The Fire and the Fog (28 page)

‘So you have no idea why magic happens?’

‘Well…’ Dan’r said, rubbing his head again as
Gel smirked.

‘Doesn’t matter, boy,’ Dan’r said, grinning
as he did so Gel would know he meant no offense. ‘Best stop firing
those arrows around though. We should be getting close to Ehyet.
Wouldn’t want to skewer some unfortunate farmer.’

‘You just don’t want to make me anymore’ Gel
shrugged mockingly, and put away his bow while looking for the last
arrow he’d fired, his spirit somewhat dampened. He wasn’t sure he
wanted to see anyone else. Dan’r was one thing, at least he was
now, but…how would he deal with a village going about its business,
everyone alive, and happy.

The day suddenly didn’t seem nearly as
beautiful as it once had.

***

The constant jostling and steady squeak of
the wagon, the heat of the sun beating down, the birds and small
wildlife that darted through the tall grass on either side of the
road, all the sounds that made up the day, they all disappeared
when Erris started to read. They were still there, somewhere, and
maybe in the very back of her mind she knew she was hearing
something, knew she was sitting on a wagon, rolling slowly down a
lonely dirt road, lost, and going who knew where. But in the
foreground, all she knew was that she had a book to read.

It had always been that way. Even at home,
before…before everything…she would disappear, would hide somewhere
reading, without noticing her parents or siblings calling her, or
the time of the day, or the weather. She wouldn’t notice until she
fell asleep reading, or until someone came and wrestled whatever
world she had dived into from her hands.

And that happened with dry historical
treatises, religious texts, and childish fantasies alike. Every
book she cracked back the spine on, every word of every line she
read, they were new worlds, worlds where the flora, the fauna, the
earth and the sky, where everything was carved in the black and
white majesty of the printed word.

Now, for example, now she was reading
something truly interesting. She had never encountered a book like
it before, and the small, distant part of her that noticed things
like time and birds and hunger and thirst, that tiny part felt a
small pang of disappointment that the old man had kept it from her
for so long. It was a small book, one of the too-tiny collection
the old man had given her, had told her to keep hidden.

The book was not a story, or a historical
account, or a religious or educational treatise; it was not normal.
It was a group of essays, with thoughts and opinions laid out right
on the page, rather than hidden behind allegory and innuendo.

The first of the essays she read through did
have a religious spin on it. It talked of the shift in power in the
church, the steady rise of the military arm of Ragn, and the
downsides that came with it. More military meant more soldiers,
which meant fewer youths learning trades or helping on farms, more
weapons meant less funding for communities, less money going to
rural churches. It didn’t go quite as far as saying the church was
a problem, but it suggested it strongly.

The essay also noted how, as the Churches
military increased, so too did its more aggressive policies; the
war against Riin to the south, against Heyle to the north…even the
alternating, manipulative supports of Dhome and Dheme, forcing them
to fight against each other more and more frequently.

As boring as the subject seemed, Erris had
never read anything like it. Directly criticizing the Church? If
you criticized the church, you criticized Ragn, as the church was
his arm on earth. Wasn’t it? Wasn’t it blasphemy?

But if it was, why couldn’t she stop
reading?

Still, the essay had brought up good points.
Erris found herself turning the pages quickly, wondering with each
turn what new ideas might be set free.

As it was, Erris barely noticed when the
sound from Marmot’s hooves changed from the soft clod of horseshoe
on dirt, to the sharp, staccato ring of metal on stone.

It wasn’t until a voice somewhere in front of
her yelled ‘Halt!’, that she even realized her surroundings had
changed. Looking up, she saw the entrance to a small village; tall,
narrow houses with smokestacks, ringed by a low wall, the road
through barricaded with boxes and barrels and other objects,
guarded by two men in uniform.

The men wore red church uniforms, and had
long rifles slung over their shoulders, swords belted at their
hips. One of them was climbing over the barricade in the road,
while the other pointed at her and yelled.

‘Halt! Stop! Stop or we’ll be forced to
shoot!’

Erris froze.

II

The town ahead of them was small, judging by
the rooftops that were visible. Maybe…maybe fifty houses, Gel
thought; smaller than home had been anyway, before it burnt to the
ground. Still, it looked much the same. Just outside of the town,
the dirt road he and Dan’r had been walking along had changed to
large cobblestones, worn and rounded from decades of travelers
walking over them. They had left the road then, where it turned to
cobblestone, and had headed for the town through the rolling grass
hills that surrounded it, the rooftops slowly rising out of the
distance, forming houses.

The houses too reminded Gel of home; tall,
narrow houses, with narrow windows and steep, tiled roofs; silent
smokestacks all in a line on either side of the road. Around the
city was a low, four foot wall made of stacked stones. It wouldn’t
stop runaway sheep, much less raiders on horseback, but it was
still there. Gel supposed the town was far enough away from any
border to feel the need for a real wall.

‘It looks like home’ Gel said as they reached
the wall to the north of the town. Dan’r ducked low behind it, and
Gel followed suit.

‘Why are we hiding?” Gel asked, just as Dan’r
motioned for Gel to get down, put two fingers to his lips for
quiet.

‘Stay here, I’m going to look around’ Dan’r
said quietly, then he jumped the low wall, and disappeared amongst
the houses.

Gel turned and sat with his back against the
cool wall, instantly frustrated at being left behind.

***

Dan’r had vague memories of passing by the
town earlier; vague, drunken memories of barricades, and villagers
threatening him, turning him away. The memories were hazy, seen
through a mist of exhaustion and alcohol that took an unseemly
amount of concentration to overcome, but they were still there. It
was like trying to make out objects in a pitch black room. With
enough concentration and effort, you’d eventually see outlines. But
it would take a while.

‘Stay here, I’m going to look around’ Dan’r
said quietly to Gel as he slipped over the low wall and into the
village. He had avoided the road near the village on purpose; it
wouldn’t do to be threatened at gunpoint again.

The village had one main road to the south,
branching into two smaller roads to the North, each surrounded by
houses on both sides. Alleyways cut in between the houses by the
roads, leading to larger houses near the outskirts of the town. The
village would have started as a rest stop along the road, maybe a
single inn. It had grown over the years, and as it grew, as more
houses were added along the outskirts, the alleys grew as well,
dark and twisted.

The village was still small enough that most
of the houses had little gardens in front of them; small enough
that the alleyways were clean of the filth and detritus that so
litter the side streets and by-ways of larger cities, and it was
along one of these alleys that Dan’r now slunk, occasionally
looking through windows of houses on the way.

The alley in which he found himself was
clean, yes, but it was also empty., as were the houses. Empty of
people at least. Looking through one set of large, glazed windows,
he saw a dinner table, its places all set, as if waiting.

The problem was the silence. Normally in a
village, even one so small, there would be noise at all times of
the day. A cart trundling through, housewives gossiping in front of
their homes, children running through the streets, something. Here
though, the sun was high in the sky, and the village was
silent.

Mostly silent, anyway.

The one bit of noise he could hear came from
what must be the center of the town, and it was in that direction
that he gravitated. He moved slowly, crouched, one of his arms and
most of his back against the left wall of the alley.

Even moving slow, and crouched, it only took
him a few minutes to reach the alleyway entrance, to look
cautiously out into the sun basked circle beyond.

***

Gel was bored.

He’d been sitting there a good five…maybe
ten, maybe even twenty minutes. He wasn’t sure anymore. All he knew
was he’d been sitting there entirely too long. The wall behind him
wasn’t even cool anymore.

He put both his hands on the wall , and
pushed himself up to a crouch, and turned. Looking over the low
wall and into the village beyond, Gel could see…well, nothing. No
Dan’r, no other people, nothing but houses.

Gel smiled, then jumped at the wall, putting
his left hand on top of it then rolling himself over, landing
crouched, one knee bent and one straight, with his left hand on the
ground and his right steadying his quiver of arrows, just like he
imagined a hunter or hero might.

‘I look cool’ Gel thought to himself as he
set off to the right, following the wall. He’d skirt around, avoid
the direction Dan’r went, take a look at the village, and then get
back before Dan’r noticed him gone. It was a perfect plan.

Gel moved quickly and relatively quietly from
house to house until he reached the entrance to the north west of
the town, a torn-down barricade leaving the road open, then
followed the road in, moving quickly in the shadows from house to
house along the road as he went.

As soon as he reached the road, he saw that
there was a commotion ahead; a wagon in the road, someone standing
atop it, and a dozen or so red uniformed Church soldiers.

Gel moved closer ‘till he could make out what
was being said.

***

They had dragged her and the wagon into the
town, taken the blanket from her, and now Erris sat, watching as
the soldiers milled around her, laughing and nudging each other;
watching as one red-faced sergeant grew more and more angry as he
tried to hold himself back from yelling.

‘Tell me again, where did you get the wagon?’
the sergeant said, grinding his teeth and flexing his hands at his
sides, his frustration rising.

‘It’s my family’s’ Erris said, again. She’d
made excuses at the gate, before being brought in. The soldiers at
the gate had taken her to the Sergeant, who was turning redder by
the second, and he had sent for a Legnar, who had yet to show
up.

‘And where are they?’

‘Gone’ Erris replied, stomping quickly down
on memories that tried to well up out of the dark recesses of her
mind.

‘Gone where?’ the Sergeant asked, breathing
deeply in an effort to vent his frustration.

Erris stayed silent.

‘And where did you get the books?’ he asked,
kicking the bag the soldiers had taken from her, ‘and the sword?’
The bag and the sword lay on the ground where the sergeant had
dropped them as he began his interrogation.

Erris stayed silent.

‘Look, kid, if you don’t start giving me some
answers soon, I’ll have to arrest you,’ the Sergeant said, eager to
get on with more important tasks, ‘I’ve got more important things
to do. I’ve got towns to evacuate, and people left to save, and I’m
not going to let one brat delay me. Either tell me where all this
came from, where you came from, or I’ll have you declared a rebel,
and get you carted off to the stocks.’

Erris was looking at her feet. They were bare
still; she was still in her shift. It should have embarrassed her;
the sergeant’s angry words and his threats should have frightened
her, but she didn’t really care. Instead, she found herself
wondering…’if they arrest me…will they feed me? Give me clothes, or
a bath? Maybe it would be better that way…’

She was still looking at her feet, her head
tilted to one side, when the Sergeant’s tone changed
completely.

‘Ah, Legnar, she hasn’t said anything more
yet. I think we should arrest her, send her off, and be done with
it.’

‘Thank you Sergeant, I’ll ask her some
questions myself before we do anything’ a new voice said. Erris’
head started up as soon as she heard it.

Standing there in his uniform, Legnar’s
epaulets and golden buttons gleaming, burnished steel sword hanging
at his side, was her brother. He had grown a large beard since she
saw him last, but still…

‘Dom’, she muttered under her breath, her
eyes wide in surprise.

‘Hello, little sister’ Dom said, smiling
benevolently. ‘What have you gotten yourself into?’

‘They’re all dead, Dom. Mother, father,
they’re…they’re all gone.’ Erris could feel tears come unbidden to
her eyes.

‘What…?’ Dom asked, the rest of the question
silent.

‘The…the soldiers. They attacked us,
and…’

‘Ah’ Dom said, smiling sadly as he shook his
head. ‘That’s too bad.’

Erris looked up in sharp surprise as one of
the soldiers let out a stifled laugh.

‘That’s really too bad, little bird,’ Dom
continued, bending down and picking up the sword, and the bag of
books, that lay on the ground, ‘but we have more pressing matters
at hand. Where did these come from, sister?’

Erris was crying now, tears flowing down her
face. She had held out for so long, and now her brother was here,
and he didn’t care? Her face widened in shock and confusion even as
she cried. She could remember him being aloof, distant, but this
was too much.