knelt to examine the closest shape, gingerly pulling aside the thick quilt that concealed it. A swarm of flies flew noisily away. The quilt was warm and wet, heavy with blood. Underneath, Gomja could see a body, tinged red in the window’s weak light. It had been a woman.
“Oh, gods, Eloise.” Teldin let the stifled words escape. Teldin knew he had seen worse in the war among the fields of dead, but these people were his friends, his father’s and grandfather’s friends. Teldin slowly got to his feet, then moved to check the other bodies.
It took the giff longer to regain his composure. His face was ill and hollow, a look Teldin remembered on raw recruits after their first battle. Unsteady on his feet, the giff joined Teldin in the search. A brief look was all either needed. The pair hastily bundled the bodies in the bloodstained blankets.
That work done, Teldin retreated from the room. The giff leaned heavily against the doorjamb, his chest heaving, his skin ashen gray. “How many lived here?” the giff managed to ask.
“Four. Liam, Eloise, and their two children, Telvar and Cyndia.” Teldin looked at the dark shapes in the room beyond. His shoulders were shaking. The sword was still clutched tightly in his hands. In his mind they all were still alive and welcoming him inside. “Liam and Eloise tried for children for such a long time. Telvar and Cyndia were twins. They were so …” Teldin let it go; there was no point in saying any more.
The giff nodded weakly. “Four,” he whispered.
“I was too late,” Teldin said. “I didn’t save them.” He slammed his fist against the jamb, driving the shaking fit away. He ignored his bloodied hand and turned to go back into the room. “Come on, giff,” the farmer said grimly. “We can’t leave them here. We’ll have to bury them. There should be a shovel in the barn.”
“Yes, sir,” Trooper Gomja numbly replied.
Chapter Four
Work made things easier for both Teldin and the giff, blocking out the thoughts of what had happened in Liam’s house. While Gomja shoveled graves in the rocky soil behind the cabin, Teldin scrounged through the barn, looking for something to use as a marker. At last he split a clean wedge from a log and crudely carved “Shal” on it. Elegance didn’t matter since the board was only temporary. Teldin planned to come back later with proper headstones.
The giff came clumping around the house and stiffly announced, “The graves are finished.” The morning sun was already climbing into the sky and the dew was starting to steam away. The giff mopped his expansive brow with a rag.
Sitting on his log, Teldin kept whittling at the marker, not looking up. He was reluctant to get on with this burial, more than any other he had done. The knife pared away another strip of wood.
“Sir?” the giff spoke again.
Teldin bit his lip, then thrust the knife with a fierce jab into a fence post. “Let’s get it over with.” His voice was tight and grim, edged with exhaustion that was fast overtaking him. He stood slowly and followed the giff back around the house.
The bundled bodies lay in a neat row near the stone wall behind Liam’s house. Not too far away, under a scraggly tree, were four holes in the ground. The fresh earth was heaped in a great mound alongside. Teldin and Gomja lowered the bodies one at a time into the graves and shoveled the dirt back over them. Teldin worked slowly, letting the monotonous task numb his mind.
When they eventually finished, both stood unmoving in front of the graves. The giff simply watched the human, waiting for some sign of what to do next. Teldin stared at the fresh earth and tried to remember a prayer. During the war, when he had to work the burial details, the Seekers had chanted while they worked. He had never paid much attention to the prayers then and now none came to mind. “Good-bye, Liam, Eloise. Paladine protect you all,” the young farmer said softly. It was all he could think
“Oh, gods, Eloise.” Teldin let the stifled words escape. Teldin knew he had seen worse in the war among the fields of dead, but these people were his friends, his father’s and grandfather’s friends. Teldin slowly got to his feet, then moved to check the other bodies.
It took the giff longer to regain his composure. His face was ill and hollow, a look Teldin remembered on raw recruits after their first battle. Unsteady on his feet, the giff joined Teldin in the search. A brief look was all either needed. The pair hastily bundled the bodies in the bloodstained blankets.
That work done, Teldin retreated from the room. The giff leaned heavily against the doorjamb, his chest heaving, his skin ashen gray. “How many lived here?” the giff managed to ask.
“Four. Liam, Eloise, and their two children, Telvar and Cyndia.” Teldin looked at the dark shapes in the room beyond. His shoulders were shaking. The sword was still clutched tightly in his hands. In his mind they all were still alive and welcoming him inside. “Liam and Eloise tried for children for such a long time. Telvar and Cyndia were twins. They were so …” Teldin let it go; there was no point in saying any more.
The giff nodded weakly. “Four,” he whispered.
“I was too late,” Teldin said. “I didn’t save them.” He slammed his fist against the jamb, driving the shaking fit away. He ignored his bloodied hand and turned to go back into the room. “Come on, giff,” the farmer said grimly. “We can’t leave them here. We’ll have to bury them. There should be a shovel in the barn.”
“Yes, sir,” Trooper Gomja numbly replied.
Chapter Four
Work made things easier for both Teldin and the giff, blocking out the thoughts of what had happened in Liam’s house. While Gomja shoveled graves in the rocky soil behind the cabin, Teldin scrounged through the barn, looking for something to use as a marker. At last he split a clean wedge from a log and crudely carved “Shal” on it. Elegance didn’t matter since the board was only temporary. Teldin planned to come back later with proper headstones.
The giff came clumping around the house and stiffly announced, “The graves are finished.” The morning sun was already climbing into the sky and the dew was starting to steam away. The giff mopped his expansive brow with a rag.
Sitting on his log, Teldin kept whittling at the marker, not looking up. He was reluctant to get on with this burial, more than any other he had done. The knife pared away another strip of wood.
“Sir?” the giff spoke again.
Teldin bit his lip, then thrust the knife with a fierce jab into a fence post. “Let’s get it over with.” His voice was tight and grim, edged with exhaustion that was fast overtaking him. He stood slowly and followed the giff back around the house.
The bundled bodies lay in a neat row near the stone wall behind Liam’s house. Not too far away, under a scraggly tree, were four holes in the ground. The fresh earth was heaped in a great mound alongside. Teldin and Gomja lowered the bodies one at a time into the graves and shoveled the dirt back over them. Teldin worked slowly, letting the monotonous task numb his mind.
When they eventually finished, both stood unmoving in front of the graves. The giff simply watched the human, waiting for some sign of what to do next. Teldin stared at the fresh earth and tried to remember a prayer. During the war, when he had to work the burial details, the Seekers had chanted while they worked. He had never paid much attention to the prayers then and now none came to mind. “Good-bye, Liam, Eloise. Paladine protect you all,” the young farmer said softly. It was all he could think
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