased with your care of the people.
Arnon bowed courteously. "May I ask the results of your time away? Have you received an answer from the Lady?"
We will make the general announcement to the camp during evenmeal, but it is hardly something that needs be concealed.
"Oh?" Arnon asked, trying to keep the curiosity in his voice from overwhelming that one, little word.
Yes, Gaenbur said. All we know is that She will lead us to a new land that will be ours, one that will not be taken away from us again.
Arnon swallowed back a sigh, and kept his voice neutral. "That is good to know." He would have preferred something more specific, but good news, however vague, was better than the alternative.
It is. Gaenbur shifted his position slightly. We thank you for coming, Arnon. We'd like you to continue to oversee the daily tasks of the camp as you have established them. Sidra will assist you and help integrate the Guardians in the duties. I know he is waiting to speak with you, so you may leave.
Arnon bowed.
May your way be clear, the Council members said in unison.
"And yours." He made his way through the camp to find Sidra. The Guardians could do nothing in way of food preparation and cleanup duties, but they would be most useful in hunting and lookout parties. The camp hadn't felt complete when they were gone, and he, for one, was heartily glad they had returned.
Gaenbur came to visit him as he fashioned arrows that night.
He settled down next to Arnon's campfire. You look better than when I left.
With those words Arnon knew that he had come as a friend rather than Prime Guardian of the Council. "I buried Janna and the children." He searched Gaenbur's eyes, but could read no reaction in them.
I thought as much when you said you had returned to the village.
"I couldn't leave them like that. None of us could."
I know.
Eager to change the subject, Arnon pretended to be engrossed in sharpening a length of arrowwood. "So how did the kittens like their journey?"
Very well, Gaenbur said with a chuckle, though they're still too young to understand it all.
Before Arnon could answer, Dara's cry invaded his mind. To arms! To arms! The queen's soldiers are coming!
Arnon scrambled for his sword.
Gaenbur was already on his feet and bounding away. Stay with the people, Arnon! You and the rest of the fighters lead them to safety. Head north to Anshaar! We'll deal with the soldiers!
He quickly organized the fighters on the southern perimeter of the camp into a defensive force. Through the chaos of running bodies and screaming children, he spotted Sarabah helping an elderly woman mount a donkey. She would never be able to handle all the sick and elderly members of the camp on her own.
Whirling about, he scanned the fighters for Faris, and motioned for him. "Sarabah needs help. Get some of the others to assist her, and then take an armed detachment and head north with them. Don't wait for the rest of us."
Faris strode off.
Arnon spied a Guardian kitten trembling beneath a bush, her eyes wide and her fur standing on end. He scooped her up. "Faris!" He jogged to catch up with his friend and thrust the little one toward him. "Take the kittens as well."
"I will." Sheltering the kitten in his arms, he marched forward, shouting commands.
He breathed a sigh of relief. The most vulnerable members of Talithia would soon be on their way. He turned his attention to the remaining members, and called Sklar to his side.
"We must ensure no children are left behind." He gestured towards a woman who was busy packing. "Tell her she needs to focus on her children, not her clothing."
"Are we leaving the supplies behind?"
"We'll worry about supplies after we account for all the children." A youngling Guardian, too large to travel with the carts that took away the sick, but too small to fight with the adults in battle, paced beneath a nearby tree as if uncertain what to do. Arnon strode to him. "Gather the other younglings and look for any children who may have run off. Be quick about it."
The panic in the youngling Guardian's eyes turned to confidence. If any are out there, we will find them. With a lash of his long tail, he bounded off.
They soon accounted for all the children, and Arnon sent them onward with their families and the youngling Guardians. Only the fighters and those who had no families remained. All weapons had been claimed by the fighters, so he directed the rest to the supplies.
"What about the tents?" one said.
"We haven't time to decamp. Take only what you can carry. Food is our first priority. Grab something and head out." He told the fighters, "If you can, take supplies as well."
Arnon carried a sword, rather than a bow and quiver of arrows, leaving his other hand free. With it, he hoisted a small barrel of dried fruit onto his shoulder.
Silently he thanked the Lady that the children had gone ahead. Should the queen's soldiers break through the Guardians' defenses, the fighters could afford to abandon any supplies they carried in order to fight. Were they to be forced to engage the soldiers while carrying children...
He shuddered at the thought.
They pressed onward into the night, moving steadily north, checking their position against the stars whenever an expanse in the canopy above permitted. For the life of him, Arnon could not explain the queen's actions in sending her men into the forest. Why now, after all this time? Numerous reasons ran through his mind, but only one stayed with him: he was to blame. Their retrieval of the supplies had somehow alerted the queen's men to their presence.
All along the route of their flight, he found himself looking over his shoulder, expecting at any moment to find the queen's men at their heels. He broke into a cold sweat at the thought that his promised reunion with Janna and the children might come sooner than he had expected.
But there was nothing behind except shadows and the occasional screech of an owl.
Thank the Lady we moved camp when we did. He didn't even want to think about the nightmare they would have had, had they still been on the south side of the stream.
They crossed the tree line around dawn, and found themselves in a grassland of rolling hills. He led the refugees into the shelter of a hill a few arrow-shots from the edge of the forest, where they would be out of sight of their pursuers. It was scant protection, to be sure, but it was better than their remaining in the open air. The people needed rest and food; they simply could not continue onward, even if the whole of the queen's army pursued them.
That was what disturbed him, he decided as they set up an improvised camp. He hadn't seen a trace of the soldiers. Even mo
re disturbing was that neither had he seen any sign of the Guardians. A sick taste rose in the back of his throat at the thought that they might all be dead, but he refused to consider the notion. There was simply too much to do to waste time entertaining unfounded fancies.
Once everyone was settled, Arnon called on Faris and Sklar to establish lookouts and send out hunting parties. He'd seen deer grazing on the sweet, dewy grasses. They would be wise to take advantage of the opportunity to hunt before the heat of the midday sun drove game back into the forest. Vita gathered the supplies they had and reported they had enough food to last them for the rest of that day, and perhaps through noonmeal of the following day.
Two hours later, with little more to do but take his turn keeping watch on the forest, Arnon silently cursed the queen as he lay among the grasses at the top of the hill. He eyed the forest, scanning its boundary for any hint of movement, praying that the Guardians had survived and would soon emerge.
Please don't let them be dead. What would he do without the Guardians? Where would the Talithians go? Not only would they be without a home, they'd be without their leaders. He felt the weight of responsibility nearly crush him, for he would be the one to whom everyone would turn to get them home--wherever that might be--for the kittens and younglings did not yet have the ability to lead.
A flash of black near the edge of the forest caught his attention, diverting his reflections and setting every nerve on edge with anticipation.
"Is it friend or foe?" Sklar said in a low voice.
"We'll find out soon enough," Faris answered.
Arnon gripped his sword until his knuckles turned white. He narrowed his eyes, shading them from the sun. A low, dark figure emerged from shadow and came towards their position.
"It's a Guardian!" cried Sklar.
"Stay down!" Arnon commanded in a harsh whisper. "We don't know if it's safe, yet."
"But look, Arnon, there's more of them."
Arnon saw that several Guardians had emerged from the trees. They didn't seem to be fleeing, nor did they seem to be in danger. Cautiously, he signaled for the others to rise.