Page 10

A dozen more of the beasts approached the commotion.

None were as large as the one below, which was taller than Esterra herself, but they were just as aggressive.

Without preamble, they charged in, pushing against one another in their frenzy to kill.

Esterra was jerked every way as the tree shook beneath her.

A deep crack resounded through the dust-churned air as a root snapped.

Her right arm hung limp and useless in its sling, her left hand raw and bloodied by its grip on the rough bark.

The tree shook again.

Another loud crack snapped through the air.

As the panic sent fresh adrenaline through her body, Esterra let the licht into her arm.

The white light dimmed the very sunlight for a moment.

She expected some reaction from the feral beasts, but they did not even notice.

The licht formed a long thin blade and she struck from above, whipping the light directly through the head of the nearest swine.

It squealed in agony, but to her horror it slammed its smoking, bloody head into the tree with even greater fury, its final moments totally committed to her downfall.

Even if I kill one or two, the rest will get me.

The roots issued another deep crack.

She pulled the licht back in, focusing on keeping her grip.

Her eyes whipped across the lurching backs of the wild beasts, measured the distance to the hollow, tried to find the boulders that housed her camp, looked for any crevice to make a rush and hide.

Everything was too far away.

A high-pitched whistle split the air.

The tree stopped shaking, the dust and pollen swirled about her in a miasma, and the swine squealed in terror.

They stampeded off down the hill into the long grass, slamming against one another as they fled.

A thin spear went flying after them, impaling one of them in the rear flank.

It crashed into the dirt, vanishing in a cloud of dust and grass.

Esterra looked down and saw a middle-aged man dressed in a thick leather tunic with brass rings sewn into it, half a dozen javelins strapped to his back.

She dropped down to meet him, her muscles trembling in a mixture of exertion and adrenaline.

His face was deeply tanned, accentuating his blue eyes, which looked over her quickly, stopping for a moment on her sling, then her bloodied hand.

“You’re not hurt,” he said.

“Follow me.”

They ran along the edge of the tract, beneath the great tawil, the hard leather soles of their boots clapping against the stones and packed earth, staccato echoes ricocheting up the gigantic wall to their left.

Esterra’s lungs burned, but she kept her legs moving, focused on survival.

The man climbed up a series of natural steps created by fallen rocks, then through a narrow passage formed by scraps of wood and brick, a solid defence against any attack from the beasts below.

They entered a natural bowl formed in the stone, only half a dozen paces wide.

It was open to the sky.

A small canvas tent was set to one side, ragged and damp with recent rain.

Esterra collapsed onto the stone floor.

Her saviour followed suit.

“I’m Karran,” he said after catching his breath.

“Esterra Stake,” she gasped. “Thanks.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he said, smiling.

“Nothing more enjoyable than facing twenty of those creatures with nothing but a whistle and a few spears.”

“They ran when they heard it.”

“I’m a mercenary working for the royal military.

We come here from time to time in an attempt to cull the pigs’ number.

They’re damned smart beasts, and have learnt that a whistle means a group of men with spears is coming.

They learn, you see.

We usually sortie on horseback, but stopped after the beasts learnt how timid horses really are.

They gouged two of the poor things to death.

Sadly enough, my false attack is likely to lessen the effect of the whistle in future encounters.

They’re not easily tricked twice.”

“Why are you here alone, then?”

“I came specifically to protect you.”

Esterra’s narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t think you’ll get any favours for saving me.”

The man blinked, then broke into laughter.

“Don’t band me in with those fools in the so-called kingdom.

Just because I put in some real work for food and tradeable items doesn’t make me an animal.”

“So why rescue me? It’s not out of the goodness of your heart, I’m sure.”

“You’re as cynical as Naba told me.”

“She sent you?”

“She doesn’t know I’m here.

But I overheard your conversation at breakfast about coming here to harvest a plant.

I decided to follow you.”

Esterra blinked.

“You’re her man?”

“I am, though she is acting very distant recently.

Anyhow, I know you’re important to her and her research, and maybe this will rekindle the spark in her eyes.”

Esterra shook her head slowly.

“That spark won’t be coming back.”

“Cynical again,” he smirked.

“Shut it, mercenary,” she said, meeting his eyes.

The jovial look left them and his smile faded.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

“Hasn’t she told you?” Esterra asked.

Stars above.

It hit her.

She told me, but he doesn’t know.

Do I tell him?

“Told me what?”

“She… She’s pregnant.”

Karran’s face became serious, then spoke.

“That’s amazing news.

It changes things somewhat, we’ll have to find a proper place to stay and all, I’ll have to find more stable work, but that explains her worry of late.

I’ll be sure to…”

“It’s not that simple.”

“How so?”

“You can’t just leave.

She doesn’t want to.”

“But we must! The queen…”

“You know it, I know it.

Damned stars above, she knows it.

But you need to be the one to convince her.

She won’t listen to me.

Don’t let her know that you found out about the baby.

She’ll want to tell you in your own time.

Just… tell me you’ll stay with her.” He nodded.

“Good.

So how do we get this damned plant?”

He grinned and opened a small pack that lay nearby.

Purple flowers poked up through the opening.

“Your distraction was handy, Stake.

As soon as that thing began chasing you, I went and uprooted this thing.

I knew you’d survive the few minutes I needed.

Your arm is something else. Is that…”

“Licht, aye.

Don’t dream for a moment that you want to be lichtridden, too.

You don’t.”

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

“Shut it.

We need to get back to Naba.”

They poked their heads out of the little bowl, spying a dozen pigs in the far distance, none visible nearby.

Their trek to the hollow was uneventful.

After Esterra had retrieved her belongings, they travelled through, returning to the Wooded Realm.

Twilight was settling over the tract as they left the hollow behind.

The stars glittered down from above, barely visible in the dying light of the red sun.

In the distance they could see the little palace.

Great clouds of smoke billowed up from the rooftops.

The red flash of fire flickered across the blackened walls, lighting the tops of the trees all around into bloodied spears, thrusting up at the royalty in wild rebellion.

The Wooded Realm burned.

Woodworkers threw buckets of water at the burning embers that alighted near their lathes and sawdust-encrusted benches, while loggers and coal-vendors and carpenters rushed about with any container that could hold water, splashing it all over everything in a mad frenzy.

Women worked the wells and children ran between the river and the buildings, hauling their liquid saviour with reckless sloshes and panicked breaths.

“Naba!” Karran cried, setting off at a run.

Esterra sprinted after.

Soon they could hear the clash of brass and the screams of combat echoing through the valley.

Blood had watered the wide roads of the little hamlet below the palace.

Blades had flung crimson across the walls of the little huts as well.

Farmers crouched in broken doorways nursing wounds, dead family members strewn in the shadows behind them.

Women screamed in the recesses of burning huts, foul laughter drowning them out.

Esterra rushed past with a deep guilt burning within, knowing she was selfish in her rush to save her friend, leaving all these innocents to the madness of the riots.

A soldier on horseback was pulled off his steed by half a dozen farmers and torn to shreds.

The horse was butchered shortly after. A muddied man crashed through a straw wall, one hand holding his entrails in, his face a mask of shock and terror. Karran dodged past him and Esterra followed hot on his heels. She heard the corpse hit the ground behind, and more laughter followed.

Esterra could see soldiers fighting in the fields, but they all wore the same armour.

Some had red rags tied about their upper arms, a sign of allegiance to some internal clique, while others bore blue, and yet others nothing at all.

It all clicked together in her head.

Nellan’s reign had come to an abrupt end.

How or why, she didn’t know, but clearly old feuds had taken the opportunity presented and a great fight for the throne was on.

A mob of woodcutters waded through the fields towards the soldiers, clearly having decided to take matters into their own hands.

As the shouts and clashes of dying flesh and screaming bronze filled the air, Karran led the way up to the palace.

The entire place was a battlezone.

All sense of order and stability had shattered.

Fires tore through the inner chambers, gutting the furniture and servants alike.

Blood leaked under curtained doorways and dripped from the walls as if the palace itself was bleeding flame.

Karran kept his head in the chaos, and the pair made their way up to Naba’s chambers.

The door was bolted tight and they could hear her crying within.

Esterra banged at the door, shouting, but Karran pulled her aside, and pleaded with his woman.

After a moment the door cracked open.

Naba was unhurt.

The room was a mess.

Drawers hung askew from the wardrobe, trailing dresses and scarves, and a small bag filled with dirt showed a hundred little seedlings squashed together.

She had hurriedly packed some of her clothes, but had given up at some point and sat bawling in the middle of the it all.

Karran immediately set to completing the task of packing as Esterra consoled her friend.

“It’s okay, dearest.

We’re both here.

You’re safe.”

“Nothing is okay,” Naba muttered under her heavy breaths.

“The king is dead, but I couldn’t trick her.

She doesn’t eat as quickly.”

“Trick who? The queen? What are you talking about?”

“I poisoned them, their food.

I knew after our talk, I needed to do it.

I needed to be strong like you…”

“But why did you send me… All of this chaos… Stars, woman, you’ve started a revolution.”

“Will my baby be safe?”

“Yes.

We’ll get you out of here.”

“Karran, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Naba said, imploring eyes turning to her lover.

“I know now, and that’s all that matters, Naba,” he replied, smiling at her for a moment before returning to the chaos of the room.

Screams echoed in the hallway outside.

“The queen!” Naba said.

“Do you have a lamp? Oil?”

“Yes, somewhere.” Naba rummaged through the bookshelves that lined her small bedroom, pushing aside little vials of water and barely sprouted seeds in her search.

The cries grew louder, and a raucous laughter joined them.

Something smashed on the floor outside the door.

Esterra joined her friend in her frantic hunt for the lantern.

Karran’s face had gone pale now, and the stress was showing.

He was no veteran, that much was clear.

Esterra swore under her breath as something crashed into the door.

“Here it is!” Naba thrust the lantern into Esterra’s hands.

She hooked it to a buckle on her arm-sling.

“I’m going out there,” she replied.

“Follow me after fifteen breaths.

They’ll have crossbows.

We’re leaving.”

Esterra waited for another crash on the door, then drew the bolts and opened it.

The man was still recovering from the charge.

She flew at him and buried her blade in his open mouth, severing his spine.

He collapsed.

She spun, narrowly avoiding a crossbow bolt to the chest.

It sang a scream of pain across her ribcage instead, slicing through the flesh before thudding into the wall.

Five crossbowmen stood at the end of the hallway, with a dozen spearmen arranged in a circle.

In the centre of this human porcupine stood the queen.

Her eyes blazed, her pallid face showing more skull than anything.

Fury filled her every fibre, though the effect was diminished as the woman vomited something dark.

She did manage to poison the bitch after all, ha! Esterra estimated the paces it would take to reach them.

Too far .

Another bolt flicked by her cheek.

She hurled the lantern in response, pushing every mote of energy she could into the action.

It arced through the air and smashed into the helmet of the guard beside the queen.

The entire little retinue was washed in oil and the burning wick kissed them. Their screams were miserable competition against the crackle of their skin. Esterra did not think she would eat for a week as the stench of burning hair and melting flesh flooded the hallway.

The last thing she saw was the queen’s baleful glare, but that soon turned to a screaming mess, so Esterra did not give a damn.

She grabbed one of Naba’s bags, and lifted her up.

The trio rushed through the palace, Karran bearing most of his lover’s belongings.

He had no time to retrieve his, as the fires had spread out of control, and the rioting and looting grew only the fiercer, as if in it was a sick competition.

The actual fighting largely died down as the tract-dwellers’ priorities changed to saving what they could from the palace, be that through wild looting or splashing water ineffectually across the pillars and walls.

By the time the three of them had reached the foot of the tawil, the forest itself had also truly caught.

The smoke was thick and black, sweet with the smell of burning pine.

“The hollow is abandoned,” Karran said, looking up at the entrance.

“Every guard has a family down there,” Esterra said.

Naba was silent, looking down on her whole world as it burned.

Esterra knew she had helped the forest to grow so abundantly, had created the entire farm system almost singlehandedly.

The tractwalker knew that she herself would never understand what it meant to witness such a thing.

She was a wanderer, a killer, a lone destroyer.

She knew nothing of productive work, of building something from the scraps of a dead world.

She only made the world a little more dead with each tract she visited.

With her good arm slung about her friend’s shoulders, she watched as it all burned to the ground, listening to the whirlwind sound of the forest fire as it grew and grew till the noise drowned out Naba’s quiet tears.

It was only as the chaos descended into monotony that Esterra remembered the plant.

She dipped into Karran’s small pack and pulled it out.

“Here, Naba, we rescued something.

I’m not sure how much use it might be for you now, though.”

“It was never for me,” Naba said, chuckling between her tears.

“What?”

“I believe it is a stronger form of faeroot.

I wanted it for you, Esterra, a surprise.

Maybe it could heal your…”

Naba’s next words were smothered by Esterra’s tight embrace.

Her one arm clutching her friend as close as possible.

Her entire body shook as she sobbed in gratitude.

They cried together, releasing all the pent-up nerves of the past day.

Esterra had never been one for showing emotion, particularly in front of friends, but now she let loose a torrent of love for her only true friend in all the world, a friend who never stopped looking for a way to bring her peace.