Still Falling: Book 1: Solstice 31 Saga (29 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Ulric’s Tale

“The Emergency Module clearly decided that Grady and Ulric were to be assets. Ash was on standby to deal with them.”

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

<<<>>>

Bathed and dressed in fresh tunics, Grady and Ulric were led to the gatehouse by Olias. The table was already set and covered with steaming crocks and baskets.

They didn't seem to notice that Po sat at the table next to Olias, immediately to Barcus’s left.

They began dishing up tenderloin medallions in gravy with onions and bacon, small potatoes and buttered peas. The bread was still warm from the oven and light as could be.

“The snow is up to my knees already,” Olias said through a mouthful of potatoes. Po glared at him.

“That bath is wonderful,” said Grady. “I can't remember the last civilized bath I took.”

“Your clothes should be dry by morning. I need to mend a few of them,” Po said.

Looking up, Ulric seemed to notice her for the first time. Barcus was wondering if he remembered that she was the one that held the AR pointed at his face. He stopped wondering when he spoke.

Ulric pointed his finger at Po and held it there for a long moment before speaking.

“You shot me in the neck!” Ulric mock whined, his hand going to the scab on the side of his throat.

“Be glad it was not somewhere more important,” Grady said as he spooned peas into his mouth.

Olias laughed.

Soon they were all laughing.

He'd brag about that neck wound for the rest of his life.

***

Dinner had continued with talk about the wonderful meal, the amazing wine, and the snow. It was still falling straight down deeper and deeper.

Tonight, Ulric was only drinking wine, the fine Hermitage from within the Redoubt below. Barcus had moved to tea. The conversation had lulled when they found that Po, Olias, and Grady had busied themselves elsewhere. They moved to the overstuffed chairs.

“How long have you been here?” Barcus asked.

“It's been almost thirty-two years,” he replied, staring into the fire.

“What happened?” Barcus prompted him, as he fell silent again.

“I was on route back to home from a tour in the outer colonies. I had secured a bay in an FTL Midas class ship for my Renalo Yacht. It was called The Carlisle. It was no frills passage. I had to stay on my own ship the whole time, basically. That saved my life, really. It was just as well. The thing was an old converted Cobalt Destroyer from the war. Never saw a ship that was less comfortable. It was big, though.” He refilled his glass from another full bottle Po had left on the small table before her quiet exit.

“I have no idea why the ship was diverted here. But as soon as it managed orbit, it was destroyed. I was injured in the initial attack. I don't remember anything. Four of the six crew members were killed outright. Somehow the Communications Tech and the Chief Engineer managed to get it to the ground. We found a good place to hide and stayed with the ship for months, trying to repair it. We eventually ran out of water, of all things.”

“What happened to the others?”

“Wujcik, my Chief Engineer, cut his hand while refitting the tractor to use as ground transport. It seemed like nothing at first. He died of an infection before we could find help.” He paused, deep in memories.

“Cassandra, the Comms Officer and I took the tractor as far as we could and then walked. We were traveling along the coast for weeks before we found a fishing village.”

“This is the Cassandra you mentioned last night?” Barcus asked.

“Yes. She died last spring,” Ulric said soberly.

“How did you become a Keeper?”

“When we got to the fishing village, we could not understand the common tongue. The only one that knew even half of what we were saying was the old village herbwife. She assumed I was a Keeper right then, because of the high speech. I never knew enough to correct her.”

“I had no idea what to do. With Dave Wujcik dead, all hope of getting the ship spaceworthy was lost. Even if I could fly it, the hull was breached in so many places.”

“We were there for two years before an itinerant Keeper visited the village by boat. We left with him. By then we knew common tongue, knew the culture to some extent. The people in the village didn't want us to go. I always thought we'd go back one day, but never did.” He fell silent again.

“Then what happened?” Barcus asked.

“I was assigned a small parish in the southeast. It wasn't on the coast, but farther inland,” Ulric recounted. “Keepers have local and regional conclaves annually. I went and no one questioned me. I was obviously a Keeper. I could read and I could speak the high tongue and I could drink more than bloody pirates. Of course, I was a Keeper.

“We survived. Slowly we resigned ourselves to never knowing what happened. I became an itinerant Keeper for many years, to travel and try to find out. But I had stopped caring if Cassandra was not with me. That's when I first met Grady, traveling.”

“We crossed paths many times, the following five years. When I knew I was never going to be more than a Lesser Keeper, I found a parish in the north where it wasn't so damn hot, and I settled down. The farther north you get, the slacker they are about strictures, which is good because they made excellent bourbon there. Grady would visit every year. We'd go on parish walk-about with him. Cassandra was always restless.”

“Then I gave up,” Ulric confessed. “Cassandra left and wandered alone or with Grady for years. She came back about this time last year. She knew things, had seen things, she was different. She said there was a great task to be done and we had to go. We left the morning after your ship was destroyed. She cried as we watched it burning into the atmosphere.”

There was a long pause.

“It was difficult to travel. It wasn't safe. She knew the mercenaries were rampaging. We didn't know she was ill, either,” Ulric said.

“How did you come here?” Barcus asked.

Before Ulric could answer, he heard a whisper right next to his ear. “Do not mention me, Chris. Or I will make you tell him what you are leaving out.”

He swallowed hard.

“Cassandra pointed the way, but not the reason.” Ulric fell silent.

Po came in just then and withdrew to the room in the back.

“They'll kill her you know,” Ulric stated it quietly. “The anvil. I have seen it so many times, for less.”

“Do you know she would be killed even for wearing a belt? Did you know that?” Ulric asked. “They are not allowed even pockets on an apron. But to wear a belt with a Plate pouch, she'd be tortured to death slowly.”

“She knows,” Barcus said to the fire.

“I know she knows. It's you that are risking her life. Any visitor but us would have required her death, might have taken her, or killed her outright, without a word. That’s allowed, you know.

“Does she have a Plate in there?”

“Yes.”

“For the love of the Maker. We'd ALL be killed for that! For just allowing it!” Ulric said.

“Olias has one as well.”

Ulric could not even reply to that. He drained his glass, poured another one and drained that one as well.

“You will have one as well if you are to be the Keeper of Whitehall,” Barcus stated, smiling.

***

The next morning, Em had finished her status reports and added, “Grady is in the garage. I believe he knows that Par uses it. He has also been looking at the completed wall repairs and rubble removal. He has been trying to track Ash and Par. He is a brave one.”

“I guess we will need to introduce them,” Barcus said. “Where is everyone now?”

A new tactical map opened in his HUD and showed everyone’s location.

“Ash is in the Redoubt. Par is with Olias to collect some more goats and chickens before they die from lack of care. Po is working in the storeroom, Ulric is sleeping. Grady has been moving supplies to the cache he is making here at the west end of the vineyard.” A window opened showing Grady walking through the deep snow with two large bags of supplies over his shoulders.

Barcus watched him enter a tiny, windowless hut. The door opened easily on newly oiled hinges. There were only a cot and a table in there, and both were already piled high with gear and supplies. He left the door open for light.

Barcus closed the window. “Em, he will either stay or go. It's up to him.”

***

Grady took his time as he unloaded the bags onto the table and then subsequently packed the items into saddlebags, backpacks, and larger canvas bags. Scanning the room one last time, he backed out and closed the door.

Turning, he almost walked directly into Ash.

Grady froze. Then he saw the ax in the hand of the faceless monster.

Ash spoke quietly. “You may want to add this to your gear and supplies.” Ash handed Grady the ax, handle first. “It can be very useful in many ways.”

Grady took it automatically. Ash turned away to leave and paused.

“Let me know if you require anything else specific. I have an inventory of Whitehall and the surrounding region.”

“Thank…thank you...” Grady stammered.

“My name is Ash.”

“Thank you, Ash,” He said.

“He won't harm you, you know. Even if you lie to him,” Ash said.

“Are we not prisoners then?” Grady asked.

“No. You may leave whenever you want,” Ash replied.

“And Ulric?” Grady asked.

Ash turned back toward Grady. Grady was sure it had not intended the movement to be intimidating.

“He was meant to be here. He knows it. Thank you for getting him here safely.”

As Ash walked away, the wind rose and began to blow the snow into drifts.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

They Were Under the Bridge

“The Emergency Module was spreading itself thin. It was making assumptions.”

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

<<<>>>

Ulric woke with a start.

He had no idea what had woken him so violently. He could swear someone had slammed his door closed.

Two candles on the table were still burning, and the coals of the fire still glowed.

The room was empty.

He got out of bed, dragging a quilt for his shoulders, and added more wood to the fire, when he heard the music.

It was outside.

After the first week, Barcus convinced him to move to a more comfortable spot. His new rooms, the Keeper’s suite, opened onto a balcony that overlooked what used to be the Abbot’s garden. He had gone out there yesterday. It was all overgrown chaos now, with no sense at all how it used to be.

But he heard the music. He had to go.

When he opened the door, dappled sunlight fell on the balcony through the shade of summer leaves dancing in a breeze. He walked out and saw the garden was renewed. Flagstone paving stones meandered through flowering shrubs that filled and balanced the garden around the three obelisks placed there.

Benches were placed in the perfect spots for sun or shade, depending on the visitor’s pleasure. Scanning along one path to a large patio, he saw a table and chairs overturned. Then people, lying in pools of blood, with their throats torn out.

He began backing back into the room when the music stopped, mid note.

That is when he saw her, out of the corner of his eye. She was standing on the balcony, her bloody, oversized mouth filled with a thousand needle-like teeth.

When his head snapped over to look at her, she wasn't there.

Looking back at the garden, it was no longer summer. Moonlight shone on snow, making it all bright.

He was shivering.

When he saw her standing out there in the snow, on the spot where the toppled table had been, she said, “When they come, you will be the Keeper.”

“When who comes?” Ulric whispered.

“Do not fail me,” she said.

“Who is coming, please, tell me?” he begged.

He saw her smile impossibly wide. Bloody needles for teeth.

He woke with a start in bed.

There was music in the distance.

***

Barcus was unable to sleep that night. He got out of bed without waking Po and got dressed in the loft. After pulling his boots and a fur cloak on, he went up the spiral stairs to the ramparts on the wall.

The wind had blown all the snow off the top of the wall. The moon was bright on the deep snow. He began to walk clockwise on the top of the wall. He saw lights in Olias’s and Ulric's rooms, as well as the gatehouse. The smell of wood smoke was in the air as it rose from chimneys concealed in the construction of the battlements.

He looked down into the courtyards and overgrown gardens. Entering the north tower, he paused to look out over the Abbey.

That is when he heard a voice in the quiet. He could not make out the words. He scanned The Abbey and saw Ulric on his balcony. Faintly he heard, “...please, tell me.”

“Em, is Ulric all right?” Barcus said.

“Yes. I think he is going to take his nightly piss off the balcony. He doesn't like to empty his own chamber pot,” Em said.

“Who is he talking to?” Barcus asked.

He was gone from the balcony now.

“He is back in bed. No one else is there. He has been alone since retiring.” Em brought a window BUG view up for Barcus. “He doesn't sleep very well.”

“Where is Grady?” he asked.

“He is in his room, above the stables. Asleep. I will alert you if anything unusual happens, Barcus.” There was a tone in Em's voice that almost sounded like she was annoyed with his queries.

“I'm sorry Em, I just can't sleep tonight. I have the oddest feeling. There is so much to do,” he said as he left the east end of the tower and began his walk around.

The wall repairs had gone well. Only the battlements remained to be replaced. He stepped to the edge to see that the rubble had been mostly removed. Not completely, but like the remaining stonework, it could wait.

As he stood in the center of the opening, the feeling of unease came upon him again.

The sky was so clear tonight. Barcus wondered if they had names for these constellations. The moon was high and so bright, he could read if he wanted too.

Barcus had no idea he was being watched.

***

Ulric woke with a start. Again.

“Please, no more. I will do as you ask,” he whispered.

“How did you come to pick the name Ulric? A bit of hubris there, don't you think?” There was a shadow in the corner, an outline in black. There was a glint of candlelight reflected off the steel of the piling where her leg should be.

“It was from the old herbwife, Rayne. She called me that. I never knew why. Christopher made them look at me like I had a shrunken head, and ‘Black’ is a word on common tongue that means thick black hair.” He sat up. More comfortable the less he resisted the ghost.

“An Ulric is a kind of animal on this planet,” the ghost informed him. “It is a powerful, wolf-like creature. Telis Raptors flee at the scent of them. Be glad there are none here. But know that when they come before you, part of their mind will remember this.”

“Who are they?” Ulric asked.

“They were sent by Ronan. Their task has been undone, and they seek to know why.” The shadow paused, “You will tell them how, but not why.”

“I don't understand any of this. Ronan? I might as well jump from the tower now and save myself a mountain of pain and fear. Ronan? He is as ruthless as the High Keeper. Maybe more, because he is smarter.” He held his face in his hands because he sensed her moving in the darkness.

“Grady will find them today. He will bring them to you. You will hold together or I will be...displeased.” Her voice was growing faint.

“What is their task? What do I do?” he whispered.

Silence had returned to the night. The deep hush of winter wilderness in the snow.

***

“Barcus, wake up!” It was Em.

“Status!” He was instantly fully awake. He was alone in bed. The dawn was not quite here yet.

“Intruders. I don't know how, but they got past my sensors.” He flew out of bed. Windows were opening in his HUD as he was changing quickly into is day clothes. The center image was Grady squatting on his heels, somewhere dark, holding an ax in a very menacing way as he silently gazed at something in the shadows. The BUGs shifted to night vision as Barcus noticed on the tactical map that Grady was under the north bridge, just outside the gate.

“Window 5 shows two Trackers asleep beneath two large white fur cloaks, probably sheep skins, perfect winter camouflage, warm and white.”

“What is Grady doing?” Barcus asked.

“He appears to be waiting for them to wake up,” Em stated flatly.

As he was tightening his belt and shifting his holster to be concealed beneath the tabard, Po entered with a pot of tea.

“Em said you were up and could use some tea,” Po said.

He took the tray from her and quickly poured a mug, as all the windows closed in his HUD except one that showed Grady and the sleeping intruders in one view.

“We have visitors. I have no idea who they are yet.” He took a gulp of tea that was too hot. “Get the AR and your warm cloak. I want you on the south tower with your Plate.”

Without a word, Po dragged the case from under the bed and opened it. She had spent many hours practicing with the rifle but had never had to really use it.

First, she took a canvas bag out and put her head and one arm through so the wide strap went diagonally across her chest. It was obvious that the bag held six additional magazines. She pulled out the AR and checked the safety and the chambered round indicator. She took a single point sling from a peg and put it over her head on the opposite side and attached the AR. It hung down in front of her has she put on her cloak.

All this had taken about ten seconds before she paused, pistol grip in hand, index finger extended, tactical light test complete. She looked up. “Ready.”

He nodded, and she was gone up the spiral stairs in a flash. He watched her go, two steps at a time, wondering how it was she was so proficient so fast. No time for that now.

Just then, there was movement and sound in the window image. They were stirring beneath furs. A hand sought the edge of the fur and drew it down, revealing a yawning face of a woman with her hair loose.

The yawn turned into a stretch, revealing a bare arm, and that is when she saw Grady. He said nothing.

She stiffened with a start but didn't cry out. Her sleeping companion was smart enough to say nothing, but also came out to look around.

They all locked eyes for a full minute.

Grady spoke first.

“Fools. Do you have any idea how lucky you are that I was the one to discover you?” Grady said in a tone that was calm, precise and menacing at the same time. Never mentioning the ax he held. “Do you have any idea what walks these woods? Did you ever wonder why we took up residence in this fortress?”

They lay there, frozen, their eyes darting between Grady's eyes and his ax. When he abruptly stood in one smooth motion, they startled into action, crab walking backward, dragging the furs with them.

“No night watch? Idiots. Get dressed, before I change my mind.” Grady shouldered the ax and walked out from under the bridge, up the embankment and waited above.

There was no talking as the couple stood and dressed. She had been naked, and he was wearing a tunic style shirt and no pants. She dressed faster with an under-dress and an over-dress. She pulled socks and boots on then quickly braided her long hair as the man put on his belt with fumbling difficulty. She had her pack and cloak on and while she was waiting, Barcus saw her check boot knives.

Barcus watched them decide to leave their gear there under the bridge.

Another window opened, showing Po on the top of the tower as she reached down and grabbed a handful of skirts, pulled them forward and tucked them in her belt in the front. It suddenly looked like pants.

Then he saw her face.

Fierce did not begin to describe it. The crease between her eyebrows was no longer a worry indicator. It was the face of a predator.

She deployed the bipod just as he had taught her and looked through the scope to the east.

“Em, give me the AR POV,” Barcus said.

Another window opened showing cross-hairs on the magnified face of a woman. She was weather-worn from a life in the sun but still beautiful. Her hair was light from the sun but also was scattered with gray. Out loud, Po said in a low voice, “Barcus, I have met these people before. They are Trackers for a Keeper named Ronan. Don't kill them. Not yet.” Her scope drifted to Grady. “Grady looks like he will take their heads if they do anything.”

How did she know I could hear her? Barcus thought.

Grady was angry. Barcus didn't know the man, but there was no mistaking it.

The scope moved to the man. He was younger than the woman, Barcus could now see. He was more nervous than she was.

“Po, hold your fire.” His words quietly came from her Plate.

Barcus sat on the bench with the tray and extra mugs, sipping his still steaming tea. They were rounding the curvature of the wall.

“
Olias is waiting just inside the gate doors. If you call to him, he will hear you,”
Em reported. A tactical map displayed the location of everyone, even Par and Ash.

Ash had quietly joined Po on the top of the south tower. Par had a line of sight from a long distance.

They crossed the bridge and, when close enough, Barcus said, “Good morning, Grady. Who have we here?” Barcus stood.

The woman paused a pace behind the man as he lowered to one knee and lowered his head. She went to both knees and placed her forehead on the back of her hands as they rested on top of one another directly on the ground. He felt anger instantly at the gesture.

Suddenly, Po's whispering voice was in his ear. “Let her. It's all she knows.” Po knew him better than she expected. “I am watching on the Plate now. I'd have to hang over the wall to cover you now.”

The man’s head was bowed. Grady stood directly behind them with ax at ready as he spoke. “Good morning, Barcus.”

Barcus was glad he didn't say, Keeper Barcus.

“I was out checking my trap lines this morning and encountered these travelers near the north gate and brought them straight around. I was going to let them warm up in the tack room until you were up and about.”

“Excellent idea,” Barcus said.

Po whispered, “Say this: Well met, travelers. Please enter and enjoy your oaths.“