6. Rourk
Chapter six
Rourk
G alene spends the next three days making my life a miserable hell.
She does everything she can to make me uncomfortable, but won’t affect my health. It seems she’s petty enough to, just as her father promised, overspice my tea, but never to go far enough to ensure I might have to stay a day longer than necessary. From tea to serving me cold dinners to wrapping my bandages extra tight to “accidentally” dumping an entire bottle of stinging antiseptic all over my wounds, Galene seems intent on torturing me.
Besides fending off as much of Galene’s torment as possible, those days are mostly spent recovering and learning how to walk again. My strength is slowly returning and I’ve been able to get to know some people in the Shanti Tribe. I’m still getting used to not calling them Wildmen. Everyone has been nice and welcoming to me so far. Everyone but Galene, who seems intent on forcing me out with vicious glares and sighs. Although many others are either distantly mistrustful or forcibly polite, likely not wanting to anger the foreigner .
While I still sleep and rest in the small hut I’d awoken in, she no longer comes to check on me or make me a healing tea. Which suits me fine, as it’s too exhausting to be around someone who hates me so much.
It was a shock to learn that an Oathlander had killed her mother and unborn brother. That was over ten years ago, just beyond the Oathlands border, but I don’t recall ever hearing of such a thing happening. Aldus told me they had been dressed as bandits in weathered cloaks, like some of the feral savages known to traverse the Wildlands. The savages whom we Oathlanders had called Wildmen. We hadn’t known there was also a large community out in the Wildlands. Good people who had villages all around the wilderness. I wonder if The Kingdom folk know of the Shanti People.
During one of my trips to bathe in the riverbank beyond the woods, I notice how heavy my stubble is when I look into the water’s reflection. It’s practically a full beard at this point, but I don’t mind the look. I do mind how much weight I’ve lost, however, and how weak I still am. But I’ve been making progress and only need one crutch now, and can mostly walk unaided on even ground, if I take it slow and steady. I feel like a child learning to walk for the first time.
Aldus has proved to be a gracious host and has been happy to show me around and introduce me to more people, and share insights into the ways of his people. Now, knowing that an Oathlander had killed his wife and unborn child, I have to wonder if he is putting on a false front. There could be an ulterior motive for his hospitality. But I don’t sense any ill intention from him. I tell myself that isn’t reason enough to fully trust anyone.
Leila finds me coming out of the woods after bathing. My shirt is in my hands and my baggy pants are partially wet from the water dripping off my bare torso. Her eyes roam my chest as she pauses, likely noting the history of scars on my upper body. She gives me a small wave.
She has a strong build for a woman of thirty years, with broad shoulders and strong-looking arms. Her dark hair is similar to Galene’s but cut shorter to brush against her shoulders. Her vibrant blue eyes have some green in them, which is easier to see in the bright sunlight.
“I was just coming to look for you,” she says. “We have a great amount of fruit that needs separating. Have you ever de-seeded an orangeberry?”
“Not professionally,” I say. That earns me a smirk.
“How about picking green beans?” she says. “If you’re available, I figure we’d put you to some work.”
“Let me check my schedule.” I stop before her and take a moment to look around. Birds chirp in a nearby tree. A warm breeze blows over us. “Would you look at that? I’m free right now.”
She smiles and nods, and I follow her down a path. She walks slowly for me to keep up with her, using my crutch on the gravelly, uneven ground. We make small talk until a question comes to my mind.
“Your boys are wonderful,” I begin. “Their father is away from the village? I don’t think I’ve met him yet. ”
“My Geralt was struck by the crops disease,” she tells me, so casually she could be speaking about the weather. “It’s been… almost five years now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t think I know about this crops disease.”
“It has nothing to do with crops. They just thought it did back in the olden days, and the name stuck. It’s an airborne sickness that some of us are susceptible to. A deficiency in our blood, or something we’re simply born with. Anyway, it was a brief illness, mercifully.”
“That must have been hard, raising the boys on your own.”
She shrugs and nods. “I’ve had help from everyone. Here, we all look out for each other. We all want to better ourselves by bettering others. That’s our way of life.”
“I… lost my wife to an illness,” I say.
She turns to me with raised brows. “I didn’t know you were married.”
“A lifetime ago. She caught the flu and couldn’t recover. We did everything we could, but the illness worked through her swiftly.” The memories still sting, but I’m no longer gutted by them. I can now remember her fondly instead of the heart shattering grief that swallowed me for years.
Leila is frowning. “I’m so sorry.”
I leave out the part about me having a daughter. I wouldn’t want them to trace me back to my real self, or risk May’s safety by telling these people of her existence. I don’t even know why I told Leila of my late wife.
“I applaud your way of helping each other,” I say, breaking the silence. “That is the opposite way to those in the Kingdom. There, they are all out for themselves, stepping over each other to be in the highest tower. To have the most coin.”
Leila gives me a sideways look. “Are you sure about that? I mean, you had your preconceptions about us. Maybe you just need to look closer at the Kingdom folk to see them better.”
“They launched an attack on our land just a few weeks ago. We’ve been at war for centuries. We’ve come too far for any peace.”
Leila’s eyes flash with humor. “This is a new world. Full of magic and unknown wonder. Who knows? That’s all I’m saying, anyway.”
I nod. “You have a point.”
She has is good height, not too short and not too tall. And I find myself drawn to her amiable air. In my experience, it’s rare to find an easy conversationalist like Leila. But I don’t tell her that.
“Your walking is getting better,” she says, pointing with her chin.
It’s then I realize I haven’t been using my crutch. I don’t know how long I’ve been walking without it, but the moment I see I’m not using it, my balance tilts and I sway. Leila catches me in her arms before I fully go off balance.
We pause in each other’s arms for a moment, our faces close together. Her hair smells like flowers and freshly cut grass. She smiles and steps away as I regain the support of the crutch.
We keep going to the workbenches where a few people are busy preparing fruits and vegetables. I’ve heard that the fish recently caught is at risk of going bad, and so tonight they have decided to have a large feast for the entire village.
I get to work, happy to have something useful to do.
I’m finding that the Shanti People are a very hard-working bunch. They pride themselves on being productive members of their village. Speaking to some of the others preparing the fruits and vegetables, I learn that there is another tribe of Shanti People on the coastline of the northern continent, though the two have not communicated for years now.
“We are all Shanti,” an elderly woman says. I think her age is close to a hundred.
“What does that mean?”
She studies me for a long moment, pondering. “It means that the Shanti are the oldest tribe, the oldest society in the world. The oldest that still remains, anyway.”
“That’s not what the history books say,” I reply, confused.
“Do you know what is so fun about books?” She asks me. “Any old fool can write whatever they’d like, and in a few generations, everyone will think it is so.” She gives me a sad smile. “Not everything we learn is truth.”
“But I’m supposed to believe this is?”
“Think for a moment. What do I have to gain from lying to an Oathlander who will be gone in a few days? And what was to gain from an entire population of people believing otherwise?”
I don’t know the answer, but her words settle into my bones, nevertheless.
Movement from the pathway between the tents catches my eye. Three young girls are peeking out from around a corner, watching me. They look to be barely out of their teens, if that. They giggle when I notice them and hurry away, shoving each other and laughing.
I shake my head.
That night, I sit by the campfire and enjoy a meal with a dozen or so of the villagers. They have prepared a rabbit and potato stew with green beans and fresh herbs. Their herbs also include some crushed flowers for flavor. They seem to eat flowers with almost every meal. I’m surprised at how flavorsome the simple ingredients of the stew are.
Aldus is sitting beside me and has been telling me about his day tending to the garden behind his tent. He had taken his grandsons out to a nearby field to catch firebugs earlier, so he’s more than happy to be resting and eating now.
A bottle of wine is being passed around and we’ve been filling our clay cups as it reaches us. The first sip of the red wine hits me like a punch in the face, which makes a few of them laugh. I soon find that the homemade wine of the Shanti People is fragrant and considerably stronger than I am used to.
“I’ve never seen the stars like this before,” I tell them.
It is a clear night and with little light beyond the campfire, the heavens are clear for us to witness. A sheet of glowing stars is overhead, more than I’ve ever seen. Some even have a shade of red, blue, or green to their light. The more I look, the more my eyes adjust and the more faint stars and clusters I can make out. I’m overwhelmed at how vast the star field is .
“Your buildings are too close together and block out much of the sky,” a robust man around my age says from across the fire.
“Not as bad as in the Kingdom,” I say, “but yes, we have enough to hide this expansive view each night.”
Magdalena, the daughter of an elder, cocks her head. “You compare yourself favorably to the Kingdom many times. Are you aware of this?”
I think about that. “Old habits,” I admit.
Gazing at the stars, I spot a familiar constellation. “Do you know the names of the constellations?” I ask, pointing up. “That one is the Shield.”
Aldus nods. “We call it the Shovel.”
“Ah, yes,” I say. “It resembles the shape of a shovel, as well.”
A woman with a blanket draped over her shoulders points up. “What do you call that one?”
I find the collection of stars she means. “That’s the Warrior,” I say. At their questioning looks, I add, “You see the shape of a man holding a sword.”
It takes me a moment to explain what I’m seeing, having to point out the brightest of the stars sweeping across the sky. It turns out they know it as the Chair, as it takes the form of a high-backed chair, but they don’t include two stars that make up the Warrior.
An older man with a bushy white mustache nods knowingly. “Interesting. Your take on the stars often involves war imagery.”
I’ve never thought of it like that before. “We have one called the rabbit.” I try to find it but can’t see it. “It’s by the one called…” I pause. “The dagger.” I smile at them. “Perhaps you’re right.”
I take a spoonful of stew and savor its warmth and flavor. It feels like the first proper meal I’ve had in weeks. As the days have been passing, I’ve slowly begun to feel my strength returning, and my appetite has come back with it.
A red-haired woman points up. “I think that one looks like a flame. Maybe we should name a new constellation.”
“You would think it looks like a flame,” someone says.
Another adds, “You think we should name it after you, huh?”
Aldus leans closer to me. “Yelena has the ability to summon fire magic.”
“That explains the hair,” I say.
“Actually, the hair came first,” the woman, Yelena, says. “It was just a coincidence, I think.” She has more of a naturally spoken accent to my ears, and less of the thick, clipped way of speaking that many others in the village have.
I risk another sip of wine and ask, “Are there many here who discovered magical abilities?”
Yelena shrugs. “Only… ten, is it?”
“An even dozen,” Aldus corrects. “We don’t know how much of the overall population discovered new abilities, but it has been a small number within us.
I think that’s around ten percent of the Shanti People’s village, and I wonder if that percentage extends to the rest of the world .
They tell me of some of the abilities awakened. Someone could heighten their senses to see far into the distance, hear the lowest of sounds, and pick out specific smells in the air. Another could control the flow of an open body of water, which would account for how well their fishing had gone the other day. Someone could summon balls of lightning, although they were intent on not using that ability after they’d almost killed their parents. Someone was thought to communicate with animals, although they were still exploring and defining that ability. I’d already seen the one who could fly, although I don’t think I’ve met them in person yet.
“Milly’s son claims to have seen a dragon the other day,” Aldus says. “Out across the Pellworts Fields.”
They seem to believe that the boy must have been mistaken, as no one else had seen it. But it was true that many new creatures and animals had been showing up these past two weeks. I’d seen more variety in that short time alone than I have in my whole life.
The older man with the bushy mustache finishes a mouthful of stew and says, “There is a family of small fairies living in the woods around the back there.”
I can’t help but smile and shake my head. It’s a lot to take in and I’m still adjusting to being in a world where magic exists, and is quickly becoming commonplace.
“How about yourself, Aldus?” Magdalena asks. “How’s your magical training going?”
I raise my brows at Aldus.
He shrugs sheepishly and says to me, “I can only summon light from my hands. If I really try. It is nothing fancy. ”
“It’s a hot light,” Magdalena says.
“Not as impressive as fire,” Yelena mutters.
“It’s nothing fancy, and has no use,” Aldus says. “Unless you’re out at night with no light to see by. But even then, I can’t summon it at will.”
I look at him with new eyes. “You must have a magical lineage,” I say.
He shrugs again and looks away dismissively. “As far back as I know with my family, we have been nothing but dull and ordinary. So I was as surprised as anyone else to learn of my ability.”
The conversation shifts to the duties in the village tomorrow, and the current state of their community. It’s almost like a town hall meeting. My head begins to feel hot and I think I’ve had too much of the wine. I’m surprised to see my cup is empty now.
Eventually, we decide to withdraw for the night. I have my bedding still in the hut in which I had awoken, which has become my temporary home. The hut that Galene has stayed clear from for days now.
The man with the bushy mustache, whom I learn is named Yovin, walks beside me as we leave the dwindling campfire. A chill has developed in the night air that makes me shiver.
“You are an interesting one, young man,” Yovin says. He stands almost two feet shorter than me, though he has a large and commanding presence. I judge him to be around his seventieth year, but his bright eyes gleam with youthful mischief.
“I’ve been called many things in my day,” I tell him. “Interesting is not near the top of the list. ”
“I can see that you are,” the old man says with a knowing look. “I sense a grand purpose within you. You are destined for great things. I know it. And you were brought to us for a reason. I know that, also.”
I’m not quite sure what he means, but I accept his words and thank him. I catch him stopping and watching me as I walk away to my hut. Every now and then, I get a feeling that I’m missing something, and that I should not be trusting these people as much as I have been. A feeling that tells me I should plan to leave as soon as my legs can carry me enough away. And this evening, that feeling is very strong.
It takes me a long while to fall asleep, and it isn’t until nearby sounds stir me awake that I realize I have drifted to sleep. A woman screams in the night. Heavy footsteps and grunts mix with the growing panic spreading through the village.
I know the sounds, and my heart pumps with adrenaline. I rush out to see my fears are real. Dark figures in heavy coats are rushing through the village, waving clubs and spears and chasing people down. A fire has begun to burn through a tent.
The Shanti Tribe is under attack.