No One's Chosen (71 page)

Óraithe shook her head and put purpose into her walk.
That was enough doubt. Cosain's death had shaken her but had not
changed the world around her. Scaa would have said as much. Óraithe
pictured the short-haired girl and smiled. That was the way
forward. She had lived with fear and comfort and acceptance. It was
just a matter of explaining things to Teas now. They were sisters,
she reminded herself. Sisters may go separate ways, but it would be
alright in the end. And there was an end.

She tried her best to increase her pace, but it just
led to an awkward hobble. She was not used to her body being
uncooperative and it made her anxious and angry so she kept her
pace slow and careful. Óraithe was in Teas's neighborhood now and
it would not be long before she arrived at the shop. The sun was
not so high in the sky, but surely she would be up by now. Scaa and
Bonn must have brought her home. There was little that could have
gone wrong with the healing.

There was a gathering at the end of the small side
street that held the shop. Óraithe gathered up behind the people
and there was another sinking feeling in her stomach. She turned
and took another route. Moving north another street, there was a
connecting alleyway that was less often used as it served little
purpose other than to connect the two side streets, neither of
which saw massive business as it was.

She entered the alley and moved down it as quickly as
she could. It was clear of onlookers but would give her enough room
in case there was something which gave her need to flee. At the end
of the alleyway she peeked out. There were three city guards in
front of the scrivening shop. Óraithe pulled a breath and held it
without thinking. Were they looking for her? Had Teas's father
called the guard the night before when Teas had gone missing? The
guards did not seem agitated, nor were their hands even on their
weapons.

She squinted to get a better view in the bright sun.
Was it? She could have sworn she saw Teas's father smile. And then
there was a laugh from the group. How? There was no reason for them
to even be there, let alone to be pleased about it. It was not as
though she could simply walk over and ask what their purpose was.
There was another laugh and then the four went into the shop.

Óraithe stared at the shop for another few moments,
trying to puzzle out what could have brought them there. She
worried that Teas was inside with them but there was little she
would be able to do even if the girl were. Her family had never
been in any sort of trouble ever since they moved to
Fásachbaile.

As she neared the square, she pondered over the
curious thing she had seen. She stood at the far end of the square,
putting the guards out of her mind, and looked northward to the
gallows. She approached them through the thin crowd out doing their
morning shopping. When she neared the wooden platform, the heat of
the day struck her for the first time. She was sweating heavily in
the hot sun as midday approached.

The gallows seemed much smaller than they had the day
before when she looked to them. Cosain's face as he hung flashed in
her mind but she pushed it out and replaced it with the kind smile
she had always known.

"Cosain, I am sorry for the trouble I brought you. I
wonder if you would say it had been worth it in the end. I thank
you, though, for teaching me more than you ought to have. And for
smiling at me one last time." She said the words quietly and
touched the rough wood of the gallows.

There would be no celebrations of his life, she knew.
Especially not for a man who confessed to murder and theft and
more. She wondered who of the crowd had known him. How many had
been his customers and his friends? Did they hate him now? Did they
believe his confession as the highborn had?

She gritted her teeth and frowned. Patting the wood a
final time, Óraithe turned and walked away from the platform. The
square was quiet today and the wind was still. It made the heat all
the worse. She made for the eastern side of the square, flapping
her loose shift.

There was blood on the shift, she had noticed for the
first time. The dirty water that had been her bed had done little
to pull the stain out. It must have belonged to Teas. Óraithe
sighed. It was hard enough to get blood out even with an immediate
wash and she had run out of clothes now. She had only the dress and
some old garments at Cosain's shop. She could not risk a return to
the shop. Not now and perhaps not ever.

She spit on two fingers and rubbed it on the blood to
be sure it had set. It had, and set deeply. She rubbed the stain
more vigorously pulled them away. Nothing. The dress had not given
back the slightest bit of color to Óraithe's fingers. It would take
something more powerful or perhaps even just a new shirt in its
entirety. Blood stains were worth worrying over. They begged
questions and poor answers meant detainment or worse.

It was then that she remembered the dye shop and the
things she had stolen. There was a bleach among them! She did not
need much and what harm would there be in bleaching the dress and
shift together? There would be a need for fresh water though. The
dirt and sweat of her sullied garb might throw off the bleach and
it was not likely that she would be welcomed back to the dyers
shop. There were public water pumps around the city and one, in
fact, not terribly far from the den as she remembered. The pumps
were one of the few luxuries of the Low District, though it was
said they had been in place since long before the Palisade went up.
Cosain had once told her that there was a massive underground lake
that the pumps tapped into. The water was too deep to supply normal
plants with water and so it did little to help the arid nature of
the area.

They would need the water sooner or later, and so why
not get it now? Óraithe pointed herself in the direction of the
pump. It felt good to renew her sense of purpose. There were things
to be done, after all, and she would do them. Carrying on without
Teas may even prove itself to be a benefit, Óraithe considered. The
girl was no fighter or thief and she tended to prefer taking care
of people. She would have made a wonderful healer if the practice
had not been so reviled among the Low District elves. Though she
wondered if those that existed in the area would have been skillful
enough to pass on the arts properly. Surely the High District woman
would have been more than capable. The thought reminded Óraithe of
the talks they used to have about the future. Teas never seemed to
want to lay claim to any dream of a life. Óraithe would offer them
up as best she could. Seamstress, healer, dressmaker. Teas would
turn them all down with a smile, saying that she had her father's
shop and that the other things would cost far too much to learn.
The conversations tended to die there with Óraithe in a huff that
the girl would not play along properly.

The walk to the pumps was a slow, hot one. Óraithe
had hoped to chance upon a discarded bucket in the distance to the
pump, and she had, but it was beyond any sort of repair. She passed
the pump up and went to look for one in the area. They were not
uncommon and people often left them for use by others. Two blocks
over she found an old, warped bucket sat at the end of an alleyway.
She smiled and clutched it to her chest.

Hot weather drew people out to the pumps and today
was no exception. The line for water was considerable but Óraithe
did not mind it. She was busy planning. They had coin now, after
all. Coin for food and for the potions they needed. For new
clothes, even. For a copper or two she could have a whole outfit to
wear. Perhaps even a pretty one. While she waited, she even
resolved that she would be sure to visit Teas regularly. It would
not endanger the girl and she and Scaa would be free to do what was
needed. Though, they would need to replace her. Someone who could
keep Bonn company and perhaps even handle some of the other things.
Teas had, of course, been useful during the scouting.

Óraithe thought of Bonn and frowned as her place in
line drew nearer to the pump. The boy was not yet a liability but
his uses were limited. Perhaps he might even go. Scaa would likely
be capable of seeing less of the slow elf. It would improve their
productivity and lower their meal needs. Teas's father could likely
support an extra mouth. He had done so when he was younger, after
all. The money problems had even come from his spending on Teas and
the healer. Surely he was doing well enough now. Teas had even been
taking ingredients fairly regularly, Óraithe thought.

Her time at the pump came and she filled the bucket.
It was awkward to carry as the warped wood held the weight of the
water forward away from her body. Óraithe spun it to try to find a
better way of holding the water, but could not manage. The den was
not so far away now.

It took her the best part of twenty minutes to make
the short trip. Her muscles ached and the slow pace the water
required only made the trip all the worse. Óraithe huffed in
exhaustion as she worked the bucket down each step in turn. When it
finally made the landing, she opened the door and slid it in.

She had kept her eyes to the ground when she opened
the door and the sound of sniffling caused her to look up. Across
the room from her was the silver-haired girl with the braids that
she called sister. Óraithe looked around the room. Teas was alone
and staring down at the table they had taken so many meals by.

"Teas?" Óraithe called to her softly.

The girl spun around and her face was swollen and red
from crying. She wiped the tear drags away only to have them
replaced a second later.

Óraithe took a step toward her. Something was amiss.
"Are you hurt? Where are Scaa and Bonn?"

"I'm sorry." The words came as a quiet mumble.

"Sorry?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Óraithe." The
girl sniffed and sputtered, trying to find her words. "They… they
told me they would help my family."

She did not understand. "Your family? Who?" The sound
of armored footfalls in the alleyway behind her answered the
question. The color drained from Óraithe's face and her expression
fell. She felt the strength go from her body.

The footfalls sounded on the steps but Óraithe did
not turn to see them but a pair of gauntleted hands took her by
either arm. There was no sound but Teas's voice now.

"They said they would not hurt you." She looked to
the guards. "You said you wouldn't hurt her. Father made you
swear."

The girl disappeared as Óraithe was dragged up the
steps and out of the only home that was left to her. She could hear
the sounds of the guards saying something. She still had not looked
at them even as they topped the stair. She saw the door and then
the alleyway and then she shut her eyes.

She had lost so much, she thought. What was a little
more?

Armire sat before her, perched on a small stoop that
lead to the Bastion guard barracks. Her black hair was tied back
and her face was stern and serious, though the tone of her voice
spoke to a sort of disappointment. The sullen expression made
Rianaire feel a pang of regret over what was apt to come next.

"I do apologize for not having died. Perhaps had
Spárálaí informed me of his schedule I could have been more
accommodating."

Her body still ached but it was not something she was
intent on telling the Binseman she had seen fit to leave in charge
of the defense of the entire province. Armire, for all her
innocence in other areas, was a deft tactician.

"I should say," Rianaire began again. "I'm somewhat
disappointed by the reception. I had recruited more souls than I
needed by half."

Armire scoffed. "You have the right of that. Nearly
half the city guard abandoned their posts the moment they heard
word of an incoming attack. A rumor spread that their precious
Treorai had been leading the column bound for the gates."

Rianaire forced a laugh, though her lungs did not
wish it to happen. "So the citizens are not so stupid and you and
Spárálaí like to pretend."

The Binseman stood and swept her arm in a grand
gesture. "It has nothing to do with what we think of their ability.
You mean to ruin the country. That is the beginning and the end of
it."

"And what have I ruined?"

"The values that have made us great for a thousand
seasons and more."

The girl was so young to speak such a ridiculous
thing. She could not help but feel pity for her in that moment.
"What use do you have for those values, Armire? Have they not led
you to this?" Rianaire motioned to the city and the smoke that had
begun to float into the sky. "You were not alive to see the last of
the great famines. Where the highborn wrapped themselves in furs
for the winter and let the smallfolk starve. I suppose you would go
with Spárálaí and say that certainly the nobles are too important
to die in such a way."

"Well, is it not true? With no one to organize the
armies and the guards, how would they be safe enough to tend the
fields that feed them? And without a system to make coin, they
could not sell them. Trade them, perhaps, but that is a crude way
of life."

"And with none to tend the fields? Or to spend the
coin? A ruling class without subjects is a sad sight. A bunch of
haughty elves starving and freezing in their castles." Rianaire had
stood up straight now, looking for all the world like a proper
Treorai as she lectured the child. "It was the way of the last
famine. The people fled the lands as they froze over, dry and cold.
But not the Regents. No. Elves too proud of their keeps and their
lands to leave them."

Armire was silent. "There…" She began but stopped
before a sentence could form. "Spéirbaile has never fallen. The
generals—"