The Child Guard

by Lorcan Montgomery

  “I don’t believe in ghosts,” Kane responded a little too quickly.

  “What matter if you did? It is said that Child Guard are under the protection of the twin gods. What is there that can harm you?”

  “Thank you, Professor,” Kane said, aiming for a tone of dismissal. Sophia bowed and retreated towards the fire Terrell was coaxing into life.

  She was right, of course. There were no such things as ghosts, the priests were crystal clear on the matter. When a person died their soul moved on to their next life, depending on how their previous one had been. If they had died valiantly, their next life would be in the Halls of the Brother, where only the bravest warriors went; if they had served piously all their lives but met their end quietly, they would find themselves in the Gardens of the Sister. The other options were hardly appealing; there were many hells available for all manner of sins or there was the gamble of rebirth into another life, to try and do better next time. Any talk of ghosts or raised spirits was a heresy in the eyes of the temple.

  He idly kicked at a loose stone which turned out to be a crude flint arrowhead, and quickly decided, ghosts or not, he was going to touch as little as possible in the old fortress so as not to risk disturbing something unpleasant. Best to let whatever bones were hiding beneath the clover stay at rest.

  Eder and Terrell set up the camp as though they’d been doing it their whole lives, and it wasn’t long before the fire was crackling away merrily, surrounded by four tents in a rough arc which followed the line of the standing wall. Sampson had rummaged around in their supplies and had managed to put together a rough stew of cured meat and vegetables, the smell of which made Kane’s stomach rumble as it bubbled away in the golden evening light.

  Cahaya had settled herself, assisted by Davena, into a tidy cross-legged position across the fire from Kane, her back straight and her hands folded in her lap. Kane thought she looked like the young novices from the nursery, when they sat attentively at the feet of a matron for story time. The look on her face, however, was quite removed from childish excitement; she looked thoughtful, almost sad, as her white eyes peered across the fire at him. He knew she could not see him, and was likely staring straight ahead out of habit, but the sensation was still oddly penetrating.

  It wasn’t long before the food was ready, and Sampson spooned it out of the pot into wooden bowls with a surprising amount of care, before filling a second, smaller pot with water and putting it on the fire. From the supply pack, he drew out a small, white silken bag, closed with a fine gold cord, and murmured a prayer as he opened it and sprinkled a carefully-judged quantity into the water. The pungent smell of the Elixir Innocentiae mingled with the aroma of food, and Kane felt his appetite wane with alarming rapidity.

  Sophia, who had not seated herself by the fire, bowed as Sampson presented her with a bowl of stew.

  “My thanks for the gift of food,” she said, “however, I will retire to my shelter. In Aurian culture one does not unveil oneself in the presence of those other than their kin, so I will take my meals alone. I trust this will not be an inconvenience.”

  “If these are your customs then it is right that you should keep them,” Sampson said, and Sophia retreated with another respectful bow.

  Kane was a little disappointed. He had hoped Sophia would talk some more over dinner about her current research or some interesting historical tidbits she had uncovered. He had never heard of the Pact of Oriya before, and Sampson’s reaction had illustrated it was for some reason not to be discussed. Kane had taken a quick dislike to the sulky Immaculatus, and if it would annoy Sampson to hear a discussion of the matter it instantly became a tempting prospect.

  Sampson served them all their food, starting with Cahaya, then Davena, Kane, Terrell, and finally Eder. The little boy almost threw the full bowl at Eder, making it slop over the side of the bowl and down onto his boots. As Sampson stalked back to his chosen spot, Eder sighed quietly but didn’t say anything.

  Kane ground his teeth together and glared accusingly at his food. Back in the Citadel, the Elixir Innocentiae was brewed away from the mess hall, and the smell only became evident when the cauldrons were wheeled in after the meal had been consumed. Every time he inhaled he could smell the combined scent of meat and sickly-sweet herbs, and his stomach revolved in protest.

  He glanced at his companions on either side. Eder was eating quietly and neatly, looking directly down at his bowl and not across the fire at Sampson. There was a slight embarrassed pinkness about his face which made Kane’s dislike for Sampson inch up higher. Terrell, unusually, was chasing chunks of meat about his bowl, in contrast to his usual practice of seemingly inhaling the whole thing in one go. He glanced up and met Kane’s eyes, pulling a sympathetic face.

  Eventually, Kane managed to force the stew down, sternly telling himself he needed it for his strength and it would be no good to have a Brother-Corporal of the Child Guard fainting with hunger and being unable to lead his squad. His stomach settled as he ate, and he began to relax, relieved the nauseous feeling had abated for now.

  It returned with a vengeance as Sampson drew from another silken bag five familiar consecrated wooden cups and filled them with the Elixir Innocentiae. He distributed them efficiently, as he had done in the Citadel, to all except Cahaya, who sat quietly, toying with something in her hands instead of holding a sacred chalice. She wrinkled her nose as Davena received her cup, and Kane looked away lest he draw attention to her disrespect of the sacred draught.

  It was all he could do to avoid pulling a similar face as he was handed his own steaming chalice, and he held it as far away from his face as he could without appearing odd.

  “Now we raise our cups to receive the blessings of the Twin Gods,” Sampson intoned in a voice that spoke of years of practice, having handed Eder his Elixir as an afterthought. “May the wisdom and power of the Brother, and the grace and strength of the Sister shine on you now, and always. We pray it be so.”

  “We pray it be so,” they chorused.

  Despite having done this for years, Kane almost couldn’t bring himself to down the concoction. His stomach felt like it was doing backflips, but he held his breath and raised the cup to his lips with an unwilling hand. He knocked it back as he had done many times before, but as the suspended leaves and spices hit the back of his throat, his gorge rose and it was only with all the discipline he could muster that he didn’t empty his stomach there and then, all over his lap. He put the cup down with care, and took a few steadying breaths of fresh air through his mouth until the feeling ebbed.

  Nobody else seemed to be having any problems with their stomachs. Sampson and Eder seemed to be competing as to who could mutter the fastest series of prayers, and Davena sat in silent contemplation with her empty chalice. Even Terrell had his eyes closed in what Kane assumed was reverence.

  After what seemed like an age, a sense of normality returned. Sampson carefully decanted the leftover Elixir into a small bottle, so he and Davena could take their extra doses the next day without slowing the pace of the party. Eder took the bowls, spoons and stew pot to the well, without so much as a word. With the light fading and the fire slowly burning down, tiredness settled on the group, and Davena rose to help Cahaya to the tent they would be sharing, Sophia having firmly insisted on solitude.

  Kane stood up and stretched, feeling the weariness that had settled around his legs. He meant to go and help Eder, but he had only got partway round the fire when Cahaya, unsteady on the uneven ground, stumbled and dropped whatever it was she had been toying with. Kane leaned in and caught it before it hit the floor.

  As his hand closed around it, he felt the oddest sensation of déjà vu. The curves and points of the polished wood felt like something he had held before, even though he’d never had a trinket or token in his life. He opened his hand, and looked down at it. It was a long-necked wooden bird with a beautifully detailed crest around its neck and head, sitting on a set of stylised waves, strung onto a thin brown cord
that was strangely stiff in places. The whole thing was in a deep red wood, polished both by its maker and by constant handling.

  “It’s a lovely piece,” Kane said as he placed the pendant carefully in Cahaya’s palm. “Wouldn’t want to lose it.”

  Cahaya shook her head vigorously, dislodging another ringlet from within her wimple. She paused for a moment, thinking, before dropping into a neat curtsey.

  “Oh, you don’t need to-“ he began, but Davena shushed him.

  “I think she wants to say thank you,” she said. “But with her not having a voice she’s having to improvise.”

  Cahaya nodded in Davena’s direction and smiled.

  “You’re welcome,” Kane said. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite think what it was, only that it was something to do with the little carved bird. “That token, where did you get it from?”

  The smile vanished from Cahaya’s face like morning mist, and he saw tears spring into her blank eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, was that a bad question? I didn’t mean to upset you,” Kane said, but Davena had whisked Cahaya away before he had had a chance to finish.

  He was left standing by the fire, his brain itching like it was covered with ants, and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach compounded by the fact he had made the blind, mute girl under his protection cry with a clumsy question. It wasn’t like he had really needed to know who had given it to her or under what circumstances, he had been nosy for the sake of being nosy and it had upset her. No wonder he had so few friends if his people skills were that poor.

  Distractedly, he helped Eder stow the cooking gear away in the packs and made sure the pony was tethered securely. He assigned first watch to Terrell and second to himself, then settled down in the tent he and Eder were to share, with an uneasy head and an even uneasier stomach.

  After about half an hour of trying to get comfortable and feeling his guts complain every time he rolled over, he was thoroughly and utterly miserable. Eder had fallen asleep instantly, and was snoring quietly in his blankets, blissfully unaware of Kane’s plight.

  Kane sighed. If he was going to be awake then he might as well take an extra watch and let Terrell get some bonus rest. He crawled out of the tent, careful not to wake Eder, and took a moment to collect himself before rising to his feet.

  Standing up turned out to be a dire mistake, as his stomach convulsed and he found himself pitching forwards and throwing up everything he had consumed that evening at the foot of the wall. The Elixir didn’t taste any better on the way out.

  He felt someone approach and froze, expecting Sampson to denounce him as a heretic. To reject the Elixir, even involuntarily, meant there was some evil inside which rejected the gods. In the Citadel, that would mean a course of cleansing and a lot of back-and-forth between the Halls of Healing and the Temple. Out here, he had no idea what would be done, but from what little he knew of Sampson, it would likely be unpleasant.

  Thankfully, it was only Terrell.

  “Anything left in there?” he muttered, leaning down to Kane’s level.

  Kane spat the foul taste out of his mouth, took a deep breath, and shook his head.

  “That’ll help,” Terrell said. There was a moment’s hesitation, before he took Kane’s arm and manoeuvred him over to one of the piles of fallen rubble, settling him down on as flat a block as could be found. His hands were fever-hot, even through Kane’s surcoat and undershirt. He sat back on his heels once Kane was settled, and regarded him. Kane could see the concern in Terrell’s eyes, even in the darkness, and looked away. He had always had good night vision, it had won him a commendation once when he had spotted an opposing team’s scout in the darkness on a training exercise, but right now he didn’t want to see Terrell hovering over him like an anxious nursemaid.

  “You won’t tell Sampson, will you?” Kane said, as soon as he felt he could trust himself to open his mouth and not retch.

  “Tell Sampson you puked? Is he a nurse now?” Terrell’s face broadened into a grin.

  “You know what I mean,” Kane said, giving him a withering look. “I just had a bad night, I don’t need a cleansing or a penance.”

  “I won’t tell on you if you don’t tell on me, deal?”

  Kane looked questioningly up at Terrell, who shrugged.

  “I’ve chucked it up loads of times, it’s surprising it doesn’t happen more often with that noxious stewed pondweed,” Terrell said, chuckling at the scandalised look on Kane’s face. “Don’t look at me like I just shat on the altar, I know it’s not your drink of choice either. I already told you I’m not going to go snitching to Sampson, you can relax.”

  He punched Kane on the upper arm, lightly; or at least lightly by Terrell’s standards, which still left Kane with a dead arm.

  “I can normally just hold my breath and down it,” Kane said, gulping at the memory. “But having it steaming away at the same time as the food, it makes everything else taste off.”

  “Maybe that’s Sampson’s plan, he’s getting us ready for when all our supplies have gone mouldy and we have to eat them anyway.”

  Kane pulled a face. “The sad thing is, he’s not a bad cook.”

  “I knew we’d find a use for him. I mean, I thought he’d be in the pot, but-“ Terrell trailed off with another characteristic shrug.

  “Wouldn’t get much eating off him,” Kane laughed, and stood. “I feel much better now, thanks Terrell. Do you want me to take the rest of your watch since I’m up already?”

  “Nah, you go and get some sleep,” Terrell waved him away. “I’ve got a couple more hours in me yet.”

  Kane fell straight to sleep as soon as his head hit the rolled-up pack that served as his pillow.

  7. A Confession

  “Into the Gardens of the Sister shall the righteous woman be welcomed. She who stands strong through trials, who is meek at the feet of her husband but kindly at the head of her children. Those men, too, who give of themselves quietly and humbly, they shall receive their eternal rest amongst the Sister’s bounty and grace.”

  The Book of the Twin Gods

  Eder woke the camp at dawn the next morning. Kane had sat an uneventful watch after Terrell gave in, at about midnight by his reckoning, and had handed off to Eder as the sky paled to grey. They ate a brief repast of yesterday’s bread and hard cheese, struck camp without further delay and set off on the southward road again.

  The morning air was pleasantly cool, although Kane could tell it was gearing up to be another sticky, oppressive day come noon. They set off at a fairly vigorous pace, aiming to eat up the miles before the heat wound around their limbs and sapped their strength and speed.

  Terrell and Kane had said nothing to each other about the incident the night before, and although Kane had half-expected a knowing glance from Terrell in the morning he got nothing of the sort. Terrell was loud and blustering as usual, with no hint of knowing a secret or contemplating gossip. Kane was pleased at how well he had picked his friends, as there would have been many in the Citadel who would have happily turned in someone suspected of heresy, if only for the prestige.

  This morning, the people in the houses by the road seemed slightly friendlier, although only by a matter of degrees. There were still no children in the lane, but the women who were working in gardens and tending to their houses did not immediately flee indoors, and several of the men in the fields tipped their hats and bid the party good morning, particularly Miss Cahaya, perched atop her pony. Several of the younger lads stopped work altogether and at least one was smacked on the back of the head by his father as they passed.

  “Why do you suppose they’re all staring at Cahaya?” Kane asked Eder, after several such incidents had occurred.

  “Maybe they’ve never seen a girl riding a horse before,” Eder said, after considering for a long moment. “Or maybe it’s because of her eyes.”

  “Or maybe,” Sophia interjected from nearby, a mischievous tone to her voice, “they
’re staring at her for the same reason boys usually stare at a girl.”

  Kane looked at her blankly, but any further explanation was cut off by a sudden, inexplicable coughing fit from Sampson.

  Later that day, he found himself walking beside Sophia again, at the head of the party. Sampson and Davena, wilting in the heat, were stumbling behind on their short legs, but Sophia seemed completely unaffected – a product, Kane supposed, of her life in Auris. She marched as though she were their leader setting the marching pace for their journey. Even the three trained soldiers were having difficulty keeping up with her.

  “Do you have students, Professor Sophia?” Kane asked, surprising himself with his boldness, “I mean, back where you come from, do you teach or do you just do research on your own?”

  “I do teach,” Sophia admitted, “sometimes, in between my solitary projects.”

  “Have you taught a lot of students?”

  “That rather depends on what you define as a lot.”

  “Do you teach classes?”

  Sophia actually laughed, a bright bark of a sound which made the tips of Kane’s ears tingle. “The things I have to teach do not lend themselves to lecture halls or classrooms. I take on students the way a master takes on apprentices, only a few at a time, sometimes only one or two. It is a more... intimate way of learning than in your Citadel, where I understand you are taught in large classes by rote.”

  “It works for what we have to learn,” Eder approached from Kane’s other side, his tone decidedly defensive. “Otherwise it wouldn’t have been done that way for hundreds of years.”

  “Is that your view then, Master Eder, that the ways of your fathers and your grandfathers should be honoured precisely, unchanging and rigid?”

  “That is the way of the Citadel,” Eder replied, stiffly. "And my rank is Private, not Master."

  “Neither fact is an answer to the question I asked." Kane could see Sophia's eyes crease in an amused smile.