Shadowrun - Earthdawn - Mother Speaks (26 page)

BOOK: Shadowrun - Earthdawn - Mother Speaks
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The Therans rushed into the castle, dropped the portcullis, and sealed the drawbridge. As they sailed away, I dragged myself into the tower, seeking shelter in case the Overgovernor decided to fire the cannons at me out of spite. We made out way into the tower, and I collapsed on the landing at the top of the spiral stairs.

You asked me if I was all right. I told you the truth. The two of you knelt down on either side of me, touching my forehead gently, as I had done so many times when one of you had a fever.

16

The looting began immediately.

I found out later that over the previous three months — the time I had spent in the "box"

— J'role had set up the crystal raider attack with the rebel groups of Vivane. He had actually been in the city during my imprisonment, but had no idea I was so close.

Krattack had arranged for the Bloodrock crystal raiders to join in the attack.

Now there were dozens of trolls in a city they considered conquered. According to custom, they set about taking whatever they wanted. They gave considerable attention to the palace, whose halls contained all manner of splendid baubles, some brought in before the invasion of the Therans, some after.

The citizens of Vivane, however, considered themselves freed, not conquered, and the actions of the trolls caught them completely by surprise. Soon both sides were fighting over treasures each considered theirs.

As this new conflict raged, I led you two through the streets, looking for the gate of the city. I had fill enough of trolls and raiders and Therans and simply wanted to go home.

Numerous fires lit the darkening city, and I heard the screams of Theran soldiers and those who'd betrayed their city to the invaders. The streets were oddly empty, for most of the inhabitants of the city were hiding behind the safety of their locked doors.

The one thing I did not want was a confrontation with your father. I was too weak to put up with his words and his logic and his exhausting pleas for affection. Somehow my mind had twisted events so that everything that had happened in the last few months was his fault. You might remember how tired I was.

A swath of deep violet covered the sky, the stars began to sparkle.

Suddenly, there was your father standing before us, framed by a huge bonfire. Smoke coiled upward, twisting and turning, then vanishing into the night. First he looked at me, smiling, so happy I was all right. Then he noticed you, and his face softened so much I thought he might cry.

"Where did you go, Releana? I've been looking all over for you."

"Let's not talk now. I want to get them home."

"We can fly there." He laughed derisively. "What were you going to do? Walk back?"

In fact, I had planned to walk back. But flying certainly seemed like a better idea. Easier.

Weariness soaked into my flesh the moment I weakened to the thought of flying. Yes, flying would be better.

I realized that both of you had become tense. You did not recognize this man, and you wanted to protect me.

"Shhh, shhh," I said, trying to soothe you. "This is ..." I faltered, uncertain how to go on.

J'role stepped forward, the fire behind him casting a red aura around his body. His arms outstretched, he said, "I'm your father."

You both froze, then looked at me for confirmation or denial of this startling announcement. I don't know what possessed J'role to suddenly confront you with this fact. Perhaps he was just so happy you were still alive. Perhaps it was the fact that he'd finally been given the chance to save your lives — or at least play a part in saving you. It has long been my suspicion that your father, and all men, believed love had to be earned with spilled blood and a deliverance from mortal injury. Maybe now he thought he could claim your affections.

Whatever the reason, he said it. You both gripped my hands tighter, though whether from excitement or fear I couldn't tell. Torran said, "Momma?" and Samael asked, "Daddy?"

and in that moment, hearing those two words spoken together by our children for the first time, I became as confused as the two of you.

J’role knelt down in front of us. He did not touch either of you, but held his arms out wide, poised for a hug.

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered, too tired to raise my voice.

He looked at you two boys, a smile on his face. I wish I could say it was a smile of joy.

A pleasant smile. But he might just as easily have been looking at prizes. Trophies of an accomplishment from his lost youth. His smile, like so much about him, was not for you, but about himself reflected in you.

Yes, you were there and so there is no need to tell you what you already know. But perhaps as children you were unable to grasp all the subtleties. I also know that you have forgotten much of the events I describe.

And I do it to turn you against him.

"I've been gone from them long enough, Releana." Your father looked from one of you to the other, back and forth. I saw him wanting to say your names, but hesitating again and again. Then I realized he could not tell you apart. He did not know which of you was Samael, and which Torran

"Are you really our daddy?" Torran asked, lowering his voice, trying to sound as cagey and strong as an adult.

With no more than a croak, J'role answered, "I am."

"You're the clown who comes to our village," said Samael, suddenly laughing. "How can you be our daddy?"

"I ..."

"Clowns can be daddies," countered Torran.

"Not this clown."

"Why not?"

"He's never said he was our daddy before."

"That doesn't mean he wasn't."

"Momma, why would a clown not say he was our daddy if he was?"

The question daunted my imagination — one usually well versed in impromptu answers to the Very Large Questions children ask adults all the time. More than that, I saw no reason to try to answer. J’role had started it with his pronouncement. I decided to let him try playing parent for a while. "Ask the clown," I told you.

You hesitated for a moments then Torran asked, "If you're Daddy, why didn't you tell us?"

"Well ..."

J'role looked to me for support. A deep, buried part of me wanted to come to his aid. I ignored it.

"Well, I am your father, I am your daddy. I've been ... You know how you get busy with something?" You stared at him, uncertain.

"Releana!" a voice called. I turned and saw Wia running up. She came straight over to me and saw my wounds. "Oh, Passions. Oh, Releana. I'm so sorry. Are you all right?"

I nodded.

Then she saw J'role staring at her. She sensed immediately that she must have interrupted something. "What should we do?" she asked me.

"Let's go home," I said.

"All right."

With Wia at my side, I walked the two of you forward and past J'role.

"Is that Daddy, Mommy?" asked Torran, and Samael asked, "What about Daddy?"

As I continued to move on, I said, "Daddy and I have had problems."

"You mean you don't love each other," said Torran, never one to mince words when he had a clue as to what was happening.

J'role, standing where we had left him, shouted, "We still love each other!" He looked down at the ground, his fists clenched. He didn't follow us.

"I really don't know," I said softly.

"But he's Daddy," said Samael.

"Daddy and I have a great many things to work out."

"But ..." and with that, you, Samael, began to cry.

"Quiet," Torran said harshly.

"It's all right," I said, and tried to kneel down beside you. Instead, I collapsed and ended up sitting on the ground. I scooped you both up in my arms and hugged you tight. But I felt your attention being sent past me, to the man at my back.

Samael said softly, "I want my daddy."

I tell you, I was furious. That a man who had not been in your life at all should command so much attention. I wanted to lift you both up and shake you violently until I was the one who had the power of life and death over you. Not this impostor parent who had arrived on a whim and could not even explain his absence.

I reined it all in, however. "I want Daddy, too," I said, though I do not think I meant it.

Maybe I did. I wish now I knew. "But not now. Maybe someday."

"Soon?"

"Someday."

Wia helped me up. We walked on. J'role did not come after us or speak another word.

And neither did either of you for a long, long time.

17

We traveled on foot, and then by the good graces of a caravan driver, by cart. I became very ill. A questor of Garlen tended my wounds and my illness. The Passion did not manifest herself to me during this time, and I thought I had seen the last of her.

Finally we reached our village. We found of course, burnt and ruined buildings. Weeds and vines grew up and down posts and stone walls that had been the village tavern, a barn, a home. Unburied skeletons, their flesh picked off months earlier by scavengers, lay half buried in dirt churned up by rain storms in the intervening months. Weeds and wildflowers wormed their way over our fields. Nothing else remained.

"Where is everybody?" one of you asked.

Gone, of course. Enslaved, or escaped. It had never occurred to me that our home would simply not be there.

"I'm so sorry," I said out loud.

Torran said, "It's all right, Momma. You couldn't a' stopped it."

"She's just sad, Torran," Wia said. "She's full of sorrow. That's what she means."

We moved on, and eventually found residence in a village far to the west, near Death's Sea. I became the village magician, the previous magician having disappeared while looking for elemental fire along Death's Sea.

I took comfort in only one thing. J'role had no idea where we were.

We became members of the community, and the two of you made new friends. So did I, including an ever stronger friendship with Wia.

Compared to the roughness of the troll clan and their life, the gentler, talkative village we called home seemed a blessing. The focus was no longer on punching and boasting and raiding, but making sure we all got along well enough to protect each other against threats from the outside world.

Your nightmares came, and I comforted you as best I could. Until now I had always believed children were particularly resilient to the horrors of life. I thought that because their personalities were not yet fully formed, the simple comfort of a home could cure all painful experiences. But such was not the case. How many times would I rush into your room and find you both weeping uncontrollably in your sleep.

The horrors of childhood help shape a personality. They become part of who the person is. It isn't something that can be shucked off, because there isn't anything solid enough there yet to do the shucking.

So I held the two of you in my arms, trying my best to give you enough love to balance the terrors of being torn away from your home, captured and enslaved by strangers, witnessing horrible deaths, and viewing the scattered bones of the people who had once been our neighbors. I really don't know if my hugs and talks helped, but it was all I could do.

Months passed.

18

After the attack on Vivane, the Therans retreated to Sky Point. Their ground forces had been scattered between Vivane and Sky Point, the fleet had been divided up and weakened by Stoneclaw attacks. All in all, they were much weaker. The slave trade dwindled, and many people expected the Therans to soon leave the area.

That was not to happen. Not at all.

One day, on your eighth birthday, the Therans returned.

The village children had gathered for your party in the tavern courtyard. You two boys, along with the other young children of the village, ran about wildly, playing games involving a great deal of screaming. The rest of the girls watched your violent antics or else gathered in small groups and discussed which of you was nicer.

Then the cries of surprise and fingers pointed toward the air. Not one but three air castles flew toward us, escorted by a dozen smaller airships. I had just estimated their location as over the village of Branthan when the castles began pouring down a storm of fireballs.

Just dropping them down onto the village.

Huge pillars of smoke immediately began to rise. I couldn't guess why such a small village would be the target of a major assault, but then I saw that the ships were still moving — moving toward us. The attack on Branthan was merely a passing thought.

"Let's get to shelter!" I shouted. Few of the other villagers had ever had actual encounters with the Therans, and so did not understand what the presence of the airships and their fire cannons meant. They didn't move in response to my warning, but instead looked from me to the flying castles and stone vessels.

I jumped up onto a barrel and turned to face them. "Listen to me. They've come back.

The Therans. They've brought back more ships. This might be only a small part of the fleet! There might be more ships all over the land. But the key is that these ships are coming to hurt us!"

One woman said, "But we haven't ..."

"It doesn't matter. They're out to ruin us. They're probably looking to revenge the attack on Vivane. They need to weaken us, destroy — "

"But what ..."

"NOT NOW!" I felt embarrassed by my outburst and my position at center stage. The stares of the gathered villagers bored into me, increasing my discomfort. Each one seemed to silently ask, Who is this woman? Who is she to be so loud and order us around, when she only arrived in our community but a few months ago? Who does she think she is?

But my time spent among the trolls had given me training in such matters. I might lose face in the long run, with the community, with my standing as being nice, but there were times to give up nice, and I'd learned how to do it on Twilight Peaks. With all eyes still on me, I said, "Let's retreat into the jungle. If they don't try to hurt us, fine. But we can't count on that."

Some of the others nodded, and began gathering up their children. The village elder sent some of the village's fast runners off to the farms with the warning. The rest of us did what we could. We carried the sick and elderly. While the ships got closer and closer, I had to drag some people screaming from their fields, for they could not appreciate the threat that was upon us.

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