I keep telling the story, only pausing occasionally for sips of water. I finish A New Hope. I start The Empire Strikes Back.
The noises outside get progressively louder throughout the evening. Each time, I raise my voice higher to override them.
It’s a good thing that though the thick stone walls, the sounds are too muffled to give any real insight into what’s going on outside—not that I think much is directly outside. The chapel is in the interior courtyard. Most of the fighting would be out by the front gates, or on the battlements.
As the head guard said, if the enemies make their way into the inner courtyard, then that’s it.
But two-third of the way through the Empire Strikes back, a women’s wail pierces through everything—the walls, my voice, the other sounds outside. She sounds like she is experiencing an entire life’s heartbreak at the same time as she’s ripping her throat out.
It goes on and on and on, until it breaks off abruptly.
No one seems to be in much of a story-listening mood after that. And I’m certainly not in a storytelling mood anymore. I take long sip of water, with my head turned away from the kids, before I come back and wrap up the story in a a few sentences.
The ashen-pale women with kids tuck them tight against them on the floor and close their eyes. The kids that aren’t with any guardians stay close together, in small circles that remind me of a puppy pile.
I lean back against the walls and close my eyes. I’d lie down too like everyone else, except at some point, Winfred had put his head on my lap and hasn’t moved for awhile. Not even when that woman was screaming. Which I’m glad he missed, if I’m being honest.
My hand creeps up to hold onto the sword’s hilt, which has been resting for much of the night against my thigh. I can’t use it, obviously. But it’s comforting to know it’s there.
“Miss Aurelia?” Winfred whispers.
At some point in the night, a kid had interrupted to ask my name. And I’d said Aurelia, of course, even though it’s not quite right, because there were probably those here who knew her face.
“Yes, Winfred?” I murmur back. Since he isn’t actually asleep, I can probably move him now and lie down.
But then he’d be lying on the floor, and without a pillow. There hadn’t been enough cloth scraps to go around, andhe’s already using my unraveled sling bag as the world’s saddest looking blanket. I stay in my position.
“I don’t want to die,” Winfred says.
My eyes fly open. “You’re not going to die,” I say too sharply.
He flinches, and I catch myself—even though I still sort of want to berate him for even thinking that.
In a calmer tone, I say, “No one’s getting in here. Didn’t you see them put all the pews up against the door?”
The chapel’s almost pitch black now. The candles had burned low long ago and not been replaced, and the stained glass windows don’t let in much moonlight. So I feel rather than see Winfred’s little fists twists in the fabric of my dress.
“Will the war mages come in time, Miss Aurelia?”2 Winfred asks. “My dad says that when bad people want to hurt you, the King sends them to keep us safe. And that’s why we have to pay his taxes, and tell him if we know anyone who’s mage. So he can give them training and then they come back and help.”
If I was in a mood to appreciate irony right now, I’d smile. Some of those mages—plus a lot of highly-trained assassins—are indeed right outside these castle walls. They’re just not doing any helping.
Glad to know the King’s propaganda machine is still so well-oiled though.3
That the King spreads disinformation like this while being the direct reason Winfred and I are in this situation makes the back of my throat turn sour. If he were right here, I’d kick him between the legs and in the throat.
But I swallow the feeling down. It’s not useful right now. It’s also none of my business, since I’m not even from here.
I put a hand on the top of Winfred’s head. “We don’t need the King’s mages, we have the Keep’s soldiers. The Duke and his sons are even leading them directly, and they’re all very competent and dependable.” I pause. “Well. The elder is. The younger can be more… variable. But he’s very talented and accomplishes what he sets out to. I’m sure they’ll keep you safe.”4
Winfred exhales. “Yeah… And you. You’ll protect us too, if anyone comes.”
Well… of course he’d think that. The sword had been next to me all evening. At one point, I’d seen Winfred run a curious hand down the buttery-soft leather scabbard—though I hadn’t let him take it out to examine the blade, obviously, I’m very anti-child endangerment.
“Go to sleep,” I reply in the end. “When you wake up in the morning, this will be all over and your dad will be right here to take you home.”
Though I won’t be there to see the scene of their reunion. The moment dawn breaks and it’s safe enough, I’m tearing open those doors and skedaddling straight out of here before the Silverwoods can involve me in any more of their problems. I’m just about done with Aurelia’s bad luck.
“Okay,” Winfred says, his voice regaining that distracted, sleepy quality. He gives a little sigh, and then goes silent.
God. I hope the morning doesn’t prove me a liar to Winfred.
2. It’s a long story. The short story: there are five types of magic in the universe of Chess of Blood, and war mages is one type. They’re also called Elementals, because they can use the elements—wind, water, air, fire—to fight. Guess which one Alex is.
3. I’m not sure how much Winfred’s dad actually believes what he told Winfred, but let me reassure you that it’s all false. The reality is that the King forces everyone to tell him who the mages are, and then forces those mages to work for him to expand his power and his wealth. People who don’t comply die.
Gotta admire the King for dressing up his little monopoly of power as some sort of social contract though. That’s some clever marketing.
4. I don’t think I realized I actually, legitimately, think these things about Alex until I said them. Say what you will about how psychopathic Prime!Alex is in Chess Games of Blood, he knew what he was doing. And the way a few moments ago Alex (and Luke) had sprang straight into action, and then everyone just followed their orders without a moment’s hesitation? Watching them then, I’d understood for the first time what people meant when they said stuff like “he’s been preparing his entire life for this.”
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