The Lord Son's Travels (18 page)

"I'm
going back to sleep," she announced.
 
These new thoughts she pushed to the back of her mind, concentrating on
using those few short hours until dawn for needed rest.

"Good
night again, Elenna," Adrien responded.
 
He smiled at her; rewarded with an answering half-hearted
grin.
 
He watched her return to her
bed, curling up with her cloak as protection against the cool night
breezes.
 
Again the night was
silent, as he returned to his watch.

Chapter 19

The rest
of the ride was uneventful and easy, boosting their spirits as they trotted
into the valley containing their destination.
 
That morning had been rainy and foggy; they had kept their
hoods pulled over their heads as the horses picked their way through the dense
mists lying at their feet.
 
Elenna
and Adrien spoke no more than usual, but with a greater ease than before last
night's revelations.
 
Brendan's
antics were even more amusing for Elenna now that she knew the background of
privilege he had given up to join his friend in his travels.
 
They bantered the whole morning,
teasing Berte for his dislike of the rain.
 
By the time they stopped for the midday meal, the skies were
clearing, and the sun made its first appearance for the day.
 
When they had reached the peak of the
hill and rested before their approach into the valley, the skies were clear and
the heat of the sun had toasted their cloaks and skins back to dry.

Their
cheer disappeared as they paused at the top; the rooftops of several small
towns could be seen from their vantage point.
 
The town they sought had been the largest in the
hollow.
 
They could see clearly
that Nest-of-Ravens had been burned to the ground with only a few chimneys and
stone buildings still standing.
 
Encircling the remains were several farms which had not been touched at
all in the attack but from the look of them had been abandoned by the fearful
residents.
 

They
huddled closer as they entered the town proper.
 
All of a sudden, Elenna was extremely grateful for the
weapon at her side, as she beheld the carnage that replaced the once pleasant
town.
 
The remains of the
townspeople had been removed by the kingdom's soldiers when they discovered the
massacre, but the marks of their passing remained.
 
She winced as they passed streaks of blood on the remaining
wall of the town inn, left untouched by the rain of the morning.
 
The villagers had been spread through
the town working at their morning labors when the attack occurred, Brendan and
Adrien determined.
 
There must have
been no alarm given, or none until it was too late to organize and fight.
 

"Towns
like this," Brendan explained, as they set up temporary camp in the
scarred town green, "being so far from the capital, always set up a defense
plan in case of an attack by brigands.
 
The invasion must have been fast and completely overwhelming."
 
Adrien asked Berte to remain with the
horses, ready for a quick departure if needed.

Elenna
glanced around again.
 
She could
see some chimney smoke from a distant village float over the trees to the
south.
 
Someone must have decided
to remain there despite their fears.
 
"No other nearby town was attacked?
 
Did anyone else at least hear anything?
 
I imagine whatever happened was very
noisy."
 
Adrien heard her question,
and left his examination of the remnants of the inn to join her.
 

"When
we finish our tour of the town, I would like to go to the next village and ask
that very question," he said.
 

Elenna
glanced around again, not very anxious to start a more intensive search.
 
Finally she squared her shoulders and
turned to the main road.
  
The
street was streaked with blood in places here and there where the victims had
fallen.
 
Suddenly she crouched over
at the side of the road, clutching her stomach hoping the nausea would pass.
 
Finally she rose up, gulping in fresh
breaths of air and hoping neither man had seen her reaction.

"Elenna!"
called a man's voice.
 
Behind her
at some distance, Adrien was waving for her to return to the town green.
 
She complied.
 
When she reached him he had knelt down on the ground,
leaning over to study something hidden in the grass.

She
knelt next to him, peering over his arm to the point of his focus.
 
"What do you see?" she
asked.
 

He
pointed to a tiny object in the grass.
 
"I believe this is one of those balls the elf scout had
described.
 
What do you think it
is?"

She
motioned him back so she could move in closer.
 
Now she could see there was a tiny metal sphere about the
size of a marble.
 
Without looking
up, she asked Adrien to bring her the backpack.
 
He rushed to the horses to retrieve the pack then placed it
at her side.
 
As he watched she
pulled out two pens from the front pocket and a pack of tissues.
 
Using the pens like chopsticks, she
managed to pick up the ball, and set it carefully on a tissue.
 
She wrapped up the object and carried
the package back to the remnants of the inn, where she set it delicately in the
bright sun on a remaining section of brick.
 
The men followed, curious about her actions but unwilling to
disrupt her concentration with questions.

"I
wish I had a lab setup here," she muttered to no one in particular.
 
With nothing that could function as a
magnifying lens, she carefully held the sphere by the tissue up to her eyes for
examination.
 
There were scratches
etched into what had been smoothly cast metal.
 
She wiped gently at the ball with the tissue to reveal a
fine powder coating.

Brendan
stepped forward and blocked her light.
 
"What do you see?" he asked eagerly.
 
She looked up, distress evident in her expression.

"Do
you have weapons," she asked, "that project small objects at other
people?"
 
Both men looked
mystified.
 
"Well, it looks
like the Chinese didn't take first place in gunpowder after all then.
 
This kind of weapon is like a bow and
arrow in that it can fire from far away," she explained.
 
"But instead of arrows, it fires
these tiny balls at a very high speed."

Adrien
reached out to take hold of the tissue and its contents. "How does this
travel through the air?
 
An
arrowhead needs the shaft to fly true."

"The
weapon produces so much force that even a round object flies straight."
Elenna explained.
 
He nodded as he
understood her logic.
  
"Swords are no match for people with these weapons."

Adrien's
face hardened.
 
"The stories
are true," he said.

"Now
wait, Adrien!" Brendan exclaimed.
 
"We don't know that for sure yet!
 
She could be mistaken."

"I
don't know what else could have caused the damage those scouts described,"
Elenna responded.
 
She glanced
again at the sphere in his hands. "These objects travel with such force
that they will travel completely through a body, leaving an entry wound in
front and a larger exit wound behind." She grimaced at her own words.
 
The deaths of the brigands weeks ago
had not bothered her very much, but the thought of the way the innocent
villagers had been massacred was making her stomach lurch in horror.

"Then
it could have been a maneuver by the military, testing a new weapon,"
Brendan continued.
 

Adrien
crossed his arms.
 
"The
military would not have massacred a city like this to test a new weapon.
 
Arden is already in distress; a scene such
as this could destroy the King's rule."

"Maybe
that was the plan," Brendan countered.
 
Elenna gripped the tissue from Adrien's hand, wrapped the
ball up tightly, and stashed it for safe-keeping in one of the small pockets in
the front of her backpack.

"I'd
like to study this more later," she told the Lord Son.
 
Adrien nodded in agreement.
 

"Let's
search for more," he suggested.
 
"I would like to keep one as well to bring to the Elf
King."
 

They
studied the brutal scene for another hour, finding a few additional spheres but
no other clues to the horrific crime.
 
As the afternoon passed, Brendan suggested a trip to one of the nearby
towns that still appeared to be occupied.
 
They hurried from the lost city of Nest-of-Ravens, riding east to the
village across the fields.
  
They left their elf companion again waiting patiently for them outside
of the town; the existence of his people was still only a legend to the people
of the valley.
 
As they rode into
the village, groups of residents flocked out of the buildings and gathered
around their mounts shouting friendly greetings.
 
They dismounted in the town square, surprised by the
exuberant welcome.
 
Elenna studied
the faces she saw surrounding the company; many were pale and ill-looking.
 
A few women had apparent burn marks on
their hands.

"My
Lord!" an old man called to Adrien, falling to one knee in a show of
respect.
 
Adrien froze, worried
that he had been somehow recognized by the stranger.
 
He glanced to the rest of the crowd, but when he didn't hear
his true name or title called out, he realized the elderly man had just assumed
he was a local noble come to tour the damage.

"Do
you bring help?" a woman called out shrilly.
 
Elenna turned to her to see a gaunt skeletal remnant of a
girl, her head covered with bald spots and a few remaining tufts of thin
hair.
 
A small boy hid in her skirts,
peeking out at the strangers with a cautious demeanor.

"What
has happened here?" Adrien demanded of the first man.
 
He replied in a raspy thick voice,
"So many of us have fallen sick these last few days.
 
Since the time of the killing in
Nest-of-Ravens."

Elenna
ignored his words and instead focused her attention on the wounds on his face.
 
She moved about the group, examining the
many sores or blotches on the skins of the residents.
 
They glanced curiously at the woman in worn men's clothing
and obviously dyed hair, but allowed her to gently investigate their symptoms.

Brendan
moved next to Adrien and addressed the crowd.
 
"Who committed those killings?"
 
No one spoke at first.
 
Then a young girl, less sickly than the
rest, stepped forward.

"They
were men," she said, smartly stepping out of reach of her father's
grasping hand.
 
He muttered to her
to be silent, but she refused.
 
"No, father, maybe these Lords could help us.
 
They were men dressed in heavy white
cloaks, their faces hid by hoods.
 
I was there with my mother for market day.
 
They rode into town from every which way all at once.
 
Suddenly they pulled out their swords,
and..." her composure dissolved.
 
She leaned back against her father and sobbed.
 
He stroked her hair, and looked up again to the men.
 

"My
wife was killed.
 
Hana escaped and
returned here to warn us.
 
By the
time we men could arm ourselves and reach the town, they were gone."

Adrien
appealed to the group, "No one saw their faces?"
 
All shook their heads.
  
“And they wore white?” he frowned
deeply at their murmured assents.
 
This was one of the universal color rules – only a deceased body
would ever be dressed in white, the color of the Kingdom of the Dead.
 
Several of the old legends said that
the evil from the West had once claimed it as its color as well.

"We
are a peaceful people," the old man shook his head in sorrow.
 
"We do our work and obey our King,
as well as did our neighbors.
 
There was no need for such a terrible deed."

Elenna
returned to her company.
 
"There is never a need for that type of killing," she retorted
as she passed through the crowd.

Brendan
nodded, then returned to question the spokesman. "Have you seen any
strangers pass through perhaps a day or two before?"

The
father dissented.
 
"Only the
Lord of the Southlands."

Adrien
frowned.
 
“I did not know there was
any Lord so named."

"Aye,
I agree an unfamiliar fief.
 
He was
most kind.
 
He brought us a new
grindstone for our corn as a gift.
 
It was sorely needed."