This Red Sky

Chapter Eleven

They camped at the side of the dirt road, and begged bread and water from a passing merchant before setting off again. The walls of Palasotarr stretched high before them when the sun had climbed high in the sky.

A sprawling web of tents had sprung up around the walls. It was clear that Blackhost and Helvetzen were not the only villages destroyed. The noise was deafening as the people milled between the meager shelters, moving water, guarding the few living sheep and tending to the wounded that lay exposed, flies buzzing around their burns and cuts. A child's wailing cut above the din. Sonia stumbled as an old man pushed by her, muttering to herself.

"Are these your people?" Nakt asked.

Sonia looked around. The shepherds of Ost-Drachen and their families all looked the same, regardless of the village they were from. But she had never seen so many of the sun-beaten brown faces, or seen them look so drawn and worn. And she saw no one she recognized.

"I—they should be here," Sonia insisted. Nakt looked around as they passed between the tents, stepping to the side of a gaggle of thin children playing marbles with rocks in the dirt.

"Anything to keep an eye out for?" the highwayman asked.

Sonia searched the faces of the crowd. A maiden passed, holding a bucket of water in one hand, and a sheepskin-bound book under the other arm. Sonia recognized the runes painted on the spine, and the engraved wooden clips at the ends of her braids.

"Frida!" she shouted, running after the other girl.

Frida stopped with a start, looking horrified at the sight of Sonia rushing towards her, the armed Nakt following behind. She was shorter than Sonia, her darker hair falling out of the braids that usually constrained it. A smear of dried blood was on her cheek.

"Sonia," Frida said awkwardly, taking a step back. "Wow, you—you made it."

"A lot has happened," Sonia nodded. "How long have the people been here?"

"A few days," Frida glanced around furtively. She held onto the book more tightly.

"That's Elna's," Sonia pointed to it. She reached out to take it, but Frida held it away.

"I know," the girl looked more and more uncomfortable. "I was studying."

"Is—is Elna okay?"

"No," Frida admitted, still not relinquishing the book. "She's here, but she's ill. She fell sick with the fever on the road." Her fingers curled tightly on the spine. "It doesn't look good. I was going to take her place. After—after she's gone, I mean."

Sonia stared, confused.

"Frida, can you even read?"

"A little," Frida said defensively. "I'm learning."

"But—I've been studying under Elna since I was a little girl," Sonia could not comprehend what the maiden was telling her. Nakt watched apprehensively. "Did she—does she think I'm dead?"

"I don't think so. She keeps asking for you," Frida backed away. "Listen, my father—he'll explain what's happening."

She turned and beckoned the others through a space between two tents.

The faces here were familiar, but Sonia could not feel relieved. They looked at her with shock, and many traced the rune of repelling bad luck in the air, or over the heads of their children. Sonia forced herself to look straight ahead as she and Nakt followed Frida towards one of the tents.

"Father?" Frida called. "S—she's here."

Ashod emerged from behind the sheepskin flap of the tent. His face hardened at the sight of Sonia.

"You should go away," he said by way of greeting. "You've caused us enough suffering."

"Ashod, what do you mean?" Sonia's heart sank. The shepherd gestured around.

"All this," he declared. "Comes from the bad luck you've brought on our village. We should never have allowed a bastard to live among us."

Nakt scoffed. The shepherd looked to him.

"And who is this?"

"A friend," Sonia said without thinking. She glanced at the young highwayman, who did not contradict her. "I want to talk to Elna. Frida says she's asked for me."

"Elna doesn't know what she's saying," Ashod argued. "She lies in a fever dream. As the leader of our village, it is my duty to protect her."

"She needs me beside her," Sonia insisted, and moved to shove past him. Ashod grabbed her by the front of her shirt, shoving her back to the ground.

"Hey, what's the big deal?" Nakt stepped up angrily. A bone dagger emerged from Ashod's belt, and he brandished it at the younger man. Nakt reached for an arrow, but Sonia stopped him, getting to her feet.

"You know she would want me there," Sonia heard her voice turn to pleading.

"Elna is old and senile," Ashod announced. "She will pass before long, and Frida, my legitimate daughter, will be our priestess."

Sonia looked at the other girl, who looked down, clutching the book to her chest.

"Please let me in," she looked back to Ashod.

But the shepherds were gathering around him, and Sonia saw blades, clubs and spears in their hands.

"Go from here," Ashod told her. "Take this foreigner with you. If you had any love for our village, you'll never come back."

Sonia looked from Ashod, to the shepherds, to where Frida stood, eyes on the ground, to Nakt. She shook her head, turning and pushing past the other girl, away from Elna's tent.

Once she was out of sight of the people of Blackhost, Sonia sank to the ground, putting her head in her hands. Her skin and hair was crusted with blood, dirt, oil and sweat, and she closed her eyes, imagining herself back in Elna's hearth room, clean and dry, back when all she had to worry about was deciphering the priestess's heavy tomes and longing to be dancing instead.

"Elna, I'm so sorry," she whispered. Sonia wanted to cry, but as the tears gathered behind her eyes and Nakt sat beside her, she laughed instead, willing them away.

"What now?" the young man asked.

"I don't know," Sonia admitted.

"I know what I'm going to do," Nakt stood up. "I'm finding a tavern." He started towards the gates, pausing and offering a hand. "Come on. You look like you need a drink."

"But we don't have any money," Sonia reminded him.

"I'm a thief, remember?" Nakt pointed out with a mischievous grin. "I'm sure we'll come into some."

In another time, she would have protested. Now Sonia smiled in spite of herself. It had only just occurred to her that it was her nineteenth birthday.

She took his hand,and they joined the stream of travellers entering the massive gates