by Ijaz, Usman
“You should go back the way you’ve come,” Rebecca told him in a grave voice. “You cannot go on the way you are.”
“Why not?” Alexis asked. He poked at the flames with a small stick.
“That sound you hear is the Rye River” Rebecca explained. “It flows from the north and winds west. To continue as you are you would need to cross it. To travel north along it will bring you only a little farther from this forest, and to travel south-west along will lead you back the way you’ve come, I’m assuming.”
Alexis nodded. “And what if we cross the river, where will that take us?”
“I don’t know,” Rebecca said. “But I would advise against crossing it.”
“Why?”
Rebecca stared long into the fire. At last she looked up and met Alexis’s gaze with a solemn face. “Would you guess that these woods have been here since the early colonies from Naban? They have shrunk through the centuries, true, but they are still a remnant of the great forests that our forefathers cut down. When I was little, my father used to scare me with stories about these woods, to keep me from wandering into them. Mind you, we didn’t live near here, but this forest covers much ground. That is why I brought Milen here, because I knew no one dares to stray too far into Bramble Woods. And for good reason.”
“And what reason would that be?”
Rebecca studied the flames long, and when she spoke she looked past his shoulder and into the darkness of the woods. “Sometimes Milen and I hear ... strange sounds from across the river. It sounds like feral dogs snapping at one another ... and howling, especially if the moon is up. I don’t know what lives beyond the river, but I pray it stays there and leaves us be.”
Alexis thought it over for a long time, shadows flickering across his face, brown eyes staring intently into the fire. To travel north along the river would bring them only a little further from Haven ... and he had no idea what would be waiting for them there. God knew, if he was their pursuer and had a map it would be easy to estimate where they would exit the woods. To travel south along the bend would bring them behind Haven ... and then we would have to constantly worry if we were not walking right into our attackers’ hands. The worst of it was that he knew there could be enough in the party after them to cover a great distance and spot them. Obviously there had been many involved in the ambush in Haven.
A small voice in his head whispered that he was afraid of conflict, afraid of failing and dying. I will not take an unnecessary risk, he told that voice, wanting to be rid of it. It receded, taunting him all the while.
“I think we will take our chances across the river,” he said to Rebecca. Wild dogs would likely avoid strangers, and he had his guns with him as well.
Rebecca looked on the verge of protest, but then subsided once she saw his face. “You are sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then I hope you and your companions find your way out together.”
Chapter 12
Crossing the River
1
“I’m Connor! That’s Alexis! Do you understand now?”
“Yes, Alexi,” Milen replied, grinning.
Connor threw his hands up and turned away. He wondered suddenly if Milen was doing it on purpose. Not likely, he thought. He crossed his arms over his chest and hugged himself tighter as the bitter wind rolling off the river buffeted him.
Alexis laughed. “I thought you would be at it all day.”
“It’s not that hard to grasp,” Connor explained. “With time he might get it.”
“If you say so,” replied the Legionnaire.
Connor stepped closer to the embankment and watched the river flow by below. In the early morning the water appeared dull ... and deep. The river was wider than he had expected. It ran before them in a straight band, never narrowing at any certain point but only growing wider farther down. The water rushed by at a steady pace; Connor supposed there must be rapids a little further down. On the other side, the trees stood much as they did on their side; large and tall, blocking out much of the sunlight. He looked at the Legionnaire. “We’re going to try crossing this?”
“Yes.”
He was about to ask how when Adrian beat him to it. Connor gave him a withering glance before returning his gaze to the river.
“We’ll have to construct a raft,” Alexis answered, studying the river. He seemed heedless of the wind that whipped his coat and hair around him.
“How long will that take?” Connor asked.
Alexis smiled. “Sooner started, sooner done.”
They headed back through the woods, walking in single file on the small path. Connor watched Adrian trying to explain to Milen their names. He seemed to be having some luck. Connor turned his head away, scowling. If someone had put him to the question and asked what he held against Adrian, he wasn’t sure he could come up with a reasonable answer. All he knew was that a part of him held Adrian accountable for what had happened to his mother. Another part of his mind whispered that it made no sense to blame his cousin, and that it was wrong, but Connor shut that part off in anger. Who else can I blame? he demanded of that voice. Adrian glanced back at him once; Connor gave him a baleful stare before turning his head aside.
2
Breakfast was a quiet affair for the most part. Rebecca had readied hard slabs of bread covered with preserves and warm tea. A simple meal in all, but Connor thought it tasted as wonderful as anything he had eaten. The Legionnaire sat scratching patterns into the ground, trying to design the raft they had to build. Milen sat with a loopy grin and a distant look on his face. Probably listening to the birds, Connor thought. Connor glanced towards Adrian and saw him sitting with a sad face, worry clear in his odd, gray eyes.
An odd mix of emotions warred within him as he watched his cousin. What does he have to be so depressed about? The next instant he felt shameful and regretted the thought. His own indecisions tore him apart. He couldn’t decide whether to blame Adrian for everything or to suddenly forgive him. He wasn’t sure how to think of his cousin anymore, certainly not as the boy he had grown up with. It was too hard to imagine that. But why did he feel such a strong need to blame him for his mother’s death? The lack of answers plunged him deeper into an uncertain melancholy.
When he thought of all the years that he had spent without ever knowing his mother, he wanted to place the blame on someone. To say, ‘There, it’s your fault!’ But then why did that small voice in his head keep nagging at him, telling him he was wrong to do so ... and more, why did he feel an urge to agree with that voice? Perhaps because you truly don’t believe it’s Adrian’s-- Connor stomped on the thought immediately. The anger he held towards his cousin steadied him, allowed him to feel as though he could lean upon something for balance amidst a storm. Without that anger, without that crutch, he knew he would be blown away by the emotions within him. By blaming Adrian he was able to keep at bay all the other feelings that boiled beneath his surface. Within him was a dam of emotions with cracks running everywhere, worse was that he could feel those cracks in his own uncertainty. So he held fast to his anger, and refused to listen to that voice within his mind.
Alexis suddenly looked up. “Rebecca, do you have an axe?”
“It would be foolish to decide to live in the woods unprepared,” she said as she stood and walked away. She disappeared around the hut and emerged carrying a large, rusty axe in both hands.
“Excellent!” cried the Legionnaire. He looked towards Adrian and Connor. “Milen and I will cut down any trees that we can use. I want you two to set about searching for bark or vines that can be used to lash the raft together.”
No, Connor opened his mouth to say, and stopped as he saw Alexis’s stern gaze fixed on him. The Legionnaire removed his large knife from his belt and tossed it at Connor’s feet.
“We’ll see how much we can get done by noon,” said Alexis as he stood. “Milen, I will need your help.”
Milen looked up at him, startled out of his thoughts. Alexis b
eckoned him to follow him. Milen glanced around at them in turn, and waited for his mother’s nod before climbing to his feet. He and Alexis disappeared into the woods.
Connor stood as well, holding the large knife by his side. He didn’t look at Adrian as he turned and walked away, heading into the woods in a direction different than Alexis and Milen.
“Don’t wander off to far,” Rebecca called. “It’s easy to get lost in these woods.”
Connor intended to heed her advice. The crunch of leaves and branches behind him told him Adrian was following him. He tried not to let it bother him too much. Bark, Alexis had said, and that was what Connor searched the woods for. He didn’t know where Alexis intended to find bark or vines; there were none that he could see. He walked a wide circle around the clearing, eyes scanning the woods. Truth to be told, he didn’t entirely feel safe away from the Legionnaire.
“How about those?” Adrian said suddenly. Connor turned to look at where he pointed, a few green saplings barely taller than the two of them. “We can strip the bark from those,” Adrian suggested.
It wasn’t a bad idea, Connor had to admit grudgingly. He headed towards the small trees without a word to his cousin. Adrian followed behind him.
“You know that if I could change the past, I would,” Adrian said suddenly. His voice was barely above a whisper, but Connor heard it clearly. “I don’t know what I am anymore ... but I feel different, because of the way everyone regards me now. I feel that I’ve changed without changing at all.”
Connor bent and hacked at the base of the sapling. It didn’t take long to cleave through it, and all the while Adrian’s words rang in his mind, poisoning his conscious further. Connor tossed the sapling over his shoulder and began hacking at another one. He didn’t want to think on Adrian’s words, he didn't want to think at all, just hold on to the anger he felt and keep the rest of his emotions at bay. Shut up and work, he thought bitterly at the other boy. It seemed to work, for Adrian spoke no more.
When they headed back towards the clearing they both carried large armfuls of saplings. Alexis and Milen had not returned, but there were still quite a few hours left till noon, Connor judged. He dumped his pile before his seat and began to work. Rebecca joined them as well, producing a small knife for Adrian and herself. Together they set to stripping the small trees of leaves and branches, and then began the arduous job of trying to peel the green bark off. It was slow work.
“So where are you lads from?” Rebecca asked as she worked.
“Port Hope,” Connor answered her.
“Ah. Is it a nice city?”
“Yes. It rests right on the harbor ... and it’s big enough.”
Rebecca nodded. “Do you two live together there then?”
Connor’s lips thinned. After a few moments in which neither Adrian nor he spoke, he said, “Yes. At my father’s inn, the Golden Lilly.”
“Ah. So am I to believe that you two don’t speak to one another there as well?”
Connor could feel her gaze on him but refused to meet her eyes. He didn’t want to see the disapproval on her face. Instead he continued working silently, hoping she would let it drop.
Rebecca sighed. “I know what it is like to be persecuted because of your differences. I saw enough of it in how people treated Milen. So let me tell you two something I have learned: life is too short to waste on trivial, bitter matters such as these. They bring joy to no one, only pain.”
Connor glanced up to meet her eyes. Rebecca’s gaze wandered from him to Adrian.
“You two are too young to hold these feelings within you. They tear grown men apart. I shudder to think how they will affect you, children that you are. My counsel would be to relinquish whatever demons you hold inside and purge your mind clean.”
After that she spoke no more, and they worked in quiet silence. Alexis and Milen returned to drop off a load of long branches as thick as Milen’s immense arms. The Legionnaire had taken his coat off but still wore his guns; the lack of concealment only made the silver revolvers that much more glaringly obvious. Alexis glanced at the work they had finished, gave a satisfactory nod, and headed back into the woods.
By the time the sun was high they had a large pile of peeled bark. Alexis and Milen had managed to cut down quite a few of the smaller trees and carry them to camp. The work seemed almost easy for Milen, but Connor saw the Legionnaire wiping sweat off his forehead many times.
“I believe we all need a respite for now,” Rebecca said aloud.
A clay jar of water was passed around as they all sat around the fire site, and Rebecca dished out helpings of her vegetable stew. It was a small rest before going back to work, Connor knew.
They worked all through the afternoon, Connor and Adrian fetching more saplings and stripping them, and Alexis and Milen cutting down more thin trees and branches and adding them to the pile. By evening they were all well past exhaustion.
Connor ate dinner with his body feeling tired and peaceful. He could see the weariness in the others as well. It seemed to affect Milen the least, and it did not surprise Connor much; throughout the day Milen had worked right alongside Alexis with hardly a sign of fatigue. Instead, he had looked as if he had enjoyed doing it.
Following Alexis’ suggestion Connor and Adrian filled a few pales with water and placed all the thin bark in them, so that the bark could soak overnight. Connor finished this and headed for the hut, with Adrian following him. He lay down on his blanket and was asleep before resting his head for a full two minutes.
3
When everyone else had gone to sleep Alexis stayed outside with the remnants of the dying fire. He felt incredibly tired, shoulders and back aching, but he wanted to remain outside for a few moments more. There was a peace in the woods, with the pale moon hanging above and the sound of the river not too far away. He took out his large guns. They gleamed beneath the moonlight. He opened the chambers, saw all six rounds loaded, and snapped them shut. He let his thoughts drift.
He worried about spending too much time here. If the assassins were after them, following their trail through the woods, they would find them here. He didn’t entirely believe anymore that the attackers had pursued them into the woods - or if they had, then they had lost his and the boys’ trail - but he didn’t want to leave anything to chance. And now there was Milen and Rebecca to care for also; they were too good for him to simply let die if the assassins arrived. But he also knew that if the assassins arrived and he saw a clear route to escape, he would take Adrian and run and leave the rest behind unless it could be helped. It shamed him to realize it, but he had a duty, and there was more than his pride riding on it. So much more. Have I really sunk so low? He cleared his head of the thought; he would do what had to be done, what he had promised to do, and try not to let it eat away at him.
He holstered his guns and went inside and lay down on the ground beside the boys.
4
“Adrian!” Connor shouts to him. “We have to go back to the inn!”
Adrian looks up from the ships swaying before him and the distant black clouds that shroud the horizon, and sees his cousin waiting. He leaps from the wall and heads over to him. Together they begin to walk up the street towards the Golden Lilly. Above them the sky is a perfect bright blue and the molten sun hangs unhidden. The lower market is full of people, as it always is in the afternoon, but there is something odd about it. He looks from person to person, and notices that they all look away from him, faces obscured in shadows.
“Do you see them, Connor?” he asks.
Connor simply looks at him crossly. “Of course I see them. Why wouldn’t I?”
In silence they continue up the street, and every face that he looks at turns away and grows dark. He looks behind them, and notices that the distant black clouds are slowly rolling towards them. A storm, he thinks. He remembers then the tales told to children of such clouds on such bright days; that they hid witches.
He puts the clouds out of his mind as they app
roach the inn. Instead of going to the stables, as they had originally intended, they head into the common room.
“Adrian, you’re back!” shouts Bertha as she emerges from the kitchens.
He looks at her, wondering why her face is not changing. “I never went anywhere,” he tells her, confused. Had he gone somewhere? It’s hard for him to remember anything before Connor had retrieved him. The clouds... he thinks, suddenly worried. The worry dies, and there is nothing left but a sense of trepidation; something about the clouds ... what they bring ... but he can’t remember what.
Bertha turns around and walks back to the kitchens. Adrian looks around for Connor, but he’s nowhere to be found. At the back of the common room he sees his uncle walk into one of the private rooms behind some shadowed men, and he wants to shout out, though he doesn’t understand why. The door slams shut behind Jon Moor.
Feeling in a daze, he heads into the kitchens. All the maids and cooks that turn to regard him look away quickly, shadows concealing their faces. Off to one side he sees his cousins sitting at the table, with Nina standing over them. He heads towards them as though walking through thick jam.
“Adrian!” Anne shouts.
He looks at her smiling face. His gaze shifts to one of the windows and he sees that it is suddenly growing dark outside. The clouds! he thinks, and even as the thought comes to him he hears the first cracks of lightening far off in the city. Screams announce more lightening, closer, and the sound of stones and mortar crumbling and tearing apart. He looks towards his cousins, and sees them staring at him in horror. He takes a step forward to warn them, and they cringe and retreat from him, as though he were a vile snake.
“Get away!” Nina shrieks from where she has fallen against the wall. “Please! Leave us!”
He doesn’t understand, and can only look at them in wonder. Then the sound of God’s hands clapping comes from directly overhead, and a dozen bolts of lightning rip through the roof of the inn, tearing everything apart. He’s tossed to the ground, and shuts his eyes against the bright bolts, hearing them lay waste to everything.