Servants and Followers (The Legends of Arria, Volume 2) (14 page)

Brigga
did not understand, Brigga could not fully comprehend his pain, and
all of that time he had lived through, when she had lived just a
brief span of that time. She could only experience just a small
amount of time with him before she was gone
for good and he did not want to share that pain
with her. He wanted her to live for as long as possible without any
pain in her life, and he knew that it would be best for her to live
without him in her life. He still thought of her as one of the
children that he had told stories to, and he still wanted to
protect her from the dangers of the outside world.

A
cknowledging their
relationship in public would also have been catastrophic to their
reputations in town. The Old Man would no longer have been trusted
to tell his stories to the children, knowing that one of them had
grown up to be his lover, which was slightly disturbing, and Brigga
would have lived with the title of the Old Man’s lover, the bearer
of his child, for the rest of her life, with people glancing
askance at her, and alienating her from normal life. The Old Man
did not want to expose her to such ridicule. In the end, it was
better for her to be just a single mother, with a fatherless
daughter.

Nisa was
a complication that they had not intended to happen, but now that
it had happened, and he had gotten used to the situation, getting
to know his daughter, the Old Man was secretly glad of it. At least
there would be some reminder, for
a while at least, of his union with Brigga, one that might
outlast even him.

Once or twice, the Old Man thought that Brigga might
have noticed him, perched up on the roof of The Smiling Stallion
inn, if she had realized that she was being watched, but Brigga
continued folding up laundry, and carried it inside the inn,
without once looking up at him. He stayed, though, still thinking
about her, and saw what happened when Habala walked out.

Outside, Smidge was
mucking out the stables
…
great. She had been avoiding
Smidge for the past few days now, ever since the
fire
;
he might think her vulnerable, or something. She did not want
to get ambushed right now.

“
Habala. How are you
today?” Smidge asked, turning towards her.

“
Fine, Smidge,”
Habala said, turning away from him.

“
Habala,
wait
.
” He said, reaching out towards her, not minding that his
gloved hands had some horse dung on them. “I apologize for not
talking to you sooner.” She scoffed at him as he continued, “I
should have known that you and I would be busy these past couple of
days, and that you might have been avoiding me after what happened
with the fire
.
” He said, sidestepping her when
she was trying to get around him, “But I should have made the
effort to reach out to you sooner, and give my regard to you. I
want you to always know that you have me around to comfort you, if
you need it.”

“
Thank you, Smidge,
but I am fine,” She said, shaking her head. She almost wished she
could summon up the fire to burn him in that moment, but she
couldn’t harm him, not him. He was still her brother-in-law, after
all, Geda’s brother. “You have been of great help to us, these past
couple of days and almost every day, and I am grateful for that,
but please do not let this go on any further. Leave me alone.” She
pleaded.

“
Habala, don’t you
wish we could return to our glory days,” He said, clasping her
shoulders before she could protest, “When we were young and in
love, free from any cares and woes
?
” He said, trying to wrap his
arms around her.

“
Smidge, no.” She
said, recoiling from him and pushing him away from her. “I am tired
of hearing you talk to me this way. I don’t wish to go back to the
past because I don’t love you that way, not anymore, and maybe I
never have.” She said, looking down. “I may never have loved you
the way I love Geda, because that is true love, and that is not
what we had. We had passion and fire, but that was it. Geda will
always be the one for me. You were just the first.” She said,
looking up at Smidge. “I am sorry, but that is the way I feel. I am
sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise, but I am perfectly clear
about this: no. I don’t love you, I never have, and I never will,
so just get away from me, and leave me alone, or I will tell you
brother, and you don’t want Geda getting angry at you for touching
me without my consent!” She cried, and Smidge flinched. “I want
nothing more to do with you.” She said.

“
Habala, Basha and
Oaka are gone,” Smidge said, continuing on with words that chilled
her heart, and hardened her resolve, “And Geda
is
…
Geda is not going to last very long, the way he is going
these days. You will lose him if you are not careful, and then what
will you do? I will be willing and able to provide for you once I
inherit the inn, and then we can reconsider
.
”

“
No, Smidge, not even
then, not even if Geda were dead.” She said, crossing her arms and
glaring at him. “I cannot abide the thought of marrying you, or
being provided for by you, even if you were the last man on Earth.
I would go on my own way, if I were left alone in such a way
without my husband and sons, but I will not give up hope on my
family just yet. I will fight for them, care for them, and believe
in them until we are all reunited, either here on Earth or in the
afterlife. I bid you good day, Smidge,” She said, turning away from
him and heading back towards the inn before he could
retaliate.

She just couldn’t get
anywhere today, what with Smidge and Brigga in her
way
. W
ell, Brigga not so much, but Smidge was definitely in her
way, he was actively trying to stop her from leaving him. She just
wouldn’t stand for it, not anymore
. S
he was done with him, for good.
She would tell Geda the truth about what was happening here if
Smidge made another false move at her, but luckily, Smidge did
nothing more then. She was safe, for now.

The Old Man frowned
to himself, and shook his head, as he shrunk deeper into the
shadows of the roofline to avoid being spotted by Habala, walking
back towards the inn. Smidge always seemed to be up to no good
these days, getting in the way and interfering with everything, and
it worried him. He had dismissed Smidge a long time ago as someone
that he had no need worry about, as other people were the ones
responsible for some unfortunate events, and Smidge had just gotten
involved in them by accident. But now he was starting to reconsider
his decision, as Smidge was starting to show up again in the most
unusual, unlikeliest of places, which reminded the Old Man of the
past events that Smidge had been involved in, and just how culpable
was Smidge then for his actions?

Perhaps
he shared more of a burden of responsibility for his actions than
the Old Man had credited him for, and the Old Man had just
dismissed his culpability out of a misguided belief that Smidge was
just a brash young man who had strayed out of the fold, and would
be led back in by his older brother and by his older brother’s
wife, Habala. But then again, Smidge had always had feelings for
Habala, and he was jealous of his older brother Geda for inheriting
the inn and marrying the girl that he had loved, or at least
admired
, so perhaps the Old
Man should not have expected Smidge to follow their example when
Smidge coveted their position for himself. The Old Man had made a
mistake in the past when it came to Smidge, but he would not make
it again. He would keep his eyes on Smidge, and make sure that
Smidge didn’t step out of line.

As the
Old Man clambered over the roof of the Smiling Stallion inn, and
jumped to the roof of the building beside it, Brigga opened the
shutter of one of the guest bedroom windows on
the second floor a little wider. She watched him
go, and then glanced down to the stable yard. She had sensed that
she was being watched by the Old Man while she was folding up the
bed linen just before now, but she wasn’t certain about her
feelings, especially when they weren’t as enhanced as whatever
senses the Old Man had, and Smidge was in the stables, mucking out
the stalls not far away from her. He would certainly have suspected
that something was amiss with her if she had started looking up at
the roofline, or shouting out the Old Man’s name. She couldn’t give
away the Old Man’s secret like that, especially to
Smidge.

She
wasn’t certain about
Smidge,
especially the way that he looked at her, so slyly yet arrogantly
that it made her nervous about his intentions towards her, and
apparently he had gotten into some trouble in the past, around the
time that Habala had broken off her engagement with him and started
dating Geda. That was a long time ago, soon after Nisa was born,
and Brigga had still been seeing the Old Man then, although in
private, and they soon had broken off that engagement. The Old Man
had told her some of the details of Smidge’s awful behavior, and
Habala had told her the rest, and as far as Brigga could gather
from both accounts, there was no way that she would have ever
trusted Smidge again.

But
Habala had not known everything that the Old Man had known about,
and so Habala had trusted Smidge
enough to have him work at the inn, as Geda had suggested,
and Brigga did not dare say anything against Smidge, especially
since that might have revealed too much about the Old Man’s
involvement in those affairs. So Brigga had remained silent for all
of these years, trusting that Habala knew the best way to run her
life, and for the most part, nothing seemed to have gone wrong
between Smidge, Habala, and Geda as they took care of the inn, and
the boys Basha and Oaka had been born and grew up there. But now
that Basha and Oaka were gone, it seemed that life between Geda,
Habala, and Smidge had reverted back to the old dynamic of their
youth, which was not very healthy, and Habala was caught up in the
middle of it all.

Brigga
was worried about
her former
best friend, and even though Brigga had not really spoken to Habala
for years now, on friendly terms at least, she still did not want
Habala to face Smidge’s wrath. Which led Brigga to question what
she could do to help Habala, and distract Smidge, possibly to find
out more about Smidge’s motivations and intentions, which led her
to contemplate doing something horrible and disgusting that she
could not stand, and yet it might be her only choice when she was
not like the Old Man or her daughter, able to sneak around and spy
on others like a cat in the night. She had very few options and
very few abilities when it came to deceit and spying, and so she
had to make do with what she had, may the gods forgive
her.

Kala’s ghost stared
out the window of the Old Man’s hut at the forest outside as the
Old Man entered. “Lilacs.” She murmured to herself, shaking her
head. “Those were the last flowers he left at my grave. That’s not
what I wanted.” She said.

“
What is it?” The Old Man asked,
staring at her. “What do you want? What are you doing
here?”

“
Basha has the Black Sword.” She
said, sighing to herself.

“
What? Are you sure?” He asked,
staring at her.

“
I
am
positive; I felt it on the
other side. We all did.” Kala said, closing her eyes. “It was like
a breath of fresh air in the land of death. It was brief, but
stirring, the tiger of light is stirring. He lives. We all felt it
and I knew it was my son. I thought that you would want to know.”
She said, about to fade away and return to the other
side.

“
Wait a minute,” The Old Man said,
raising his hand.

She brightened a little bit, lingering as she asked,
“What is it?”

“
Will you tell me what it is
like…dying and being dead?” He asked.

Kala frowned. “You have not asked me this question
before.” She said.

He hesitated. “I have been afraid to ask you this
question before now, I suppose, but now I am wondering.” He
said.

She sighed. “Dying
and being dead…well, speaking from my own experience, first the
world fades away from your eyes, bit by bit and piece by piece.
Then you start to fade away…it is a bit like falling asleep, except
that you lose everything, in an excruciatingly slow manner. Bit by
bit and piece by piece in your body, heart, and mind, all thoughts,
feelings, and sensations are ripped away from you and you are left
with nothing in the end except your final breath, and then even
that is gone. But something yet remains.”

“
What is it?” The Old Man asked,
spellbound for once in his long, long lifetime, the audience
instead of the storyteller.

“
It is
quite literally nothingness, a small spark or flame, barely
noticeable or recognizable to any who still live, just a single
molecule of…infinity, one might say.” Kala said. “A soul or an idea
of one, perhaps, that cannot be weighed, measured, or judged,
though that has yet to be determined by me.”

“
No judgment?” The Old Man
asked.

She frowned.
“Perhaps there is a system in place somewhere in death that does
judge or determine what happens to souls, but I have yet to find
it. Perhaps I do not want to find it.” She remarked. “I might be
judged unwillingly so and be found wanting. I have done some ill
things in my life, not as bad as some, but not as good as so many
others.” She remarked.