Still Falling: Book 1: Solstice 31 Saga (17 page)

“Yes, I have lessons queued up already. Daily formal sessions as well as other times, like when Olias is en route on salvage runs,”
Em said in his mind.

“Have Olias collect books and maps if he finds any. Show him how to take images of paintings and tapestries. They can contain info as well.”

“
Anything specific you would like Ash to do before he starts again on the wall work?”
Em asked.

“Have Ash furnish the loft in the gatehouse as a study for me. I use too much firewood in the main throne room. The loft is smaller. The cots are already gone, I noticed. Make sure it has at least one comfy chair. The rest is up to you. I can change it later if something comes up,” Barcus said. “We are working Par and Ash pretty hard. What is the power situation for both? I never worked on kinetic systems.”

“They both use synthetic kinetic fiber for locomotion,” Em began. “Fibers that work like muscles with tiny micro voltage. The battery in your multi-tool’s flashlight could power Ash for a year. Both are served by solar batteries just fine. Some systems take a lot of power, like flood lights, cooling, heavy transmissions,” Em added. “But we have not used them much.”

“Olias and I are both ready now,” Par said.

Barcus walked up the ramp with Olias and showed him where to sit. “While you are with Par, in here, you can speak to me at any time. Par knows what to do. Keep the Plate with you while you are away from Par. Good luck.” Barcus showed him the five-point harness and helped to strap him in.

“You will see things here few have seen,” Barcus said kneeling next to Olias.

“Thank you, Barcus, for trusting me.” The common words were almost difficult for Barcus. He had been practicing.

Barcus answered with a slap on Olias’s shoulder and a quick exit. He and Po watched as the ramp closed and Par began to move out and over the wall.

***

“Do you have your Plate with you?” He knew she did. “Let me show you something.”

“Say this,” he whispered in her ear, and she repeated, “Plate, locate Olias.”

A map displayed of the region, as Olias and Par were moving fast down the south road.

“You can always find us this way.” He said.

“This is how the birds see the land? From high above?” Barcus whispered in her ear again.

“Plate, show me the route they will take to Greenwarren.” The view zoomed out and showed the path they would take to Greenwarren.

Then without prompting, she said, “Plate, show me where Langforest Manor is.” The map zoomed out a bit more and showed another point almost directly south of The Abbey, but much further than Greenwarren.

“What is that place?” Barcus had not heard of it before.

“I grew up there.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Salvage Run

“The Emergency Module did not take into account all possible potential  dangers on this planet.”

--Solstice 31 Incident Investigation Testimony Transcript: Emergency Module Digital Forensics Report. Independent Tech Analysis Team.

<<<>>>

Par woke Olias when she reached Greenwarren. The morning sky was dark gray with the threat of snow. He and Par had spent an hour earlier, discussing the list of items they needed. Olias had described where most of the items could be found. Par told Olias that most of the bodies had been collected and consolidated inside a barn just outside of town – both soldiers and townsfolk.

Their first stop was Joseph's wood shop. Joseph crafted all kinds of trunks, chests, cabinets and even barrels. They would collect several trunks and barrels, which they would fill with the many small items on the lists for easier collection and transport. They chose eleven trunks to start with and began at the inn because it had the biggest kitchen. One entire trunk was filled with just spices. Olias learned quickly to leave the trunk where Par could pick it up when it was heavy.

The next trunk was filled with a selection of pots and pans and cooking utensils, packed tightly with towels and cloth napkins. Knives, forks, spoons, ladles, cutters, rolling pins, baking gear and more went into the next trunk, Olias listing each off as he packed it. He even topped it off with several ale mugs and wine glasses wrapped in towels.

A room-by-room search of the inn revealed seven books of topics unknown. He found four purses with a good quantity of gold, silver and copper coins. He found a beautiful sword and crossbow under the bed in one room. He took them, too.

Many staple food items were collected, like bags of beans and flour. Several barrels were filled with potatoes. Olias loved potatoes. He also saw to candles, lamps and lamp oil.

Multiple trunks were impossibly heavy, filled with tools and supplies, like nails.

Three trunks were filled with clothes, one for each of them.

Four more books were discovered, and Olias was surprised to note that two of them belonged to the blacksmith, where he had lived.

When all the priority items were loaded, Par was about half full. Olias was really good at packing. He used blankets and heavy cloaks as packing material. He filled gaps with nice rugs. He managed eight more cots and mattresses for them and still had room. He added several plain chairs.

For Barcus, he added several cases of wine and hard spirits.

Right after that was when he found the goats and chickens. Luckily, he also found four chicken baskets that allowed him to take all eight chickens. He couldn't crate the goats, so he tied them and closed them into the back of Par as the ramp was raised. Then he entered via the small, round emergency belly hatch that opened directly under the feet of the driver.

He and Par updated the lists, and he realized he was tired. He would need to make at least one more trip here. He left two of the hay barn doors open. If there were more goats or chickens about, maybe they would come back and he could collect them next time.

During his search, Olias had found only two more bodies. He covered them with blankets and dragged them only as far as necessary for Par to pick them up for removal to the barn.

As they left Greenwarren just before dusk, Olias didn't know they were being observed, but Par did. Passive infrared scans, part of the standard security sweeps, had detected a single observer.

***

He watched from a window over the inn as Olias worked. BUGs were issued to follow him and monitor the observers activity early in the day.

After Par and Olias had moved out, the man came down from the attic rooms of the inn and loaded a pack up with six bottles of Kaleyard, a strong liquor made from apples. He was thin and looked old. His skin was like wrinkled leather, brown and worn from a life spent outdoors in the weather. He had a thinning goatsbeard that looked like it was crudely trimmed with a knife and not recently. But his back was straight and his steps were sure.

Chewing a piece of dried meat, he began to walk south, the opposite direction from Whitehall Abbey, just as it began to snow. He moved at an easy pace, and in less than an hour, he reached a decrepit barn where he retrieved a horse. Like him, the horse was old. He walked next to it, holding the reins. He walked four more hours before he mounted the horse. Two more hours after that, he cautiously entered the outskirts of the ruined village of Whitlock. There was smoke coming from one of the chimneys above the inn. He dismounted and walked his horse the last quarter mile. The smell of burning still permeated this place. More than half the village was gone, and other structures in the village were heavily damaged. He could also get a whiff of the dead bodies that were buried in the ashes of that barn.

He walked his horse around back to the stable yard. There were currently only two horses stabled in the huge stable. He unloaded his horse and carefully brushed her down as she munched oats from a feeder. He also moved the other horses to fresh stalls and fed them as well. After placing horse blankets on each, he picked up his pack and moved inside.

He entered the inn through the back entrance, in the dark. A dim glow was coming from the common room at the far end of the hall. It was still a few hours before dawn. He seemed to intentionally make noise closing the door and with his footsteps as he walked down the hall to the common room. There was a man standing before the fire with one hand on the mantle. There was a large mug in his other hand. They didn't acknowledge each other for several minutes as he unloaded his backpack onto the bar, lining the large bottles up. “I was worried,” the man by the fire said without turning or even looking up from the fire.

“I am sorry, my Lord. I ran into some...trouble.”

This got him to look up. “What sort of trouble?” His eyes darted to the bottles briefly.

He gestured absently to the village about them. “This sort.”

At those words, he uncorked one of the bottles he had brought back and poured a cup full for himself without checking to see if the cup was even clean. “It was still there.” He emptied the cup in one gulp. “I saw it carrying bodies through the village by their ankles.” He poured another drink and downed it.

“I have never seen you drink, Grady, until today. I thought I was your abject lesson and a constant reminder of the folly of drinking.” The man approached the bar and lifted the bottle, sniffed it and poured himself a generous helping.

“Ulric, I think it saw me or heard me or smelled me. It was a huge black beast, like an impossible spider. It had arms that hung from below. It was so black, it was like a hole in the fabric of the world. I think it saw me.” He grabbed the bottle from him and refilled his cup. His hand was shaking, only staring into it as he remained silent.

“Those marks on the ground are in fact footprints then?” Ulric asked.

“It's piling them all in a barn, soldiers and townsfolk. Like a nest. Like food for later after it ripens. And that's not all. It has something small with it.”

“What do you mean? Young?” Ulric asked.

“I didn't see it. I hid in the eaves when I heard it. It came right into the room where I was hiding. I almost pissed myself.” He took another sip.

“Greenwarren?” Ulric asked.

“Gone. No fire, but gone. Ulric, I told you once I'd follow you anywhere, and I still hold to that. I have wanted you to get out of your chair and into the world for more than a decade. But here? By the High Keeper’s beard, what are you thinking?” His panic was barely contained.

“I'll tell you if you promise not to leave.” Ulric was serious. He was looking Grady right in the eyes, less than sober.

“Do I need to promise again? I've already said. If it makes me dead, I've already had more years than most.” Grady promised.

“It's Cassandra.” Ulric paused as the statement settled in, “It's started, just as she said.”

He emptied the cup again.

“The sky fall we saw in early autumn?” Grady asked. Realization was setting in.

“Walk toward the fire and find death's wake. Follow the demon's path to the reluctant throne.” Ulric was quoting.

“You know where this leads if it's true?” Grady asked, knowing the answer.

“Yes.” They both emptied and refilled their cups.

They left for Greenwarren the next day at dawn.

The snow had started to fall again, heavy, straight down snow with massive flakes. But they were ready. They had expensive hooded fur cloaks. Their horses had cold weather coats and even spats on their legs to keep their legs warm and dry and free of ice. They were not in a rush.

They made Greenwarren by midafternoon.

They decided to spend the night at the inn. Damaged as it was, they could still be comfortable. They selected rooms and met in the inn’s common room. Grady already had a fire going and had a pot of stew started. “We will replenish our food stores here. Normally, we would have just purchased here, but they have all gone.”

Ulric was behind the bar placing several bottles on the bar. “Yes. Replenish. Very nice.”

He was studying a label of an old bottle when he said quietly, “I still want to see the bodies.” Grady's answer was very formal in a sad way, wishing he didn't have to see it again, but knowing Ulric had to.

“Yes, my Lord.” He bowed his head slightly.

“We need to see if we can find a decent razor.” He pulled a cork out with his teeth and spat it on the floor. “Had I known we were to be gone this long, I would have packed a proper one.” He was rubbing the quarter inch long hair on his head and the whiskers on his cheeks that were so much shorter than his goatee.

“But who would you get to do it? I'd just cut your throat and have done with it,” Grady grumbled.

It seemed like it was an old pattern with them.

Grady had timed things well. There had been sufficient time to have enough to drink to make it possible to visit that barn again without drinking so much that it would do no good.

Even though it was freezing cold out, they could smell the barn before they could see it. As they approached, they could tell by the hush, the feel, that it was the right place. Rounding the bend, they could see it. The first impression was that it was neat and tidy, a well loved and cared for place. There was a massive pile of logs there - a timber process at work. There was an open pavilion of some kind attached to the barn that was some kind of debarking system. A log was in the roller jig, and half the bark had already been removed. Ulric knew that he was stalling by studying the machine.

He flung open the latch and swung the door out. The smell crashed into them, sweet and full of horror.

Bodies were piled halfway to the ceiling, villagers and soldiers intermixed.

What really struck him was that the bodies were stacked in there with logs. The timbers were piled throughout, at several levels, with the bodies.

“It's a funeral pyre.” He looked at Grady, over his shoulder, a sleeve covering his mouth and nose. Stepping in further, the cloth over his mouth and nose muffling his voice, he said, “I thought you said a beast, a monster, did this.”

Ulric walked into the edge of the pile, the pyre.

“You didn't think to mention this?” Ulric leaned down and picked up a very high-quality crossbow and then two full quivers.

“What does that mean?” Grady asked.

“It means they are coming back. They will light it when they have done doing their mischief.”

Ulric handed Grady the crossbow and quivers, pushing them harder into his chest than he intended.

“We've got to get out of here. We do not want to be here when it gets back. Do we?”

The question broke Grady from his vapor lock. “No, my Lord.”

“So much for my warm bed tonight,” Ulric said.