Tales
"I wasn't gone that long, was I?" Matthias asks as he and Tino exits the orchard and move through the streets of Dalahurst. He looks to the sky where the sun is still shining brightly and only barely descending on dinnertime. "I don't understand why you would come looking for me now. I thought we would all meet up much later when it was time for the bonfire."
Tino does look a bit guilty and laughs nervously as he scratches the back of his neck. "Like I said, my aunt did make food, but also Berwald seemed worried about you. Not that he said that exactly," he stutters over his words before he continues, "but he mentioned you seemed distracted, and he wasn't sure what was going on with you. He just makes me a bit nervous, and I didn't know what to do, so I offered to go look for you." He seems completely incapable of stopping himself from talking as he desperately tries to explain why he deviated from the original plan, growing increasingly nervous it would seem. He does not even notice how Matthias tunes out from the conversation, lost in his own thoughts and not even replying.
Matthias wonders if he would have been able to convince Lukas to come down from the tree had Tino not interrupted, still feeling annoyed that the stranger managed to escape in the short time he looked away. How he managed that in the first place is still a mystery, but then Matthias recalls Tino mentioning the king being a sorcerer and his mind begins churning. There might be more wielders of magic out in the world, and come to think about it, he can swear he saw the bird that took up Lukas' spot in the tree give him a strange look before it flew away. That is not normal behavior for birds, and it seemed to appear out from nowhere, just as Lukas disappeared.
The more he thinks about it, the more sense it makes. Lukas must know and possess some magic at least, that much is obvious. It would explain how he managed to get away just now, and it explains how Matthias saw his shadow moving through the forest while escaping Griven, and how he showed up in Matthias' dreams despite claiming he had nothing to do with it.
It is all so strange that he never heard stories of magic being real before, and then he meets someone that might be capable of using magic and hears rumors of the king being a sorcerer, all within the course of a day. It is hard not to think there is any connection between the two, and it scares Matthias half to death. For all he knows, the information from Lukas could be part of an elaborate trap made by the king, even though he does not understand to what purpose.
If the purpose of the trap is to stop the rebellion, it has failed miserably. The warning in Matthias' dream is the only reason the villagers from Griven survived at all, and it makes no sense for the king to warn them of an attack, only to crush them later by luring them into a trap. Still, it is strange that Lukas knows the exact plans of the soldiers, gives up the information and yet he refuses to reveal how he came by it in the first place and Matthias battles with his own mind to decide whether to trust him or not.
The biggest question is however how he will deal with the information given to him. That is if he decides he trust Lukas at all. He has no idea of how to share the knowledge with the other rebels and have them question his motives or possibly his sanity. He cannot come up with a reasonable reason for him to have found out what he knows, and by the time Tino stops in front of a tiny red house and announces their arrival, he still does not have a plan ready.
Tino's aunt turns out to be a chatty woman, much like her nephew and with numerous wrinkles around her eyes and mouth from frequent smiles across her years. She offers him a plate of freshly baked bread accompanied by some fruits and soft cheese all which Matthias devours far too quickly, suddenly realizing how hungry he is.
They spend the entire afternoon in Tino's house, making small talk for a few hours until Tino suggests they head to the village communal space. The bonfire is most likely to be, and it turns out they are not the first ones to arrive and a fire is already burning in a large pit surrounded by logs for seating on the edge of town.
A small group from Griven has made the choice to attend and most of the people present are unfamiliar and belong to locals of Dalahurst. It would seem most of the villagers have decided to take the option of sleeping rather than listen to stories, knowing it should be safe with the number of guards posted to keep them all safe through the night while they rest.
Walking closer, they notice an entire pig roasting merrily on a spit over one half of the pit where the firewood has already burned down to embers and the smell makes Matthias' mouth water despite it not being more than a few hours since they ate. Proper meat is such a luxury, and it is rare to offer up an entire animal when supplies are low, like they would be after a raid from the King's men. It might be a play from the Chieftain to keep up morale in a bleak situation.
Matthias realizes he must have stared at the slowly roasting meat when he hears a chuckle and turn around to see a grinning Torlief. He never even noticed the man approaching. "I do believe you are drooling, dear boy," he says brightly and holds out a mug of ale for him before taking a sip of his own. "Go easy on the drink," he says. "It would be best if we all keep our heads on from now on."
Matthias accepts the mug and throws a second glance around and notice Tino and Berwald already have seats on one of the logs closest to the fire, nursing cups of their own. Berwald looks lost deep in thought, but Tino gives him a wave and pats a spot on the log next to him, smiling encouragingly.
"Join your friends," Torleif says almost fondly and pats him on the back with a heavy hand, practically pushing him forward, and Matthias moves easily enough, taking the seat next to Tino and enjoying the warmth radiating of the fire and the dark brown ale.
Proper night arrives quickly and darkness along with it. A few more people come to join the group by the fireplace and most of them are villagers from Griven. The chieftain grumpily explains that his people have heard the story of the king many times before and he would rather they focus on their guard duties rather than listen to superstition and gossip and he glances disapprovingly at his own villagers. A few kids attempt to hide away amongst the adults, but most get chased away or collected by an angry parent rather quickly.
They sit there for a long time, mostly in silence until somebody deems the pig ready for consumption and takes the job of carving it up to distribute among the attendees, and people use the opportunity to start talking amongst themselves, their spirit lifted by good food and drink.
"So," Tino says while still chewing. "Do you never tell stories back in your village? I mean, since it seems you never heard any about the king."
Matthias is about to reply that it is not in fact a common occurrence, but to his surprise, Torleif speaks up. "We don't anymore," he mutters darkly. He is looking towards the fire, but his eyes are empty as if he is lost in in memories. "We used to tell all kinds of stories back in the day, when I served in the army during the war, but after it was over, we just wanted everything to turn back to normal and forget it ever happened. That includes tales of the king."
The fire cracks loudly in the following silence, nobody daring to speak a single word that might interrupt Torleif from sharing more. He eventually draws a deep breath, preparing to talk. "None of us were ever creative enough to believe the King was a sorcerer, like you lot seem to have, but we certainly found it curious that he won battles where none of us fighting saw a way to get out with our lives intact. We didn't think too much of it at first, because why should we question the reason for being alive against all odds when we were just happy to see another day? He just had the most brilliant mind for strategies," Torleif turns away from the fire to look at most of the gathered villagers. "He always seemed to know where the enemy held their positions and what their next movements would be, long before they ever made them, and we could easily outmaneuver them."
"That is exactly what I'm talking about," Tino interrupts excitedly and there are a few groans and sighs from the Dalahurst villagers which he ignores completely. Apparently, they do not agree with Tino's interpretation and are not afraid of voicing their opinions. "He does know things before they happen, but that is not the only thing. There are many stories of enemy troops vanish the day before a big battle is expected, how is that possible except with sorcery?"
"Really?" Matthias interrupts with a laugh, probably a bit rudely if he judges Tino's expression correctly. "He could just be an amazing tactician like Torleif said. Is that the only reason you think he is a sorcerer? There is no actual evidence of magic involved? No firestorms, lighting from a clear sky, nobody has seen him turn into a dragon or something exciting?"
One of the villagers burst out in a wild laughter and snorts loudly. "A dragon!" he roars. "Just what kind of mushrooms did you boys eat while you were lost out in that forest? He even wipes away a few tears of laughter. "I think the entire kingdom would be speaking of it if there ever was a dragon sighted anywhere, whether it happened now or hundreds of years ago. I think we can all be certain that dragons do not exist out of fairytales."
Some of the others chuckles at the comment, but Matthias brushes it off with a smile, not caring that they think him a joke. The more they talk, the more he might learn about the King's supposed powers. "Then please do tell me what is it he can do that makes him so damned powerful that the entire kingdom cowers in fear."
"I told you it was just a foolish children's story!" The Chieftain snaps angrily from the very edge of the circle. "All of these tales are just the result of people letting their imagination run wild because the truth is that we know nothing about our own King. We share no political connection with any of our neighboring kingdoms, besides war. We have no idea if he is married or not. Rumors says he has had my suitors and never accepted any of the offers, but nobody knows. He rarely shows himself in public and he never journeys outside the Capital. We are supposed to be his subjects and yet none of us has ever even seen the man!"
The chieftain is red-faced and angry after his tirade and the villagers look thoroughly chastised, turning quiet. Then Torleif clears his throat loudly as he puts down his mug of ale, his voice cutting cleanly through the sudden silence.
"Actually, I did see him once," he says, and everyone present turns to look at him in wonder and disbelief. "Fifteen years ago, just after the final battle of the war." Torleif takes a few deep breaths and fiddles with the empty mug in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety. "They let both villagers and soldiers into the capital square where the King held a speech to celebrate our victory and talk about the era of peace ahead of us."
There is not a single sound to interrupt Torleif's tale. Once again, everybody is watching and listening to him as if spellbound.
"I remember that day well," Torleif continues, his voice strong and unwavering and he places his mug on the ground. "I was so relieved the fighting was over, it was like the world was suddenly bright, the future full of possibility again. The sun was shining that day, not a single cloud in sight and everybody were so full of hope again after two years of fighting and death. I overheard people talking, their voices were so happy; some of the girls were admiring the king from afar."
One of the villagers cuts him up with a sharp bark of laughter. "Of all the things to remember, and you decided to focus on the weather and chatter of young girls."
Torleif huffs out a breath, but he does not look insulted. "Of course I did," he says, throwing out his arms out wide. "They stomped all over my fragile ego. I was a soldier and I just survived fighting to keep them safe, I was just insulted they were not looking at me and the memory stuck." He snorts again. "I was young, dumb and thought I was the most attractive man in that square, yet there they were, fawning over someone that never risked his life on the battlefield." He places one hand on his chest and fans his face with the other while fluttering his eyes at his audience. The look does not suit a strong-built, bearded man at all and when he pitches his voice higher, it becomes even more comical. "Oh my, I mean, look at him. He looks so mighty in that royal cloak, and the green in his tunic perfectly matches his eyes. I swear, in this light they are sparkling just like emeralds."
The villagers roar out in laughter, and several of them throws out mocking remarks to tease the veteran further and one even whistles, all of which he rebuffs with crude gestures and insults of his own. Someone eventually shows him mercy and hands Torleif a fresh mug of ale, patting him on the back, still grinning widely in laughter.
They quiet down after that and the want for more stories about the King is gone. They have had their fun, and the Chieftain is still fuming by the fire, not entertained by their tales and nobody wishes to anger him further.
However, most people seem lighter at heart after Torleif's comical impersonation of infatuated capital girls, but Matthias feels a strange sort of relief. The stories told lead Matthias to believe that at least Lukas is not the King or related to him in any way. That thought never made much sense to begin with; Lukas is far too young to be the King, but if magic exists then all sorts of things could be possible. That was until Torleif mentioned the girls fawning over the King's green eyes where Lukas's are a deep blue, firmly dispelling that hypothesis.
There is still a possibility they are related, but that also seems unlikely with the lack of political connections and even with all the secrecy around the king, the people should have known if there were any children in line to inherit the throne after him. He suddenly realizes just how little he knows about his own Kingdom, too focused on just surviving day to day. Who rules in the Capital usually matters little to those living on the outskirts and the evening's stories prove just how little they have cared to pay attention.
He still has several questions about Lukas, but Matthias's immediate doubts have quieted down for now, and now that he has made up his mind, he is eager to share the information as soon as possible. If Lukas is telling the truth, then they have less than two weeks to get to Dale and prepare the village for a fight or evacuation.
The mood to share stories is gone; the Chieftain firmly saw to that so there is mostly just quiet conversation between people, and the occasional crackle from the fire to disturb the night.
Luckily, Torleif has settled down on the bench right in front of Matthias, and all he needs to do to gain the veteran's attention, is tap in on the back until he turns around to face them, lifting an eyebrow in silent question.
Matthias grins a bit sheepishly, suddenly realizing this might not be the best time to bring up the subject, but it is too late to regret it now. "I was just wondering if we have a plan for how to move forward."
Torleif does not get a chance to reply before the Chieftain speaks up. "I suppose we should gather up every person capable of fighting and get out of this town," he growls before he empties the last dregs from the mug he was angrily nursing before Matthias spoke up. "We all know it's just a matter of time before the king's soldiers will find their way here in their search for anyone from Griven and anyone else that might have joined in on the rebellion, which now includes our village since we took you in. This place is not defendable, we have no resources to speak of and it is no longer safe. We need to get on the road as quick as possible."
"I know that" Matthias replies swiftly. "What I mean is, do we have a plan for where we are going first? Or are we just picking a random direction and hoping for the best?"
"We just got here," Berwald mutters sharply besides him. "Why are you so eager to make plans right now? Can't it wait until morning?"
Berwald sounds suspicious and Matthias cannot blame him. He has been acting out of character and if anyone were to notice, Berwald was the best candidate. He is far more observant than most people tend to think when they first see him, and he obviously knows that Matthias has is plotting something on his own and not telling them everything. By speaking up, he is letting Matthias know he is not happy with the secrecy.
Matthias knows he needs to tread carefully now. "Thing is, I've had some time to think and go over in my head what happened last night. The guards were taunting me when I was running away and it all happened so quickly." He pauses, trying to think how convince the others to follow his lead, and Torleif looks at him expectantly, his brows knitted together in careful curiosity. "I can't be sure of course, but I thought I heard one of the guards mentioning heading east when they were done with Griven."
"The village of Dale lies to the east!" Tino exclaims urgently, loud enough to make every head turn to them now. "We should go there immediately. We need to warn them!"
With every eye focused on Tino after his outburst, they seem to forget to ask Matthias any follow up questions and he thanks every God he knows of that Tino was there to create a distraction to take attention off him. He is not the best of liars, mostly used to speaking his mind first and dealing with consequences later and he does not know if he could have been able to keep up against direct questions, especially from Torleif or Berwald.
"It is not a strong lead," Torlief says carefully while scratching at his greying beard, "but it is the only we we've got, it might be worth checking out."
"Then we should not waste time," the Chieftain stands up and puts his mug down on the bench, speaking loud enough to address everyone present. "We should head out already tomorrow if we can. We cannot let fellow people suffer the same fate that we have."
"Are you sure?" Matthias mouth drops open in his surprise that Torleif and the Chieftain both seems willing to follow his suggestion on so little information without asking further questions.
The Chieftain offers Matthias a hand and pulls him up to stand next to them by the fire. He suddenly feels exposed with all these people watching him, especially when he just lied to them all.
Torleif stands up as well to pat him on the back. "The Chieftain and Tino makes a point. We probably don't have much time to lose considering how fast the soldier came back to burn down our town. We need to get those people out of there or prepare them to fight." Torleif places a hand on Matthias' shoulder and holds it there. "This is the best clue we have, and we should act on it, that is unless we want to wander about at random from village to village to tell them our cause and hope they join us."
"Maybe we should have a team scout ahead then," Tino suggests quietly, not really daring to speak up now that the simple evening of storytelling has turned into a minor war council. "We have horses in town, a few people can ride ahead to Dale, gather information, find out if the soldiers have been there yet. If they have not, chances are, they are on the way and then we can plan from there."
"That is a great idea," Torleif says and Tino ducks his head under the attention.
"I volunteer," Matthias immediately replies. "This is my information, and if I am wrong, I should be the one to take the risks involved, not anyone else."
"I am going with him," Berwald says firmly, and nobody looks like willing to speak against him and Matthias is quietly happy. If he had to pick someone to join him, he would have picked Berwald and it is a relief to know he wants to join on his own volition, rather than Matthias have to convince him later.
"Can I come too?" Tino asks and some of the hesitance is gone from his voice now. "I am much better at moving quietly than them and I know the landscape. I have made the journey between here and Dale many times, I know a few paths the soldiers are not likely to use, and I can get us there much faster."
"Well, it seems we have a team then," Torleif says mildly, shaking his head with a laugh, seeming surprised but pleased with the turn of events. "I cannot speak for the Chieftain, but if the village has horses to spare, we should send you out at first light."
The night passes uneventfully after that. Torleif and the Chieftain chase off the newly appointed scouts to get some rest in the early twilight hours before they are to head out for mission, and he collects them a few hours later again, leading them to the fire pit where there are three packed horses ready for the journey. The villagers went together to donate enough food for a few days for each of them as well as warm clothing and blankets since Berwald and Matthias arrived in town with only the clothes on their backs.
Torleif sends them off with wishes of good luck and tells them they will all meet each other in a few days when they have organized the remaining villagers of Griven with those from Dalahurst. The idea is to form a proper army that might be able to help defend Dale should they be in trouble and later make a march from other villagers to collect more people for their cause before they can make a proper plan for how to deal with the King.
Tino is the one in the lead, he guides them surely along a few narrower roads, and the days pass in a blur.
Matthias can only pray that he is making the right choice by following Lukas's tips leading them all to Dale and he has no idea what to expect. Soon they will know if they are too late to save Dale or if they have to prepare a village for fighting off soldiers in a few days. If they are truly unlucky, they prepare Dale for fight while the soldiers are off somewhere else, slaughtering another defenseless village that did not get the warning.
Only time will tell, and all too soon, Tino signals for them to stop.