The Exile Son: Forsaken Land

The winter breeze bit at Lenara’s rosy cheeks as she walked through the desolate, grey fields searching for any potatoes that hadn’t died. There were others with her, young children, and the elderly - those who could not be made useful in other ways. Lenara already held a potato in her possession, but she stayed to find more to give to one of the other fieldworkers. The shrill cry of a little girl caught Lenara’s attention. “I found one!” the little girl jumped up and down as best as her gaunt frame allowed.

An old woman, wrapped in thick, mud-stained garments shoved the girl into the pale soupy earth and snatched the potato from her hands. “It’s best to look after your elders, sweetheart.”

The words echoed in Lenara’s mind. Her eyes drifted down to the stump on her right hand that was her ring finger. She felt the icy bite of the guardsman’s dagger just as it was the day it removed her finger from her hand. Lenara’s knuckles whitened as she clenched the potato in her hand. Kurena.

A cry bounded across the field from the girl as the old woman walked off with the potato. Lenara approached the girl and lifted her out of the thick muck. She wiped mud and tears from the sobbing girl’s face.

“Why would she do that?” The girl asked.

“Because she’s a nasty old witch who only cares for herself,” Lenara said. “She’s always been like that, even when I was as little as you.” Lenara fingered the stump on her hand.

“It was the first good tater I had.”

Lenara gave a sympathetic smile and offered her potato to the small child. “Well, you can have mine.”

The girl’s dull eyes lit up. “Really?”

Lenara nodded. “My mum runs the tavern the garrison drinks at, I can make do without a few rations.” Lenara patted the girl’s head. “Let's go bring this to the harvest master.”

The pair left the destitute mud patch. They stopped at a shoddy brown table at the field’s entrance. The harvest master was a bald man with a jagged scar trailing from his chin to his nose which missed its tip. The man looked like a pig; he turned his hard gaze towards the two girls. “Found something for the army to eat?”

“This one did.” Lenara gently pushed the girl forward.

The girl placed the potato on the desk. “Here you go, sir.”

There was tired, disappointed look in the harvest master’s eyes as he stared at the child’s offering. “Alright, here’s your token for rations, bring it to the garrison and they’ll give you what you need.” He handed a small wooden token to the girl and waved the pair off.

“What’s your name?” Lenara asked the girl.

“My mum named me Senne. What’s yours?”

“Lenara. You should come by the tavern; my mother could always use more help and you’d have a chance to get more food for your family.”

Senne smiled. “Okay! I’ll talk to my mum about it.”

Lenara tousled Senne’s hair. “I hope to see you soon.”

Senne ran off towards the garrison building while Lenara continued down the empty road towards the tavern. The town’s so empty since the army took the men and boys for the army. I hope Thurban is safe, Lenara’s thoughts drifted to her brother as she walked home. She still remembered the day her brother and father were taken by the soldiers and her mother’s cries.

Thurban’s words rang through her head. “we’ll come back to you and mother. I promise you, Lenara.”

Lenara breathed deeply. Just be safe brother. She thought as she entered the tavern.

A room full of soldiers greeted her with blank stares before returning to their drinks. Her mother shoved a tray full of drinks in her hand. “Fourth table. How were the fields?”

“Well, I gave my find to a girl, Senne.”

Lenara’s mother scowled at her. “Why?”

“We get enough servicing the soldiers,” Lenara said, “and she’s willing to help out here.”

“In return for some of our rations?”

“What’s wrong with earning some extra food for her family!”

“It takes away from our family." Her mother placed a hand on Lenara's cheek. "If the situation was different, I wouldn’t say no, but now?”

“She’ll work for it. I know she will.”

Her mother shook her head. “Lenara, you can’t take care of everyone you think you can help. Now go on, the fourth table needs their drinks.”

The day progressed as usual around the tavern. A damp cold began to burrow into the tavern. Lenara retrieved several logs from the back room, one of which had a faint, bitter smell to it. She set the logs in the firepit and lit a match. Lenara dropped the match on the bitter log. It lit immediately.

Her mother’s voice called from across the room, “Lenara! Beer, back corner.”

Lenara moved to retrieve a pitcher from behind the bar and hurried to the back. She poured beer for a grizzled man with a blond beard. The events of the field played out in Lenara’s head. That miserable crone. Death would be mercy to her and everyone else in the village. Always treating everyone like shit. She bit her lip until it bled.

“You okay girl?” his green eyes pierced through her like the point of a spear.

“Hm? Oh, I’m fine. Did I pour too much ale?”

“Not at all,” The man said, “There’s just a look about you that I’ve seen before.”

“I’m just lost in thought, that's all.” Lenara said.

The man nodded; he flashed a small smirk. “I understand.”

Something about the man made her believe him. “You’re not from around here.”

He smiled. “Not many travelers come this way?”

“Not since I was little. Now the only people who go anywhere are the soldiers.”

“And everyone else slaves away in the fields.” The man took a drink from his mug.

Lenara nodded.

“Shame those who took power only use it to abuse everyone below em.”

“Words like those will get you flogged, sir. Or worse.”

“Truth is the truth, girl. No hiding from it. Now, go on. I’m sure you’ve got more tables to attend to.”

Lenara went about the tavern serving food and drinks. Truth. Her thoughts returned to Kurena Truth is, she’s going to die.

***

Only the stars lit the night. Lenara walked at a brisk pace, her head covered by the hood of her father’s old cloak. If I can thank Kurena for anything it’s for living on the outskirts of town. She came upon her destination, a ramshackle hut that had been worn away by time and the weather. Lenara inhaled the cold air. It steeled her mind. The night was quiet, it felt as if it were observing her. The worn door of Kurena’s hut stared at Lenara, dared her to enter. Lenara drew the spare butcher’s cleaver she had taken from the tavern and opened the door. It was dark inside the hut. There was a faint, familiar, bitter smell wafting out of the hut. The cracked husk of a log gave enough light for Lenara to see the vague shapes of a table, and a lumpy mass atop what looked to be a bed. Perhaps I should take her finger first. Fair payment for mine. Lenara considered the idea, then shook it from her head. She whispered to herself, “You’re better than that, better than her.”

Lenara continued forward. Her footsteps thudded against the ground despite her best efforts to remain silent.

The lumpy mass shifted. Although she couldn’t see it, she felt Kurena’s gaze on her. “Eh? Who the - who the fuck are you?” Kurena rose from the bed, she was quick for an old woman. She began to shout, “Someone, help!”

Lenara bolted forward, tackling the elderly woman into her bed. It was a quick struggle ending with Lenara atop Kurena. “I’m going to put you out of everyone’s misery, hag.”

Before Kurena could reply a loud thump startled the pair. A voice called out from the fire pit. “Don’t mind me girl, I’ve just come to watch you work. I just need a little light to see it.”

A chill ran down Lenara’s spine. That voice. It couldn’t be.

With a few clicks of flint and steel clashing sparks flew onto the log. The piece of wood ignited immediately. The man from the tavern looked up at her. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

Kurena shook under Lenara. “What are you doing? Get this mad bitch off me!”

Lenara blinked. The log lit as quick as ours at the tavern. But those are supposed to go to people whose family serves in the army. “Who did you steal those from? Someone who actually needed them I suppose.”

“Her son serves in the army.” The man said. “Does a good job of grinding people under his boot heel. Killed a few friends of mine too.”

“Lukas is a good boy!” Kurena said.

“Good at following orders like a dog. And a mad one at that.”

“No one ever said you have a son.” Lenara said.

“He’s a bastard. His father abandoned Kurena and Lukas. Then Lukas ran out on her too as soon as he was old enough. I’m willing to wager that he sends food back home to put himself at ease.”

Lenara cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

The man placed a second log in the fire, his eyes were fixed on the bright, dancing flames. “No matter who you are, abandoning family will drive a knife into your heart. From everything that I know of the man, there’s some small part of him that cares for his mother. But, with a broken family, it’s not hard to see why he became what he is now.”

Lenara watched tears fill Kurena’s eyes as the old woman said, “he was always busy when he served the king. Now he keeps the people's peace.”

The man scoffed as he rose from the fire. “‘The people's peace.’ You fuck over your neighbors while your son provides enough for you to get by. All the while he’s sacking and conquering new lands ‘for the people.’” He kicked over a wicker basket filled with food.

Anger boiled Lenara’s veins once more. “You’d let a little girl and her family starve all while hording more food than most people around here could ever dream of?” Lenara raised the cleaver.

“Don’t disfigure her face,” the man said. “I’m going to need her head intact.”

“No, no!” The air turned foul as Kurenna soiled her bedclothes.

Lenara stuffed the blanket into the old woman’s mouth. “I’m going to need something better than a cleaver then.”

The man drew a dagger and handed it to Lenara. “The heart is always a good place to aim for or the throat. Faster, and an easier death than most ways.”

The old woman’s muffled cries filled the room. Lenara took the blade from the man in her left hand and placed the tip on Kurena’s blanket-covered throat. She looked Kurena in the eye and hesitated. Lenara glanced at her missing finger. She drove the blade down with all her weight. Kurena’s cries turned to gurgles. Panic slowly drained from Kurena’s eyes as death embraced her. Lenara leaned forward and whispered into Kurena’s ear, “Be at peace, your misery and the misery you inflict is over.”

Kurena gurgled one last time in response. It was a sad, pathetic sound.

A feeling began to overcome Lenara. One that she never would have thought she would feel towards Kurena. Pity. She deserved to die. But to live as such a horrible woman and be hated by everyone with no loved ones in her life. Was it a life at all? Lenara brushed a few strands of hair out of the dead woman’s face. She felt a gaze fall upon her. Lenara turned to find the man watching her. “Who are you?”

“Thomas. Thomas Rakeheart. I serve the true rulers of this realm and I await their return.”

“I’m afraid that doesn’t mean much to me, Thomas Rakeheart.”

Thomas chuckled. “And it shouldn’t. My order is one that deals in shadows and death, although skullduggery has only recently come to be a skill most of us value. We are former knights of Aegarn turned traitors. At least that’s what the tyrants of this land will call us.”

“Then why are you telling me this?” Lenara asked.

“Because you’re our newest recruit.”

An uneasiness settled in Lenara’s stomach. “I’m not a-”

“Murderer? Yes, you are. You just proved it.” Thomas pointed to Kurena’s corpse.

“I was going to say ‘knight.’”

“You don’t need to be one. Just be loyal and want better for Aegarn and her people.”

“My mother-”

“Will be fine. Stop making excuses, you know I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. I'm sure you're aware that killing one old woman isn’t going to improve anything for your family and neighbors. If you really give a damn about them, you’ll come with me and fight the people responsible for their suffering.”

Thomas’ words struck hard. Lenara did want better for her family, for Senne, for everyone in town. The thought of seeing people wallow in the muck for the chance at scraps chased away most of the uneasiness that she felt. “When will we leave?”

“There’s no time for heartfelt goodbyes if that’s what you're asking.” Thomas approached Kurena’s body and plucked his dagger from her throat. He wiped the blade clean on the blanket before sheathing it. “I know what I’m demanding of you and the pain it will cause you and your mother, but you will see one another again.”

Lenara glanced at the food Kurena had stockpiled. “Can we get this to the tavern? My mother will make sure it gets handed out fairly.”

Thomas nodded. “I’ll take care of it. You’re going to wait for me on the road heading west out of town.”

“I’ll meet you there then.” Lenara took several slow steps to the door, her hand gripped the cold, brass handle.

“Oh, and Lenara,” Thomas said.

Lenara turned to look at the man.

“Welcome to the Final Guard.”