Prophecy (2 page)

“The people of Widdertown … don’t take to strangers very readily,” Lorand answered slowly and reluctantly, feeling as though he betrayed his former neighbors by saying that to someone who wasn’t one of them. “They’re … a small, tightly knit community with … beliefs and opinions they think everyone should have. They won’t enjoy having this horde descending on them, and might not even believe us.”

“Lorand, I ache for the hurt
you’re
feeling, but if they decide not to believe us, whatever happens to them won’t be
our
fault.” Jovvi now spoke firmly and slowly, as though she sought to make
him
believe. “That means it certainly won’t be
your
fault either, even if they fail to survive. When you’re dealing with supposedly responsible adults, you can’t make their decisions for them. Anyone who refuses to take a warning seriously can’t complain about what happens to them afterward.”

“Intellectually I know that,” Lorand agreed glumly. “If we were anywhere else I would be saying the same exact thing, but we don’t happen to
be
anywhere else. We’re in the place where I grew up and where my family lives. The idea of them ending up the way so many people we’ve come across lately have is just too—”

He shook his head, knowing it would be impossible to find the right word to describe his emotions. Everyone in the Widdertown area was
not
like his father, but they did share too many of his attitudes. The idea of not convincing them of the danger terrified him, but it seemed to be beyond him to come up with something that would guarantee success.

Jovvi reached over to touch his arm with clear sympathy and support, and then she let the subject drop. Obviously she’d noticed that discussing the problem was making things worse for him rather than better, and so had left him to his writhing thoughts. But he couldn’t bear his thoughts any longer, so he gave his attention to the fields and farmsteads they passed. Everything was alive and thriving and humming with the joy of growth and health, and he refused to think about how soon all of that might end.

It was late afternoon when Widdertown finally lay directly in front of them, with too-familiar neighborhoods safely behind them. There were now farm wagons on the road heading for the same destination, and Lorand realized that luck might be with them. He’d lately lost track of time and days, but the only time the men of the farms came into Widdertown at the end of the day was just before week’s end. That would mean that most of the farmers would be there to hear what they had to say, without anyone needing to go and fetch them. And considering the looks they’d gotten from the men in the wagons, word of their arrival would certainly not take its time spreading.

The streets of Widdertown held many more men than women, the women naturally at home preparing the evening meal. Everyone stopped to stare uneasily at their column, pointing at them and muttering to those who stood staring with them. Some also began to follow at a small distance, right into the town square, the place Lorand had decided would be best. The general alarm hung there, and once they reached it he dismounted. Taking up the hammer that was never touched unless a real, true emergency came up, Lorand struck the suspended circle of metal, sending out the harsh and clanging echoes that meant everyone was to come.

By the time Lorand put the hammer down again, everyone who had heard the alarm had come running. Confusion reigned as the newcomers slowed their run to add their stares to those already in the square, and then Ravis Grund finally made his appearance. Ravis was the man who ran things in Widdertown, but not because the farmers and townies had agreed that he should. Lorand had never stopped to wonder why a man who was wealthy only in comparison to most of the people in the district ran things, but now he believed he knew. Ravis Grund was probably the agent of whichever noble claimed the district as private property, and ran it for them as an overseer of sorts.

“Who’s causing all this commotion?” Ravis demanded as he made his portly way through the crowds, mopping his brow as he came. “Lorand Coll, is that you, boy? What are you doing back here with
that
scraggly-looking lot? And what do you mean by ringing the alarm? You’re in deep trouble now, boy—”

“That’s enough, Ravis,” Lorand interrupted, more than annoyed by the man’s attitude. “I’m not the one in trouble, and if you had an ounce of common sense you would have asked
why
I rang the alarm, not decided in advance that I couldn’t have had a reason. How much do you know about what the empire’s army has been doing in Astinda?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, boy,” Ravis denied at once, his gaze shifting furtively to the townspeople around them. Lorand hadn’t spoken softly, and everyone but Ravis looked disturbed and confused and had begun to mutter. “The empire doesn’t
have
an army, and even if they did it would be none of your business. Now you take these raggedy drifters and—”

“So you do know all about it,” Lorand said with a satisfied nod for the obvious lie, again interrupting the fool. “I’m sure your owners told you, but you never saw fit to pass on the information. With that being the case, I’ll do it for you right now, because the information is vital. The empire has more than one army, but the one which has been devastating Astinda is the one everyone needs to hear about. Astinda has finally put together its own army, and its been destroying all our forces in its path without any trouble. Now that army is heading for the border, and it should be here in much too short a time. The Astindans have obviously decided to return some of the destruction empire forces have caused in
their
country, and Widdertown lies directly in their path.”

A chaos of alarm and shock broke out in the crowd, sustained and encouraged by the fact that Ravis had gone pale and terrified. He’d waxed extremely indignant when Lorand had spoken about his “owners,” but now indignation had given way to fear.

“You see?” Lorand shouted over the hubbub, pointing toward Ravis. “If any of you doubt what I said, just take a good look at the man who assured you a minute ago that the empire doesn’t have an army. He works for the nobles who bleed you dry and treat you like slaves, so his actions are always in
their
best interests. Now he’s willing to let you all die, destroyed under the heels of an avenging army, just to keep his owners’ secrets.”

“Stop sayin’ that!” Ravis screamed, his country accent coming back with the hysteria. “I don’t have no ‘owners,’ I’m a free man!
They
have owners and they know it, but I don’t!”

“Too bad we can’t say nothin’ to deny that,” Idroy Welt, one of the district’s biggest farmers, said with barely hidden venom. “Those nobles own us body and spirit, an’ leave us with almost nothin’ to raise our families on. Are we supposta die for them now?”

“Ain’t you takin’ whut the boy said with a real big grain a salt?” another voice put in, that of Mollit Feldin, another large-acreage farmer standing at the front of the crowd. “I knowed Lorand there since he been a pint-sized hellion, an’ everythin’s always real important if
he’s
in the middle a it. Looks like nothin’s changed since he growed, an’ I don’t fancy runnin’ off on just his say-so. If the rest a you think on it, you’ll see thet whut he says ain’t real likely.”

This time the muttering of the crowd was in support of what Mollit had said, the voice of reason drowning out the voice of warning. The fact that they’d known him all his life
was
one of the biggest problems, as no one wants to believe the lie of a possible practical joker and thereby make himself look foolish. Add that to their very understandable reluctance to accept the possibility of their being about to lose everything, and control of the situation was abruptly taken right out of Lorand’s hands.

“I’ve never seen a bigger bunch of damn’ fools in my life,” Vallant said suddenly and loudly from where he now stood beside Lorand. “They’d rather believe the lies of that fat toady who steals from them in the name of the nobles, so why bother arguin’? It’s their lives, not ours, so let’s go on to another town where there might be fewer fools.”

Everyone took umbrage at that and anger rose in shouts, but the voice of Idroy Welt rose above the rest. Idroy was a big man, hard and tough and respected by his neighbors even if they didn’t like him very much, and his booming tone drowned out most of theirs.

“Let’s everybody calm right down,” he said, looking around in all directions. “This ain’t somethin’ to believe or not believe right off the bat. Let’s invite these here folk to the meetin’ hall where we c’n all sit down and hear what they gotta say, an’ then we c’n talk about it. Don’t know if the meetin’ hall’s big enough to hold all a them, though… Let’s show ’em hospitality an’ take care a their mounts too, an’ then some of ’em can come to the meetin’ hall. By then most everybody oughta be in town.”

Mollit Feldin tried to say it was a waste of time and food and effort, but happily the rest of the men there were more inclined to agree with Idroy. They weren’t happy about any part of the situation, but at least they were willing to listen. What happened afterward was still up in the air, but at least they’d get fed and their horses would also be fed and rested.

So then, if they were asked to leave after the meeting, there would be nothing but Lorand’s memories and regrets hovering in their path out of there…

CHAPTER TWO

Vallant kept silent as their five walked along the dirt street, his thoughts on something other than the meeting they were going to. Having an imagination was rarely an asset to people living in a small town, and those individuals, like Lorand, who were born with one usually left as soon as they could. The proposed meeting would probably quickly become a matter of the farmers demanding proof and
their
saying there wasn’t any—short of waiting around until it was too late. After that “wiser heads” would voice grave doubts as to the wisdom of leaving their homes, and the majority of farmers would listen to them. If this hadn’t been the place Lorand came from, Vallant would have been just as happy to simply move on.

But that would have been the only thing he was happy about. Vallant glanced at Tamrissa where she walked on the far side of the group, very clearly and obviously putting as much distance between him and herself as she possibly could. And the way she’d been acting with him… She hadn’t turned him invisible in her thoughts the way she’d done once before, this time it was worse. Every time he looked at her her whole being seemed to ache, and she no longer ever looked directly at
him
. He’d gotten the impression he was dead in her thoughts rather than merely invisible, and that brought him more than just a simple ache.

He took a deep breath then, stepping up onto the wood of the new sidewalk without really paying attention. He and Lorand moved into the lead with the other three behind them, all five apparently sunk into their own thoughts. Vallant had meant to speak to Jovvi, wanting to ask her to explain to Tamrissa that she, Tamrissa, wasn’t yet ready for the relationship she thought she wanted, but he hadn’t had the opportunity.

The townspeople had stabled as many of the horses as they could and had put the rest in a corral, and then they’d thrown together a meal for the humans. Not that the townspeople had acted friendly or concerned; they were doing what they’d been told was their duty, and standoffish was too mild a word for their attitude. People suffering from disease would probably have gotten a warmer welcome, if those people were considered their own. Strangers were a good deal worse than disease carriers, and no one even volunteered to help shift the horses which were fed out of the stabling and putting others in their place. The townspeople had supplied the feed and the stabling; let the strangers, no matter how tired they looked, take care of the rest themselves.

Vallant had had to walk among the liberated “segments” and calm their anger, telling them that these people weren’t worth getting upset about. Lorand had been born and raised among them, and even he was being no more than tolerated. People who were that afraid of change and difference weren’t likely to survive the coming of the Astindan army, and maybe that was for the best. When a community gets
too
insular, it starts to decay down deep, where the ruin can’t be seen until it’s too late for anyone to stop it.

Not like individuals, who were simply trying to keep someone they cared about from making a mistake. Vallant would have liked nothing better than to take Tamrissa in his arms and make love to her again, but it wouldn’t have been good for
her
. Was he supposed to forget about that and do it anyway, and ruin any chance they had for a lasting, loving—

“The meeting hall’s just up ahead there,” Lorand said abruptly, pulling Vallant away from the morass of rambling, chaotic thoughts. No matter what he tried to think about, the path always led back to Tamrissa and the last words they’d exchanged…

“Do you think there’s any chance of their listenin’ to us?” Vallant asked quietly, determined to be the master of his own mind. “The ones who brought that food were colder than mile-high ice, and they don’t yet know what we are. What do you think will happen when they find out?”

“I’m trying
not
to think about it,” Lorand replied, his tone weary rather than sarcastic. “I keep getting the feeling that someone has dismantled half this town, because I don’t remember it being quite this small. And that Mollit Feldin, who wanted to dismiss everything I said… I’m remembering how many others are just like him, uninterested in anyone’s opinion but their own. Maybe we should have gone to a different town.”

“If we had, you never would have forgiven yourself—or us,” Vallant countered, understanding far too well what his group brother was going through. “And I know what you mean about this place shrinkin’, and the people suddenly lookin’ like they have blocks of wood for heads. The same thing happened to me when I first shipped out and then came back, and it took some effort to understand that
I
was the one who had changed, not the town or the people. So give your old neighbors a chance, because they just might surprise all of us.”