"They say it was bandits," Father announced flatly, his strong arms folded to his chest. His gaze was frozen ahead, staring out the kitchen window onto the street.
Lucian sagged in his chair and covered his eyes with one hand. "I can't believe that," he pushed back his seat and started to pace in disbelief, "Brian, Erik and I had absolutely NO trouble getting through those woods. We didn't see a soul,"
"That's because you were travelling with a trained swordsman, Lucian," Mama said gently.
"What! I know Brian had some background in that kind of stuff but he gave no indication that he was…better than he let on," Lucian punctuated every word with a furious gesture of his hands, "Besides, his swords were wrapped up tight on his back. How would anyone watching us know that he is dangerous?"
"He's been in this neck of the woods many times, son. He's no stranger to those kind of people," Father replied, in the same monotone voice he used before, and quietly walked past them and out the door.
"So, so what? Do we just lay in wait for starvation to do us in? Where the hell do we get our food now?" Lucian demanded.
"I don't know, Lucian!" His mother shrieked harshly, placing two hands flat on the table and taking a deep breath.
"I will not have another summer like the one we lived through two years ago. We were miserable and Maleah got sick. Nine people died, four of them children!" Lucian went on in a rage, and his mother closed her eyes tightly.
"I'm going back through those woods to see if we can recover anything we lost. Those thugs can't get very far with all those wagons," he said, striding to the door and his Mama called him back.
"No!" and she walked up to Lucian, a hard and wild look in her eyes, "The villagers who didn't get away were probably slaughtered and robbed. You can do nothing!"
Lucian stared at her quietly, and then stormed through the doorway onto the street, in a fury, brushing past a couple black-robed strangers heading toward his house. Delivering the bad news officially to every household, no doubt.
Coriander was no longer beaming with an atmosphere of good will and celebration. The news of the failed trek spread like wildfire, and all around him, people dragged their feet and walked toward no destination in particular. They gazed about hungrily, like the undead.
Lucian periodically stopped and asked people where Brian was, but the family he was staying with said he had left earlier in a hurry. They didn't know where he went off to.
The sun burned brightly, overhead. Everything was the same as the day before when Lucian was deemed as a hero. Now others merely looked through him. There were no greetings.
"How could something so needed, go so wrong?" he thought, as he shuffled along slowly, kicking at the dirt under his feet, "why did this have to happen? Yesterday, everything was perfect…"
Lucian shoved his fists in his pockets as he passed Platina's house. He turned his head and looked for her, catching a glimpse of blue hair towards the side of their shack. Her dress sleeves were rolled up and her feet were covered in soil. Laia seemed to be barking orders from inside. He was grateful her back was to him, and hurried on.
As if sensing his presence nearby, Platina straightened up and turned around, her hands dirtied and holding gardening tools. Her lovely delicate face melted into a sad frown when she saw him and she quickly moved out of site.
Lucian bowed his head and kept walking, looking side to side at the crestfallen and disappointed faces. He joined them in thinking of the coming onslaught of starvation, sickness and cold nights.