The Brotherhood (The Eirensgarth Chronicles Book 1) Page 14

  Then again, where was the justice for her family if she couldn’t?

  Paige fingered the key around her neck, wondering what her father would have done. She thought about his kind blue eyes looking down at her, his face crinkled up in an understanding, compassionate grin. No. No, she was certain he wouldn’t condone such actions. Revenge was not his way, and as much as Paige wanted to make the soldier suffer for his crimes, she knew her papa would never abide such thoughts.

  Crashing pottery sounding outside the hut jarred her back into the present. It was dark outside, and she’d completely lost track of time while lost in her own thoughts. She reached up and clutched Klaíomh, pulling it smoothly from her braid and gripping it as she sat perched upon the stuffed chair.

  For a moment Paige heard nothing. The stillness outside was only broken by the distant chirping of crickets in the meadow. She strained her ears while clutching her sword in her hand, gazing out the open doorway into the indigo sky. A jolting pop in the embers of the dying fireplace caused her to twitch, and she felt her knuckles tighten around the hair pin.

  “Robert?” she called out softly. Paige wondered if he had perhaps dropped a pot on his way back from the garden. It was awfully late by this point, however, and she began to wonder where on earth he could be.

  No one answered her, but then again, she had barely whispered the name. Dare she call out louder? What if it wasn’t him? What if the soldiers had found the hut?

  Within a moment or two, she could hear what sounded like a low grumble, or at the very least a baritone muttering. This voice did not belong to her host.

  Paige quickly slid off the side of the chair and crouched under its stuffed arm, peeking around the table to see if she could get a look at whoever it was. The voice grew louder and more distinct as the seconds ticked by.

  “… who leaves a flower pot in the middle of a pathway, honestly...”

  The stranger continued to mutter and grumble inaudible terms. Paige craned just enough to look over the top of Robert’s table. To her surprise, the only thing she could see through the open door was the point of a small leather hood bobbing up and down like a cork on a fishing line. Heavy boots stomped on the earthen floor.

  Paige readied to spring into action if she had to. The movement, although as quiet as a raindrop, seemed to draw the attention of whoever had walked through the doorway. The little hood stopped moving and jerked about back and forth as if searching for the source of a sound. Paige bit her lip and clutched the hairpin to her chest, mentally preparing herself to utter its name. The hat slowly began to drift towards the corner of the table where Paige was hiding. The princess held her breath.

  With a quick prayer for reassurance, Paige dove around the corner of the table and raised Klaíomh. The sight that greeted her startled her so much that she let out a small cry.

  A short, fat little figure wheeled around in terror and ran straight into the thick oak table leg. The force knocked the creature on its backside and caused it to almost somersault into Paige’s lap. The little being scrambled up to its feet and whirled around to face Paige, a set of pudgy, ham-sized fists raised in defense.

  “Klaíomh!” Paige shouted, leaping to her feet as the sword shot forth from the hairpin. The creature went white as a sheet but kept his fist raised defiantly as he stared cross-eyed down Paige’s blade.

  “Who are you!?” Paige demanded, pointing the tip of the saber at the stocky creature. “What are you doing poking around here?”

  “Poking around!? Well, I never!” he huffed indignantly, jabbing a sausage-shaped finger up at the princess, who now stood upright and towered at least two feet over him.

  This person looked similar to a man but he had a giant bulbous nose and ears that stuck out from his head and tapered at the points. Unlike Paige’s ears, his pointed down to the floor, almost like Robert’s. He wore baggy, grubby, homespun clothes and a pair of wide-cuffed boots that appeared to be at least three sizes too large for him. He wore a leather arming cap with the chin straps dangling comically, outlining a pair of round, red cheeks, which sat beneath equally round blue eyes. Thick black hair poked out in tufts all the way down to a short but curly beard bereft of a mustache.

  “Answer me quick, or I will dispatch you quicker!” Paige hissed. She raised the tip of her sword.

  “Broadside,” the little man grunted.

  “That's it?” Paige asked, eyeing him with no small amount of skepticism.

  “I think I would know my own name, now, wouldn’t I?” the little fellow hissed, keeping his clenched fists raised. “Some of us do just fine with one, thank you very much!”

  “Well, then, what are you doing here smashing up pottery and creeping around this hut?” Paige demanded. “It’s a bit late for a social call, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “It would be, if I was here for a social call, but as it stands, I came here to check on your scrawny posterior!” Broadside muttered. “I daresay, I thought hauling your drenched corpse across that very threshold would warrant a little less hostility.”

  Paige narrowed her eyes at the creature who moved his clenched fists from a defensive stance to firmly plant them on his wide, stubby hips like a fussy mother scolding a small child. With such a great height difference, it was actually genuinely comical to Paige, and she found herself laughing in spite of herself.

  “Now, what is so funny?” Broadside snapped. “I don't know about you humans, but it’s considered extremely rude to laugh and someone’s face in Dwarvish society.”

  “I'm afraid with the last few days I’ve had, I don’t give two Cops what you think, dwarf.” Paige chuckled, dropping her sword point.

  The dwarf’s face melted into a somber expression, and he nodded. “I suppose you are right,” the little creature almost whispered, genuine compassion lacing his low baritone. “I can’t say I blame you. After what I’ve seen today, you are handling everything quite well overall, if I may say so.”

  “You bumbling oaf! You’ve smashed my best pot!” Robert came stomping through the vestibule, slamming the thick door shut behind him. The dwarf turned and looked at Paige’s host, indignant once again.

  “Well, maybe if you didn’t leave your pot in the middle of a bloody pathway, it wouldn’t get stepped on!” the dwarf sneered like a cheeky toddler.

  “Or you should watch where you’re going like you had half a brain!” Robert retorted. “Like you said, it was right there in the middle of the pathway. It’s not like it was hiding from you!”

  “It still wasn’t my fault!”

  “It wasn’t NOT your fault!”

  “Boys, it was just a pot,” Paige tried to interject, but both of them rounded on her, glaring.

  “You stay out of this, missy!” Broadside ordered.

  “It’s not about the pot. It’s about the principal,” Robert snapped.

  “Principle!? What principle am I missing? ‘Don’t leave breakable things lying about’ seems pretty cut and dried to me!”

  “It’s my property and I’ll do whatever I bloody well please!”

  “Oh, shut up!” Paige snapped. She was feeling the exhaustion creeping back into her bones. It was all she could do to maintain her composure as she whirled back on the little dwarf. “What did you mean when you said I’m ‘handling myself well’ earlier? What did you see?”

  “She sure asks a lot of questions, doesn’t she?” Broadside muttered to Robert. Robert nodded but gave an expectant look at the dwarf.

  “I went seeking answers, of course,” Broadside said, his somber expression of pity directed up at Paige. He doffed his cap respectfully, his messy, wavy black curls springing free. “And it’s not good. Quite awful, actually.”

  “Did you see the village?” Robert asked, raising an eyebrow, but the dwarf shook his head.

  “I saw the smoldering remains of what at one time could’ve been a village, and the graves of men, women and children thrown together in giant pits.”

  Paige felt a sob choke her t
hroat. Her knees began to buckle. She staggered backwards into the chair she’d been sitting in moments ago, her stomach feeling like it had been hit with a club. She felt her core clench to purge the sunken feeling in her stomach. Robert snatched up a vase off his bookshelf and pitched the water and some crumbling carnations to the floor. He thrust it at the princess just in time—she yanked the flowerpot from Robert and heaved.

  After she finished, she felt significantly better physically, but the heavy, wet wool blanket of despair still hung upon her soul. Mental images of her friends and loved ones piled dead in a ditch remained, each one bringing a tear to brim over her lashes. Papa had always promised Mother that they would rest together, side by side beneath the Elder trees. Now they were probably stacked far apart, tossed in a heap with their friends and neighbors.

  Broadside seemed remiss to say anything else. His face screwed itself into genuine worry. He took a step back and looked at the floor, but Paige got ahold of herself and clenched her jaw to keep from crying.

  “What else?” she murmured through gritted teeth. Broadside looked like he was going to object, but Robert coughed, glaring at the dwarf.

  “I must be honest; it does not get better. The army had set up camp in what was left of the forest. There are at least three regiments there, but I can't be sure. As best as I was able to ascertain, they had mustered out of Aschin, and that’s where they were heading back to.”

  “Did they raid any other villages?” Robert asked. Broadside shook his head.

  “No, best as I can tell.”

  “Which means Kapernaum was the target all along,” Robert spat.

  “Were there any survivors?” Paige asked.

  “There were quite a few,” Broadside said, a slight note of hopeful resolution in his tone, “but I can’t be sure exactly how many. I saw at least fifty or sixty of them being roped together for the march. Mostly women and children.”

  “We can assume they’re going to take them back to Aschin,” Robert said. “If they don’t stay there, they’ll be shipped up the valley to Franghal to work in the mines, I’d imagine.”

  Paige pulled her braid over her shoulder and clutched it hard. She took a shaky breath.

  “And the survivors. Did…did any of them have hair like mine?

  Broadside hesitated a moment and then nodded.

  “Yes, Princess, there was one girl with hair the color of mountain wheat. And, unless I’m completely off and pointed ears are now a human thing, I bet my best pair of britches she was a halfling.”

  Paige felt her heart skip a beat. She sank to her knees and let gut-wrenching sobs of relief engulf her. Olivian could still be alive; a miracle beyond miracles. She had no idea what sort of state her sister might be in or where she could be headed, but at least there was hope she was still alive.

  Broadside shifted uncomfortably, but Robert moved over to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder, patting it gently. Paige felt reassured by this gesture and managed to regain her composure.

  “I don’t know how I can thank you,” she said. “Either of you. That is the first piece of good news that I have heard since I left home.”

  “Well… she’s being dragged off to a dungeon across some of the most treacherous terrain in Eirensgarth. That’s not exactly good news,” Robert cautioned. “So I’m not sure we should throw a party just yet.”

  Paige wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve and stood.

  “Obviously,” she said, straightening her hair and returning her trusted hair pain to its proper place. “If she is out there, I have to go find her. She survived the destruction. That’s all that matters.”

  Paige moved for the door but Robert stepped in her path and raised an eyebrow.

  “You can't seriously mean now?”

  “Robert, I can’t thank you enough for the hospitality and the kindness you have shown me, but please get out of my way.”

  “Don’t be an idiot.”

  “You think I’m going to just stand by knowing my sister will die? I have to save her! If I hurry, I can catch them before they reach Aschin!”

  “Listen, you were running around in the Wild on foot. It took at least a day to get you here, and two for you to wake up. That means they are three days ahead of you, even more considering horses, roads, and guard outposts you’d have to skirt around. You’d never catch up on foot, and more likely, you’ll be captured long before you could reach her.”

  “I was good enough to keep from getting caught last night, or two nights ago, or whenever that was!”

  “That’s called luck, cupcake, and it does run out. You do realize that Aschin is one of the most fortified palaces west of the Imperial capital, right?”

  Paige glared at him but didn’t head for the door.

  “How fortified?”

  “Well, let’s see—it’s a castle with multiple walls and levels built into the solid rock of a mountain. In fact, the dungeon is carved into the mountain itself. It maintains at least a regiment of garrisoned soldiers at any given time, with countless guard houses and so many gates it isn’t even funny. How do you plan to save her from all that? Are you going to just waltz right in and take on the entire force, which, by the way, is about, oh, one hundred infantry with a yeomanry four times that number?”

  The grave, sarcastic voice with which he berated her only made her angry, but the facts presented reasoning with which she could not argue.

  “I can’t just let her be defiled by that accursed barbarian! Who knows what he’ll do to her? I’ll break the gate down if I have to!”

  “Gates! Plural!” Robert corrected, but Paige was no longer listening. She yanked her mother’s hairpin back out of her braid, energy surging through her veins.

  “Again! Don’t be an idiot—” Robert began, but she was too quick for him.

  “Klaíomh!” she shouted, and the blue sparks sprang from the hair piece and shot forward into the long curved blade. She placed the tip of it under his jaw, in the soft, fragile part of his neck. He eyed her in cocky amusement as she glared at him, her cold steel eyes boring holes into his.

  “Oh, gracious me,” Broadside blubbered on the other side of the table. “Should I give you two a minute?”

  “This won’t take a minute,” Paige spat. Robert eyed her coolly, his gaze unconcerned and unwavering. Page steadied herself with a deep breath before continuing. “She’s the only one I’ve got left. If I hadn’t run back to the hut, I might have saved her. If Papa hadn’t fallen, we might have gotten to her first, and it’s all my fault!” Tears were in her eyes now. Robert’s haughty gaze slowly melted into sympathy.

  “Easy there, half-stock. You aren’t to blame. You committed no crime.”

  She looked at him, holding his gaze, tears spilling out over her cheeks. “You’ve no idea—”

  “I know you aren’t.”

  “I am!” Paige nearly screamed. She fought to keep her composure, dropping her sword onto the table with a “clang” as she grasped the edge to support herself. She took a deep, shaky breath and went on.

  “Mother told me to run. She told me to stay safe! I didn’t listen! I tried to help her and she got herself killed because I…if I had just gone, maybe she would have been able to defeat those soldiers and I would have someone here to help me think! And Papa!? If I had given him my rope, he would still be here with me and I wouldn’t be facing all of this alone. It’s my fault they’re both dead and I can’t do anything about any of that!”

  “That’s so much blame to put on your own shoulders,” Robert chided. “You did what you could, and there’s no way you can know the outcome would have been any different.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I distracted Mother and she died. If I had only been more careful and paid more attention, Papa would still be alive. And now Olivian is being hauled off to some dungeon somewhere and I’m the only person she’s got left. I won’t, no—I can’t fail her. Not like I failed our parents.” Paige could feel her tender, aching heart tear apart al
l over again. She began to cry, trying her hardest to hold in the tears. Robert softly patted her on the back again.

  “You couldn’t have gone to get Olivian without being captured yourself. It turned out for the best, because now she has a hope of rescue.”

  Paige nodded, wiping the tears off her face with the sleeve of her new shirt.

  “But,” he added, “you shouldn’t go alone.”

  “Who would go with me? You?”

  “Sure,” Robert replied. “It’s been a little boring here recently, and anyway, I could use a good stretch of the legs. Besides, I might have a few friends that can help.”

  “I’d go,” Broadside offered, raising his hand.

  “I said friends, but you will do, I guess.” Robert smirked. Paige looked from Robert to Broadside and then back to Robert.