Call of the Herald (3 page)

"It was an abominable tactic and one I hope
is never eclipsed. Drawn to the statues like moths to a flame, the
faithful and war-weary congregated in enormous numbers around the
likenesses of their gods. All but a few of the statues detonated,
resulting in cataclysmic explosions that leveled entire cities,
killing countless souls. The toxic aftermath debilitated those not
killed by the initial blasts, and most died soon thereafter. And so
began mankind's darkest age, a time known as the Purge," Master
Edling continued, his unvarying cadence threatening to put Catrin,
and most of the other students, into a deep sleep.

The snake, which Catrin now saw was an
olive-green tree snake, was lured from Chase's pouch by the
stillness, its slender head and neck poked from the pouch, looking
like a bean pod with eyes. Catrin held her breath as it slithered
forward and coiled itself around the chair leg. Peten noticed
Catrin's sideways glances and gave her a snide look, tossing his
long, blond hair over his shoulders.

With his muscular build, strong jaw, and
piercing blue eyes, he cast a striking figure, but his attitude and
ego made him the least attractive person Catrin had ever met. She
felt little pity for him as the snake continued to follow its
instinct, which was to climb. Peten was oblivious to its presence
and continued to look bored, casting his own glances to get the
attention of Roset Gildsmith.

The snake slithered up the slats on the back
of his chair; it brushed against his curls, and still he remained
unaware. He shifted in his seat, as if sensing the stares of
Catrin, Chase, and Osbourne, and turned his head to glare at them.
As he did, his eyes met those of the snake, and he shrieked. His
high-pitched scream and sudden movement alarmed the snake, and it
struck, biting him on his nose. Catrin knew the snake was not
venomous, but Peten obviously knew nothing of the sort.

He leaped from his chair, sending his desk
and the snake flying. Charging from the hall, he knocked Roset and
another girl from their chairs. He showed no concern for anyone in
the hall, and it was obvious his only care was for his own
safety.

Master Edling stormed to the back of the
hall, fuming, and snatched the agitated snake from the ruins of
Peten's chair. After releasing it at the base of a tree in the
courtyard, he returned, pushing Peten before him, forcing the
shaken young man to return the desks to order.

Chase's eyes danced with glee, and Osbourne
let a giggle slip. The townies and Master Edling glared at them
with eyes like daggers. Catrin sat quietly, hoping the situation
would somehow improve, but instead it worsened.

"Peten Ross, you are a coward and a boor,"
Roset said with a haughty look. "Do not aspire to speak to me
again." She turned smugly away, her jaw stuck out in defiance.

Chase seemed to think things were going very
well, but Catrin could see Peten's fury rising, his embarrassment
fueling his desire for retribution. How Chase could not see
mounting danger was a mystery to Catrin. Perhaps he was simply
caught up in his own thirst for revenge.

Master Edling concluded his lecture and
dismissed the class curtly. Catrin was just glad to have the lesson
over and tried to flow out with the rest of the crowd, but Master
Edling barred her path.

"Miss Volker, I would have a word with you,"
he said, and he clearly did not wish to compliment her.

"Yes sir, Master Edling, sir," Catrin replied
softly. "I'm sorry I was late, sir."

"I'll have no excuses from you. It is your
responsibility to arrive before the appointed time. If you cannot
do so, then I recommend you do not attend at all. Since you wasted
my time at the beginning of class, it is only fair I waste your
time now. Be seated," he said, and Catrin slumped into the chair
nearest the door, anxiously waiting for her punishment to be
concluded.

* * *

Outside the lesson hall, Chase ducked into a
darkened recess and waited for Osbourne. Roset came first, and she
cast him a haughty glance, but he was grateful that she said
nothing. Using the darkness for cover, he held his breath as Peten
stormed by, followed by a mob of agitated townies. Minda and Celise
walked by, and Osbourne seemed to be trying to hide behind them.
Hoping no one noticed, Chase grabbed Osbourne by the shirt and
dragged him into the alcove. Osbourne let out a small yelp before
he realized it was Chase who had grabbed him, and he looked over
his shoulder more than once.

"Looks like Edling held Catrin after class,"
Chase said.

"I told you he looked boiled," Osbourne said,
but there was a tremble in his voice, and he looked nervously over
his shoulder. "Are you going to wait around for Cat?"

"I can't. I promised my dad I'd help with the
afternoon deliveries."

"I can't either," Osbourne said. "I've chores
to do, and I should probably study for the test we have coming
up."

"Bah, who needs to study?" Chase asked with a
grin. "Just remember everything Edling says; that's all."

Osbourne shook his head. "That may work for
you, but my father'll tan my hide if I bring home bad marks. I'd
better get Patches saddled and get going, or I'm going to run out
of light."

Chase peeked around the corner before walking
back into the light, half expecting to find Peten and the rest of
the townies waiting for him, but the stables were eerily quiet.
Only Patches remained in her stall, and Chase stayed with Osbourne
while he got her saddled.

"Never seen everyone clear out so quickly,"
Chase said.

"I'm starting to think the snake was a bad
idea," Osbourne said as he tightened the girth. "Feels like I've
got squirrels in my guts. You don't think they'll do anything to
Cat, do you?"

"You worry too much," Chase said, but he
secretly wondered if Osbourne was right. It seemed strange that
Peten and the others had left so quickly, and letting Osbourne and
Catrin travel home alone suddenly seemed like a very bad idea.
There was nothing he could do about it, though, no way to take back
what was already done, and he tried to drive the worry from his
mind. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

"I hope you're right," Osbourne said as he
mounted. Patches, who was a well-mannered mare, must have sensed
Osbourne's nervousness, for she danced around the stable, her ears
twitching as she spun. Osbourne soothed her with a hand on her
neck, and she trotted away with her tail tucked. "I'll see you
tomorrow," Osbourne said with a wave.

"Be careful," Chase said, betraying his own
fears, and Osbourne rode away looking more nervous than ever.

Checking around every corner as he went,
Chase made his way to the mill. At each turn he expected to find
the townies waiting, and their absence only increased his anxiety.
"I wish they would just get on with it," he mumbled to himself as
he passed the market.

When he saw his father waiting with the wagon
already loaded, though, he forgot his fears. They had enough work
to keep them until nightfall, and he would have time to think of
little else.

* * *

After sitting far longer than needed to make
up the time she had missed, Catrin began to wonder if Master Edling
had forgotten she was there. He was completely engrossed in his
text, and she was hesitant to interrupt. She tried to be patient,
but she desperately wanted to talk to Chase, and she shifted in her
seat constantly.

"You are dismissed," he said suddenly without
looking up.

"Thank you, Master Edling; it won't happen
again, sir," Catrin said as she rose to leave.

"It had better not. And do not think for a
moment that I'm unaware of your involvement in today's disruption;
you can pass that along to your cousin as well," he said, and
Catrin did not bother to deny it, knowing it would do no good.

She walked quickly to the Watering Hole,
arriving to find Strom busy with the mounts of two nobles. She
waited in the shadows, not wanting the nobles to complain about
riffraff hanging around the stables; it had happened before, and
she didn't want to impose on Strom. Once the nobles made their
instructions abundantly clear, they strolled into the Watering
Hole, and Catrin emerged from her hiding place.

"Thanks for keeping out of sight," Strom
said. "Salty's in the last stall. You can saddle him yourself,
can't you?" he asked with a smirk.

"I think I can manage, though the task is
beneath me," Catrin replied, and her sarcasm brought a chuckle from
Strom. Her tack had been cleaned and hung neatly outside the stall;
he had treated her horse and gear as if they were his own, and she
appreciated the gesture. Salty gave her no trouble, being aware he
was on his way home, where his feed bucket waited. Strom was still
attending to the nobles' horses and tack when she mounted.

"Thank you, Strom. I appreciate your help,"
she said, waving as she left.

"Don't mention it, Cat; just try not to make
a habit of it," he replied with a wink and returned to his
work.

Salty needed little prompting, and he broke
into a trot as soon as they left town. Catrin turned him onto the
wagon trail that meandered toward her home, hoping Chase would meet
her there. She had expected to find him waiting at the Watering
Hole, and his absence concerned her. She was tempted to push Salty
to a gallop but resisted the urge. The trail was muddy and slick,
and speed would only put her and Salty at risk. Her father and
Benjin had warned her about such behavior, and she heeded their
advice.

Engrossed in her thoughts, she let Salty
cover the familiar distance without her input, but as she
approached the woods, she heard someone cry out. Urging Salty
forward, she scanned the trees for signs of trouble. Through the
foliage, she saw flashes of movement in a clearing, and harsh
laughter echoed around her. When she saw Patches, Osbourne's mare,
wandering through the trees, still saddled and bridled, she nearly
panicked. Osbourne would never leave his horse in such a state, and
she knew he was in trouble.

After jumping from the saddle, she tied Salty
to a nearby tree and approached Patches, who recognized her and
cooperated as Catrin tied her to another tree. Meanwhile, she heard
more muffled cries. Running as fast as she could toward the nearby
sound, she burst into the clearing. Osbourne was near the center on
his hands and knees. Blood flowed freely from his nose and mouth,
and he clutched his side. Peten Ross, Carter Bessin, and Chad Macub
were on horseback and appeared to have be taking turns riding past
Osbourne, beating him with their wooden staves.

"Stop this madness!" Catrin shouted as she
ran to Osbourne's side. She crouched over his body, hoping to
protect him yet knowing she could not; she was overmatched. He
whimpered beneath her, spitting blood through his ruptured
lips.

"Out of the way, farm girl, or you'll share
this one's fate. He needs a lesson in showing respect to his
betters," Peten said as he spurred his horse. As he swept past, he
swung his staff in a powerful arc, landing a solid blow on Catrin's
shoulder. She barely had time to recover from his attack before
Carter approached. His mount was blowing hard from the workout,
sweat frothing around saddle and bridle alike.

His staff swung wide, striking her on her
hip, but she barely felt the pain. As Peten wheeled his horse and
dug in his heels, his eyes were those of a madman. He seemed intent
on killing her and Osbourne, and Catrin became convinced her death
approached. Peten was a well-muscled athlete who had trained in the
jousts for as long as he could ride. He would not miss his target
again, and her defiance clearly enraged him, leaving little chance
of mercy.

Time slowed, and as she cried out in fear,
her voice sounded hollow and strange in her ears. Still Peten came,
aiming his mount so close that she feared they would be trampled.
He did not run them down, though; instead he brought his horse just
close enough to provide a clear shot at Catrin. She watched in
horror as his staff swung directly at her head, and she saw her own
terrified reflection in its highly polished surface as it blocked
out the rest of the world. Intense sadness overwhelmed her as she
prepared to die. Though she hoped Osbourne would survive the
encounter, it seemed unlikely.

In the next instant, Catrin's world was
forever changed. Her body shuddered, and a sound louder than
thunder ripped through the clearing. She tried to make sense of
what she saw as the world seemed to fly away from her. Everything
took on a yellowish tint, which faded to blackness as she crumbled
to the ground.

* * *

Nat Dersinger turned his nose to the wind and
inhaled deeply. The wind carried the smell of misfortune, and he
had learned better than to ignore his instincts. Despite the fact
that he'd caught no fish, he pulled in his nets. Looking out at the
clear skies, broken by only fluffy white clouds that seemed frozen
in time, he wondered if he was just being silly, but the ill
feeling persisted and grew more intense with every passing
moment.

With a sense of urgency, he raised his sails
and guided his small craft back to the harbor. Along the way he
passed other fishing vessels, but no one waved or shouted out in
greeting, as they did with other fishermen. Most just cast Nat
suspicious glances, others glared at him until they were lost from
sight. Nat tried not to let any of it bother him, but he soon
realized he was grinding his teeth and his hands were clenched into
fists. Too many times he'd been treated as an outcast, as if he
were not even human. With a long sigh, he released his frustration
and concentrated on avoiding the scores of hidden rock formations
that flanked the harbor entrance.

At the docks, he received more strange
looks--partly because he was back long before most of the other
fishermen would return, and partly because he brought no fish to
the cleaning tables, but mostly it was because he was Nat
Dersinger, son of a madman. Most would rather see him dead or
exiled; others simply tolerated him. There were few people he
trusted and fewer still who trusted him. It was a lonely and
unforgiving existence, but he had to believe it was all for a
purpose, some grand design beyond his ability to perceive or
understand. He let his mind be consumed by the possibilities, and
he entered an almost dreamlike state; nothing around him seemed
real, as if he walked in a place somewhere between this life and
the great unknowable that lay beyond.