East of the Facility, Eganene
“How are we still alive?” he asked Agatha, peering about the musician’s wagon. “I just don’t understand it. We’ve been in here for almost a week. The weather outside has been insane, and we don’t have a fire. I know it isn’t toasty in here, but it isn’t freezing either.”
The old woman shrugged, looking at the door, “Artemus will be back today. You can ask him if you want. He said the storm would break, that we would be leaving soon.”
“Do you know how they do it, though?”
“It’s possible the wood is spelled,” she answered, touching the side of the cabin with her old fingers. “I’ve never spent time in a Yillel wagon before. The stories say they have their own majic, a more innate kind than I do. Artemus told me that the Family kills them sometimes, but that the Family doesn’t really believe the Yillel have majic.”
Jamie grunted, tearing off a piece of bread and stuffing it into his mouth. At least being trapped inside the wagon had given him time to rest. He felt better than he had since Agatha cast her spell on him. The muscles he had built traveling and sword fighting ached to get out and move, but he had put some weight back on and his face no longer looked gaunt and frightening. He heard a creak on the step and turned to the door.
It was a great rush. A dozen people tramped up the steps and into the wagon, their arms filled with instruments and boxes, skins of wine and even a cask of ale. Jamie and Agatha retreated from their table, backing towards the cots as the babble of voices grew to a dull roar. Jamie recognized Kretsca and her mother, Artemus, and two of the men who tossed the fire swords. The people just kept coming.
“Holy, crap,” he said out loud. “How are they going to fit them all in here?”
But fit they did. It was like the space somehow got larger with each new person that entered. Within minutes, the troupe had loaded all their props and possessions, hiding boxes above and beneath, utilizing every spare inch of space. The last two kids, a pair of younger boys, stepped into the cabin and shut the door.
“All set!” one hollered, and Jamie felt the wagon jump forward. They must have been hitching the horses while the rest of the group loaded everything.
At the movement, Agatha stumbled.
Jamie caught her and helped her onto one of the cots.
She smiled at him, her wispy hair loose around her face, “That’s the second time you caught me.”
“That feels like forever ago,” he said, remembering the stairwell in the building that had looked like his, but hadn’t been.
She took his hand, “We’ve come along way.”
Ignoring the commotion around them, Jamie sat beside Agatha, drawing his legs onto the cot so that he was as far out of the way as possible.
“Of course, I hope they aren’t there,” she continued. “But if Bekka and Elisabeth are at this Facility, all this might soon be over.”
Jamie shook his head. They had been over this before, and he still wasn’t sure how he was supposed to help. He had only been practicing with the sword since Faenella. And, he hadn’t even won his first fight.
“I saw you with Ian,” Agatha said, reading his mind. “I think you’re better than you give yourself credit for. He was as close to a master of his craft as he could come. He was a Smith’s son, for goodness sakes.”
“You have magic,” he replied. “You can just zap them all with that blue net thing. They’ll never even get close to you.”
She shook her head, “That’s not how it works. I only have so much Power inside me. I can draw more from the ground and air, but…I’m not what I once was.”
Jamie tried not to get angry. She had gotten him into this mess, she had better use whatever magic she had to get Elisabeth and Bekka out of that place. “And Artemus?” he asked. “And this bunch of…people?”
“He said they would fight.”
They didn’t look like much to him, not the singers and dancers, anyway. Maybe if it wasn’t all an act, then the fire sword men might come in handy. He sighed, wishing he had an opportunity to practice. The snow had been severe, and Agatha said it wasn’t worth the risk of being seen.
He didn’t agree. It felt like he wasn’t prepared for what was coming. Agatha and Artemus had been born here, they had an idea of how the Family fought and what to expect. Jamie had no clue.
“It will go well,” Agatha said, soothingly. “Artemus has read the board. He has seen that help that is coming. You won’t be alone.”
“Yeah, I know,” Jamie muttered. He still hadn’t managed to place the man in his memory, not at the park in New Orleans at least. The man he had played with, the one whose name had also been Artemus, had been older and thinner than the musician. They couldn’t be the same person. If Jamie had met Artemus in that park, he would have been younger, not older. Still, the memory tingled at the edge of his thoughts as if his mind was trying to tell him something.
It took an hour of travel for the Yillel to finish putting everything away and make themselves comfortable in the wagon. Jamie counted the cots and realized that the troupe must sleep in shifts. It did seem like there were strange extra spaces in the back though. How had he not noticed that before?
He wondered who was driving the wagon, but he didn’t know the group well enough to figure it out.
Who knew, he thought. Perhaps the damn thing drove itself.
To pass the time, Jamie watched Artemus. The old man stayed to the front of the cabin either directing others or in deep discussion with Kretsca’s mother. He had on a beaded yellow shirt, but now wore more functional heavy, brown pants. Eventually though, the man’s eyes set on Agatha.
“Hello, Agatha,” the old man said, sitting across from them and crossing one leg over the other so that there was still room to pass down the aisle.
Jamie looked at the witch and watched her blush.
“Artemus,” she replied, combing an errant lock of hair back behind her ears. “I can’t thank you enough for sheltering us from that mob.”
Jamie felt her elbow in his ribs. “Thanks,” he added, belatedly. “I know she’s right. We wouldn’t have survived the storm.” He glanced at Agatha, “She doesn’t want me to ask, but I have to. What happened to our horses? Bain was…he was special to me. I wouldn’t want him to end up with those monsters. I saw how they treated their horses.”
Artemus shook his head, “Don’t worry. I had them hitched to our train. They are doing a fine job and speeding our journey.”
“They just let you have them?” Jamie asked, confused.
Artemus laughed, the forks of his beard bouncing in the candlelight. “Not remotely. I won them in dice from the Innkeep.” He smiled at Kretsca, motioning her to come and join him. “That poor old man,” he continued, “couldn’t keep his eyes off this little one’s dance. She’s got talent, she does.”
Jamie had to agree. He smiled, and she winked back at him. He hoped she kept far from the fighting. “How long will it take us to get to the Facility?”
“Not long,” Artemus replied. “Your horses will help speed our journey. We have food for them that will let them travel day after day without rest. They can’t do it forever, of course, but they’ll last the week.”
He held up his hands to forestall Jamie’s argument, “Do not fear, young Hunter. Bain will be just as healthy on the other end of the road. He’ll have lost a few pounds, but not much else. This is old herb lore. The stuff of my grandfather’s grandfather’s people.”
“Majic, you mean?” Agatha said, sitting forward.
Artemus smiled and shook his head, “Of course not, Madam. My people would be slaughtered if we were to use majic. We do nothing of the kind. It is only potions, herbs and recipes passed down through generations.”
Agatha harrumphed.
Artemus left them, then, and surprisingly he didn’t return to talk at length for the rest of the trip. Jamie had been right. The troupe did sleep in shifts. Artemus had been correct, as well. The horses only stopped long enough for people to relieve themselves, then they were back inside and moving again.
When he did have an opportunity, Jamie made it a point to steal a few moments to practice. He was always the last one back in the wagon and he ignored the pointed looks from the rest of the group. Not that he didn’t share their concern. The air was growing warmer by the hour, they all could feel it.
Once the snow melted entirely, the troupe would have to change the skids on the wagon. Jamie understood Artemus was trying to get to the Facility before that happened, but he couldn’t help worrying. He wasn’t ready. Not for a war, not to attack some insane group of people that had made a habit of killing people over the last decade.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help. He just didn’t want to die. And practice, whether Artemus liked it or not, was what was going to save his skin.
“Five more minutes!” he called, ignoring Agatha’s calls. They always sent her to fetch him.
He went through his forms once more and then sighed. At least this time he had worked up a decent sweat. She was waiting for him at the door. “I’m here. OK, fine. Let’s go.”
She put a hand on his chest. They were at a higher elevation now, climbing what had to be the Appalachian Mountains, or whatever they were called here. “Jamie,” she said, and he realized the door was closed behind her. She wanted the privacy of the open wilderness. “Walk with me.”
He took her hand and helped her down from the stairs. The snow was only inches deep now. If they hadn’t been in the mountains, the forest floor would have been brown instead of white. “What is it?” he asked her as they walked away.
She took a deep breath, “We’re almost there. I…I wanted to give you a chance to reconsider.”
“What?” he asked, incredulous.
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She took his hand. The wrinkles of age were on the outside of her palm. The inside was soft and smooth. “When we left that Inn, I was afraid. Artemus and this plan were our only hope of survival. I would have done anything to get us out of there. I might have Traveled, might have took us back to Earth.
The Family would have found us. They would have killed us. But now that we have some distance, now that I’ve had some space…well, I need to talk to you. To ask you if you really want to do this.”
Jamie shook his head. His hair was getting longer now and it brushed his cheek. “I don’t have a choice, Agatha. If they really have Elisabeth and Bekka, if there is even a chance that they do, then I have to help.”
“I’ve heard Artemus talking,” Agatha revealed. “There are many men coming. From several towns around this area. They are fighters, warriors, real Hunters who have practiced at killing. You…you are strong and brave. But, Jamie, you’ve never hurt anyone in your life. You’ve never killed someone.”
She frowned, “This will be a battle. A fight to the death. Kill or be killed. Just like in those war movies they have on Earth. Think Middle Earth or King Arthur’s court mixed with Al Capone.”
Jamie laughed, unable to help himself, “You know your shit!”
“The local library had a good assortments of videos to rent. I had to learn about your people somehow.” She wagged a finger at him. “You know what I learned, Jamie? I learned we are the same. That besides majic, our worlds have the same problems. Greed. Pride. All the sins.”
“I don’t care about any of that,” Jamie said. “I just want Elisabeth back. Her and Bekka both. And I want to go home.”
“I know you do,” Agatha replied. Scottie had followed her outside and was rubbing himself against her ankles. She stooped and picked him up. “I want to take us all home, too.”
Jamie glanced at the wagon, “You think they can fight? You believe him when he says that help is coming?”
She nodded.
“Then we have to try. Artemus said that place takes women and children, that it does terrible things to them. Bekka and Elisabeth would have been all alone. They would have been easy targets for the Family.”
“And,” he continued, “we owe these people for helping us.”
“We do.”
“You’ll use your majic?”
Her fingers skimmed down the cat’s orange and white fur, “Yes. If we attack the Facility, we are committed. There’ll be no point in hiding anymore. The Family will know where we are.”
“Won’t they send people after you?”
Agatha looked down. She looked older than she had before, as if the wrinkles in her face had grown deeper with worry. “Yes, but we will have people to help us. People to fight with us. We won’t be alone.”
“So what happens to the plan you had before? We were going to your friends for help.”
She sighed, and Scottie shifted in her arms. His eyes followed the passage of the birds above their heads. There was a large flock of them, the group migrating home now that winter was formally over. Jamie envied them. That was his wish, too. He wanted to go home.
“It depends on a lot of things,” Agatha answered. “If Bekka and Elisabeth are in this Facility, then we can return to Earth. We just have to figure out how to do it without being followed.”
He didn’t want to ask what happened if they were not. “Come on,” he said. “We should get back.”
Jamie helped Agatha back up the wagon’s steps, but he didn’t return to their cot with her. Instead, he sat up front with Artemus and Kretsca. He wanted to hear what they had to say about the Facility. He didn’t have long to wait.
“We should be close by nightfall,” the old man explained. “Obviously, we can’t just drive up to the front gate, so David and Noah will scout the mountain.”
“Who?” Jamie asked, self-consciously. He still didn’t know all their names.
Kretsca giggled, “They are the fire tossers.’
“Right.”
“If everyone else is on schedule,” Artemus continued, “we should be meeting the other wagons there.”
Jamie was confused, “You were planning on attacking them this whole time?”
“No, others are heading to fight and we want to help them.”
“But how do you know?” Jamie asked. “You’ve been stuck in that Inn for the whole storm.”
“The board told me,” Artemus replied.
Jamie sighed, trying not to discount the man’s words. Eganene was different than Earth. He had seen enough majic to know. If Artemus said the board told him there would be fighters, then he might as well believe him.
The old man tugged at the braided forks in his beard, “I have something for you, if you’ll take the gift.”
Kretsca started bouncing in her chair, her little face all scrunched up with excitement.
Jamie looked from one to the other. He didn’t have any money, but Artemus said it was a gift, “I guess. What is it?”
“Can I get it?” Kretsca asked, peering up at her grandfather.
When the old man nodded, she scurried to the back of the carriage. Jamie envied the way she walked. The rolls and dips in the floorboards hardly affected her at all. She was back in minutes, her arms weighed down by a huge bundle. Hurrying, she dropped it into Jamie’s lap and then sat beside him, her side against his side.
He made it a point not to pull away. She was the only one who ever touched him, and he still wasn’t used to the physical contact. Why she wasn’t afraid of his scars was another mystery, but one he didn’t have time to ponder right now. Instead, he pulled at the rope that bound the package together.
Once loose, he pulled the string off and wrapped it around his hand, giving it to Kretsca. In Eganene, everything was useful. They would use the rope again. There was a lantern on the post beside him and the light swayed across his knees. Even so, he knew what the package contained.
Swallowing, he unfolded the leather jerkin, feeling the ring mail that had been sewn over the back and chest. There were pants, as well, and mesh covers for his boots. Metal was precious here, and fine work like this was worth a fortune.
“This is too much,” Jamie whispered.
Artemus shook his head, his white hair resembling a lion’s mane, “Nonsense. All our boys will be wearing the same. It helps to identify you as an ally and the mail was sewn by my daughter, Melvia.”
Pain flashed across the old man’s face, “She is one of the women you are going to be saving. It’s only fitting that you wear her mail as you do it.”
“I…” Jamie started. His instinct was to disagree, to make Artemus take the gift back, but he needed the armor. The leather clothes Selinda had given him were functional and good, but they were Hunter’s garb. If he was going to be fighting for his life, the ring mail was the obvious option.
“Thank you.”
Jamie waited to change. Artemus had been correct on his timing. They stopped the carriage at nightfall, and even from inside, he could hear the exchange of excited greetings. Agatha had told them these people all had an affinity for one another. They intermarried between caravans, but never with anyone who was not Yillel. Kretsca was probably seeing all her cousins, aunts and uncles.
It would have been a nice thing to have so much family, he thought. It was only him and Elisabeth. He couldn’t even count their mother. She wasn’t ever home.
With everyone gone, he stood in the back of the wagon and pulled off his clothes. He looked down at himself, seeing his muscular chest and arms. Sports had made him athletic, but he was something more now. Deliberately, he moved his arms, watching the blue scars that crisscrossed his skin and traveled over his shoulders. Strong and ugly, he was like a beast from a Disney movie.
Hopefully, he would be able to rescue the damsels in distress.
He laughed at himself and pulled on his armor. It fit perfectly, tight to his body but not tight enough to restrict his movement. The only downside that he could see was that it was heavy. He imagined doing his exercises and wondered how much faster he would tire. They wouldn’t attack tonight, he told himself. He would have another chance to practice.
Dressed the part, he walked to the carriage door. Quickly, before he could change his mind, he opened it and stepped out into the dusk light. “No way,” he breathed. “No freaking way.”
They had stopped in a clearing, Artemus’ wagon one of a dozen that were circled about an open center area. All the carriages were brightly colored, the wood painted with scenes of music and dance. But that wasn’t the surprising part.
It was the people. There had to be at least a hundred of them, their voices filling the area. They spoke quietly, but with that many people the sound was like a gentle roar. Jamie thought it sounded like a million bees all hovering around the same flower.
“More than you expected?” Agatha asked, seeing him emerge. “The armor suits you.”
Jamie grunted, “There are a lot of children. How many fighters are there? How many people are there at the Facility?”
“I don’t know, but they will have a war council tonight. These wagons are only the Yillel. Artemus said there were villagers coming. Faenella is coming, too.”
Jamie laughed, “So you’re saying I’ll know people?”
They didn’t dare light fires. They were only a half-day’s ride from the Facility. There was no ambient light here, no homes, no ski mountains, and no radio towers. It reminded him of the nights he had spent with Ian and Agatha, and he felt saddened by the thought.
When it was truly night and the moon was high in the sky, Artemus tapped his shoulder, signaling him to follow. The head of each wagon carried a lantern to the center of the clearing and sat beside it looking out into the assembled crowd. Artemus made him carry one, which was how Jamie found himself seated with a dozen men regarding the forest while a hundred dark faces stared back at him.
All the men in the center wore the same mail he did, as did many of the younger adults in the crowd, men and women both. These were the fighters, the people he would be going to war with in the morning. He wanted to be surprised about the women, but he wasn’t. The women in Artemus’ troupe had been as skilled as the men in tossing knives. They had just done it while singing and dancing at the same time.
Everyone had a voice, not just the people fighting.
Jamie had read Lord of The Flies and it wasn’t a conch shell they passed around, but it was a similar concept. One of the center group, one the leaders, would walk out into the crowd and give their lantern to someone who wished to speak. It was a slow process, but the walk gave people time to think, to weigh their words carefully before they said them.
Jamie gave his lantern to no one. He sat and listened, trying to understand these people and how they expected to storm a guarded compound and rescue their loved ones. There was no talk of magic, but there was much discussion on trickery and deviousness. Any magician, he thought, would have been proud to call themselves Yillel.
David and Noah returned in the middle of the discussion. Jamie half expected them to be bare chested with short pants rolled to their knees, but they were dressed in Hunter’s clothes and had painted their faces black and brown. It was perfect camouflage for the nighttime forest.
Artemus handed one of them a lantern and the men stood, recounting to the entire group what they had seen. It took them a long time. They described the topography surrounding the compound, each of the buildings and all the fortifications. Family men were stationed in along the ramparts of the wall and manned the main gate. There was even a man posted on a drain opening near the forest.
“They seem ready for us,” David concluded. “Or they’ve had an issue in the past weeks.”
Noah agreed, “That’s true, but we didn’t see a lot of man power. I think they’re low in numbers, putting on a show to dissuade attack.”
“Dawn, then? That is still our plan?” Artemus asked.
A big man behind him answered, “If the villagers are ready. I sent my boy to check with them.”
The man was tall and heavy set, his hair long and pleated with ribbons, the ends trailing down his back. Somehow, Jamie thought, he managed to look imposing, anyway.
“At least they’re quiet,” the leader behind Jamie added.
Artemus turned to glare at him, “They’re risking their lives the same us. Let’s leave the snide remarks and insults for a happier time.”
Some of the crowd stamped their feet on the ground. Jamie knew it was a sign of agreement, a quiet approval for the words of their elder.
One of the crowd had their hand raised. When he received the lantern, he asked, “Your boy knows our plan?”
“He’ll communicate our wishes to the villagers” the big man with the ribbons replied.
A man in the crowd stood and received a lantern. He said, “I mean no disrespect. But what if your son was captured? What if the Family knows of our plans?”
A smattering of stamping feet followed this remark.
“He went with a guard. Good men, from our wagon. He’ll return tonight and we will know how many men the villages have brought. I spoke to one of these men myself.” He spoke softly, but his voice carried so that the entire crowd could hear his words.
“A grizzled old man he was. But a veteran of many battles. He told me they would bring many men, as many as their towns could gather. He said that they would have men who could fight and others that were willing but that had never touched a sword before.”
The big man moved his lantern closer to his face, to let the people see his expression. “I trust this man. I believed his words.”
Agatha had said that one of the towns was Faenella and Jamie wondered who he had talked to. Maybe it was the Hunter, Carl, or perhaps Tobius and Sam.
“Everyone should prepare themselves tonight and arm themselves. Any extra weapons or armor, put in this circle,” said the man behind Jamie. “The children should begin mixing as soon as this meeting is over. And then we all should get some rest. Dawn will come early.”
“Are there any other questions?” Artemus asked the crowd. Jamie noted he lowered his voice when he spoke. He sounded commanding, like he knew what was coming and was in control of the situation. Perhaps that was what leaders did. They pretended they knew everything to make everyone feel better.
When no one answered, he stood. The rest of the leaders followed him. They left their lanterns on the ground.
“Pray with me,” the big man said.
As one, the crowd bowed. Moonlight reflected from the tops of a hundred people’s heads, lighting on hair, scarves and ribbons. Jamie did as they did, uncomfortable with watching them. He was part of this, willing to risk his life. He could use some prayers.
“Wul and Rae, Lady of the Moon and Lord of the Light. Please guide us tomorrow. Lubhyati, help us to bring home those we love. We ask you Sorage to visit our enemies, but if we must go, please Tod, take our hands.”
“Help us find our loved ones,” he sighed.
A hundred names rushed out of the darkness, a whispered tide of hope that fled into the black forest. Jamie heard Artemus say, “Melvia.”
“Bless us,” the group said in unison, their voices husky in the darkness.
“Bless us,” Jamie repeated.