As he
watched the embers of the fire glow, all he could think of was this
young woman that could have been his own child leading a howling
horde of men into battle against another group with which there were
two of the terrifying but beautiful people arrayed in black. He tried
to tell himself it was just a dream. He did his best to tell himself
that no one would let a mere girl dally with such men let alone take
arms and attempt to battle them, nay, lead them in battle. Halthor
shuddered.
Outside,
the voices on the wind began to stop begging for entrance. They sang
of dawn and daylight. They called out for him to step out into the
day. Halthor's right hand gripped and released the haft of his hammer
rhythmicly. It wasn't a conscious gesture. "I wish they'd shut
up and let me think," he muttered. Ewen scoffed in his bundled
up blanket.
"That'd
make it easier. You sleep and I'll mind the night singers," the
ferryman said. Halthor looked over at him as he sat up. Ewen paused a
moment and tipped his head slightly to the right to listen better.
"They're singing of day break. That's a good hour off. This is
when they get you," he said, shaking his head, "You hear a
choir singing of dawn and rising light. It sounds beautiful and as
though it was a thing of the world that should have been. Then you
open the door and the screaming horrors come in. And slaughter comes
with the wind that puts out most of your hearth light."
Halthor
looked over at him. "I thought that was just a story," he
said.
"After
last night?" Ewen said dryly and Halthor looked mildly
chigrined. Ewen waved a hand. "It's a good hour to be up. Then I
won't be away from Grand-da too long. Last night was not good. I am
concerned for him."
"What
happened to your father? Was he a priest as well?" Halthor
asked. Ewen shook his head. He looked over at the door that rattled
slightly with the force of the wind blowing on it, making it press
insistently into Halthor's broad shoulders.
"I
was seven. I woke up early because I hear voices singing. I wanted to
see who was singing so early in the morning. I opened the door. A
woman walked in with her feet not touching the ground. She opened her
mouth and it was full of teeth like knives. I screamed and ran.
Grand-da heard my scream and my parents. Uncle Mavora ran in and
pulled him out as the gore eaters were clawing for him. They ripped
out uncle Mavora's tongue as he threw Davian to safety. Stag's grace
that dawn came when it did, for they very nearly pulled my uncle into
what was once my home." Ewen looked at his cousin that was also
his brother. "Until we were of age, I was raised by Grand-da and
Davian by Mavora. Then my older brother came here to mind the
traveler's rest. I became the ferryman after an arguably short
apprenticeship and uncle Mavora went into the temple. Davian doesn't
think of himself as my brother. We were but a year a part. Some
thought us twins. I doubt that wound will heal. I understand why."
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