A thought occurred to me; maybe it would be an added protection if they slept in their own coffins once we found our new homes, and stowed away somewhere. Whether that was deep in the ground or under locked spaces like these. Places where people would not disturb.
I left them, bracing myself against the remnants of my brothers’ frenzy from last night. I kept my head down and walked slowly across the rubble, through the smoke. The layout was more or less the same in each monastery, so I knew where the infirmary and kitchens were. The problem was avoiding the torn bodies. When I saw limbs starting to enter my field of vision, I stepped aside, crossing over other stones and fallen pillars until I reached the kitchen doors.
There was nothing there. Tables and wooden bowls lay splintered across the floor. The walls and floors were streaked with flour and something foul and decaying, along with scattered grains and bloodied whole oats.
The infirmary did not fare better. All the mattresses were gone, if not torn. But there was no blood here, at least. The doors to WIlbur’s office remained barred. There were attempts to break through it; signs of splintered wood where a weapon was used, but they ultimately gave up. Maybe that was when the fire started. When we…
No. Push the thought aside.
I fumbled with the lock until the door clicked. I breathed a sigh of relief to see the whole place intact. There on the table were his equipment; old rusted scales, empty glass vials, wooden bowls, and some flowers and ores inside jars. It was not much, and I knew that these were the more common ones, but it’s better than nothing.
It was when I saw my tower, still standing, that it hit me. I save up some coins myself up there.
I stowed Wilbur’s ingredients near him and hurriedly climbed the stairs to my tower. I searched under the blankets of my coffin and found the purse that I’d been keeping my coins in. My clammy fingers untied the knot and counted the coins falling onto my palm. Five hundred coppers.
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I knew from Knox’s itinerary that this was a week’s worth of pottage for a week if I ate three meals a day, but could be stretched out to a month if I rationed. Or if we can find food on the road.
Pocketing this small treasure, I scoured for more things I could take from this place. The books I left, except for the real scriptures of the saints. I did not know why it only took me this long to be curious enough, but I leafed through the publication date and version of this book. It was the fourth version and was published the year we were at Trushire.
Knox told me once of a rumor that the Saint-Kings either approved or denied revisions to the original texts of the scriptures–the recordings of his ancestor King Edmund himself. He told me that each Saint-King had their own agenda in choosing which passage in that scripture was tweaked. I closed the book, pondering if I should take it with me. I held it in my hand when I walked out of that tower.
___
When Wilbur and Woodrow woke up, I told them what I saw. They were disheartened that there was not any food left in the kitchens but were glad that at least some remaining ingredients survived. I showed them the money I had and agreed that we should save it until we reached our destination. There was one thing that we had to do before we set out, however.
“We should bury them properly,” I said. “They do not deserve to be laid out like that. For the crows and maggots to eat.”
Woodrow said nothing. Wilbur nodded. “Let us give them decent rest.”
To our surprise, digging with their bare hands was easy. Their fingers clawed through the earth of the granges like it was nothing but soft sand and not long after, had dug graves for each of the corpses lying about. When it was time to drag the bodies onto the graves, Woodrow told me to wait in the crypts. I heard the soft thuds and soil burying the bodies while I was there.
“Ryne, it’s time to go,” Wilbur called me not long after.
We stood there on the granges, observing the freshly made mounds. I felt like we should say something, and something inside me wanted me to speak.
I stepped forward and said, “We’re so sorry. You did not deserve what happened to you.” I was about to turn away when more words spilled from my mouth. “I’m going to do my best to keep this from happening. May you forgive us, and may you find rest in the Great Beyond.”
There was silence. Then Wilbur and Woodrow both placed one hand on each of my shoulders and pulled me through the walls of Saint Korbin and out into the world.