Chapter 2: Coward

Hitting the ground, Wirn tasted blood. She spat it out before it could make her gag. Her head and body ached, months of travelling great distances with a heavy pack and sleepless nights were finally weighing down on her. Or maybe it was the thugs who had just beat her into the dirt.

            Wirn had heard stories before, of girls who walked down dark alleys at night, of men who were harassed for simply looking at the wrong person. There was talk a few months ago of a woman who’d got her tongue cut out.

            She never expected this to happen to her though. Mainly because the stories always seemed to take place at night. Also because she was walking down a very busy market street overflowing with people. Wirn always thought that bad people wouldn’t do bad things in broad daylight, so when she crossed the path of a particularly large man, she definitely did not expect said man to accuse he of picking his pockets and dragging her off into the nearest alley. It was when Wirn saw the two other men did she realize that it was a trap.

            Struggling and screaming for help did nothing except tire her out and earn her more kicks. These men were strong, their size definitely not just for show. Out on the street, market goers continued about their business, unheeding and uncaring of the crime taking place not ten feet away. A horse trotted by, led by a soldier and Wirn knew then that no one would save her, not since the war ended and definitely not since she wasn’t a pure Rimvalen. Her accent must have given her away, sealing her fate.

            But no. Even if no one came, she’d be damned if she just let these men do whatever they wanted. If she was going down, she was going down with a fight, Sonica damn it! Wirn braced herself to unleash all hell with some woman’s wrath sprinkled on top upon these men, taking in what she knew could be her last breaths when, “What are you doing there?” A voice called out into the alley.

            The first feeling that washed over Wirn was relief. She wasn’t going to die and she wasn’t going to get hurt trying to use her non-existent fighting techniques on these man-mountains. The next feeling was dead. Up against three man-mountains, this man just might die with her. The dread gave way to distrust. What was the likelihood that this was some self-righteous hero here to save the damsel in distress for no reward? Unlikely, he’s probably demand compensation later. But, escaping from one man may be easier than escaping from three. Unless this man was somehow bigger than them. But Wirn couldn’t be that unlucky. She turned to look at her would-be saviour.

            The man was garbed with a traveller’s cloak that draped to cover his whole body, topped with wild, unkempt and uncut hair that framed dark eyes. Wirn noted the haunted quality in those eyes that she’d come to recognize after the war ended. This man had to have experience a great deal of violence to have eyes like that. Not unlike her own.

            “That’s my servant you’re beating on.” Wirn tried to keep the look of surprise off her face at the man’s words. “I should charge all of you for damaging my property. I paid a good price for her and I expect to use her to her full extent.” The man strode into the alley and yanked Wirn onto her feet. She let him do so, going with his ruse for now. “Come along now, I don’t have all day to wait for you. Didn’t I order you to always stick by my side?” The man scolded Wirn as he made to lead her out of the alley. Wirn managed to apologize profusely, hoping that it would sell the act. One of the men stood in her saviour’s way, blocking the exit.

            “Somehow I just don’t buy it. There’s no way a man like you would own a servant like her. I’ve never head of rich boys like you travelling around before. In fact,” the thug places a big hand on the man’s shoulder, “I think you’re trying to steal our prize from us.” Wirn’s heart was beating in her ears as her fear rose, realizing that these thugs were not about to be fooled. Wirn got ready to make a break for it. If she could, she’d try to pull the man out of the alley with her. It’s not the smartest thing to do but Wirn knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she just left the man who tried to save her to die on his own. Not again.

            The man’s hand disappeared from Wirn’s arm. She heard the slick of metal from a sheath and flinched, expecting pain and impact. When it didn’t come, Wirn opened her eyes to see that the man had pulled out a dagger and held it close to the thug’s throat. The other two thugs moved to ambush the man.

            “Come closer and your friend dies!” the man shouted. “And you,” he addressed the thug who was sweating profusely onto the shiny blade, “I don’t like your hand on me.” The thug backed off but Wirn was still wary of all of them. Everyone seemed ready to pounce at the right opportunity. In one move, without letting go of his dagger, the man took hold of Wirn’s arm again and sped their way out of the alley down the street. Wirn just let the man pull her along, astonished by his sudden burst of speed.

            It wasn’t until they were a good distance away from the men, in a quieter part of town, did the man slow down. He took a glance around before pulling Wirn off the street down a quiet alley. Wirn got ready to make another run for it when the man threw her into the wall and held his dagger under her throat. Wirn felt the cold steel against the skin of her neck and held her breath. “Relax,” the man said, as if he wasn’t threatening her. “I’m trying to help you, I just don’t want you pulling something stupid like running around and screaming at the top of your lungs.”

            Wirn’s eyes widened with surprise as the man spoke perfect Lark. The cold metal disappeared from her neck and Wirn heard the slick as the dagger was returned into its sheath.

            “Who are you?” Wirn asked. The man released her and she checked her neck for any cuts before leaning back against the wall to face the man.

            “That’s not important. What is important is that you leave this town immediately,” the man kept close, his voice low and quiet. “Those men from just now are bound to come after you again if they so much as see you. Get out of town as soon as you can.” Wirn once saw a stone that the foreign traders called ‘obsidian’. This man’s eyes reminded her of ‘obsidian’. “For your own sake, you’ll keep your mouth shut until you learn to speak properly. Your accent is too heavy.” His words felt like an insult to Wirn and she couldn’t help but retaliate.

            “Well I’m sorry I wasn’t born the right race! Your government decided we were inferior and banned our language remember? We can’t speak our own language, we can’t practice our traditions, we can’t even pray to our gods because of you. Forgive me if I don’t pronounce a few words perfectly, you "” the slam of a hand next to Wirn’s head silenced her.

            “Don’t lump me in with that race of thieves. I’m not a Rimvalen,” the man replied. “Come away from your self-pity and realize the reality that you live in. You are in the enemy’s world and if you want to survive, you learn to play by their rules.”

            “Is that what you’ve done? Forsaken your own lineage just so you can live a few more years longer? Have you no pride? No honour?”

            “Do you think dying a dog’s death is honourable?” the man shouted. “As long as I’m alive, I can still do something. In my book, that’s better than just going around saying, ‘I’m the victim! I’m the victim!’ to people who won’t listen to you anyway.”

            “There they are! After them!” the voice of one of the thugs from earlier rang down the alley, interrupting the argument. Both of them turned to look and sure enough, there were the three man-mountains, brandishing weapons.

            “That sword on your back, is it just for show?” It took Wirn a moment to realize that the man was talking about the broadsword she was carrying.

            “Um…” the uncertainty in Wirn’s voice was clear as the men closing in on them. Wirn heard the man swear under his breath and felt a hand latch onto her arm, pulling her further down the alley.

            “Run!” the man shouted as they sped down the alley. The pair turned a corner down another alleyway before coming out onto another street.

            “We have to lose them,” Wirn gasped as she kept up with the man. She cast a glance behind her to see that the men had just come out of the alleyway. The man tugged her down another alley.

            “Way to state the obvious, kid,” the man growled out. Wirn wondered if she heard a slight chuckle but didn’t bother to think too much about it. She had other things to worry about. The alley they ran into led into a busy street, the market still going at full pace. When the man grabbed her hand just now, he’d grabbed her left hand with his left hand and that left her running very awkwardly behind him. Entering a crowded area like that with such an awkward position would only deter them. Wirn shook free of the man’s hand to grab at his right, only to come away empty, clutching at his travelling cloak. Before she had time to react, the man had stepped into the street, pushing his way through the crowd.

            “Split up!” he called out to her and Wirn forged ahead, through the throng of people, not daring to look behind her for fear of what she may see. A clatter occurred to her right and a flock of chickens flew in her face. Wirn swatted them away while the smell of poultry invaded her nostrils. A man shouted and a wave of barrels came rolling across the street. Wirn vaulted over one of them, the bottom of the sword she carried catching, the hilt hitting her on the back of her head. Her feet fumbled from the blow but Wirn regained her footing and kept running.

            A hand grabbed at her pack and pulled her back. Wirn flailed her arms to keep from falling and turned. One of the men had caught up to her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the other two men continue down the street. Wirn did the only thing she could think of in this situation and shot her foot out, landing a kick in between the man’s legs. The grip on her shoulder loosened and Wirn ran off, leaving the man and his groans of pain behind her.

            Down the road, the man had left behind a trail of chaos trying to shake off his pursuers. Broken pottery and fallen fruit, trampled vegetables and innocent bystanders knocked down. Cattle and poultry had broken out of their enclosures and were running loose. It wouldn’t take long for the shopkeepers around her to realize she was involved too. Time to leave town.

            A bull came walking up the street and Wirn ran past it before stopping and watching it walk away. She just had a stupid idea but it wasn’t as if she had a lot of better ones. With a piercing cry, she ran up behind it and leaped onto its back. The bull gave a moo of surprise and bucked, sending Wirn flying off it’s back and crashing into an apple stall. Wirn barely regained her senses wen the bull came charging at her, horns poised and aimed. “Oh Sonica, kill me now,” Wirn cursed her luck as she clambered onto her feet and took off.

            Up ahead, the man had got further away, leaving more messes and destruction in his path. But the road was blocked by a trail of wagons, carting cages filled with animals. A hunting troupe and their spoils. The man had stopped and was facing off with his pursuers, a sword in hand. Wirn saw all this as she approached them but she didn’t have much time to worry about all this with a raging bull at her feet. Another stupid idea popped into her mind.

            “Oi! You! Get out of the way!” Wirn called out to the man, making sure to shout in Lark. The man cast a glance in her direction and dove to the side. The two thugs had heard her screaming and turned to see what was happening. Wirn just shot past the both of them and headed straight for the wall of cages and jumped on, climbing as high as she could, reading herself for impact.

            With a loud crash and a cacophony of animal sounds, the wall of cages tumbled, losing its balance due to the bull charging into it. Wirn came down hard with the cages, landing painfully on the ground with a cage of rabbits on top of her, knocking the air out of her lungs. A hand shot down to pull her up. “Run you idiot!” the man instructed as he dragged her down the road and away from the circus of chaos that they’d just caused.

            They didn’t stop until they were well out of town, deep into the woods surrounding it, having followed a deer trail that led off the track. Wirn was clutching onto a tree for dear life, dry heaving and gasping for breath. Her vision seemed to be greying in the corners. Her knees felt weak and her stomach was ready to empty all its contents. The man was a few feet away from her, panting for breath. He was obviously in better shape than she was.

            A cool wind rustled in the trees and the sun’s rays shone through the leaves overhead. Something rustled the undergrowth and cicada cries filled the air. A twig snapped, a bird fluttered and sang a few woeful notes. Wirn’s vision cleared and the sense of danger in the air passed. Nervously, Wirn let out a chuckle, her shoulders shaking slightly as relief washed over her whole body, causing the chuckle to escalate and turn into a full blown laugh, the type that originates from the gut and uses all the muscles in one’s throat. She looked over to the man to see the faintest of smiles disappearing, his shoulders shaking slightly.

            “Well I think that makes us even,” Wirn proclaimed, keeping the smile on her face. The man stilled, his expression back to its cold exterior.

            “Sorry? I don’t quite understand.”

            “You save my life and I just saved yours so we can call it even.” Wirn explained. The man’s eyes furrowed.

            “I didn’t save your life just so that you would owe me a favour. And what you did isn’t exactly what I would call saving. I’m just happy I didn’t get run over by a bull.”

            “Excuse me, if it weren’t for me, you’d still be running around town and fighting those thugs.”

            “At least I can fight instead of just carrying a great big sword around for show.

            “At least I have two "” Wirn cut herself off before she went further, realizing just what she was about to say. The silence between them grew heavy. The ground around Wirn’s feet was moist, healthy soil, good for growing plants.

            “You noticed,” the man finally said. “I thought I did a good job of hiding it too.”

            “Right before we split up, when I shook free and tried to reach for your other hand. It was then that I realized you only ever used the left. I’m "”

            “Don’t.” Wirn looked at the man with surprise. “Don’t apologize. I’m tired of hearing people say it. You apology means nothing to me. It won’t change what happened.” Wirn felt the shame and guilt fill her up and flush her face. She didn’t know what she could do to diffuse the situation. “Let’s get out of here. It’s supposed to be a four days journey to Corus and we need to make as much distance as we can before nightfall.”

            “We?” Wirn asked confusedly.

            The man indicated the deer trail they were on. “This trail has two ways out and the one behind you leads to a group of people who increasingly hate you. I’d move forward. Unless you want to travel alone. I don’t really care what you choose.” Wirn considered the man’s words and the situation she was in. Here was a man who was more adept at fighting and seemed to show some proficiency with traversing through the woods, considering he took off down the trail without a second thought earlier. He seemed to mean her no harm and she couldn’t go back, so the only logical direction was forward. It wouldn’t hurt to stick with this man for the time being. Wirn moved closer to the man, extending her left hand.

            “I don’t like travelling with strangers. My name is Wirn.”   

            The man seemed to pause before he clasped her hand with his own. “Alden,” he introduced himself. His hand felt warm in hers.

*****

            The sound of cries and thumps carried down the path. The day was hot, the sun beating down on the back of Wirn’s neck. Sweat ran down her back, making her dress cling to her uncomfortably. Looking into the basked she carried, Wirn made sure she packed the blueberry jam before she pushed forward up this ridiculously steep hill. She was not going to walk all the way down and all the way up again just before she did not pack the blueberry jam. She didn’t even like blueberry jam.

            As she reached the top of the hill, she entered a forest. The village of Pleya sat nestled in a valley towards the centre of the Gralin Range. Winters were biting and summers were wet. Surrounded on all sides by hills and forests, Pleya was closed off from the outside world save for the occasional trader who wandered down the path and never came back again.

Wirn gave a look through the leaves at the blue summer sky overhead. Today was one of those rare days in a year when the sun shone bright and high, almost making her forget the deafening silence that trapped the valley when it was caked in snow in the winter. She was getting closer to her destination and the cries and thumps were getting louder. Wirn picked up the pace, lifting her skirt slightly to help her along.

            Wirn had been playing in these woods ever since she was a little girl. She’d walked this path more times than she could count. She knew when the cicadas cried and when the flowers bloomed. She knew which tree turned red first and which branch regained its leaves last. She was never alone though. Wirn stopped when she reached the glade, a smile on her face.

“You know, if you just swing at air, you’ll never lose a fight,” she said as she walked to the middle of the glade, setting her basked on the tree that had fallen there. ‘Glade was really being generous. The space was small and there was barely a foot of space around the tree. Wirn didn’t remember a time when the tree wasn’t there and it felt wrong to remove it.

            “Wirn, you just don’t get it. The enemy in my mind is as powerful as my imagination. I win because I can beat even my own imagination,” Enwirden jumped down from his perch on the tree to dig through the basket.

            “Sure En, it doesn’t help at all that you can anticipate your enemy’s every move,” Wirn pulled out the blueberry jam, offering it to Enwirden with a loaf of bread.

“Of course, I’m just that good,” Enwirden dipped the bread into the ham and took a massive bite out of it, munching noisily and scarfing it down.

“Yes, I bet the trees are terrified of you,” Wirn gestured at the trees surrounding them, scuffed with nicks and marks from Enwirden’s sword. “Enwirden the Glade Slayer. I’m sure your foes far and wide will quake in their boots.” Wirn gave a yelp of protest when Enwirden ruffled her hair for her comment. He jumped back up onto the tree and made himself comfortable, his broadsword leaning next to him on the ground.

“So, what happened?” he asked, that knowing look on his face. Wirn flopped down on the ground next to the sword, the blade glinting in the sunlight. She debated whether or not she should talk, pulling up the grass flowers growing around her and arranging them in a pile. “Did you get in a fight again?” Enwirden asked, the toe of his boot prodding her. Wirn waved his foot away and gave a heaving sigh. She recognized a battle she wouldn’t win.

“I got fired,” she answered. The heat on the back of her neck wasn’t the sun. It travelled to her ears and Wirn fought back the urge to cry as Enwirden stayed silent. “I’m sorry,” she continued, “I know how hard it was to convince Mister Baro to let me work at his shop, but, but…” Wirn’s tears fell freely now and she wiped at them with the sleeve of her dress.

Enwirden slid down by her side to pull Wirn into his shoulder. “What did he say?” Wirn sobbed into his shoulder for a few minutes before she replied.

“It wasn’t him,” she sniffled, “It was Soren.” Enwirden stiffened but didn’t say anything. “He came into the shop and,” Wirn hiccupped. Enwirden started trailing his fingers through her hair to calm her down. “And he talked about the conscription going on. The whole village was talking about it since Caulkin came back from Iria last week. And then,” Wirn’s shoulders shook as more tears fell from her face. Enwirden made shushing noises and held her tighter until she stopped shaking. “And then, he said that maybe it’s a good thing young men were getting conscripted because he didn’t want any… he said that you and I…” Wirn stopped talking when Enwirden places a finger on her lips.

“You don’t have to repeat what he said,” Enwirden wiped the tears off of Wirn’s face. “So how did this get you fired?” Wirn studied the lacing of her dress, he ears firing up again. She never noticed that the hem was coming loose. She’d have to fix that. “Wirn,” the warning tone in Enwirden’s voice was unmistakable.

“I sort of… lost my temper… and… punched him… across the jaw… and into the ground… until Mister Baro pulled me off,” Wirn could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed. Enwirden snorted. That snort turned into a chuckle that turned into a full on laugh. Enwirden guffawed until his eyes watered.

“Oh, my stomach hurts, oh haha, oh, Soren got beat into the ground by a fifteen year old girl. Oh, that’s hilarious.” By this time, Wirn started laughing too.

“Yeah, it is hilarious isn’t it?”

“Idiot!” Wirn got his upside the head. “You know how Soren talks. He’s going to tell everyone he sees about how, ‘Wirn is a wild, short-tempered girl who resorts to violence when she’s angry.’ How in the world are you going to get married now?” Wirn groaned and crawled out of Enwirden’s embrace, moving to admire Enwirden’s broadsword, running her finger up and down the blade. “Seriously Wirn, who’s going to take care of you in your old age? I promised mother and father that I’d look after you but you’re making it so difficult to marry you off.”

“Well what if I don’t want to get married?” Enwirden gasped in shock.

“But, if you don’t get married, how will I know you’ll be taken care of when I leave?” Wirn gave Enwirden a look that told him exactly what she thought about his reasoning.

“That’s so selfish! You want to marry me off just so you can travel the world? That’s ridiculous!”

“I’m not travelling the world! I just want to join the army! It just means I might travel the world!”

“So that means I have to get married?” Wirn wailed.

“I need to know you’re taken care of!”
            “So take me with you!”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“I don’t care!”

The siblings looked at each other, glared in their eyes. Slowly, the glared softened and Wirn crawled over, wrapping her arms around Enwirden’s waist.

“The rumours are scary,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“Do you really have to go?”

“If the call comes and the rumours prove true, I must.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I know.”

“Don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t.”

A breeze blew in the trees and a bird called overhead, lulling Wirn to shut her eyes.

Wirn opened them and she was in the hollow of the tree, huddled and scared. The village was on fire; a small troop of soldiers came by to raze it down. The villagers were dead; she could still hear their screams. She was with Enwirden in his forge when it happened and he’d told her to run up here to hide. She did as she was told but now her heart was beating in her ears and her palms were sweaty and she didn’t know where Enwirden was. A hand clutched her wrist and she screamed. Another hand shut her mouth.

 “It’s just me,” Enwirden’s face appeared. “Don’t come out, the soldiers are coming this way, I think they saw me climb up here.”

“En, let’s just run,” Wirn suggested. She started to make her way out of the tree when Enwirden’s hand pushed her back as he shook his head.

“No, we won’t be able to outrun them. Just stay in here, you’ll be safe.”

“What about "”

“Shush.” Enwirden disappeared and Wirn heard the sound of heavy footsteps enter the glade. There was the clinking of metal against metal, what Wirn assumed must be the armour the soldiers were wearing. The soldiers started talking but Wirn didn’t understand what was being said. She heard the slick of metal being pulled out of its sheath and hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She hiccupped when she heard the clash of metal hitting hard against metal and covered her mouth with her hands, closing her eyes and huddling closer into herself. It wasn’t long until the clashes stopped and she heard the clinking of armour disappear.

Shakily, Wirn crawled out of her hiding place, the grass underneath her hands felt sharp. She looked around the glade and saw Enwirden lying on his back, facing the stars. The grass around him was wet and Wirn drew him closer to her.

“En? En, come on, the soldiers went away. See? They were scared of you after all. Enwirden the Glade Slayer. Come on; let’s get out of here. You have to joint he army and marry me off and see the world right?” The flames from the village were dyeing the night sky red, sending sparks to imitate stars. Enwirden didn’t say anything.

“En? Come on, this isn’t funny anymore. Get up. Please?” Enwirden was eerily still in her shaking hands. The broadsword in her brother’s hand glinted silently.

“En, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I punched Soren okay? I won’t do it again. I’ll go back and apologize to Mister Baro. I’ll be good. I’ll behave and learn how to make loads of blueberry jam for when you come home to visit.” Wirn’s voice cracked as she cried into Enwirden’s cooling shoulder.

“You said you wouldn’t leave me alone. En, don’t leave me alone.”

The crack of the firewood woke Wirn up, the remnants of her words at her lips. Sitting up, she wiped her face dry with her travelling cloak. Across the campfire, Alden was leaning against a tree, his cloak pulled closed against the cold summer night. Wirn chose instead to lie on the ground, piling leaves under her. They’ve been walking for two days and Wirn was exhausted. Around them, cicadas cried and Wirn rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She wasn’t getting to sleep normally tonight she just knew it. Rummaging in her pack, Wirn jumped when Alden spoke.

“You mumble a lot in your sleep.” Wirn kept her eyes trained on her pack, her ears heating up. Maybe she saved some lavender she could sniff on to help her sleep.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, feeling as if she should at least apologize. Just her luck, there wasn’t any lavender to be found. Wirn cursed under her breath. The cicadas were especially loud tonight. Wirn pulled her cloak closer to herself as she settled back down but not before she threw another log into the fire. “I hate cicadas,” she mumbled.

“Do they give you nightmares?” Alden’s voice was clear, as if he hadn’t just woken up. Wirn didn’t answer; it seemed obvious enough. Alden got up and rummaged through his pack, finding what he wanted and tossing it over to Wirn. It was the size of her hand and shaped like a coned spiral that started from a point and grew in size until it ended with a mouth-like opening. There weren’t found back where Wirn came from but she knew it was called a shell. Children passed the time by looking for these if they lived close enough to the shore. This was the first time she saw one this big though.

“Hold it up to your ear,” Alden instructed. Sceptically, Wirn brought the shell to her ear, unsure of what would happen. When the opening was close enough, Wirn heard a soft hum, like a breeze blowing over fields of wheat, or like the rustle of the leaves in a tree, or…

“It sounds like "”

“The ocean.”

“Yeah. How does it do that?” Wirn asked. Alden merely shrugged by way of an answer.

“I just know it makes the sound. Keep holding it to your ear, it should help you sleep.” Wirn’s eyes widened in surprise at Alden’s kindness. Maybe he wasn’t as gruff and stoic as she first thought he was.

Holding the shell in the light, Wirn admired its shape, how it could produce the sound of the ocean. “I dreamt of the war "”

“I don’t make it a habit to stick my nose into someone else’s business. Everyone has a past. I gave you a magic rock to send you to sleep so be quiet and pretend it works.” Wirn pouted at Alden’s interruption but settled back down, holding the shell close to her and concentrating on the sound it made. A sigh cut the silence.

“So, what happened?” Alden asked and Wirn let a small smile grace the corners of her lips, before she turned to look at the sky. The stars overhead were so bright, they seemed to be forming a bridge across the heavens. Wirn held he shell away from her ear, not wanting to taint the sound with a bad memory, and began to talk.