The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy (61 page)

“One afternoon, there was an accident. Nine of my team died in a rockslide. My youngest brother, Mallin, was one of them.”

“Oh, Tobias,” muttered Kenders. “I am so sorry.”

He nodded once, mumbling, “Thank you.” He remained quiet a few moments before sitting tall in his saddle and taking a deep breath. “An inquiry turned up negligence on the overseer’s part. Me. I was supposed to have checked the stakes supporting a load-wall prior to the day’s work. I had not. Some of those stakes gave way, letting a pile of stone tumble down onto…” Trailing off, he turned his head away from her, staring eastward.

“That does not make you a murderer.”

Facing Kenders, he said, “The families of those who perished disagreed, dear. They demanded the custodian charge me, and he did so. Had I been found guilty, I would have been sent to the stockades.”

Her voice full of disbelief, Kenders asked, “Over an accident?”

“Ah, but according to Boroughs’ law, it was no accident. I was a criminal. A murderer.”

“Nundle claimed the Five Boroughs had almost no crime.”

A dry and bitter chuckle burst from Tobias.

“Of course there isn’t. Not when punishment is disproportionately ruthless to the offense. Nor restricted to the lawbreaker alone.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kenders.

“Had I been deemed guilty, I would have gone to the stockades and the Donngord family name would have been annulled.”

Kenders shook her head, saying, “I don’t know what that means.”

“Simply put, all Donngords—past, present, and future—would be stricken or barred from the Boroughs’ namebooks. Until the first child of the fourth generation was born, the entire family would remain nameless. The Donngords would be shunned from ‘proper society,’ ostracized, cast out.”

“All of you?” asked Kenders in disbelief.

“To the last,” muttered Tobias bitterly.

“They punish the
entire
family for one person’s transgression?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Tobias said, “It is the way things are done.”

“But why?”

“Because it’s the law.”

“It’s a brainless law.”

With another mirthless chuckle, Tobias said, “Many are, Kenders.”

“Where would someone get the idea to do something so awful?”

Tobias stared up at the clear, blue sky, sighed, and said, “An excellent question. Decades after the war, I returned to the Boroughs and spent some time in Gobberdale, researching tomble law. Would you believe it that I could find
nothing
written about annulling a family? Nothing at all? It seems that it was more tradition than anything.”

Frowning, Kenders said, “Tradition is an excuse for doing things without a proper reason.”

Tobias turned his head to stare at her with raised eyebrows.

“That almost sounds wise, Kenders.”

“It is something my father used to say.” Wanting to be clear on the point, she added, “Thaddeus, that is, not Aryn.” Every time Tobias referred to her ‘parents,’ he seemed to be speaking of the White Lion pair. Directing the conversation back to Tobias’ tale, she asked, “Did you tell anyone what you found? Or didn’t find, as it were?”

“Of course. I asked some of the more learned barristers, most never gave me an answer, but the one who did simply said, ‘Tradition is law, too.’ So, I left and came back to the duchies.”

“Does Nundle know about all of this?”

Raising his eyebrows, Tobias asked, “What? About me?” He shook his head. “Gods, no. Right or wrong, the shame of being a law-breaker is branded into you from birth. When I learned Nundle was from the Boroughs, the first thought I had was ensuring he did not find out about my past.”

“You don’t know Nundle. He would never be so judgmental.”

“Perhaps not,” admitted Tobias. “But I did not know that when I met him. I assumed he was like every other Boroughs tomble.”

“You were so worried about being judged unfairly that you did the same thing to Nundle?”

Tobias’ brow drew together, a pair of deep furrows splitting his forehead. After a few moments of quiet introspection, he muttered, “I suppose I did, didn’t I?” Glancing over, he said, “Rather blind of me, wasn’t it?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Kenders said, “We all make mistakes.”

“Very true.”

Kenders waited a moment before asking, “You never did say if you were deemed guilty or not. Were you?”

Tobias shook his head, saying, “I never gave them a chance. I fled Buttermere Crag before the hearing.”

“Truly?”

Nodding, he said, “I thought I could spare my family the pain of my mistake. I did not even say farewell. One cold, Winter night…I just left.”

“Where’d you go?”

“To Marblewater at first, a city on the north coast. I booked passage on the first ship leaving port, not even asking where it was headed, I simply wanted out of the Boroughs. We docked in Keyport in the Northlands Duchy a little over a turn later. Within a day, I found a nice longleg merchant who was looking for a bookkeeper. Two weeks later, I was in Tymnasis, learning the intricacies of the iron and copper trade.”

A smile—a happy one this time—spread over his lips.

“Despite the strange land, food, and people, I enjoyed my life there. Before the war, Tymnasis was a grand city.”

His grin faded, replaced quickly by a grim and dark expression.

“A few years later, stories began to arrive with the caravans from the west telling of a great demon army from the Red Peaks. Soon, war was at our door. Tymnasis was evacuated, the duke at the time seized my employer’s metal stores—without payment, mind you—to forge weapons and armor. He was ruined. With no job and a demon army at the gates, I left the city and went south.”

“Where were you headed?”

“I told you,” said Tobias. “South. It was away from demons and that was good enough for me. I hobbled along, quickly outpaced by everyone else fleeing the city. Late one evening, all alone, I came across a figure standing in the road. A divina, if you can believe it. The first I had ever seen. I stopped in my tracks, terrified. Rumors were the leader of the demon army was a divina.”

“Who was it?”

“He announced himself ‘Tenerva, first priest of Nelnora,’ and asked if I would accompany him to the Celestial Empire.” A lopsided grin spread over his face. “I thought he was mad. However, as I was broke, hungry, and trapped in a country being invaded by demons, I went with him, thinking I might be able to swindle a hot meal from the madman. Imagine my surprise when it turned out he was telling the truth.”

He took a deep breath and exhaled, saying, “You know the rest: the Assembly of the Nine, a choice offered and taken, abilities granted by the Gods and Goddesses. In short order, we eight strangers were on our way to becoming the ‘White Lions,’ destined to save the duchies from the God of Chaos.”

Smacking another marsh fly and wiping it on his leg, he continued his tale.

“The Assembly opened a port to Bard Island and sent us through. We stood on that blasted beach for hours, staring at one another, wondering if we were all dreaming. It was then that some of us first discovered we could use the Strands. Me included. Hells, Broedi accidently set your father’s backpack on fire with a stray Weave.” A wide grin spread over his face. “Twice, actually.”

Kenders smiled at the thought of Broedi fumbling with magic.

Tobias shook his head, saying, “We had no idea what we were doing. None. To a soul, we were terrified. Nevertheless, we pushed our fear aside and did what we needed to do. Aided by a few hundred soldiers of the nearby Postia Barony, we marched on a small detachment of Norasim’s army. We won handily and earned our name in the process from the baron’s pennant: a white lion on a black background. With that victory, the tide of the war began to change.”

He went quiet for a few moments, his gaze unfocused. Kenders used the break in the tale to look ahead. Khin and Boah were nominally riding with Zecus, trailing him by a half-dozen horse lengths. She looked back when Tobias began speaking again.

“As the war dragged on, my visions began to reveal moments back in the Boroughs, brief visits of life amongst entire families of shunned tombles. At first, I thought my personal guilt was influencing the visions.”

“Were they?”

“Who knows? I didn’t understand how the visions worked then, and I still don’t. Nelnora never took the time to explain anything. None of the Assembly did. They bestowed us with our abilities, told us to stop Norasim, and sent us on our way.”

Kenders wondered why the Gods and Goddesses would do such a thing. It was akin to giving a young child a newly sharpened dagger and asking them not cut themself.

“So what did you do? About your visions?”

“Well, I confided in your mother what I was seeing and she suggested we investigate them. She was the only one of us who had been a mage prior to the Assembly and knew the Weave for a port. She taught me the pattern, I opened a port to the outskirts of Buttermere Crag, and she and I strode into town.”

He paused to let loose a heavy, melancholy sigh.

“The town was absent of Donngords. My entire family was gone, our name removed from the namebooks. My running away had not spared them any disgrace. The shame I felt for what I had put my family through…I feel it to this day.”

Unsure any words could comfort him, Kenders chose to remain silent.

“There I sat on the green,” muttered Tobias. “Feeling very sorry for myself, when your mother suggested something that would not have occurred to me had I thought on the matter for a thousand years.” A shrewd smile spread over his lips. “Something to help shunned tombles prove their worthiness while helping us in our fight against Norasim.”

Kenders suddenly realized to what Tobias was alluding.

“The tombles who fought in the war? They were the annulled families, weren’t they?”

“That they were,” said Tobias, pride evident in his tone. “For the next few turns, Eliza and I would port back to the Boroughs whenever we could and go from town to town, offering the option to all outcast families. Most took our offer.”

“Was life as an outcast so bad that they would fight against a demon army for a country not their own?”

Tobias fixed her with a steady gaze.

“Families without a name must leave their homes and live outside town limits. They cannot sell any goods they make or food they grow to ‘respectable’ tombles. They are barred from attending Leisure Day festivals, chantry or chapel, or any learning hall. They can only marry a member of another shunned family. They are not allowed to speak to a ‘respectable’ tomble unless permission is granted. The family name is not only erased, the tombles are as well.”

“I suppose I can see why some took your offer.”

“Not some, Kenders. Most.”

“What about the Donngords? Did they?”

“Some did. Those who still blamed me for Mallin’s death did not.”

“I’m sorry.”

With a short shake of his head, Tobias insisted, “Don’t be. It was their choice to make, not mine. They chose misery over redemption.”

“It sounds as if they had every reason to be miserable.”

“Absolutely, they did. What happened to them was tragic, unjust, and cruel. Yet they were offered a chance at redemption, and they chose
not
to take it. They let a single, horrible accident shape their life. They let it eat away at them, turning them sour on the inside.”

“Perhaps you were better off without them.”

“Oh, we were,” agreed Tobias. “Much better.” He turned to stare at Kenders, his brown eyes intense and bright. “Fate can twist cruel, and it can twist wondrous. Regardless, it is fate. You cannot control it. What you
can
control is your response. It took me a long time to learn that dear. A
long
time. Hopefully, you are a quicker study than I.”

Kenders stared at Tobias quietly, her eyes slowly narrowing. Swiveling her head, she stared ahead at Khin’s bony figure and bald head.

“Is this one of Khin’s blasted lessons?”

The tomble chuckled softly and shrugged.

“I suspected he wanted me to have a talk with you about your constant sulking, and…well, this seemed a good way to convince you not to play ‘what if’ forever. It solves nothing.”

Kenders studied Tobias’ face and asked, “Why have you talk to me? Why didn’t Khin do it himself?”

“You’d have to ask him that.”

She eyed Tobias a few moments longer before muttering, “He sure has a way of getting inside your head, doesn’t he?”

Tobias began to chuckle again, louder this time.

Not understanding his sudden mirth, she asked, “What’s funny about this?”

“Oh, nothing,” replied Tobias, still grinning. “Nothing at all, dear.” Facing forward, his gaze locked onto something ahead. “It would seem that our fearless scouts have found a path through the muck.”

Looking ahead, Kenders saw that the others had indeed stopped and were facing west. Zecus had dismounted and was testing the ground, gently prodding the marsh with his foot. They had learned the hard way that while some land bridges looked safe, many were like freshly baked bread: firm on the outside, soft and yielding within.

Paying close attention to their surroundings for the first time since she and Tobias had begun their conversation, Kenders peered across the flat, open marsh. The line of trees on the other side was closer now but the strip of soggy land separating them from it was still prominent.

“Does he mean to cross here?”

“Judging by his poking about like that, I would say yes.”

Her gaze followed the tree line as it wrapped around to the northwestern horizon.

“There’s no reason to do this here. If we go north a little longer, we won’t need to cross at all.”

“Agreed,” said Tobias. “Perhaps you should share your observation with Zecus.”

“He’s not going to want to hear it.”

“Then I suppose we are going swimming,” said Tobias. He glanced over, a slight smile on his face. “Mind carrying me?”

As they were near the trio, Kenders did not answer. Stopping beside Khin and Boah—still atop their horses—she stared west, her gaze tracing a thin stretch of grass that wound its way through the ponds and puddles. Zecus was walking onto the strip, poking at the ground with his sword.