Wychling

Chapter 18

~Well my love. This is really turning into one hell of a day~

Shimon looked at the black curling smoke reaching above the rooftops, hearing the shouting starting as folk converged on the dreaded fire. Even in a town with this much stone used in its buildings, most of the roofs were just clay tiles over wooden frames. Given the terraced structures in the poor quarter, fires could sweep down a street at a terrifying pace. So, when smoke flowed over the rooftops, everyone came running. He picked up his pace. So much for reporting to the Captain.

"Make way for the Watch!" He bellowed as people grabbed buckets, tubs, and anything that could hold water.

He rounded a corner only to be bowled over by a scrum of people running in the wrong direction. Catching a flash of an enormous man rushing past, he hit the ground hard, and looked up to see Brother Ryland. The Monk hurried off, pursued by three more Acolytes and chasing after the biggest man he had ever laid eyes on.

"Will you not even help?!" He screamed at their uncaring backs. Not a one stopped or even acknowledged his shout.

~Selfish bastards~ he thought savagely.

His town had extended them every aid on their bloody ghost hunt, but they couldn't even pitch in when every pair of hands was needed. He pushed himself up and sprinted the last two streets to the scene of the blaze.

A grey stone fountain sat at a crossroads, with the same grey stone sprawling out in all directions. Houses, streets, and alleyways all constructed in a uniform bleak stone; faded red clay tiles the only thing breaking the colourless monotony...until he saw the fire.

Tongues of red flame licking through second storey windows high to his left. Greasy black smoke pouring out and up. No sooner had that image registered with his mind, the flames burst anew from the lower windows of the house halfway down the street. Thicker, darker smoke racing free of the tight confines of the building.

The heat was incredible. Shimon had to look away, eyes streaming, and that was when he started to hear the screams. Many just the screams of panic, or orders, as people fought to bring the blaze under control. Distinct from these was the loud desperate pleading of a large man.

It was uncertain who he was pleading with; the people around him, or the Gods themselves, but it was certain that this was his house and that a son had run in to rescue a daughter. He was rocking back and forth on his knees, in everyone's way but too large to move.

People were skirting round him as they hurried to and fro. The quiet tragedy unfolding in the midst of the crackling flames and the frantic maelstrom of humanity surrounding him. Chaos was spreading, even the people that were helping were getting in each other's way. Shimon needed to take charge of the situation.

The front door gave way with a sound like thunder and the flames leapt from the now gaping hole that provided a glimpse into at least one religion's idea of hell. Everyone nearby was knocked down... some didn't rise. The fire roared anew. It was growing in power, feeding hungrily on the air that seemed to rush towards it. It was just a matter of time until it spread, and the conflagration might well take the whole damn street. Time for some unpopular orders.

"In the name of the Watch! On me! The houses either side need to come down, fast! If this spreads, it'll take the whole neighbourhood, maybe the whole City! Grab anything you can and start battering those walls! I need everyone working together to get anything flammable out and collapse these walls inwards. You lot, over there! Form a bucket line to the fountain!" He ordered pointing to a group clustered to one side, too shocked or stupid to be helping already.

There were enough spare people from other streets that the protests of the home owners were quickly drowned out, and they scurried for valuables as people began attacking their houses with hammers and crowbars. One enterprising group built a battering ram.

"You there! Get that ram as close as you can to the fire, and aim high, you don't want rubble falling on your heads!"

~This day just keeps giving my love~ thought Shimon as he pulled his whistle out and began a long continuous note. ~I haven't had a day so long since...well, since we were together~

With that sobering thought he brought himself quickly away from the years and miles of memories, and simply lived in the moment. He would never admit it out loud, but he had missed days like this. There was entirely too much thinking in his life now. A man needed a break from endless ruminations of the past sometimes.

He sent two more bystanders scurrying to the nearest bell-tower to announce an emergency as he saw flames licking into the roof of the neighbouring house. This fire seemed far more aggressive than even the greatest one he had seen. Hungrier somehow. He could no longer look at the windows as the fire turned white with the incredible heat. The bucket line couldn't get near it anymore and the smoke was a hazard he would need to be wary of. If the wind picked up it could suffocate half the people he had working for him.

"You there! With the battering ram! Move to the next house, we need that roof collapsed at the rush! Before the whole neighbourhood goes up! You people with the buckets, start soaking the buildings to either side, it won't catch if it's drenched through!"

As if to mock his statement, the flames again roared from the first house as the large man to his left sat rocking, sobbing unconsolably.

~Poor bastard~

It was clear that nothing could have survived this blaze. There wasn't a thing Shimon could do for him now, and he couldn't even spare the manpower to move him. He had more pressing issues at hand. The house to the right of the blaze had come down, checking the fire where it had been spreading fastest. Somehow as the rubble fell and the roof collapsed nobody committing the destruction was hurt, but the white-hot flames, instead of spreading up to the gap seemed to die off, like they were losing interest, despite the remaining fuel there.

Just as Shimon started to feel a little hope, the flames burst out of another window to the left of the house at the seat of the fire. Sparks flew and covered the other side of the street with smoke and embers. Shimon lost control of his limited manpower as folk ran to their own houses to stop fires starting, and all the while the flames started to build higher and higher to his left. There was something deeply unnatural about that...