Colin Tabor - The Fall of Ossard

I laughed, a harsh sound in my upset. “The Heletians only have one god, Krienta!”

“Yes, they don’t call Baimio a god because of their dogma, they call him a saint, but they raise him above all others by naming him the son of Krienta, their creator. Well, once he was mortal. We’ve heard their Church’s tales, and not all of them are lies. He came into his power during the fall of Bar-Mor, the mountain city of the giants.”

Was he comparing me to Saint Baimio? “Sef, this is crazy…”

“And the gargoyle god of Dorloth, she arose from the fall of Quersic Quor of the Lae Velsanan’s Second Dominion of Kalraith.”

“Sef, this is too much! Some of what you say makes sense, but linking it to me? I don’t want to be a part of it. You’re saying that I’m going to profit from the death of the city.”

“I’m not saying you’re responsible. I’m just saying that as an avatar all that’s going on in the city might see you awakened.”

“No, it can’t be true!”

“Look at the people who’ve followed you here. Look at me!”

“What do you mean?”

“Juvela, I’m a priest of Kave with my soul and service vowed to him, yet here I am serving you! I want to. No, I need to! To be here to help, to see you through this.”

“I don’t need your help,” my voice broke as I spoke, disturbed by my surging emotions. Was I having such an effect on people? What a sickening thought, yet the courtyard stood full of proof.

He shook his head, “Juvela, you must understand; myself and those in the courtyard follow you because our souls demand it. Your mere presence has broken our old allegiances and replaced them with something new.”

I was frightened by his words – and that they stank of an uncomfortable truth.

Damn it, what did it matter?

What mattered was that the good people in Ossard survived the coming turmoil – and we had more chance of doing it together. I took a deep breath and cleared my throat. “I’m changed, it’s true, but all I can say is that I’ll try to do the right thing. I’ve heard you, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

He nodded and got back to his feet as he gave me a grin.

I hugged him, sensing his love and devotion. Those feelings had been a part of my life for so long. They gave me courage as they flooded me with reassurance. I giggled, for a moment again that little girl who loved his stories of adventure and his bawdy songs.

He chuckled and said, “You should go to them now.”

I nodded and turned for the courtyard. Despite the moment of warmth, it seeped away as quickly as it had come, dragged under by thoughts of a city dying so that I might be a god.

They waited in silence, some standing around the edge of the courtyard while others sat on the cobbles. Kurt was amongst them. He gave me a knowing smile and a quick nod.

I walked to the centre of the yard, it ruddily lit by the flaring amber glow reflected from the pall hanging above. Again I hadn’t planned what to say, but this wasn’t a time for flowery speeches.

I looked about at their faces, taking confidence in their souls’pure taste. Whatever I might be, at least I knew that these people were good and true. Finally my gaze came to rest on Sef where he stood in a doorway. I said, “I want to welcome you to my home, though it seems we’ve already outgrown it.”

Some of them laughed.

“I want to speak to you of many things, but one foremost: Of working to keep each other safe in a city falling apart…”

I talked to them for a good while, including some of what Felmaradis had told me in hushed Flet. As I spoke others joined us, shown in by Sef. Where they came from I didn’t know, yet their purity also shone through.

It was the beginning of something; it was undeniable.

There was good left in the city, maybe not enough to save it, but certainly enough worth saving.

I spent the next part of the evening organising the household to cope with so many guests. The arrangements were temporary and we all knew it. One way or another we wouldn’t be here in a few more nights, for in time Newbank would also be consumed by the fighting.

Before long bedrooms became dormitories, along with storerooms, and much of the living space. The kitchen bustled with the making of bread and the stewing of broth to serve close to a hundred. The cellar was emptied and aired, and then prepared as a serving space for meals. Only the stables remained free on the far side of the courtyard. If I had to, I’d give them over for more sleeping space, but for now I planned to use them as a store for what we gathered for our escape.

Amongst all this activity I watched two Heletians struggle to lift a heavy chest; one stumbled as they carried it, seeing them drop it after only a few steps. It fell to the wooden floor with a great crash to leave a gouge across the boards. Mortified, the men cried out.

I forced a smile and told them not to worry. Inwardly I shuddered as I thought of what Pedro would’ve said. Still, my husband’s biggest stir wouldn’t come of scratches on the floor or from scores of strange guests; it would be because of the changes wrought in me, and my unexpected fate.

People settled in as best they could as I retreated to the only sanctuary that remained, my bedroom. I asked for Baruna, Marco, and Sef to join me. There was still much to discuss.

As we gathered, I said, “Please sit.” And gestured to the bed.

Sef and Marco hesitated with embarrassment.

I laughed. “I think we’re beyond polite niceties, please, there’s nowhere else for us to speak.” The two men looked to each other before finally sitting down. In the meantime I pulled across a stool for Baruna. She gestured for me to take it, but I waved her offer away. I felt the need to pace.

Sef said, “So where do we begin?”

I looked from him to Baruna and Marco. “Well, we’ve all met this day, but neither Sef nor I know much about yourselves. Why don’t you share with us how you came to be here?”

Shyly, Baruna looked to each of us, her nerves showing.

Marco offered, “I’ll go first if you’d like?”

Baruna shook her head. “Please, I need to tell my story, and now that I’m given the chance I feel I have to grab it.”

Marco nodded.

She took a deep breath. “My life started simply enough. I was raised by my family, large and loving, deep in the valleys where we lived in a poor farming hamlet.” And her eyes softened along with her nerves. “You know the sort, it struggling on amidst the ruins of an old and abandoned mining town. There wasn’t a lot of good land up that way, just slivers alongside the river, but it was enough. Besides, those abandoned towns might have run out of silver and been poor in farmland, but they’re still rich in one thing; well-crafted buildings. Mining towns grow quickly and die faster, but while they live their hearts know how to beat. Those old stone halls, taverns, and merchant houses just sit there waiting for families to come and warm them.

“When my family arrived there a few generations back they managed to settle into one of the larger buildings that needed some work. It was a great home, solid against the valley winters, and one envied by many of our neighbours after we’d re-roofed and mended it.

“It’s much the same across the Northcountry; hundreds of poor farming villages, some born-again mining settlements, and a few small towns – all there to serve this city’s hungry markets.”

She smiled with her memories. “Growing up in such a place, in our big stone hall, surrounded by terraced fields while tending our goats was a blessing.”

She paused to look at each of us, her eyes now sharp; she was going to share her pain. “But, it ended.

“One summer, my grandmother took sick with a fever, it wasted her body and filled her lungs. She died after a long season of agony, one where the sickness seemed to peak and then fade, only to come back stronger before finally dragging her away. Yet the fever hadn’t finished with us. My twin brothers and mother also fell ill. They tried to fight it off, but also failed. It left my father, a brother, and myself to bury them.