by Jon Kiln
“We were lucky it was Dreth that came,” Berengar said as he turned away from the ruins.
“It appears the innkeeper was not as lucky under the King’s wrath.”
Berengar laid out on his bedding, staring up at the stars. “That’s why you stay in the King’s favor.”
They left again the next morning and rode through the day. As the terrain grew steeper and more wooded, the sun dropped down lower in the west.
“Are we stopping soon, sir?” Nisero asked.
“I want to get past the ruins before we make camp.”
Nisero narrowed his eyes. “Ruins? The ruins of… oh. Right, as you wish.”
They approached the edge of the village. Certain trees and markers appeared the same in the midst of new growth, but Berengar had always spent more time away than present. He could not be sure that the points of familiarity he saw now were real or imagined by a mind trying to grasp onto any detail.
They heard strikes and shouts ahead. Berengar turned to Nisero next to him to see if the Lieutenant heard the noises too or if these battling ghosts were only the kind that could be heard in his head.
Nisero glanced back and shook his head. “I don’t know what that is.”
Berengar drew his sword. “Leave a contingent to protect the support crew and deal with any that might flee this way. The rest need to be ready to act.”
Nisero wheeled his horse around and signaled the order back through the ranks. More men drew their blades.
“Belsh,” Berengar commanded. “You are on me. I order you not to get yourself killed.”
“Yes, sir,” Belsh said drawing a short sword from his belt.
As Nisero rode back up beside him, Berengar waved the company forward. Nisero relayed the order and the Elite Guard advanced.
They emerged at the edge of the town that had been Patron’s Hill, before it and most of it’s population was burned to the ground by Solag and her bandit forces. A part of Berengar was surprised when he did not find the burned bodies laid out in the streets for him to find, like on the day Solag had abducted Arianne, after murdering his wife Ari and son Hallen.
Even though that was years back, the noises and the ride with Nisero made him feel like time had slipped. He was back at the moments before the abductions. Now he was going to have to battle the bandit army with the full complement of the Elite Guard, and he would have to watch his wife and son die instead of just seeing the aftermath.
Berengar stared at the sawdust on the ground in confusion for a long moment as the hoofs of his horse kicked it up around him. His mind kept trying to shift the light dust of the present into the dark ash of the past.
It was Nisero who gave the order to pull up. The other men did so and sheathed their swords following the cue of the Lieutenant. Berengar and Belsh galloped out a bit farther before they pulled up as well. Berengar kept his sword out and ready and Belsh followed suit.
Captain Berengar lifted his eyes and saw living men and women on incomplete roofs placing boards and hammering them into place. Then, they overlaid thatch and tar shingles which they also attached in a waterproof shell.
Ropes and pulleys worked as men and children on the ground hauled up more bundles of wood to the higher floors and roofs of the buildings.
Some of the structures were in the same configuration of the old town from before the razing of Patron’s Hill. Other streets were reformed in patterns Berengar did not recognize. The markers of the past were built over and erased.
He felt heat rise in his cheeks.
Captain Berengar looked around expecting to see faces he recognized, but these were all strangers. He realized he was looking for people that he knew to be dead and gone. He found himself looking for Ari on one of the roofs or Hallen along the ground helping to pull up the wood. He would be wearing a regular army uniform on leave to help with the construction, or he would already have his Elite Guard colors as he prepared for a long career serving the King.
Berengar cleared his throat. “Who is in charge here? Present yourself.”
Nisero brought his horse up beside the Captain. The Lieutenant pitched his voice low. “Let’s handle this conversation with restraint, sir.”
Berengar waved back at Nisero. “Spread the men out and form a perimeter until we know what is going on here.”
Nisero cut his eyes over his shoulder to judge the earshot distance back to the other men. He spoke low again. “What is going on here is construction, sir. Let’s get the story before we act like it is a hostile takeover.”
Berengar turned his full attention on Nisero. “Can you fulfill your duty as my Lieutenant and follow my orders, or should I look for another?”
Nisero stared back for a beat. “In this as in all things, yes, Captain.”
Nisero brought his horse around and rode back to the men. He gave orders for them to shift their lines around two streets that cut diagonally along the rebuilding of Patron’s Hill. He ended with the instruction, “Leave swords sheathed and do no harm to any of these people. I will give the order, if that situation changes. Do not take that decision upon yourself. This instruction is firm.”
The men moved to obey.
A group of one older man and a few younger approached Captain Berengar on foot. They were not armed.
The older man looked Berengar up and down before he bowed before the man and the horse. The others behind the older man looked at each other and then they bowed too.
“Captain,” the man said. “It is an honor to be in the presence of the Elite Guard. I am Sault. We are still in the process of building our settlement as you can see, but any resource we have is at your disposal for whatever quarter you need, both for our loyalty to our gracious King and in gratitude for your long service in protecting us and the kingdom.”
“What are you doing here?” Berengar demanded. “This is not your town.”
One of the young men shouted from behind Sault. “We have a charter!”
“From the King,” another added.
Nisero rode up beside Berengar.
Sault held out his arms on both sides of him to silence the men behind. “We were displaced from our homes along the eastern border of the kingdom, near the beginning of the war. We have been living in poverty upon the charity of, and as a burden to, other towns since. We petitioned the crown for a grant to build a new home in another place. We would have accepted any rocky ground at that point just to no longer be beggars any longer. We were granted a gracious charter to rebuild Patron’s Hill here, where it was destroyed by bandits many years ago. We are all refugees from the war, but we are making a new home again thanks to the benevolence of the King.”
Berengar swallowed several times and worked his jaw as he stared down at Sault.
Belsh spoke next. “I lost my home in Spire and my family was scattered. I and my brothers serve in the army now, but we have yet to find the fate of the rest of our family.”
Sault nodded slowly. “There are many stories here far too much like yours, I’m afraid. I hope that you might still find those among your people who are missing.”
“I need to see this charter right away,” Berengar said.
The young men exchanged looks again.
Sault cleared his throat. “The document is sealed in a trunk in my quarters to keep it safe from damage and weather.”
“I wish to see it now,” Berengar insisted.
“As you wish, Captain.” Sault turned back to the men. “Bring my trunk—the whole thing, please. Don’t try to open it to take the charter out. I will handle that. Go now. Quickly.”
The men ran toward the north through the construction site.
Nisero turned to the boy. “Belsh, will you go back to our rear position and inform them that everything is fine, but to standby until further orders.”
“Yes, sir.” Belsh spun his horse by the snout.
Berengar held up a hand. “Stay with me, Belsh.”
Belsh stopped with his horse facing the opposite directi
on from the other men. He looked back and forth between the Lieutenant and Captain.
Nisero sighed and then whistled. “Send me up a man that can serve as messenger. Quickly, please.”
“They should be back shortly, sir,” Sault said. “I assure you that everything will be in order.”
“I will be out on the western edge of town,” Berengar said. “Can you meet me there with the document?”
Sault wiped sweat from his upper lip. “As you wish, Captain.”
Berengar sheathed his sword and kicked his horse into motion. “Belsh, on me.”
Belsh brought his horse around while putting away his own sword and followed.
Nisero remained in place as one of the Guardsmen rode up beside him. Nisero repeated the message and orders to the warrior as Berengar and Belsh disappeared between the partially completed buildings.
Berengar and Belsh entered the village square. The stone of the well was still intact from the days of Patron’s Hill’s first life. The bright, red roofing was new. Berengar thought he could still smell the fresh wood and paint. There was a bench built around the outside which obscured the stone. The Captain thought that was a waste of good construction.
People milled about the completed cottages in this section of the town. Children stood on the bench throwing stones down into the mouth of the well.
Berengar stared with his jaw clenched. He remembered lowering Nisero down into that well to search for bodies as they still did not know the fate of his daughter at that point. There had been a message left that Solag had her and wanted Berengar. Captain Berengar had gone, with Nisero at his side. Nisero gave up being a captain himself as he chose to ride with Berengar on the impossible mission.
“He did it so I would not have to go down into the well myself,” Berengar said aloud. “He did it so I would not have to go after Arianne alone, in my wild state of mind. I almost got us both killed as a result.”
Belsh cleared his throat. “Sir? I don’t understand.”
Berengar shook his head. “It would take too long to explain. Maybe another time.”
“Nisero is approaching from the east now,” Belsh said, “if you wish to discuss this. It appears Sault and the men with the trunk are with him.”
Berengar kicked his horse into motion. “Come.”
The western end of town was still undeveloped with the foundations of lost buildings and empty lots left behind.
Berengar stopped beside a large hearth and chimney standing alone on a grassy lot. There had been a lot of debris last time he was here. It must have been cleared at some point.
The Captain dismounted and Belsh did the same.
Berengar stared up at the hearth expecting to see some message written on it in ash. He was not sure what he thought he might see, but the stone was clean.
A group of horsemen rode up to the lot. Nisero dismounted and approached the Captain. The other men set the trunk down between their horses where they had been riding with the trunk held between. Sault opened the trunk and carefully brought out a scroll rolled around an oaken rod.
Berengar walked towards the men, but Nisero stepped in front of him and placed a hand on the Captain’s chest. “Do not create a problem for these people, sir.”
“You more than most should understand what this all means,” Berengar said tightly.
Berengar tried to walk around, but Nisero wrapped his fist in Berengar’s cloak and held him. “I also understand you are not the only one present who has lost something. You are not the only man trying to make a life out of pain from the past.”
Berengar took a deep breath and said, “I will conduct myself in a way that will honor all the dead that surround each of us, Lieutenant. Now may I pass?”
Nisero let go of the Captain’s cloak and stepped aside. Berengar approached the group once more.
Sault presented the document still rolled. “Captain, you will find everything here in order. The seal of the King is in place.”
Berengar gazed down at the charter in Sault’s hands, but did not move to take it. “What is the plan or claim on the property behind me?”
Sault glanced over the Captain’s shoulder, then back at Berengar’s face. “This land is encompassed within the measures of our charter. We intend to salvage the chimney and hearth. It is a fine piece. I imagine a new cottage will be built around it in time, but we have not begun work on the western side of the town beyond salvage and clearing debris.”
Berengar pointed back over his shoulder. “My family lived here before the bandit attack. Might I stake claim to this lot within your charter?”
Sault lowered the scroll back into the open trunk. “Captain, I had no idea. I hope I said nothing to upset you. We were under the impression that the population had been lost. Some of our people have family ties here, but they were distant. I assure you we had no idea.”
“I will be willing to negotiate a fair price for the claim,” Berengar said, dropping his hand.
Sault shook his head. “I won’t hear of it. The lot is yours as it always was. We will mark it as such until you are ready to reclaim it permanently.”
Berengar extended his hand and clasped the hand and forearm of Sault. “I appreciate your kindness.”
“You are one of us, Captain,” Sault said. “You are a refugee in search of his home.”
Berengar released the man’s arm. “I might be a while before I can concern myself with the matters of home.”
“We could mark out the borders and lay some of the groundwork for the foundation,” Sault suggested, “if you know the specifications of what you want to build.”
Berengar turned and stared at the empty space around the chimney. He saw the grand house that had once stood there, older than he himself. He found himself afraid to imagine rebuilding it. Berengar felt he was daring time and fire to do their dark work again.
He cleared his throat roughly. “I don’t have specifications yet, no.”
“Whenever you are ready, Captain. We have room enough to quarter your company for the night if you are stopping long on your journey.”
“Thank you, but I think it best that we put a few more miles down before we stop.”
Sault looked toward the sun on the horizon to the west and shrugged.
“As you wish, Captain.”
Chapter 4: Swelling Population
Berengar stood at the edge of the site and stared out across the graves in awe. He wished he had waited before calling the rest of the Guard through town.
Nisero stood a few paces behind. Belsh was back by the trail holding the reins of their horses.
Ari’s and Hallen’s graves were marked by stacks of stone. They were undisturbed, but he found himself wishing he had buried them deeper. It felt less than complete knowing their bones were so close to the surface. He was in no mind to dig them up again though.
The heads of their graves had been marked with bits of wood as he and Nisero finished the burials and went after Arianne’s captors—just the two of them. Upon the return journey with Captain Forseth and the rest of the Guard, they had taken their time to create proper headstones with the names rough cut into the stone. That is how he had left them and the ruins of Patron’s Hill.
He lifted his eyes from the graves of his wife and son to nearly a hundred more around them. Trees had been cut back. More markers bore names he recognized. Some indicated whole families buried together. More than a few identified the bodies as unknown.
There was an old cemetery more than a mile away on a different hill, but Berengar had buried his dead here. Others had come and done the same. From the growth of grass and weeds between and over the graves, Berengar surmised this had been done a while ago.
It must have been done shortly after the attack, otherwise it would have been difficult to identify the bodies and there would have been little left to bury. The new charter population would not have known the dead anyway. Distant family must have come through to bury their dead after Berengar passed through the l
ast time. They saw Berengar’s graves and they used the same spot for their memorials. Upon finishing, they left the town abandoned just as Berengar had.
“Why did the King give away my home without telling me?”
Nisero took a single step forward and stopped. He opened his mouth to reply but closed it again. The ways of Kings and the decisions they made was beyond him.
Berengar sighed and glanced back at Belsh holding the horses. He thought about burned homes all around the edges of the kingdom.
“I find this all unsettling,” Berengar said. “The population growth of the living and the dead are booming everywhere. We have more of both than we know what to do with. Kings and nobles do not always act carefully with people’s lives.”
“Too true,” Nisero said. “This is probably not my place to say, but I will anyway. Once it is out, it will be done and too late to take back. I like finding Patron’s Hill in this state of being rebuilt. I like that you laid claim to your former land again and the charter holders were so welcoming. I think it was good for everyone. We may not find out what happens with all of this until we see how this mission ends, but my heart is warmed by this circumstance of our journey so far.”
“I would hate for your heart to be unwarmed, Lieutenant. That is always one of my top concerns.”
“Of course, sir. Mine too.”
The forward line of the Elite Guard and their full company of support rode out of the western side of town and past the cemetery. Berengar did not face them, but he straightened his back and set his shoulders. The members of the company bowed their heads as they passed the Captain and the graves. The men gave salute, but Berengar was turned away from them. After a moment, Nisero took on the task of returning salute for the men.
The last of the light in a western sky shifted from pink to purple. Berengar watched the backs of the Elite Guard against the failing light, a solemn procession against the backdrop of the silent graves.
Berengar stepped up beside Nisero’s shoulder as the Lieutenant faced eastward casting salutes. Berengar spied the dark hair and profile of the young man who had been guarding the chamber of the King before Berengar left the capital. As the man passed, Berengar asked Nisero, “Do you remember Stoleck?”