Chapter 51: Masses

Uud and Syl rode slowly down the embankment. It had been a few days since any rain had watered the area and the hot sun was high in the sky. The road, even though cobbled with stone and brick, was dry and dusty. There was no breeze, so the dusty smell, interwoven occasionally with the odor of dry grass and a hint of spearmint, lay heavily around them.

Uud pulled up short and Syl followed. Even from here, more than a half a league away, they could hear the murmur from the valley below.

“Gods of Order,” Syl whispered, her eyes wide. “They go on forever.”

Uud grunted. The two of them were the forward scouts for the day, so they were the first to come across the massive group of people camping in the large valley. As soon as they’d seen the mass of people, however, they’d turned and rode back to Gillen and the main group, so they’d not really gotten any accurate numbers. Honor Hawksley had immediately sent them back to gather intelligence about what was happening. Probably they should have done that in the first place, but their leader had been quite adamant about letting her know about anything unusual before engaging it.

“All the way to the horizon,” Uud agreed, shading his eyes from the hot sun. He could clearly see two rivers, one to his left and the other to his right, coming down out of the hills and widening to lakes before moving on. The crowd filled the valley between the two and even the plains beyond each river. He leaned forward slightly to run his hands down the side of his mount’s neck. The horse, Filken, had come from the ranch he and his wives owned. Filken had been a marriage gift from the two women and had always been a good mount.

“Where could they be coming from?” Syl asked rhetorically. Like Uud, she had her hand above her eyes, blocking out the sun. Her blue eyes were squinting as they roved across the scene below and small, thin strands of her blonde hair, which had escaped from her braid, clung wetly to the side of her face.

Uud’s eyes raised to Syl from his mount. “I’ve no idea. Klevel? It’s the nearest city.”

“There are too many for Klevel,” Syl remarked, still looking over the throngs below. “Klevel’s no more than forty or fifty thousand. There’s at least a hundred thousand down there. Probably more.”

Uud grunted again. “I wager we should go down and ask them, then.”

The two started their mounts walking again. Syl waited a few moments before continuing as they rode. “You’ve been melancholy lately.”

Uud sighed, gripping the reins loosely in his left hand. “I’ve... we’ve ... got enough reason to be, don’t we? It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We weren’t supposed to be the last.”

“Death comes for us all, my friend,” Syl said with a disheartened sigh. “None of us know when it is our turn.”

Uud just grunted his agreement. Syl looked at him closely. “It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?”

Uud just turned to look at her before facing forward again. “I was just thinking of Lin. She’d have loved this. The adventure. The not knowing. She was always volunteering for scout duty, you know. She always wanted to see what was just beyond the next hill.”

Uud paused for a moment, looking down at the head of his mount. His voice was thick when he spoke again. “I loved her. You know?”

He looked up quickly, taking in Syl’s raised eyebrows. “Not like that. Never like that. I love my wives and Lin loved her husbands. I loved her like a sister. I had four older brothers who used to bully me when I was younger. I always wondered what having a sister would’ve been like. Then I met Lin and ... I loved her.”

He frowned wistfully. “It was always Myllyn, me and Lin. He was like a brother, and she was like a sister. Losing them...”

His voice fell away, and he looked away as he wiped absently at his eyes.

The two were silent for a few moments, carefully picking their way down the meandering trail, before Uud spoke again. “It’s going to be difficult telling her husbands.”

“I can do it,” the slightly younger knight offered, a few stray strands of her blonde hair crossing over her face in the wind. She grabbed the strands irritably and pulled them back behind her ear. She had her hair done in its usual braid, but stray strands were always getting free. Not for the first time, she vowed to cut her hair short.

Uud had three years on Syl, he was 28 to her 25. Syl, however, was ambitious while Uud was content to do his job effectively and efficiently. Syl had her eyes on Byrn Kotliss’ job – First of the First. Becoming one of the Queen’s most trusted confidante’s and the titular leader of her armies appealed to the young woman. To that end, she’d never married, her focus constantly on climbing the ranks. “It’s one of the reasons I’ve never married. Our job can be dangerous, and I don’t want to leave any hearts behind.”

“I’ll do it,” Uud replied. “I know the men. They won’t take it well but it’s my job to do. The two are good men. Strong. They’ll manage. It’ll be hard on the children, though.”

They took the ride down slowly, allowing the people below to see them coming. As they approached, though, they pulled their helms over their head and lifted their shields into their hand. The two were taking no chances, mindful of the Third Platoon’s unofficial creed – “Be wary in enemy territory; enemy territory starts at the outer door of our homes.”

At least, that was Uud’s version.

The road down to the valley from the rather small hill where they had camped was not steep, but it did have a few cutbacks to navigate. A few wildflowers grew in clumps and bushes along the side of the road, making the ride pleasant if hot. The murmur of voices grew and fractured from the general hum to individual sounds and voices as they approached the edges of the huge group.

“What do you think of Tulat?” Syl asked suddenly as they neared the base of the hill.

“Which one?” Uud replied, his eyes scanning the crowd they were approaching.

“The grandmother,” Syl replied tartly, rolling her eyes. “The boy, Uud. What do you think of the boy?”

Uud looked at her, his face hurt. “How was I supposed to know which one you were talking about?”

Uud shook his head and returned to his study of the people they were approaching. “He seems to be a good sort. He’s big but quick, strong but flexible. I wouldn’t want to go against him.”

“What do you think of Ataya naming him her champion?” Syl asked.

“I think it odd,” Uud replied almost immediately. “We’re supposed to be her champions.”

He paused for a single breath and then continued. “However, with only three of us left, I suppose I can see the need for another.”

“I think she’s letting her center do her thinking for her,” Syl asserted sourly.

Uud looked at her curiously. “Her center? I’m not sure I understand what you mean. She’s just reached her majority, Syl, and she’s been sheltered most of her life. I doubt she even knows what her center is for.”

Syl rolled her eyes up to the sky in supplication. “Chaos save me from men and fools!”

She turned to Uud with a chuckle and shook her head. “Though gods know I’m pretty sure they’re one and the same most of the time. It’s because she’s been sheltered that she did this. She’s ripe and ready to be plucked and by this time I doubt she cares who does the plucking. Along comes a young man who’s big and strong as an ox, who puts himself between her and danger, and her center starts weeping, draining the brains from her head. Of course, she’s going to tie him to her, using whatever means possible.”

“She’s either heard or read all of the romantic stories and histories about the old Champions and her center, where all her brains are at by now, crafts the plot,” Syl continued explaining.

Uud considered it carefully. “I’m not sure you have the right of it, Syl. Ataya is mostly an innocent. I think she just watched him throw himself between her and a fireball – just like one of those fireballs she’d seen take out the rest of our cohort – and was so overwhelmed with gratitude and awe, she named him.”

“Have you truly not seen the way she looks at him?” Syl asked incredulously.

Uud looked over at her. “I’ve not noticed her looking at him in any particular fashion. She always seemed very proper in her interactions with him.”

“Why did the gods make men such fools?” The female knight asked the skies once again with a feigned put-upon voice. She turned back to her companion. “She looks at him with such lust and longing in her eyes, I’m not sure how she’s stopped herself from jumping him by now. She’s like a lioness sizing up her meal.”

“Really?” Uud asked, astonished. “Do you think Yren knows?”

“No,” Syl sighed. “He’s as clueless as you – as clueless as all men. Gillen has seen it, though, and has taken some steps to separate them as much as possible. I’m pretty sure she knows it won’t work, but she’s doing everything she can anyway.”

Uud was quiet for a moment, deep in thought. “Honestly, I think she could do worse. Yren is impressive. From a personal standpoint, I’m not sure it matters.”

Syl nodded. “I agree. From a political standpoint, though, it could be disastrous. She’s named him her champion in front of the world. Though Royal Knights took over the function of being champion, the law hasn’t been changed and by the law, that’s a lifetime appointment. She can’t get rid of him now. It would have been better if Gillen had just pushed him into her bed for a romp. If the time comes when her infatuation wears off, she may regret her choice. That could lead to an intolerable situation. If she tries to get rid of him – assassinate him – maybe even a civil war. Especially since Yren already has two women betrothed to him, one of whom is the arch-priestess of Deia. If the goddess gets upset...”

“That might be bad,” Uud agreed.

“You have a veritable gift for understatement,” Syl remarked sarcastically. “Gillen and I’ve discussed the repercussions, but there isn’t much we can do at this point except make sure things don’t go too far. Gillen thinks if she can keep Ataya from bedding him, she can stop this whole thing from falling apart. I’m not certain I agree. Chaos knows the ripest fruit is the one not yet tasted. Prolonging Ataya’s longing is more likely to make her want him more.”

“Well, I hope you’re wrong,” Uud replied, stretching in his saddle. “I hope you’re seeing things what aren’t really there.”

“You know the saying,” Syl remarked drily. “‘Hope in one hand and shit in the other and let me know which fills faster.’”

The two grew silent as they finished their journey down the sloping hillside, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

As they approached, they could see there was no real order to the gigantic camp, though the people did keep a few feet back from the road itself. It resembled a large, if transient, town. Tents of linen in every single shade of white and aged yellow were scattered here and there as far as the eye could see. Interspersed with those tents were temporary wooden dwellings and the odd, occasional wagon. There were hundreds of campfires, even in the hot sun, most of them with pots and pans of some kind cooking above them.

The people were uniformly both dirty and tired, mud and dirt and worse smattered over their hands and faces and clothing and great, dark bags full under their eyes. Even the children, who could usually be counted on to run and play games no matter how tired, were uniformly quiet and looked upon the knights with scared, worried eyes. There was a dark undertone in the conversation as the knights approached, and Uud and Syl found their hands drifting to their swords for re-assurance.

A woman walked up to the road, her face angry and her mouth set in a grim line. Her hair was graying, her face lined and leathery. Her right arm was in a sling, her hand wrapped in dirty bandages. “Go on! Keep moving! We don’t want your kind here!”

“We are the knights of the...” Syl started but the old woman interrupted her almost immediately.

“We knows who and whats you are!” The woman called, spittle flecking her cheeks. “We ain’t gots nothin’ fors ya. Just git and leave us be.”

Uud’s face darkened. He’d been a knight for most of his life, now, and he’d never been treated so by the common people. He drew his reins down to the pommel, his shield lowering slightly, and leaned forward to look closely at the women.

“We are the Queen’s Knights,” Uud remarked quietly. “You will treat us with respect.”

“Respect?!?” The woman spat. Her face was red and set in what appeared to be a perpetual grimace, but there were tears gathering in her eyes. “Youse want respect when its youse and those like youse what cost us our homes? What cost us our loved ones? Git and leave us be, sir knight! Just git and leave us be!”

The woman began to cry and turned. A younger man with broad shoulders and long, muscular arms grabbed her and pulled her to his chest. He had a great brown beard which hid his lower face, but his brown eyes were sharp and piercing under a wildly unkempt mane of slightly darker brown hair. The older woman wailed, her arms wrapping around the man and her sobs muffled by the man’s dirty, dark green shirt.

“F’give her, honors,” the man said, patting the woman on the back. “We’s had a hard time of it and she’s lost more’n most.”

“What does she mean, those like us cost her her loved ones and her home?” Syl asked soothingly.

“Most of us are from Klevel,” he responded, his cracked, leathery hands moving to the sobbing woman’s head. He patted her and smoothed down her wild graying locks. “It was our home. One evenin’, somat days ago, a bunch a knights came from t’capital and camped around town. They musta done somat bad a ‘cause these chaos-spawned demons followed ‘em in. The demons raised t’town. Burned it to t’ground.”

“Demons?” Syl asked, clarifying.

“Big, tey was,” the man nodded. “Big as a house. Big as a barn. Scaly and big. The knights knowed ‘em. The knights fought ‘em. Tey tried a lurin’ ‘em out a town and it worked – but den d’demons kilt t’knights to a body. Maybe a hunnerd knights tere was, all dead. Some few a ‘em were burned inside dere armor. Most a ‘em were ... I don’ know. Melted, looked like. Piles a melted meat and bones insides armor we’s can’t touch lest it melts our hands.”

“Dragons they is,” a woman interrupted, her face wary. She was younger, perhaps in her twenties with hair that had once probably been golden but was now brown with dirt and grease. She was thin and her hands were hard. She kept glancing at the skies, as if she expected them to appear. “Big dragons. Red and black, they was. Big, long wings on t’side o’ scaley bodies.”

“Dragons?” Uud asked speculatively.

“Tain’t no such thing as dragons,” the man said derisively. “Dragons is old tales. Kiddie tales. Tey was demons.”

“I know what I saw,” the woman spat back, rubbing her dirty hands on her dirty blouse. “Chaos knows I done pictured ‘em to my little one around the night fires enough to scare some sense into her ... back when she lived. What I saw was dragons.”

The big man considered her for a minute. He looked up at Uud and Syl, his lips pursed and his eyes bright. “Well, t’did appear as dragons,” he admitted. “Twasn’t dragons, tow. Dragons is old, kiddie tales. Had t’be demons pretendin’ t’be dragons.”

“Anyways,” he continued. “T’Demons weren’t happy wit t’knights, so as tey came back and burned us out a t’town. After t’town, the next night dey burned out t’farms and such wut was around Klevel. Tat’s where Wettle loss her wifes and husbands and tear little ones. They had a farm just outside a Klevel.”

“Can you describe what these demons looked like?” Syl asked. “In detail?”

“Shore,” the man said slowly. “Like I said, the one I see’d was big as a barn. It was scaly – with big, red scales. Even t’arms and t’legs were covered n’scales. The arms and feet had claws. Lots of claws. Big face wit’a long snout. Big holes for smellin’ and eyes like t’dinner plates. On each side had dese big wings – like mousers ... uh ... bats. I mean bats. Big bat wings what had claw on t’joints.”

Uud and Syl exchanged looks from the within their helms. What the man described certainly sounded like how the old stories depicted dragons. Although there were tales of dragons in faraway lands spread by merchants and the odd bard, they were still considered just stories. Even in the unlikely event dragons had once been real, they were gone now – extinct for eons.

“How sure are you...,” Uud started slowly but the man cut him off.

“I’s as close t’it as I be to t’hill you come down,” the man said. “And it was almost as big. I’s sure t’demon liked me t’believe t’was a dragon, but I knows t’difference. Tyln’s priest hisself done preached t’word on t’demons. He says t’false gods be letting ‘em in t’war wit Tyln’s faithful. We need t’ denound ‘ese falsity gods, he says, else t’demons’ll come fer us all!”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he looked speculatively at Uud and Syl. “Youse don’ follow t’falsity gods, d’yeh?”

Uud and Syl just glanced at each other. Luckily, they were saved from making a response when a burly fellow approached them. He was a tall man, almost as tall as Uud and very nearly as wide. He had a dark, swarthy complexion and a shock of uncombed, curly black hair cut tight over a high forehead. His face was streaked with dirt which only accented his bright, brown eyes. He had a thick bulbous nose over a few days growth of beard surrounding a thick-lipped mouth.

The man was obviously a blacksmith with the smell of burning wood surrounding him, and the hammers and tongs on his belt. He was clothed in a dark blue shirt, short-sleeved and open at the neck with thick, dark gray pants. He had a long, leather smock covering from his chest down to where it flapped a bit just above his knees, and it was spattered with streaks of metals, wax and other things. The man looked powerful, with corded forearms beneath the bulging short sleeves.

He also looked a bit on the annoyed side, his brown eyes narrowed and a look of subtle anger on his face. He didn’t appear happy to be confronting the older man holding the graying woman.

“‘At’s enough now, Jarvik,” the man interrupted in a booming, yet out of breath, voice. “We don’t want to cause the Queen’s knights any trouble.”

The two stared at each other for a few moments until the big man in green turned away.

“T’aint me causin’ t’trouble,” the man mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for the knights to hear him. “It’s all dem who ain’t bending their knee to the one, true god.”

The black man just shook his head as the other led the woman away. After a moment, he turned back to the two knights. “Forgive him. We’ve all had a rough time lately but for some it’s been more difficult than for others.”

“Who are you?” Syl asked.

“Edkin Mores, Lady Knight,” he said. “I’m ... well, I was a blacksmith in Klevel. One of three actually, but the others are dead. I’m the one who is, more or less, in charge here. As much as anyone can be in charge of this mob. Mostly, I just make sure everyone has enough to eat and drink, the horses are shoed and so on.”