Ren, Lillith and the red-headed apprentice converged on the wise woman at the same time, the first two having raced to the finish, not wanting to miss whatever had Lorenna rushing this way.
With an effort Leiren forced herself to stand there seemingly unshaken, looking at her expectantly.
Was this what she had been waiting for all day?
Lillith and Ren waited impatiently too, curiosity showing on their young, eager faces. Life in the settlement was usually fairly quiet, what could have prompted that race through the field? She must have been running hard, whatever it was, because in spite of her strong, fit body, Lorenna was out of breath.
¨You are needed, Leiren,¨ she said at last, and for some reason her blue-green eyes cut quickly towards Lillith. Then, when she saw the girl was looking at her, she looked straight at the Healer and said curtly, ¨There's an emergency at the South Wall. We must get there as soon as possible.¨
CHAPTER 2
COUNCIL
Serbell closed her eyes and let the warm water ease her tired muscles, taking the day's grime and sweat with it. This was one of the few luxuries the settlement had, hot running water. This was largely thanks to an old pipe installation, an old furnace which had somehow survived the wars, and Dinain's know-how.
She was in a hurry, but couldn't avoid enjoying the water a couple more minutes. ¨I'll make it up later, ¨ she said to herself. The Council had to be officially informed of the news, anyway, which would take a minute. Given the explosiveness of the information they were going to be faced with a hundred and one questions, and would have to figure out how to best answer them. Leiren would deal with that, of course, she always did.
Still, she really wanted to see how people would react to this.
Everyone had given Resnan up for dead, after all, which made her ask herself, what about the rest of that ill-fated group?
Were they alive, too?
Turning the water off, she reached for a towel, and dried off hurriedly, only pausing to check her upper thigh carefully. The scrape she had suffered from a fall two weeks ago had healed beautifully with that salve Leiren had given her, and now her warm honey colored skin was only marred by slight scarring the Healer said would fade with time. Not that she was very worried about her appearance, she had some pretty big scars in visible places, but it would have sucked if the wound had got infected.
What about Garand, Benton's brother, would he be coming back, too?
As usual, thinking about anything related to Benton made her heart beat faster, which she found frankly irritating.
As irritating as the man, himself.
She had never met anyone, male or female, capable of antagonizing her so. It seemed that every idea she had, he had some sort of objection to. She understood he was responsible for their security, but come on!...enlarging the perimeter by just two meters all around the South field wouldn't endanger them, and it would greatly increase productivity.
And, thought Serbell, she was responsible for that.
That was just their last bone of contention, but she sometimes felt like she was locked in some kind of territorial battle with the tall dark-haired man, and he definitely made her fight for every inch of ground.
The man was simply insufferable.
It didn't help that he was also extremely good looking, she mused, throwing on a pair of frayed jeans and a green tank top; not that he seemed to be aware of the effect his strong features and powerful physique had on the female population of the settlement.
And Oh, the stories! It seemed the adolescent Benton had been wild to a fault and there were certainly more than enough rumors about the years before the settlement to fuel the collective imagination. Which obviously would seem to include her, she thought with some exasperation, hastily running a comb through her long dark hair, since as if what had happened today wasn't momentous enough, here she was thinking about him like a moonstruck dolt, instead of running to hear what was said at Council. What an idiot she was.
She hesitated for a moment in front of her little array of throwing knives, and picked her favorite pair, tucking them into the leather strip below the waist band of her jeans. Dinain had made them for her, and they were beautifully balanced, a joy to work with. He was the only one who was aware she knew how to use them or even had any, and Serbell knew he would keep her secret. He had proved to be a good friend through the years, and she was happy to think his son was alive after all. It had been heartbreaking to watch that family disintegrating before their very eyes.
As she rushed out the door and headed towards the Square she reflected that Resnan would be in no condition to tell his story yet. From what she had been able to see from the time the scouts sounded the alarm as the boy had stumbled into the perimeter, he would need at least a couple of days rest, at the very least.
Luckily for him, and maybe surprisingly, she had recognized him almost immediately. A fifteen-year-old changes a lot in two years, she thought, and Resnan was no exception. However, once she saw past the two years of growth, a straggly beard, the sunburn, dehydration, exhaustion and, most importantly, the fact that he could still be alive, his identity was clear, and she was able to stop any harm from coming to the boy. The perimeter and the guards were there for a reason, as Benton was so fond of pointing out, and did not look kindly on unannounced visits. Though they had had a quiet couple of months, there was always somebody who didn't want to join the community but mistakenly thought they might be easy pickings.
Word had been sent to Benton with one of the scouts and Lorenna had interrupted her foraging and dashed off across the fields to get Leiren. She had to give that red-headed hussy credit: she could run….
…and there her thoughts went again, spiraling and spiraling around the same subject.
Lorenna might make it obvious that she claimed Benton as her prize, but that was up to him, surely…and so far, the silly oaf had shown no sign of having any inkling of the interest the Healer's apprentice had in him. Still, of all the conniving….
Stop, Serbell! She told herself, she’s got a right to try, and he's got a right to like her, if he so chooses.
But it was with a heavy heart that she rounded the corner of what was known as Bess the Shoe-maker's cottage and entered the appointed meeting place for important settlement business.
The Square, as it was known by all, lay roughly in the middle of the settlement. When the weather didn't permit its use, people gathered in one of the original dwellings they had found standing, known to them as the Hall. It was deemed too big for any one family to live in, but fifty or so settlers could gather in it comfortably enough. It had been here where the first families who started the settlement had sheltered, hungry, scared and exhausted, after days upon days of terrifying experiences and hardship, in the first months after the Conflagration.
The evening was lovely, however, so the Council chairs were set up in the open, and row upon row of people were sitting on the ground in a semicircle around them. As Serbell approached, she saw they were listening to the eldest Council member, Lars, explaining the news, and realized she was later than she had thought. She saw a couple of people already had their hands up in the air, so they must be open for questions already.
Settling down next to blue-eyed Stacy, in charge of supplying the settlers baking, and who smelled wonderfully of freshly baked scones, Serbell scanned the faces around her. Yeshra was absent, of course, as were her husband Dinain and their daughter Lillith, which was to be expected.
¨How many people took part in the expedition?” a sandy-haired man called Reyn was asking. He had not been one of those whose hand was waving in the air, but nobody seemed to take his question amiss. He was a relative new-comer, and so wouldn’t know the full story.
The settlement had grown in the last year and a half and many people weren't aware of exactly what had happened when it was founded, or the casualties it had entailed. It just wasn’t talked about…after all, everyone had lost loved ones and suffered traum
atic experiences during the Wars and the months that followed. Most of these people had simply been glad to find a safe haven where they could live in peace.
Serbell noticed Lars taking a quick look around as he prepared to answer, his brown eyes under the white bushy brows tight and uncomfortable. This would not be easy. Although Resnan’s family was not there, all the relatives of the other members of that unfortunate expedition were, as she had ascertained with a just a glance. She didn’t envy the Elder, his role or, in fact, the boy when he was able to answer questions.
Lars cleared his throat. ¨The group was composed of ten people. ¨ he answered, the strain evident in the old man's voice.
¨How many came back? ¨ someone called out from the back. Serbell thought it sounded like Meena, the pale, tall, almost albino looking girl who had arrived at the settlement with her three-year-old daughter in early spring. The only child in the community, so far, and spoiled to death by almost everyone. Probably Scandinavian in origin, not that that stuff mattered anymore. The woman had a blunt, to the point way of phrasing her words, which did not always sit well with those around her. It suited the present mood, however.
¨Only three people made it back, ¨ answered Lars. ¨We sent a search party, but the truth is we gave the rest up for dead after hearing the account of what happened. ¨ His voice was curt. Serbell understood, none of them enjoyed remembering those days. Or he may have been rattled by Meena's dry delivery, who knows.
¨But now, Lars, what do we do? What? ¨ It was Kelly, daughter of Milton, one of those who hadn't come back. She was sitting at the front and even from her vantage point Serbell could see the tears glistening on her cheeks.
What, indeed?
In spite of herself Serbell found she was scanning the crowd again, looking for Benton. This would be hard for him too. His brother Garand had been in charge of that expedition…. and, oh Lord… that poor nephew of his.
She spotted him then, his arm thrown protectively over Ren, Garand's son.
And by his side, with her hand on his shoulder, was Lorenna, of course.
Serbell felt her jaw clench, and forced herself to relax, chiding herself on for being petty. Not the time for this. she told herself, you’re going to have to take the higher road. What kind of woman are you to begrudge the man any comfort he might find ? The kind who is about to get lock-jaw, she thought ruefully.
A commanding voice snapped her back to attention. Leiren was now standing, drawing all eyes to her, as usual. ¨We will have to wait until Resnan is well enough to tell his story and take it from there. ¨
There was a low murmur of discontent among the settlers. People wanted to feel something was being done, now, especially those who had thought their friends and relatives dead for two years.
¨You are our healer, Leiren. How long will that take? ¨ asked Kelly.
Leiren's long thin braids swung as she shook her head impatiently.
¨His body might mend in a couple of days. There's not much wrong beside exhaustion, a sprained hip and ankle, and some minor cuts and bruises. Nothing some rest and nourishment won't take care of, once he wakes up. Whether he'll be able to answer your questions that quick is another matter. We don't know what he's been through, and until he speaks to us, we won't be able to tell what his mental state is. ¨
So, Resnan hadn't regained consciousness yet, or if he had, he hadn't said anything important. Once he did, thought Serbell, everything might change. What was out there? What had he seen? Any scrap of information on the world outside the settlement was invaluable. From what had been gleaned from the latest newcomers, it was still wild and unpredictable, changing day to day.
Details of the ill-fated expedition were being discussed now, but she stopped listening. She knew the story well enough. Of the three people to come back, only Dinain was still at the settlement. Morn had died from his wounds that same night, all of his energy used up in escaping. Dinain himself, driven half-crazy with guilt and grief over the loss of his fifteen-year-old son, had been mostly incoherent, and it was left to Harry, Garand's second in command, to recount how they had been ambushed at about three days distance from the settlement.
The fight had been fierce, there were five soldiers, ex-army men all, among them, but they had been outnumbered. Harry had witnessed impotently how his friends fell around him. The ambushers were not interested in taking prisoners, it seemed, and had concentrated on taking anything of value they could see.
Scavengers.
This was probably why they hadn't bothered to stop them when, between him and Morn, heavily injured as he was, they had dragged away an unconscious Dinain, and escaped in the jeep. The jeep itself would have held no interest for such men, since in today's world, where would you find petrol to run such an archaic machine?
The settlement was just lucky to have someone like Dinain, a wizard at making anything work, using anything and everything available for fuel.
A large group, led by Benton, had left the settlement and looked for any survivors, but to no avail. They had all believed, wrongly, that no one survived the attack. Morn was dead by morning, Dinain had seen nothing of those last moments and Harry himself was never the same, leaving the settlement six weeks later, not to be seen or heard from since.
But if Resnan had survived for two years, injured as he must have been, there had to be people out there. The other six members of the expedition, maybe, though if not dead they had been severely wounded, according to Harry.
Other communities, then. Somebody must have helped them. Helped the kid at least.
Or had he been roaming on his own all this time? That was hard to imagine, thought Serbell, but not impossible, she guessed. The stragglers that had trickled into the settlement of late had nothing but tales of woe and hardship, and some had come from far enough, been traveling long enough looking for refuge without coming across anything other than armed brigands and scattered families or travelers in similar or worse condition than them, but could a fifteen-year-old survive alone out there for two years?
She had to admit to herself that the possibility of there being other settlements out there, and maybe other ways of organizing the communities did quicken her interest. It seemed everybody, including herself, would have questions for the poor boy.
She noticed people getting up around her and realized the meeting had finished. For today, anyway. Serbell knew this was far from over…she started to get up and felt a hand under her elbow, steadying her as she rose to her feet.
Looking up she found herself staring straight into Benton's deep green eyes.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Damn the man! Why did he have to have this effect on her?
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You were late for Council. I was beginning to get worried.”
With an effort she dragged her eyes away from his green gaze, pretending to concentrate on wiping her hands clean of the dust from the ground on her faded jeans.
She hated having to look up at people. When confronting him she always had to remind herself that it wasn't so much that she was short, which she admittedly was, but that he was way taller than average. And what was wrong with her, anyway? She must have scrambled eggs for brains…even the sound of his voice was making her knees shaky today.
¨I stopped by the house to have a shower, ¨ she said, and then wanted to kick herself. She owed him no explanations. What was with the sudden interest in her whereabouts? Thinking of which, what about Lorenna, where had she disappeared to?
Quickly she changed the subject to something that did concern her. “How about you? How are you and Ren holding up?”
She looked at the boy standing next to Benton and was struck by how much he had grown since she had last seen him, what…a month ago? The physical similarity between Benton and him was more obvious every day, to the point where Ren actually resembled his uncle more than his father, Garand. Except for his eyes, decided Serbell.
While Benton's were a deep green, like a b
ottomless lagoon she was afraid of drowning in, Ren's were dark brown, almost black and, she noted, somehow secretive. Or maybe that was just the expression today's happenings had painted on his face, and who could blame him?
“Well, we have a lot of questions, of course.” answered Benton. “I'm happy for Dinain and Yeshra. I consider this something positive, don't you agree?”
“Definitely,” she nodded, “If Resnan, being only fifteen, survived, there should be hope for the rest of the group.” She paused, not wanting to be overly optimistic and encourage them too much, even though she was only stating the obvious.
“We won't know what happened until he can answer some questions, though.” she amended hurriedly, glancing at the boy.
Ren said nothing. He was staring at the ground, and his silence was almost like a visible aura around him. It had an ominous quality, she thought, as if it were the calm before a storm. Benton eyed him warily and seemed to come to a decision.
Turning towards Serbell, a half-smile on his full lips, he said, “It seems that might take a while, according to Leiren, so maybe we should keep our minds occupied with other things ‘til then. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
She stiffened, hoping her dark coloring would hide the blush she felt warming her cheeks. This she hadn't expected. Then, probably noticing her hesitation, he added, playfully, “We could even pick up on our perimeter discussion where we left off.”
Since they had “left off” yelling at each other, or at least Serbell had, she doubted that would help the mood much.
She was torn. On the one hand, a part of her would have liked nothing better than to spend more time with this attractive, intensely irritating man who somehow knew how to push all her buttons.
That was the Serbell who was a sucker for punishment, she decided.
Aftermath Page 2