Still Falling: Book 1: Solstice 31 Saga (34 page)

One by one, they moved the cots to the warm room.

Barcus disappeared for a few minutes but was back at Kat's cot doing something out of Lea’s view as another cot was carried out. When the last of the cots was out and the patients settled, Lea went over to Barcus as he was covering Kat's back again with a clean dressing.

Before Lea could say a word, Barcus said, “Lea, this is Olias. He lives here and knows where everything is. If you need something specific, ask him.” Olias nodded to her with respect, something that had never happened to her before.

Barcus continued. “Kat will begin to run a fever soon, and it will continue for a few days. Don't worry though. It will mean she is getting better. Olias, make sure everyone gets water. Kat will wake soon and she will be very thirsty. It is very important that she drinks water.”

“Lord Keeper Barcus, I'm sorry, but she will never awaken. I have seen this before...” Lea tried to explain but was interrupted.

“Don't call me that.” He had not meant to snap at her. She fell to her knees, trembling before he could stop her. Her forehead was on the floor.

“I'm sorry, my Lord.” Her voice shook.

He could not stop himself. He reached down, lifted her up and set her on her feet by her arms. She was light as a feather.

He smiled and said, “Please. Call me Barcus. Just Barcus.”

She was shocked into silence.

Barcus looked over his shoulder. Everyone in the room had stopped and stared at them. Patients and caregivers. Just then they heard a small voice, barely a whisper.

“I'm so thirsty.”

Kat was already awake.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

The Fourth Day

“All data was precisely deleted during this period.”

--Solstice 31 Incident Investigation Testimony Transcript: Emergency Module Digital Forensics Report. Independent Tech Analysis Team.

<<<>>>

Barcus woke as Po tried to slide out of bed without disturbing him. He caught her by the braid.

She froze.

She rolled toward him, first rolling the braid around her neck followed by his hand and arm until she was nose to nose with him.

“Good morning, my Lord. May I serve you?” She knew he would not tolerate that sentence to be spoken in the presence of another person. He kissed her.

As if in punctuation, they heard a hammer fall on the anvil in the first tap of a rhythm that would last all day.

“We slept late,” Barcus said

“We were up late.” She had a wicked smile. “The late bath, was an excellent idea though.”

The anvil had a cadence. Ding... ding, ding. Pause. Ding... ding, ding. Pause.

“This is a new smile on you. What is it?” Po asked.

“This place is alive again. The sounds. Those boys will make nails and laugh all day long as they work.” He looked to the window. “They will sharpen tools for people and learn something new from Smith.”

Po added, “They work with full bellies and a good night’s sleep, on a clean bed, in safety. These people have never felt safe before in their entire lives. You have done more for them in the week that they have been here than anyone has done for them in their entire lives. Come with me and I will show you.”

They slid out of bed and dressed quickly.

A dozen people were in the kitchens when they looked in. All six of the cauldrons had fires beneath them. The smell of porridge and fresh breads made his mouth water.

They had finally stopped kneeling and bowing to him whenever he appeared. The slight nod and smile held all the weight and honor possible to convey. He took a bowl and served himself some oatmeal with apples, spices and honey. The oatmeal was spiced in a way he had grown to love. He held out a mug for tea, knowing that even he would get his hand slapped now if tried to pour his own.

He sat with Po at a long, well-scrubbed table, across from Smith, who was looking intently at a scroll that was trying to roll itself up. Barcus set his tea mug down on a corner just as Smith had set his own mug on the other corner.

“What's this?” Barcus asked, looking at a detailed drawing upside down.

“It is the northeastern quadrants arc. We are planning the repairs to the destroyed section. We are dismantling an old barn today that will give us the lumber we need first to stabilize, then rebuild the section.”

“There are enough rooms for everyone for now. They are far better than what we had. But I prefer that everyone have a room above ground. It will keep them healthier.”

“How can I help?” Barcus asked.

Smith would never get used to this question.

“You can arrange to obtain these blocks from the quarry.” Smith pointed to a list of dimensions that were actually block sizes and quantities. Smith still had a hard time believing the things Olias had told him, about Ash and Par mostly.

Just glancing at the list captured it. Em indicated in his HUD that these blocks were in the current inventory at the quarry and whoever made the list had obviously already visited the site.

“These will be used as the new footers here and here,” Smith indicated on the drawing. The automatic scan and render in his HUD revealed the scale was amazingly close for having been drawn freehand. “Once they are set here, we can shore up this corner and save the rest of the roof from collapsing here.” He pointed on the map and then turned to look out and up at the precarious roofline, far above and at the other end of the keep.

“Then we can fix the roof and begin to restore all three floors. Now is the best time, before the spring planting. We are going to be hard pressed this first year.”

“Good morning, My L...” The speaker stopped. “Good morning, Barcus.” She held her own bowl and mug. She was still waiting to be acknowledged before she sat down.

“Good morning, Lea,” Barcus said. Echoes from Po and Smith came at the same time.

“How are things?” Barcus asked, knowing that she was here specifically to deliver her daily report on the status of the infirmary and its patients. She was still skittish about eating with men.

Barcus dug into his oatmeal then. It was finally cool enough.

“We still have eleven beds.” He was still not used to the way they referred to patients. “Kat is up and helping me with the others.” Her voice caught. Barcus pretended not to notice. A glance at Po showed her paying additional attention to her breakfast.

“I don't know what to say, Barcus. She...was the worst of them all. The lashings are all closed and nearly healed now. Sixty lashes.” Lea’s tears fell freely again. Barcus did not look away now.

“Lea, you will never see those kinds of wounds here, ever again.” A sob slipped from her. Barcus continued, “How's Ulric?”

Like magic, she laughed. Face wet with tears, her hand went to her mouth finally, to cover a snort. Everyone laughed then because they all seemed to know about Ulric's hemorrhoid. Both hands covered her face now, as her shoulders rocked, in tears and laughter with them. She produced a handkerchief from somewhere and dried her tears finally and wiped her nose.

“He'll live,” she said with a smile.

She also drew out a small pouch.

She set it on the table and slid it to Barcus.

“I can't take this,” Lea said.

Barcus leaned back from it like it might explode.

“And why would you say that?” Only Po could hear a touch of anger in his voice.

“I do not deserve it. You give me so much already. More than I ever had. Or deserve.”

It was Smith that spoke first. “Lea, there are no slaves here.”

It was Po that picked up the pouch and placed it back in her hand. “You earned it.”

“But I...you already... This has been the first week of my life that I have not known hunger. The first winter week I was never cold. I have clothes and a room and...hope. You need not pay me.”

“Listen to me. You will take this pay, just like everyone else that intends to live and work here. But we expect you to earn it. And you have. Your food and the roof over your head are also part of the deal. Part of your pay.”

“But the food. It's the same as...it's what you eat.” Her chin began to tremble again.

“I like the food,” Barcus said, as he shifted to common tongue. “Do you like the work?” The question caught her off guard.

“Yes.”

“Do you do a good job?” Barcus asked.

“Yes, but...”

“We expect your best work. Can we have it? That's part of the deal, too. Not the work of a slave.” His eyes fell to her chest where he knew she held the brand. “We can't afford that.”

“And only half of your waking hours,” Po said this. “The other half belongs to you.”

“And every fourth day is yours,” Smith added.

“Have you taken a day yet?”

“I have never had one before. I don't know what I would do.”

“Start by sleeping as late as you want,” Po began. “Then eat, all you want.”

“I like to walk, to look at something beautiful,” Smith said.

“The top of the tower with a cup of tea is very nice,” Po added.

“I like to clean my rooms. I do a little more to make it my home,” Smith added.

“Spend time with friends or family,” Po continued.

“Make something beautiful,” Grady added this.

“Have some wine. Sing. I hear you have a beautiful voice,” Ulric said. “Olias has set up a tavern in the tower. The portcullis machine room.

“Wine is the only thing to spend our money on around here anyway!”

“When did this happen?” Barcus asked, amused.

“The day the repair crew finished fixing the portcullis. At the end of the day, Olias showed up with a keg of ale, and we sat about laughing. Rose brought up a tray of food, and the next thing we knew, we were laughing and crying and singing.

“The next night it spontaneously happened again.

“Before we knew it, Olias had the tavern set up. Right there in the machine room, warning us that we'd be buying him drinks for a month to pay him back. You see, it was there he told us we were to all be paid the next day.

“Rose and May have taken it on as the place to go for cold meals after hours. It frees up the night kitchen crew from distractions.

“And they keep people from drinking too much!”

“Except Keeper Ulric!” They all laughed for a moment and fell into comfortable silence.

“So, Lea. You will take your pay and spend it on whatever you like. Or save it.” It wasn't an order or demand. It was a simple statement.

The pouch disappeared back into her skirts.

***

While everyone was told it was eight hours on, eight hours off and eight hours rest, they constantly worked during daylight. If not on their assigned job, they worked on improving their homes, the formal gardens or other things they enjoyed. The Portcullis Tavern had lots of volunteers to assist with construction. Rose fell into running it full-time, and May stayed on as well. Rose also made The Abbey's work schedule for everyone. She enforced it as well. Everyone was made to take a “fourth day,” even Barcus and Po.

***

They took their first day off together. They met Par on the quarry road just after dawn. They brought a basket of food.

“So, where are we really going?” Po asked.

“I promised I'd tell you everything. It's easier to show you.” They were sitting down in Par’s first row.

“Par, full open canopy,” Barcus said.

The enclosure seemed to disappear. Par was moving in glide mode, smooth as could be, through a sky that was bright with high clouds.

“We are going to a place I call Foxden. You will also get to meet another friend. His name is Stu,” Barcus said as she marveled at the view.

“Is this friend like Em?” she asked

“Yes and no. Let's say they are related. Stu has been making a few things for me,” Barcus said.

“Stu?” Po asked.

“Yes. His name is Stu.”

“What was he making?” Po asked.

“Hinges and tool handles, for starters. We have thirty-six ax heads with no handles. Axes seem to be our most useful tool, and real weapons.”

“Why do we need weapons?” Po asked.

“To be free. If we cannot defend ourselves, we are just pretending not to be slaves.”

“Tell Olias. I think he has been salvaging weapons. Crossbows, swords, arrows, bows. He has burned bodies, not weapons,” Po said.

“Em, you must know,” Barcus said

“Yes. He has nearly 400 cached away. About 300 are in The Abbey already. Only a few of the people know how to use them,” Em said out loud.

“Add a stocked armory to Olias's task list, and an archery range, maybe between the western wall and the orchards,” Barcus added.

“You know it's forbidden,” Po said.

“I now believe that living above the gorge is forbidden,” Barcus said. “Did you know that the Salterferry Bridge has been burned?”

Po gasped. “What?”

“That bridge was the only easy way to the south.”

“Or to the north, FROM the south?” Barcus said, with a raised eyebrow.

“Won't the High Keeper wonder what became of all his mercenaries?” she asked.

“He won't care about them. He will only care about the Keepers he lost. Maybe not even then,” came his caustic reply.

***

They arrived at Foxden well before noon.

It had been months since Barcus had been there, and the spring did not seem as warm here as in The Abbey. The lake was still iced over though it was much thinner at the center. If he had not known the shelter was there, they would never have seen it.

The wind was constant from the west this morning. There was no snow on the rocky beach in front of the outcropping of stone that concealed Foxden.

They unloaded their supplies and luggage, and Par quickly moved away. It was almost like she was uncomfortable in the barren open.

Barcus opened the door and immediately lit the fire that was already laid in the large hearth. It was dry and smelled a bit dusty to Po as she entered.

The contrast between the hard rustic nature of the shelter and the beauty of the fine rugs and furnishings was so well balanced, it stopped her short.

Barcus looked up at her and smiled.

“I expected...a Tracker’s hole,” Po said. “A bed out of the rain.”

“It is that.” Barcus stood and went out to retrieve the cask of water and other supplies.

When he returned and closed the door, Po was still standing in the same place. Slowly, she turned back to him and unclasped her cloak as he opened the shutters on the large windows to either side of the door. The room was warming.