Callida’s run took her outside to the main courtyard before she remembered that there were likely still members of the Order of the Rose and Dagger skulking about. Her distracted mind appropriately doused with cold water, Callida remembered the nurses, carriage driver, horses and luggage, and began to feel her way to the stables in the dark.
The cobbled courtyard became a narrow, dirt lane that wove between the monastic structures until stopping at a stable erected against the outer fortress wall. While the temple buildings were an imposing work of masonry, the stable was a humble wooden structure with a thatched roof. There was a single, iron torch mounted on a near stone wall, and Callida debated borrowing the torch or putting it out to mask her own presence from potential enemies lurking in the shadows. In the end, she decided to take the light with her, confident that the enemies would be aware of her presence anyway, and she’d rather be able to see in the meantime.
She entered the stables to immediate whinnies protesting her light and found all five horses spooked and neatly penned to her left. She spared a soothing but distracted pat for Kayun as she lifted the torch high and glanced cautiously about the room. There was nothing to jump out at her from the dark corners, but the large carriage, its racks still burdened with luggage, blocked her view of nearly half the room. Callida drew her sword on instinct and planted the torch in the dirt ground. Something was off if even Kayun was jumpy.
Ducking down to check that no one was beneath the carriage before approaching it, Callida felt her heart skip a beat. Not under the carriage but beyond it was a dark puddle. She braced herself and rounded the corner. Beyond lay piles of hay. On the hay lay three bodies: one male, two female. There was fear etched on Tutella’s frozen face, pain on the driver’s. Callida couldn’t see Calora’s face as she’d fallen forward, but her skirts were dark with blood. Dead.
And for what?! A prophecy?! A supposed prophecy?!
Callida felt an exquisite rage wash over her. Two wonderful, caring nurses — members of her household — and an unfortunate carriage driver had died tonight because of some cursed, Black Dragon nonsense and religious superstitions! Five innocent babies’ lives had been similarly threatened for the same reason! They’d gone after her husband. They’d gone after her. They’d gone too far. Callida turned and left the stables hoping to find more members of the Order of the Rose and Dagger.
They would pay for cowardly killing innocents. They would pay for threatening her family. And they would pay for stupidly thinking that she would ever allow some prophecy to control her life.
And they would pay that debt with their lives.
***
The night spent hunting the Black Dragon spawn had left Callida exhausted and unsatisfied. She’d been careful not to kill the three Guardians from the Eternal Sun Order, but dawn only dared to break after Callida was certain that she’d slaughtered everyone else left at the temple. The Eternal Sun Guardians spent the morning tallying her kills and met Callida where she was burying the nurses and driver outside the walls of the temple. Their report: the temple was now lifeless, and all but two Guardians from the Order of the Rose and Dagger were accounted for.
“Who’s missing?” she demanded angrily.
“We do not know,” Guardian Sotera said apologetically — placatingly. “We did not track names but merely counted heads.”
Was Rogue chased?! She started feeling panicked, passed the shovel she was using to one of Sotera’s colleagues, and pointed her nose toward the stables. “Please give them a proper burial.”
“And the others?” Sotera asked, referring to the bodies scattered throughout the temple.
“Let them rot,” Callida snarled.
***
The late morning light stabbed at Rogue’s eyes. He couldn’t remember where he was, but– Primordials! Callida!! The nightmarish circumstances made him bolt upright. Head rush. While his vision swam, Rogue accounted for each child using their cries. Tajam and Ddalu were wailing somewhere next to him, probably starving. Probus, Tiaki, and Manasik were further away but also undoubtedly hungry. The only thing they’d eaten since lunch yesterday was… goat’s milk?
“Don’ move!” Rogue froze, his vision returning to find a man pointing the sharpened end of a pitchfork at his chest. He remembered she’d turned around to fight their pursuers… alone… he was running… finding a barn… collapsing with the boys in the stack of hay…. “Sallia, get th’ lil ones.”
“Wait! Stop!” Rogue threw a protective arm around the twins as a woman approached to take them from him. Behind her, a girl stood corralling the triplets who were doing everything they could to break free from her grip. “Who are you? What do you want?! Leave them alone!”
“I should be askin’ you th’ questions!” the man roared angrily. “Stealin’ children! Babies even!”
“Stealing…. What, no!? These are my sons!”
“Like we’re gon’ believe that. Not a one of ‘em could be mor’n a year old!”
“Please,” Rogue found himself in the bizarre position of trying to persuade a stranger that his sons were, well, his. He was way too sleep deprived for this. Callida would know what to do… would know what to say. “Please, they’re my sons, I swear. The older three over there are triplets, and the babies are twins…. Their mother, my wife, should be along shortly.” Primordials, please let her be along shortly. Let her be alive at all.
The man wasn’t having it. “ROBUR?! Where is tha’ boy? He should be back by now!”
“PA!” someone shouted from outside the barn. “PA! I BROUGHT ‘EM!”
“Brought who?” Rogue asked, feeling hopeful and terrified all at once.
A young man — teenager — sprinted into the barn, and a pair of Lion Tribe military uniforms followed behind him a few moments later. They weren’t temple Guardians, so Rogue felt cautiously relieved for that. “Him! He’s th’ one! I found ‘im in th’ barn this mornin’ with all these lil ones.”
The soldiers looked Rogue over, moving to intervene, literally stepping between the man with the pitchfork and the man sitting wide-eyed and bewildered on the ground with an arm still guarding a pair of screaming infants. “Would you like to explain?” A soldier with two stars on his shoulder asked: a lieutenant.
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“These are my sons,” Rogue repeated himself. “Please, the others too.”
The lieutenant raised a brow at that, his head swiveling to take in the terrified triplets screaming and thrashing in the arms of a woman and a young girl for the first time. “Let them go,” he ordered the women. “Let’s see what happens.”
Hesitantly, they let go of the triplets, and all three immediately ran back to their dad, diving into his arms for comfort and protection. Rogue did his best to soothe them, arranging them in his lap so he could hold them all. With the triplets reasonably settled and the threat of the boys being forcibly taken from him held at bay, Rogue collected the twins off the ground and draped one on each shoulder, struggling to tend to all five babies at once, but determined to prove to his audience that he knew and loved each of them.
The lieutenant knelt down in front of the burdened parent. Curiosity more than judgment in his lopsided smile. “How ‘bout we start at the beginning? Who are you? Why are you in this barn? What’s with all the kids?”
“My name is Qiangde Yudha. These are my sons. We… got lost. I found the barn late last night and took advantage of the hay and the goat’s milk to feed the babies. I was planning to pay the owners for the use of their goat’s milk this morning. I’m sorry for the intrusion.”
“Why were you lost?”
“It’s a complicated story,” Rogue admitted, suddenly anxious and distracted thinking of his wife again… and realizing that he didn't have any way to prove that he was who he said he was without her or the traveling papers stowed in his luggage back at the temple.
“I’ve got time,” the lieutenant insisted. He dropped to sit cross-legged in front of Rogue, and gave an encouraging nod.
“The babies are hungry,” Rogue deflected. “Can I feed them first?”
“The small ones are a little young for goat’s milk, aren’t they?” the other soldier piped up, and the lieutenant glanced up at his comrade in surprise. “Sorry. They just seem young to be weaned. My wife is particular about these things.”
“You’re right,” Rogue agreed. “Ideally, they would be fed by their nurses.”
“And where are their nurses at?”
“It’s complicated,” Rogue stated once again.
“Iugis,” the lieutenant called, and the man with the pitchfork stepped forward, “get the man some milk and bread for the little ones.”
“I can pay for it,” Rogue hastily added.
“No need,” Iugis said gruffly and gave a nod to the girl, presumably his daughter, who left in a rush. “Robur, would you milk Barba, please?”
Rogue was soon presented with a day-old loaf of bread and a bucket of milk. The woman, Sallia, offered to feed the twins by soaking a clean handkerchief in the milk for them to suck on. Rogue gratefully accepted the assistance, and, with the boys eating and quiet, the atmosphere relaxed.
***
“RO-OGUE!” Callida shouted at the top of her voice — a voice that was soon to give out for all of her screaming. “RO-OGUE!” Kayun too moved with urgency. Following Rogue’s tracks had only gotten her so far. She’d inferred this direction when the trail went cold based on the landscape and what seemed to make sense. She’d ended up in a small farming community, and could only hope that Rogue had made it this far on foot in the dark with all of their children strapped to his body….
“RO-OGUE!!!”
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she galloped blindly through the village roads. Maybe she’d gone the wrong direction. Maybe Rogue had been caught by the two missing Guardians and killed along with their sons. Maybe he’d gotten injured. Maybe….
“RO-OGUE!!!”
“Wha’re you shoutin’ for, soldier?!”
Halting Kayun, Callida dismounted and lunged desperately at the man, gripping his collar as he staggered back. “I’m looking for my husband. He’s traveling with five small children. Have you seen him?!” The man before her was cowering. She’d had the presence of mind to change into her uniform before leaving the temple, but she hadn’t bathed after the night’s battle. Her hand gripping the man’s shirt was still grimy with dried blood and the dirt from burying the dead. Callida could only guess what her hair and face looked like — probably deranged and equally filthy, but none of that mattered now. She just needed to find Rogue. “Answer me! Have you seen a man traveling with a number of small children? Have you heard anything? Please.”
“Th’ lieutenant got called out to the Grumus farm this mornin’ due t’ an intruder?”
“An intruder?”
“Tha’s all I know.”
“Which way?!”
“North o’ here. Tha’ way. Big barn, can’ miss it.”
She didn’t lose a second jumping back into Kayun’s saddle. “Thank you!” The man seemed mostly just grateful that she was moving off.
***
Rogue could tell that the lieutenant didn’t believe his story. The reason for their journey to the temple was absurd. Guardians attacking people visiting the temple was absurd. His wife being the Lion General was… improbable. All of it was absurd! “It’s the truth,” was all he could say when the lieutenant said as much, but it didn’t help that Rogue felt crazy for saying it out loud in the first place. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but–”
“Rogue!”
It was faint, but his ears perked up.
“Ro-ogue!”
It was getting louder. “Callida!”
“Sir, stay seated, please,” the lieutenant ordered. He stood up anyway.
“ROGUE!”
“CALLIDA!”
“Sir!”
“That’s my wife! CALLIDA!!”
“ROGUE?!” The sound of approaching hooves grew louder. “Rogue? Rogue, are you here?! WHERE ARE YOU?!”
“I’m here! In the barn!” Her silhouette appeared at the open door, and, in that moment, she was the most beautiful sight in all of Ulakam. She ran into his arms, flinging hers around his neck as she broke into tears, and Rogue held her tight. It was impossible to quantify the overwhelming relief he felt. But she smelled of blood. “Primordials, Callida, are you hurt?!”
“No.”
He stepped back, quickly looking her over. Her fresh uniform couldn’t hide the gore splattered and smeared on her face and through her hair. Convinced that the blood wasn’t hers, Rogue drew her close again. “I love you.”
“General!” The two soldiers in the room finally recognized the five stars on her shoulder — or perhaps recognized her face — and snapped to attention.
“At ease,” Callida dismissed the salute absently as Rogue brushed her tears aside and leaned in to kiss her deeply, ignoring the blood.
“You scared me!” he accused.
“I scared you?! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?!”
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been worrying about you?! You went back in there all by yourself!” he doubled down. “How did you even get out?!”
“I killed them.”
“You… all of them?!”
“All but the three in the order that helped us… and the two that got away.” He suddenly felt rather nauseous. “Rogue, they murdered Tutella and Calora… and the driver.” She was doing everything she could to fight her tears; it made Rogue hurt, and that pain returned his numbed senses to him. She’d lost two friends who had supported her through the last year — one of the hardest years of her life. And Callida could just as easily have been found among the dead. Grief and gratitude merged together.
“Come here.” Forgetting everyone else in the room, Rogue grabbed her waist and yanked her against his chest. Trauma fueled the connection. The mutual need for comfort made them greedy. He could still smell the blood on her skin, the odor growing stronger as her tears mixed with the rusty stains on her cheeks. Her arms wrapped around his neck; her hands gripped his shoulder-length curls. The urgency with which she was pressing herself against him spoke to how raw her emotions were… how deep her inner wounds were… how desperate she was to fill the void in her soul. Her chest heaved against his, and Callida suddenly disengaged to bury her face in his shoulder, smothering her sobs as best she could while simultaneously shuddering with uncontrollable sorrow. Rogue could do nothing but hold her — hold her and shield her when he remembered that they were being watched.
The soldiers’ were bowing their heads in respect and solidarity. The farmer's family was… visibly uncomfortable. Their sons were, thankfully, oblivious — the infants sleeping and the toddlers playing in the hay. Rogue made the conscious choice to not rush her grief, instead tightening his hold around her just a little more.