Rueln Layheart

I had to admit that by day three, I was enjoying myself. It turned out that I liked Melo. The lanky giant was eager to teach me the work. I would stay with him until the noon meal when he would send me to the first wagon for our lunch, then I would return to him and we would continue down the mountain road until Master Esra stole me for the last few hours of the day. After caring for Master Esra’s horses and her guildmate’s gelding, we were herded to the back for lessons. Finn and I would perform drills until the fires were put out and it was time for bed.

That was all well enough, no more or less than I expected at this point, but nothing compared to learning about the social structure of the caravan crew itself. For some reason, watching the people within the caravan became my favorite way to pass the long hours walking with Melo on sentry duty. Mistress Harty was the vice head of the group, and everyone obeyed her orders except the head merchant, Vigeri. He had more wrinkles than hair but somehow moved with the energy of a much younger man. It surprised me on the second day when I saw him get up onto his horse without assistance despite the large belly protruding under his belted tunic.

Gorgeo was the cook and despite his outwardly irritable first impression, he wasn’t too bad. After that first day, he’d greet me with a grunt and hand over mine and Melo’s rations before waving me on. I only found out after I returned with lunch that he had wrapped a cookie in the cloth in mine. At first, I had thought it was Melo’s and offered it to the big man, but he laughed and said that his Da always did that when there were kids traveling with them. Bribery, it must be. Even if it was, though, it was a good cookie.

Then there were the people who handled the animals, others that drove the wagons, and still more that worked like Melo as sentries, rotating in shifts. Everyone knew their job and did it well, not needing orders to be thrown about at every turn to keep things going smoothly. It was obvious, even to me, that they had been working together for several years like this. The only hitch that seemed to come was when Miss Rosie made her rounds with her water pale several times a day.

“Are you needing a drink, Rueln?” Rosie asked, and I turned to see the heavyset young woman walking just behind me. As soon as I saw her I couldn’t help but smile, and stopped to take the ladle she offered even as I slid my eyes over to my companion. Hearing her voice, Melo’s face turned red as he tried to stammer out a greeting to her.

“He-hello, Rosie, are yo-you getting along well?” He asked, his eyes constantly moving, unable to so much as look at the young woman.

I finished my drink, trying to hold back a laugh, and let the ladle drop back into the pale. Rosie graced me with a kind look and then offered the ladle to Melo. “Oh, I’m fine, Melo. Here, have a drink.”

“Ye-Yes,” he agreed, accepting it hurriedly only to spill it all down his front.

Rosie giggled and then offered the man her handkerchief to clean himself with while she scooped up another ladleful of water and presented it to him. When he reached for it this time, she tsked her tongue at him and said, "No. I'll hold it Melo. Best not waste what little water we have on your shirt." Her good-natured teasing turned him red, but he bent and allowed her to tip the drink into his mouth.

If they stared at each other any harder I was going to gag, I decided when neither moved even after the ladle was empty. I coughed and kicked Melo's leg, jerking the man back to reality. "We're being left," I pointed out as the last wagon passed us.

It was Rosie's turn to blush, tucking her mess of black curls back behind her ear and smiling shyly. "Better get back to it then," she said. "I'll see you Melo."

"Yeah...Yeah! See you, Rosie," Melo called as she walked away. She turned and waved, then disappeared around the other side of the caravan train to offer water to the other sentries. Melo's shoulders slumped a little, but he cleared his throat and looked down, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Better get back to our places," Melo said, motioning with his head for me to follow him.

"Why don't you just kiss her?" I asked bluntly as we started back to our post. Melo stumbled and jerked his head around to look at me, shocked that I had asked. "You want to don't you?" I insisted.

Melo's face turned so red, I thought someone threw paint on him. "What? No! Tha-That's not for you to ask someone!" He said, too flustered to even look at me anymore. "Who I kiss or don't kiss isn't for children to worry about." He turned away, done with the subject.

"I don't get it," I mumbled to myself, frowning now. I thought I had it right, but I guess I didn't. Grown-ups could be pretty weird and they did stuff that didn't make sense all the time. If he didn't want to kiss her he could have just told her because I'm pretty sure she wanted to kiss him and why did he hide her handkerchief in his pocket? I shook my head and resigned myself to the fact that I just wasn't going to get it.

A crack loud enough to reverberate inside my bones cut off any further thought on the subject. The middle wagon’s front half crashed to the road, the wheels bending inward awkwardly under the sudden pressure. Melo acted, running forward to help calm the horse team as they reared and tried to shy away from their broken charge. It took them several long minutes to calm the animals down while the wagon and merchandise the wagon carried were inspected for damages.

The entire caravan was halted while the head merchant and vice merchant discussed their options. From what I could see from their expressions, it wasn’t good. Melo and the other sentries worked to unload the broken wagon, and put what they could in the other two, but it was only a partial solution. There were too many goods for just two teams to pull. If they weren’t careful, they would overload another wagon and cause another accident to happen.

“What happened?” Finn asked, appearing at my side. With his sentry busy, he must have come to find me.

“The axle broke,” I answered, kicking a small rock with my boot.

Finn whistled. “That’s not goin’ to be a repair they can fix overnight. They have spare wheels tied to ropes underneath the wagons in case they need them, but an axle has to be made special.”

“Does that mean we’re stuck here?” I asked, looking up to see if I could find Master Esra in the crowd. I wasn’t sure how this incident would affect our job. She stood just behind Fayr, talking with Mistress Harty.

“Yeah,” my friend sighed. “We’re goin’ to be here for at least a few days if not a week while a new axle is made.” While he spoke, I watched as the merchants came to a decision and our Master broke away and started toward us. Peach followed behind her, looking bored on her lead.

“Good, you boys are together. I’d rather not repeat myself,” Master Esra said as she came to a halt in front of them. “The axle is broken beyond repair. I’ve been asked to escort our employer on ahead to commission an emergency replacement from the smiths. You are to remain here and help Fayr keep a guard on the camp. You will act as sentries just as you have been doing and report to him if you see anything.”

“How long will you be Master?” I asked, knowing we still had four days on the trip, or we did.

“Without the caravan setting the pace, I should make it to the next town sometime tomorrow. How long I’ll need to stay there will depend on how much our employer bribes the smithy guildsmen to hurry it up. It’s important that we get on the move again as soon as possible.”

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While I talked to Master Esra, Finnley had wandered away, his eyes on the trees. “Ya don’t think it was intentional do ya, Master Esra?” He asked. A chill went up my spine and I turned to follow my friend’s gaze, wondering if someone was out there waiting for us to lower our guard.

“No,” Master Esra said, amused. “It’s exciting to think so, but we saw no signs of tampering. Things like this just happen sometimes. There’s no need to jump to conclusions.” Master Esra’s hand caught my chin and turned me back to face her. “This is serious, though, boys. Anything can happen while I’m gone. I want you to be alert. Just because this wasn’t caused by anyone, doesn’t mean there aren’t bandits in these mountains that wouldn’t take advantage of it. Understand?”

“What do we do if we’re attacked?” I asked, my unease growing. Vhal might have been a great warrior capable of slaying countless adversaries, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t even hold a guard position right. “Neither of us are any good at fighting yet, Master.”

“Your job isn’t to fight, Rueln,” she advised. “It is to warn the adults and defend yourselves only if needed.” She released my chin and turned to dig in her saddlebags and pull out two bundles wrapped in hide. Master Esra handed one to Finnley and then the other to me and at her nod, we unrolled them to reveal two small daggers.

“Oh! Wow!” Finnley exclaimed, holding his up to admire it. His crystal blue eyes were alight as the metal caught the sunlight.

“Keep these on you at all times,” Master Esra warned us. “Even when you sleep. Danger can come at any time. Now, these are a last resort in case of an attack. I don’t want either of you to remove them from their sheets unless something happens.” That last was very pointedly said to Finnley who ducked his head and quickly returned the blade to its sheath with a guilty look. Master Esra tried to hide her look of amusement but failed. “Keep your practice swords on you as well. They might not be killing blades, but they will still hurt if you hit tender places. Now come here, both of you.”

Finnley obeyed immediately, holding his bundle in one hand and letting it drop to his side. My hands tightened on mine, hesitating. Why was I brave at home, able to look any bully in the eye and fight without fear, but now… I was afraid. I didn’t know what was going to happen, and because Master Esra was giving us this warning I could only see the worst happening. Vhal wouldn’t be afraid. Why was I? My body was rigid, frozen with anxiety and all I wanted to do was to go back home to Papa, Aleah, and Eidke.

A hand curved around the back of my head and pulled me into a warm embrace. Master Esra’s strength enveloped me, and slowly I realized my fear was fading back down, releasing my heart. In the weeks I’ve known her, I had grown to trust her in a way I never had anyone else outside of my family. Her and Finnley had become a part of my small world.

“You’ll do fine,” Master Esra promised, her breath brushing my mess of auburn hair. “Keep your head, and don’t be afraid. I’ll be back for you as soon as may be.”

Finnley and I watched her ride away, pausing only long enough for the head merchant to mount his horse.

“Are you afraid?” I asked Finnley after Master was out of sight and the sound of galloping hooves had faded away.

“No,” Finnley snorted. I turned my eyes to him for a moment, watching him struggle to put on a believable expression before giving up. “Okay.. A bit,” he admitted, “but being afraid won’ do any good. So I decided I’m not.”

“How does that work?” I asked.

“Don’ know. It just does,” Finnley answered just as our names were called.

“Oye, Finnley, Rueln. Come on lads,” Finnley’s assigned guardian called. I never caught his name. “We have work ta do.”

We made camp, placing the two unbroken wagons on either side of the unmoving one until we had a solid ‘U’ shape. A fire was set in the middle for our meals, and sentries were placed about the area to keep a lookout for danger. Everyone participated in sentry duty while the lead merchant and Master were gone. Rotation was set to every four hours, day and night so everyone could have a turn and get plenty of rest and still take care of the other chores that needed to maintain the camp.

There was hardly a moment to be idle, which meant that there was little time for me to worry about the possibility of an attack. After two days of the same routine, I once again relaxed into it, believing Master’s warning would come to nothing.

The screams that woke me on the third night told me I was nothing but a lowborn fool.

The sentries sounded the alarm, but by the time the party had thrown off our blankets, the bandits were on us. Finnley tripped over me in the dark in an attempt to get to his feet, the dying embers were our only source of light. Voices called out all around us, only adding to the confusion. It was dark, and I didn’t know what was going on, where the danger was coming from. All I knew was that it was happening, and it was happening now.

“Boys, your weapons!” Fayr ordered, his silhouette standing out against what little light emitted from the embers at his back. “Arm yourselves!”

“The dagger,” Finnley reminded me, pushing himself off me and getting to his feet as Fayr clashed with a bandit.

I fumbled for the blade I had kept beside me since Master Esra had left, as we were ordered, and pulled it out of its sheath. Holding it up, I had a moment of confusion, memories of holding a weapon like this before overlapping reality. “Not now,” I pleaded quietly, shaking my head and looking around with wide eyes into the darkness. “What do we do?!” I asked, my voice tight with unease.

“We fight,” Finnley snarled, slashing at a large figure who charged at us from the dark.

I couldn’t let my friend go in alone. Even with my heart pounding high in my throat I followed him, determined to survive until morning. We both would.

Raising my blade, I guarded against a sudden attack from my right, stopping a wild woman’s strike from cutting me in half. My shorter blade slide down its metal shaft, sparks flying at my face and singeing my skin. It was luck, not skill that saved me from death. My opponent was stronger and more experienced than me. My saving grace was the fact that I was young, flexible, and much smaller than she had expected. I leaned into the momentum of my blade, falling with it as I broke contact with her weapon and went to the ground.

Instinct, told me if I was on the ground, I was dead. If I was still for one heartbeat, I was dead. If I made one mistake, I was dead. My lack of experience and training gave me few options, but I was smart enough to know what areas would make someone else just as vulnerable.

As I fell, I rolled, my dagger darting out and cutting the tendons in the back of the bandit’s knee. She cried out and fell, her weapon still in her hands. I was on my feet when she clumsily swung for me leaning heavily on one arm and trying to pull herself back up. I jumped back with a startled cry of surprise, stumbling over my own feet and tumbling backward onto my rump.

I landed only feet from what remained of the campfire, my opponent still struggling to get to her feet. Her helplessness was her end as one of the men from the sentries struck her down. Terrified as I watched her fall, blood falling to the earth to soak into the ground, I turned away. If I stayed where I was, I would soon follow her. Clutching the dagger until my knuckles turned white, I started to push myself up only for a heavy grunt in front of me to drain what was left of the color in my face.

A body fell in front of me, landing over the sparks and sending petals of orange and ash up into the night. Despite the ash and ember burning my eyes, I couldn’t look away from what I saw. Georgeo stared at me with wide, sightless eyes as the fire began to grow, feeding on its new fuel. The sword still protruding from his gut shining with blood.

My hand clapped over my mouth as the smell of burning flesh overwhelmed me, echo of horrors of war and battles I had never seen flashing before my eyes. The shifting of armor drew my eyes up from the body and a man stepped up, leaning one boot on the body as he pulled the sword free with a sickening fleshy sound. He shifted his head, and cold eyes fell on me.

I knew I was dead.

Slowly the man walked towards me, shifting his grip on his weapon as he moved. He was going to kill me. I would die here and that would be it. I would never see Papa again, or Eidke or Aleah. Would they even know what happened to me? Would Master? I would die here a coward, unworthy of the name of my past life.

I’m not her. My vision blurred, and a tear slipped down my cheek as I raised my blade.

No.

I steeled myself, pushing my fear down and letting determination fill my eyes. I wasn’t Vhal Aairith. I was Rueln Layheart, and I wasn’t going to die here. With a wild challenge, I pushed myself off the ground and ran at the man, willing my body to take the experience of my past life. If there ever was a time, now was it. My blade was going to get through that armor and–

The man moved faster than I thought possible, shifting his feet so my wild charge missed him by inches. In the same breath, he slammed the hilt of his sword into my skull. It was over. Everything went dark.