Benlunar - Episode 20
The farmers prepare for war.
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
Lilian stopped in her tracks. Ahead of her she could still see the barn burning away. By now black smoke was billowing out of the roof, creating a tower 30 feet high. She was within shouting distance now of the farmer and his family. The farmer was still holding a pail of water, a pathetic suggestion of hope against the inferno beyond. He was older than Lilian had suspected, Lilian could see white hair sprouting from beneath his straw sunguard hat. His family were nearby, closer to the farmhouse. There was an older woman, presumably the farmer’s wife, and two young men who were similar looking enough to be brothers. They were watching their father square off against a nasty looking man with a pointed nose and a scarred lip. Him and his thuggish friends were blocking the way to the barn. Lilian had heard only moments ago that they were the ones who had set it alight, and were holding it hostage until the farmer gave them some sort of treasure or money in return. The scene was a tragic one and Lilian had hoped to come to the farmer’s aid. Although admittedly, she had no idea how she would be able to help. Currently everyone was frozen still. The fire could be heard cracking and hissing in the barn but the shouted exchanges had stopped. Lilian had also stopped. Everyone was looking about, cocking their heads in confusion as they attempted to discern the source of a song. Lilian could hear it clearly now, it was several voices singing in unison, singing a song she had not heard before. The song was… unsettling. It was melodious and admittedly well sung, but the feeling behind it was threatening somehow. Lilian felt a chill run down her back. It was made worse by the fact that she could not see where the voices were coming from. The group ahead did not appear to have noticed her so Lilian took the opportunity to drop down into the tall grass. Fritha took the hint and dropped to her belly, her coat shifting into a green colour with a grassy texture as she did so. Lilian still could not get over how such a big creature could disappear so easily. One of the thugs shouted something, “Who’s doing that??”
“Shut up!” The pointy nosed man snapped at his friend before reeling around, his eyes darting crazily from corner to corner. Lilian was looking too but then realised that she had better ways of finding sounds that didn’t involve her eyes. She closed her eyes and slipped into a relaxed focus. The first sound to hit her was Fritha’s heavy breathing. She could feel her weight against her and the vibrations of her heart beat echoed through her body with heavy thuds. Lilian expanded her sphere of attention and stretched it outwards. Like tentacles feeling their way through the grass she weaved past insects rubbing their chirping legs together, she found frogs by a creak and the quickened heart beats of the frightened farmers. The bandits were also scared, Lilian could hear their shallow breaths and their clothes rustling as their muscles tensed, ready to spring into fight or flight. The song was always present, like a blanket over the entire scene. This made it difficult to find at first, but after concentrating on the voices for just a few more seconds, Lilian found them. She had expected them to be hidden behind a wall or building, but when she opened her eyes she quickly looked left, expecting to see the singers arriving at any instant from down the main road. The voices hadn’t been making an effort to hide, but the quality of their song had meant that no one could place them. Lilian pushed herself up on her elbows slightly to get a better look. She had distinctly heard 3 voices, two low tones and one higher. As expected, two men and a woman appeared walking down the road towards the farm. The bandits and farmers turned to look at them. Lilian could see that they were wearing the red cloth shirts, dark red trousers and silver breastplates of the hundred. The two men even carried the distinct pikes that had made the small army seem so tall and dangerous. The woman carried two small axes in both hands. Lilian had seem similar axes in Benlunar, her family even had one. They were used to chop smaller bits of wood for the fire. Though Lilian had never seen any so brightly polished.
Lilian was confused, why were these three mercenaries here and not with the rest of their group? She watched as the soldiers approached the burning barn. They stopped singing when they were within speaking distance of the bandits. They rounded off the song by stomping their feet together, kicking up a small cloud of dust as they did. The two men stepped to either side of their female colleague and lowered their pikes. The woman, who Lilian could see was wearing a helmet shaped like a cow’s head, its blank silver eyes twisted into a terrible frozen shout, shifted her weight casually and spoke up.
“Why is this barn on fire?” Her voice was clear and stern. The impact of their impressive arrival was clearly not lost on the bandits. One of the thug’s eyes were so wide Lilian wondered if they might pop out of his head. Their leader was gritting his teeth. It was clear from just looking at the scene what was happening.
“You get out of here understand!? This doesn’t concern you.” He puffed his chest out as he shouted but Lilian could hear the fear cracking his voice. He was about to speak again when the farmer cut him off.
“These villains are burning down my property. They want money but I’ve told them we ain’t got much.” The man with the scarred lip, obviously the leader of these men, rushed towards the old man with his sword up. The farmer shut his eyes and brought his hands up to his face, dropping his bucket in the process. A feeble amount of water splashed to the ground. The clattering of the bucket had only just stopped before the farmer opened his eyes again. A large pike was embedded in the ground in front of him forming a barrier between him and the bandit. It was still vibrating from the impact as Lilian looked to one of the soldiers. He was on one knee, his right hand stretched out in front of him after having released the pike.
“Step back. Leave this place.” The woman with the cow helmet spoke again. The bandit leader, having narrowly avoided being skewered on a pike turn to look at his men. Clearly not wanting to appear weak, he spoke with as much confidence and bravado as his shaky legs would grant him.
“Sod this. We’ll come back later.” He pointed a scarred hand at the farmer, “We know you got money in that house. We got plenty of time, more men and more fire. Come on lads.” He gestured to his cronies and they started walking away. They glared at the soldiers as they walked past. Some men looked pleased to be going, others were angry, probably hoping to prove themselves against some members of the legendary Hundred. Lilian watched them walk disbondantly away and caught sight of a cloud of dust in the distance. Lilian remembered that they had instructed their caravan to take the road round to the smoke, this must be them arriving now. She hoped that the bandits wouldn’t cause them any trouble as they crossed paths.
As soon as the men were a safe distance away the farmer and his family sprang into action. They fetched more pales and ran over to a pump at the side of the farm house. The soldiers helped as well, laying down their pikes and running into the barn to extract any bales of hay that had not yet been touched by the fire. Lilian saw her chance to provide meaningful help and she leapt to her feet. She waved and shouted as she ran towards them and she noticed the soldiers tense ever so slightly as they turned to look at her. But after seeing she was just a young girl with a big dog, they relaxed and went back to helping. About a minute later Mr Attorcop had joined them and the caravan were just pulling up as well. Everyone chipped in and ran about fetching pails of water and trying desperately to save any hay bails. It took nearly an hour to get the fire under control and for people to enter the barn properly to survey the damage. Luckily, the fire had been started by a torch tossed to the top of a large pile of hay, this meant that some of the roof was badly burnt but had the fire been started at the base, it could have been a lot worse. Even so, the farmer’s wife, who Lilian found out was called Gemma, had tears welling in her eyes as she past round cups of tea to everyone who had helped.
“We provide feed for the whole region.” She explained. “Everyone depends on us to feed their livestock in the winter, we’ll manage a few weeks bu…” She cut herself off, stifling a sob. Everyone was sitting on and around the decking in front of the farm house. Some folks were tending to burnt hands, others were resting their eyes after the commotion. The family were still in shock.
“I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t showed up.” The farmer, Tim Garrow was his name, said to the mercenary woman.
“We saw your company earlier.” Mr Attorcop interjected, “What made you separate?” The mercenaries eyed him with cold gazes. Lilian felt uneasy when they spoke, they looked at people as if they were… things.
“We saw the smoke and were instructed to investigate.” The woman with the cow helmet spoke with an accent similar to the people of Hundsberg, only softer. Tim Garrow seemed to be plucking up the courage to say something.
“I’m forever in your debt m… my lady. But I’m afraid I’ve nought to give you for your services, save my gratitude. I’m aware of how you make your living.” The woman looked at him and took off her helmet. Fair hair unfurled from under it and her countenance seemed to soften with it.
“This event can be free of charge.” The farmer’s relief was palpable, “But,” the woman continued, “The man said they would be back. Perhaps they are coming back tonight. We can stay for one night before we must get back to our company. But we will not stay for free.” The proposition hung in the air. Lilian was letting Fritha drink from her cup, but even she turned to look as she sensed the shift in atmosphere. It was not as threatening as setting a barn on fire, but it was almost as cold. The farmer nodded.
“You’ve already done so much. I cannot ask any more of any of you. My family have lived here a long time, we’ve not much, but we’ll handle ourselves if they come back.” Mr Attorcop narrowed his eyes.
“You keep saying you don’t have anything to give. Why were those men so convinced that you had money here?”
“I don’t know! They just showed up and started threatening us and demanding we give them a ton of coin. We have a bit stashed away for a bad winter but it’s really not much and giving it to them could be a death sentence for the farm. It would have been the same as losing the barn so alls I could do was watch it burn.” Everyone thought on his words for a moment. Lilian noticed one of his sons staring at his feet. His eyes glistening with tears. The mood was about to change, Lilian sensed the summation of things with the awkward shifting of weight and occasional glances at the road. Mr Hayes even breathed in a long breath ready to give his condolences and be on his way, when the farmer’s son spoke up.
“It were my fault.” The young man stood up, clutching his loose shirt and looking as though he was about to cry.
“Shut up Ben.” His brother stood beside him.
“JEB…” Both men were cut off by their father. His tone was deadly serious. “What’s all this now? What do you know?” The two boys were the picture of shame. Their cheeks flushed and their eyes darted to the ground and sky. It was Ben who spoke up first.
“Few days back, when me and Jeb were in town. We had a bit to drink. Nothing too crazy, just a few jars at the horns. But there were these men, big blokes saying they’d heard Freedos farmers are rich cos o’ the city trade.” At this point he stuttered and fiddled with his shirt. Lilian could sense his father’s anger rising. Ben continued, “Well I’d had a bit to drink and I wanted to do us proud so I told em we were the richest farmers about. Best product, biggest house.” He plunged his face into his hands, his voice coming out muffled. “I must have drawn em right here and now they think we got a ton of cash to give em. Dad I’m so sorry.” A silence fell. Lilian expected Farmer Garrow to explode in a fire worse than the one they’d just put out. But he simply sighed.
“Well. If that’s what’s put the idea in their head, there won’t be any dissuading them. And I dare say you lot showing up hasn’t managed to persuade anyone that we’re dirt poor.” He pointed at the three mercenaries. Lilian gathered that hiring even three of the hundred would set most folks back an arm and a leg. The mercenaries showed no remorse. They had worked for free once that day, that was enough of an apology. Suddenly, Mr Attorcop spoke,
“We should assume that they were serious about their threat. Right now it doesn’t matter what conclusion they’ve come to, or how, if they plan on taking the farm then we need to assume that’s happening tonight.” He looked at Mr Hayes and his family, “I know the market starts soon, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave…” Mr Hayes cut him off.
“Ooooh no. I may never have met the Garrows before today, but round here we look after our own. I’ll stay and help how I can.” Mr Garrow’s chest swelled with pride and appreciation.
“Much obliged Mr…”
“Hayes.” Mr Garrow thought on the name.
“You’re not Sam’s boy are ye?” Mr Hayes nodded.
“I am and proud to be. We took over the marrow farm two years back. You knew my da?”
“I did. Good man. I was sad to hear of his passing.” The two farmers shared a respectful moment.
“How strange that you have a connection like that!” Mr Attorcop continued, Lilian sensed a hint of mock surprise in his voice, “So if most of us from the caravan stay then we should be a match for what we saw today. The danger arises if they decide to get reinforcements.” At this he turned to the mercenary woman.
“I didn’t catch your names.” They each looked at him, stern and stoic as ever.
“My name is Solveig.”
“Solveig. If you and your colleagues were to stay, then any reinforcements shouldn’t be a problem.” The woman, Solveig, barely let him finish.
“A rate must be negotiated.” Mr Attorcop smiled a rare charming grin.
“I don’t suppose you’d accept a heartfelt appeal to your humanity.” Solveig’s expression did not change.
“No.” She said, “We do accept gold though. If you have no gold then we must be leaving.” At that, one of the younger members of the caravan spoke up. He was a scrawny man that Lilian had barely noticed on the journey. He had a cart of spun and dyed wool and wore a silly woolen hat with a large brim. His voice cracked as he spoke, “You leave now and you might as well drive the swords in us yourself.” Everyone looked at him, but no one disagreed. The comment didn’t seem to bother the mercenaries. Solveig simply looked at him as if… as if he was nothing more than a noise. Like the buzz of a fly. It was then that Lilian had an idea. She got up and walked over to the three red and silver soldiers. Fritha instinctively followed her. She reached into a hidden pocket and pulled out her gold sovereign.
“Here.” She said, “This is all I have. I’m not sure if it will be enough but you’re welcome to it. I’m going to stay and help these people. I would like it if you stayed as well.” Lilian knew their chances of survival would double with three highly trained soldiers on their side. She hadn’t seen anything worth spending the coin on in her travels, this seemed like a worthy cause though. Solveig looked down. For an instant, Lilian thought she saw a sliver of character poke through her stony front. Perhaps it was Lilian’s selfless act, or more probably, it was just that she was surprised to see a child handing over such a large sum. She took it in her left hand and nodded.
“I’m sure this will do.” A palpable sense of relief quickly spread around the group. There was little time to react however, as Solveig addressed them..
“With the acceptance of this coin I confirm a contract between the Garrow family and three members of The Ursus Centurion of Helvetis. We will fight until tomorrow morning at Sunrise or until we believe the contract to be over. Unless anyone has any disagreement, I will be taking control of the operation.” She paused, as if waiting for someone to interject. No one did, many people seemed happy for her to take charge. Lilian looked at some of the pitchforks and blunt spades lying around and wondered if they were really prepared for what was coming.
“Good. I suggest we eat and rest for one hour. Then we begin preparations for defense. I will need all able men and fighters to meet me here. Those not willing to fight must find somewhere distant to hide.” Mr Garrow interjected,
“There’s a store shed through the trees over there. Big enough to hide a cart behind and there’s a stove to keep warm.”
“Good.” Solveig replied, “If you don’t fight, you go there. You don’t light the stove though. Smoke will be seen.” As she said this last part her eyes fell on Lilian, as if she expected her to understand and take heed. Hang on, thought Lilian, does she expect her to hide? Lilian was about to speak up and protest but Solveig continued.
“I need all weapons here and any sacs of manure that you have to spare.” This confused Lilian but Mr Garrow nodded, “Now eat and rest. We begin soon.” Various groups began pulling away and fetching food from their packs. Lilian felt a hand grab her left arm and pull her back towards Mr Hayes’ cart. She looked up to see Mr Attorcop.
“That was…” He faltered, trying to find the right words, “A noble thing you did Lilian. I’m sure the Garrow family appreciates it.” Lilian felt as though she was in some kind of trouble. But she pushed the feeling back, it was her money and her decision.
“I don’t like bullies.” She replied, “Besides, what happened to you not caring? Before Solveig arrived you were ready to leave the Garrow’s to die.” She hadn’t forgotten his words.
“I stand by what I said.” Replied Mr Attocop, “You’re impulsive and reckless. If you had tried to defend the Garrow’s you might have ended up with a sword in your side. You didn’t even…” He sighed a long and controlled breath, apparently trying to suppress some anger or was it fear? “You have the right intentions Lilian. I admire that. But you need to pick your battles. Literally. There is no shame in admitting you can’t help or you can’t win. How can you help others if you’re dead, hm? You need to learn to judge your own abilities. You rushed over here with nothing but good intentions.”
“And Fritha.” Lilian protested.
“Yes and Fritha. But she has teeth, and claws, you have…” He made a gesture at her, waving his arms as if pointing to nothing and everything. Lilian was fed up,
“So what, you want me to fight only when I can win? Wouldn’t that mean I’m always fighting people weaker than me? THAT’S called bullying.” Mr Attorcop shook his head.
“No Lilian. Do you remember what I said when I first told you about the lunar essence? About how power comes from advantage? Every winner has some kind of advantage. Even if it’s just a scrappy attitude, that can always make a difference. The key is to arm yourself with as many advantages as you can, ready to draw from a huge well of hidden gifts and abilities that can adapt to any situation. The key to fighting is the same as the key to politics, only reveal your moves when they are least expected and most needed.” Mr Attorcop started rummaging around his pack. A medium sized black bag with silver studs where the handle met the sack. He pulled out an object wrapped in a grey cloth and handed it to Lilian.
“I know you’re going to want to fight tonight and it seems like I won’t be able to stop you. But at least I can arm you.” Lilian unfolded the cloth to find a long knife nestled inside it. The blade was almost the length of her forearm, which for someone of Lilian’s height meant that it was practically a short sword. Its steel blade reflected Lilian’s wide eyed stare back at her. The handle was light and bronze and looked like the body of a short snake, the scales making a decent grip and the blade itself protruding from the snake’s mouth. It even had four little fangs that gripped the blade. It was beautiful and familiar.
“This was Kissandras knife.” Lilian turned it and rubbed its edge on her thumb. It gave the satisfying scraping sound of a knife sharp enough to cut an onion in one easy swipe.
“A good-looking blade.” Lilian looked up to see Solveig approaching from around the cart.
“The snake is a good ally. It hides until it strikes, unseen and faster than the eye can track.” Lilian covered the blade again and smiled at Solveig. She had put her helmet back on and Lilian couldn’t help but look into its angry eyes.
“Is the cow better than the snake?” Lilian asked, looking up to the helmet. Solveig smiled.
“Better at what?” Lilian wasn’t sure how to respond. Solveig looked to Mr Attorcop.
“You are a man of science?” Mr Attorcop nodded slightly.
“You will help me with the manure.” Mr Attorcop seemed to understand and nodded in agreement. Lilian wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to but didn’t want to pass up an opportunity to ask Solveig something.
“Will you show me how to use it?” She held up the cloth with the blade in it. Solveig looked amused.
“Once everything is ready and only if there is time.” Lilian smiled. Solveig began to walk away when Lilian asked another question.
“Are we going to be ok? Those men from earlier, they looked… nasty.” Solveig walked back and knelt in front of Lilian. Her helmet dropped to Lilian’s eye level. Lilian could see the cow’s angry eyes and the detail shaped into its nose and ears. It was a beautiful piece of equipment. Solveig looked at her and spoke softly.
“Men, nasty or nice, die every day. Let me ask you, do you think more of them die from snakes,” She gestured to Lilian’s knife, “Or from cows.” Solveig had a fire in her eyes as she said this. Lilian was blindsided by the question. As Solveig got up and turned to walk away, Lilian almost called out her answer, she was going to say snakes. Surely more men die from snake bites she thought. But she caught herself as she remembered the two farmers discussing Sam’s death. She remembered the many fences around cow fields and the sheer number and size of the animals kept behind them. This realisation both frightened and reassured her.
A few hours later Solveig called for everyone to meet at the farm house. They had set up barricades along the road leading up to it. Mr Attorcop had helped with those while Lilian had been moving the carts to the store shed. She had helped Anna and Mrs Hayes make the shed as comfortable as possible and they stayed there while Lilian returned to the farmhouse with Fritha trotting beside her. The farmers had gathered various pitchforks, sharp looking rakes and hoes. They’d even found a couple of hunting bows which the two mercenary men were busy checking. The team had been boarding up windows, laying bear traps in the grass and generally preparing the place for a small war. Lilian wondered if this was all a bit much, but reminded herself of what Mr Attorcop had said, that every advantage counts. She felt the weight of her new knife tucked into the back of her belt. She had practised getting it out without cutting herself and was growing more used to carrying it with every hour that went by. Even Fritha had been unsure at first, giving it a proper sniff before letting Lilian tuck it into her belt. Solveig stood on the steps leading up to the farm house door. The sun had set but the various torches dotted around the yard cast a flickering light onto her calm face.
“Tonight we are ghosts.” She started, “We make this farm look like it has been abandoned. We pretend to have run into hiding. We let them take the paths we have set out for them. You know where your traps are and you know your signal to spring them. Our goal is to protect the farm and each other, which means that if our opponents run away then we have victory. Let them run from the ghosts that haunt this place. Let us strike fear into their hearts and make them think twice before attacking innocent folk.” Lilian felt pride and admiration swell in her heart. Solveig looked glorious in her dazzling silver, the torchlight burning brightly in the helmet cow’s eyes. Lilian wanted to applaud, but Solveig’s face grew serious.
“There may be times when you are faced with a difficult choice. There is no shame in not wanting to end a life. But know this. Tonight, there may come a time when not ending a man’s life means that he will end yours. Don’t let indecision make that choice for you. Make it now and save yourself regret. Understand?” Lilian thought hard. She had never considered the actual possibility of killing someone. The knife felt heavy in her belt. She thought for a few moments and made her choice, quietly and to herself. She absent mindedly touched Fritha behind her ears. Solveig wished everyone luck and people started walking towards their designated posts. Solveig looked at Lilian and beckoned her to her side. Lilian gave Mr Attorcop a look, she nodded solemnly and he nodded back. She knew that he had the choice to go and she was thankful that he’d decided to stay. She looked back at Solveig and ran to catch her up. She was heading for the barn, one of the mercenary men walked next to her. When Lilian caught them up they walked in silence until they reached the barn. The man from the hundred, who was tall and broad shouldered and wore a helmet shaped like a bat’s head, heaved the barn doors open and waited until they were inside to shut them. He kept watch while Lilian and Solveig spoke.
“Show me how you fight.” Solveig spoke softly, presumably wanting to keep noise to a minimum since they were laying an ambush. Lilian wrinkled her nose at the smoky smell, there was a glimmer of starlight that shone through the burnt roof, but apart from that there was no light. Lilian could see Solveig’s armour but had to squint to see her expression. Timidly, Lilian brought out her new dagger and shifted her weight into a guarding stance. Fritha seemed to recognise it from her training and crouched behind Lilian’s legs, the hairs on her back raising preemptively. Solveig looked intently at her. Not a single attack had been made, but Lilian suddenly felt every potential weakness was exposed. Solveig’s eyes pierced through darkness and defense. In a silent flash of movement Solveig was holding an axe in each hand. Lilian’s heart began to beat heavy with nerves. Her eyes darted from the axes, to Solveig’s face, to her feet, to the barn. Solveig looked only at Lilian’s eyes.
“Your eyes give you away.” She said, “Look into my eyes and nowhere else. If you look at my right side, be sure to strike my left, understand?” Lilan nodded and focused her gaze on Solveig’s eyes, or at least, where she presumed her eyes were. In the dim light, all she could see were the eyes of the cow on her helmet. They moved closer and Lilian stepped back, Fritha effortlessly getting out of her way as she did. The two stepped around each other, occasionally Solveig would shift her arms or her stance. Lilian would react to every shift like a potential attack, jerking her hands up in defence or ducking before anything was thrown her way. She felt foolish, bouncing around while Solveig moved so fluidly.
“Breathe, find a rhythm.” She said, “when you react like this,” She mimicked Lilian’s quick tensing, bringing her shoulders up and her arms in close to her chest, “you give me a window in the off beat. Watch.” Solveig put her right foot out quickly, Lilian thought she was dashing in for a right slash and her body twitched into a defense, but half a second afterwards Lilian found herself staring at the blade of Solveig’s left axe. “Your defense is good, but only if every attack is true. One feint and you’re done.” She took the blade away and Lilian sighed in relief. Fritha stepped between them growling her strange jangling growl. Solveig’s eyes narrowed at the strange sound. Lilian spoke up before Solveig could ask a question.
“How do I counter a feint?” Solveig snapped out of her focus on Fritha.
“You wait until the last moment to defend. You stay calm. You keep your weapon close to your body and you shift your whole upper body, not just your arms, when you parry.” She brought her axes in close to her chest and demonstrated her pivoting defences. Lilian watched as her shoulders span left and right in attempts to dodge an imaginary enemy. Just then, the barn lit up and Solveig’s shifting, silver form could be seen clearly dodging and parrying, dancing to no music in the light of the moon which was now directly above the barn. Lilian wanted to watch for longer, she was raptured by the grace and power. She could have watched all night, but just then the mercenary with the bat helmet turned to them both and spoke,
“They’re here.”