The Chronicle of the Worthy Son

The Smoke Clears

However, Reeve answered the question, though he crossed his arms over his chest while doing so, "Well, they climbed in. Their best climbers approached from the east, using the log piles as cover, then climbed up the unfinished wall and put down the watchers, and then the rest rushed and threw grappling hooks and ropes and climbed in after them. Easily a hundred of them came in that way and overwhelmed Senior Deputy Grinder and his thirty men, and then they turned them out.

"In the meantime, perhaps twenty of them had cleared the town of villagers and set up watches of their own. Inside the fort, they used our powder stores to create flash bombs along the base of the western wall. For good measure, they used our records as tinder—or perhaps they stole them. They also weakened the uncompleted eastern wall from the inside, making the damage hard to see from the outside...but I could have ordered a closer inspection when there was no projectile response, so that's on me."

"Sir—" Tanner objected only to be waved off.

"Lastly they took up our armaments and horses. Those that outnumbered the horses, it seems, climbed back out at some point and took up hiding in the forest." Here Reeve cocked his head, daring Able to ask anything else.

"Did your scouts ever return?"

"No," Reeve replied with a quick glance towards the darkened woods, "and in addition to them, two men who pursued the insurgents into the forest are also unaccounted for. I expect I'll be getting terms for their release at some point." And he sighed tiredly.

"Terms..." Able looked again at the bodies. "What do you intend to do with the dead?"

"We'll attempt to identify them." Reeve shrugged. "There is some talk of trying to return them to their families, but even if they are related to anyone of import, I doubt it will do much good."

A frown pushed its way onto Able's face. "It would be the decent thing to do, though, wouldn't it?"

"Decent?" Tanner scoffed.

"They're indentureds who broke their contracts, then attacked our men." Reeve nodded at Tanner. "Decent is more than they deserve."

"I see." Able swallowed his objections. For all he knew, they were following Larbant protocol. "The Resistance must have been tipped off to your trap plan, yes? To know that the outpost was going to be undermanned."

Reeve offered a warning glare. "Our internal investigations are not matters of public record."

"Ah, of course," Able forced a harmless smile. "So, what are you going to do now? Capstone said this position is too valuable to lose."

"That I will not be sharing with you either, Chronicler."

"As if she needed to be any more in the doghouse," Tanner muttered with a snicker.

Able had started to nod to Reeve, but this motion snapped a turn towards Tanner. "He nearly blew her head off!"

Tanner arched an eyebrow. "If he had, maybe she'd have an excuse."

"And what's your excuse?" Able's nerves readily converged on this point he felt no need to second guess himself about. "She was the last line of defense on that transport—what exactly was the first up to?"

"You want to start something?" Tanner rolled his shoulders back as if his commanding officer would let him do anything.

"Enough." Reeve set his hand on Tanner's shoulder then coolly jutted his chin towards the entrance of the village, "Well, look who it is."

Tanner looked and chuckled.

"...who is it?" Able wasn't impressed by Reeve's choice of intervention but still curious enough to follow their gaze to where an elderly Borealunder was shouting at a deputy.

"Punctual Oaktree, the great protester," Tanner drawled. "Out protesting again. 'You can't build here, you can't touch that, you can't cut those trees.' I can hear it already, 'you can't take over the houses we vacated while we let your barracks burn to the ground.' Ha."

"I've half a mind to arrest that man," Reeve said humorlessly and started in that direction, but stalled long enough to nod to Able. "Houser."

"Godspeed, Sheriff," Able replied.

He briefly watched them head in that direction, but then sat down to mask the shudder that coursed through him. He couldn't watch what they did to Oaktree—couldn't watch anything anymore. He had to write. It was the only useful thing he could do now. But as he tried to note down the details he had gotten from the sheriff, his hand kept shaking.

"Able?" a concerned voice came from behind him. A familiar voice.

"Lark?" Able turned around until he saw the tailor standing behind him. He turned further to glance at the enforcers around the fire. They seemed equally taken unawares. "What are you doing here?"

"I came looking for you?" Lark raised his eyebrows, seeming to think that should be apparent.

"Oh my god." Able found himself both on his feet and lurching towards the one friendly face he had seen all day as if to cling to him, but he caught himself and covered his own face instead.

"Are you all right?" Lark touched his shoulder.

"No!" Able blurted then withdrew to stare at the ground with his cheeks burning. The injured men at the campfire were staring at him. "I mean, yes, I'm all right. I'm not hurt, I mean. But..." and he dropped to a whisper. "No, I'm not all right."

"Would you like to go?" Lark asked after a pause. "We won't be able to see our hands in front of our faces, but Fox probably still knows the way back."

Able raised his gaze again. "Back to Fairbanks? You still have the horse?"

"Of course I still have the horse!" Lark was laughing softly but also looking a little disquieted. How strangely was Able acting? "I'm not losing someone else's horse, no matter what nonsense is going on. Took her with me when folks came through shouting there was going to be trouble."

"So, you didn't see any of what happened?" Able asked before it occurred to him that Lark was probably disappointed about that...and really shouldn't be. Why was he even continuing the conversation when they could be leaving this whole piece of hell behind? He shouldered his bag and started walking.

"No, I saw some." Lark fell in beside him. "Not as much as you, it seems. Were you still inside when the fort lit up?"

"I wasn't, but I-I don't want to talk about it right now. I just..." Able took a breath. He didn't want to admit he was tired and hungry and wanted to go home. Didn't want to admit he was sick at heart and wished he had never come. Didn't want to risk breaking his emotional dam by opening a floodgate.

"This way." Lark took his elbow and led him away from the fire. Because Lark just knew.