The next morning Benold was up earlier than usual. He was eager to get away from the company of swine. Of course, fresh air was secondary to the aim to try and separate and speak with some of the villagers without Alethe towering over him. This was not easily accomplished as her presence was felt throughout the humble settlement. Caorain was surprisingly useful in identifying who was more approachable and made a competent look-out for the overbearing village chief.
"...while yes the rebuilding is ongoing, but the foundry is up and running. It'd be nice to work with metal tools again, wouldn't it?" Benold remarked as he eyed the stone axe head a man was affixing to a new handle.
"Having an auger would be nice," the villager responded as he fought with the hide straps. "Even back in Ayokonia, I enjoyed working with my hands. Ungentlemanly, they said, to pick up a trade."
Benold crossed his arms and nodded to the craftsman. "We could use skilled tradesmen."
"But they need me here. The others sacrificed their freedom for us. Going back would be throwing that away," the man said with a heavy sigh. Benold glanced at Caorain, who tilted her head and made a hand gesture to keep pushing.
"But you would be free. Is hiding in this village until you die true freedom?" Benold gestured to the small enclosed settlement.
"It's not just freedom. It's the idea we'd be helping the enemy. You may have been one of us, but you betrayed your birthright to side with those animals."
"I beg your pardon!" Benold said, colour rising to his cheeks. Caorain shook her head at him, and he drew in a deep breath, letting the air out with his indignation. "That was not a betrayal. I firmly believed the lower classes needed upward mobility. It was disappointing when the Kayonn became hypocrites. Look, I am trying to reform the proper way. True, it would require changing all of your names, but freedom for you whole village can be arranged if they migrate to New Karebryn."
"And the catch?" The villager looked up, swinging his newly repaired axe over his shoulder.
"Of course there's a catch. I need to get beyond those volcanoes. I understand some of you have made peace with the spirits here?"
The villager's face darkened at the mention of the volcanoes. He glanced at the conspicuous peak that dominated the skyline to the west. "The eruption that night nearly wiped us out." He snorted. "Had to throw one of our own into the burning lava to appease the spirit. Honestly, I would be happy to get off this rock. But no one here would dare wander into that spirit's domain. We're lucky it has let us stay here this long."
"Then by what nonsense is Alethe set on keeping you all here? It's bad enough we need to grovel to the spirits just to have children, but..." Benold shook his head, glowering at the suspect peak. He then caught a distressed expression on Caorain's face. When he tilted his head to her, she quickly hid her expression and looked at him with interest, silently requesting him to go on. "...While we do contend with spirits in New Karebryn as well... none have demanded human sacrifice."
"It was Alethe's friend who volunteered. Now, Alethe is determined to stay here so as not to waste his sacrifice. We're all indebted to the sacrifices of others." The villager heaved his shoulders, letting out a long sigh. "Living in New Karebryn is a nice thought. But it's unlikely anyone here will ever leave. It might be Trosyn and the rest who made the better choice."
"Doubtful. She was fortunate that I found her when I did. The fate of the others is unknown." Benold narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Unfortunately, that meant he was thinking, and thinking too hard was not something Benold preferred. In fact, he rather found it distasteful, as it led him to conclusions that might shake his strongly held convictions. Benold shrugged and dismissed the desire to delve too deep. "Maybe you owe a lot to Alethe. But you also owe it to yourselves to live your best life, right?"
"I'm doing my best, given the circumstances." The man shook his head. "I've got work to do."
"Well, thank you for taking the time to speak with me," Benold said, nodding his head to the other man. The man returned the nod and walked off.
"Well, Caorain, there's now a new angle to work. The people here dread the spirit in that volcano," Benold said, gazing up at the jagged horizon beyond the trees.
"Spirits... mad. Do not make more mad." Caorain cautioned. "Go home?"
"If Trosyn passed through here, there must be a way."
"No." Caorain gestured to the people of the village. "Not know. Only spirit know."
"Science! Science can match any spirit's machinition!" Benold crossed his arms. "But... maybe we're not that advanced yet. But some day!" Caorain looked vastly uncomfortable, but she nodded despite this. Benold ignored her discomfort and instead took her nod as agreement. "The age of man will rise. Now then, care fo a spot of lunch?"
"Ovollar!" Benold looked up from where he sat upon a blanket, finishing up his meal of bread, cheese, and fruit preserve. He banged his spoon against the lip of the jar, ignoring the mountain of a woman towering over him as he tried to get as much jelly off the utensil as possible. "Ovollar! What have you been telling people?"
Benold wiped off his spoon, as he was too proper, even in a backwater excuse for a village, to lick his utensils like a starved animal. Caorain took the spoon and jar from him, securely packing them away. "That they could be free of a tyrannical fire spirit if they come live in New Karebryn. Each of these people fled to maintain their freedom, so they have the agency to make their own decision whether to leave or stay, yes?" Benold slowly looked up at Alethe's furious visage, his own sporting self satisfaction.
"You had no right!"
"Maybe, but that didn't stop me, now did it?" Benold answered as he dabbed at his chin with a napkin.
"I would have let you walk out of here, but now you leave me no choice." Benold was unceremoniously seized by Alethe's large, calloused hands. Benold grabbed her wrists and attempted to throw her off. Despite her large stature, he did not expect such resistance. Both his utmost strength and agility were needed to wrestle with her.
"Unhand me!" Benold demanded. Caorain, to his mortification, remained perfectly calm as she finished tidying up after their picnic. Benold dug his thumbs into the under-side of Alethe's wrists, which weakened her hold. She slipped one hand out of his hold and grabbed his throat. Panic swelled as blood pooled in Benold's reddening face, and he continued to fight with the chief.
Click.
Caorain held a revolver in her hands, aiming at Alethe. A new wave of panic shot through Benold. He had never taught her how to use a gun. He was as likely to be shot as Alethe.
"Put that down!" Alethe ordered. Caorain shook her head and spread her legs to brace herself. At least she knew to do that much. Still, her form was lacking, and Benold became increasingly nervous. Alethe's grip on his throat loosened and Benold took in a deep breath.
"Do as she says," Benold instructed. Caorain's eyes widened, and her hands lowered, but she did not let go; her finger remained on the trigger. "That's it," Benold encouraged. He thought for sure he had left it unloaded. Would she have known how to put the bullets in the chamber, or was she bluffing with an empty gun? Either way, Benold did not fancy his chances.
When Caorain had taken her finger off of the trigger, one of the villagers grabbed her from behind and efficiently disarmed her. She screamed and fought, thrusting an elbow back into the villager's solar plexus. The revolver fell to the ground. With the distraction this created, Benold likewise turned and drove his shoulder into Alethe's ribs, sending her back. He dove for his gun. Rolling out of the way of an oncoming attack, he inspected the chamber. Empty. Useless.
Benold got to his feet, and Caorain scrambled to his side. To his dismay, he saw villagers surrounding them. If he had been with his old unit, he knew they could take them. But with no ammunition, and a lady to protect, he knew he was beat. His arms lifted in surrender.
"Tie them both up," Alethe ordered. Some of the villagers that had rushed to her aid hesitated.
"Shouldn't we just drag them out of the village?"
"No. Trosyn's not here to plead his case, and he's pushed his luck much too far. Bind them, and put them in the pit."
----------------------------------------
"Keep moving!" Alethe shouted. Benold dug in his feet as the two loyal villagers tried to drag him and Caorain along a winding trail through the forest. Coils of sturdy rope bound both Caorain and Benold, keeping their arms pinned to their sides.
"Where are you taking us?" Benold demanded. He may not know the area intimately, but he knew this was not in the direction of the shore.
"You seem so eager to explore the volcano. So we're taking you to get a rather intimate knowledge of its interior," Alethe said, placing a heavy hand on Benold's shoulder. His eyes widened and he struggled in vain.
"That's barbaric!" Benold spat.
"So is slavery." Alethe gave Benold a forceful shove that forced him to step forward.
"But I always opposed slavery!" Benold insisted. "Do you not think you are overreacting? All I did was..."
"All you did? You think this is about poaching my villagers? No! I curse the name Ovollar! Trosyn had to beg me not to run you through. My full name is Alethe VerHeth Barian."
Benold squinted at Alethe. "Barian?" he repeated. Anyone who was anyone knew the name Barian, as it had been one of the great houses of Ayokonia. But as great as it was, it held many branches, and Benold had to concentrate to sort out which Alethe would belong to. His eyes widened. "Ah... so you'd be the daughter of Heth AbAlark Barian." Benold's eyebrows furrowed as realization dawned on him. "...Whose estate included a large portion of the Penked river."
"That's right. Your Commander Slacht decided it was a strategic location and sent his men to take it by force." Alethe said grimly. "I was told it was the handiwork of you Ovollars, barely scraping at the bottom of the peerage."
Benold felt a lump in his throat and a shifty discomfort in his gut. He swallowed and bit down on his lip, trying to push the unpleasant sensations aside. "It was war! If your father would have surrendered the land to us..."
"War? No, it was a massacre! We were landed nobles, but we were not Kingsmen. And what justification is there for killing the servants? Weren't they also the working class that Kayonn claimed to fight for?"
"They were trying to escape. We couldn't lose the element of surprise," Benold explained, his tone going cold. He'd taken more lives than he could count, more than he could be bothered to remember. But now the fleeing men and women he picked off with his rifle danced before his mind's eye.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
"And my family? My father and siblings were all killed. I can't even repeat what Vormind did to them. If I hadn't been staying with my aunt..." Alethe balled her hands into fists, disgust written in every wrinkle on her face. "And you have the gall to come here and ask for our help?"
Aghast, Benold stared at Alethe. He then fretfully looked back at Caorain, hoping she wasn't understanding much of what was being said. Caorain did not look at him, fixating on the ground instead. "I..." Benold looked back up at Alethe, setting his jaw defiantly. "Vormind is his own person. He made his own choices." Benold then frowned and sighed. "For my part, I am sorry for your losses, madam. But I was following orders."
"Sorry? Ha! You are only expressing remorse because you don't want to die," Alethe sputtered.
"Of course I do not wish to die! If I did, I would have already done it." Benold said dryly. He then straightened up and tried to stand tall, despite still being constricted. "Now see here, killing me will not bring your family back. Nor will killing an innocent woman. Caorain had no part in the war."
"I was going to throw her in first, so you could feel my pain!"
The two men helping Alethe transport the prisoners exchanged dubious looks.
"That won't have the same impact, I'm afraid. Ours was a diplomatic union. I barely know her."
"You're just saying that!" Alethe accused. "I'm done talking. Men. Bring them." Alethe said, thumbing at her two captives. The other two villagers looked at each other, then complied.
Benold had a long trek ahead of him, and it stirred up his thoughts. As much as he resisted the notion that he deserved to be thrown into a volcano, maybe he could be misconstrued as a villain. It was easy to let the misdeeds of his kin slide off his back, as he never needed to face the consequences before. His money always smoothed the road for him, and when that failed, his team could make any problem disappear. But he, himself, never enjoyed or condoned the lengths they went to. But they kept him safe as much as he offered them succour.
If only they were there, they would have fought off Alethe. Those who wanted new lives in New Karebryn would be free to leave. Despite a little shed blood, all would be well. Except he had cut ties with most of them for Trosyn's sake. They had hurt her. And he, seeking their approval, had hurt her too. He could not call himself a true gentleman as long as he carried on with them. Even so, their assistance would be greatly appreciated in his given circumstances.
As Benold stewed in his tribulations, the guard leading him stopped abruptly. Benold collided with the man and nearly fell back. Standing between two imposing boulders were some of the villagers, forming a line.
"What is this?" Alethe demanded.
"Don't do this, Alethe," said the craftsman Benold had spoken with. Hope sprung up in his chest as that shabby tinkerer suddenly glowed like a saint in his eyes.
"Have you forgotten what this man did?" Alethe asked, gesturing to Benold.
"No. But we also haven't forgotten what we've done,. We've all killed innocent people. What about the factory we burnt, assuming it was where the ringleaders were meeting? There were innocent workers there. Or the women cut down for defending their husbands? The children taken as hostages?" This impassioned speech was delivered by a grizzled gentleman that Benold was unfamiliar with.
"That was retribution, Ashfort, as is this!" Alethe insisted.
"We came here to get away from that cycle. Don't start it again."
"It won't start anything. He'll be gone and that will be the end of it," Alethe sputtered.
"And what of New Karebryn? They will notice when their Governor doesn't return. What of this woman's family? We don't know her connections," the eloquent man, Ashfort, continued, gesturing to Caorain.
"Yes, yes!" Benold spoke up. "She is innocent, and you will have wronged her family dearly."
"How will they find us?" Alethe challenged.
"Lady Barian! I chartered a boat to this island. Anyone who questions that crew will know where to start."
Alethe clocked Benold on the side of the head. He winced and glared at her.
"Indeed, the reason we've gone unfound is because no one was looking. This will prompt a search. Trosyn's gambit worked for us this long, but it will be undone if Governor Ovollar perishes here." Ashfort took a step forward, lifting his kempt chin. Benold had to admire how he managed to keep his whiskers despite humble lodgings and primitive tools.
Alethe sputtered a few intelligible syllables as she looked between her captives and her subjects. "You realise," Alethe said slowly with a menacing weight to each word, "...this is treason?"
"We collectively decided you would lead us. We can collectively decide you have misled us," Ashfort responded, crossing his arms. He eyes the two guards that Alethe had taken with her. "The tides are turning against you Alethe. Surrender your captives peacefully, and let us all return to the village to discuss our next move."
Alethe made a sound of vast displeasure deep in her throat, akin to a growl. She eyed the two guards as well. One was edging towards the line of villagers opposing her, but stopped upon her gaze laying heavily upon him. The other stood silent and stalwart, holding the rope attached to Benold.
Caorain's lead had been dropped, but she either was unaware, or too frightened to take advantage of the situation. Benold raised his eyebrows at her and gave a small jerk of his head, trying to get her attention. It took a while before she lifted her head and paid any heed to his antics. She looked away immediately. Benold frowned and stamped his foot, which drew unwanted attention from his guard, who had been watching Alethe carefully. Benold straightened and looked down, trying to appear inconspicuous.
"After everything I did for you..." Alethe finally said, her voice shaking with the strong emotions she was trying to corral.
"It is because of what you've done for us we will stop you. This self indulgent revenge is destructive. You will take all of us down with you," Ashfort bid, holding his hand out to her. "Put the hatred aside. Live for something else."
Again Alethe plunged into tense contemplation. Again, Benold tried to get Caorain to look at him. He edged closer to her, managing to get in range to where he could nudge her with his foot. She looked up, startled and moved away. Benold looked down at the end of the rope. This time she followed his gaze, then looked back at Benold with epiphany eyes. Benold slightly narrowed his eyes, then nodded to her before tilting his head to some nearby cover of low foliage coiled around rocky protrusions.
"...Fine... we will let Ovollar live..." Alethe said, her arms crossed, hands disappearing into her sleeves. Benold let out a sigh of relief. Alethe, seeing this, sneered. "...but not before ruining him."
It happened so fast. Alethe's hand came out of her sleeve with an obsidian hunting knife. Benold braced himself, but he was not her target. Instead she lunged at Caorain. "NO!" Benold shouted. Benold lost track of everyone else, although his peripheral vision did pick up an explosion of movement. Ashfort yelled something inaudible to one of the other men. The craftsman took out a knife and ran towards Benold. Meanwhile, the guard who had been leading Benold dropped his end of the rope and drew his spear.
Caorain gasped and ran for the bushes. Without use of her hands, her balance was challenged, and the terrain was difficult. Benold yelled at her to be careful, or tried to. He wasn't sure if what came out were actual words as he was suddenly grabbed. Benold struggled, not even looking to see who had him, as he watched in helpless desperation as Caorain stumbled, and Alethe gained on her.
In Benolds struggling, he suddenly felt an ease of tension around his arms. The ropes fell off. He was free. He barely spared a glance behind to see the craftsman. He had his back. But why? No time to think. The craftsman was set upon by Alethe's loyal henchman, but Benold couldn't be bothered about that. The newly freed gentleman's feet took flight towards where Alethe had lept upon a prone Caorain. The distance to them suddenly seemed so far away as he watched Alethe raise the knife. "NO!" Benold yelled again as Alethe plunged her arm down. He threw out his hand as if reaching for them would magically bring him closer.
Alethe suddenly stumbled back, howling in frustration. Lying on the ground, knees tucked up to her chest was Caorain, face set with fierce defiance. This was not the meak confused girl that had been wandering his halls. This was the face of a survivor. Alethe prepared to spring on her again, but by this time Benold was able to tackle her from behind. He pinned her on the ground, legs astride, and wrenched her right arm behind her back, fighting for control of her knife. She was loath to give it up and she squirmed beneath him. Using both of his hands, he peeled her unrelenting fingers from the handle of the blade and it dropped to the ground. It was then he saw the blood.
"Caorain! Are you hurt?" Benold asked, while still struggling to keep Alethe down. He could feel her strength working against him, and although trained as a soldier, his martial prowess was always focused on ranged weapons. He could not risk looking at Caorain, but the longer she remained silent, the more he grew anxious. "Caorain?"
"Hurt. Not poorly," came Caorain's voice, which was a great relief to Benold.
Alethe finally managed to plant her feet on the ground and bucked him off like a rowdy bull. The two of them scrambled for the knife. Finger tips grasped just mere inches away. A shadow loomed over the dark knife moments before a boot stamped down on it. Benold quickly withdrew his hand. Standing before them was Ashfort, a spear pointed to Alethe's head. She ceased her struggle immediately. Benold rolled away from her and crouched nearby, watching as Alethe surrendered.
"It is over Alethe. Come quietly." Alethe, faced lined and sunken, sighed and seemed to deflate as all of her passion left her, leaving a tired and ailing woman in its wake. Benold was astounded by her change in countenance as the will to fight fled.
Benold scrambled over to Caorain and worked on freeing her from her bonds. Blood soaked the collar of her dress and he pulled the garment aside to look at the wound beneath. He clucked at the laceration and took out his handkerchief, pressing it to the wound. "There now. We'll get that cleaned up and dressed. Tis but a scratch." A scratch that might benefit from a few sutures. Caorain searched Benold's face then her gaze retreated.
A little gratitude could have been warranted for his valiant rescue, Benold thought to himself. All the same, he helped Caorain to her feet. Alethe and her two guards now had their hands tied behind their backs, and the craftsman who had freed him held a bloody hand over his shoulder. Everyone else looked nominally scuffed and tussled.
Benold cleared his throat. To provide Caorain with a proper example, he addressed them all with arms held wide. "Thank you for saving me." Benold looked at Caorain. "Us," he corrected.
"We are saving ourselves," Ashfort said, his eyes narrowing coldly towards Benold.
Benold cleared his throat and smoothed out his crumpled attire. "Ah. Yes. Well. You have my thanks all the same." Benold swallowed hard, his mouth feeling dry as he evaluated how close he had come to getting Caorain killed. While he often wished she hadn't been lashed to him, he never desired any harm to come to her. "We shall go back to the village and gather our things."
"It's best that you do, and do not tarry," Ashfort said. Benold gave a weak smile to the well groomed, albeit shabbily attired, spokesman. The villagers all formed a line and began their descent down the easy sloping path which led to the base of the mountain. Benold took up the rear, giving them a wide berth. Caorain followed silently after him.
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Caorain and Benold packed up their tent. The two had not spoken a word since the incident with Alethe. He also did not know nor dared to ask, what was to become of Lady Barian. All that mattered was that he got away from this perilous island and put the whole debacle behind him. "I should have known better than to think these people could be reasoned with."
"Oink."
Benold looked crossly at a hog who stuck its snout through the slats in the fence. "I didn't ask your opinion!"
"How the mighty have fallen."
The voice caused Benold to nearly drop the folded up canvas in his arms. He looked over and saw the craftsman from before. "Talking to pigs now, are we, Benold?"
"I was unaware we were on a first name basis." Benold stuck his nose in the air as he continued packing up the hand cart. Caorain looked up from her task briefly, then went back to strapping their belongings in.
"Hmph." The craftsman looked critically at the cart and then back to Benold. "I'd like to come to New Karebryn."
Benold looked over at him, sizing her up for signs of insincerity. "If you do, we still won't be on a first name basis. I'd be Governor, to you."
"I'm fine with that, Guv. Trosyn seemed to like you well enough. There must be something good underneath all that pompousness. And I can see the writing on the wall." He looked over his shoulder.
"Well you are free to come with us, although the ship won't be arriving for another five days," Benold said. Five more days of sleeping in a tent with a brooding Lienog woman. Glee.
"Where will you be in the meantime?"
"Oh... I don't know. Camping on the beach at the rendezvous." Benold said with a shrug. Caorain cinched the last strap and gave a few items a tug to test their security. A baleful glance was cast Benold's way, which raised the hair on the back of his neck. Why was she angry with me? Benold looked back at his potential recruit.
"Hm. Well in that case I'll come with you. Don't worry, I'm used to roughing it, often taking long excursions to collect materials." He placed her hands on her hips. "I'm guessing you forgot my name." Benold said nothing. "It's Stellan."
"Let me guess. You are still terrified of that fire spirit and won't show me around the island?" Benold asked. Following these remarks he grunted and lifted the handles of the hand cart. Judging by the wound Caorain had on her shoulder, and the one Stellan sported, neither were likely to help him in pushing it this time.
"Mountain spirit. And we have not found a way through. Some of the old paths we knew were changed by the eruption." Stellan began following Benold. "But if you can find me a new life, I can be your guide if you want to try and find your own way."
"Or excavate my own way," Benold remarked, squinting at the peak before turning away from it.
"I wouldn't risk that, if I were you. I don't know what upset him the last time." Stellan shrugged, then winced. He glanced over at Caorain, who was likewise hastily bandaged up. "You know, our doctor often makes a poultice with comfrey and willow. Before we leave, I'll ask her how to make it."
"We don't need..." Benold paused and sighed, gritting his teeth. "That'd be appreciated, but I doubt she'd help us."
Stellan lifted his eyebrows, and gently patted his own bandaged shoulder. "She doesn't need to know it's for you. Wait for me outside the walls and I'll meet you there."
"Be quick about it. We have a long walk ahead of us," Benold grumbled.