Silas
Silas' luck was with him. When he reached the field, the dappled mare was still there.
"Aren't you a good horse," he said, patting its muzzle. He could feel the heat of the flames behind him. The fire would consume the trees, and then move on to the grass. There was no telling how much it would burn before it wound down, but he didn't want to be near it when it did.
He lifted Eryn and laid her carefully across the horse, and then climbed up behind her. It took some effort to get her positioned to ride unconscious, but he got her secure and then ordered the horse back south. He would have preferred to head towards Elling, but she needed help - food, water, and rest. There was only one place he knew he could get any of that in a short time.
The minstrels weren't all that happy when Silas returned with their horse, since they knew he had gone chasing after the soldiers. Once Sena saw Eryn; however, she changed from a bawdy wench to a tender caretaker. She helped Silas get her down off the horse, and guided him to their carriage, where they laid her out on a bench. Her breathing was shallow, and her head was soaked in sweat.
"She might have a fever," Sena said. "Where did you find her, anyway? And why is her head shaved?"
"The less you know, the safer you'll be," Silas replied. "I rescued her from his soldiers."
She stroked Eryn's cheek. "Cursed, eh? She's a pretty young thing. She looks like she's been to Heden and back. I'll go fetch some cold water and cloth."
"Thank you, Sena."
"You want something for yourself? A flagon, maybe?"
Silas felt the temptation. He always did. "No. Just some water." He watched Eryn's breathing. "I couldn't save them," he said to her when Sena left. "I'll save you."
He was standing at the door to the carriage when Sena came back, Robar trailing behind her. "I hear you have one whopper of a tale," the minstrel said. "Rescuing a Cursed from his soldiers? As far as I know, it's never been done."
"It isn't the kind of song you can sing in an Elling tavern," Silas said. "Not unless you want to be hung."
Sena pushed past, holding a bucket and a rag. "Excuse me. I have a patient to tend to."
"Maybe not around here," Robar said. "But Elling is only one province. There are towns on the other side of the Killorn where songs about rebel heroes will pay quite well indeed."
"Rebel hero? No. I made a promise, that's all."
"To who?"
Murderer.
"To myself," he said.
"Maybe you see it that way. I'm a storyteller, and I know what stories to tell to get the people to part with their coin. A story about a man rescuing a girl from his soldiers? That will pay well in Aspin, I'm sure of it. The point is, part with your story, and we'll take good care of you. We can even sneak you into Elling City, if that's what you want."
"Tell me more about Aspin first. My memory is a little shady these days, but from what I know, his control over the Empire is absolute."
Robar laughed. "Once upon a time, it was. But it's been over four hundred years. Four hundred! There's been talk that he's dead and has been for some time. Who lives that long, anyway? If he is dead, then who do we fear? The Overlords? His soldiers? I'm a performer. I don't get involved in politics, outside of the tales I can tell, but what I do know is that more and more people are questioning every day. More and more Cursed are showing up, and the townspeople and villagers are growing weary of having their sons and daughters taken away or killed for no reason at all. Once you throw in the others being taken to work the ore mines, this empire is ripe for rebellion."
Silas was surprised to hear such open talk about such things. "Are you a performer, or a trouble maker?"
Robar laughed even harder at that. "Is there a difference? I tell tales based on what I see and hear. I may embellish, but everything has a ring of truth. Even 'Your Merry Stones'. The anger is simmering just below the surface, even here. It's only a matter of time before it begins to materialize into action."
Silas was considering the minstrels words when he heard a small groan from the carriage. "Let me care for my charge. We'll speak later. Don't even entertain the idea of bringing his soldiers here. Even if they caught me, I would be sure to kill you first."
Robar's mirth faded, and he backed away.
Silas climbed up into the carriage, and shooed Sena out. "I need to speak to her alone," he said.
"Make sure her forehead is kept damp, it will help with the fever," Sena said. "I'll see if we have anything for her to eat." She gave Eryn one last worried look, and left.
Silas kneeled down in the center of the carriage, leaning over Eryn's face. He took the cloth and dunked it in the bucket, then squeezed it and ran it along her head. She groaned again, and her eyes opened just a hair.
"You," she said.
"Do you know me, child?" he asked.
Her eyes opened the rest of the way, and she tried to sit up. "The soldiers," she said in a harsh whisper.
Silas put his hand to her chest, and gently shoved her back down. "Rest, child. You're safe here."
She didn't resist him. "Where are we?"
"How much do you remember? Keep your voice low. You are safe, but your words may not be."
"I saw you," she said. "I saw you at the merchant's. You bought a bowl of stew. I knew who you were, from what the soldiers said. A man with white hair and blue eyes. I followed you to make sure. I thought you could help me."
"Help you?"
"Yes. The soldiers, they.... They..."
Silas dunked the cloth again, using it to dampen her forehead as Sena instructed. "Shh... you don't have to say it, child. I'm aware of what his soldiers do." I used to be one.
"The soldiers went by on horses. I saw a girl who looked like me. I thought they took her because she looked like me. I didn't want them to kill her because I escaped." She pushed herself up again. "Is she here? Is she safe?"
Silas wasn't sure what to say. He decided that lies would only extend the pain. "I'm sorry. I tried to save them all. Do you remember?"
She shook her head, and started to cry. Silas sat there, his hand holding the cloth over the bucket.
Murderer.
Her tears broke his heart. He dropped the cloth, and reached out tentatively. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight, sobbing into his shoulder.
"She died because of me," she said. "Because I got away. It isn't fair."
Silas held her, and rubbed her back. He couldn't even remember the last time he had comforted someone. Had it been his son, so many years ago when he was just a boy? Before he had developed the Curse? Before he had ordered for him to be hunted down? The pain she was feeling, he had caused. Not only to her, but to countless others. He felt the bite of it in his heart.
"Eryn," he said. "That is your name, yes?"
He felt her nod against his neck.
"Eryn, it isn't your fault. You did everything you could. I was there in the trees. I saw you come out, with a stone in your hand."
He pushed her away with utmost care, and reached into his pocket, finding the blue stone there. He took it out and showed it to her, and then turned her hand over. There was a burn on her palm, in the perfect size of the stone.
"You used your Curse to make this stone send lightning everywhere. I don't know how you did that. You set fire to the trees, and the tents. Do you remember any of it?" He dropped the stone into her open palm.
She shook her head again, but she had stopped crying when she saw the stone. "I took that stone from a woman in black robes. Her name was Lia. She killed my brother Roddin, and she tried to kill me too."
"They're called Mediators," he said. "They're Cursed, like you. They have power, like you."
"Did I kill the girl?" she asked.
"No. When I saw you, I came out to protect you. I killed one of the Mediators, and the soldiers began firing arrows at the prisoners."
"Prisoners? There were more than one?"
Silas nodded. "There were seven. I don't know if the girl was Cursed, or if they just thought she was. The rest surely were. They didn't fight back, not like you did. I've never seen a Cursed fight back like you did."
She looked like she was going to cry again, but she didn't. "I don't remember it," she said.
"You saved my life. There was another Mediator, he had a red ring that shot fire at me. Somehow you threw me out of the way. You stood up to him."
"I wish I could remember. Did you kill him too?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Silas couldn't help but smile. "That was when you fell unconscious. I carried you out of the trees and brought you back to the minstrels. You have a fever, Eryn. You need to rest."
"The soldiers?"
"They'll be along soon enough, looking for both of us, I'm afraid. But not tonight."
Eryn laid back down and closed her eyes. Silas reached into the bucket to retrieve the cloth, and wiped her forehead with it again. There was a knock on the carriage door.
"It's me," Sena said. "I have some soup for the girl."
Silas leaned over and opened the door. The minstrel handed him a cup of hot soup. "Tell Robar I'll do my best to help him fashion the greatest story ever told. My only request is that he gets the girl and I into the city unseen by his soldiers."
Sena pursed her lips and nodded. Silas brought the soup over to Eryn. "Drink this," he said. "You'll need your strength."
She sat up again, and took it from him. "What are we going to do now?"
"What do you mean we?" Silas had saved her from the soldiers. That was all he had ever intended to do.
"I need your help," she said. "I'm from a small village called Watertown. The soldiers destroyed it. My parents and brother are dead, because they destroyed them too. I want to find him, and I want to kill him. What is it that you want, Silas?"
It was the first time she had used his name. He hadn't even known she knew it. She was a strong one, he realized. She had followed him, in order to help him try to save the girl, because she didn't want her to die in her place. She had used her Curse to save his life, and to try to save the prisoners, when most Cursed he had seen were too terrified of it to call on it for anything.
"Well?" she asked.
He knew he didn't want to lie. Not to himself, or to her. Not anymore.
Murderer.
"I have to tell you something, Eryn. It is... difficult for me to say, and it will be difficult for you to hear. When I'm done, you may not ever want to speak to me again."
She tilted her head. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she looked sweaty and tired. He knew he shouldn't be telling her this, not now while she was sick, but he couldn't bear the thought of not telling her. She was Cursed, like his son had been. She deserved to know.
"I don't know everything. My memories are like the lights in the sky, and when I try to reach out and grab at one, I always come away empty handed. Some of them have fallen recently, and I've discovered things about myself that I had spent many years trying very hard to forget. The most important one is that I used to be in his army. I used to be one of his soldiers."
He raised his hand, because she looked like she was going to speak, maybe to comfort him, or maybe to scream at him. He wanted her to hear him out. She took a drink from the soup instead.
"It is more than that. I wasn't just a soldier, I was a commander. I was in charge of other soldiers. What happened to your village, and your parents..." It was here he began to break down, to lose himself in the anguish of the memories. He choked on the words, but he fought through it. "I've given those orders. I've sent soldiers to burn down houses, and murder innocent people. I've murdered them myself."
Murderer.
Eryn dropped the bowl of soup, spilling it all over the floor. She didn't take her eyes from him. She hung on every word.
"I was married. I had two sons. Teran and Aren. Teran wanted to be like his father, so he joined his army. Aren was a scholar, and he spent his days with books. Then, when Aren was eighteen, he decided he was done with learning, and he went off to become a farmer. He took a wife, and he moved to a village near Root."
Silas was crying now as he spoke, the tears dripping from his face onto the floor, mixing with the spilled soup.
"I received a report that there was a farmer in one of the villages who was Cursed. After some investigation, I found out that it was Aren. I told my wife what I had learned, and I told her what I knew I had to do. You can imagine how much she hated me for even suggesting it, but I went through with it anyway. I dispatched a Mediator and a squad of soldiers to bring him in."
He looked up at her, and met her eyes. He saw the anger, and the coldness. He saw the hate and the rage. He didn't shy away from it, instead absorbing every thought that he imagined could be going through her head.
"They never brought him in."
Murderer.
"My wife left me the day the soldiers came and told us that he had run, and the Mediator had killed him. She wanted to get away from this place, from his empire. She found a ship that was sailing across the sea to the unknown lands, lands that none have ever returned from. She said she would rather be smashed upon rocks, or drown in the deep ocean, than ever have to look at my face again.
"Since I've remembered these things, I swore to myself that I would do my best to make up for them. That I would do what I could to protect the Cursed, to save the lives of innocents, and to fight against his rule. It won't bring Aren back, and it won't bring Alyssa back, but maybe there is some good in these old bones. Maybe I can at least die as a man my love would be proud of. You ask me what I want, Eryn. That is it."
The silence stretched on. He waited for her reaction.
"I want you to get out," Eryn said. "Just leave me alone."
Silas nodded, and rose to his feet.
"I'll have Sena bring you more soup."