by D A Godwin
“Sister Shalindra, I expected you would retire to bed,” Kayala said.
“I was not sure where to go, and…” Her gesture encompassed the entire room, now filled with three times as many men as before.
“You must be tired after today’s… events,” Kayala said, not unkindly. “You have done all that you must.”
“But there are so many.”
A sorrowful expression came across Kayala’s face. “And there will be many more. Marie and Tish seek those in the field that we may aid, but we will never save them all.”
Shalindra put a hand to her symbol, feeling the warmth there. She wanted to lay down somewhere quiet, to escape the horrible aftermath of the battle and put order to the chaos in her mind. But this needed to be done. Everyone was tired. They had been doing this for days, perhaps weeks. How could she ask less of herself?
Eluria, give me the strength.
Shalindra knelt by the man and placed one hand on the bloody stump of his arm. She held his fevered gaze, whispering her prayer. The soldier twitched, then let out a long sigh as he lay back, smiling weakly up at her. She tried to return the smile, but her exhaustion descended like a great weight upon her shoulders.
She forced herself to her feet. The effort left her head spinning, and she reached to steady herself. Someone took her arm, and she thought for a moment that Tormjere had returned, but instead found her arm firmly in Enna’s grasp.
Blue eyes met green.
Enna could see just how heavy a toll the day had taken. Shalindra seemed filled with a weary acceptance, as if she knew how much what she was doing would cost her, in the same way she knew it must be done.
Shalindra gave her hand a small squeeze of thanks as she moved unsteadily to the next patient. Enna kept her on her feet, but could feel the surprise around the room. They had all witnessed Shalindra heal countless times today, far more than most could manage in the best of circumstances. More, she had fought and conquered a demon. It was unheard of. The whispers of the other clerics carried to Enna’s ears.
“…isn’t even looking at the wounds…”
“…more than is possible…”
“…could be the prophecy?”
Kayala spoke sharply, shooing the other women into action. “Is there no work to be done? We must all do as we are able.”
Enna didn’t look up, but the implications of that final whispered word left a hollow pit in her stomach.
* * *
Tormjere was allowed into Edward’s tent with a respectful nod from the guard outside and found the commanders crowded around the table, most of them still in their armor. Argus he recognized, and there was another man with the look of a Ranger who was undoubtedly Aric, but other than those he knew few of their faces and none of their names. Every one of them was likely a lord or son of a lord, but that wasn’t as intimidating this time.
“Good, you’re here,” Edward said. “This is Tormjere, one of our Rangers, newly arrived from the west. I would have you relay to everyone what you told me this morning, including the goblin attacks.”
Tormjere quickly repeated what he had learned while crossing the kingdom, though he left off any mention of Shalindra. As he spoke, Argus took pen and ink and made markings on the map.
“Goblins struck Jonrin?” a large man with a deep scar running along his left jaw asked. “What happened to the town?”
“Captain Gerondel?” Tormjere guessed.
The man nodded.
“The gates were all open, but once inside the wall, they faced resistance. Lord Halthon…” He felt a sudden wave of exhaustion sweep over him, but quickly realized it wasn’t his. He took a deep breath.
You need to rest.
If you could see the damage done to these men, you would not tell me that.
Remember what Kayala said about errors when you’re tired.
I will be fine. And they are waiting on you.
Tormjere blinked and became aware that everyone was staring at him. “My apologies. Squire Browlan was organizing the efforts to free the town. Lord Halthon and his family were safe.”
“Lord Deurmark told us you think this was tied to the Ceringion attack?” Argus asked. “Why?”
“The timing could have been purely luck, but we found indications that Halfhand’s and Fourfang’s tribes might have been working together, and possibly with someone who had knowledge of the towns along the border.”
Aric was studying him with a piercing gaze. “And you came all the way here to tell us?”
Tormjere glanced at Edward.
“The message he delivered was meant for Duke Brouchard,” Edward said, “but I am not free to share it with you all. For now, we must act on what has been provided to us.”
“What would you have us do?” asked one of the knights. “We are sorely outnumbered.”
“I agree it matters little for the now,” Argus said, “but if it allows them to reinforce here…”
As the men clustered around the map table, Edward caught Tormjere’s eye and motioned towards the exit with his head.
Tormjere understood the dismissal. With a nod to Aric, he turned and left the tent.
* * *
Shalindra sat alone in a corner of the barn and allowed her eyes to close. The flow of wounded had finally slowed, but she could not begin to guess how many men she had treated, nor how many she had healed through Eluria’s care. She had never felt so drained in her life. It was a tiredness that seeped into her bones, leaving her arms and legs weak.
“Shalindra.” A gentle hand on her shoulder roused her. She opened her eyes, unsure if she had been asleep, and saw Kayala looking down at her in concern. “If you would walk with me.”
Shalindra pulled herself to her feet and followed Kayala out of the building.
The night was clear but for a few thin clouds, each one edged by the moon’s brightness. She took a deep breath, drawing strength from its light. She hadn’t realized so much time had passed.
Tormjere was wrapped in his cloak beside one of the many fires sprinkled throughout the darkened camp, but his eyes following her as she walked.
You should have slept.
I wasn’t tired for some reason. You, on the other hand…
He watched her with concern but did not move to follow.
Kayala led her back to the building where she had cleaned herself… was it really just that same morning? It was such a short distance, but it felt like a mile.
“How are you feeling?” Kayala asked once they were inside.
“Tired,” Shalindra answered, “but well, thank you.”
“When was the last time you slept?”
“Two, three days?” She honestly couldn’t remember.
“When we are tired, we make mistakes. Mistakes can cost lives. Always, we must be cautious to repair that which is damaged, not that which is already whole.”
“Sometimes, it can be so difficult,” she agreed. “Those in the most pain often thrash about and are harder to see.”
“Your technique is… unorthodox, but you possess Her gift for restorations.” Kayala looked at her curiously. “Particularly when it comes to your companion, and even while not in physical contact. Why?”
Shalindra looked away. “It is… different with him.”
Kayala’s eyes narrowed. “How can it be different? We ask, and Eluria gives or does not.”
“I can feel his pain and his…” she flushed red “…his body in ways that I cannot with other men, as if it was my own.” She spread her arms helplessly, at a loss for how to describe the situation. “So much has happened that I do not understand.”
“You speak of the power you used to fell the demon? By Eluria’s light, where did you learn that?”
Shalindra shrugged again. “I do not know. In truth, I am not even certain what I asked our Mistress for.”
A troubled look came to Kayala’s face. “We are not wizards, who manifest power from the world around us. As followers of Eluria we must ask for He
r strength, and rejoice in what She may give. Care must always be taken to ask of Her only what is needed, and no more. Woe befalls any who presume to demand too much of our goddess.”
“But it was proper, and helpful,” Shalindra protested. Her head hurt so much now. She just wanted to lay down.
“Yet it has taken a toll on you, and you remain unsure of how you accomplished it. Perhaps it would be best for you to remain here during the fighting, until you have gained more understanding of these things.”
Color came to Shalindra’s face. “I will not stand by and watch those that I care for be slaughtered like helpless animals.”
“We of Eluria are healers, not warriors,” Kayala scolded, more sharply that she intended. “We repair the damage done, we do not seek to inflict it.”
“I cannot heal dead people!” Shalindra practically shouted, a touch of bitterness in her voice.
“The dead are beyond even the power of our goddess,” Kayala said gently, though she appeared unsettled by the implications of Shalindra’s statement. “I have been in our Mistress’s service for longer than you have been alive. Despite all my knowledge, all my devotion, I would not be able to do what you have done today.”
She stepped forward and placed a hand on Shalindra’s arm. “You must be cautious. You must seek guidance from our Mistress, and listen to what She will teach. Power without compassion and restraint, no matter how justly delivered, is dangerous.”
Shalindra knew there was truth to her words. “I fear I am not at my best now, but I thank you for your council.”
Kayala looked almost relieved. “Your abilities outweigh your knowledge of Her teachings, and I would be pleased to offer you what guidance I may.”
“Thank you, Sister, that is most generous.”
“We shall speak more later. For now, you must rest.” She indicated an open doorway behind her. “Take any bed that’s unoccupied and sleep well. I fear that we will continue to be busy in the days to come.”
A part of her was thrilled at the thought of sleeping in a bed, but at this point she could have curled up on the floor without care. She paused at the doorway, however, because she had to tell someone.
“You misunderstand me in one matter, Sister. I did not join the battle for love or honor. I did not kill for glory or trophies. I have done none of these things because I enjoy them.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, and her hand drifted across the symbol of Eluria that hung from her neck. “I do them because She asks me to.”
Shalindra turned from the room, no longer unsettled by her own confusion, but by the barely concealed look of terror on Kayala’s face.
Conflicting Intent
Edward stood on the hill from which he had commanded the army for… what? Seven days now? They all ran together. The morning sun was rising behind him, casting light on the Ceringion camp just a mile away.
His eyes drifted over the stain on the earth where the demon had died, killed with divine magic by Kataria of all people. How she had come by such power was beyond him. And her companion. The small Ranger who fought with the strength and skill of someone far more experienced. It was easy to see why she had chosen him. Had he not seen them vanquish the creature with his own eyes he would never have believed it.
The heavy tread of footsteps approaching pulled him out of his musings.
“A fine morning for watching the sun rise,” Argus said as he joined Edward at the top of the hill. “Are they still waiting?”
“It appears so, though I have no idea why.”
Argus turned his gaze to where the defensive ditch was being expanded. “I’ll not complain. Every day they wait give us more time to prepare.”
Edward rubbed his temples, “Should we have abandoned this place and moved north instead of staying here?”
“The last message we got said to hold this position.”
“True, but you didn’t answer the question.”
Argus sighed. “Probably. The forest’s thick enough to hold our flanks, but if they decide to rush us again it may not matter.”
“Stand down half our forces but rotate them slowly,” Edward said. “Call the commanders to my tent.”
Argus left to gather the commanders, and in short order they were assembled in Edward’s tent. Once there, they wasted little time in making their opinions known.
“Much longer and they’ll grind us into nothing,” Kelsto said, plopping heavily into a chair. His comment was no surprise, as he had lost fully two-thirds of those under his command.
“A withdrawal begins to seem a more prudent choice,” Gerondel added.
“We were told to hold them here as long as possible,” Edward countered. “If we leave, their rear will be uncontested, and they’ll be free to descend upon Halisford.”
“Still no word from Merallin?” That from Ferrell, who seemed to ask the same question every day.
Edward shook his head. “None. Nor from Halisford, Tiridon, or anywhere else. The last bird Lord Brouchard received was from Halisford over two weeks ago, stating that they saw no sign of the enemy and instructing us to hold this position as long as possible. What of our scouts?”
Aric looked grim. “We have only three Rangers left, my lord. We’ve sent twice that number out but have yet to hear back from any. I could do more with more men.”
Edward caught the implied reference to Tormjere but sidestepped the issue. “It’s clear they’re taking special care to keep us here and keep us blind.”
“Only a fool does what the enemy wants him to do,” Gerondel said.
“While I do not consider myself a fool, what we need to do and what they want us to do are in alignment, for now. Return to your men and keep a careful eye for treachery.”
There was grumbling, but the men filed from the tent to do as ordered. Edward motioned for Argus to remain.
“Do you consider me a fool?”
“I’ve considered you a fool for many years now, my lord,” Argus replied with a laugh.
“One of these days, I shall have to hang you for your insolence, but today I’m too tired.”
Argus flexed his beefy forearm. “And I’ll thump you right good when you try. Do not worry about them. We aren’t winning right now, and that makes for unhappy soldiers.”
“So, we’re losing, then.”
Argus grew serious. “Slowly, but yes. We should start making plans for where we’ll go next.”
Edward stared dejectedly at the map but didn’t disagree. “I feel a need to stretch my legs. Let us check in on Master Ascerlon.”
* * *
Shalindra looked up, surprised to see Edward enter the barn. Most of the clerics paid him little attention beyond simple courtesy, but Ascerlon scurried over to him and bowed. “My lord, it’s good to see you here.”
“Duty has kept me away,” Edward replied. His eyes fell on Shalindra. “But I should visit more often.”
“Those here would enjoy that,” Ascerlon said. “Every man likes to know that his sacrifice is appreciated.”
The mediturgeon followed Edward as he stepped further into the room. “If I may, my lord, how much longer will we remain here?”
Shalindra listened as she cut strips of cloth into bandages, certain that Edward’s words were meant for her ears as much as Ascerlon’s.
“That is difficult to predict.”
“Of course, my lord. If I could have more notice than last time, I might be able to prepare properly.”
“I will see that you are informed as soon as possible when the need arises,” Edward said. “For now, we remain, but you should be ready to leave on short notice.”
We are going to move soon, but why?
He knows we’re losing.
Shalindra’s hands stopped their task.
You know as well. If we stay here much longer the Ceringions will grind us to nothing.
I believe that you are correct, but I also believe that we are not yet done with this place.
She could feel his skepticism, but if h
e had any opinions he did not share them. He was probably correct. From what little of the camp she had seen, the boost in morale from the death of the demon had already been replaced by the fatalism of fighting a losing battle. There was little she could do but pray that Edward made the correct decision.
The respite was ended the next day by the pounding drums of the Ceringion army as it organized into companies.
The Kingdom forces had taken their places along the strengthened fortifications, as Edward sat astride his horse on the hill he had used during the previous battle. Apart from Kayala and the clerics taking station at the base of that same hill, it was surreally similar to the previous battle. Edward had at least stationed a squad of the Legion in front of them this time.
Shalindra moved forward so she could see over the hill. Kayala said nothing, but her tight-lipped expression made her opinion of that decision clear.
She seems more worried for you today.
We are all under her care, and so her concern is proper.
He seemed almost distrustful of her motives, but she was not certain what had changed to make it so. Looking at the Ceringion army as it advanced, she prayed that they would all remain unharmed at the end of the day.
Her eyes met Tormjere’s.
I will keep you safe.
Someone had to. He didn’t entirely trust the Legion, but it meant he could focus more on Shalindra. They were close enough to Edward now to overhear his conversation.
“What’s with the gap down their center?” Argus asked.
Edward looked just as perplexed. “It’s an odd formation, to be sure.”
The Ceringion army was arrayed in five regimented squares, each containing hundreds of men. Rather than being evenly spaced across its length, the two on the right had shifted apart from the others, leaving a wide, empty channel running straight through the entire formation.
Tormjere felt a throbbing burn across his neck, even before they saw something massive crawl from behind a copse of trees. Edward shouted orders to shift troops around, but the defenders could do little but watch with growing fear as the demon scurried through the channel in the Ceringion ranks.
As wide as a wagon and tall as a horse, its back was armored by a slick, blackened carapace of overlapping plates edged with oranges and yellows. Six stout, yellowed legs propelled it forward. It lacked arms, and its massive head tapered to a sharply beaked point like a plow.