Desolation

“Tears are words that need to be written.” 
  -  Paulo Coelho

           

Desolation

            Bryson stood at the window, once again, looking out over the buildings as the night sky weighed heavy on the city of Valencia. Today would be the sixth day Lily had been gone. Luke was feeling it also. He had been awake each of the eight times the poor child had tossed himself awake. Bryson tried, as he did every time, to brush away the boys’ worries, and his own as well, with a story before bed but it wasn’t doing Luke anymore good that it was Bryson. The boy was growing too old for stories before bed and it showed as he invented even worse fears for his mother than Bryson had inside his own head.

            Bryson ran his hand through his hair as he made his down the steps to the shop. Work for the days to come would be grueling. Not only was it one of the hottest days towards the end of summer, but Gill had taken on another order of weapons for the castle guard including daggers, swords, maces, axes, and spears. A lot of work for only one man and a short round shop keep. He passed through the shop looking over the forge, anvil and workbench. He didn’t stop as he made his way through the wide doorway facing down the length of the Fallthrough. The baker’s shop was towards the “brighter” end of the ally way and he wanted to see that Luke had made it on time and unharmed again before starting this dreaded day. He stopped shy of the window not wanting to interrupt the boy or embarrass him, which usually happens with his sons' young pride. Thankfully, the boy was already hard at work on the ovens and not a scratch could be seen on him.

            The boy had a knack for finding trouble and always insisted on solving it then and there instead of letting it pass. Bryson had to admit that he was mainly at fault for the bullheadedness and deep under the false frown he had to put on each time in front of Lily, he was proud that his son stood up for himself and the other small and weaker children. He backed away from the window slowly and turned heading back towards the shop with his head hung low. He paused turning his head slightly as trumpets behind him, towards the front gates, began to sound signaling the kings’ return from the hunt.

            “Their early………….odd” He said to himself as he continued on, wondering why the extra day hadn't been spent as usual with festivities, hunting and sitting around the fire getting drunk on wine.

              That was how Lily had described the goings on of the hunts she had been a part of. Nothing ominous or foreboding came to mind as he closed the space between the baker’s and the blacksmith shop, on the contrary. Bryson was actually excited that his wife had returned a day early. At least he would get to see her sooner than he thought, a bright spot on a black day of heat and sore muscles. As he came to the corner across from the shop thinking of ways to celebrate her coming home and what to have for dinner with a smile on his face as three children zipped past almost taking his left leg out from under him with only a distant apology as they kept barreling past. He took a second look towards the speeding children fading out of sight, wondering for a moment, if he had heard the child say something about an attack. He turned back crossing the ally way a little more cautious as he ran it over in his head.

            The sound of keys clinking together caught his attention as he looked up noticing Gill standing at the door with his back turned.

            “Lock yourself out after one of your late nights again I see.”

            “Not in the slightest Mr. Adams.” For some reason Bryson had never known Gill to use his first name. It was always Mr. Adams or just simply Adams. It never bothered him much though. The pay was the important thing and as long as that stayed steady and regular Bryson didn’t care what he was called.

            “The king has made a short trip of his hunt this go-around, or should I say the hunt has made a short trip of the king instead. News of an attack on the king came late last night. Word trickled down and we’re to have that order of weapons ready and waiting as soon as we possibly can. I’m closing up the shop for today to honor our king but first thing tomorrow I’ll need you down here slinging steel and pounding hammers as quick as possible. You should see if you can talk your boy, Luke, into helping you out a little tomorrow. I’ll pay him twice what that silly baker is paying him and he might actually learn something useful over here. Lady knows the gold from the castle will cover it.”

            “Sure I’ll see if Merl will let Luke have tomorrow off on good behavior” Bryson said distractedly as he looked over his shoulder back towards the gate, worry thick in his mind now at Gill’s words.

            “So, were done here? No work today?” He said still looking towards the gates.

            “No, no work today Adams, but you’d better get rested up though. Tomorrow is another story entirely. “

            Bryson nodded as he walked away, waving to Gill over his shoulder absentmindedly, as the man yelled something he couldn’t understand. His steps seemed slightly quicker than usual as he turned closing the space, once again, to the baker’s shop. Something wasn’t right and he didn’t need to think hard about what fears were waiting for him once he mentally started going through what may have happened. He paused at the bakery looking in through the window again, hoping that the news had not reached the backer yet. He nodded to the baker as he pushed the door open, and took hold of Luke’s arm when he walked close enough to grab.

            Merl, smiled as he looked up to see Bryson taking up almost the entire doorway. He brushed the flour off his hands and arms onto his apron as he walked across the bakery, taking Bryson’s’ hand in a greeting. 

           “The king’s returned. Heard there was some bad news traveling with him too, but I thought it better keep the lad working. The crowds do tend to get a little overrun on his returns” The words flew out of his mouth, like a waterfall of worry, landing on Luke’s head as he turned to look up at his father.

            “I was just going to the front gate to see why they had come back a day early, and to hopefully claim my wife before she gets caught up by the crowd as well. Mind if I steal Luke away from you for a few days? Gill Forstar over at The Forge & Hammer was asking if I could bring my son to help out for a few days since we’ve got such a big order and only a little time to do it in.”

            Bryson was impatiently waiting halfway out the doorway on Merls’ answer. He was trying so hard to hide the worry and panic rising up in his chest.

            “Not at all Bryson, your son is very handy around the shop and I appreciate all the time he gives me. Enjoy your few days off little man” Merl’s eyes were reading Bryson’s face like a book, as everyone else did as well. He nodded as Bryson waved a quick and short farewell, pulling his son along through the doorway. Luke’s voice came in quick and straining sounds as he was pulled rapidly to the end of the ally way, where people hard already started coming out of their shops to see the arrival of the king.

            “Dad, I heard the horns. That means mom’s back doesn’t it? Dad…..Dad slow down!” But instead Bryson pulled Luke up into his arms to make weaving in and out of the growing crowd quicker.

            The trade district was crowded on a normal day. Full of merchants, buyers, beggars, horses and carts full of everything from cheap swords and armor to meat, vegetables and sweets. Today it would be shoulder to shoulder with no room for a child under foot. No one bothered rushing the gate anymore, since the king would be coming straight through the trade district with his game and prize kills strung up on poles and carried by guards to show off his skill at hunting. Bryson, however, wasn’t interested in waiting or seeing the slaughtered animals. He held Luke tightly to him in one massive arm and began pushing his way through the crowd as gently as possible for a large muscular half crazed man worried and racked with fear for his wife. He continued on until the front gate was in plain sight and arrived just in time to see the gate being pulled up for the procession.

            Normally the horsemen came through first, holding the banners of the kings’ crest and clearing the street for the guards carrying game. This time, however, there were only horses and a few carts carrying the entire trips worth of game. No where near as luxurious as normal. Two horses to each cart and two carts full of the bloody carcasses of deer, rabbits, wolves and random birds stacked on top of one another like blankets thrown in a chest. Behind them were guards both on horseback and walking who were bandaged and bloodied, and who looked to have had a horrible time from the trip. Bryson’s heart sank as he saw the guards’ number, remembering how many had left with the king on his exit through the city gates. There were roughly less than a third remaining and most if not all were injured. Then the carts of bodies appeared. The remaining soldiers and followers Bryson had not seen among the injured troops were not left in the forest but carefully layed one on top of the other in three large carts covered with cloth to keep the flies and insects off of them as much as possible. Behind the carcass wagons were two stunning black horses. Friesian perhaps, from the look of it. Pulling behind them the kings' chariot draped with the kings family crest over the windows. The horses were well groomed and outfitted in their gold parade tack. The carriage was, of course, carrying the slain king. Everyone could tell but no one was brave enough to speak the words. Sobs and moans echoed from the crowd as the king slowly passed by. The cots were behind the chariot, carrying the guards and followers that were too injured to walk or barely held onto life. Most of the crowd were not interested in anything past the king and whispers broke out of what would happen in the following weeks. Bryson however, had zoned in on the cots as the shock of the kings’ death carriage rolled away revealing them in multitude being carried by volunteers and men that had been pulled into service from the surrounding villages.

            Bryson slide under the arm of one of the guards that was struggling to keep up on his own, still holding Luke in the other arm.

            “Good sir, can you tell me anything of the survivors? My wife was among the servants and followers from the castle. Lily was her name. She had long black hair and a slender build. She was known mostly for her voice. Does that description sound familiar?”

            The soldier nodded limping along and looking ahead miserably.

“If Lily was her name then she sounds like one of the survivors. And yes her voice was one that a man should never forget. She’s not well by any means but the men brought the living by cot and most of those who had fallen fit into the carts….so many dead. If only we had taken more guards with us then no one would have to face the Lady. The king……I can’t believe the king is gone. What will we do now?”

            Luke’s voice sounded far away as Bryson turned scanning over the cots being carried behind him.

            “Dad………Dad is mom gonna be ok? Did he say the king’s dead?”

Bryson only nodded as he looked for Lily’s black hair among the mass over bobbing bodies. It reminded him of a massive wave of flesh and body parts as the carriers fell into step. He spoke numbly as he stroked his sons’ hair back trying to calm him.

            “Yes son, that’s was that man said. Mother will be fine, we just have to help her a little more around the house till she gets to feeling better, that's all”

            Bryson helped the man as far as the next street corner, looking back the entire time as they walked, watching the cots veer off towards the infirmary. The soldier let go of Bryson’s arm with a nod of thanks and acknowledgment.

            “God speed sir. Thank you and I hope you find her well.” Bryson was already gone. Weaving and ducking in and out of the crowd and around bystanders till he caught a glimpse of the cots carrying the survivors. As he neared them once again a hand grasped the forearm that was holding Luke, almost spilling the boy onto the ground. Without a second thought Bryson tried pulling away. He needed to get to Lily. The grip was stronger than he expected and did not let him go. “Sir, I don’t have the time for…….”

            As he spun around, his face red with anger, he saw a sorrowful Gill standing there motioning for him to hand the boy over to him. He handed the boy to the short shop owner as his face cooled to the numb feeling that had been creeping into him, realizing what Gill intended.

            “Go. I’ll tend to the boy till you return. We’ll be at the shop until then. I spotted her for only a second before I noticed you racing through the crowd. He shouldn’t see her like this. I’ll see how long we can put the work on hold. Just go. She was towards the front of the line when I saw her. Two or three rows back behind the kings’ carriage. Lady rest his soul and may she have mercy on us for the days to come. Now hurry, before they make it too far.”

            Bryson laid a hand on Gill’s shoulder for a moment in thanks before looking over to Luke. His teary eyes said it all with no words needed. It took everything he had level his voice out in the fatherly tone he used so often.

            “No worries Luke. I’ll go check on your mother and be back with good news shortly. No need for you to see all that nastiness your mother is always trying to spare you from. She would only be upset I had brought you around it anyhow.”

            He kissed the boys head and roughed up his hair as he turned quickly, not giving Luke the chance to protest and before the boy could see the worry written as clear as red writing all over his fearless father’s face. In an instant he was at almost a dead run. Dodging in and out of the other people following their loved ones Bryson caught back up to the procession in no time. Swiftly, his eyes ran over the bodies being carried, counting the rows starting at the back. Twice he stopped thinking he had found her and twice he was proven wrong as he closed the distance between himself and the body on the cot. As he began moving among the thick of the bodies Bryson noticed the overpowering smell of rot and decay. He covered his mouth with the collar of his shirt forcing himself not to gag as the smell began to make his stomach turn and his head spin. He couldn’t stop. He had to find her before they took her into the infirmary.

            Finally, he rushed up to the cot with Lily laying on it still as if death had taken her already. They were just at the massive doorway to the infirmary. “My wife” was all he could choke out between the smells, the gagging feeling and choking back the tears as he took her cold clammy hand. Bryson only got a few moments to hold Lily’s hand before the guards posted at the entrance quickly pushed him back a few steps allowing the men carrying the cot and his wife to continue though the doorway and out of sight.

            “No one goes in. Not until the healers and nurses have cleared the bodies of any contagious infections and the like. If one of the survivors is of relation to you then you’re to meet in front of the inner courtyard entrance tomorrow midday for news of your loved ones and when you will be allowed to see them again. So says the king.”

            Bryson was fuming. His chest swelled as he planned his attack on the fools standing between himself and Lily. He had no weapons but the one guard was small. Snatch the pike, stab. Kick to the groin, break the small one’s neck and I’m in. As he took a step towards his plan of action he heard the sound of more swords being drawn. Bryson looked behind him to see three more guards to his right all armed and ready to strike down any opposition. Bryson balled his fists as face did not lessen in color. He stepped back down on the step he had originally been placed by the guard.
            “The king is dead! We all saw the carriage pass ……”

            Once again the guard shoved him, more forcefully this time, down a few more steps. Both guards standing in front of him lowered their pikes leveling the tips at his chest.

            “You will keep your mouth shut you miserable pig!” The king was only tired and did not feel the need to wave to you poor ignorant fools. Why he lowers himself to even acknowledge sad pigheaded beggars like you, I’ll never understand. Now back away or the next time you see daylight or your precious little wife, she’ll have forgotten all about you and so will the rest of the world.”

            Bryson stood at the top of the steps stone fisted and hot with rage. He could do nothing at the moment but glare at the guard and pray. He closed his eyes and counted his breaths as he had been instructed as a boy. Bryson got to thirteen and noticed he didn’t hear the blood rushing in his ears anymore. Visions of Lily playing with Luke in a nearby field and hearing her voice singing in his head had most likely helped more than the counting had. He raised his hands and lowered his head in a submissive gesture backing down the steps slowly. The guards lowered their weapons with a smug expression of victory painted over each of their faces. He silently cursed them with all the blights and afflictions he could think of as he stopped on the bottom step, turning away from his much needed destination and the targets of his wrath.

            What would he tell Luke? It would be tomorrow before he could even find anything out to tell him. Bryson ran a hand through his hair again deep in thought and full to the brim with worry. Luke shouldn’t have to worry like this.