Look to the North
"Damn it Matthias! Get it together!" Torleif roars angrily and throws his practice sword to ground with a loud clatter. "What the hell is wrong with you today?" He throws out his arms in frustration and begins pacing back and forth, looking much like a caged predator, and tense with barely contained fury. "You're supposed to be fighting me, not eat dirt like it seems you have been doing all morning!" He kicks the ground pointedly." You haven't gotten in one decent swing at me when normally you are capable of besting more than half the men present here without even breaking a sweat!"
Matthias can only respond by groaning in pain as he struggles to pick himself off the ground. The yelling is beginning to draw quite the crowd around them and there are far more people watching than he would like. His cheeks are already burning in embarrassment as he realizes several of the onlookers are beginning to laugh at his no less than crushing defeat in the mock battle against Torleif and the following commentary.
Being publicly scolded by the man everybody considers their leader is certainly not making him feel any better and the to top it all off, the shoulder he landed on aches in protest as he begins the task of brushing dirt of his clothing, making defeat taste so much fouler.
"I have told you dozen times already, boy," Torleif continues angrily, not deterred by the presence of an audience. "When you're in battle, you have to focus completely on the task at hand or else you'll end up killed. If you're facing a good opponent, all they will need is one mistake on your part and they will end you!"
"Like any of you are perfect!" Matthias counters boldly from the ground, unable to keep his own temper in check.
Torleif snorts angrily, not appreciating his commentary. "This is not the time for attitude." He growls. "If your head is not in the game, I don't think there is any use for us to keep on practicing more today." He then picks up the practice sword off the ground where Matthias dropped it and tosses it over to one of the other men that was waiting for his turn in the ring, making it obvious he is done with their discussion and will not change his mind.
Then his anger seems to fade, and he heaves a heavy sigh as he drags a hand through his hair just before he offers up a hand to help Matthias up. "You just earned yourself firewood duty," he says firmly, but not unkind. "That should help clear your head."
Matthias still grumbles in annoyance, and it is a weak protest at best.
Torleif returns a steely glare to emphasize that he is not in a mood to tolerate any further challenges to his authority, especially not in front of an audience. "You are no use in the training ring like this, but firewood to keep us warm in the night will do all of us some good." He crosses his arms impatiently.
Matthias clenches his mouth shut to hold back a long string of curses, angry and embarrassed at his own failure.
There is someone snickering in mockery somewhere in the gathered crowd, enjoying watching somebody else getting an earful. Accepting his fate, Matthias turns on his heel to stomp away from the training area, pushing his way through the crowd, eager to get out of sight and away from the laughter.
His head is a little clearer and his anger abating after walking from the training ground and to the stables as it lies on the opposite side of town, and he has the time to think. He understands Torleif's frustration with his lackluster performance back in the training ring and he feels a little guilty, but it is too hard to focus on sparring when his head is so full of other thoughts fighting attention after his nighttime conversation Lukas.
Reaching the stables, one of the farmhands is kind enough to lend him an ox and a cart to carry the firewood he collects. The animal is old and slow, but still capable of pulling its weight and does not make any complaints when Matthias leads it before the cart and clumsily begins fastening the various straps and reigns.
He yawns in exhaustion as the adrenaline from the sparring leaves his system and he can feel his eyelids grow steadily heavier as he works. He leans against the side of the animal, finding comfort in the warmth and the soft fur against his cheek and the faint sound of a steady heartbeat that is slowly lulling him off to sleep right where he stands.
He supposes that is just a natural consequence of spending an entire night without sleep and have nobody to blame but himself.
After the guards brought him back to the farmhouse after his late night stroll, he was just as unable to sleep as he was before going out. He waited around for dawn before giving up entirely and headed out to collect his boots before the rest of the village had a chance to awaken properly, leaving him with one less thing to worry about, not having to explain where his shoes disappeared to in the middle of the night.
Finally, sleep is within reach, all he has to do is allow his mind to drift off and he can get some rest at last.
That is until a lighthearted chuckle fills the air. "You certainly picked a strange place to catch yourself a catnap," the voice laughs.
Matthias spins around to face the intruder, instantly awake, but relaxes when he sees Tino leaning against the doorway of the stables staring at him with the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grins. "I wasn't sleeping," he says defensively, only for a yawn to interrupt him and destroying all pretense.
"Not yet," Tino laughs. "You weren't exactly awake during Torleif's lessons either from what I could see. Usually, you are the most dedicated at those practices, but today was almost humiliating to watch. Is that why he sent you out on firewood duty?"
Matthias grumbles out a few curses, which Tino seem to ignore.
"You weren't sleeping last night either," Tino continues. "I heard you walking about for a while, thought you might be up for a watch, but I asked Berwald, and he said you were off duty. I could almost swear I heard you talking to someone at some point even."
Matthias crosses his arm defensively over his chest, not liking the calculative look on Tinos face. "Fine, I admit it, I did not get any sleep last night, what about it?"
Tino grins wider. "What kept you up?" He asks and then his eyes sparkle mischievously. "More importantly, where did you go? Did you meet somebody?"
'A man,' Matthias thinks to himself as a reply. A very secretive and attractive man, and quite possible also very dangerous one, but he is not going to tell Tino any of that.
"I will find out what you're hiding eventually you know," Tino says teasingly when Matthias does not reply. "My best guess for now is that some girl is messing with your head, judging by that dreamy look you have got on your face whenever you think nobody is looking. I've seen how the girls in this village stares at you and Berwald both. To them you're heroes, it's not strange that there is some admiration going around."
Matthias cannot hold back a snort of laughter. The whole idea of chasing skirts when he has so much else to focus on is just ridiculous. It is not that he never noticed the girls looking, but they just do not catch his interest. He noticed them back in Griven as well and he liked waiving or winking at them when they walked past as he was working the fields just to make them blush and giggle, enjoying the attention. He just never could imagine settling down with any of them, no matter how much his mother began pestering him about the subject of marriage before she passed.
"Are you jealous they are not staring at you?" Matthias asks with a smirk, finally seeing an opportunity to turn the conversation around, not wanting to give Tino any more ammunition and wanting to discourage him from prying into why Matthias disappeared in the middle of the night.
Tino's ears turn rapidly, almost glowing, even under the partial cover of his hair and there is even more color creeping up his neck. "I don't care about that," he sputters, barely getting the words out in the right order. "I mean, they don't have a reason to know who I am. I am not the one that saved the village from the soldiers, not like the two of you did."
"You sure?" Matthias continues and he cannot hold back the amusement from his voice as Tino's face gain the same color as his ears. "You care enough that you notice them staring at me and Berwald."
Tino turns into an incomprehensible, stuttering mess.
Matthias laughs and pats Tino on the shoulder. "I'm just messing with you," he says lightly, very happy with his own success at turning the conversation away from himself. "To talk about something else, why are you here? Did Torleif send you?"
"As if Torleif would do that," Tino exclaims, instantly forgetting his own embarrassment as he gains a new reason to make fun of his friend. "He will not forgive you for not paying attention until you return exhausted with that cart full of firewood." Tino gestures at the cart. "People have started betting on whether or not you will finish before sundown. So, enjoy that," he smiles. "I just came here to get a horse. Torleif ordered the scouts to head out so we can try to figure out where the king's army is headed next. We have no idea where to even start looking."
"That does not sound like the best of plans," Matthias comments and leans his back against the cart. The mood rapidly drops as the conversation returns to the rebellion.
"If you have a better idea, I'm open for suggestions. With the lack of information, all we can do is send out riders in different directions and pray one of us is lucky enough to stumble across soldiers or the main army at some point. We cannot afford to stay here in Dale for much longer; we are already beginning to run low on food."
"I'm aware of that," Matthias mutters grimly. "So, you're just going to saddle up and flip a coin on the direction?"
Tino shrugs. "One direction is as good as any other. I was thinking of heading east, towards the Capital in case the soldiers want to stick a bit closer to home, but I'm not sure."
He sounds unsure and Matthias' brain seem to finally wake up, highly alert. It almost seems like fate than an opportunity to take use of Lukas' information presenting itself so easily. He decides to test the waters. "If I were them, I think I might have wanted to head north."
Tino takes the bait, his brows scrunching together in thought. "Really, why?"
"Think about it," Matthias replies trying to recall Lukas' logic from their conversation. "In the villages where the soldiers have been, we know they have focused on taking as many resources as they could get their hands on. Winter comes earlier to all of the northern towns, and they have to harvest what they can weeks before the southerners do, they are probably done by now." He pauses. "Striking the northern villages mid-winder will be close to impossible and hardly worth the effort so I figure if they want any resources from there, they will have to take them now."
"I don't know," Tino says hesitantly. "The northern towns are so small they might not want to bother with them at all, so we haven't wanted to focus our searches there at all, but I guess it won't do any harm going that way. They are very isolated from the rest of the kingdom; they could use the news of what have happened down here. That way they can at least take precautions." He shrugs.
Matthias can hardly believe what he is hearing. It almost seems too easy to influence Tino into going north rather than east. "I would feel better knowing the north had some warning at least," Matthias says lightly then he lifts the harnesses he was only halfway done with before he almost fell asleep and Tino interrupted. "I should probably head out now if I want to fill this cart before nightfall."
Tino grins at him. "That you should, I'll see you in two weeks or so."
"See you then," Matthias replies. "Good luck."
Tino returns 12 days later.
The day is growing closer to afternoon and Matthias is helping a large group of others stow away the weapons used for training that day they when somebody calls out a warning for an approaching rider.
They all look up and see one lone rider racing for the village.
He is riding like there is a demon on his heels and people to in his path scatter to avoid a trampling as he steers directly for the largest cluster of people by the training grounds where he finally yanks on the reigns, urging his horse to an abrupt stop.
His eyes are wild and spooked as he scans the crowd for something or someone, his mouth opening and closing as if he is trying to speak, but no words leave him.
Then, to everyone's horror, his eyes go unfocused, and he lists over in the saddle, falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes, and lies unmoving on the cold dirt.
There are a few seconds where everything is quiet as people watch in shock without knowing how to react and then Berwald barrels his way through the crows towards the unmovable heap on the ground, desperately calling Tino's name.
The next one react is Torleif and he quickly orders somebody to catch the spooked horse before it can trample anyone and to give them some room to breathe and then he crouches down beside Tino as well to make his own assessment of the situation, resting two fingers on Tino's throat to check for a heartbeat.
Matthias is not far behind and freezes when he catches a glimpse over Torleif's shoulder.
Tino looks horrible.
His clothes are torn in several places, covered in mud and what appears to be dried blood, lots of it, and there is no telling from a glance whether it belongs to him or someone else.
Torleif sighs in relief, apparently finding a pulse. "Tino," he says surprisingly gentle. "Can you hear me, kid? What happened out there?" His hands move over Tino, checking him for wounds when he receives no answer and curses. "We need to bring him inside. He is cold as ice and probably dehydrated and we have no idea what happened out there." He looks at Berwald. "Bring him to the main farm, ask them to clear a table and heat up water, I'll be right there."
Berwald does not hesitate and gently gathers Tino up his arms, as if he is the most fragile thing in the world and moves towards the house where they hold most important meetings with hasty steps.
Torleif turns to Matthias then, looking frantic. "You run and get Eir," he says. "She is the best physician we have around here, and we need her right now, go!"
Matthias is just as quick to obey orders as Berwald was, he turns on his heels before Torleif even finishes speaking and rushes towards one of the other large houses with the best insulation and the warmest fireplace, best suited for the sick and injured. Behind him, he can hear Torleif's orders for everybody to return to their duties and not panic.
He runs as fast as he can and burst through the front door, making it slam against the wall, scaring everyone in the room who stare at him as he gasps for breath.
Eir, the physician, a slightly older woman with more grey in her hair than brown is looking none too happy about the interruption her work and not appreciating the cold gust of wind that follows in his wake, but then she notices the look in his eyes and her face changes from annoyance to worry. She stands up, wiping her hands on her apron. "What happened?" she snaps, her voice demanding and firm, prepared for action in an instant.
"It's Tino," Matthias breathes. "He just returned from scouting north, but he passed out and fell off his horse, we don't know if he's injured or just exhausted. His clothes are all torn and full of blood. Berwald is bringing him to the main house."
Eir grabs a basket full of various items and hoist another bag up on her shoulder. "Lead the way," she snaps and marches towards the door.
They rush down the streets towards the main house and Matthias push aside people flocked outside the door, hoping to snatch up some news so they can get past. It seems news of Tino's return has spread fast throughout the village with his dramatic return and everybody wants to know what happened.
Well inside, they follow the voices towards the kitchen where there is already another cluster of people around the main table. There is water on boil over a roaring fire in the large fireplace and a basin ready.
"Get out of the way!" Eir orders and pushes her way through the crowd with little ceremony. "Let me see the patient and for love of the Gods, clear the room and give the poor boy some space and privacy."
Most are quick to move out of her path, clearing the room, the exception is Berwald who still clings to Tino's hand.
Eir gives him a hard look, but he does not back off, seemingly not intimidated by her withering glare. She gives up and just sighs before turning to her actual work, resting two fingers on Tino's throat to check his heartbeat. She gives them another annoyed glance before she opens his shirt to check for other injuries and rest a hand on his forehead, muttering to herself the entire time.
"Is he going to be okay?" Matthias asks hesitantly after a few minutes of tense waiting by the door, hesitant to leave even when Torleif fled immediately at the sight of Eir's anger.
She whirls around to glare at him proper and this time he does cower under her stare.
"He should be fine," Eir hisses angrily, "but he is going to need time to recover." She looks at the two of them, carefully considering as if she is deciding whether to tell them anything more or not. "I can't find any severe injuries, just scratches and some smaller cuts, so the blood on his clothes likely does not belong to him. The thing that worries me is that fever of his, it is dangerously high and there is no knowing how long it has been like that. Riding through the wilderness for days, not seeking shelter and with a fever, it is not the brightest thing that boy could have done."
"But he will be fine?" Berwald asks nervously, a tone that is unusual hearing from him.
"Yes," Eir sighs and turns back on Berwald again, "but I have to get his fever down fast before it goes to his brain. If you care to help, you can fetch me a bowl of cold water and some clean rags and don't dare enter without knocking or I will make sure you end up in a sickbed of your own." She gives Matthias a glance. "You can bring some blankets and fresh sheets, same rules apply."
It is a clear dismissal and Matthias flees quickly, eager to get away from the furious woman, suspecting she want some privacy for Tino as she makes sure there are no hidden injuries under the remainder of his clothing that she seemed reluctant to remove with so many people in the room.
The task of finding fresh sheets and blankets is not an easy one as they have are already distributed most of them between the villagers and refugees. He tears open every cupboard he comes across on his way, not caring about the mess he leaves behind as he rushes through the house and grabs everything that can even resemble a sheet or can work as a blanket before he runs back to the main room and only barely remembers to knock on the door and wait for an okay before he enters.
Eir barely looks up from her patient as he enters. "I hope you found bedding," she says. "You can strip the cot by that wall and replace the sheets. Since Torleif wanted to bring the patient here rather than bring him to the actual house set up for treating people, then he can stand to lose his bed for a few nights as a lesson."
Matthias does as ordered and then he hears steps as Berwald makes his own approach. He does not dare too challenge Eir either and waits on the doorstep for her to notice him and give him another order.
"Good," she snaps and makes a hand signal for Berwald to come closer. "You can place the basin on the bench by the cot, and then you can help move the patient from the table." She gives each of them a look. "Gods save me from the stupidity of men," She growls.
They do not know who the insult is meant for and neither of them dare respond.
Berwald quietly and ever so gently lifts Tino from the table to move him over to the freshly made cot, Matthias moves the blankets out of the way for him.
"What now?" Berwald asks.
Eir sighs and reaches for the basin of water and some rags. "Now we bring his fever down and let him rest." She says and dips the rag in the water, twists most of it out again and drapes it over Tino's forehead and even in sleep he sighs in relief as the cold cloth makes contact with his skin.
Eir's voice sounds softer now and she settles on the edge of the cot, running a hand through Tino's hair. "That's better," she whispers. "You will feel better soon, I'll make sure of it." Then she turns back on the two others again. "Now all we have to do is wait and pray."
It takes a few hours before Tino shows any signs of waking up.
In that time, Berwald refuses to leave Tino's side, sitting on a crate by the bed and occasionally switches out the cold rag on his Tino's forehead to keep him cool. Eir seem to realize she cannot get rid of him and lets him be while she sorts through her bag of herbs and mixtures instead while they wait.
Torleif stalks into the room after about an hour or so but is only allowed to enter after Eir drags him outside for a stern talk that echoes through the house. When he comes back to the kitchen he looks much like a scolded child and hunkers down on a kitchen chair on the end of the room that is furthest away from the furious healer. He does not even dare to ask questions and sits in silence until he eventually falls asleep, swaying dangerously on his chair.
Eir refuses to let anyone else enter the kitchen, hissing angrily at one of the other veterans that shows up at the door until they give up and leave.
Matthias settles on the floor and slumbers for himself, the events of the day catching up with him.
He wakes up from a quiet murmur from Berwald. "Look, I think he might be waking up."
Matthias is wide-awake in an instant on rushes to the foot end of the cot to stand out of the way from Eir. Torleif carefully makes his way over as well, still keeping a distance, but it looks like he was nothing more than shake Tino awake and fire off question.
Tino appears to wake slowly at first.
They see his eyes move underneath closed eyelids as he dreams and his fingers twitch against the blankets and then he wakes fully, in an instant, with a bloodcurdling scream. He shoots up in panic, tangled in the bedding and his eyes flicker around the room but taking no real notice of his surroundings. His mind is somewhere else, seeing a danger that no one else in the room are privy to and fighting to get away from them.
Eir is by his side in an instant, pushing him bag down against the cot. With a jerk of her head, she signals for Berwald to help her. "Keep him still," she orders, "or he might injure himself further."
When Berwald has a firm hold on Tino's arms and using his weigh to keep him down, Eir takes a hold of Tino's face, holding it still. "You're safe here," she says firm but gentle. "We are not here to hurt you, you're safe."
Just as sudden as he started screaming, Tino stops, only to start sobbing instead, his entire body shaking.
"What happened out there?" Torleif asks impatiently from the side, grimacing as he realizes just how inconsiderate he sounds, but there is also a desperation in his eyes as he waits for a reply. "What did you see?"
Tears are streaming freely down Tino's cheeks and there is a vacant look in his yes. "I found them," he says weakly. "There must be more than a thousand soldiers marching through the north and I saw them." He licks his lips nervously and Eir shushes him long enough to take a few sips of water before allowing him to continue.
"I came across a village, one that gave all their resources to the soldiers a few weeks earlier. It was almost empty by then, the villagers left their homes, heading south where it's warmer as their last hope to survive the winter. They are never going to make the journey without food." Tino's breathing is harsh as he stares vacantly at them. "I figured the army couldn't be far away and I wanted to warn the other towns up north, so I kept going."
"Then you found them, right?" Matthias interrupts, growing impatient himself. "Where?"
"Aeston," Tino sobs and there is another wave of fresh tears staining his face. "They had no intention of leaving anyone alive," he cries. "When I arrived, the town was already burning and the soldiers were standing in formation around it, shooting anybody trying to escape the flames. Men, women, children, they shot them all."
There are several long lines of curses from Torleif at the end of the cot. "We will not let the soldiers continue this sort of slaughter unhindered!" Torleif begins pacing the room, already thinking of the best way to move forward, but Tino still does not look reassured in any way.
Berwald takes a deep breath. "There is more, isn't there?" he asks.
"There was a little girl," Tino whispers, wrapping his arms around himself in comfort. "She was running from the town and was almost all the way to the trees and to safety. I spurred my horse to go save her, pulled her up on the horse behind me and we headed for the trees."
Torleif stops pacing and he looks pale as her realizes the story is going to take an even darker turn.
Tino's eyes look vacant as he recites his story. "I don't know what happened," he continues. "We were out of reach from the archers. I figured we would make it, but then I turned back and there was a bright blue light, and everything went black. I must have passed out and then it was morning again, but it was so quiet. There were no birds, not even wind and the village was a pile of ash. That light must have been magic, I'm sure of it, there is no way it would have knocked me out otherwise. My horse was dead, but I knew I had to get back and tell you all."
"What about the girl?" Berwald asks softly.
A truly heartbroken sob leaves Tino along with more tears. "She was tossed off the horse like me and only a few meters away, still alive when I found her, but she was bleeding so bad." He heaves for breath looking at his hands as if he can still see the blood that Eir luckily washed away while he was sleeping. "I tried to stop it, but I couldn't. She died in my arms, just a little girl."
He thrashes against Berwald's hold, then leans over the edge of the bed as far as he can and vomits.
It is mostly bile that makes its way up and it is clear he has not eaten anything in the last few days.
"That is enough," Eir interrupts and she pushes at Berwald to look Tino over and get him settled back into bed. "Get out, all of you!"
Berwald finally let go of Tino and allows Eir to take over as they make their retreat out of the room.
Matthias feels guilty as hell as the door closes behind them.
His suggestion of where to go could have gotten Tino killed up north. He is the reason Tino has suffered and is lying on a sickbed. Gods, if he had only found another way to convince Torleif they had to travel north.
He startles as a heavy hand lands on his shoulder and turn to see Torleif with a sympathetic look on his face, but also a determination. Torleif's other hand is resting on Berwald's shoulder.
"We will see this right," Torleif says firmly. "We will march north, even if winter is on our doorstep, and we will have our revenge. It does not matter that they are cowards willing to use magic against us, we will not allow them to slaughter innocent people for refusing to give up their food." He gives both Berwald and Matthias a firm pat on the shoulder. "We better spread the news. When Tino is back on his feet, we ride north."