Author's Note:
This fanfic is set in the distant past, Tortall. Some content belongs to Tamora Pierce, and other content I have taken liberties with. If you are concerned with what belongs to me and what belongs to Tamora Pierce, please email me at cyclepinsetter@yahoo.com
Yoric's Tale: The Gathering
Five
Yoric
brought his head from the basin of icy water and toweled his face
off, carefully avoiding the fresh wound running from his left eye
to his ear. He touched his face gingerly and retracted his
hand. A moderate amount of blood stained his fingers. He cursed and dabbed the towel over the scar, wincing at the pain.
Can't
take a bit of pain old boy? He chided himself. The
blood still flowed freely from the scar across his temple. Damn
it! Where was Ellie when he needed her? She had
to disappear without a trace when the troops needed her healing
skill. The clan had other healers, but they weren't as
patient as she was. He heard footsteps in the mud outside
his tent. Yoric looked up as Ethan pushed the flap aside
and entered the dark tent.
I
thought the rains would never let up. Why don't you
come out and enjoy the spring air. You've been cooped
up in here since the last battle.
Yoric
frowned at Ethan and paused. I know how long I've
been in here, I'm not totally bereft of what's going on
outside the tent.
It
was just a statement. And here's another one. You
look awful, but I suppose you're aware of that too.
Yoric ignored Ethan's comment.
You
could also try getting yourself to a healer. Ethan
looked handed Yoric a bundle. Here's some clean
clothes, you'll feel better.
You
didn't have to bother.
Ethan let
out a breath of air. Oh, and here I am being the
responsible one? What has this land come too?
He frowned thoughtfully. I seem to remember you
telling me to get my act together on more than one occasion.
Yoric
looked at the bundle of clothes crossly. I'm
tired of fighting Ethan. Dead tired. I have no life
left. This fighting has sucked the life out of me.
We
all feel the same way Yoric.
Then
why do we keep on fighting?
Because
we have to.
Leave
me be. Get out of here. Yoric rasped. Get
out of my site!
Ethan shook his head and turned from the tent, mud clinging to
his boots.
Yoric gazed around the dank interior of his tent. The trunk
with his books stood forgotten in the corner, covered in
discarded pieces of clothing. He felt the coppery taste of
blood on his lips. Ignoring the cut on his temple, he knelt
by the trunk, clearing it of debris and opening the heavy top. He lifted his journal, untouched for half a year, and set it
awkwardly on the damp floor. He brought out a bundle of
clean linen, unwrapping its contents.
The amethyst jewel caught the rays of brief light filtering in from the partially open tent flap. Solemnly, Yoric peered at the object, with the glint of light his mind catching broken memories of his trip to the mountaintop.
Bring to your Headsmen at his most desperate hour
The voice of the man on the mountaintop ran through his ears. How was he to know when the most desperate hour was? What
if the most desperate hour had already past?
Yoric scowled and wrapped the object back in the linen and stowed
it back in the trunk. A voice at the back of his mind told
him that there was still hope. This was not the most
desperate hour. He picked up his journal to place it on top
of the jewel and a scrap of loose parchment fluttered from
between the pages. Setting the journal back in the trunk,
he unfolded the paper and read the familiar scrawl.
Yorrie—
Writing this in
hopes you'll check your journal to make sure I didn't
mess with anything. I am leaving to seek help for our tribe. I know I would never have been able to leave if I waited for
approval—so I left before you had recovered. For all
purposes, I am traveling to the great northern lake in hopes of
forming an alliance from the Clan Naxen. If I succeed I
shall return to camp by late spring.
Take Care,
Ellie
Yoric folded the paper nervously. Ellie! He
had to find her. But late spring was approaching, and she
should be returning soonif she succeeded. That final
phrase echoed through his head. The regions by the great
northern lake held treacherous winter conditionsif she
failed. He didn't want to think of that. Yoric
slammed the trunk shut and burst out of the tent. Ethan was
talking with some of the other men when he looked up to see Yoric
walking towards him.
Yoric, feeling better? One of the men addressed
him.
Yoric shook his head impatiently. he
mumbled. Ethan, I know where she is.
Know where who is Yoric? Ethan prompted. What
are you talking about?
Ellie. And I'm going to find her. I just
thought you might care to know that. He started to
walk towards his tent. Ethan paused and followed him.
Wait, hold up Cousin. You can't just leave me
like this. I need you to help command our troops.
You may need someone to command the troops Cos, but you do
not need me.
Ethan let out an angry breath. You cannot leave. I forbid it. Not when we're so close. We only
need to win one more battle, just one more.
You said that last time Ethan. Yoric entered
the ten and started to pack a bag. One more battle. How many final battles is it going to take for you to learn that
we cannot win? He threw a piece of armor across the room.
Still ruled by your emotions Yoric, preoccupied by fear. We don't want our children to live in a world controlled by fear. And you want your mother to see peace before she dies.
Yoric sat down on the ground, head in hands. Ma. Have I forgotten about you? He looked up at Ethan. But when will we stop? Till we're all dead?
Ethan said forcibly. Till we are all
dead! Till none of our clan has to deal with living like
this anymore! He bit his lip. Yoric, you
can help us. Ellie can take care of herself, she's a
big girl.
Yoric stood silently and stared at Ethan. Licking his lips,
he nodded.
I will stay until the end of the spring. If our standings have not improved, then you have lost me.