In an ideal world, one where the Colony had
not suffered through a month of deprivation and fear, Frostfire would have been
marched to the Grand Chateau at bayonet point by a disciplined squad of
militia. He would have been treated in a
manner that made it very clear that he was a prisoner, that all terms dictated
would be theirs, that he was there entirely at their sufferance.
Nothing could have been further from the
reality.
Frostfire stepped in through the Colony's gates
like a conquering general, like an Emperor surveying the land of his
possession. It didn't matter that he was
alone. He didn't need a retinue. His towering height, his lithe, athletic
build, his stone-hard scales, all gave him an edge over the broken citizens who
gave way before him, but nothing was so effective as the look of vicious
confidence in his icy eyes, and his sly, reptilian grin.
The crowd at the gates stared at him in awful
silence, too scared to even run. So,
when Frostfire demanded to know why no one was following his command and
fetching the Former Baron, it seemed they all jumped at once to run and do his
bidding.
Sarah watched from the shadows of an alleyway
and felt her heart sink.
Ellis was slumped, half-asleep, in a chair in
the library, whilst Siren, the Former Baron and Annabella each applied
themselves to one or more books. Siren
was working her way through a series of essays on Stoneskin culture, something she had been devoting more
and more time to in an effort to 'understand' their enemy. Ellis was entirely unsure of how much
progress she was making. Annabella, on
the other hand, was keeping her mind off the situation by reading the
adventuring journal of one Horatio Fessenheller, who was the first to brave the
deadly volcanic passes of Fissureblast, a district which had been wiped out by
an eruption nearly two thousand years before.
Apparently it was quite gripping.
The Former Baron was alternating between various volumes, the titles of
which were incomprehensible, murmuring to himself and making notes on a small
square of fabric torn from his shirt.
Gulliver, for his part was stretched out in a chair nearby, eyes closed,
snoring softly.
Essentially they were all just killing time
and doing what they could to manage their own guilt. Ellis was tired of it.
"Can't we do something?" he asked
for the nth time, "the people are starting to waste away out there."
"I'm startin' to waste away in
'ere," Gulliver moaned without opening his eyes.
"How many times!" snapped the
Former Baron, who had been growing tetchier the more he denied himself
rations. "The deception is
absolutely necessary. The Stoneskins
have to believe we are worse off than we are - that we're ready to break, and
sadly that means the people have to believe that too. Only Sarah's core of hopefuls can be allowed
to keep that flame alive."
"But it's just so cruel. Is it really
necessary?"
"Is there any point us even having this
argument anymore, Ellis?" Siren asked icily over the top of her book. "We've been over it again and again and
the answers are never any different. I don't
like it any more than you do, but it's not like we have another plan to get out
of this."
"But is there a plan, though? Why won't you tell us everything, Von
Spektr?"
"Because I don't want to, now please
leave me in peace to work through these calculations before-"
The library doors burst open as a small crowd
of militia and Colonists spilled in, red-faced, breathless and terrified.
The Former Baron, his annoyance at Ellis only
exacerbated by this interruption, eyed them coldly, so that they seemed to
freeze where they stood, each hoping the other would speak first. Von Spektr saved them the trouble.
"He's here, isn't he? Well about bloody time!"
"Who's here?" Ellis asked, sitting
up and staring at the crowd in confusion.
"It's Frostfire, isn't it?" asked
Siren.
"Very perceptive," the Former Baron
agreed, "and I suspect he wants to speak with us, yes?"
Someone at the front of the quivering group
nodded.
"Then we had best not keep him
waiting."
Sarah continued to watch from her shaded
alley as Frostfire paced impatiently back and forth across the street, eyeing
the militia around him - some pointing crossbows – with considerably
disdain. He didn't seem in the least bit
afraid, indeed there was such an air of confidence around him it was as if he
had already won the siege. Sarah thought
about the scenes she had witnessed the past few weeks, the despairing looks on
people's faces and wondered if, perhaps, he was right.
But no, she thought, it's not despair I read on the faces of those who come to the church
every evening. It's not defeat that's
written in their eyes when they leave.
She watched his flickering, defiant eyes and wondered, did he have any
right to such confidence?
She bowed her head, uttered a quick, awkward prayer
and then slid back through the alleyway towards the church.
“At last,” Frostfire said when he saw the Former
Baron and his young friends appear at the other end of the small square. He seemed larger than Ellis remembered, more
imposing somehow. He also had an
arrogant look to him that Ellis didn’t recall from any of their previous
meetings.
“You’ve become rather impatient, it seems,” the
Former Baron replied as he made his way towards him, “first you can’t wait for
the siege to break, and now you can’t even wait for someone to receive you
properly.”
“I don’t need to wait,” the Spiketail snarled,
gesturing around him, “I’ve already won.”
“Oh, so it would seem, wouldn’t it? And yet…” the old man trailed off.
“And yet what?”
“Why are you doing this Frostfire? Haven’t you played the pawn enough already?”
“Yes, yes I have, but I’m nobody’s pawn this time.”
Von Spektr nodded with sympathy.
“Revenge,” he said, “over your mate.”
“And thousands of others. It’s time my kind stopped letting ourselves
be used and finally took back what is ours.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” the Former Baron agreed, “and
it makes perfect sense that you would rally the tribes of Ashvault together and
strike out for the human districts to lay waste and conquer. Perfect sense. I understand completely.”
“I don’t need your understanding. I’m here for your capitulation.”
“Oh, yes, yes.
Yes of course you are, and that was all to be expected as well
really. You knew us all at one time or
another. You wanted to go easy on us,
even if on nowhere else because of that connection. Again, I really do understand. It’s so very clear, so very obvious, so very…
predictable.”
“What are you trying to get at?”
“That your plans and schemes are not your own, my
dear Frostfire. That you are being used,
again.”
“Nonsense,” Frostfire replied, his scales bristling
with anger.
“Is it?” the Former Baron prodded one more time.
Frosftire exploded.
“This is my path, old man, my decision, mine alone! Don’t tell me I’m being used when for the
first time in my life I’m taking my destiny in my own hands and-”
“It’s okay, I’m not going to fight you.”
“What?” Frostfire seemed deflated slightly by the
sudden change in tack.
“I surrender, for now. I was only telling you the truth, Frostfire,
but don’t worry. I didn’t expect you to
listen. I knew which way this would go
months ago, and there’ll be time yet for you to see, but first,” the Former
Baron smiled, then cupped his hands to his ears, “do you hear that?”
Frostfire tilted his head and listened. Ellis suspected that Stoneskin hearing was
much sharper than a human’s, but he certainly couldn’t hear anything.
“I hear nothing.”
“No, no I suppose you wouldn’t, but I do.”
“And what do you hear, old man?”
“I hear a change in the wind.”
And, as if on cue a rusty, clanking scrap metal sort
of sound began to echo throughout the Colony.
Someone was ringing the church bell.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please let me know what you think of this episode!