Read The Record of the Saints Caliber Online

Authors: M. David White

Tags: #Fantasy, #Dark Fantasy, #Fiction

The Record of the Saints Caliber (74 page)

BOOK: The Record of the Saints Caliber
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“Food,” said one of the older boys. “We have to get some food. We can’t keep forcing a march through the woods like this. We all need food. And water.”

“And something for the babes,” added another woman. She also struggled with a pair of inconsolable infants. “They have to have
something
.”

Forest sneered. “There
is nothing
. We
have
nothing
.” he spat. He looked around, throwing out his arms. “Shall I pluck some bark for you? Shall we dine on pine needles and oak leaves?”

“Maybe we should have them hold up here,” suggested Reed, one of the elder boys. He was a taller fellow with red-brown hair and Rook thought he must be near eighteen or nineteen years of age. “I can go scout out a couple miles. I can try and bring back something to eat, or find some water.”

Forest puffed. “With what, your bare hands?”

Reed bent down and picked up a stone. “Believe it or not, I’m pretty handy with a rock. Sometimes me and my Pa would sneak out in the woods and pelt us a bird or rabbit to eat.”

“I can go with too,” offered another boy. Then a couple more spoke up and offered their services as well.

“No.”
spat Forest, shaking his head. His face distorted in disgust. “I’m no fool. You all mean to run off and leave us! I’ll not have us all part ways.”

“We stand a better chance finding food and water if we split off into teams,” said Reed. “We can cover more ground. Maybe find a creek or a pond. Maybe find some berries or mushrooms even.”

The women, and even some of the younger children, all began mumbling their approvals.

Forest frowned, his eyes glowering at the others. He looked at Reed, sneering. “Fine then. But only me and you will go.”

“What about Sky, Winter and Lobo?” asked Reed, pointing at the other three boys his age. “They’re capable as well. They can take the south and we the north. We’ll cover more—”

“No!” snarled Forest. “How do we know they won’t run off? Go turn us in for their own gain?”

The other boys began to protest. Winter rolled his eyes and said, “That’s ridicu—”


No!”
spat Forest. “I’ll not have us split up. Me and Reed will go. The rest of you stay here and tend the women and children.”

None seemed satisfied with Forest’s decision, but they all knew it was the best they could hope for right now. Buckthorn had given command over to Forest before he and the others were taken away, and it was something Forest liked to remind them all about constantly. The people had so far honored Forest’s leadership, but Rook could feel tensions mounting. Rook knew that if he didn’t come back with some food, it would be doubtful any would continue to respect his authority.

Almost as soon as Forest and Reed were out of sight the other boys began rounding up fallen sticks and anything they could find to use as tinder. The women blessed the young men as they tried getting a fire going. Sky seemed the most adept at the art, and within an hour he sparked a blaze to the cheers and applause of all. With the help of the younger children, they managed to gather enough wood to get a cozy fire going and before long they were all huddled around it. They were still hungry and thirsty, and the babies still wailed and cried, but at least they were warm. Blessedly warm after having endured such a long, cold night.

Rook sat among the other children his age, rocking Ursula in his arms. The others all had smiles on their faces and made fun of poking small sticks into the fire and lighting them ablaze. But Rook could find no solace in such simple pleasures. Ursula was screaming. She was hungry and it pained him that there was nothing he could do about it. He laid her in his lap and tried cooing to her, but that only seemed to infuriate her. Her face scrunched up and there was a moment of silence as her face turned bright red. And then the real wailing began. Bolstered by the outburst, the rest of the babies in the camp now followed suit.

Rook couldn’t take it anymore. He had the dagger hidden in the waist of his pants, and he surreptitiously exposed the sharp point of the blade. He looked around to make sure none were watching, then he pricked his finger deeply, and quickly slipped it into Ursula’s mouth. She quieted immediately and began sucking ravenously.

The women did what they could to comfort their own babies in their charge. The only thing they could do was coo to them and sing. At first the women all began in on their own songs, but one of the women sang out louder and the rest joined her in her melody. It was a song Rook had heard his own mother sing a few times, and he too joined in, singing its melancholy tune to Ursula as she sucked upon his finger.

“My child, my child,

Let me sing you a song,

It starts in the Autumn when shadows are long.

The days they are short,

the fields picked bare,

But come on inside, a fire is there.

Warm yourself up,

and rest your head well.

Winter is coming but there’s no food where we dwell.

My child, my child,

Let me sing you a song,

It is Wintertime now and cold nights are long.

The fires grow short,

the hearth is near bare,

But sleep in my arms, my love is still there.

Warm yourself up,

and rest your head well,

Pass peacefully to the song of funeral bells.

My child, my child,

Let me sing you a song,

It ends in the Spring when the sun comes up strong.

Our days have been short,

Your cradle is bare,

I look to the sky and know you are there.

Warm yourself up,

and rest your head well,

Up in the heavens with the Goddess you dwell.

My child, my child,

Let me sing you a song,

We’ll meet once again where the Summer’s yearlong.

Our days won’t be short,

and bounty is there,

We’ll be with Aeoria; there’ll be no despair.

We’ll warm ourselves up,

and rest our heads well,

in the heavens above where the stars used to dwell.”

Rook thought the song was quite sad and despairing. A song befitting of where they all lived. He found himself wondering if other lands might be happier, and the tunes they sing to their children not so melancholy. He wondered if there were lands where mothers might sing out with joy. If there were lands where mothers needn’t worry if their children would starve to death in the cold winter. He looked down at Ursula and a tear fell off his cheek. His finger throbbed, but her eyes were closed now. She sucked peacefully; quietly. She was content, and so was he.

They sat like that for a long time. The fire cracked. Its warmth washed over the makeshift camp. Silence reigned. The air began to grow less cold, and in time morning’s sun was full up and its golden beams shown through the forest. Rook himself was about to doze off when hushed voices began to spread around the fire. Rook looked up and somebody whispered, “They’re coming!”

Rook watched as Forest and Reed strode through the trees. An audible murmur of defeat washed through the camp as it became clear that neither of them bore anything in their hands. Reed seemed paler to Rook. Sweaty. Sick, maybe? He thought for sure Forest was going to scold them for having the fire, but he didn’t even seem to take notice of it. He stood there for a moment, just looking at them all.

“Did you find anything?” asked one of the other boys? “A stream? Berries?”

“No,” said Forest, his voice a little distant. Reed just stood there, not really looking at anybody.

“Is something wrong?” asked one of the women, and they all began standing up. “Reed, you don’t look well.”

Forest glanced at the boy and scowled. Then he looked at the rest and said, “We’re fine. But we have to go.”

There were some murmurs.

“Why?” asked Lobo. And the other boys all looked at Reed. “Reed, what’s wrong?”

Rook could see that Reed wanted to speak, but something stayed his voice. The young man looked away.

“Nothing’s wrong.” growled Forest. “Now come on, get everybody up! We have to go. Hurry now!”

Rook could hear the women all whispering that something had to be wrong. One of the boys said that they must have spotted trouble and were keeping quiet so as not to scare the children. Some of the babies began crying again and the women did the best job they could of rounding everybody up.

“Come on, hurry!” said Forest. He turned Reed around and pushed the boy, forcing him to take the lead. “Come on, let’s go!”

Rook had an uneasy feeling. Like the rest, he knew something was wrong. They all began to file forward, and whispered rumors of Gatima’s soldiers hunting the woods began to spread. The women tried to hold the babes to their breasts to keep their voices down and some of the younger kids began crying too.

Forest pushed Reed by the shoulder ahead of him and led the people about a mile through the forest until they came to a large, natural clearing that was surrounded by the thicker woods all around. Here, Forest made them stop and began waving everybody in. Rook huddled up with all the women and younger children, holding Ursula to his shoulder. Thankfully she was still sleeping and not making a fuss. He could hear Forest hissing at them all to hurry up. “Come on!” he was saying. “Come on! Get in a group!”

“What’s going on?” asked Lobo in a slightly more demanding tone. He looked at Reed. “What’s going on?” he asked again.

“Shh!” hissed Forest.

Everybody formed something of a singular group, all pressed together in the clearing. There were a few moments of confused silence where a palpable anxiety hung in the air. And then the gasps started. Huddled within the crowd, Rook couldn’t immediately see what was happening, but the older boy’s shouts of anger gave him a good idea.

“You sold us out?!” yelled Lobo. “Reed, you sold us out?!”

“Forest, you son of a bitch!” spat Winter.

The women all began screaming, and all around Rook the younger kids began crying.

“Sorry, it was us or you.” said Forest without apology. “And me and Reed chose ourselves.”

Reed began to protest, saying he hadn’t wanted to betray anybody, but now Rook could hear barking orders from other men…strange men. He struggled to see beyond the crowd and caught a glimpse of red armor…the armor of Clerical Guard. Some of the women fell, grabbing up the children into their arms, and now Rook could see what was going on. There were three Clerical Guards with bolt-throwers drawn and aimed at their group. There was also a pair of well dressed men who Rook knew. They were town officials from where he lived. They must have escaped the fighting, and Forest and Reed must have stumbled upon them in the woods.

“Forest you son of a bitch!” screamed one of the boys. There were more angry yells. Women sobbed and pleaded.

“Look what we have here.” said one of the town officials, shaking his head and tisking. He seemed to be making a silent head count. Then he turned and yelled, “Thirty-three of them. Bring the wagons.”

There were hoof beats and the squeaking of wheels. Lumbering into the clearing came a pair of large, wooden wagons, each drawn by a pair of horses. Rook’s heart began to thump rapidly in his chest. He could feel the color leaving his face. He swallowed hard and looked down, backing himself into a group of taller children. Upon the first wagon, holding the reigns of the horses, was the fat, droopy-eyed Garrot. And driving the other wagon was the cadaverous, worm-lipped Rennic Finn.

“All of you, line up!” ordered one of the Clerical Guard. He waved his bolt-thrower at the group. “You, older boys, over here. Women and children over there! Come on, move it!”

Rook kept his chin plastered to his chest and people began moving and shuffling around him. Ursula began to fuss in his arms. He couldn’t imagine what Garrot might do to him, considering he had to know that he killed his brother, Karver. Panic began to take its hold on him. He felt his breath coming short and sharp. He suddenly felt dizzy.

“We did our part.” Rook heard Forest say. “You promised me food and water and my freedom.”

One of the town officials looked at the Clerical Guard next to him, and with very little interest said, “Give him his water.”

The Guard nodded and strode over to Forest. He began backing up, stuttering, asking what was going on as the Guard grabbed him around the arm. Then another Guard came up and grabbed his other arm.

“Wait!…Wait!…What is this? You promised me! You promised my freedom!” screamed Forest.

BOOK: The Record of the Saints Caliber
9.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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