Brotherhood Saga 03: Death (49 page)

With a short nod, Nova freed the paperweights from the parchment, then passed it over for Katarina’s approval.

It took but a few moments for her to r
ead the entirety of the letter. “It’s good,” she said, returning it to Nova to allow the ink to dry. “A lot better than I could have done, if you ask me.”

“I tried my best,” Nova sighed, tempted to blow on the ink, but not willin
g to risk smudging it. “I guess as soon as this dries, I’ll track down a guard and see if he can send it out with a messenger in the next caravan to Felnon.”

“How long do you think it
’ll take to get there?”

“A week, maybe two. I don
’t know. It’s better it goes now then later. Honestly, though, it should’ve gone out a lot sooner than this. I’m surprised we didn’t get something sooner.”

“Maybe he sent something to Odin and it was left in his and the king
’s room,” Katarina offered.

“Maybe, but there
’s not a whole lot we can do about it if that’s the case.”

With a brief nod, Katarina leaned forward, wrapped her arms around Nova
’s shoulders, then bowed her head into his neck, the rasp of her breath fading in and out enough to stir the faint hairs on his collarbone. Had it been a different moment, the gesture would have been welcome, even comforting, but at the most, it felt like he were being dealt a blow that he could not recover from.

“Katarina,” Nova said.

“Yes?” she asked.

“I
’m sorry I left you alone for all these years.”

“Why are you bringing this up?”

“Because it’s hard for me to believe that it’s taken me this long to realize just how good of a person you are,” he said, reaching up to set his hand over hers. “You could have left me while I was gone all those years across the country, overseas, in the mountains… you could have found another man who would have given you everything you could’ve ever asked for and more.”

“No I couldn
’t.”

“You could
’ve. I know it.”

“I don
’t.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because everything I could ever want is right here,” she said, pressing both hands against his chest. “I’ve only ever wanted to be with you, Nova. Ever since we met… as embarrassing as that first time was… you’ve always treated me like I was one of the most important people in the world.”

“You are.”

“You say that, but… well…”

“Well
… what?” he frowned. “Are you not telling me something?”

“I sometimes feel like I
’m less of a person than I should be,” she shrugged. “Maybe it’s because I got married so young—which, I should say, I don’t regret in the least—or maybe it’s because I don’t know the world as well as I should. Sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in a box because the people who run the world have put me there. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“Yeah,” Nova said. “I feel the same way sometimes.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Everybody assumes I
’m stupid just because I’m from Bohren and worked most of my life in the fields, but… well… I may not be the smartest guy around, but I’m not the stupidest either, and I know for a fact that I’m good at a few things.”

“What
’s that?”

“A good friend, a good husband… at least, I
’d like to think so… hopefully even a good father.”

“You
’ll be a great father, Nova. Don’t worry about that.”

“I
’m trying not to, Katarina, but when I think about the situation we’re in and just what is going on, I start to wonder whether or not I’ll follow in my father’s footsteps and leave you and my son behind.”

“Son?” Katarina frowned. “Did you—“

“I saw it,” Nova said, turning his head up to look at his face. “In a vision.”

“We
’re having a baby boy?”

“Hope I didn
’t ruin the surprise.”

Katarina threw herself across the room and squealed in joy.

Nova smiled.

Seeing his wife happy, as simple and plain as that happened to be, was enough to warm his heart so much that he felt, for just one brief moment, an insight into the world and just how it operated.

Happiness was, as many would have said, a pleasure, one that did not have to be worked toward in order to be experienced.

While he knew nothing of his future or what was to come past the winter
, he knew that, regardless of whatever was about to happen, things would work out for the better.

He closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and took one long, deep breath.

Everything would work out, in time.

He knew it would.

It rose just as the snow began to fall fresh from the sky and created a sense of justice that Nova almost found impossible. Standing before
it in his winter wear, his arm around his pregnant wife and a hand dangling at his side, he looked upon the place that he and his family would now call home as though it were suggesting a life or death sentence were he not to take its offer. Grand, it seemed, in its two stories, and careful, it was, built from the strongest of plans. He imagined between the walls there was mud or clay insulation, selected carefully to protect those within from winter, and though it was likely to not have any furniture until a shipment was ordered from one of the bordering towns, that did not matter, for they finally had a place to call home.

“It took us a while,” Carmen said, peeking her head out from
the open threshold to look at them, “but we finally got it finished.”

“It
’s beautiful,” Katarina said. Tears in her eyes, she stepped forward, descended to her knees, then opened her arms as the Dwarf ran into her embrace. “Thank you, Carmen.”

“There
’s no need to thank me, beautiful. Just doing my job, and right now, that’s to keep you and your family safe, especially this little ‘un here.” She patted Katarina’s stomach as if to emphasize her point.

With a laugh and a smile on her face, Katarina rose, turned to face Nova, then threw herself into his arms in one mighty leap.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, bowing her face into Nova’s chest. “Isn’t it, honey?”

“More than beautiful,” Nova said, looking over his wife
’s shoulder and down at the Dwarf before them. “It’s amazing.”

Carmen offered a single wink, one which Nova returned immediately.

“What’re we going to do about supplies?” Ketrak asked, stepping forward to press a hand against the outside of the house. “Are the other towns bringing them in, or will we have to rely on the castle?”

“So far as I know, the castle will be handing out provisions to the people who will start taking shelter in these homes,” Carmen said, turning to face the gargantuan home before her. “
I imagine the king will ask the other towns to bring in support as well, though I’m not necessarily sure when exactly that will happen.”

“We
’ll be fine,” Nova said, setting his arm across his wife’s shoulders as she turned to look at the inside of the house. “Besides—I’m sure Ournul won’t mind if we take some of the blankets and pillows to make ourselves comfortable.”

“Here
’s to hoping some supplies arrive soon,” Carmen said, raising her hand to clap first Ketrak’s hand, then Nova’s and Katarina’s. “Well, guys, I hate to leave you, but I should probably get back to work. We need to put up the rest of these houses before the snow gets any worse.”

“What
’ll you do if it does?” Katarina frowned.

“Move the snow and keep working. Not much more we can do, is there?”

With a slight shrug, Katarina offered Carmen a slight goodbye before stepping toward the house. She stood there for what seemed like an eternity, looking inside the open doorway, before she turned to look at Nova and her father.

While Katarina seemed everything but sad, Nova couldn
’t help but wonder what lay below the surface, placating her conscience and shrouding her outlook on life.

It
’s all right,
he thought, offering a slight nod, then a smile when her eyes fell to the slight covering of snow at their feet.
Everything’s going to be just fine, honey. Don’t you worry.

“Shall we go in?” Katarina asked.

They need not reply.

Nova and Ketrak stepped through the front door.

For all intents, purposes, needs and distractions, things should have been fine—perfect, even, in light of their situation and the fact that they no longer seemed constricted to the ties in which they
’d been bound. However, as much of the case as that seemed and as little doubt that could have been in any of their minds, Nova found himself feeling less than stellar at the fact that here, in the now—within the confines of their new home, flames burning and quilts bearing upon his shoulders—it seemed he lived without punishment, persisted without need and continued in life with little consequence.

No more than fou
r weeks ago, a friend had died. In nearly that same time, another had fled to a place he could never even dream of being.

Come on,
he thought, bowing his head.
Don’t let this get to you—not now, not when you should be happy.

It would have been clearly apparent if his happiness had transcended his mind and allowed his body to reciprocate—so clear, in fact, that he would have been bursting with joy: a feeling that, while not particularly noticeable at times, could be seen in plain details. The smile, the laugh, the look in one
’s eyes, the tremble in their body—these things, and more, could be described in detail without having to resort to means literary or poetic. A man’s smile could rule the world, his laugh the kingdom, his eyes the shepherd, and his beautiful yet somber tremble could have delivered into the masses a sense of peace and justice about situations so harsh and severe that they need not worry about locking their doors at night or leaving their windows open, for it was this king, his laugh, his smile and his eyes that would protect them from all evil, all harm, and all consequence that could have ruled the world in that very moment when they closed their eyes at night and pretended to go to sleep.

In happiness, there need not be any harm in the fact that things would go wrong.

Outside, as the snow continued to fall in even twinkles resembling something of shooting stars, the world continued on without any indication of hardship. Men still toiled beneath the sky, planting planks in place and sealing them with nails, and stray dogs continued to pander around fireplaces for food, while lone women continued to assist in preparation for removing the refugees from Dwaydor into their new homes. These were the things Nova saw when he turned his eyes up to look out the windowpanes, and these were the things that seemed all the more ready to rule his consciousness should he decide to allow thoughts of the past and friends to overwhelm him.

How did, he wondered, one move on with their life in the face of so much tragedy?

How did I move on from my father?

The question could have been a force struck into him by a man
’s boot or even his fist, ironed and clawed, as it weighed about just as much importance upon his conscience as the death and disappearance of his friend. It would, however, have done nothing to impact him in ways he had remembered some eight years ago—in ways that, fickle as they may be, had once showered his body like spiders crawling across every surface of his skin, had once doused his mind in flame and set his innards ablaze, for the world had seemed cruel, harsh and violent. To take away such a man was to destroy a community in which his name had been sewn into the very earth, the food on their plates, the sinews within their hearts. Patrus Eternity had once been a grand man, a grand farmer and, most importantly, a grand father, one of which Nova had lived with throughout his entire life after the death of two biological parents, those of which had been attacked in cold blood on the side of the road to rob and strip them of all their earthly possessions.

Were he to ask himself how he moved on from his father
’s death, Nova could only imagine one word coming from his mouth.

Time.

Time—the principal matter in which the world operated, much like mathematics or numbers. The shades in the sky and the hue of the sun could have demonstrated an effort in which a series of set equations could have been passed. A day began by the grand fireball in the sky rising in the east, then ended when it set in the west; a cycle transpired when the moon, so great and luminous, first ebbed its way from just a sliver to a full, round figurehead; mortal existence, so it was told, began first with conception, started with birth, transpired through life and then ultimately ended in death. It was these things that bound the world together, that shaped it so in the ways it did and allowed all things to live life as they pleased. With this time came principal that could mark some in ways deemed indescribable and therefore unpredictable in the face of adversity.

For him to move on from his pain—for him to ultimately seal his past behind and concentrate on his future—he would have to look only toward the sky to see just what it was he had to do to recover.