Ah, you guys are so awesome, but patience, m'dearies. Your questions – and many others – will be answered in the next episode of Soap. No, wait, in the next chapter… Well, some of them, anyway. But seriously now, I'm pretty much done tweaking and fussing with this next batch of already written chapters and will post them as quickly as I can. The last 4-ish chapters, or so, I hope to complete very, very soon. And here we go!
Tosia didn't hear the latch of the door but John did, his eyes snapping in the direction of the rattling sound. The door was pushed open with a squawk of worn hinges, and a blast of icy afternoon air chilled the room. He shivered from the sudden cold and tensed at the sight of the men on the other side of threshold.
John clambered to his feet, bumping into the old woman's chair. Tosia jolted awake, a question poised on her lips. She saw John towering over her, his body tensed and wary, and she followed his gaze.
"Silas… Urvan," she breathed out, startled, as she looked at the men who had just stepped uninvited into her home. Behind them were three others, two of whom she recognized from the week before. "Have you forgotten such proprieties as knocking?"
Four of the men had the sense to look chastened. Silas only folded his arms over his burly chest.
"I see you have not taken our advice," he said with a jerk of his chin in John's direction.
"And what advice was that?" Tosia countered, slowly rising to her feet, taking hold of John's forearm to steady herself. Despite her words, she knew full well to what Silas was referring. There was undisguised menace in his voice and demeanor, and it sent a cold wave of fear through her.
"The storm has finally broken," Silas said almost casually, as though he hadn't heard her. "Now would be a good time as any to bring him back to his kind."
Tosia stared at the man, stunned. "You cannot be serious."
"I am most serious."
"And how do you propose to do that?" Tosia's fingers tightened involuntarily on John's arm. She could feel his muscles bunching under her fingers, but he didn't pull away from her. In fact, he stepped a little closer, almost protectively. "Has another tribe come knocking at your door, looking for him, Silas?" Tosia questioned with an upraised eyebrow, hoping some levity would diffuse the air of tension, of impending violence. "Have you gone exploring during the past week, despite the storm, and come upon another village that I have not yet heard tell of?"
"Do not talk foolishness, old woman," Silas growled. "We are sending him back to his kind before more of them come here! They have come before, and they will come again, demanding food and shelter. You have witnessed this yourself! We do not need or want any more mouths to feed, nor do we want to attract the attention of the Wraith!"
"And you believe that this one lost, injured man will bring all of that down upon us?" Tosia stole a glance at John who was watching Silas with narrowed eyes. "If that is so, then you are more of a fool than I suspected."
"That is enough!" Silas shouted. "We stay amongst ourselves, we do not venture far beyond the village and the Wraith stay away. That is how it has always been."
"No it is not!" Tosia protested, raising a hand in a placating gesture. She had to try to talk some sense into the man, and not rally him any further. "You do not understand, Silas, it is not that simple—"
"Yesterday, Magda died of fever, only two days after the death of Daria's newborn, and the winter has only started."
Tosia blinked, shock coursing through her at the news of her old friend's death. Magda, gone! She had visited with Magda only last week, the very day Tosia had found John in the ruins… And Daria, to have lost her first child… The poor girl was the great-grand daughter of one of the woman banished along with Tosia so many years back. Daria was only fifteen years old. Too young to have to face such terrible grief.
Silas's rough growl startled her from her thoughts. "We are taking him with or without your consent, Tosia. The time for discussion has long past."
Tosia held tight to John's arm and decided right there and then that the fools would have to go through her first if they wanted to make good on their threat. She strained to see past Silas's tall frame and the other men to the still open doorway.
"Where is Kornel?" she demanded, suddenly noticing the man's absence. "Surely he did not agree to this?" When Silas and the others didn't answer, Tosia nodded, understanding, and the realization was a chilling one. "I see. You are doing this of your own accord, then. Too much the impetuous cowards to await Kornel and the other elders' decision."
"Kornel is the coward," Silas replied with a sneer. "He would not make a decision, and so we made it for him. Now step aside, Tosia. Or is this stranger you are so determined to protect such a coward himself that he needs to hide behind an old woman?"
Tosia straightened and positioned herself in front of John, ignoring the childish jibe for what it was. "If you do this, then you are condemning this man to die. You realize this, don't you? All of you?" Tosia paused to look each of the men in the eye. "He will freeze to death out there. Will that bring back those we have lost? Are you willing to commit murder for the sake of a few extra bites of bread in your bellies?"
"His kind will come for him," Silas stated.
"Is that what you have told these men to justify your actions?"
"It is the truth!"
"It is not!" Tosia shouted. "John has been here for weeks now! If 'his kind' were coming for him, then they would have come long ago! Listen to what you are saying! All of you are blaming an innocent man for that which has plagued us for decades. Will you make him your scapegoat? A sacrifice to imaginary deities? Are you willing to return to such savagery?!"
The other men exchanged nervous, shame-faced glances, but Tosia paid them no mind. Never had she thought her own people capable of this… this madness. This mindless, dangerous, superstitious fear.
One of the other men, Torin, spoke up. "Let us not make this more difficult than it has to be," he said quietly, shuffling his feet, clearly uncomfortable. He was scarcely out of his teens, but still old enough to know better, Tosia thought angrily.
"This does not have to be difficult, at all, boy," she glowered at the young man. "Each of you leave now, and we will not speak of this again."
Silas narrowed his eyes, as though deciding what to do next. Tosia refused to step away from John, and the men seemed reluctant to show any display of force. She wondered who would make the first violent move. She worried that Lasca and Antal would arrive home from the village at the worst possible moment and spur the men into startled action.
In the end, John made the decision for them when he suddenly darted away from her. Tosia would never be certain what his intentions had been, for he'd only taken a few steps in the direction of the door when Silas and one of the other men lunged forward and grabbed his arms. John immediately began struggling, trying to pull his arms free and furiously kicking at their legs.
The other three rushed in. One of them snatched hold of one of John's hands, twisting hard. John yelped in pain and thrashed against them, fighting as though he knew his very life depended on it. His foot connected with Silas's shin, and the man bellowed. Silas punched at John's head, but John managed to dodge the blow.
One of the men slipped in behind him and snatched at John's hair, yanking his head back, and he cried out in pain and protest. He kicked again, and Torin darted to the side, grabbing hold of John's boot and twisting his foot, throwing him off-balance. John would have fallen had his upper arms not been so tightly held. Suddenly all his weight was being supported by his assailants and the only weapons left to him were his legs. John lashed his other foot out at Torin, connecting with the young man's lower belly. Torin gasped and doubled over, his hands flying to his middle. Then a fist came from nowhere and slammed into John's cheekbone. He sagged in the men's grip, stunned by the blow.
Tosia grabbed a pan from the block in the kitchen and swung it down on one man's back. He twisted about with a yowl, snatching at her arm, and without intending to, yanked her right into the fray. She staggered into John, her ankle twisting, pain radiating up her legs, hips and to her side. The collision seemed to revive John, and with a furious growl, he yanked one of his arms free and wrapped it over the old woman's shoulders. He curled his body around hers, straining against the men holding him and shoving at him in an attempt to protect her.
"Stop this!"
Urvan's sudden, loud shout broke through like a gunshot in a crowd, and the other men froze. Tosia leaned against John's side, gasping for breath, her hand held tight to her ribs. Urvan shoved his way forward and helped her regain her footing, gently pulling her from John's protective one-armed embrace and moving her away from the other men.
Tosia was too surprised to protest or resist.
Silas stared in astonishment at Urvan, adrenaline still spurring him on. He yanked John's left arm behind his back in a hold so tight that his shoulder was in danger of dislocating. John groaned, tried to twist free, and Torin quickly grabbed his other arm.
"We all agreed that there would be no violence!" Urvan shouted. "That he would not be harmed! Have you all taken leave of your senses?" Urvan stepped back from them, his homely features filled with an odd mixture of fury and disgust.
Shaking, Tosia glared at Silas. "Urvan is right. You have all gone completely mad! Now let him go!"
Silas and the others only glared back at her.
"He will listen to me," Tosia implored, furious at the pleading note of surrender to her voice, but she knew this was a battle she could not win. "He will come with me, if I ask him to. Do you understand what I'm saying?" she spat, her furious gaze fixed on Silas and Torin. "Now let him go, you despicable cowards!"
Urvan looked to the men. "Do as she says!' he snapped.
Reluctantly, Silas released his grip. Torin followed a moment later. John staggered a few steps away from them, breathing hard. He pulled his left arm forward with a wince and held his hands out in front in him, prepared to fight for all he was worth.
"John…" Tosia called to him, keeping her voice soft, like she had done that first night with him. "It is all right. No one will hurt you anymore. It is all right."
His eyes flitted around her. He sidestepped her, stealing a glance at the open door, but the other men placed themselves in front of it, blocking his only exit. Stumbling backward toward the hearth, John gritted his teeth, panting with exertion. He clenched his bandaged fists and braced himself for what would come next.
Tosia followed his steps, slowly reaching for his wrist. John's gaze darted from Tosia to the men, but he allowed her to touch him. Tosia gently pulled his hand to her. She saw that it had started bleeding again, bright red staining the cloth, and anger rushed through her at that. She could feel him shaking from both adrenaline and fear. Reaching up with her other hand, she gently rubbed his shoulder.
"It is all right now, John," she repeated. "Shall we go outside? The storms seemed to have stopped. Shall we go out and take a look for ourselves?"
John's gaze flicked in her direction then stayed on the other men who stood still, tensely waiting and watching their every move. Tosia could all but read the confusion on John's face. He scowled as his eyes fixed upon Silas, his fists tightened. Tosia reached up, and with both hands, took gentle hold of John's chin and turned his face so he could look only at her.
"John, listen to me," she said firmly. "You must come with me, and you must trust me. Can you do that?"
She wasn't certain if he understood her, but some of the tension left his body, and he allowed her to slowly and carefully steer him toward the door. She helped him put on his battered green jacket, then pulled Antal's old, worn cloak over it, tucking it snug around his neck. She then reached for her own cloak.
"What are you doing, old woman?" Silas demanded.
"What does it look like?" Tosia snapped right back. "I am coming with you."
Silas shook his head. "No… that is—"
"If you are going to do this to him, Silas, then I am coming with you."
Silas opened his mouth to protest, but Urvan silenced him with a firm shake of his head. Tosia marveled at the man's sudden display of backbone. She only wished he would do more. That he would talk some sense into the others, but that was useless dreaming at best. While pulling on her cloak, she ensured to stay as close to John as she could, never once taking her eyes off Silas's menacing form.
Taking firm hold of John's wrist, Tosia led him outside, slowing her steps to match his uncertain ones. The afternoon air was startlingly cold, but as Silas had said, the storm had passed. The sky was a murky, dull white and she could see only a speck of sun. A mule stood tethered to the fence that Gaereth had built so long ago. Tosia, in disgust, surmised that the men had planned to throw John over the animal's back and haul him away like so much unwanted garbage.
Urvan unhitched the beast and they began walking. Still holding fast to John's arm, Tosia stumbled in the deep snow, her breaths harsh rasps around her. Urvan offered to boost her onto the mule's back, but she shook her head in refusal. He hesitantly laid a hand on her shoulder, and Tosia jerked sharply away from him.
"Do not touch me," she hissed, and Urvan nodded, dropping his head. When she stumbled again, a half-mile later, John had the presence of mind to pull her up and kept her arm tightly grasped in his.
As they neared the cliffs, Tosia had to swallow hard to be able to speak around her racing heart. She knew she was far too old for such strenuous activity, but like most things in her life, she had no choice but to follow through.
"That is where I found him," she said in a rasp, pointing at a deep furrow in the cliff face. "And that is as far as we will go."
Silas shook his head. "It is not far enough from the village."
"If you are going to stay true to your word and that you truly believe John's people will come for him, then we will leave him exactly where I found him. Or are you a liar, as well as a coward, Silas?"
Silas's back stiffened, but the other men were watching him carefully now, with unspoken questions on their faces. They may have believed Silas for a time, but Tosia's word, as elder, still counted for something, she realized with stark relief.
"Fine. That is where we will leave him," Silas said with a shrug, as though it were his idea all along.
Tosia could feel droplets of chilled moisture in the air and knew the snow would soon begin to fall once more. With each step they took, her heart sank a little further and despair threatened to take hold. John was still weak and running a fever, she knew. No… he would very likely not last the night out here.
They had to climb a short incline to reach the crevasse. Tosia could taste blood in her mouth, but there was nothing to be done about that. John followed willingly, but slowly, gazing up at the dark opening in the rock.
The others stood back as Tosia led John into the small cave. It wasn't much wider than he was tall and only a few feet deep, but it would at least offer him some shelter, as it had sheltered her those first few terrible days here. Tosia leant against the rocky surface to catch her breath, and a wave of dizziness poured over her so suddenly, she had to sit down before she fell. Momentum caused her to yank on John's arm, and he awkwardly sat down beside her, watching her with an expression so close to concern, she wondered how aware he was of his surroundings, of the danger he was in.
"It is all right, John," Tosia whispered to him, patting his arm. "I am simply much too old for this. Do you remember me telling you of this place?"
As if in response, John looked away from her to gaze at the markings scratched on the stone wall. He raised a bloodied hand, hesitated a moment, then ran his fingers over the fading marks. With a sharp piece of crystallized rock, Tosia had made those marks herself, so many years ago. Her name and the number of days she had hidden and despaired here. She had also drawn a rough outline of a bird, as though longing for her lost freedom, indelibly capturing the creature as surely as she was bound to this place.
"All right, Tosia," Silas spoke up, impatient, making her jump. "We will be heading back now."
"Fine, take your leave then," Tosia said, waving a dismissive hand in the man's direction. She couldn't help but run her own cold fingers over those three marks. Three days she had waited, and then the others, and Gaereth had come. She remembered feeling both immense relief and remorse over their arrival, their equal sentence.
"We will not leave here without you, old woman," Silas said slowly. "Despite our words, we are still family, Tosia."
Tosia briefly closed her eyes, shook her head and silently damned the man to every version of hell she'd heard tell of. "You are no kin of mine, Silas."
Silas's face colored with either anger, or shame, and he held out his hand. "Let us go now."
Gritting her teeth, and ignoring the man, Tosia pulled herself to a kneeling position. She shuffled close to John on the pretense of pulling his cloak tighter around his neck. "Stay here, John. Do you understand me?" she whispered, close to his ear. John only kept studying the marks on the stone, his bloodied fingers now tracing over the etched bird; its scratched-in wings, the light, graceful curve of tail feathers, staining the lines with red.
"John!" she hissed, placing her hands on either side of his face. "Look at me!" He resisted a moment, then allowed her to turn his face toward hers. His right eye was rapidly blackening and swelling, and Tosia cursed Silas once more.
"Fly," John said in a soft, pensive voice, straining to look back at the bird, his fingers still pressed to the stone, and Tosia wondered why it so captivated his attention.
"John, please listen to me," she implored, speaking low and close to his ear and staring into his eyes, willing him to understand. "Stay here, out of the wind. I will come back for you soon as I can, but you must stay here."
He blinked, his gaze shifting from her eyes to her mouth, his brows pulling together as he struggled to comprehend the urgency of her words. Tosia could only hope he understood enough to stay put, to try to stay warm. She pulled his hand away from the wall, tucked the folds of the too-long sleeves over his fingers, drew his hood up around his neck and head again. With a heavy heart, Tosia reluctantly pulled herself to her feet. The other men had the good sense not to offer her a hand. She turned away, unable to look at John anymore.
Then she heard a soft, "S-stay…"
Tosia turned back to John in surprise, but he was looking at the marks on the stone once more. She was uncertain if he'd meant that he would, in fact, stay put or if he was asking her not to leave him alone. Maybe it was a little of both.
On the way back to the village, darkness already creeping over the sky, bone-deep fatigue overtook her, and Tosia reluctantly allowed Urvan to help her onto the mule's back. She was exhausted in both body and spirit, and she needed to save her strength for what was still to come.
As they neared her home, Tosia could hear Antal calling for her. With effort, Tosia slid from the animal's back. Some of the other men veered off in another direction, but she noted that Silas and Torin, who led the mule behind him, only continued walking to a nearby hut, evidently to keep an eye on her throughout the long, coming night. Urvan hesitated a moment, as though he wanted to say something to her, but then he turned and walked away alone, quickly disappearing into the growing shadows.
Both Antal and Lasca rushed up to her. Lasca put her arms around the old woman, astonished by how badly she was shaking. "Mother, are you all right? Where were you? Where is John?"
Tosia raised a hand, waving off the flurry of questions. "I am all right, Lasca. Only a little tired." She pulled away from Lasca's grip, but the younger woman kept her arm around Tosia's shaking shoulders.
"Look at Lornce's hut," Tosia asked her, "are they going inside?"
"Who?"
"Silas and Torin."
Lasca squinted in the direction a moment, then answered with, "Yes, but why—"
"Let us go home now, Lasca," Tosia said, unaware that she was weaving on her feet.
"Yes, we will…" Lasca paused to glance around, worried, "but Mother, where is John?"
"Let us go inside, Lasca. Antal…" Tosia reached for her grandson's arm, and he moved closer so that she could lean against his warm strength. "It is much too cold out here."
Something caught in her eyelashes and she looked up the sky. It had begun snowing again.
--- tbc ---
