Chapter 102: Sir Rickard came to the rescue (2)

We walked slowly and carefully down into the village. Kerrass seemed as though he was beginning to get nervous, his hands clenching occasionally and eyes shifting from side to side with nervous jerks from one direction to the other.

I wasn't worried yet but.... I resolved to keep an eye on him. It had been a while since his last period of “mutation based depression” which is what we call it whenever he has a shutdown for no apparent reason. Theoretically this meant that he might be due for another one soon. But now was not the time to think about it. I knew he was worried about the library and the attendants but we still needed to check what was happening. It is always a mistake to go rushing in without caution.

The village looked as though it was in shock. As an entity I mean, a couple of people were doing their best to do some work, the normal kind of spring jobs of tidying up after winter storms, making repairs to houses as well as working what bits of garden and vegetable patches that they might have lying around. But if you watched closely, the people that were doing the work would stop suddenly and sit down to stare into space for extended periods of time. It was also so quiet. At this time of day you would expect to see children running around, laughing, joking and playing games. Elders would be gossiping at gates and doorways, there would be tobacco smoke and the scent of wood sap.

You have to remember that villages are noisy places really. Villagers don't have time to be quiet or to spend their time messing around with stupid things like propriety. Children, animals, adults and old folks living and working together in a relatively small space makes for a lot of noise. Hammering, sawing, shouting, laughing, crying and generally living in one place.

Here it was quiet. A hushed sense of....dread and fatigue. It felt like dread as well as a sullen anger that threatened to break free and overwhelm anyone that might be watching.

I'd seen this kind of thing before as well as the burnings. You used to see it quite regularly in the aftermath of war as the armies of two nations rolled over so many of the villages taking what food wasn't locked down or hidden, abusing what women they could see and comandeering what able-bodied men there were that hadn't been taken by the recruiting sergeant before. It was almost like the place was in shock. Trying to decide what to do as well as asking the age-old unanswerable question of “why us?”

They were thinking about survival, what they had to do to carry on and wondering whether it was worth the effort.

We walked down slowly. Already I could tell that a couple of the houses were deserted, shutters closed, no smoke rising from the chimneys. The fact that the places still seemed in relatively good repair told me that this was a recent thing.

We rode on.

“Didn't expect to see you here.” A woman called to us. We both spun in the road to see where the call came from. Spun a little too quickly showing how on edge we were. The woman pretended not to notice.

“Maiden Karreen.” Kerrass said forcing a smile. He passed the reins over to me before going over to embrace the ageing woman who accepted his hug with good grace before giving him a playful slap.

“Hark at you calling me “Maiden.” They call me “old Mother” Kareen now.”

I recognised her from my previous visit. When I had last seen her she had been a handsome woman in her fifties, tall, proud with silver hair and a spine of steel. She had stood, unbent, as she told me how she had buried two husbands. One to sickness and one to a mine collapse and was well onto her third while she ruled over a tribe of children and grand-children. She wasn't an Ealdorman or anyone of significance on a town council or anything but she was important. The kind of woman that people turn to when they need some good and proper advice.

She hadn't changed a great deal but those changes were important. She had a large bruise on the side of her face as well as a split lip and a heavy limp which meant that she was walking with the aid of a badly improvised crutch that looked as though it had once been a broom. When she spoke there was a whistling sound that came from the fact that she was missing several teeth and her mouth hadn't yet adjusted to the lack.

“Does that mean you won't run away with me this time?” Kerrass asked her. The joke was feebly made and both he and Kareen knew it.

“Cheeky. I remember you Witcher.” She said it with a tired smile. “All charm and false promises.”

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“It was never false when it came to you Maiden Kareen.”

“No longer a maiden Witcher.” her attempt at maintaining a sense of humour was slipping.

“You will always be a maiden to me Kareen.” As was Kerrass'

As a note, in the local area it seemed that the term that prefixed a woman's name was a mixture of local custom as well as a description of status. If a woman was called “Maiden” then it meant that she was an eligible woman of child rearing age. You might also use the term to describe someone that you consider to be a great beauty so it would occasionally be used between husband and wife. “Mother” described a married woman, regardless of whether or not children had been produced and “Old Mother” meant a woman with Grandchildren or as a term of respect.

As another interesting point. For men, they would be given their proffession before their given name so a man might be called. “Thatcher John of Rivia,” or “Cooper William of Yellowdowns.”

I would make a study of it if I had more time, but Philology and Anthropology aren't really my field.

Kareen led us over to her house, one of the larger ones towards the centre of the village. She steadfastly refused any offers of support from Kerrass and insisted on making us tea and offered us cake despite our protests. We sat out in the garden. The unfortunate effect of which was that we could see the stakes standing out in the view. In the end I admitted defeat and turned away so that I wouldn't have to look at them while Kareen told me stories about how a young Kerrass had turned up tot he village and offered to “take her away from all of this,”

Kerrass laughed along with her and we made small talk for as long as possible until she eventually ran out of words.

“What happened Kareen?” Kerrass asked.

“They came from the North, over towards Rivia way.” She told us. “Came sort of middayish about two weeks ago and demanded food and water.” Thanks for reading on ManaNovel!

“Who were they?”

“Knights,” she said shaking her head. “Had these strange read tabbards on with a flaming sword on the front. Bastards.”

Hearing her swear was odd. Strangely endearing.

“What happened?”

“They knew exactly what they were looking for. They were barely here to stop and water their horses before they headed off up the hill.”

The haunted look that was in Kerrass' eyes became shadowed.

Saying that something was “up the hill” was roughly from where the library and it's attendants were. He stood, staring off into the distance. He made to stand up but she caught him by the sleeve. “I'm so sorry Witcher.” She told him. “We loved them too.”

He nodded and gently pulled free before walking to the edge of the garden and leaning on a fence post.

“Who we...” I had to clear my throat past the emotion that was suddenly blocking it. “Who were they?” I asked pointing at the stakes.”

“Just women and a couple of men. They were busy little stakes those half a dozen or so. Went through the last of the villages firewood supplies keeping those fires burning.”

“Did they say why?” I asked although I didn't expect an answer. Anyone who proudly wears a tabbard that displays a flaming sword and does this kind of thing doesn't really need a reason.

“They did actually. Apparently all of them had been with her”.

I nodded to show that I knew what she was talking about. That would be enough to a certain kind of religious knight.

“They stood in front of them, chanting as they all burned.” Now that the woman had started to talk it seemed that she had uncorked the bottle it seemed that she couldn't stop. “They did this thing with the wood that meant that it wouldn't smoke.”

I nodded. I had heard of that kind of thing before. “They wanted them to die from the flames and the heat rather than the smoke.”

She nodded and I saw suspicious wetness in the corners of her eyes. She hadn't seemed like the kind of person that would shed tears. “They had a priest with them. He stood before the flames and told us all that we were blessed. Blessed to see that.” Her voice shook as she said that last.

She took a moment to steady her voice.

“They burned my son.”

“I'm so sorry.” I said even though I knew that it wouldn't help her. I put my hand on her shoulder in an effort to pass on some strength. She patted the hand with some gratitude.

“What's that?” Kerrass pointed. Between the houses there was a small lane and at the end of the lane there was a large tree. From one of the low hanging branches there was another body swinging by a rope. Kareen rose to her feet to see what Kerrass was looking at. This time she accepted my help to rise before I lowered her back to the seat.

Kareen was looking around furtively.

“That was the bastard that brought them here.” She said it almost quietly. A whisper.

Kerrass had come back to hear and sat back down “A villager?” he asked.

“Sshh.” she gestured for silence. “They told us that there were more people here and that they would be watching us.”

“You know that that was probably a lie to keep you nervous?” Kerrass said.

Kareen lowered her eyes.

“Of course we know that but...” She spread her hands that were trembling. “But what if they aren't?” She wailed.

Kerrass nodded turning away.

I made placating gestures in an effort to keep her calm.

“The son of a bitch has killed this village.” She hissed abruptly. “Three families have left already. Another two are packing. Friends, good friends look at each other with distrust now. We can't trust each other. That's the thought, that anyone could be a traitor. We daren't even go up there to bury them. We were ordered not to. Told that they needed to be left out there as a warning to any that might come afterwards. I wanted to go but... I daren't. I'm so....so sorry.

“Sssh, Sshh.” I did my best to calm her but even I could tell that she was a woman on the edge of her endurance. “No-one told us not to care for the fallen. We'll take care of them.”

She nodded and silence fell as she began to calm down for a moment.

“What happened to him?” Kerrass gestured towards the corpse on the tree.

“I don't know,” she lied. It was so blatant that both Kerrass and I looked at her sharply. “That bastard killed us. Why?” We didn't look at her. We didn't need to. Her rage and pain was spilling over. “Because a woman turned him down. Because she turned him down.” She snarled that last.

There was no need to ask what had happened. The village had lynched him. But now they were afraid of reprisals.

“He killed a village. He killed us.”

I caught Kerrass' eyes and he nodded. I went into the house to make the poor woman something herbal to help her calm down. When I came back Kerrass was crouched in front of her.

“I have to go,” he was telling her. “I am so sorry.”

She was nodding. “You were so handsome Kerrass.” She told him.

I waited in the doorway to let them have this moment of privacy.

“Were?” He tried for a joke.

“Old age changes a woman's desires.” She said softly. “But I so nearly went with you.”

“You would have been bored,” he told her, doing his best to be kind. “You would have had no children with me. And then you would have been alone.”

“But I would have had you,” she told him. “I would have had you, and I would have been spared all of this.”

“No,” he told her. “No you wouldn't. You would have exchanged one type of pain for another.”

“Silly Kerrass.” I could tell she was smiling and I heard tears as well. “I was trying to comfort you.”

“I know. And I messed up trying to comfort you back.”

“Oh Kerrass,” she said sadly. “Story of our lives.”

There was silence for a while.

It's true what they say you know. Sometimes, silence is the better part of valour.

“Ok Freddie, you can come back out now.” Kerrass called.

“Just trying to give you two a moment.”

Kerrass came over to me and took the tea from my hand. “Wait for me with the horses.”

I nodded. I considered trying to say goodbye to the woman but she had turned away from me, hiding her face.

That thing about discretion keeps coming up doesn't it.

I went back over to the horses but made sure that I was holding both sets of reins so that Kerrass couldn't call his horse away without me. I didn't think he would but I wasn't sure how he was going to react to what was happening at the moment.

I had had no idea that he and Kareen had had a thing, no matter how long ago.

He came over after a short while and mounted up with me following his example. He wouldn't look at me or meet my gaze. He said nothing, his gaze staring fixedly ahead as he led us towards the path up the hills.

It wasn't a path any longer. It had been trampled flat by horses. Kerrass dismounted once to examine the tracks.

“Shod,” he told me. “Heavy war horses,”

“Rather unsuitable for this kind of climb.” I commented. The ground was soft with water running down hill. Not as firm as many horses would prefer in this kind of situation.

Kerrass said nothing.

The village and the Librarians didn't bother doing anything with this slope. So it had been left to the grass and weeds that you might find in any kind of meadow. The village herb woman would have been able to come up here and gather medicines which was part of the idea behind it. It served to cover the Library and also added to the village....I suppose “economy” is the right word although it doesn't seem entirely suitable. Most villages have several patches of land given over to, just, meadowland. That way plants could grow and produce strange things that would become old herbal recipes that would then go on to help and nurture food and medicines for the whole place.

It was also a place where youngsters could go and play and where not so young people could go and enjoy each other's company.

We found the first of the three Librarians on the path. Poor thing. She had probably been watching the village as she had been wont to do and had seen the strangers arrive. In her innocence, she had probably even gone out to greet them only for someone to cave her skull in with what looked like a mace. Her being a magical creature though, this hadn't been enough to kill her. It had been enough to cause her eyes to pop from their sockets and for her to bite her tongue in half under the impact and splinter her teeth but then the...

heh....

“knights,” and I use the term in the loosest possible sense, had ridden her down as she had turned to flee.

She looked like a broken doll.

That was the thing you see. The Librarians or attendants as they preferred to call themselves weren't human.

This one was a Godling.

For those people who are wondering what I'm talking about. Godlings are small, sentient beings, sometimes called Bozatko. They look like small children only with blue skin and large luminous eyes that seem to glow. They normally live in woody or swampy areas but have been known to “adopt” small villages or areas as a kind of guardian spirit. There they will perform small acts of care over the inhabitants, especially children whose innocence fascinates the creatures.

They wear relatively little and generally, they only do that when they have been persuaded to do so by neighbours as modesty is unimportant to them. They are childlike in attitude as well, delighting in simple mischief unless they are...upset or angry at which time their games become more...not dangerous but more malicious. They do also occasionally tattoo themselves with herbal dyes and adorn themselves with simple looking jewellery made out of natures detritus, roots, grasses and twigs tend to be the basis of such things.

Whoever had killed her though, had known their business.

I dismounted to gather her up in a blanket with a dim thought that we should bury the three Librarians together. There is a herb that kills them although I won't tell you what it is. I want no gangs of people who have read this to go out and start hunting Godlings for sport. But when I examined the poor thing I found the herb in her injuries. She had survived the first blow but was already dying.

Poor thing.

Her name was Sally.

Yes she was a girl. Some fucker had done this to something that looked like a little girl who would never have done anything to hurt anyone without provocation. Indeed, when I had first come here the village had been quite proud of their little guardian spirit and had protected her fiercely.

I took a blanket from my pack to wrap her up in.

Kerrass waited a moment.

“I'll uh, I'll go on ahead.”

I nodded. “Wait for me though Kerrass.” I told him remembering the old woman's line. “I loved them too remember.”

He nodded back and walked his horse on.

After I lay the blanket down and lifted the tiny corpse into the middle of it, I sat next to her and tried to think of what to say.

What can you say?

I was struck by a sudden memory, like being struck between the eyes by a lightening bolt.

-

It was late summer early autumn when I had last been riding down this path. The air was thick and heavy with the scent of plants and flowers, close with heat and I was dressed lightly in my shirt but even then I was still having to peel the shirt from my skin. I felt sticky, smelly and unpleasant to be around.

Looking back, Kerrass was teasing me. He had manipulated things so that I was riding in front, swatting insects from my eyes and sneezing with the pollen. I should have seen the slight smirk on his face or seen something that indicated what he was plotting, but we still weren't close. He cold make me laugh and I could make him smile while also being fairly skilled at cooking the things that he liked to eat.

It was just after midday and it was hot enough that we should probably have stopped for a break down at the village. Indeed I was surprised that Kerrass hadn't called a halt at the village below but had insisted on pushing things on.

I should have known he was playing a joke on me. I was drinking from a water bottle at the time. Kerrass' old orders of telling me to drink all the time to keep myself hydrated was still preying on my mind.

At first I could hear the sound of someone running. The grass swishing as it parted before a rushing body. Someone running fast.

I had time to turn into the noise.

I must have looked particularly foolish, water still coming from the bottle and wetting my face and chest. But then a shape came out of the grass. Leaping at me, Brown and flesh colours. A high pitched woman's voice, just a little bit shrill.

I didn't even have time to raise my hands to defend myself.

The impact drove the air from me and that was before I hit the ground. I didn't have time to register what was happening. I landed on my backside and fell backwards, my right foot was still stuck in the stirrup and my hip was wrenched and twisted. I fell backwards and hit my head on the road.

I never understood all the things that say that you see stars or hear birds or something. I saw white light and heard a musical tone.

The flashing lights in my vision though were due to the multicoloured flame that was leaping from the figures hands.

“Don't move.” it said. A woman's voice, deep,harsh and unpleasant. “Don't move or I'll burn your face off.”

That was when I realised that I had also bit the inside of my mouth as well as all of the other things. I blinked furiously for a moment or two trying to focus on the strange figure in front of me.

Reflexively I tried to sit up and get my arm under me but I was pushed back down into the ground by virtue of a foot on my chest.

“Don't kill him,” Kerrass' voice drifted up the path. “I've nearly got him trained.

The figure standing over me turned to face down the path.

“Kerrass?” She called wonderingly in a more normal tone.

“The very same.” He said openly smiling as he stepped into view.

There was more sounds of someone else running through the grass and my vengeance was sooo sweet as a small childlike figure came running out of the grass. It was accompanied by the sound of the Witchers name being screamed in delight as the figure ran up to the Witcher and leapt into his arms, which was some feat given that he was still riding his horse at the time. The girl wrapped her arms and legs around the Witcher and didn't look as though she would let go willingly as she rained kisses on his somewhat bemused face.

“KERRASS, KERRASS, KERRASS, KERRASS, KERRASS.” The girl punctuated the screaming of his name with a kiss on his cheek.

“Hello Sally,” He said in a tone of long suffering amusement.

She wasn't done though and continued to scream his name over and over again.

I still couldn't see the figure that had knocked me down though as it was still a little blurry and I found I was having to blink rapidly. I did see that the fires that had sprouted from the figures hands vanished though as quickly as they had appeared.

The pressure against my chest vanished and the figure left my field of view.

The girl Sally was still calling the Witcher's name though. I managed to prop myself onto one elbow and turned to look.

With a bit of effort I could focus enough to see that he had managed to manoeuvre the girl so that he could dismount and knelt to embrace her properly.

It was a sweet image and one that would have possibly had more of an effect on me if my head hadn't chosen that moment to swim

“Did I hurt you?” A woman's voice asked, much more normal register, calmer and soothing.”

I turned my head and spat blood for answer.

She chuckled. Strong hands helped me to sit up. “Just sit here while I go and get you some help.” Said the voice. The very, very female presence came round behind me and whispered in my ear. “Don't worry, I promise I'll make it up to you.”

As quickly as the presence was there, it was gone. Sounds of the grass parting before a figure leaving me astonished with how suddenly I had gone from a state of injury to being aroused.

I looked up and Kerrass stood over me. I knew him well enough to be amused.

“Don't worry,” he told me, “She has that effect on people. Don't try to get up or anything. The pain is still there, she's just distracted you from it for a moment.”

“You did that on purpose didn't you.” I accused him. Now that he mentioned it I could see the flickering grey around the edges of my vision that told me that I was possibly a little concussed.

“I may have planned something along those lines.”

“What if she'd killed me?”

“She wouldn't kill you outright.” He grinned. “She likes to play with her food first.”

“Reassuring.”