Go For Stories

Though exhausted, V’esen had never felt more awake as he neared the edge of the Marad’r forest. He had run for hours straight, but was nearly home for his efforts. Having been sure that he would meet his death today, his heart soared with the feeling of life. On top of that, his new-found power would prove to be very useful in his role of Order thief. He would be unstoppable.

As he reached the edge of the forest, the smell of smoke drifted to his nostrils.

“Odd,” he said to himself, “it’s too hot for home fires.”

Perhaps he had forgotten some celebration and the feast fires had been lit. That thought filled him with joy. Nothing would be better than to sit with Caral and enjoy a fine roasted wildbird under the stars. He almost skipped through the last line of trees before he stopped dead.

The smoke here was thick; too thick for a cooking fire. He saw parts of the village through the dark cloud. This was bad. Very bad. He took off at a run, all thoughts of celebration forgotten. Through the smoke he could smell the cloying, sweet scent of death. He entered the village boundary and immediately tripped over the body of one of the Earl’s soldier. His thoughts were bleak. Yes, here was a dead enemy, but the Earl would not have acted rashly. He would have sent enough men to ensure a complete rout.

Sure enough, the bodies of fellow villagers lay scattered within the smoke.

“Mother. Father.”

V’esen sprinted towards the house. He bounded through the open front door and cast a desperate eye over the entry. There, amongst the bodies of six pyresmen, lay Rense. His body and features were twisted in pain and his remaining eye stared with a sadness that V’esen couldn’t make sense of. He stared at the congealing blood around the bodies and forgot everything. His father was gone. The man that had taught him how to survive, the man who taught him to love life, was dead.

V’esen felt betrayed. Rense was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to live; to protect his wife and child. He had failed V’esen and he had failed Staren.

Staren.

“MOTHER,” V’esen roared. He waited. There was no response.

A lump formed in his throat and he ran up the stairs to the loft. It was empty. He checked the other rooms of the house; all empty. He rushed through the open kitchen door and down the hill behind the house. His wild, searching eyes spotted a dark shape at the base of the hill. He surged down the hill, losing his balance and sliding down on his side. He reached the still form of his mother and cradled her in his arms.

“Mother? Are you alive? Tell me you live. Mother?”

There was a lengthy moment of panic for V’esen before she moaned and opened her eyes.

“Rense, darling?” she asked, her voice weak.

“No, mother, it’s me.”

She lifted her hand to his cheek.

“Oh, V’esen. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

V’esen held her hand and choked back his sobs.

“Are you okay? Can you move?”

Staren smiled at him. A weak smile that barely touched the edges of his sadness. “No,” she said. “They got me, V’esen. I tried to fight, but they got me.”

She lifted her other hand off her waist to show him the blood. He tore apart her dress where it had been sliced to assess the wound. It was deep and the flesh had separated into a gaping hole. There was not a lot of blood, which lifted his spirits.

As if reading his thoughts, Staren shook her head. “I’ve seen wounds like this before, son.” She blinked slowly. “I will be dead by nightfall.”

“Did they … did they …”

“No, they didn’t rape me. I fought and they cut me. I rolled down the hill.” She let escape a small laugh. “I guess it was too much work to follow me.”

“Why? Why did this happen?”

V’esen’s soul dragged him down. This was supposed to be a happy day. Staren coughed and groaned. He reached down and covered the wound.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he said. “I should have stayed. I should have …” He broke down. The tears ran down his face and his body wracked with sobs. How could he let this happen? Why wasn’t he here to protect her?

“Please don’t,” said Staren. “If you were here, you would be dead too.” She smiled at him. “It’s okay. Rense will be there to find me.”

“What can I do, mother?” he asked.

“Stay with me. Don’t let me die alone.”

He wiped the tears from his face. If he couldn’t be here to save her, he would be there for her at the end.

“Of course I’ll stay … Mother?” A thought struck him. He felt shame in asking now, but there would be no other time.

“Yes?”

“Do I have a brother?”

Staren gasped and looked him in the eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“I … met someone today; someone who looked like me. Exactly like me.”

Staren fell silent for a while. If it wasn’t for the rise and fall of her chest, V’esen would have thought her gone. Her eyes were dim.

“Yes,” she finally spoke, “you have a brother. When you were born, we didn’t expect twins. You were both … so beautiful. But the Earl’s men, if they had known we had had two children …” she drifted off. Her breathing was shallow and coarse. This went on for a while and they sat quietly in each other’s arms. She came back with a grunt. “They would have killed you both, V’esen. They would have killed my babies.”

“What happened?” V’esen asked.

“We gave one away. Your brother, we gave him to a family in the city, said he was theirs and we would never try to contact them. We never heard from him again. V’esen … was he happy?”

V’esen thought back to the last moment he had seen his brother. His rolling head glared at V’esen, judging him for the fratricide.

He looked down at Staren and stroked her face. “Yes, mother, he was happy. Very.”

She smiled. “Good … good.”

Staren drifted off again. V’esen held her and sung a lilting melody:

“When Wind blows to keep you cool,

When Rain falls to fill your pool,

When Sun shines to warm the land,

There’s always one to hold your hand.

Never fear for death or hurt,

The end is but a way we go,

Onwards, into next embrace,

Then life’s true path you’ll at last know.”

The traditional song brought tears to his eyes. It was meant for warriors and leaders, but V’esen knew no soul more brave than his mother had been. As he held her, the last breath rattled from her and she was still. He cradled her body and wept.