Remembered In The Wind

Only One Death: Part Six of Ten

Only One Death is the first in the Tales of The Lesser Evil and this is the sixth chapter.

This is a fantasy series—not quite grimdark, but dark nevertheless—with complicated and believable characters doing their best to survive in a world simply indifferent to their existence.

To read an introduction to this novella, and the backcover blurb, click here.

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Remembered In The Wind

The sisters had the final watch. When the others awoke it was clear they had spent their time discussing the situation.

'We want to go back.'

'Bab was right, this trip is cursed.'

Dhinal stood and stretched to his full height, various bones crunching and popping. He failed to remember when his last massage had been. A long time ago.

'We will vote again then. But I am going on. Who wants to walk back to Eastsea?'

The twins both immediately raised their arms, joined a moment later by Estel, who gave an apologetic shrug.

'We're sorry, but we had no idea...' Lopi trailed off and then continued, following a nod from her sister. 'The thing is, we were not branded for theft. We worked in a travelling show as acrobats, knife throwers and jesters. Our mother branded us. She and grandfather said it increased sales if the public thought they were watching real cat burglars, real professional thieves. They had brands too. We, well, we are not really suited to this. Our troupe didn't even travel far, moving between the Triple Cities every four months.'

'It was fine when we were travelling from city to city. That we knew, we understood. But this place, these trees, these mountains... This isn't like anything we know. We're not suited to this,' Yuli repeated. 'We want to go home to our family.'

'I just want to go back to people. To buildings,' Estel said, her head hanging low.

'Who is for going on then?' asked Dhinal, raising his own hand.

Strings raised hers.

'Chimal?'

'I don't know. I think I want to go on. It can't get worse, can it?' He looked around, as though expecting an answer. When there was none, he raised his hand.

'Three against three. Should Kees get a vote?' Dhinal asked, adding, 'She'll get paid whatever we decide.'

'I guess she should,' Chimal said, the others all nodding agreement.

Kees had been stretching her back. It was not as painful as it had been the previous evening, but she would have to be careful. Her hand hurt more, and it itched inside. She turned to look at them.

'I say we carry on. It is now further to Eastsea than it is to the Amethyst Mountains, in both distance and time. They should come briefly into sight the day after tomorrow, then they are hidden by others for a while longer. At this range you can't really see the colour, but in less than a week... Well, if you carry on, you'll see. If you decide to go back, then I'll still draw you a map to the road from here.'

'We carry on then,' Dhinal said and waited until he received affirmation from each member of the group before adding, 'the Gods willing, things will be easier from here.'

Kees avoided his eyes. The mountains ahead were anything but easy. Still, she would be paid regardless of the outcome. That was what mattered. Regardless.

For five days they wound their way into the high passes. The view of the Amethyst Mountains Kees had promised failed to materialise due to worsening weather. Low cloud and clinging rain soaked them through and made the already dangerous footing ever more treacherous.

At times the rain turned to sleet and then thick wet snow. Then back to rain. Winter was swift in the mountains and Kees looked forward to following the faint trails to the southwest, once she had left the group. There the summer would still be clinging on, leaves steadfastly refusing to drop. Winter could be harsh in the Fjordlands, but not as unforgiving as it was in the high places.

Her back was no longer sore, but her hand had become swiftly and spectacularly infected. With Dhinal's help she had cleaned it and applied some of the antibiotic, angry with herself for having to use some before she had even made it to her winter home, but her hand no longer itched, the pus had drained, and the swelling gone.

As they walked, the conversation grew increasingly strained, mostly revolving around the bad luck that had dogged the expedition, the terrible weather clearly also a part of the curse.

Things took another dark turn when Chimal and Estel realised how little food the group had left. The argument that followed was heated and unresolved. The following day it reignited, continuing until they wrapped themselves in damp blankets, cold, wet and hungry.

Kees was the focal point of the anger, with Estel and the twins blaming her and openly questioning why they could not use her supplies. Chimal tried to calm them down, but to no avail. Kees herself remained silent until she had enough of the hostility, weakness after the infection adding to her irritation at the bickering.

'I could have left you all at any point. Remember that, Estel. Remember that, Yuli and Lopi. I could still leave at any point.'

The next morning, she was gone.

'What do we do now? Well done Estel, well done Lopi, well done Yuli. We're stuck in the middle of nowhere without our guide and without a map.' Chimal was pacing back and forth in the mud, his hands pointing and jabbing to reinforce his words.

Dhinal and Strings huddled under the stunted and gnarled juniper they had slept beneath.

'It's your fault, Dhinal. You hired her. We trusted you,' Lopi spat her words across the fire, her glare clearly including Strings.

Dhinal drew a deep breath, but said nothing. Aishah-Zaya would have a lot to answer for, when next they met.

'We won't find the trail back in this weather,' Chimal continued. 'Maybe if Galea hadn't been killed we would have stood a chance, but now? Now we're dead.' His voice had risen in octave as well as volume.

'Just shut up, fat man,' Estel snapped back, rising to her feet.

'I will not shut up, why could you not have just kept quiet? Why did you three have to push and push? What are we going to do? We've barely got enough food for two weeks, certainly not enough to be wandering around these mountains with winter coming.'

'Just shut up,' Estel emphasised each word, walking closer to Chimal, her hand stabbing at him with each word, as his had done to her. 'You are just like him, just like my old master Gurrisch b'Rendrea. I hated him.'

'No, I will not shut up. Do you hate me, then?' Chimal turned and squared off with Estel, standing tall and refusing to take a step back when she walked right up to him, nose to nose.

'Maybe if you hadn't been so greedy, we'd have more food left?' Estel poked him in his ample stomach.

'Enough!' Dhinal rose to his feet and moved toward the pair, their heads turning to look at him.

Strings was partway through rising when Chimal pushed Estel away from him. She was not expecting the shove and her left foot caught a root, her right slipping in the mud. She tumbled backward.

There was a sickening crack. She twitched once, then she lay still, her head resting on the rock it had fallen against.

'I'm so sorry, I didn't mean...' Chimal was at her side, trying to raise her, then he stopped. He held out the hand he had cupped behind her head, to find it red with blood.

'Stand away, Chimal,' Strings said as she and Dhinal reached Estel. They checked her breathing, her pulse; Strings all the while remembering Bab's bloated face, Galea's oddly accusatory eyes, and Vivika's peaceful expression.

'She's dead. Shit.' It was not the first time she had said it. Strings put her head in her hands.

Kees chose that moment to walk back into camp leading her ponies, each draped with a heavy red deer stag.

'Shit,' she echoed.

They could not bury Estel, the ground was too stony and the soil too shallow. Instead they placed rocks over her body until she was entirely covered. Dhinal took some of her bottles of ink, paper and parchment. He left her quills to be buried with her; she had pressed too hard with each, they were split and cracked too high up the stem to salvage. He still managed to write out a brief poem, which he lay on top of her corpse, weighing it down with the first rock.

Chimal was silent throughout, tears marking his cheeks and reddening puffy eyes.

'What did it say?' Strings asked, as they set off walking once more, another member of their group left behind.

'The poem? Simply that all words spoken need not be recorded, that they are remembered in the wind and held within each unique crystal flake of snow.'

'I didn't have you down as a poet.'

'We don't all wear ink stained robes.'

The trails the remaining six followed were increasingly small, narrow, and easily lost, switching back in direction in order to climb higher and higher into the mountains. Three days after they had built Estel's cairn they reached a plateau covered in dozens of similar mounds, only much, much larger, with huge rocks blocking doorways, lintels bearing strange carvings above, inlaid with many colourful lichens. Not a single doorway stood open, all still sealed.

'What is this place?' Chimal asked. He had been quiet since Estel had died, but Kees had heard him crying when he thought nobody could hear. She did not look at him when she replied, instead scanning ahead, checking the sky and clouds.

'It is a barrowyard, a place for the dead. It is ancient, from a culture long forgotten.'

'It's huge,' Lopi said, adding, 'It's a good job Bab isn't here. Do you think there's treasure in them?'

The barrows stretched across the plateau. The rain finally slowed and stopped and, moments later, the cloud swiftly lifted, affording them with a stupendous view. Behind them was the pass they had climbed, the mountaintop still wreathed in mist, trees vanishing deep into the valley beneath. Few large plants grew amongst the barrows, apart from the odd twisted gorse and a sporadic cover of wind-blasted heather.

'The closest of the Amethyst Mountains,' Kees said, ignoring Lopi's question. She did not need to point.

Beyond the plateau, looming above several closer ridges and tops, was a giant peak, its highest flanks covered in bright white snow.

'It doesn't look purple,' Lopi sounded disappointed, 'and where are the others, I expected...'

'Just watch,' said Kees.

At that moment the sun caught the slope. The effect was extraordinary. A shimmer of bright purple light cascaded across the rock, showing where the vast veins of quartz that gave the mountains their name were located.

The group was silent, awed by the spectacle.

'Estel would have loved that,' said Chimal eventually, turning away from the others.

'From this angle only the nearest mountain is visible. As you get closer you will see all three. Now, let's go; we still have four days walking, and I'd rather not camp amongst the barrows,' Kees said.

She led the way again, the twins each leading a horse. Dhinal and Strings followed, with Chimal bringing up the rear, sometimes almost out of sight.

She would need to hunt again soon. The snares had yielded nothing in days. They had been unable to smoke and preserve the deer, instead eating all they could and simply carrying the meat as it was. It would last another day, at most two, before it became too much of a risk. She hoped they found more food soon. Once they reached the purple peaks, the group would be on their own.

Kees wondered if they would survive a journey back to Eastsea. Perhaps some of them could, perhaps just Dhinal and Strings, if they did not tarry in the Red City. Once the thick snows came, the pass would be treacherous, avalanches blocking off their route and head-high snow to hinder and stop progress. It did not take long for the trails to become impossible to walk until spring, and spring came late in the mountains.

Many ways to die.

Many thanks for reading.

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