The Fabulist by Andrew Johnston - HTML preview

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CHAPTER 25

~Date Unknown~

 

 

The journey through the badlands at the edge of the Shivan Desert would prove a new experience for Storyteller, far different than his previous journey with Lifebringer's retinue. The wind here was unusually savage, carrying the loose dust of the desert and pouring it across the land for days at a stretch. This had become merely another part of life in the south since the disaster - the ruined soil, held in place by naught but a few patches of grass, moved freely with the winds. It wasn't merely sand, though, but particles of concrete, glass, and- many suspected - more toxic materials. As a result, those who lived and worked in the area learned to protect themselves from the storms, shrouding themselves when the skies grew dark.

Lifebringer's attendants had learned to do as the natives did, and outfitted themselves appropriately. Their garb resembled armor more than clothing, with heavy padding covering every inch of flesh and a gauzy wrap to cover the mouth and nose. The storm outfits were uniform, differing only in their level of wear and otherwise offering nothing to distinguish one person from another. This conformity of appearance was a true gift to Storyteller, being exactly what he needed as they advanced through Conqueror's territory.

Storyteller drew back his face wrap. "Will they not become suspicious? The storms have died down."

"People wear these things all the time. No one will suspect a thing." Lifebringer adjusted Storyteller's face wrap, then glanced back over his shoulder at the settlement. "Okay, I need to make a few things clear before we go in there. The only reason Conqueror allows us to operate in his territory is because he doesn't consider us a threat. If he finds you with us, we'll all end up either in shackles or shallow graves, understand?"

"I understand," said Storyteller. "I'll do as you ask."

"You'd better. That mindset will save your life." Lifebringer turned back towards the settlement. "The settlements on the fringe of Conqueror's territory are always the ugliest. I guarantee that you will see things in there that you'll want to stop. You can't. The only thing we're allowed to do is pick up the pieces after the ugliness has passed. Anything else, we're dead."

"Your words don't exactly put me at ease," said Storyteller.

"Just keep your mouth shut and do as you're told, you'll be fine. Just remember, I'm putting myself out for you. We all are." Lifebringer gestured to the rest of his group. "All right, let's go."

The group gathered up their tools and trudged up the half-buried path towards the walls of the settlement. This itself was an oddity - walls were a feature of northern settlements, where attacks by bands of raiders were a fact of life. Presumably, these walls had been erected by Conqueror's men, but whether this was a fortress or a prison was known only to the warriors. Many of the guard posts along the wall faced inward rather than out, the better to control the people dwelling there. There was but one man, clad in the usual red and black and carrying a longbow, who watched out over the path. Storyteller was newly thankful for his face-obscuring clothes, for he knew that even without specific knowledge of his appearance, it would take but one tense expression to give him away.

What Storyteller saw beyond the gates gave him immediate context for Lifebringer's earlier warnings. There were nearly as many warriors here as there were settlers - more than he'd seen in Conqueror's palace, even, and exceptionally well-armed. The place had the look of a depot, a place where Conqueror's men could rest and gather supplies before heading out on expeditions in the north and west. There was an odd calm here, a casual nature that Storyteller would not expect to see at the edge of an empire of slaves. His only reckoning was that after years of living with these men, fear had become mundane for the people who dwelt here.

One of the guards approached Lifebringer. "You're the healer, correct? The wanderer?"

"That's right," said Lifebringer. "We were redirected by the storm. We did not intend to make camp here, so we'll be gone shortly."

The guard held out an arm to block Lifebringer. "Not so fast. My men have returned from a long campaign, and we have need of your services. Give us your aid, and I'll see to it that you are generously supplied." He grabbed Lifebringer by the shoulder. "I insist."

"Very well, but we can only manage a brief stay." Lifebringer clapped his hands to summon his retinue. "All right, here's the plan. You will circulate in pairs, giving aid to whomever needs it. I will be in the center of the encampment; if you find someone with a serious problem, you can find me there. Now, I'll need some assistants...you, and..." He pointed at Storyteller. "...you. Let's get started."

There was a group awaiting at the encampment's heart - not the usual socializing villagers, but a band of guards nearly a dozen strong, all carrying weapons, some still in their armor. A few were wounded, but offered no sign of pain or distress. These were Conqueror's elite, men endowed not merely with strength but with the same single-minded obsession that pushed Conqueror to drive his borders outward. Storyteller felt very conspicuous here, but all eyes were on Lifebringer as the warriors awaited his consultation.

The first man to approach Lifebringer was a large tan-skinned man with battle scars crossing his face, his arm wrapped in a filthy rag. By the way the others stepped aside as he passed, he was obviously a warrior of some advanced rank in Conqueror's army. "You are the healer?"

"That I am," said Lifebringer, opening his bag. "What do you need?"

"I was injured in a skirmish with raiders. It is a trivial wound, but the pain grows worse by the day." The warrior removed the rag, revealing an ugly, running laceration. "Is there something you can do?"

"It's clearly infected," said Lifebringer as he dug through his belongings. "I'll need to clean it and suture it shut before I rebind it. It won't be pleasant."

"Don't concern yourself with my pain," said the warrior. "It means little to me."

Lifebringer hadn't even the time to find his instruments when there came a commotion, a fracas at the other end of the square. All heads turned at once, and for a moment Storyteller felt free of scrutiny, though his relief faded once he saw what was transpiring. There was a settler, bony and sallow-faced, charging at a pair of guards with a rusty hoe lifted high over his head, screaming with rage. The guards swiftly disarmed him and knocked him back, which only further enraged the settler, who clawed at the guards with his bare hands in some futile effort to draw blood.

The warrior at Lifebringer's side surveyed at the scene. "What's going on?"

The settler tore away from the guards and stomped over to the elite warrior. "Do you know what your men have done? They've been down at my shack, robbing me blind! They've left me with nothing! We can't live on the scraps that they left behind!"

"We were only taking Conqueror's share, sir," said one of the guards. "He objected to the size of the cut, but it was no greater than we take from anyone else. No greater than what we've asked from him before."

"Liar!" howled the settler. "These men are thieves, filling their pockets!"

The elite warrior glared back at the man with nary a trace of emotion. "You know the price you must pay to live freely on Conqueror's lands. Every workman must devote some of his time to repairing our vehicles, every craftsman owes our lord part of his work, and every farmer owes the first portion of his crop to feed the men. That is the cost of security, and it is reasonable. The raiders take far more."

"But we had an agreement with them!" said the settler.

"An agreement?" said the warrior. "Conqueror's tax is absolute. My men are not authorized to make agreements to the contrary."

"It was..." The settled swallowed hard. "...It was a personal deal."

"An illicit bargain, then?" said the warrior. "So you admit to bribery?"

"Worse," said the settler, emotion trembling in his words. "It was...my wife made a deal with them. We heard them talking about their unmet needs. She promised that if they would take less, she-"

The warrior smashed his fist against the ground. "Don't say another word, I don't wish to hear the details of whatever debauched deal you brokered with my men. I certainly have no intention of honoring anything so vile. You owe what you owe and I'll hear no more about it."

"But what...but she..." The settler was in tears, robbed of calm speech, only able to wail. "What about them, your men? What are you going to do about them?"

The warrior waved him away. "I will discipline them later. The means should not concern you."

"Of course it concerns me!" shrieked the settler.

"My men acted out of foolishness and impulse," said the warrior. "You tried to sell someone you loved as though she were cattle. Whose crime is truly worse? Count yourself lucky that I have not focused my attention upon you."

The settler's face turned bright red and he clenched his teeth together. "You bastard! You act like the king of this place but you can't even control your own men!"

"Mind your words," said the warrior. "You are to show respect to your betters."

"You are no one's better," said the settler. "You are a clown!"

The warrior nodded to his men. "Enough of this. Punish him."

It took only a moment for the settler's rage to dissipate, replaced by a visible dread. The other men were already upon him, blocking any possibility of retreat. The settler tried to flee anyway, only to be shoved back to the ground repeatedly. The guards seemed to make a game of it, allowing the terrified man to pass just an inch beyond them before forcing him back, giving him hope just to snatch it away. Eventually, one of the guards, weary from the exercise, grabbed the hoe from the ground and swung it at the settler,  the dull blade catching him just beneath the ribs on his left side. The salvaged wooden handle, run through with invisible with rot, exploded into splinters from the force of the blow. The settler hit the ground, face in the dirt, a trickle of blood running out from beneath him. Another guard drove his boot into the settler's back, eliciting a sad and agonized gasp - feeble proof that he was still alive.

"Enough." The warrior turned away from the spectacle and back toward Lifebringer. "Continue your work."

Lifebringer leaped to his feet and bolted to the injured settler's side, pushing aside the guards. "Attendants," he said, gesturing to Storyteller. "Come quickly."

The warrior rose and walked to Lifebringer and the injured settler. "What are you doing?"

"I'm treating this man's wounds. I'm a healer. It's my job. My duty." Lifebringer tore away the settler's garment and studied the wound. "The laceration isn't severe, but it could become infected. He could have a broken rib, too. I'm not sure if I'm equipped for this, but we'll try."

"Leave him." The warrior grabbed Lifebringer by the shoulder. "Didn't you hear what he said? This man is scum."

"Be that as it may, I'm obliged to help him," said Lifebringer.

The warrior squeezed Lifebringer's arm with all his strength. "You didn't hear me, healer. I told you to leave him."

Lifebringer winced from the warrior's grip, but otherwise remained focused on his patient. "I have my obligations. I can't leave someone to die."

"Stand up!" bellowed the warrior.

"Once I've seen to this man," said Lifebringer. "Not a minute sooner."

The warrior let out a furious roar and delivered a fierce kick to Lifebringer's chest, knocking him clear of the wounded settler. "I bear the authority of the Conqueror of the Southern Wastes. No one ignores me, least of all some self-appointed healer!" He planted one metal-shod boot on Lifebringer's prone form, pressing on his chest. "Now beg my forgiveness."

Lifebringer gasped for air. "...Can't."

"You're making a mistake, healer." The warrior planted the tip of his boot under Lifebringer's back as he pulled a hatchet from a hangar on his belt. "Now, to your knees and beg for your life, while I still have mercy to offer you."

Storyteller sprinted to Lifebringer's side, kneeling by the hurt man. "Please, great warrior, do not slay this man. We cannot live without his guidance."

"That would be a fine thought if it came from him," said the warrior. "From you, it's sorely lacking."

"Can't you see that this is not a practical man?" said Storyteller. "His head is in the clouds, not on the same field as you or I. He believes that he can rescue the world with his healing art."

"Then he's a fool," said the warrior. "A healer's only duty is to keep important men alive."

"And you realize this, but he refuses. So why would you exert yourself to end a fool's life?" Storyteller rose to his feet. "A giant should not waste his strength on a mite."

"True enough." The warrior returned his hatchet to its hangar. "I'll let him go this time, but if he ever acts that way again, he'll be dead before the words are out of his mouth. And I want him out of my sight and my settlement."

"Thank you." Storyteller wrapped his arm around Lifebringer and helped him walk back to the other attendants. "Are you injured? Did he break your ribs?"

"My ribs are fine," said Lifebringer. "What about the man I was treating?"

Storyteller glanced back at the wounded man, being carried off by others from the settlement. "He seems to be breathing."

"Good." Lifebringer cringed, but shook off the pain. "Someone attend to him."

"We are still being observed," said Storyteller. "I don't think this would be wise. They expect us to depart immediately, do they not?"

"Not until I've had the chance..." Lifebringer sighed, an agonizing act with his new wounds. "...Fine. Everyone gather your things, we're leaving at once."

"Best that we remove you from danger first," said Storyteller, walking with Lifebringer through the gates. "You are certain that your injuries are not severe?"

Lifebringer elbowed Storyteller aside, wincing with pain but keeping his feet. "I'm fine."

The other attendants were gathering around the two of them, toting medical bags clumsily and hastily packed. Some of them jogged to Lifebringer, who only reluctantly allowed them to examine him. Storyteller stood to the side, the other attendants drawing to him.

"That was amazing," one of them said. "You've saved Lifebringer twice now, do you realize that?"

"And he has steered me out of danger twice," said Storyteller. "To my mind, this makes us even."

"Well, we all owe you one," said another attendant. "This was the closest we've ever come to losing our leader, and..." She leaned in close and whispered. "...For such a silly reason."

"Silly? There's nothing silly about helping a man in trouble." Storyteller sent a smile to Lifebringer. "That's your cause, yes? That devotion is the difference between foolishness and heroism. Anyone can throw his life away, but it takes a special person to do so on behalf of another."

"Enough of your flattery," said Lifebringer. "We're nearly clear of Conqueror's territory. We should keep moving. The sooner I'm rid of you, the better we'll all be."

Storyteller dipped his head. "Yes, I suppose gratitude was more than I should have expected."

"Don't preach to me," said Lifebringer. "You're still a dreamer."

"That I am," said Storyteller. "I'm just a man with a dream. There's not a soul left to mourn for me if I die in the wastes, and I have no family legacy to keep up."

"Family legacy?" One of the attendants seeing to Lifebringer raised his voice. "Lifebringer, you told him that story?"

"I told him nothing!" Lifebringer swatted the attendants aside and dropped to a sitting position. "...You asked about the pin before? Well, it's no heirloom. I found it in the ruins of a building not long after we came out of the shelter. There's no medical tradition in my family, at least not as far as I know. What do I know about my family? They're all dead, beyond that it's pointless to know. But I put the pin on, and people came to me for help, came to me to keep them alive. I accepted that responsibility and I still do."

"I see," said Storyteller. "I apologize for prodding at an old wound. I can see how this talk about my own past would harm you so."

"Drop the phony understanding!" said Lifebringer. "I don't need or want your pity. Yes, I'm a man without a past, but you're a man without a future. These little stories of yours might impress people now, but you'll run out one day. You'll cannibalize your past and have nothing left, and then what? What will you do when your memories abandon you?"

"I don't know," said Storyteller. "Perhaps it's time I take my leave. As you said, we are nearly free of Conqueror's clutches. Goodbye, Lifebringer."

As Storyteller turned to leave, Lifebringer raised his hand. "No. I made a promise and I'm keeping it. You'll travel with us until we reach the trade roads."

"You are a man of true honor," said Storyteller.

"...Honor." Lifebringer shook his head ruefully. "Storyteller?"

"Something else?"

Lifebringer cast his eyes down. "...I'm sorry I ripped up that paper."

"It's okay," said Storyteller. "I'd long since memorized it. It's high time I wrote something new. There are yet stories untold."