Tales Of Syphona Fan Fiction ❯ Adbertos ❯ Chapter 11-Blame ( Chapter 11 )

Anna stirred in her sleep, scrunching her eyes shut and tugging the blanket to her chin. Lying completely still she willed herself to go back to sleep only to sigh heavily and sit up moments later. Her mind was cloudy with the fog of sleep filling her with confusion as she tried to recall how she came to be where she was, the previous night slowly resolving itself in her mind.

Blinking in the dull light that crept through the window she looked around the room and found herself alone. She frowned, yawning mightily as she pushed back the quilt. Kratos had said that he meant to leave at first light, so where was he? She found her boots and jammed her feet into them before crossing the sparse room to the small window that looked out towards the front of the dwelling.

A dirt road crossed before the House of Salvation, winding its way through wild hills covered in tussocks of grass and flowers. The sun was barely peeping on the horizon and in the soft glow of morning the colors of the world were muted. The world was still, holding its breath in anticipation of the dawn of a new day. Sudden movement caught her attention and she turned her gaze to spy Kratos rounding the building.

Anna frowned as she tried to imagine what he was doing. Perhaps he was going to find Noishe, or maybe he was making sure they had not been followed. She didn’t imagine him to be gathering information for the journey ahead, for that he surely needn’t look any farther than the priest downstairs.

Stretching she turned back to the room, a washstand stood nearby with a stack of clean towels and a jug of water. As she poured the water out into the basin she noted with some surprise that the water was still warm. Splashing her face and neck Anna scrubbed her face before wiping away the water with a fluffy towel.

Perhaps she had time to offer her prayers at the alter before breakfast, the priest had kindly offered and Anna sorely wished to commune with the Goddess. As she made her way down the narrow spiraling steps the smell of food assaulted her and set her mouth to watering. With an apologetic glance at the alter she followed her nose towards the source of the aroma. She found the priest from the previous night in a small alcove that served as a kitchen, stirring a kettle set over a fire.

“Ah, so you are awake, are you?” he greeted her with a smile. “Your friend went out early, so he did. No matter, he will soon return. Shall you take something to break your fast while you await him?”

“Please,” Anna replied, unable to keep a smile from her face.

She glanced around to take in her surroundings. A fireplace took up most of the room, the bricks sooty black, the kettle hanging in the hearth matching. There was no table to speak of, but a small bit of shelve stood near the fireplace. At the moment it held a large bowl and a small clay jar, a sturdy wash bucket sat on the ground beneath. On the other side of the room was a door and Anna found herself curious as to where it might lead.

She turned her attention back to the priest; he was a small man, plump and ruddy, extruding friendliness. He pointed behind her at a shelve above her head where stacks of wooden bowls were stored. “Here, bring a bowl and I’ll see you well fed. It may not be much, but there is plenty for all.”

Fetching a bowl she crossed the small room to receive her portion from the kettle. The priest filled the dish with a ladle of thick porridge, topping it with a handful of apple slices from the large bowl and a drizzle of honey from the clay jar. “There now, we have some cream if you care for any. And some cold milk as well. There is an chest to keep them cool just outside the door there.”

“Thank you,” Anna smiled. “Your generosity surely pleases Martel who watches over us. I shall offer a prayer to her that you may continue to be blessed with the ability to offer comfort to us all.”

“Yes, yes, quite,” the little priest smiled softly, his face flushed.

Anna found a small cup and left through the small door across the room. She stepped out behind the House of Salvation, well hidden from the road. The chest the priest had spoke of sat in the shadows of the building, two glass jars within full of ice cold milk and cream.

It was quiet here, and peaceful, something she had experienced precious little of as late. She settled down to eat with her back against the building, spooning down porridge with bits of apple and cream. Somewhere beyond the House of Salvation birds began their morning songs, heralding the new day. The sun warmed the hillsides and small animals began to stir.

She quickly finished the porridge and returned the bowl to the kitchen before retreating to the large, airy room where the alter stood. The sanctuary took up most of the House of Salvation, the alter set back against the far curve of the room. She approached slowly, her eyes focused on the statue of Spiritua.

The image of Spiritua was cast in gold, glowing as the rays of the morning sun streamed through the windows. The very air around the alter was bathed in a golden light, motes of dust glittering like crystals. Anna knelt to pray, bowing her head to her clasped hands. The silence was intimidating and she felt it would be sacrilege to break it so she mouthed the words of her prayers knowing Martel would hear her heart.

***

Kratos moved fluidly through the movements his old sword master had taught him long, long ago. He was restless, ready to move on but knowing that he couldn’t - not yet. He advanced on an imaginary enemy, retreated, then pressed the attack again. The movements were as familiar to him as breathing and required as much effort.

Noishe lay nearby, watching silently with his head on his paws. The creature’s eyes followed the sword as it cut the air with an intelligence other canines didn’t possess. He yawned, shaking his head roughly and looking back towards the House of Salvation.

Kratos paused, following Noishe’s gaze, “We’ll leave this place soon enough, but it will go easier for us if Anna is well rested. The path ahead of us is not the one I had plotted.”

And that was the crux of it, all his well-laid plans had been torn asunder. When he and Noishe had begun their journey Kratos had not figured a human into their plans. He snorted impatiently as he took up his exercises once more. In truth his plans had not be as well-laid as he would like to imagine; he had left with scarcely a thought in his head but to run as far as he could.

He swung harder than he had intended, the force of the movement forcing him to move his foot out of the stance he held. Burgundy eyes narrowed in irritation, he was letting his emotions make him reckless and that wouldn’t do. He who prided himself on remaining cool and calm in the midst of battle was loosing his control over… over what?

He sheathed his sword, looking back towards the House of Salvation. He would have liked to lay all his irritation at the feet of the child that waited back there, yet that was neither noble nor entirely accurate. He had been irritated long before he came across Anna. Likely long before the child had been born.

Noishe was studying him intently, his head raised and his ears pricked forward. Dark eyes glittered knowingly, both comforting and irksome. No, Kratos admitted to himself, Anna was not the source of his disquiet, only another challenge along the path he had chosen.

“We’ll head for Asgard,” Kratos told his companion. “We are not far and should be able to acquire supplies there, and news. The dwarf they spoke of in Luin could be gone by now.”

Noishe yawned again, returning his head to his paws and studying Kratos with bright eyes.

“Depending on what we learn it might be best if we cross Hakonesia Peak,” Kratos continued, ignoring the look Noishe was giving him.

A deep sigh came from his companion, tinged with exasperation to Kratos’ ears. He fixed Noishe with a pointed gaze, meeting the canine’s discerning stare. Sometimes Kratos felt as if Noishe knew him better than he knew himself. At the moment the look his longtime companion gave him was both perceptive and teasing.

“What would you have me do?” he asked, shaking his head and turning his gaze to their surroundings. “I’ve broken my oath and deserted my station. I infiltrated one of the ranches and escaped with a high value prisoner. There can be no forgiveness for what I’ve done, nor do I desire it; neither of us can go back now.”

Noishe stood, shaking the dust from his fur and padded to Kratos’ side. He whined softly, licking the man’s hand and pressing against his side. Kratos smiled softly, stroking the creature’s head and scratching behind his oversized ears.

“Whatever it is that we started out to do is behind us now,” Kratos muttered under his breath. “Now we have a new objective and a new purpose.”

Noishe seemed content with that response and turned towards the House of Salvation. He paused after a few steps to look back at Kratos, his eyes beckoning him to follow. With a final look towards the distant hills Kratos pursued his friend, slowly walking along the rocky trail that led back towards the road.

The sun was fully risen by the time the two returned to the House of Salvation, promising an uncomfortably warm day. Noishe paused at the back of the building, leaving Kratos to walk around to the front alone. It was for the best, as the small yard at the entrance to the sanctuary was full of travelers.

His eyes swept over the people milling about; an older man stood near the road with his dog talking to two young men. A wagon was near the door, an exhausted ox in its shafts. Voices were coming from inside, hushed in reverence.

Travelers on pilgrimage, Kratos thought as he entered the sanctuary. Likely they have come across the Peak. It might be wise if we lay low until sundown, then leave quietly through the back door.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light he glanced towards the alter, making note of the number of travelers who had stopped to rest. A young woman was speaking to the priest that had welcomed them the previous night while two others knelt before the golden statue of Spiritua. He let his gaze pass over them, his eyes narrowing in contempt at their feeble faith. He spied another group near the base of the stairs and turned his attention to them.

Anna was among them, a fact that irritated him to no end. Why couldn’t she listen to him for once and stay in the room like he had asked? Did she not realize the danger of mingling with these strangers?

His inner turmoil came to a crashing halt as he noticed her face. She looked troubled and her face fell even more when she caught sight of him. His attention immediately shifted to her companions, eyes widening with recognition and alarm as he hurried across the room, pulling Anna from amongst their midst.

“Kratos, no, let me explain!” Anna tried to pull from his grip, grasping at his arm as he attempted to draw his sword. “You don’t understand!”

“I understand enough,” he growled, pushing her behind him. “These people would sooner see you sold to the Desians.”

“No, no!” the little priest came hurrying over, waving his hands in despair. “Please, you mustn’t fight here! This is a House of Salvation - no place for swords.”

“We have no wish to fight,” the old woman said, her voice calm. “I give my word, in the presence of this good Father in Martel’s own house. We are not here to reclaim you.”

“You sang a different tune two days past,” Kratos growled, his eyes darting from face to face. The old woman they had called Boss stood before him with a calm air of authority; beside her were Bratha and the other man. The boy and his mother had been kneeling in prayer at the alter, but now they both looked up in alarm.

Anna touched his arm, looking up at him beseechingly. “Please, let me explain. They aren’t bad people.”

Kratos narrowed his eyes. “I know you wish to see the best in everyone, but these people sell their own kind to the Desians.”

“Their story is not so very different than yours,” Anna said softly, one brow arched pointedly. “Please, hear them out before you cast judgment against them.”

Kratos studied her closely, then turned to the group of slavers. “I suppose that is your wagon out front?”

“Yeah,” Bratha answered sullenly. “Thanks to you we’re down to the one ox. Horses were long fled along with the other one.”

“Enough of that Bratha,” Boss replied, fixing him with a firm look. “I won’t hear any more of it.”

“Yes Boss,” he muttered, still shooting daggers at Kratos.

Kratos glanced down at Anna, her eyes still pleading, then up at the anxious priest who still hovered nearby. “Father, if you would allow us the use of your rooms above and see that we are not disturbed?”

“Yes, yes, quite,” the little man nodded. “But I will have no bloodshed in this House of Salvation. All are welcome to sanctuary here, regardless of their crimes.”

***

Anna followed Kratos nervously, the slavers climbing the stairs ahead of them. She had known the conclusion Kratos would jump to upon finding her in their midst, yet she had hoped for a better reaction. She really couldn’t blame him seeing that quite recently they had been attacked and held prisoner by the very people she was begging him to give a chance.

Kratos ascended just ahead of her, tensed for a betrayal Anna was sure would never come. His hand hovered over the hilt of his sword as his eyes drilled into the backs of the older woman and the two men. The boy and his mother seemed to shrink into the shadows ahead of the others, attracting nothing more than an occasional suspicious glance from the swordsman.

Anna sighed softly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. In truth she had been terrified when the group had first entered the House of Salvation. It had been the mother and her son who had happened upon her at the alter, the other woman’s eyes growing wide with shock as the boy cried out in surprise.

Anna’s first instinct had been to run, which she had - right into Bratha. The memory of the large man’s intense glare - some strange combination of anger, surprise and delight - made her shiver. She looked up the stairs to where Bratha disappeared on the landing; the large man still made her uneasy.

Kratos waiting at the top of the stairway, looking down at her in exasperation. The others had disappeared into the room off the landing leaving the two of them alone for a moment.

“This is foolishness, I hope you realize that,” he muttered. “I want you to sit as close to the door as possible. If I tell you to run then you will run. Noishe is waiting out back, he’ll see you safely away from here.”

“Kratos, it’s not like that,” Anna sighed heavily. “They were forced into this, it isn’t a choice they made.”

“Everyone has a choice Anna.”

With those words he entered the room and Anna followed. A small table and four chairs sat on one side of the room. Kratos had taken a seat and waved Anna to the chair beside him, nearest the door. The mother and the boy sat on the bed, Bratha pacing in front of them. Boss and the other man sat in the chair across from them.

“Well then,” Boss said, eyes darting around the room. “I suppose first thing we ought to get clear is this: we didn’t come all this way tracking you. Your girl there surprised us when we turned up here.”

“You expect me to believe you?” Kratos said with narrowed eyes. “Your word is worthless to me.”

“We’re wasting our time here Boss,” Bratha complained, his eyes burning with irritation. “Ain’t none of their business what we do or why we do it.”

“We owe them an explanation brother, if we would ask them questions,” the other man said calmly, his eyes focused on Anna.

“Don’t owe them a thing Bronn,” Bratha grumbled, resuming his pacing.

“You’ll forgive my sons,” Boss said wearily, meeting Kratos’ gaze levelly. “This trade has made Bratha a bit testy; it doesn’t suit any of us in truth.”

“If you are loathe to practice the trade there can be nothing to stop you from quitting it,” Kratos replied without a hint of remorse.

“I’m finding this all a bit confusing,” Anna interrupted, glancing from face to face. “I know he is Bratha, and you are Bronn,” she nodded to the man seated next to Boss. “But I’m unsure of the rest of your names. I’m Anna, and this is Kratos.”

“Anna!” Kratos turned towards her, disapproval heavy in his eyes.

“Wise child,” Boss smirked. “They call me Boss, but I was given the name of Maege by my parents. These two here are my sons, Bratha and Bronn. The woman is Elise, Bronn’s wife, and the boy’s called Alek, their son.”

“So Maege,” Anna started. “You said before that you did not chose this way of life, that you had to because of the Desians.”

“That is so,” Maege nodded. “Used to be we were wanderers, gypsies of a sort. We roamed from place to place, giving little shows and trading. For countless generations our family has traveled thus. Easy days of music and laughter, friends and a warm welcome where ever we might go.”

“If you had such a life how did the Desians make you slavers?”

Anna’s question hung in the air, seeming to swell in the silence. Maege looked down at her hands, her forehead creased. Bratha cursed under his breath, hitting the dresser with the side of his fist. Alek chewed his lip, watching his mother, who had locked gazes with Bronn. Elise gave a small nod, turning her attention to Alek as Bronn turned back to those at the table.

“Perhaps if we start back at the beginning,” the man started, looking up at Anna. “Several years ago we were traveling along this very road, heading towards Luin and Hima for trading. Our wagon was full of wonderful things from Palmacosta and we had already had great luck in Asgard.”

“That’s where I got my horse,” Bratha interrupted. “The one you two chased off. He was the best horse I’ve ever had. Those people in Asgard practically gave him to me for some dusty old books.”

Maege silenced her son with a look and Bronn continued, “We were only a day or so from Luin when we were attacked. To be fair the people in Asgard had warned us of the danger but we had never been bothered before. If I had it to do over we’d never gone, we’d have turned back towards Palmacosta.”

“I take it the Desians offered you your lives and in exchange charged you with the task of bringing others to their deaths,” Kratos snorted. “You would have been better off falling to their swords.”

“We would never!” Bratha erupted. “If it had been that simple we’d have run far from them and never returned. We know how to disappear, go to ground.”

“But it is a difficult thing when they ransom one of your children,” Bronn hung his head. “They took her from us, telling us we could have her back if we brought them others.”

Anna stared silently at Bronn, her skin crawling.

“We agreed,” Maege took up the story. “The Desians told us they wanted strong humans; if we didn’t bring them the right sort then they would keep the child. We went back to Asgard and asked for any men that would be willing to hire themselves out as guards for our little caravan. Three young ones jumped at the chance and we took them with us, handing them over to the Desians.”

“We demanded my daughter back in exchange,” Bronn said, his voice cracking. “They told us they would have to test the three we brought them, to see if they were the right sort they were looking for.”

“They weren’t,” Anna breathed softly, looking from face to face. She stopped when she reached Bronn, holding his gaze. “Your daughter, what was she called?”

“We called her Maribelle.”

‘Anna… run…’

She stood suddenly, those in the room staring at her in confusion. Those last words echoed in her mind, memories clashing with the reality she faced. Kratos took her arm and pulled her back into her chair.

“You came from the ranch, didn’t you?” Elise asked, staring hard at Anna. “The one they called the Asgard ranch?”

Anna opened her mouth, but no sound would come out. She stared at her lap, clasping her hands together.

“That is where I found her,” Kratos answered, watching Anna closely. “She had escaped.”

‘No,’ Anna thought. ‘They caught me and you rescued me. But I was stupid so I ran away from you and they caught me again. You should have let them keep me.

Elise had come to the table now, crouching in front of Anna. “Please tell me, did you know her? Did you happen to see our Maribelle?”

Anna stared at the woman; everything felt so surreal. How could this be happening? What were the chances?

“Anna?”

She looked up to find Kratos staring at her with concern, or perhaps it was confusion. It was difficult to say. She looked back at Elise, who watched her with pleading eyes full of hope. The words she had to speak would forever shatter that hope.

“I knew her,” Anna said softly, looking down at her hands.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Elise breathed. “Was she well? Do you think we could free her? If you escaped there must be a way-”

“No,” Anna interrupted, her eyes filled with tears. The relief on Elise’s face quickly melted, turning to disbelieving horror. “It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry. If it weren’t for me….”

“What are you saying?” Bratha breathed menacingly. “What happened to the girl? Where is she?”

Anna looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I killed her.”