Benlunar - Episode 19
Lilian sees an army.
The Roads of Alicium run through it like veins
From small paths down mountains to city built lanes
They’ll guide you home or take you away
Or make you visit village that begs you to stay
Up through the pass, down through the grass
Stick to your map, veer not from the path
Or perhaps take an unfamiliar bend
After all, the aim of the song is the tune not the end
As Lilian Lausanne, Cromwell Attorcop and Fritha the Feinhound continued to travel over the next few days, signs of civilisation began to increase. Small roadside taverns and even little villages would appear more and more as they got closer to the country’s capital. It was during an overnight stay in one such village that they met Mr Hayes and his family. The Hayes’ were marrow farmers from an area called Crookleford. It took Lilian a few conversations to get the name right as Mr Hayes’ accent was as thick and heavy as country butter.
“We’re just on our way to Freedos to sell the harvest then we’re heading back. Unless something keeps us there.” Mr Hayes set his heavy mug of beer down on the table with a clunk. Some of it sloshed over the brim and splashed the stained wood. Mrs Hayes tutted as she drew her hand back from getting wet.
“We’ll be glad of the company. The roads have been kind to us so far but bigger groups are always safer.” Mr Attorcop nodded slowly in agreement. Lilian was only half paying attention. She was more interested in the musician who was tuning her fiddle near the Inn’s fireplace, it seemed as though she was about to play something and Lilian hadn’t heard music in many weeks. She was sitting opposite a girl called Anna, the Hayes’ daughter. Anna was a little older than Lilian, possibly 16 or 17. She had straight black hair and a round, pretty face. Her two front teeth were large and visible whenever she smiled. Which was all the time. Currently she was smiling at Fritha who was snoozing under the table. Lilian had managed to train her to wear a shaggy brown coat that made her look like a large brown dog to the untrained eye. As long as they kept her low and calm she could mingle in crowds without too much fuss.
“What kind of dog is she?” asked Anna, snapping Lilian out of her daydream.
“Hm? Oh… I’m not sure. My… family friend breeds them in the mountains. They’re trained to rescue people from the snow.” Everyone had heard stories of such dogs and Lilian knew that a little familiarity wouldn’t hurt when describing Fritha to strangers. She had used the line on a traveller after his pack donkey had been startled by Fritha’s size. It seemed to comfort people as snow dogs were famously good natured. Anna nodded her head.
“Is it true they have little barrels round their necks with spirits in em?” Lilian smiled.
“Sometimes, yes.” The two girls fell silent as the fiddler started her first song. Lilian watched and listened and wondered if she should say something to fill the growing silence. She had never really been close friends with any girls. She found other girls irritating a lot of the time. Anna seemed nice though.
“Do you have a dog on the farm?” Asked Lilian. Anna shook her head.
“No. We got cats though, cos of the mice and rats. I like cats.”
“Me too.” Said Lilian, and she felt a pang in her stomach as she remembered her neighbour’s cat, Tuffson, a beautiful grey creature who was extremely friendly, but about as much good at catching mice as a particularly furry cushion.
“How comes your heading to Freedos?” Asked Anna as she stroked Fritha’s ears.
“My uncle works there, I’m going with him to help.” Days on the road had given Mr Attorcop and Lilian time to work on their backstory. They had also come up with a plan as to what do if they were separated, attacked by bandits or even kidnapped. Most plans involved them being their secret alter egos. Lilian hadn’t known why there was so much need for secrecy, but then she remembered their encounter with Kissandra the assassin in Benlunar, and decided that secret identities, at least for the time being, were probably a good idea.
“What about you?” Lilian asked quickly so as to avoid further questions about her work in Freedos.
“What do you mean?” Asked Anna.
“Well do you sell the harvest in a market? Or to shops? I’ve never been to Freedos.” Anna understood.
“Oh no, I don’t really help much with the selling. We’re quite well known in Checkered square market so the produce sells itself really. I like to come along and see the city though.” Her eyes darted to her parents, making sure they were deep in conversation before she lowered her voice and leant forward, conspiratorially.
“But this time, Da said I had to come along and help and that I was sure to dress nice.” Lilian was curious.
“Why?”
“Well, I think it’s cos he’s looking for me to get married.” A string on the musician’s fiddle snapped and Lilian’s mouth dropped open. She almost shouted, “MARRI…” But Anna shushed her by closing her hand over Lilian’s mouth. Anna giggled.
“It’s only a guess. I’m of age after all.”
“Yes but…” Lilian lowered her voice. “Do you want to get married?” Anna shrugged.
“I suppose. Would be nice to meet a noble man and be whisked off my feet like in the stories. A decent dowry would really help the farm and Lizzie Wickle, a girl from my village, says I could marry rich on account as I’m quite pretty.” Lilian didn’t know what to say. Anna can’t have been much older than her and she had never even considered getting married, let alone make a detailed plan about it. Anna seemed excited though so Lilian didn’t press her with questions, not wanting to sew seeds of doubt. The adults seemed to have come to an agreement as the fiddler struck up another tune. Within less than an hour the entire inn was singing old travel songs. Mr Attorcop finished his drink and shouted to Lilian above the din that he was going to bed and that she should probably try and sleep soon as well. They were going to join the Hayes’ caravan in the morning and they would be leaving early. Lilian nodded and waited until the song was finished before tapping Fritha on the neck and leading her up to their room. They got some strange looks as they mingled through the crowd but Lilian was quick enough so as to not let Fritha stay in anyone’s sights for too long. By the time she reached the back stair case of the Inn the fiddler had started up again and the familiar tune was met with raucous cheers that dimmed with each step Lilian took up to the first floor. She found her little room that she had been designated earlier that evening and she got ready for bed. The bed was not exactly luxurious, but compared to sleeping on the mat of her travel tent, it felt positively royal. Even Fritha seemed excited to be curling up on a warm carpet next to a stove fireplace. Lilian smiled as her head hit the pillow the songs and faces of her fellow travellers still whirling around her head.
Lilian slept so well that she had some difficulty waking up the next morning. Mr Attorcop had to wrap sharply on her door several times before she realised that she wasn’t dreaming the sound. She mumbled groggily that she was awake and opened her eyes to see an anxious Fritha pawing at the door. Her coat was a strange orange colour dappled with blue spots. Lilian remarked at how her colours often seemed to be most vibrant in the mornings. She was sorry to have to go through her colour changing training to make sure she was fit to mix with the other travellers, many of whom were doubtless already awake even at this early hour. Minutes laters, Lilian was chewing a crust of bread whilst Fritha relieved herself behind a tree. Lilian watched as the Hayes family and a couple of other folk loaded up their carts and bridled their horses, getting ready for the day’s travel. When Fritha had finished they approached Mrs Hayes who was smiling.
“Nice day for it.” She remarked. Lilian looked up to the blue sky and nodded.
“Let’s hope it keeps it up.” Lilian never really knew what to say when people talked to her about the weather, but she’d heard that phrase once and found that it fit in most situations. The opposite of course being ‘let’s hope it changes quickly’. Just then, as she approached the cart, the horse that Mrs Hayes was tending let out a loud whinny. The chestnut mare stomped her feet and began jerking her neck back. Mrs Hayes was caught off guard and stumbled as she tried to calm the animal. Lilian looked on, confused. She noticed that it’s brown eyes were wide and fixed on Fritha.
“There now Honey.” Mrs Hayes said in a reassuring tone. “S’only a dog, albeit a big one.” Lilian looked down at Fritha who was yawning and looking about, seemingly oblivious to the effect she was having on the horse’s mood.
“Sorry,” Lilian started to lead Fritha aside, out of the horse’s eyeline.
“Don’t worry my love, Honey’s always been a nervous nag. I’ve seen her jump at her own reflection in a puddle.” Mrs Hayes laughed and Lilian led Fritha towards the back of the cart, reminding herself that she shouldn’t take Fritha too close to horses in the future. To the human eye she might look like a big dog, but to a horse’s nose, gods know how she must seem. Within the space of half an hour everyone was packed and ready to go. Mr Hayes seemed to have appointed himself troupe leader and he gave a loud whistle to signify departure. With the Hayes family and a few stragglers, Lilian counted 11 people in their caravan. Most were farmers or traders making the trip to the city to sell their goods. From talking to everyone Lilian learned that these big city markets were essentially a farmer’s main source of income, they couldn’t afford to get robbed or break down on the journey, hence the safety in numbers of the caravan.
“Are the roads near Freedos really that dangerous?” Asked Lilian. It was halfway through the morning and she was speaking to a middle aged man with a greying beard, who was wearing a leather jerkin and a small sword on his belt. His name was Brackus and Lilian wondered if his dark skin meant that he was from the desserts to the south.
“They can be.” He replied, keeping his eyes down on the road so as to navigate potholes as he walked. “That’s why I work with caravans quite a bit. Petty thieves see a few swords dotted amongst the group, they usually think twice about taking a chance. The farmers group together and pay me to keep watch, it’s an extra expense but usually worthwhile if it means they don’t lose their whole stock.” Lilian nodded in understanding. She watched Brackus scan the horizon with sharp blue eyes. They practically shone out from his dark face.
“Have you ever been in a fight?” She had been hesitant to ask the question as she wasn’t sure if it was something personal. Brackus didn’t seem to mind. He was a man of few words but opened up once he got on the subject of his work.
“I used to be in the Zandt military so yes I’ve been in a few fights. These days I hope there are more fights behind me than ahead though.”
“Do you ever go back to Zandt?” Lilian asked, curious as to what the mysterious deserts must be like to live in. Brackus shook his head.
“Not for some time. Doma invaded 2 years ago and it’s still dangerous to go back.”
“Doma?” Asked Lilian. For the first time, Brackus looked directly at her, apparently shocked by her ignorance.
“The kingdom to the west. Doma.” Lilian was embarrassed and so pretended to have misheard him.
“Oh, yes of course.” She mumbled, hoping her face wasn’t getting too red. This seemed to assuage Brackus. The two chatted about less serious things as the hours dragged by. Lilian mentioned that she wanted to learn how to fight and Brackus agreed to show her a few things if they ended up having to camp down for the night.
“It’s good for girls to fight.” He said, “In Alicium too few girls can fight. And in Freedos, ha!” He gave a loud shouting laugh, “They only know how to fight with words. I will give you a secret.” He leant down and lowered his voice to a mock whisper, “There has never been a word sharper than a blade, hahaha.” Brackus chuckled to himself. Lilian smiled. The phrase made her think of some of the arguments she used to have with her classmates in Madame Streng’s school. She always got so angry when the other children could think of witty or mean things to say. She could never think of anything clever and usually ended up shoving someone instead. Of course, hours later she would think of the perfect thing to say, but by then it was too late. She would have gotten into trouble for fighting and the mean kid in question would be let off. She looked over at Brackus’ scabbard strapped to his belt. It was leather bound wood studded with iron beetles. It was about the length of her arm and curved back like a crescent moon. They were walking near the front of the caravan. Mr Attorcop was sitting by Mr Hayes on top of the marrow cart a little way behind them. The sun was at its highest point in the sky and Lilian’s stomach was growling at her. Fritha was happily darting in and out of the tall grass by the road, thankfully keeping her brown shaggy coat on. Lilian looked up to Brackus and was about to ask him a question, when she noticed his eyes narrowed and focused on the road ahead. She followed his gaze and saw a figure on horseback coming from the opposite direction. The wind picked up at the same moment and the tall spring grass ebbed and flowed making it look like the rider was cutting through a deep green ocean. As they approached, Lilian saw that it was a man dressed in red and wearing silver plated armour. His horse was armoured as well, its massive head reflecting the sun’s light by way of polished metal plates. Lilian could hear the rider now, each of the horse’s thudding steps rang and clattered the layered plates. It was a majestic site. Lilian’s mind instantly jumped to the stories of knights and dragon slayers she had loved as an infant. She initially thought the rider carried a spear, but now she saw that it was a long pole with a flag on its top, flapping and dancing in the wind. The flag was also red but had a large black bear streaked across it. Lilian turned to ask Brackus if he knew what the bear signified but when she did, she realised that he was no longer walking beside her. She turned back to see him in the middle of the road, his eyes wide and much of the colour drained from his face. The entire caravan had come to a halt and Lilian instinctively called Fritha to her side as she began to jog back.
“Who is he?” She asked as she got close to Brackus. He snapped out of a reverie and looked down at her. As he opened his mouth to say something, she heard a deafening shout from the rider behind her.
“MAKE WAY!” The red and armoured man was closer now and Lilian could see that his metal breast plate was untarnished, unscratched and practically good as new. He had a dark beard and a helmet on that had tight curled ram’s horns coming off it and down the side of the rider’s face. Lilian was stunned by his presence and his cry. She wanted to turn and run back to Mr Attorcop but the rider’s second shout forced her to act differently.
“MAKE WAY ON THE ROAD!” The cry echoed towards the caravan and everyone, including Lilian sprang into action and started to pull the horses and carts off the road and into the long grass. Lilian jumped into the long grass as she watched Mr Hayes struggle with his mare Honey who was confused and having difficulty pulling the cart over the lip that marked the edge of the road. Lilian wondered at what might be causing the commotion, the road was not a small country lane, it could easily have two caravan’s pass by each other without trouble. Why then were they being forced off to one side?
“Who is he?” Lilian asked Brackus finally, now that most of the carts were in the grass. Brackus still seemed distracted, his eyes flicking from the rider to the rest of the party.
“His flag is the black bear.” Lilian could see that, but she did not know what it meant. Once again, she would have to betray her ignorance if she was going to get answers. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but it was the strange rider that gave her the answer.
“MAKE WAY. DO NOT INTERFERE WITH THE MARCH. MAKE WAY FOR THE HUNDRED.”
And then Lilian saw them.
Coming from down the road, as a sea of red and silver, was an army. Not a large army, but clearly a formidable one. Each soldier carried a pike, as tall as three men on each other’s shoulders and it was these that Lilian saw first. As the front unit approached Lilian could see their black boots, loose red trousers and shirts and various weapons strapped to their backs and belts. Not every member carried a pike, dotted between these spearmen were smaller groups of fighters with only axes and swords. It was when one of these groups got close enough that Lilian realised that the force was not only made up of men, but several women were peppered through the ranks. As they marched closer, the steady rhythm of steps got louder and louder. It was a quick beat and not one soldier missed a step. Lilian wondered at how they could all maintain such a rapid pace for so long. If she had been walking so quickly she thought, she would have had to stop for the day several hours ago. Now she understood why they were forced off the road. An army like this was clearly going somewhere in a hurry and could not afford to have to slow down. Lilian dreaded to think at what might have happened if a cart had broken down and they had not been able to clear the way. The sound of boots and clanking armour was deafening as the army walked past. Lilian marvelled at their helmets. Some were shaped like dog heads, others had silver wings sprouting from the sides. She even saw one that curled round the face of a woman with octopus tentacles made of beaten brass. None of the soldiers looked at the caravan as they passed but Lilian studied each of them in wide-eyed amazement. Once they had gone, it was as though the caravan breathed out a collective sigh. Slowly, the horses and carts were guided back on the road and the group continued their comparatively slow journey. Lilian was overflowing with questions but she wanted to make sure Brackus had finished his duties in helping the farmers before pestering him. Once they were well and truly back underway, Lilian fell into step with Brackus once again.
“Who were they?” She asked. Brackus kept his voice low.
“They are the hundred. The Empress must be getting desperate.”
“Are they the army of Freedos?” said Lilian. Brackus raised his eyebrows.
“No no. Freedos has a much bigger army than that. The hundred are mercenaries. An army for hire. Very good, very expensive.”
“Mercenaries.” replied Lilian, “Like you?” This got a good laugh out of Brackus.
“No no, not like me. Sometimes I fight for money. Maybe thieves, maybe drunk fools. But I don’t fight soldiers, armies three times the size of my group. I know how to use a sword but the hundred? They are a band that plays weapons like instruments. They say that if you hear their song, you are already dead.” Lilian looked back, but all she could see was the settling dust left in the wake of the hundred.
Lilian fell back and climbed the side of Mr Hayes’ cart to sit with him and Mr Attorcop. She kept an eye on Fritha who had gone back to rummaging around the tall grass.
“What did you make of them?” Mr Attorcop spoke as Lilian clambered onto the small bench atop the cart.
“They looked quite...serious.” She replied.
“Ha!” Mr Hayes laughed. “That’s a good way of putting it. I had heard they were marching to Freedos, I suppose they’ve been given their orders from the Empress by now.” He clicked his tongue at Honey the horse, trying to distract her from a puddle she’d found.
“I hadn’t realised the war had come this far.” Said Mr Attorcop.
“Not yet.” Mr Hayes replied, “But it’s on its way. I reckon the hundred are off to guard the Triford pass, maybe even Cutter’s bridge.” He flicked his string whip as he spoke and Mr Attorcop nodded solemnly. Lilian was becoming more and more aware of just how little she knew of the politics and the goings on of the wider world. Benlunar had never felt particularly connected to all that so she hadn’t bothered to ever ask or find out. Travelling to Freedos however, meant that she would be in the middle of it all, the cradle of culture and the home of Alicium’s nobility. She wouldn’t be able to move without bumping into a political situation. Lilian smiled, excited by the prospect of being that close to the actions and decisions that kept the world turning.
After a short break for food and water, the caravan continued on their journey. Lilian had expected to see the city in the distance at any moment, but Mr Attorcop reminded her that they might still be a day or two away. The grassy plains gave way to fenced paddocks and dozens of dozy cows occasionally looked up from their grazing to watch the group pass by. Lilian played a game with herself, trying to count how many were brown and how many were black. Occasionally they would pass smaller fields with pigs squealing in excitement, thinking they were about to be fed. Once they even saw a herd of funny looking creatures that looked like big sheep with long necks. Lilian tried walking up to one and feeding it but it just took one good look at her and spat in her face before running away. The caravan watched the whole thing and everybody laughed. Lilian laughed as well, she’d gotten quite dirty since their stop in Hundsberg, what was a little chewed cud on top of the rest of the muck and mud?
At early evening the group fell silent, admiring the pink and purple sky at sunset. A murmur however started to travel down the troupe as black smoke was spotted up ahead. Lilian stood on her seat to see if she could find its origin.
“There are some buildings over there.” She reported, “Maybe a farm? I think…” She squinted and strained her eyes, “I think one of them is on fire.” This sent louder whispers through the group. Lilian didn’t want to make any assumptions, but by now she could clearly see an orange glow catching on the base of the pillar of smoke. She looked at Mr Attorcop.
“What should we do?” She asked. Mr Attorcop looked thoughtful.
“Mmm it might just be a barn fire. Not much we could do to help if that was the case.” Lilian felt a pang of anger. “What do you mean, nothing we could do? We could at least try. We could at least try and grasp the essence of the situation.” She raised her eyebrows meaningfully. Mr Attorcop didn’t have to look back at her to understand.
“We could try. But we wouldn’t want to lose anything important.” Thankfully Mr Hayes came to the rescue.
“You could take Anna’s pony, ride on ahead if you like. We could meet you there. Might be that they’d let us spend the night in a barn or on something soft if we help out. Always better to kip with more people around.” Lilian grinned and began to hop down off the cart. She whistled loudly and Fritha came bounding out of the grass to her side. She had a rat in her mouth which she promptly gulped down in 3 big snaps of her jaws.
“Lilian,” Mr Attorcop called out, “I believe I’ve spoken to you before about recklessly running into situations.” Lilian was in the middle of helping Anna down off her chestnut pony when she paused for thought. If someone needed help then she wasn’t about to ignore them. She considered putting her foot in the stirrups and just galloping away. But she remembered what had happened in Hundsberg when she rushed off into the night without thinking. Mr Attorcop was slowly getting off the cart and reached Lilian by the time she was sitting in the saddle. Lilian looked down at him with wide eyes. She even considered trying to cry but thought that might be a bit much. Mr Attorcop breathed out a long sigh and looked back at Mr Hayes,
“I think the road turns off a few minutes away, we’ll cut across the field and meet you there.” Lilian’s heart leapt. Mr Attorcop looked back at her.
“Well move back then.” Lilian shuffled back in the saddle and made room for Mr Attorcop to sit and take the reins. He clicked his tongue, dug his heels and the chestnut pony lurched into a run. Mr Attorcop steered it off the road and onto the field, the grass was short and so there was little chance of potholes or mole hills breaking the pony’s leg. Fritha galloped by their side and Lilian was thankful for the blinkers fitted to the pony’s head. She didn’t want it spooking at this speed. In just a few minutes they’d closed a significant distance between them and the buildings. They could clearly see now that it was a small group of barns, stores and a farmhouse. One of the big barns still had smoke spewing from its open doors and roof. There were people milling around its base, at first Lilian assumed they were the farmers trying to put the fire out, but as they got closer, she could see that most of the figures were just watching the barn burn, some were even stepping in front of people with buckets of water, preventing them from entering the barn. Mr Attorcop pulled on the reins and slowed the pony down to a walk.
“What are they doing?” Asked Lilian. She couldn’t make out any faces clearly, but the people in front of the barn doors were men, dressed in dark clothes. Possibly leather armour, thought Lilian. One of them had a sword out, Lilian could see it occasionally catching the light of the setting sun. The man had the sword out in front of him and he was using it to gesture back and forth to the barn. He was speaking too, but they were too far away for Lilian to make out what they were hearing. Then she realised something.
“I’m going to try and hear what they’re saying.” She said to Mr Attorcop. He nodded and replied,
“I don’t think they’ve seen us yet. I’m going to take the pony to that copse.” He gestured to a small group of trees off to the right hand side of the buildings. As she felt the pony change direction, Lilian closed her eyes and focused. With all the practise she had been doing, the state of hyper attention came quickly. At first it was difficult to ignore the sounds of the pony’s hooves, breathing and heartbeat. But after about 30 seconds she managed to stretch her attention out towards the burning barn. The fire cracked and fizzed in her ears, masking the dim sound of speech. Eventually Lilian tuned the fire out enough to be able to catch what the men were saying. It was hard to link voices to the various movements and heartbeats but Lilian found that by focusing on the ringing and swishing of the iron sword she could pick out what the wielder was saying.
“You heard.” The words were dim but the longer the gruff voice spoke, the clearer it became.
“No one goes near the barn until we get our money. So you can put that bucket down and go back inside.” Lilian could hear the water sloshing about the wooden bucket, it was next to the fearful, quickening heart of the farmer. Lilian heard him speak next, his voice was shaky but the sound was clear as a bell.
“You scum. You let that burn down and you’re killing us. My family need…” He was cut off by the gruff voice.
“Your family need some sense knocked into ‘em. The longer you’re out here chattin’ the more your precious barn burns.” Lilian opened her eyes and whispered low and quick to Mr Attorcop.
“They’re holding the barn hostage.”
“How many?” Mr Attorcop replied.
“9, maybe 12 men. Some have swords. The farmer is trying to put out the fire but they’re demanding a ransom while it burns.” Lilian heard Mr Attorcop curse under his breath. She felt the pony slow down as it reached the clump of trees.
“What should we do?” Lilian spoke quickly, formulating a hundred plans in her head. She felt Mr Attorcop breathe out a large sigh.
“Mr Attorcop. Cromwell? What do we do?”
“Nothing.” Lilian had to make sure she’d heard him correctly. The word hung in the air as solemn as a death sentence from the lips of a judge.
“Nothing!?” Lilian almost shouted, but caught herself in time so as to not alert the bandits, “But…”
“Listen to me Lilian. We cannot get mixed up in every fight we come across. If what you say is true we are outnumbered and that’s with inexperienced farmers on our side. This world is full of injustice, it’s not our job to right them all.” Lilian remembered the speed of the farmers heartbeat and the quivering fear in his voice. She felt tears well up in her eyes.
“We’re not even going to try…”
“And get ourselves killed in the process? I’m sorry Lilian. But us coming over here and assessing the situation, that IS trying. That is seeing how we can help and realising that we can’t. If we bandied over there right now we might even make things worse. I say we cut back across the field and hope we can catch the caravan before they get too close.” Lilian heard and understood the words but they sounded wrong in her ears. There was that feeling again. That cramp in the pit of her stomach she’d felt in the days after Kilde passed away. She’d come to know it as injustice. Unfairness. A sense of powerlessness and weakness and and… And she hated it. Without thinking, Lilian dropped off the pony and whistled. In seconds she had Fritha at her side and she was striding towards the tower of smoke. Rage burned in her heart as she broke into a run. She heard Mr Attorcop shouting in a loud whisper but the words passed over her head. He could stay if he wants. But Lilian understood something now. She understood why she was learning to fight, why she was practising Gloaming. It was all so that she’d never have to feel frail or helpless again. It was so that she could help people who needed help, it was so that she could change the outcome of tragedy. It was for… it was for… The word was on the tip of her tongue but something was distracting her. Over the growing roar of the fire and shouts of the farmer and his family. Lilian could have sworn she could hear… singing.