The Last Whisper of the Gods (6 page)

His mother wanted him to trust her and believe in her, but those things were beyond Sorial at the moment. Her revelation that his past, at least as he knew it, was a series of fabrications, undermined his sense of identity. He itched to see her again; the separation was wearing on him. But some intuition told him the time wasn’t yet right - if he went to her now, she would have nothing more to say and he would leave even deeper in the grasp of bitterness. She wasn’t going anywhere and, at least for another two years, neither was he. There was time, although few things were more difficult to ask of a thirteen-year old than to wait.

The questions remained. What was his mother involved in? Why was it necessary for her to live with a man she didn’t love in a sham of a marriage? How did Warburm fit into this? Had Lamanar sold Sorial for a decade’s wages or was there something more to the deal? And, most importantly, how could knowledge of these things be dangerous? Obviously, there was something of import going on, but he couldn’t imagine what it might be. How could the truth about his past put him in mortal danger? The more he considered these questions, the greater Sorial’s sense of frustration became.

Eventually, lying beside the gently murmuring river, Sorial dozed off. The sun was setting by the time he returned to the inn, but the air was still hot and close.

The heat, by now more oppressive than at any time during the past Summer, continued unabated for another week, causing doomsayers to claim the weather to be a result of the gods opening a blast furnace and giving their sinful subjects a view of what awaited unbelievers after death. Unharvested crops were useless, dried up in the fields. Fortunately, the growing season was over by the time the worst of the heat struck. There would be food scarcities during Winter but not widespread famine, as had happened in the past following disastrous harvests.

For the second consecutive Restday, Sorial went alone to the river. He appreciated the quiet and solitude the place offered. He could clear his mind. After stripping off his clothes, he waded into the water, then floated on his back with his eyes closed, paddling against the current to keep from being carried downstream. After a while, intending to get out, he lowered his feet to the river's bottom and opened his eyes.

Alicia was sitting placidly by the riverside, her legs crossed and a smile splitting her face, looking far more relaxed than on either of the previous occasions he had encountered her. This time, unlike in the market square, he recognized her at once. Her hair was woven into a single braid tossed over one shoulder. She was wearing something dark and frilly that covered her from collarbone to knees but left her legs and feet bare. Had he known the ways of the rich, Sorial would have recognized this as a swimming costume, but in his experience, people swam naked or in their small clothes. Standing directly behind her, implacable as ever, was her faithful guardian. Upon seeing them, Sorial’s surprise was so great that he momentarily lost his footing, went under, and came up coughing water.

“How interesting to meet you here, stableboy,” Alicia remarked when he caught his breath and stopped sputtering. There was laughter in her voice. “Did you come to finally thank me for saving you money on your marketplace purchase last Summer? If so, then I’ll say ‘you’re welcome’, as is proper, although I may add that it took long enough for you to visit. Perhaps you had difficulty finding where I live?”

Speechless, Sorial gazed across the fifteen feet separating them, his mouth gaping.

“Perhaps no one told you, but the public baths are downstream. Living in a stable, you might not know that, but the presence of my father’s guards should have hinted this is private land.”

My father’s guards
… Inwardly, Sorial groaned. Of all the noble’s holdings he might have stumbled upon, he had found hers. At that moment, Sorial was certain the gods still existed and he was the object of one of their jokes.

She turned to Vagrum who, unlike their previous encounters, didn’t appear pleased to see Sorial. “What do you think? Should we go easy on him and warn him or should we tell Daddy and let the guards deal with him?”

“He’s a trespasser, and that’s punishable under the King’s Law. Besides bathing, we don’t know what else he might have been up to.”

Vagrum’s words conjured up images of chains and stocks.

“True. Tell me, stableboy, have you been poaching or thieving?”

“Uh… no, Milady,” stammered Sorial. He inwardly cursed Rexall for having gotten him into this, although he had no one but himself to blame.

“I’m inclined to believe him,” said Alicia, splashing the water with her toes. “He doesn’t appear to be hiding
anything
.”

At that moment, Sorial became aware that the water was perfectly clear and the girl’s gaze was directed beneath the waterline. Her expression was speculative. His face colored.

“Do you think him dangerous, Vagrum?”

“He undoubtedly has a disregard for the law, Milady, but I doubt him to be dangerous. He did protect you from the mice, after all.”

She shot the man a black look, then turned back to Sorial. Her voice remained playful as she addressed him. “You don’t have plans to hurt me, do you? Because if you did, dear Vagrum would tear you to pieces. He’s very devoted. Am I safe around you? Am I safe around
that
?” She pointed between Sorial’s legs, where nervousness and the coolness of the water had produced noticeable shrinkage.

“Of course. I would never...”

“I thought as much. Then I won’t allow your presence to interfere with my swim.” So saying, she unfolded her legs and slipped into the water, the motion so fluid that it barely caused a ripple. Vagrum stepped forward as if to grab her, then thought better of it and lowered his arm. His eyes locked with Sorial’s, the mute warning evident. The boy remained frozen in place as Alicia waded toward him. While the water lapped against Sorial’s chest, it came up to her chin.

She stopped a pace in front of him. Paralyzed, Sorial was torn between looking at her and watching Vagrum, who appeared ready to spring into action at the first sign of an inappropriate move on the boy’s part.

Alicia was smiling and there was laughter in her green eyes. Where the water kissed her golden hair, it was a darker color. She regarded him carefully before saying, “You have nice muscles.” She reached out a hand and lightly touched his chest then his arm. Goosebumps followed the trail of her fingers.

“Milady, I’m not sure it’s wise to touch him,” warned Vagrum.

“He doesn’t mind.” Her eyes locked with his. “Do you, stableboy?”

“Uh… no, I guess not,” replied Sorial, wishing more than anything that he was back in his hot, sweaty, smelly stable. Alicia’s touching was causing other parts of his body to react, and he could tell by her smile that she was aware of precisely the effect she was having on him.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” The question was entirely unexpected.

Sorial swallowed, then told the truth. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” And she was - even prettier than Annie, although not as ripe. Her swimming costume revealed only the barest hints of development. She might act the coquette, but she was still a little girl.

Alicia squealed with delight then moved away from him before splashing him full in the face. “For that compliment, I’ll let you go without telling the guards,” she announced.

“It’s your choice, Milady,” said Vagrum. Sorial thought the bodyguard didn’t agree with the decision.

“So tell me, stableboy, why are you here?”

“Sorial.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Sorial.”

“I don’t care what your name is. I’m the daughter of a duke and you’re a serf. I’ll call you what I want to.”

“Sorry, Milady,” murmured Sorial, still rooted to the spot where he had stood since first spying Alicia.

She suddenly disappeared under the water, only to reappear moments later, smiling and giggling and tossing her head from side to side to shake the water from her hair, her braid whipping like a living thing.

“When you came, you weren’t looking for me, were you? Did you know I lived here?” asked Alicia.

“No. My friend Rexall brung me here a few weeks ago. He ‘found’ this spot in his wanderings.”

Alicia pouted at his response, although Sorial couldn’t tell whether her disappointment was genuine. “Why are you here, then? Public baths not good enough? Not enough pretty girls there? I’m sure most of them are wearing less than I am.”

“The public baths are crowded and dirty. It’s cleaner and quieter here.”

“Obviously, since my father doesn’t allow random vagabonds to swim in his part of the river. Otherwise, it would be crowded and dirty here as well. But I thought dirt didn’t bother you.”

“It doesn’t, but I like being cleaner after swimming than before.”

She pondered that for a moment. “You look nice cleaner. You should try bathing more often.”

Turning to her guardian, she called, “Vagrum, throw him his clothes so he can put them on in the water. I think he might be shy about climbing out to get them.” To Sorial, she added, “Not that I haven’t already seen
everything
.”

Shortly thereafter, a dripping Sorial was standing near Vagrum on the bank while Alicia continued to drift in the water. “You can go.” With that curt dismissal, she seemed to lose all interest in him.

As Sorial turned to flee, Vagrum had a word of advice. “You shouldn’t come back, with or without your friend. Not everyone you might encounter would be as forgiving as Lady Alicia. You’re fortunate she’s got a soft spot for you. Anyone else’d be hauled in front of the Duke for trial. I’ll honor her wishes but if’n it was up to me, there’d be a reckoning for this. I’ve broken more than a few laws in my time, so I’m sympathetic but, without punishment, ain’t nothing to prevent this from happening again.”

That was enough to convince Sorial that, no matter how much Rexall prompted him in the future, his days swimming in the river were over.

As he retreated toward the city, Alicia again took notice of him again. Her laughing voice pursued him: “See you soon, stableboy!”

For the second time in less than a week, Sorial was staring into those green eyes. This time, however, they weren’t dancing. As on the occasion of their first meeting, Alicia’s father left her and Vagrum waiting in the stable while he attended the latest of Warburm’s mysterious closed-door sessions. The attendance for these was so varied that they were beginning to excite speculation among the innkeeper’s employees, but no one knew what they really meant. The most frequent topic of conjecture - that it was a conspiracy against the Crown - was dulled by the participation of some of the king’s most loyal supporters, including Alicia’s father, Duke Carannan.

Alicia was less inappropriately attired to spend time in a stable than on her previous visit. Instead of a gown, she was dressed in light colored skirts that ended just above the knees and a plain, loose-fitting top. A light green ribbon braided in her golden hair matched the color of her eyes. Her face was twisted into an expression of profound disgust. For a moment, Sorial thought it was his appearance that offended her - stripped to the waist, he wasn’t a picture of decorum. Straw and dirt clung to his sweat-dampened torso like a second skin. But Alicia’s sense of sight wasn’t under assault. With a strangled cry, she fled through the door to the inn’s courtyard. The sound of retching followed.

Vagrum’s tone was neutral. “It smells ranker in here than the privy in a brothel. Had to clean one of those once and this is worse.”

Sorial nodded. The big man wasn’t exaggerating. Everyone mentioned it but there was little Sorial could do beyond what he was already doing. It wasn’t enough, he knew. Visnisk’s whore refused to set foot in the place and more than one rider handed over their reins while still outside.

“Something died,” noted Vagrum.

“Mice. Or rats. No more’n usual but the heat rots ’em quicker and makes the smell worse.”

Her face as pale as the grave, Alicia re-appeared at the door but didn’t cross the threshold. “I’ll wait for my father outside.”

“You will not.” Vagrum’s tone was stern, brooking no refusal. Admittedly, Sorial hadn’t spent a lot of time in the girl’s company, but this is the first time he could recall when Vagrum didn’t defer to her or address her as “Milady.”

Alicia was taken aback.

“Your father left you here because he wanted you out of sight. If he intended for you to wait in the courtyard, he’d have left you in the courtyard. You can stay close to the door, but you’ll wait in the stable.”

“If I stay in here, I’m going to be sick again.”

“Then you can step outside to throw up.”

Alicia scowled but didn’t say anything else. After staring moodily at Vagrum for a few moments, she turned an equally black look in Sorial’s direction, as if blaming him for her current state of discomfort. He pointedly avoided meeting her eyes and returned to his work with a pitchfork.

Vagrum noticed that Carannan’s and Alicia’s mounts were the only ones occupying stalls. “Is business down?”

“Fewer late-Harvest merchants. With the end of the season crops withered, ain’t much buying or selling. Warburm’s trade ain’t down, though. Fewer overnighters but the common room is always full. People will always need to drink, he says, and the worse things get, the more they drink.”

Vagrum grunted his agreement. “It’s like that the world over.”

“Where are the mice?” asked Alicia. Sorial turned back to her and noticed she was scanning the floor.

“Some are dead - you can smell ’em - and others are burrowed under the straw where it’s cooler. They come out at night.”

“Sometimes, I think it might’ve been better being born a mouse,” mused Vagrum, sounding almost philosophical. “Eating, drinking, shitting, fucking all day and night. Wouldn’t be a bad life, even if it was a short one.”

“That’s all you do, anyway,” retorted Alicia.

Vagrum chuckled. He asked Sorial, “In this heat, does the innkeeper let you sleep indoors?”

“No. I never asked about it. Except in the cellar, it’s hot all over. The inn is cleaner but noisier. I’m used to sleeping here.”

“But the smell…” interjected Alicia.

“The whole city stinks. Every privy pit smells ten times worse. Out here, it’s shit and dead mice. Inside, it’s stale ale, vomit, piss, and sweat. Once you’re asleep, you don’t notice.” Admittedly, though,
getting to
sleep could be a problem. Tossing and turning had become commonplace of late.

“Something just moved,” squeaked Alicia, backing away from where she had been standing.

“Under the straw, there’s a nest with a mother and her new litter.” Sorial walked over and kicked away the covering, revealing a brown mouse and a half-dozen pink, hairless babies. Alicia initially took another step backward, then inched forward for a closer look.

“They’re ugly,” she pronounced.

Sorial covered them back up. “All babies are ugly.”

“Not people,” said Alicia.

“Including people. It just ain’t polite to say so. But human babies are as ugly as those mice.”

“True. Even you, Milady.” Vagrum was more visibly relaxed than on his previous visit.

Sorial returned to work. He had just finished feeding and watering the horse and pony when Alicia, who was lingering near the wide entranceway, observed, “There’s a storm coming.”

Vagrum and Sorial followed her gaze. The sky to the north was thick with clouds as black as pitch. Even at this distance, their underbelly was tickled by frequent flashes of lightning. Sorial thought he could detect the faint echoes of thunder. It had been weeks since Vantok had seen anything but blue skies and clear nights.

“At least we’ll get some rain. Maybe it will break the heat,” said Sorial.

“Not likely. It looks like a dry storm.” Vagrum frowned. “Haven’t seen one of those in years - maybe not since afore you was born. Bad things, they are. Wind and lightning and hail, but no rain. The lightning starts fires, the winds whip them up, and there ain’t no rain to put them out. City’s bone dry as it is. We’re in for a bad time.”

“What’s the point of a storm without rain?” asked Alicia. “I’d love to run naked through a downpour.”

Sorial caught himself thinking that was something he wouldn’t mind seeing.

“And you, stableboy, could use a bath - one that doesn’t involve trespassing on someone else’s property.”

“Don’t see many of these.” Vagrum stared at the slowly advancing mass of impenetrable darkness. When the clouds arrived, they would blot out the sun and turn day into night. “It’s an ill wind that blows one here at this time. I wonder what we did to anger the gods.”

“Some say the gods are no more, that we have to look after ourselves.”

Vagrum grunted in response. “How sturdy is that roof?” he asked, gazing dubiously at the rafters.

“I thought you said there wouldn’t be any rain?”

Vagrum shrugged. “Ain’t rain I’m worried ’bout. I’m sure this stable’s been rained on thousands of times. No, it’s the hail.”

“What’s hail?” asked Sorial.

Alicia gaped at him, as if he had said something incomprehensibly ignorant.

Vagrum ignored her expression. “Ice balls. Strange as it may seem, hail usually happens when it’s hot. Not much hail in this part of the world, but I’ve seen some bigger’n a man’s balls. If the roof’s rotted, they’ll punch holes in it and we’ll be ducking for our lives.”

“It should hold.” Sorial was dubious about the claim that there could be a storm of ice balls with the furnace-like temperatures outside. He was more concerned about lightning hitting the stable and starting a fire. The place was a tinderbox.

The storm’s approach was slow but inexorable. By the time the clouds had filled half the sky, people outside began taking notice and scurried to find a safe port until it blew over. The rumbling of thunder was audible over the everyday din.

“Would you like to sit down?” asked Sorial of Alicia, gesturing toward one of the many bales of hay.

She took a step forward, but a look of consternation crossed her face. “I don’t think so.” He could tell by the droop of her shoulders that she was tired. The daughters of dukes apparently weren't accustomed to spending long hours standing. Taking pity on her, he located his discarded tunic and laid it atop a hay bale, figuring she might be more willing to sit on it, even though it was just as filthy as the straw it covered.

Without a word, she sat. Out of her line of sight, Vagrum nodded approvingly.

Not much was said as the three watched the advancing clouds. When they passed in front of the sun, a false dusk descended. Since it was afternoon, none of the street lanterns were lit, making it seem darker than it actually was. Of course, the blackness wasn’t absolute, broken as it was at frequent intervals by flashes of lightning. Most of the bright white branches flickered from cloud to cloud, brightening the canopy above, but there were occasional downward bolts punctuated by loud blasts of thunder.

“The wind is hot, but it still feels good.” Alicia undid the restraints on her hair and let it swing free so the breeze could catch it.

Sorial was forced to agree. There was nothing refreshing in the arid wind, but any stirring of the air was welcome after the stagnant oppressiveness of recent days.

With a crack of thunder so loud that it shook the stable’s rafters and caused all three of them to start, the hail began. At first, the chunks of ice were like pebbles, but they soon doubled and tripled in size. The noise on the roof was deafening and, in the streets, citizens were yelping in pain and fear as they dashed for cover. The lightning flashes came so frequently that the pulsating illumination was continual and the thunder was loud enough to compete with the cacophony of hailstones. Conversation was impossible.

Vagrum endured the storm with an expression of seeming stoic indifference. Alicia also exuded a calm aura. Her eyes were closed, her head was tilted back, and her lips were slightly parted. She appeared to be enjoying the storm’s rage and wasn’t the least frightened by it. Sorial wished he could say the same for himself. At least the horse and pony shared his terror.

The hail stopped almost as suddenly as it had started, but it took the thunder and lightning longer to subside, and still more time for the black clouds to peel back and the midday sunshine to return. As Vagrum had predicted, there was no rain, but the ground was littered with melting ice, almost as if it was the middle of winter. When the hail succumbed to the heat, it would provide, however briefly, desperately needed moisture for a parched earth. Sorial could almost feel the ground’s relief.

“That was fun.” Alicia was smiling. Her unbound hair, tousled by the wind, made her look untamed - a far more wild girl than the one who had arrived at the stable earlier in the day.

“We have different ideas of fun,” muttered Sorial, heading over to the stalls to check on the animals.

“Don’t tell me it didn’t excite you?” demanded Alicia, affronted by his lack of enthusiasm.

“I could go the rest of my life without being ‘excited’ like that again.”

Vagrum, who had momentarily stepped outside, announced, “Judging by the smoke, there are fires, but not as many as I feared. We’re lucky most of the lightning remained in the heavens rather than crashing to the ground. There was enough power in that storm to reduce Vantok to a pile of charred embers.”

“A storm like that needs rain,” said Alicia. “Lots and lots of rain. Rain pouring down. That would have made it better than anything else.”

Sorial gazed at her strangely. “Did you hit your head when I wasn’t looking?” He was having trouble understanding how she could be rhapsodizing about something that could have killed them. Even Vagrum appeared nonplused by her reaction.

“Watch your tongue, stableboy!” she snapped, her imperious tone returning. “Of course, I wouldn’t expect someone who lives in a place like this to have respect for the majesty of the gods when it’s on display like this.”

“Alicia, that’s enough,” said a baritone from the entrance to the stable. The duke had returned. “This boy didn’t ask to be born into poverty and raised here. We’re all where we are by the grace of the gods, and you would do well to remember that. At their whim, your positions could have been reversed, with you toiling away in the inn’s kitchens and him in our house. I thought I taught you better than to look down on those whose circumstances are less fortunate than your own.”

Alicia’s fair skin reddened noticeably at the rebuke. She lowered her head and murmured, “Sorry, Father.”

“Apologize to the boy, not me.”

“Sorry, stableboy.” As she raised her eyes to look into his, Sorial noted that their flash was anything but apologetic.

Turning to Vagrum, the duke said, “We were done a little while ago but decided to wait out the storm in the inn. Any problems out here?”

“None, sir. I’d say there was something unnatural about the storm, though.”

“You’re not alone in that opinion.” He tossed Sorial a small pouch of brass studs. “Thank you for helping keep my daughter safe during the foul weather.” Glancing at the tunic Sorial placed on the hay bale, he added, “And for providing her whatever meager comforts this place has to offer.”

Sorial mumbled his thanks then, without another word, retrieved the Duke’s steed and Alicia’s pony from the stalls. In the wake of the storm, the animals were skittish, but their owners were able to calm them with soothing words. Soon, the three were gone and Sorial was alone in the strangely silent stable. Outside, activity was picking up again but many were afraid to emerge into the sunlight from wherever they had holed up. The crust of hailstones covering the ground was nearly gone. Subjected to the unrelenting heat from the sun, they couldn’t sustain long.