#6: Things to Leave

#6: Things to Leave

A Chapter by Brytt
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As Randy gets ready to leave his home, everything seems to go from bad to worse.

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            “So if we come up along this gorge,” Luther explained as Randy watched, “we can cut right through the countryside without much hassle from towns or guards.”

            They were in Luther’s living room.  Unlike Randy’s home, this house was well-kept.  The chairs in the room were both soft and blue, as was the sofa nearby.  Luther had stretched out a map on one of the end tables to walk Randy through the route to Tribeke.  Randy nodded as he scanned the map then pointed out a small dot.

            “What about this town?” he asked.

            Luther shrugged and explained, “It looks to be about a three day trip, so we will need to stop for supplies there.  It is a little town, more of a village even.  They don’t like Kynton, anyway, because he never helps them at all.”

            “Okay, then.”

            “We’ll need to get some things.  Your mom would never be able to go on foot, so we need a cart or a wagon, perhaps.  I sent a letter to a sage about something to help her fight the plague, so I’m waiting to hear back.  We’ll be needing food for a few days as well.  Right now, I’m looking at five people.”

            “Five?”

            “You, me,” Luther pointed out, “Hannah, your mother, and my uncle.  Mother wants to see him again.”

            “He’s her brother, right?”

            “Yes, and a bit younger than she is,” Luther explained.  “You will want to pack light, so only bring the most essential things.  I will most likely leave everything behind except a few pictures Mother drew and some personal things.”

            Randy leaned back in his seat, wondering what he had done to make everything go so wrong.  Life was slowly improving for him until his mother fell ill.  Now, he thought, it’s all pointless.  He was moving, with his mother, to the Exiles.   He would not really miss his home all that much, to be honest.  What he did not want to leave was not even his; it was on the other side of town, hard at work for Madison Allard.  Madison.

            “How can you just leave her behind?” Randy asked, eliciting a confused ‘hmm’ from Luther.  “You’re just gonna leave Madi - and your kid - here?”

            For a time, the only sound was Luther drumming his fingers on the map.  Then he let out a defeated sigh.

            “Our little group is quickly becoming a caravan,” he murmured.  “No.  I can’t leave them here.  They would-  They must come with us.”

            Luther stood up quickly and paced the living room.  Randy watched as his expression went from concerned to a pained fury.  The tall man suddenly screamed something in his native language and swiped at a clay vase on his mantle.  Randy jumped from his chair with a yip as shards of clay exploded around the room.  When his breath had evened out again, Randy stared at his friend, who was then leaning in a doorframe, clutching the wood panels with his back to Randy, visibly shaking with rage.

            “Lu, what-?”

            “Go.  You don’t want to see me like this.  Just go.”

            “Luther…”

            “GET OUT!”

            Randy, thoroughly terrified, hastily left the home without a backward glance at Luther.  It was one of those things that he had never seen before and never planned to see again.

            So their band was up to six, seven if you counted the baby.  It was surely starting to change Madison’s diet.  Randy had seen the young woman the night before, and she was starting to show a bit of a bump, even with her meaty frame.  It was only a matter of time before she would be unable to disguise her pregnancy.  People were bound to notice.

            When he arrived at his house, Randy collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table.  With a clatter, Hannah entered from the living room, her arms full of platters and bowls.

            “Your mother is being not ready to be getting out of the bedding,” she disclosed.  “I went in to be grabbing her eaten plates.”

            Randy’s heart jerked, but whether it was from pain or something else, he was not sure.  Forcing himself to breath, he leaned forward.

            “Hannah, what is it like?” he asked.

            “Eh?”

            “Tribeke,” Randy implored.  “What is it like?”

            Hannah set her dishes on the counter and looked around the room.  Then she sat down across from Randy, a dead glaze in her eyes and a sad smile upon her face.

            “This is hard to be told,” she paused here, then resumed.  “I may say the best way to tell is that it is family.  There is being no thing in Tribeke that the family do not handle.  We have struggling, of courses, but in ending all is good.  We take care of what is owned.  Family and friend, it is the same.”

            Randy nodded at the last part.

            “Do all the women,” he continued, “wear trousers?”

            Hannah shook her head, saying, “Nie, not all.  Sages a lot of times wear the skirts.  Some young girls are not liking the pant.  I like because of the running.  It is much easy with the pant.”

            Randy asked, “Are they all as pretty as you?”

            In spite of the heaviness of the household, Hannah smiled.  Randy noted how exceptionally white her teeth were.

            “Are all the men here as generous as you?” she returned, standing up.  “I will be… going… um, to wash the plates now.”

            “Bye.”

            “Ayah.  Goodbyes.”

            A light blush, barely noticeable, decorated Hannah’s cheeks as she left the home.  Randy watched her walk through a little window for a while, but then leaned back with a sigh.

            Of course, he thought as his eyed traced cracks in the ceiling, Luther would tell Madison what was going on.  And Madison, being the socialite that was inherent of her standing in life, would inform Anicta of the situation.  So, Randy asked himself, how well was this plan going to work?

            Given Anicta’s personality, the slave would merely swear her secrecy and go about her life as though nothing had changed.  But Madison was pampered, spoiled even.  She would never allow herself to simply betray that upbringing.  She would not challenge Luther’s plan to leave, but she would insist on bringing along the one thing that took constant care of her, and the unquestioning loyalty that Madison dedicated to Luther was not unreturned.

            Randy smiled and nodded to himself, then whispered, “She’s going to come with us.”

 

            For roughly an hour, Randy sorted through old knick-knacks and possessions looking for the things that he would not leave the home without.  In a water pail, he had packed a few sets of clothing for both himself and his mother.  He had also found a brown satchel full of thread that he had emptied and refilled with some apples, a journal, a spool of black thread with a needle, and a piece of writing charcoal wrapped in a rag.  He took the bag to the kitchen table and, just as he set it down, remembered one last item.

            Remembering that his mother had put it up in a cupboard, Randy thoroughly sorted through all of them, casting aside plates, cups, and a few tiny spice jars in search of the trinket.  When his hand finally hit something smooth and crinkled, Randy grabbed it and pulled it out: a long paper, written in a miniscule, barely legible hand.

“My dearest family, I am sorry that I have not been there for you…”

            Cautiously, ever so cautiously, Randy lay the item on the table and began the difficult work of smoothing it out as well as he could.  He had just finished when he heard the door open.

            Glancing up, he noticed Hannah carrying her dishes, her copper hair tousled about her face.  She dashed to the counter before Randy could say anything.

            “Di mahre,” she muttered as the put the plates down.  “Ky’malris vertisan...”

            “What happened?” asked Randy, folding the letter from his father in half and putting it in the bag.

            “You would not be understanding!” she shouted as she grabbed a cloth.  “Jukro-Luther has much telling to be done!”

            Randy noticed as she grumbled that three long, bloody marks ran down her left arm.  Hannah dipped the rag into a bowl that she had left some water in and began to dab at it, continuing her rant as she did.

            “And more, I just had spoke to Jukro-Luther about the leaving.  He has changing everything!  And that Ky’malra, that Danton!  He-!”

            “Danton?” Randy interrupted.  “You ran into Danton?”

            Hannah scoffed, “Bah!  It is just my dessert for going into the shadow-ways.  And still, I needs say to be ready for leaving in the dawn.”

            “Dawn?  I thought-!”

            “Nie,” Hannah scoffed with a shake of her head, “We needs to be going.  Now.  We will go in the dawn.  Jukro-Luther is having the supplies.  I not be knowing why we has to bring them girls…”

            “Is Anicta coming too?” Randy asked, half-smiling.  “Madison talked Luther into it?”

            Hannah sighed and shook her head again.

            “Nie,” she said, “Atticus did.”



© 2011 Brytt


Author's Note

Brytt
Tell me if you think anything is too fast or just plain wrong. Be critical!

~Brytt

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Added on September 18, 2011
Last Updated on September 18, 2011
Tags: werewolves, vampires, Kelae, Randy, slaves, plague, fantasy, rebellion, adventure, war, myth, mythology


Author

Brytt
Brytt

Britt, IA



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Quotes From the Innermost Circle of the Fantasy World Known as My Mind: Irony: the graduation quote at my high school has been "Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path .. more..

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