The Refuge wasn’t even close to ready for the Infernam. Bowe’s idea of fitting everyone inside seemed further away than ever; they’d be lucky to get the usual numbers in. Of course, that would lead to fighting between those who came late against those already inside. Survival of the strongest.
Outside, Helion was low in the sky, a heavy belly of purple light, a pregnant demon about to give birth to the fires of hell. Wheels creaked as a wagon approached the top of the slope. Night was a busy time for arrivals; it was only during the heat of the day that activity lulled. Too much was coming too quickly, though; too many people, too many supplies. Just outside the entrance was a permanent jumble of disorganization.
“I was told to expect to find you sleeping. You aren’t going soft on me, mush-for-brains, are you?”
Bowe didn’t have a reply. He just stood soaking her in, her red hair, the way her gray eyes seemed to glow violet under the purple light of Helion.
Iyra shook her head. “Gone soft in the head, is that it?”
“I have been told that I have mush for brains.”
Only a pace separated the two of them, yet as they stood facing each other, the short distance seemed impossible to cross.
“I heard what you did,” Iyra said.
“Oh.” Bowe exhaled with a soft breath. She had heard about how he groveled in the dirt at Hess’s feet. Of course she had—everyone had.
“I heard you gave up everything you worked so hard to build up so that the ascor would be defeated, so that the escay would be free. I heard you planned to allow everyone into the Refuge. Oh, Bowe.” Iyra threw herself into Bowe’s arms. Bowe wrapped himself around her, feeling whole again. “Is it true, Bowe? Is it true that everyone will get in? That there’ll be no need for thousands to go out on suicide barges?”
“I’m not certain.”
Iyra put her hand on his chest, putting some space between them so she could look up at him. “It better be true. I spent the last few days persuading everyone I knew that they should come up here to help make it happened.”
“And did they come?”
“Some. Arguments rage throughout the city about what should be done. Some are putting their faith in Hess getting them in. Others are clinging to the hope that the Guardians will get back into power in time and reward those who earned their place just like always. And a small few trust in Bowe Bellanger’s crazy idea that everyone can...”
“Live happily ever after.”
“Exactly. Live happily ever after.” Iyra smiled. “Though I’ve a feeling that some I persuaded will return straight back to Hess’s scarred bosom when they come up here and see the mess.”
“It’s a bit disorganized,” Bowe admitted.
“A bit. That’s a mush-for-brains comment if I ever heard one. What can we do to improve things?”
“Well.” Bowe considered. “The entrance of the Refuge is a massive bottleneck. If that could be cleared. At night, unloading can be done outside the Refuge, but during the day it’s too hot to work, or even to leave supplies outside. What we could do with is a structure outside.” Bowe studied the layout of the area in front of the entrance. “Or better again, two structures, one on either side.”
“So make it happen.”
Bowe sighed. “I’m sure you heard of my latest misadventure with Hess. I’m not sure my suggestions would have much weight of authority right now.”
“That’s just silliness. We just need some wood to build a structure, then throw some canvas over it. It only has to last ten days or so. That can be built in a day or two, with many hands, I’m sure. And if anyone questions your authority, you can send them to me and I’ll kick their ass for you.”
“It’s not that simple.”
Iyra raised her eyebrows. “Kick their ass, I said. Everyone knows that you did what you did with Hess to get your way. And you succeeded in that. Well, maybe not everyone, but some people. I do, at least.”
Bowe chuckled and hugged her closer to him. “It seems more possible with you here. Do you really believe in my crazy idea?”
“It’s worth fighting for,” Iyra said. “Maybe even dying for.” She touched the hilt of the knife at Bowe’s belt. “I can’t remember you carrying a weapon before. I’m not sure I like it.”
“I only used it once, and I probably won’t need to again,” Bowe said. “Don’t rely on my fighting skills. If there ends up being a fight here at the Refuge, then I have already lost.”
Chapter 16
8 Days Left
The early-morning breeze was causing trouble for the completion of Right Post.
“Hold tight!” Bowe, unable to help with the pulling because of his missing hand, shouted what everyone already knew.
Left Post had been completed in the hours before dawn. The wooden structure of Right Post was in place, and patches of canvas meant for mainsails had been sewn into the correct shape. Unfortunately, the breeze had decided to treat the canvas more like a sail than a roof, and it wanted to steal it off them. Dozens of heels dug into the ground, and dozens of hands held tight to ropes while the canvas billowed into the air.
Iyra and several others were lifted completely off their feet by a particularly strong gust. Those still attached to the ground had to redouble their efforts to keep the canvas from flying away.
“Hold tight!” Bowe shouted again. He wasn’t sure how long losing the canvas would delay their efforts, but he knew they couldn’t afford it. Time was tight—they couldn’t afford to waste an hour.
The wind died and the people on the ropes began to win the tug of war. Once they managed to flatten the top part enough so that the canvas no longer caught the wind, it swiftly fell into place. Ropes holding the canvas into place were tied down, and nailing began. Another thing Bowe couldn’t do very well with only one hand.
Beyond Right Post, the cliffs fell away into the sea. The morning sun danced on the sparkling wave tips. The ground between Left Post and Right post had been churned into dirt by countless wheel ruts and footsteps. Scraggly yellow grass clung to the hillock into which the four entrances were cut. The area behind Left Post was full of empty wagons and other items that wouldn’t be put inside the Refuge. The next job would be to clear that area to create more space.
Bowe turned around to look down toward the city. Hundreds of escay climbed upward, some with wagons, some bringing livestock—mainly young animals—some just with backpacks. It took several hours to get from the city to the Refuge; all those on the hill would hope to make the Posts before the sun reached too high into the sky.
The cityscape of Arcandis was familiar, with one exception. Rising above the houses were the black stones of the Fortress, the four towers of Raine Mansion, and the minarets adorning the top of Lessard Mansion. The space where Bellanger Mansion should have been was achingly empty.
Iyra joined Bowe. “We are making progress.”
“Left Post and Right Post will be visible from Arcandis,” Bowe said. “I wonder whether it will encourage more who live in the city to arrive.” Tens of thousands of those who lived in the countryside had arrived, and more arrived every day. But only several hundred from Arcandis City, which contained the bulk of the population of the island.
“Those in the city are used to entering the Refuge only in the last day or two,” Iyra said.
“They are waiting to see whether Hess or the ascor will win,” Bowe said. “Then they will follow the victor to the Refuge.” Which would be Hess. And there would be a bloodbath if the Refuge were full before Hess arrived.
“Perhaps,” Iyra said. “Keep the faith.” She nodded down the slope to a group of four boys just reaching the top. “They come from the city, I believe, and it looks like one of them recognizes you.”
Bowe, recognizing the smile, hurried down the slope. Three of the boys paused; only Coinal continuing forward to greet Bowe.
“Great to see you have regained your smile,” Bowe said.
“I’m having an argument with these three behi
nd me,” Coinal said. The three watched the conversation with sideways-glancing looks. “I wondered if you could settle it for me.”
“Go on.”
“There are those who say that this time around no one will be refused entry to the Refuge. Others say that is impossible. Putting aside whether it is possible or not, I claimed that Greens have as much a right to entry as anyone else. Adello, Magny, and Rodolfo”—Coinal gestured to the three boys behind him—“disagree. They think that new rules might apply to escay, but Greens still have to be selected or chosen. The special rules that apply to Greens haven’t changed; they still must walk the Path.”
Bowe addressed the other boys over Coinal’s head. “Where do you stand on the lists?”
One of them shrugged. Another said: “No one cares about the lists anymore.”
“Exactly. No one is following what the Greens are doing this year. I was a mentor and a Guardian, supposed to select three Greens, and now I’m not even an ascor. The Green Path has collapsed. It’s a new day for everyone, including Greens. Come join us in readying the Refuge for everybody.”
“Come.” Bowe put his arm around Coinal’s shoulder and guided him toward the Posts. Behind, the three boys broke out into a loud argument.
“They’ll follow,” Coinal told Bowe. “They just needed to be told firsthand.”
“And the other Greens?” Bowe remembered all the Greens who he hadn’t been able to help on the Path six years ago. If his plan worked—and there was still so much uncertainty, including how to fit everyone in and what to do about Hess and the ascor—he could save most of the Greens this time around.
“Like the rest of the city’s population, most are suspicious of your plan. Hearing that the other three and I were welcomed in might sway a few. Some of the Greens have joined Hess’s followers.”
“And Hess allows this?” Bowe had figured that Hess’s hatred of the ascor would have extended to their sons.
“I don’t think they advertise that they are Greens.”
It was fast becoming better to be an escay than an ascor. Everything had been turned upside down. “And those that still believe that the Path will operate as normal?” Bowe asked. Traditional routes of winning have disappeared. With no fights in the Eye, what would Wolflings do? And if a Shadow killed another Green, who would even notice?
“Yorshin has taken his Defenders to Raine Mansion, adding to their defenses. He believes that this time around, Selects will come from those who have helped the ascor defeat the Guild.”
Bowe nodded. There was a logic in that. The Greens were splitting similarly to the rest of the population. Those who believed Hess would win were joining him, those who thought that the ascor would decide things in the end, just like they always had, were holding to the old traditions.
A tall man with long, stringy blond hair strode out of Left Post to confront Bowe. “He wants to mess everything up.”
Oamir peeked out of Left Post. Sindar and Oamir were trying to make changes to how the Refuge was organized, to improve efficiency. Normally, Sindar was able to shout down objections but he didn’t seem to be around.
“Calm down,” Bowe said. “Let’s discuss this rationally.”
“As Mayor of Gyveny, my job is to keep my people safe. We worked hard all sexennium and have all the proper amounts of food and seed and livestock. I know where everything goes inside the Refuge and what to do. My father showed me, just as my grandfather showed him. Now this kid wants to mess everything up.”
“I understand your concerns.” Gyveny was the second biggest village after Belldeem, out on the west of the island.
“Well, that kid certainly doesn’t. Are you in charge here?”
“Not exactly.”
Bowe had started to take more responsibility, but he was hesitant to take too much. He couldn't help picturing a close-up view of Hess’s leather shoes whenever he was about to give an order.
“Well, whoever is in charge should tell that kid to stop interfering. He wants to change everything. He doesn’t know how much water our calves need. He doesn’t know which parts of the Refuge we supply food to. Once the Infernam begins, it’s too hot to think, too packed to move. Unless everyone knows their responsibilities, everything will fall apart. People will be left without water, livestock will be wiped out.”
Before Bowe could figure out what to say to the mayor, angry shouts filled the air as another argument broke out, this one involving Urdo and Iyra.
“Wait here,” Bowe told the mayor, and he raced to the Lessard entrance of the Refuge where Iyra stood in front of Urdo.
“What’s going on?” Bowe asked.
“This girl has gone crazy,” Urdo said.
“She has?”
Urdo snorted. “Yes. She thinks I’m going to leave Big Boona behind.”
Iyra clenched her hands into fists. “No weapons in the Refuge.”
“Crazy girl is crazy.”
The commotion had also drawn Meelyn, who came to stand beside Urdo.
“There’s never been a restriction on weapons in the Refuge before,” Bowe said to Iyra.
“Well there should be. What good are weapons down there? Just taking up space and offering the possibility of bloodshed.”
“The marshals kept peace before,” Meelyn said. “That could be our role now.”
Meelyn’s voice was soft but her eyes were hard. She wanted to carve out an important role for herself and her people. Already her men were escorting the farmers through the city to the Refuge. Hess hadn’t attacked anyone, but the protection was a deterrent while also providing reassurance to those who feared to travel through the city with all the uncertainty. Bowe was grateful for the help that Meelyn was providing, but he didn’t want weapons to rule in the new era he had envisioned. Whoever held the weapons would ultimately control entrance to the Refuge. Even if Meelyn didn’t hold them over people’s heads this time, what about in Infernams to come?
“Iyra is right,” Bowe said. “There’s no place for weapons in the Refuge. They should be left above ground and they can be collected by their owners after the Infernam.”
“Says little man. How are you going to make that happen?” Urdo lifted one of his feet. “My toes are dusty. Perhaps you will lick them clean?”
“No.” Bowe had to kill the image of him debasing himself in front of Hess or he was useless. He had to kill it within himself as well as within others. Bowe swiveled around. A strange stillness and silence hung in the air. Those who had been inside the Posts had spilled out to watch the confrontation.
Bowe raised his stump into the air. It felt weird to have the outside air touch it; he was so used to hiding it. “Some of you know me as a one-handed ex-Guardian!” he shouted out, though he barely needed to with everyone’s attention on him. “Some of you know me as the Green who walked the Path and emerged on the other side with a dead family brought back to life. The one who pointed the Army of Pots and Pans at the Jarindor invasion force. As the one who burned Bellanger Mansion to the ground so the Fortress could be successfully stormed.”
“Braggart,” Iyra whispered under her breath.
Bowe ignored her. He had decided the best way to address what had happened with Hess was not to address it but to give a reminder of what else he had done. A reminder for himself as well as everyone else. “I say this because I have seen the impossible happen many times in my short life. You have all heard of the crazy plan to allow everyone to enter the Refuge. Let me tell you that it’s not crazy, it’s not impossible. It will happen.” It was time for Bowe to put his own doubts aside. Half-hearted attempts achieved nothing of value. “I will make sure it happens if I have to make half the population stand on the shoulders of the other half inside the Refuge. The ascor are no longer in charge. The old way of organizing the Refuge is over. This is a new day and a new way. The new Refuge will be for everyone. There is no place for weapons in this new Refuge.”
“When did this new day start?” Meelyn asked. “Brend and Gotti
are inside the Refuge right now with swords at their belts.”
“It’s just starting and we are still figuring things out.”
Meelyn’s eyes narrowed as she considered. Hers was the only an armed group at the Refuge. She could take charge if she wanted. However, if she did, what would happen when Hess arrived?
“I am just one man.” Bowe decided to bring the matter to a head. “But I will fight for a Refuge for everyone with no weapons with my dying breath. If the rest of you here are fighting for something else, then ask this warrior beside me”—Bowe gestured at Urdo—“to put his sharp axe through my neck right now.”
Urdo lifted his axe. He was happy enough to kill, it seemed. Bowe hoped he hadn’t miscalculated.
“Urdo, hold,” Meelyn ordered. She leaned close to Bowe. “You didn’t have to put on this public song and dance performance,” she hissed under her breath. “We could have had a discussion.”
“This isn’t just about you and me,” Bowe whispered back. “It is about more than that.”
“Urdo, no weapons in the Refuge from now on,” Meelyn said loudly. “Make sure it happens.”
“But Big Boona—”
“The affection between you and Big Boona will only grow from any enforced absences, I’m sure.”
She gave Bowe a final glare, then swiveled on her heel and left.
“New day, new way,” Bowe declared. “The old traditions are no more. We walk a better path from now on.” Then, seeing that everyone waited for more, he said, “Now, back to work. Time isn’t on our side.”
As people shuffled back into Left Post and Right Post, Bowe returned to where the Mayor of Gyveny waited. “We aren’t going to do things the way your father and grandfather did,” Bowe told him. “It’s a new day.”
“The kid knows nothing about what we need to make sure that we and all our livestock survive.”
The Narrowing Path: The Complete Trilogy (The Narrowing Path Series Book 4) Page 66