Obsidian (17 page)

“Look,” Corfe cut in, beginning to rise from the table. “I don’t know what game your little band of brothers is playing. First Vancien’s dead, now he’s alive. Then Amarian is Obsidian’s Advocate, now he’s not. I’ve half a mind to throw you all out on your heels.”

At the far end of the table, Chiyo had been scratching plans into its wooden surface. He had not spoken at all during dinner, except for muttering to himself. Now, when Corfe’s voice escalated, he slammed down his knife.

“You will do no such thing, Corfe. Sit down.” Surprised, the young man obeyed as Chiyo continued. “Do you know what I’ve been doing while you’ve been discussing Kynell knows what?” He pointed a calloused finger towards the scratches. “Planning evacuation routes. Preparing for our defense. Figuring out how to keep people alive. Do you or do you not believe that a large force will soon be laying siege to this city?”

They all nodded.

“Then I suggest we start acting more like soldiers and less like theologians. Send for your commanding general. We need to evacuate the women and children immediately. Have him bring me layouts of the palace, the city, and the surrounding areas. After that, send for the king. He needs to know what’s going on. Vancien, find the palace carpenter. We’ll need his help. N’vonne, find the kitchen master. We must know how long we can hole up in this place. Telenar, find what helpful priests you can and get all the useless ones out, away from the soldiers.”

Vancien was already on his feet. “And Amarian?”

Chiyo paused. “It might be best to keep him out of sight. If any under his former command see him, who knows how they’ll react?”

Everyone, even Corfe, was galvanized into action by Chiyo’s words. By min-lunos, the king and his chief officers had been informed of the approaching danger, and Chiyo was already conferring with the carpenter on how to build barriers against the enemy. Shouts started reverberating in the streets as word spread of the evacuation.

It was still several hours before dawn when the soldiers banged on Ming’s door. Amarian withdrew into a corner as the older lady limped to the door, wiping sleep out of her eyes as she went.

“Yes?”

A flushed young officer bowed. “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. The city is being evacuated. We must ask you to remove yourself and any dependents inside the walls to report for immediate departure. Please do not flee yourself but report to the city for appropriate evacuation orders. Please do not take anything with you but warm clothes and food. Shelter will be provided.”

Having finished with his speech, he hurried away to the next house. Ming shut the door, lit a candle, and looked at Amarian. “Do you count as a dependent, my son?”

“No, but I’ll help you get your food ready for the road.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The night before Chiyo ordered the evacuation, Lucio and Teehma made their escape. After several tense days of planning, Lucio had wanted to leave the city as quickly as possible, but Teehma insisted that they say farewell to Trint and Ester first. She had asked Sirin where they were living during supper. Unsuspecting, he had described Tertio’s shop to them and even how to get there. So later that same night they crept down the street, avoiding eye contact with anybody and hoping they could see their two comrades one more time before they left the city forever.

Sirin’s directions were accurate. In about twenty minutes, they found themselves outside of a small house, with two windows facing the street and, around the corner in an alley, two more windows. It did not take long for Lucio, using Gorvy’s training, to find the window that looked in on both Ester and Trint sleeping in bunked beds. But his small whoop of triumph was cut short when the door to their room opened and Tertio looked in. Holding their breath outside the window, Teehma and Lucio could only see the outline of his head. It looked like a contented outline. Teehma felt a pang; it had been a long time since an adult had bothered to look in and see how she was sleeping.

After a few minutes, Tertio left and Lucio sprang the window’s lock. They climbed inside, using a worn-out old dresser as a ladder down to the planked floor. Tertio certainly did not live like Sirin, but the place was clean and warm. Trint was sleeping like a baby, but Ester jumped when Teehma scuffed her foot on the floor.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

“It’s us, Ester,” Lucio responded in a hoarse whisper. “We’re here to say goodbye.”

“Lucio? Is Teehma here too? Where are you going?” As she swung out of the lower bed in the pale light, Teehma noted her soft nightgown with envy. She had left hers behind at Sirin’s, not seeing the need to sleep in anything but her clothes during the journey. She sighed. No more luxuries for her.

“Me and Lucio are leaving Lascombe, Ester,” she began. “There’s nothing for us anymore at Sirin’s, now that you and Trint are safe.”

Ester felt about wildly for her hand, which Teehma provided. “You can’t leave!” she whispered. “You haven’t even visited us once yet! I told Trint that you would come see us soon. He’s been so upset. He’s been saying you’ve forgotten us. You haven’t forgotten us, have you?”

It was the most they had heard her speak in cycles. Even Lucio began to feel some remorse. “Of course not, Ester. You’re family. We’re not gonna forget you. But we have to go. How can we stay at Sirin’s, knowin’ nobody wants us? Not even the old munkke-trophe? You an’ Trint have a home now.” He looked around the room, admiring its size. “A good home.”

“What will I tell Trint?”

“I’ll tell him.” Before Ester could stop him, Lucio had clambered up to the top bunk and was shaking the boy awake. “Hey Trint, wake up! It’s Lucio.”

Trint obviously did not appreciate the importance of the occasion. “Go’way, Lucio,” he muttered, shoving his head even deeper under the pillow.

Lucio was undeterred. “Don’t be a
narfat
, Trint. Wake up. Teehma an’ I are coming to say goodbye.”

Trint poked his head out from the bedding. “Goodbye? What for?”

“Teehm an’ I are leaving Lascombe. We, uh. . .” he faltered .” . .we don’t know when we’ll come back, but we’ll come visit when we do.”

Trint did not seem as upset by this news as Teehma thought he might be. “When? In a few days?”

Lucio looked at Teehma for help, but she was staring stonily out the window. Maybe coming here had not been such a good idea after all.

“Uh, maybe a couple months.”

“Months?” Trint’s grogginess disappeared. To a child of four cycles, months lasted an eternity. “But Ester said maybe tomorrow. . .”

It was more of a protest than Lucio’s short reserve of tenderness could handle. With a quick pat on the boy’s head, he jumped down to the floor. “Sorry, Trint. We gotta go.”

Teehma offered some gentle goodbyes but Trint was already in tears. They left, trying to ignore the sounds of his sobbing and Ester’s attempts at encouragement. The window shut on the sound of Tertio coming in to find out what was wrong with his two new charges.

It was a few blocks before they spoke again.

“Nice one, Teehma. Such a good idea to stop in and give our respects.” He kicked at a stone. “So much for slipping away, unnoticed by anybody.”

“Yeah, well, if you weren’t such a brute, he wouldn’t be so upset.”

Lucio said nothing in response but kicked at the stones harder. They carried on in this fashion until they reached the eastern gate. The guard there happened to be somebody they had known from their days under Gorvy. He had always taken pity on them, even to the point of bringing them tidbits from his small garden outside the city walls. After a few questions and pleasantries, he unbarred a small door adjacent to the gate and let them out.

Outside of Lascombe’s south-eastern corner was a whole other city: a poorer, more impermanent version of the capital itself. This was where much of Keroul’s peasantry lived, in clusters of dwellings far enough out to tend the fields, yet close enough to seek the mighty city’s protection in times of danger. Lucio and Teehma had been this way a few times before—enough to know that there was little worth robbing—and could creep through the dirt-packed streets with relative ease. By mid-lunos they were almost to the last of the sloping houses and by dawn they had traveled far enough to rest by a shallow creek.

“How far are we going, anyway?” Teehma asked as she fluffed her pack up into a pillow.

“Don’t know. I’d like to get out of view of the city.” He waved his arms toward some fields on the horizon. “I bet those farms don’t have people like Gorvy or Sirin.”

Teehma yawned, trying to disentangle her long hair with her fingers. “Sirin wasn’t so bad.”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t for us.”

She didn’t bother asking what
was
for them. Yet when they resumed their journey later that afternoon, their predicament continued to trouble her. What chance would they have if they failed to find a farm to work on? With no family, no money, and very little skills, their prospects could not be good. At least with Sirin, they would have had the opportunity of learning a trade, even if they were never placed in a home. She tried this argument with Lucio as they walked, but he would hear nothing of it. His anger at Sirin for taking Trint and Ester away from them had built up to an irrational level. In his mind, anything, including starving under the open stars, was better than living under the roof of “that
monkey.” Since she wasn’t about to leave him to his own devices, she dropped the subject and concentrated on replenishing their small food supply.

Several nights later, they had had little success among the farmers. Lucio had spent one day helping a man plow his field, thus earning dinner and a night in the barn for the both of them, but no one was interested in taking on two youths long term. Mostly they just received sympathetic wishes and a few bits of coin.

They had made camp a little bit off the road, dined on some meat sticks provided by a charitable blacksmith, and drank the last of the tea stolen from Sirin’s cupboards. Exhaustion claimed them not long after and they fell into a deep sleep, punctuated only by Lucio’s light snores and the sound of a chipperwick chattering above them. Lucio had tried to bring it down with his sling earlier that evening, but it had evaded his clumsy attempts. Now it was determined to remind him of his failure by keeping up a constant monologue.

Far into the night, they were awakened by sounds far worse than an annoying chipperwick. A combination of stamping feet, clashing metal, and angry shrieks filled the night air. It sounded as if it were right next to their heads. Awaking with an oath he had learned from Gorvy, Lucio jumped to his feet, then covered Teehma’s mouth before she could cry out. The horrible din was coming from the road. In the dim light cast from the triple lunos, they could see thousands of shapes marching past, some of them human, many of them contorted, all of them convulsing as if their veins were on fire.

The two remained as motionless as statues, partly from an instinct for survival, partly because the sight passing before their eyes produced the type of terror that numbs the brain and the body. Teehma’s breath came in short spurts, but she made no sound, even when Lucio removed his hand. Lucio had given up swearing. Instead, he was digging deep for the few Prysm prayers he knew.

It took hours for the horde to pass. None of the gruesome soldiers thought to look into the copse of trees for sport. Each one seemed preoccupied with his own torments. By the time the last twitching shadow disappeared, the morning orbs were beginning to peak over the horizon. Teehma hissed as she moved her aching muscles.

“What was that?”

Lucio looked just as horrified as she felt. “I don’t know. But it made me feel sick.” His voice sounded dull. “Like when my mom would come home late from the tavern. An’ father would hit her for being so drunk. An’ then she’d hit me. . .” He shook his head violently, trying to dispel the feeling. “I feel all empty inside.”

Teehma nodded, feeling thirsty, hungry, sore, and desolate all at once. “Maybe we should keep going and get as far away from those. . .those men as possible. The orbs will come up soon and we’ll feel better.”

Lucio nodded as he began to pack up their few things.

__________

There was no way Gair would be able to catch up with Obsidian’s army. With one voyoté loaded down with two passengers, he’d be lucky to get to Lascombe by the end of the siege. It didn’t help that the road they traveled on was strewn with debris from the passing mob: bits of torn cloth that tangled the voyoté’s legs, some broken weapons, and, occasionally, the remains of some poor soul who had gotten in the Easterners’ way.

Despite the delay, Gair turned a deaf ear to Verial’s repeated requests to abandon the child. Providing a home for her had proven more difficult than he had thought. The few villages they encountered were the same ones who had seen the Easterners pass. They were the ones who had not heeded Reyn’s warning that the Cylini were coming, and so they had witnessed invaders far worse than any Cylini. Not surprisingly, they had also turned superstitious overnight and refused to take in a stray. It took several days of searching, a great deal of groveling, and a sizable monetary gift, before they found a family willing to take her in. Only Ragger was sad to see her go. Verial had been openly offended by the child’s existence and Gair was anxious to get back to Lascombe as soon as possible. He did hope that he had done the right thing. Parents who needed flattery and monetary persuasion to take a baby in need would be unlikely to give it a supportive home. He shook his head. Such considerations were secondary now. What was done was done.