by Ijaz, Usman
Leah took out her harp and began to tune it. Alexis hoped she wouldn’t play the song she had earlier that day. He studied the map he had bought, recognizing it for the poor effort that it was. What good was a map that showed so little?
“So, where are you two handsome lads from?” Leah asked. Alexis glanced at her, and wondered if the boys would offer her a reply or if their discomfort would keep them silent.
“Port Hope,” Connor said, and not without a little pride. It was clear to Alexis the boy was still in pain, but he decided he would let Connor judge how much he could take.
“Port Hope? I cannot say I have heard of it. What country?”
“Grandal,” Adrian chimed in hoarsely.
“Ah. Grandal. And what of your surly companion? Is he from there, as well?” Leah asked with a smile in her voice.
“You know I’m not,” Alexis told her without looking up from the map.
“Well, the rumors running around Sune placed you as either a Legionnaire, or a prince, or the blood relative of a prince, or simply a fool. So many different titles to chose from.”
Alexis looked up to see both Connor and Adrian smiling to themselves. He allowed that if anything the girl was at least good company for them. He reverted to studying the map.
“So which one are you? The fool or the prince?”
“Neither one,” he told her. He was beginning to tire of her prying questions.
“For myself, I believe you to be a fool apprentice who stole his master's guns. Last I heard, the Legion did not allow boys to enter their ranks.”
“And what would you know of it, girl?” Alexis asked her in a dark mood.
“I am not a girl!” Leah declared.
The boys seemed to find their banter amusing. They lay down in their blankets with small smiles. Alexis watched them in sidelong glances, and he witnessed the smiles wither and die, and saw how their forlorn gazes seemed to stretch far away, as though they dwelt on something out of reach. Leah seemed to regain some of her composure. She settled herself to strumming her harp. Indeed, the sound was calming, for before long the two boys lay dozing in their blankets.
Alexis put away the map after a while and sat staring into the dying flames. Behind him one of the horses gave a snort as it lay down. His gaze shifted from the fire to Leah across from him. He stood and went and sat down on the ground beside her. She watched him settle himself, and then her attention went back to her harp.
“Who taught you how to play?” Alexis asked.
She regarded him with mistrust for a moment, then said, “When I was ten, my parents apprenticed me to a local bard. I learned everything I know from him.”
“What was his name?”
“Gilan of the Marshes, as he liked to be called.”
Alexis picked a blade of grass and played with it in a distracted manner. “You must have been very good if he decided you were ready so quickly.”
“He-- he died,” Leah said. She spoke the words as though admitting something to herself she didn’t particularly want to. “I figured I had learned as much from him as I could, and I did not want to set out with another master, so I set out by myself.”
“Are female bards very common in ...” Alexis began, then realized he didn’t know where she was from. “Where are you from?”
Leah sniffed at the question. “Wherever I want,” she said in clear refusal of an answer.
“Hmm. Well, I imagine female bards are very common there.”
“You do not have female bards in Grandal?”
“There are many female singers in the west, but not many female musicians. I suspect then that you must be from somewhere east.”
“What do you want, Alexis?” she asked him, vexed.
Alexis let out a tired breath; so much for a smooth conversation. “I want you to part ways with us.”
“And why should I do that?”
“Because you don’t know what you’re getting involved in. You put yourself at risk for nothing.”
“It is my choice. I have already put myself in danger for you, and I feel the least you can do in return is allow me to travel along with you.”
“That’s what I don’t understand! Why would you want to travel with us?”
“Every bard must have their tale if they are to be remembered after their time has passed. I know that I will find mine at your side. Gilan died without ever having crafted a tail of his own that people remembered his name for after his death. He once told me, ‘The only immortality to be found is through song and folklore, all else is false ambition.’ I promised myself then that people would remember me after I died, and in remembering me remember my old master.”
The words startled Alexis. Had Michael not said something very familiar to him about songs and immortality? He laughed bitterly then. “All this talk of finding your tale, and you don’t even realize you may never have time to set it to paper if you’re caught with us.”
“Let me worry of the dangers to myself,” she stated defiantly. “I am not seeking your approval or your consent.”
Alexis stood up and stalked back to his own blankets. He lay on the cold ground for a long time, unable to sleep. He could feel Leah’s eyes watching him from across the fire. At last he heard her put away her harp and slip into her own blankets. I can’t let her endanger us all like this, he thought. My burden is heavy enough without having to care for another.
3
Adrian woke to the dull darkness of dawn at Alexis’s shaking. He sat up and watched the Legionnaire move to wake Connor. Adrian looked around and saw the shadowed shapes of the horses moving restlessly, and Leah repacking her gear. The fire had burned down and was reduced to glowing coals. It seemed too him that it was too early to wake up. Much of the land was still shrouded in darkness, with morning only a hint across the horizon. But he shook himself awake and stood up. It seemed that he had lain down but only a few minutes ago. The cold from the earth seemed to have seeped into him, and the chill hanging in the air didn’t do anything to lessen it. Adrian moved to the saddle packs and found the waterskins. He drank in small sips, hating the soreness that came awake at the act. When he was done he carried the water skin back to where Connor sat looking morbid and handed it over to him. Adrian picked up the blanket that had kept him partly warm through the night, and draped it around himself as he moved closer to the smoldering embers of the fire.
“I don’t understand why we have to be up so early,” Leah said from where she was cinching the straps to her saddle.
“We have wasted enough time already. But if that’s how you feel, go back to sleep,” Alexis told her.
Adrian hunkered down before the coals, trying to attract as much of their warmth as he could. Connor came and knelt down beside him, his own blanket draped across his shoulders. For a while they sat quietly.
“Still ... having dreams?” Connor asked hoarsely.
Adrian worried at the sound of Connor’s voice, it seemed to have become worse rather than better. “No,” he told him softly.
They didn’t talk much after that. When Alexis called them to mount up they rose quietly and headed for their horse. In little time they were riding away from the site. As Adrian glanced back, it looked to him that but for the fire there was no sign any of them had stopped there. It saddened him for some reason he couldn’t quite place. He grabbed hold of Connor’s waist as his cousin led the horse over a small rise and then back onto the old road. If not for Connor being the better rider, Adrian would have made him change their positions. He raised his scarf to mask the dust as the horses’ hooves beat on the hard-packed road, and Connor had his up as well before long. Alexis led them along the broken highway while Leah rode beside them.
Adrian stared ahead, but from the corner of his eye he could see Leah looking at him. When he met her stare, she smiled and looked ahead. But in another moment she was studying him again. What does she want? he wondered. He didn’t particularly dislike her, rather he felt he was neutral to her, but tha
t left much room for trust and suspicion to sway.
Their recent incarceration in Sune had taught him he couldn’t trust anyone on first sight, but did that mean he had to distrust everyone until they proved they meant no harm? He had trusted Hamar and Owain, certainly now that he thought of them, but who was to say about this female bard that wouldn’t leave them? Must everyone die to save you in order for you to trust them? The thought was callous and hard, and shame overwhelmed him.
He set his mind to watching the hills and countryside that they passed. It was easier than letting endless thoughts mull around his head. This used to be the land of my ancestors, he thought. There’s a sense of peace to it, however faded it feels.
The sky overhead was brightening with every minute that passed. Sunrise crept over the world from the distant horizon, spreading like a dazzling fog. It was an odd and yet beautiful thing to see: the dark giving way to the light. Adrian looked ahead, and saw that Alexis had halted atop the steep rise they climbed. As they came abreast of him, Adrian drew in a gasp.
Connor moved their horse to one side of the Legionnaire while Leah moved her mount to the other. In that manner the small party sat atop the crest of the hill, looking at the sight before them.
The waking sun shed everything in a dazzling golden light. At the foot of the hill, and spreading for miles in every direction, the ground wasn’t visible at all, save for the road that led to the city in the center. Memory-blossoms carpeted the ground all over, large flowers of brilliant gold that caught and held the sun's light. Their delicate wide petals waved in the breeze like open hands. In the center of each blossom was a small red orb. To watch the sea of blossoms move in the breeze was like watching a sleeping beast - the rolling land seemed to be alive, breathing in its perpetual sleep. In the center was the city, but Adrian's eyes passed over it for the moment. The field of memory-blossoms stretched behind the city, and all around it, making the city appear an island in a golden sea. The blossoms spread all across the bare country that surrounded the city and disappeared out of sight.
Then Adrian's eyes went to the large city at the center of the field of flowers, the city that the road led to. Like the field spreading around it, the city was fascinating to behold. Tall, pale yellow walls, seeming to be of a whole structure rather than bricks, stretched into the bright sky. Behind those walls rose small towers, some broken and few standing whole. Their conical tops were in an array of different colors, from red tiles to green and blue. Noticing the broken towers, Adrian’s eyes wandered to the broken gates leading into the city.
"Asgar," Connor breathed.
"The Field of the Dead," Leah whispered.
Adrian barely heard them. He watched the city in a daze, and remembered the pain and misery of his dreams.
Alexis was the first to get over their stupor. "Well, if we came to see it then let's see it," he said, and heeled his horse forward. Adrian and Connor followed. A small flock of robins rose abruptly from the field as they passed near.
Adrian studied the flowers all around the road, and remembered Leah’s words just moments past. "Why is it called the Field of the Dead?"
"None of this used to be here," Leah explained." It was all bare country like we rode through most of yesterday. When Asgar fell, its inhabitants murdered, it rained for a fortnight straight. After the hard rain these memory-blossoms began to bloom where none of their kind had been seen before."
"What -- what happened to the bodies?" Adrian asked.
She looked away from him, disquiet plain on her face.
"They were taken from the city and dragged outside," Alexis said after a while. "I suppose there they still lie today, beneath the flowers and beneath the ground."
Adrian looked at the field of flowers all around him, and imagined all the bodies that must be hidden beneath. He looked away, feeling sick.
As they drew closer he saw other signs that mired the city’s beauty. The cracks and tears in the walls from siege engines and cannons became more plain. They rode to the broken gates and the large archway. The tall wooden gates had not been made to keep out enemies. One lay on the ground, battered and broken, and the other leaned aslant on its hinges, as if wishing to join its comrade on the ground. Their color, a deep green with gold patterns, had faded long ago. Looking past the one remaining door, Adrian could see that many of the buildings had been reduced to rubble, and many more were charred black in areas. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see any more of it, but they had come so far, and he meant to bear it through. Some part of him felt he had to witness this, to make himself truly realize the extent of the brutality that had occurred here.
Connor and he followed Alexis past the broken gate. As the shadow of the archway spread over them, Adrian abruptly felt the whole world shift and spin. He heard Connor's hoarse, alarmed cry, and then saw the ground rush up to meet him.
Chapter 27
Now and Then, Here and There
1
Adrian felt the rough kiss of the earth on his face and pushed himself wearily to his feet. He wiped at the dirt smeared on his left cheek as he glanced about, and stopped abruptly. He stood in a field of barley that stretched endlessly in every direction. The wind rolling across the land brought the smell of barley to his nostrils, and he breathed it in deeply. He chanced to glance at the sun, but it stood right overhead and shone brightly. Eyes feeling dazzled, he returned his gaze to the country surrounding him. The same breeze that blew his dirty-blond hair out of his face moved the wheat field in a calm ritual, as though a large hand brushed the stalks. Adrian turned full circle, and could see nothing but the endless field in every direction. He couldn’t figure out where he was, or how he’d gotten there.
Then a shape in the sky caught his attention.
At first he mistook it to be a bird, but then realized that no bird he had ever seen moved so freely. The shape in the sky moved with the grace of a butterfly, constantly shifting track and flying in zigzag patterns, large wings riding the winds. Then he saw that it was a woman. Her long golden hair flowed behind her as her wings rose and fell like white propellers, carrying her across the sky. She flew with a beauty that was breathtaking, darting through milky clouds and emerging into unfiltered sunlight. She flew as though free of some bounds that he would forever be held by. It was as if Adrian watched a dance in the air. For the moment, his worries of waking in this strange place were forgotten. The beautiful white wings beat against the currents of air and the woman rose higher, as though attempting to break free of this world. Adrian thought he had never seen anything so free.
Then the wings seemed to fail and the woman fell like a stone.
He watched on in dismay as the figure rushed towards the ground. Some part of him expected the wings to come back to life and carry her back into the sky, but they remained limp. The woman plummeted to the earth.
Adrian rushed towards where she had fallen. He worried at what he would find - a shattered body - but he rushed to her nonetheless. He fought his way through the barley, pushing stalks out of his way and trying not to let his feet catch and trip him.
When he came closer to where he believed she had fallen, he saw a single pale feather snagged on a stalk. He wanted to groan at the sight of it. He rushed to the source of it. He came tearing out of the barley and into a small clearing. The woman stood across from him, her back turned to him and her face upturned to the sky. She stood wingless, and he saw feathers drifting all around the clearing, carried on the breeze. At the sound of him she turned to face him, and smiled. Adrian felt numbness spread through his entire being at the sight of the woman from his dreams, the woman he felt certain was his mother.
“There you are,” she said, her voice soft and filled with warmth.
Adrian could do nothing but stare at her. With the bright day illuminating her before him, and free of the blood and dirt and wounds he had seen her covered in so many times in his nightmares, she looked even more beautiful than he had imagined. Her golden hair cascaded past her sho
ulders, and gray eyes met his out of a proud face. She was dressed in a plain dress, but it only seemed to accent her beauty.
“You ... you fell,” Adrian said. He felt as though words should have been pouring out of him in a flood, demanding to know why he had been haunted by such dreadful dreams, but the words seemed to have dried up.
“Yes. We all fell.” She rushed forward then and hugged him tightly to her. “My dear Adrian.”
For a moment Adrian felt too startled to do anything, then he relaxed and wrapped his arms around her as well. The clean and wonderful scent of flowers off the prairie filled him. He almost felt reluctant to let her go when she pulled back. She studied him proudly.
“Come,” she said as she took hold of his hand. “You must see your home.”
She began to lead him away through the field. Adrian let her lead him, feeling dazed. It wasn’t long before they stepped out onto the edge of a road. A wagon drawn by a pony went lumbering by. Adrian stared at the wagon driver as his mother led him in the opposite direction.
“Lysa,” he said abruptly, and she turned to look at him. “Uncle Jon said your name was Lysa.”
She smiled at him, a smile that showed all the affection she held for him. “Your uncle is a great man.”
Adrian picked up his step to match hers. He let his hand rest in hers. He attempted to sort his thoughts, but they escaped any attempt of orderliness. “Why did you send me those horrible dreams?” he asked her at last. He stared up at her until she looked down and met his gaze. He saw hurt and shame clearly in her eyes, but mixed with a strong resolve.