Chapter Twenty-five

From a completed epic fantasy novel told across two time periods.

The Old Man

Year 1378 (Present day)

The elderly man with the long, white beard and hairless pate who had spoken at the village gathering was named Trounen. While closer in age to eighty than seventy, he worked still as a fisherman and butcher. The Old Man, who was making an effort to think of himself now as Gray, had learned much from Trounen regarding the history of the village and how it had grown over the years.

Trounen was one of the village’s founders, along with Harold, who came to the land nearly two decades ago. As with his talks with Harold, Gray did not learn much regarding the motivations of the settlers, only that they wanted to be far away from civilization. That the village had grown so large, now with more than seventy inhabitants, had been unexpected, and Gray suspected, undesired by the first wave of migrants.

Gray had asked only one question regarding Makani, and had asked only after her business. The store, which doubled as her house, was solely her possession now, as her husband had died five or six years ago. Trounen had started to say something else about the woman’s past, then had carefully directed the conversation back to her work as a cobbler, which everyone agreed was excellent. Gray asked after the lad, Jaroslav as well, partially out of legitimate interest, and partially to cover his question about Makani. Trounen said the boy’s father had died two years past, killed by the frostfangs which stalked the tundra. The man had been out with three other adult males, and had been the only one to perish. Trounen did not need to add that Jaroslav had been shamed by that, but he did, saying that the entire village had tired of the young lad’s preening.

He would like me to humble the adolescent, but that would at best last until I have left, only to add fuel to his fire in my absence, Gray had thought during Trounen’s indictment of the boy.

Gray had decided on an altogether different approach for dealing with Jaroslav. He had effectively made the boy his second in command in the development of the village’s defense. Whenever there was a complaint, grievance, or insignificant question, Gray directed the villagers to Jaroslav. He balanced this by training with the boy twice a day instead of the once daily regiment for the other villagers of fighting age, a metric which was in a constant state of fluctuation.

It was one of the greatest challenges Gray faced. No one knew how many Imperial Defenders would be arriving, or for that matter, when they would come. But the village could field at most fifty-four fighters, and at times that number had gone down to forty-six. All agreed that children under twelve years of age would not fight and would need to be kept inside when the attack began. There were only eight children of that age however. The borderline cases were villagers of advanced age or, in the case of two men, those with severe physical limitations.

There were other challenges as well. Only a handful of the men had ever fought before, and that experience was questionable at best. One man had insisted he had fought for the True Brothers, a mercenary company with a long history and lofty reputation. But Gray believed otherwise after seeing the way he held a sword. Then there was the problem of arming all of those adults. Chorel, the village blacksmith, was capable enough, but he could only forge so many weapons in a day. The existing arsenal consisted of a few swords, mostly rusted from disuse, a larger number of farming implements, a good supply of spears which were used for hunting and protecting the village from beasts, and a great quantity of bows and arrows, used for the same purposes as the spears.

Gray had anticipated these issues. The village consisted of people who wanted to live away from civilization. They were not fighters or leaders. What he had not anticipated was the tedious task of managing personalities and factions within the village.

I’ve never been accused of having a silver tongue. Tried my best to put myself in positions where others did the talking. At least I have Makani and Trounen.

He had relied on those two to take Harold’s place as the unofficial leaders of the village. Makani could smooth things over and make people feel as though her ideas had been their own. Trounen simply took command when needed and ended conversations with declarations that others were afraid to criticize. They held meetings and asked for supplies while Gray and Jaroslav oversaw the military operations which consisted of constructing trenches and fortifications as well as designing plans and procedures for various circumstances which Gray believed could arise depending on the training and experience of the Imperial Defenders.

The sun had just gone down after an arduous day of work which saw two villagers collapse from exhaustion. The people were a hearty lot, but Gray knew he had to continually push them to their limits. He had already pictured the ensuing battle in his mind, and each time he saw himself left standing against a score of Imperial Defenders. He was not sure whether he could manage that anymore. Once upon a time though, he would have eagerly accepted the proposal.

Gray walked with Jaroslav from the improvised training ground back to the village proper. The boy was strong and willing to learn. Although he had started as a complete novice, he had already far surpassed the others. While they practiced out of necessity, Jaroslav trained because he wished to be a great swordsman. The difference was crucial to rapid advancement.

“Do you know how to fight with a spear as well?” the boy asked.

“I do,” Gray responded without looking over.

“May we work some with spears tomorrow?”

“No. The spears will be used by those who are not strong enough to swing swords for an extended period of time. A spear is a more defensive weapon. We will leave them to others.”

He did not have to look over to ascertain the reaction of the lad.

“My mother had been training with a spear. She is afraid of using it however.”

“There’s no shame in feeling afraid. Only in acting afraid.”

They had been sparring a hundred yards from the village and were now crossing the snowy ground toward the tavern. Gray’s meals were free now, as were Jaroslav’s, a request Gray made for the impression it would make on the youth more than for any economical reason. Jaroslav had been beaming with pride during the week that Gray had been in the village, and that enthusiasm could play a defining role in the battle to come. He wondered if the boy would be insufferable after he departed and finally continued on his intended path. He was trying his best to prevent that.

So far, the boy has picked up on every subtlety I have thrown his way. I may have initially misjudged him. His pride over his father’s failing has not made him overly aggressive. It has only left in him a desire to correct what he sees as an imbalance on the scales of his life.

In fact, Gray was beginning to like the boy. He did as he was told and always, without exception, gave his utmost effort.

“Do you think my mother will fight, when the time comes?”

“I do.”

“I hope she will.”

“If enough Imperial Defenders arrive, she will have no choice.”

The comment was not meant to frighten the youth. That it did gave Gray a chill.

These people were better off before I crossed their path. True, they were living under oppression, but where is that not true in this world? Perhaps Withigan, but then that city-state is half-mad. That is what they say, at least.

How many of innocent people will die because of me? Though, what alternative did I have? To lay down and die?

The world was a simple place until people entered the picture. That was a truth Gray had learned long ago. Yet it seemed as though he could never apply the knowledge he had gained. He had lived the second half of his life as a loner, and even then, he was still finding himself entrapped by either honor or guilt, he was not sure which. When other people crossed his path, situations were muddied by emotions from which he had done his best to free himself. It also meant that others could suffer from his failures. He had already crossed half the world for someone he felt obligated to assist, and now he had an entire village depending on him.

More than seventy lives in the hands of an old man. An old man who never learned how to communicate or connect with others. Is it arrogant to view one’s own life as tragic?

Jaroslav rushed ahead to open the door to the tavern. Gray thanked his companion and stepped into the relative warmth of the building. Business had picked up since his arrival. The unnamed tavern had always been popular with the two dozen or so men and women who found comfort in ale, but now finding oneself in the tavern at the right time was seen by some as an opportunity to exert some control over the perilous situation in which the village found itself. Gray was aware of this, which was another reason he always brought Jaroslav along with him.

The cook, Lorina, had taken Harold’s place as host of the tavern until his return. All agreed that he would be back, but the shape that the man would be in when they next saw him was another question altogether. People were never more capable of evil then when their pride had been damaged, and thugs such as the Imperial Defenders were not accustomed to showing restraint. Gray hoped the man was still able to walk and feed himself, but he did not hold out much hope for that.

Lorina had saved a table for Gray and Jaroslav. She poured them both tankards of ale as soon as they sat down. “Fish stew with potatoes this evening,” she said.

“Thank you. That sounds excellent,” Gray replied.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jaroslav added.

“I’ll add some more logs to the fire as well,” Lorina said, hustling off.

Gray could tell Jaroslav enjoyed the benefits of being at his side. Now came his time to earn his payment.

Two women, a mother and daughter, stood up from the table they had been sitting at in the back, one with a clear view of the entrance. The petitioners always waited a few moments before descending upon Gray. Long enough not to seem pushy, but not too long so as to lose the opportunity to be first in line.

“Good evening, Gray,” said the mother. “Apologies for bothering you, but my daughter and I would like to request a small change to the placements of the ditches that are being dug. You see, the holes, they end right before our home. When the fighting begins, the first place people will run to…”

“I hate to be rude, but I need a moment,” Gray said, standing up.

Jaroslav took the hint. “The placement of the trenches was chosen so as to force the enemy into attacking through predetermined, narrow avenues,” he said as Gray walked away.

Back outside in the cold, Gray headed toward the tavern’s outhouse.

After finishing his business, he took his time walking back to the tavern. He knew he was being manipulative, but still considered it his best option. And it would cut down on the complaints and petitions in the end. People would get tired of taking directions from a youth and would eventually give up on holding audience with Gray. Or Makani and Trounen would become busier. But that was a positive outcome. If Harold returned incapable of leading the village, those two would have to take on the role permanently. Best get them used to it now.

The human mind’s ability to justify its own inadequacies is incredible. And there is no lack of inadequacies here. No wonder I am so adept at this.

When he entered the tavern again, the women had left and been replaced with a husband and wife, both in their late twenties. They were two of a handful of second-generation villagers who had known no other way of life than living out here in the wilderness of North Saltion. Gray wondered what their concept of the world could possibly be. Had they any idea of the enormity of the earth?

Do I? I have spent time on three continents and a score of different islands, but what else is out there? A question perhaps for when I am back in isolation.

“He will be an orphan,” the man said to Jaroslav.

“That is more likely if both of you do not fight to defend him,” Jaroslav countered.

This was the most frequent petition- people who were scared of fighting. Gray did not blame them for being frightened. He hoped they would not have to fight and if the Imperial Defenders could not muster more than a few men, it would not come to that. But if it did, they had to be ready. The unspoken question in the air was always, what happens if we win?

Would the emperor truly concede? If not, how long until the next attack? The only positive outcome Gray could imagine was that the emperor would deem the village too costly to fight over and simply found a new settlement with access to the lake. But that would mean biting down on his pride, and based on Gray’s past experience with men and women in power, that did not seem likely.

“We understand that,” the woman said. “We were just hoping…”

“My wife and I watched him against the Imperial Defenders,” the husband said as his wife buried her face in his shoulder. “He has a skill we don’t possess. I know it’s hard for you to understand; you’re a natural warrior. I wish I had half your ability, but I don’t. And my wife is even less of a fighter. I don’t think adding her to the village’s defense will make much of a difference.”

The villagers were growing more savvy each day. Flattery and manipulation were gradually pushing sympathy aside. It was a real test for Jaroslav.

“Gray trusts me to make decisions that will protect the village. We have bows and arrows for those who struggle with hand-to-hand combat. But we need everyone.”

“Mention it to Gray, please,” the husband said after a moment of deliberation. “Enjoy your meal. And thank you.”

The couple walked past Gray who made no effort to hide that he had heard the conversation. Instead, he gave them a formal greeting and headed to his table before a conversation could begin.

“You handled them well,” Gray said, sitting down.

“Thank you.”

As if she had been waiting for his arrival, Lorina bounded across the room with two plates of food. “Let me know if you need more,” she said with a genuine smile.

Gray did not have time to give his thanks for Makani burst through the front door. “Gray! Jaroslav! Come quickly!”

Outside, she spoke frantically as she commanded them to follow her.

“It’s Olisha, she’s gone.”

“She disappeared? Has that happened before?” Gray called out, running to keep up.

“Not since she was young,” was the only reply Makani gave.

She led them across the town to Trounen’s home. The elderly man was kneeling down by the fireplace, stuffing kindling into a fire that had just come to life.

“Olisha is gone,” Makani told him.

“Who was watching her?” Trounen growled, throwing down the sticks and climbing to his feet.

“No one.”

“Dammit, Makani! It’s dark out. You know she needs to stay inside.”

“She doesn’t just wander off.”

The implication of that response froze the group.

“When did you last see her?” Trounen asked.

“Not since morning. Oh, no,” Makani said softly. She reached out to steady herself against Gray. “She said she would be going out with Lorina to hunt birds. But Lorina is in the tavern, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Jaroslav said.

“Makani, do you remember if Olisha left the village at any time since Gray arrived?”

“They’re using her,” Makani cried.

“When did she go out?” Trounen said sternly.

“She said she was hunting birds. The day before Harold was taken.”

Gray rubbed Makani’s back out of instinct, then pulled his hand away, doubting his intentions. “How much information could she reasonably tell them?” he asked.

Trounen answered, as Makani’s sobbing grew louder and more desperate. “The girl is simpleminded, but if you ask her a direct question, she can answer it accurately.”

“They’ll want to know what our physical defenses look like and what kinds of weapons we have. Even if she doesn’t know the full scope of what we’re planning, they will realize we plan to draw them toward choke points and batter them with arrows.”

“It’s not her fault, I know it isn’t,” Makani said, her voice muted through Gray’s coat.

“I don’t doubt that,” Trounen said. “She’s not capable of hatching a plan like this. They likely promised her something in return for her report. I wonder how long this has been going on.”

“What will they do with her now?”

Trounen shook his head. “They can’t send her back. They’ll know we would interrogate her to learn what questions they asked.”

“Even if they know what our general plan is, that doesn’t mean they have an option other than stepping into it,” Gray said.

Makani pounded a fist into Gray’s shoulder. “But what about Olisha?”

“We will have to hope for the best,” Trounen said. “I don’t want to seem callous, but we have other, more pertinent concerns now. The others will be increasingly distrustful. And they will question your allegiance, Makani. People are frightened, and you have looked after the girl since her parents died. They will suspect you.”

Makani’s sobbing continued as though she had not heard Trounen’s commentary.

Gray put his arm around Makani and stood up straighter. “Then they can come to me with their suspicions. Makani’s duties stay as they are.” He turned to Jaroslav. “If anyone raises doubts about Makani, you send them to me.”

“I will, sir.”

“Thank you, Gray,” was all that Trounen said. But Gray read much more into that statement. Gray knew what Trounen was thinking, and he was right.

This is all my fault.