Firemoon (8 page)

Read Firemoon Online

Authors: Elí Freysson

BOOK: Firemoon
9.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

After four more hurried steps Katja saw a man writhe on the ground by the bridge with an arrow in his abdomen.

Katja held the shield up and ran over the bridge in a crouch with her right arm behind herself.

An arrow smacked into the wood and a moment later she saw the archer beyond the river. He hadn’t counted on the shield and retreated as she ran at him. But before her blow could land she sensed danger from another direction, and narrowly managed to defend herself as a man stepped from hiding by the bridge with a long spear and thrust at her.

The tip damaged the battered shield but it still hung together.

“COME OVER, COME OVER!” Katja shouted and ran past the spear’s reach. The man retreated and tried to strike at her with the shaft, but again the shield saved her. She pushed him into the river and turned in the direction the archer had vanished. She saw a faint, stationary silhouette and covered behind the shield. Another arrow hit it and someone came across the bridge.

The dark, stocky Shade charged with an axe in his hands and the archer tried to draw another arrow but wasn’t halfway there when the axe sank into his chest.

The Shade, Garan, bellowed like a bull and struck again after the man had fallen to the ground.

“COME OVER!” Katja repeated and people reacted. Half-dressed people, old and young, wounded and healthy, armed and unarmed, flooded over the bridge fleeing their homes. She saw some of the Shades among them.

“The house was attacked!” Garan shouted on the other side of the flood. Then he received Ebba and the child as they ran to him and the trio sped off.

Katja crossed the bridge again and headed to the Shade home. She encountered a few stragglers on the way and took care to brace for combat each time, which did nothing to calm the villagers.

She saw the flames on the roof before seeing the house itself. Anna came running towards her with a sack on her back and started at the sight of the sword.

“What happened? Where is Serdra?” Katja asked before the woman could disappear.

“I don’t know!” the woman shrieked. “She was outside, fighting them!”

Katja heard the hoofbeats come their way and an exhausted, frightened man appeared at a hard run away from the sounds. Anna ran for the bridge.

A moment later they appeared, three of them. The one in the lead had a spear, and upon spotting Katja he steered the horse at her with the tip leading the way. She evaded the attack but the next one was right behind and slashed with a long axe. The shield finally shattered from the heavy blow and Katja staggered back. The third one had a spear as well, but wasn’t as nimble with it as the first one.

Katja dodged his attack and slashed him in the thigh. The rider screamed and lost control of his horse, shaking back and forth in the saddle.

“I am injured!” he shouted.

They had almost vanished into the fog when the two in the lead turned their mounts about, away from the villagers and back her way. Katja threw the remains of the shield in the ground and prepared for further fighting. The one with the axe reached for his stricken comrade and seemed to mean to aid him in controlling the frightened horse. A spear that came flying out of the night and into the wounded one ended that plan.

The man fell to the ground and the horse fled. The other two had to struggle to contain their own mounts but then sent them back into a hard run around Katja, as someone approached them from the Shade house.

Katja saw the face of the one in the lead as the light of a burning house hit him. Their gazes met a moment.

“Vajan!” Katja shouted.

They vanished into darkness and fog and she heard someone blow on a horn.

“Katja,” Serdra said. Of course it was her. “Let’s go.”

Katja was more inclined to charge east, but that would probably be stupid. They ran side-by-side over the bridge and caught up with the tail-end of the fleeing mass.

“Into the forest!” someone shouted. “Up and into the forest!”

The voice and authoritative and strong and the idea was wise. The disorganized group turned  north-west and headed uphill. The fog thinned greatly as they left the river behind and Katja began to see pretty well. She searched for familiar faces and was relieved to see at least half of the Shades at a glance.

The forest received them in its bosom and cover and some sighed with relief.

Katja looked back down at Blossoms. She saw the fires that had been lit in the village in such a short time and was horrified at how pretty they looked in the darkness, when one couldn’t tell that they were eating homes and the corpses of innocent fruit farmers.

Serdra nudged her and they vanished into the forest along with the rest.

The mob slowed down, exhausted with fatigue and fear, and grief now found room in many hearts. Some shouted in anger at the attack but were told to quiet down out of fear of pursuit. More people sobbed, lay on the ground, prayed or called the names of the loved ones in desperate hope of finding them in the mob.

This was a difficult choir to listen to, even though Katja hadn’t known anyone to any degree.

One of the older men urged people to continue and find shelter in the next village, and most of those who had dropped down stood up and staggered after their friends and families rather than be left behind.

Serdra pulled Katja to herself, they fell behind and followed the group from a slight distance.

“That was Vajan!” Katja hissed.

“Yes, I heard.”

“I thought I had killed that stain!”

“I suppose it will have to wait,” the older woman replied. “What did you see after we separated?”

Katja went over it briefly.

“I killed a group of three,” Serdra said. “But once I realized the magnitude of the attack I returned to the house, just before a large group assaulted both doors at the same time. We managed to drive them off but there were some casualties.”

“Damn,” Katja said quietly.

“This was a well-planned attack,” her mentor said. “The largest groups came from the east and south-east and worked their way towards one another. Smaller groups caused chaos among those who fled, and the riders closed the eastern part while riding people down and causing even further chaos. The fires were lit fairly regularly, and though they won’t necessarily spread to every house in this calm, this will be a heavy blow to the village.”

“I hate them,” Katja said venomously. “I mean, since Vajan was there this must have been...” She checked their distance to the nearest person. “The Brotherhood. Right? This fog was quite convenient for them.”

“Indeed it was.”

“I hate them,” she repeated. “How is it so easy for them to massacre people who have done nothing to them?”

“Sorcery has a certain effect on people,” Serdra said. “And the Brotherhood folk are brought up thinking of themselves as superior.”

“I killed five or six of these superior people,” Katja said contemptuously.

“Remember the first rule,” Serdra said severely. “Always and forever.”

“Yes,” Katja said and sighed. She didn’t think she’d forgotten, but perhaps contempt was the start of it. The first rule was that any enemy could slay a careless warrior.

“Some of them had these.”

Serdra took something from her belt and handed it over to Katja. It was one of those curved knives. The blade was about thirty centimetres and the upper portion that continued after the curve was significantly broader than the lower one. Katja now saw that the edge was on the inside of the curve, not on the outside as on a sabre. In addition, the blade was broad and rather heavy.

“What is this?”

“A moonblade,” Serdra said. “They originate among mountain folk to the north, but have become rather popular among professional soldiers. Valdimar’s men bear them as signs of status.”

“I haven’t seen such a weapon before. I think I would remember.”

“Well, I am unaware of them seeing any use here around the Inner Sea.”

Katja rubbed the spot where the spear-shaft had hit her.

“And why are Brotherhood agents carrying...”

She fell silent and considered the question.

“So people will blame Valdimar’s men? Since they are on their way south anyway?”

“It is possible,” Serdra said. “It is also possible that they hired help from the north.”

“Perhaps,” Katja said quietly, but her mind began analysing the first possibility.

Someone near the front of the mob suddenly stopped against a tree and waited for the two of them. It turned out to be Garan.

“Patrekur is dead,” the man said sombrely. He walked along with them. “So is his father, Fjola, Frank and Reon.”

“My condolences,” Katja said.

Was it wrong of me to abandon the house?

“We are on our way to Hollow,” the man continued. “We should get there shortly before sunrise. Many have kin there and we can shelter until we can... can decide what comes next.”

Garan was silent for a bit.

“The little fort to the north-east must be told of this,” he said. “If this is the start of an invasion...”

“It was the Brotherhood,” Katja said softly.

Garan stiffened and looked at her.

“At least, one of them was leading this attack,” she explained. “His name is Vajan, if you want to know where to seek vengeance.”

Garan was silent and Katja saw various feelings roiling around within him. But the strong surface was quickly back into place and he opened his mouth.

“Well, such an attack still needs to be reported. Perhaps they can dispatch riders and catch up with them.”

“And you want us to deliver the news,” Serdra.

Garan looked at her, somewhat shamefully to Katja’s eye.

“I should be able to procure horses with some people I know,” he said. “But it is not certain, and could take some time. If someone turns about now and heads for the fort they will be probably arrive there before I do. And you... you would probably be safer during that trip than anyone else here. You have shown your might.”

“This is all perfectly logical,” Serdra said. “We can await your arrival in or around the fort and then decide on the next step.”

Serdra stopped and so did Katja.

“Good,” Garan said. “Thank you. Do you know the way to the fort?”

“I do,” Serdra said.

“Well.” The man sighed. “This has been quite some night.” He stroked his head and looked at them. “But things would have been far worse without the two of you. I am fully aware of that.”

Katja nodded at the gratitude. She didn’t quite know which words to use.

“Most of the others are rather shocked, but I know I can thank you on behalf of all of us.”

He alternated his gaze between them.

“Again, my thanks. Hopefully we will meet in the morning.”

He jogged to catch up with the group.

Katja watched him disappear and then turned to Serdra.

“Well.”

“Yes.”

They turned around, agreeing to swing north around Blossoms and stay in the forest until they arrived at a road. Though the raider force would most likely head to Bag River County after finishing its task, the assumption was not worth one’s life.

Katja took her leather fingerless gloves from her jacket’s pockets and put them on. The night wasn’t particularly warm and in case of another fight she wanted every scrap of protection.

They were silent as they trekked through the forest. It was best to be able to hear sneaking enemies, Serdra seemed to have nothing to say and Katja was deep in her own thoughts on various subjects.

One of them was her own experience of this whole matter. She sympathised with the villagers, certainly, and her words of condolences to Garan had been sincere. But nonetheless she felt a certain satisfaction at having fought. She felt no shame at not regretting killing those men but how could she enjoy something that visited such horror upon innocent people?

Am I a monster?
she thought.

They maintained a pace that didn’t wear them out and after a while they exited the forest and found a dirt path leading north-east.

Silence continued to reign but became oppressive as a certain matter got ever louder in Katja’s mind.

“Serdra?” she finally said.

“Yes?”

“Was...”

Katja took a deep breath.

“Was this because of us?”

Saying the words hurt but she had to let them out, rather than let them fester within.

“What do you think, Katja?”

“I am...” Katja fell silent and sighed. She looked to the side and saw Serdra’s familiar piercing gaze, used when her mentor was evaluating her in some way.

Katja closed her eyes and sighed again.

What was the lesson this time? That Serdra wasn’t all-knowing? That Katja had experienced and learned enough to draw her own conclusions? That if she was truly close to finishing her studies she would have to learn to do so?

Probably.

Other books

Should've Been a Cowboy by Vicki Lewis Thompson
With Friends Like These... by Gillian Roberts
Horselords by Cook, David, Elmore, Larry
White Girls by Hilton Als
Nowhere to Run by Valerie Hansen
Skeleton Key by Jane Haddam
Play Me Real by Tracy Wolff