The grass was still wet from the prior day’s rain, one of the final few rainfalls of the season, after which it would became too cold and the rain would turn to snow. The storm had delayed their journey south by a day, and nearly all parties involved had secretly relished this fact.
Anything to keep them from seeing it.
The captain of Lord Viemen’s guard rode beside his Lord’s carriage as they continued down the road from Riverden toward Viemen. He missed his town terribly and had been unable to contact his family since Lord Viemen’s departure—before the dragon attack. The captain and his men all shared the same fears as they rode on horseback down the beaten road.
What would they find upon their return?
What would be lost?
In time, the familiar visage of the two flanking wooden supports of Viemen’s northern gate came into view. It took a moment, but as the procession drew closer, the captain felt his stomach sink. Even at such a distance, he could see the change in the silhouette of the town— a stark emptiness where buildings and shops had once stood. The untoward realization that something, which you had known your whole life to be constant and unchanging, was now suddenly gone. Then, as a further morbid welcoming, they laid eyes on the earthen cenotaphs which lay just beyond the town border. The men held their breath as they watched those burial mounds grow in size from their continued approach, each wondering in grieving silence who lay beneath.
The captain, managing to finally shake himself from his own worried thoughts, called into the carriage.
“My Lord, we are approaching Viemen.”
Frederick said nothing in response.
He remained seated within the carriage wearing a look of muted frustration: beside him sat Annette, and across from them both sat their two sons Frederick II and Roger.
Annette smiled at them as she spoke.
“Don’t worry, boys. We are almost home.”
The town was still eerily silent compared to how the captain had remembered it. There were few if any who were out in the northern neighborhoods, spared though they had been; and even the stray cats, dogs and local fauna were nowhere to be found.
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Before long, they had traversed the northern section of the main road and came upon the entrance to the town square; and it was at this point that they finally saw some life return to the dour streets.
There were perhaps a hundred or so individuals who stood in small groups, spread throughout the area. Most were carrying supplies to and from the empty lots where a few of the local builders were working systematically to plan their reconstruction. Some stalls had been hastily constructed to allow for vendors to present their goods. They handed out rations of food and supplies, but took no coin in return. Through the backdrop of sawing, cutting, and hammering, the sound of carriage wheels and the clopping of hooves was quickly noticed. Many stopped what they were doing to observe the carriage as it drew closer toward the clearing. But there was no excitement.
There was no cheer.
What there was instead was a heavy air of disdain and caution; a sea of scowling faces and bitter eyes that observed with absolute scrutiny this procession which had violated their space. The captain shifted uncomfortably on his mount as they came upon the workers. Though the people stepped aside to let the procession through, they did so at the last possible moment and with no hint of respect. A stale silence engulfed the carriage, magnifying the discontent of those who stood beside it.
A sudden thud made Lord Viemen and his family jump as something impacted the carriage. Frederick drew back the carriage curtain to peer outside. Suddenly, he lurched backward on instinct as a rotten tomato splattered across the glass. Before he could react, there came a dozen more sounds as the citizens continued to flog their carriage. Frederick could hear his men outside try to calm the crowd; but as their voices rose, so too did the barrage of rotten food.
“Mommy? Is something the matter outside?”
Annette patted Roger’s tiny head and gave him a reassuring look.
“No need to worry, Roger, dear. Everything is—”
The glass window beside her shattered suddenly. Annette let out a cry and turned her face into the carriage upholstery. The two boys screamed and jumped up onto their seats as shards of glass scattered across the floor of the carriage. The din grew louder as debris continued to relentlessly pelt the outside of the carriage.
“Driver!” Frederick shouted, “Go faster! Now!”
A commotion was brewing behind them, between Frederick’s guard and the townsfolk, but it was impossible to hear what was being said. The driver whipped the reins and urged the horses forward as fast as they could go.
“Don’t let your feet down,” Annette warned the boys as the carriage swayed from side to side. She shared a worried look with Frederick whose face was redder than she had ever seen it.
“Papa…?”
“It’s nothing to worry about, boys. Listen to your mother.”