Page 62 of Apple Boy

“I was but a nipper myself.” Adam insisted. I recalled he was twenty-five summers, so five summers older than me. When his pa discovered Aleccio’s ring, Adam must have been living at the Crown and Anchor on the City Road where the assassination of my uncle occurred.

“All’s I remember is hearing that name, Dark Harvest, repeating it, and getting a slapped arse for sayin’ it. I learned quickly that no one was to speak about it, even if they did know anything about what happened. It wasn’t worth a smarting backside to ask again, so I didn’t. I never heard mention of it until I was old enough to go to the tavern with Evan an’ Pa. There was this old fella, Vickers, a tinker who used to stop off on his way through the Pasturelands to the Mid Valen. He’d say all kinds of things he swears blind happened during the Dark Harvest. He’d have to be half-cut to talk about it though, and then we couldn’t stop him. He’d rave about babes robbed from their cribs, families vanishing—he said that he’d come upon a farmstead where he used to stop at to barter and chat. He’d found it abandoned, the livestock left untended, and the house lookin’ like the farmer and his wife had just upped and left takin’ nothin’ with them. No one paid him a blind bit of notice cos they all said he was cracked in the head. But, I wonder now, what if he was tellin’ the truth?”

The horse whinnied in alarm and pushing my head back out of the window I regained my sightline to see what was happening as our carriage was haltingly dragged forward through the throng of bodies.

“Keep back you fools!” The guards hollered, and with relief, the crowd moved out of the way to let us pass. A woman grabbed onto the coach window sill and pulled herself up on the step as we passed. She shoved her head into the carriage pleading “Help me, my lord… My ma. They stole my ma!”

“What? Who stole your mother?” The woman looked at me, dumbfounded as if she was amazed that I’d heard her plea.

“My ma… they took her!” She repeated.

“Who?” I called as she was dragged backward by a guard, her screams of “Help me, my lord they took ma—” lost amongst the crowd. Frustratingly, I did not get an answer as to who had done this crime.

Within one hundred meters we were clear of the protestors, and the coach began to speed up through the streets of The Dells district. I was relieved that we were moving apace and, now that our journey back to Copperdall was in progress I looked up to fix my gaze upon Ivon. It shocked me to see that my uncle, the hero of my boyhood, had been silently weeping, and his face was glistening with tears. Gods! The repressed trauma we had unwittingly released was hitting this city hard.

Suddenly, the carriage came to a halt, and I heard the horse cry out in alarm. I leaned to the window and pulled back the curtain once more to see a new crowd had erupted from a side street that led from the market square. The people held lanterns and torches aloft and were calling for justice. Once again we could not make progress, but now as the rioting crowd swarmed the coach we could not retreat either. We were trapped.

“Uncle, what shall we do?” I must have sounded terrified because my voice pulled Ivon from his grief and introspection. He rose and even though it was not safe, he bullishly pushed the door open and looked out on the twilight and masses of people. The coach started rocking with the weight of those pushing past. The horse whinnied with fear, and I was worried it would bolt and kill in its attempt to be free of the suffocating crush.

“Come, we must leave the carriage and continue on foot.” Ivon decided. “I must speak with Aric. If we get separated, meet up at Percheval and Wrenfrey’s. Stay safe and it is imperative you boys stay together!” Ivon warned and then stepped out of the coach. I did not even get the chance to reply to his instructions before I saw his bulky form vanish. It was as if he had just dived into a boiling dark sea, and I worried I would never see him again.

I turned to Adam whose skin appeared bloodless with terror. The coach rocked, and he pressed his palms to the ceiling to stay upright.

I felt the shrill of Adam’s fear as my own, his sense of unease lapping against my consciousness, seeking connection. “We must go!” I offered Adam my hand, and he clasped it. The unease I’d felt a moment earlier vanished now that Adam’s hand was in my own. My courage renewed “Come”, I said. I stepped from the coach with Adam at my back. We would seek a way through the rioters and find safety at the depository of Percheval and Wrenfrey until the danger passed.

At once I was jostled around like a leaf in a storm, and I fought to keep my feet on the cobbles. Being stockier than me, Adam took the lead as we attempted to cut through the crowds pouring from the streets and alleyways near market square like rats oozing from a sinking ship.

Adam’s fingers clasped me painfully. “Find a wall and stick to the edges of the crowd,” I hollered.

The memories returning to the city had enraged its population to fever-pitch, and it seemed they were all heading to the tower to seek, I don’t know what. Retribution? Justice? The council that now held the power of the city was not the one in charge when this Dark Harvest occurred. And I recalled how Ivon explained that the councilors who survived the change of rule brought on by the Dark Harvest were picked off one-by-one.

Fear tied me in tight knots, and Adam’s anxiety mingled with my own making my heart pound as if I was running full pelt. It was terrifying to be in the midst of so many people and noted that some of them suffered the same effects as the servants in the tower—their eyes glazed and tinted red as they ranted ‘I remember’ in an eerie mantra.

It was then that I saw it—a glimmer of hope by way of a mage-light at my feet. It darted off ahead to be lost in the mêlée of footfalls on the cobblestones. I tugged Adam’s hand, and he turned his expression steely and determined.

With new found confidence “This way”, I said. We followed the darting magical light. I swiftly squeezed between the bulks of two sweaty, burly men, dragging Adam with me and then found blessed space and air. The silver mage-light moved ahead directing us to follow up a flight of timber steps and across a counterweight bridge that moved between streets. We did so, and from such a high vantage point up on the bridge I could see the smoke of fires and observe the writhing throng of bodies pushing their way through the streets all heading for the Great Council’s tower. We hurriedly took the steps down from the bridge to find ourselves in a blessedly empty street. We followed the mage-light along the street, and then to the left down a darkened alleyway between tall, imposing buildings. I hoped that this was a short cut and would lead us directly to the depository and blessed safety.

My blood burned with the need to escape and find us a safe haven, but, turning a sharp corner that hope was dashed. We faced the crawling ivy and pitted smoke-blackened bricks of a building. We were at a dead end. We ground to an abrupt halt, and Adam let go of me. I didn’t understand why we had been led astray in this manner. We both stood there panting and trying to catch a breath.

“Shite!” Adam shouted furiously, his hands on his hips, the curse echoing in the alley.

“I thought you knew the way!” He complained frustratedly. The stinking alley held nothing but broken crates and barrels and rats. I turned in a circle seeking guidance from the duplicitous mage-light but it had vanished, and I scolded myself for trusting it.

“Damn it!” We were both terrified and confused about what we had done at the tower, and how the effect of that was to inspire the city to riot. The scorn in Adam’s eyes roused my temper.

“What? Do you think that among my many talents I’m a walking map too?” I barked.

“I’m new to this city, as you are, and I don’t have a bloody clue what I’m doing when it comes to this damn curse—talent—whatever you want to call it. I was following mage-light. It hasn’t failed me before, so I don’t know why it led us down a dead end.” I shot back. I immediately felt embarrassed for the fierceness my outburst. Adam was clearly alarmed by the events of this night, and his imperative was to protect and find us safety. I felt foolish and did not want to be diminished in his eyes. I’d thought I was mastering my gift and now it seemed I’d been way too cocky in trusting the mage-light.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Adam said regretfully, “We need to get off the streets. C’mon, we’ll go back the way we came and see if we’re anywhere we recognize,” he decided and reached for my hand once more. A searing heat erupted beneath my skin, and I knew that the hand in mine was branded with my ancestral mark. We both yelped and let go.

“What was that?” Adam groused, shaking his branded hand as if to put out a flame. “This is getting ridiculous, let’s just get outa here.” I could feel the anger and anxiety emanating from Adam like steam rolling from a horse. None of this was my fault and yet I felt like he blamed me for all of the things that I could not control.

But before we could take even two steps back the way we’d come a chill prickled at my skin, and I looked down to see one of the curious grates set in the cobbles not two meters in front of us. It began to glow with mage-light and then billowing mist seeped from it. It flowed and swirled around us. The mist was unscented, so it was not smoke in form. I looked closer, and within it, I saw sparks of power. The Star-fall jumped in my pocket like a dog straining on its leash at seeing a friend.

My lover and I were wrapped in bonds of mist. I turned to Adam and his confused gaze matched mine. “Winter?” He shrieked, and the fear in his voice stabbed at my guts. We could not move forward or backward. It was as if the mist was inspecting us, sniffing us out as it swirled between our legs, around our arms and torsos. I found it intimidating, and it’s probing far too intimate. Then, as swiftly as it had arrived the white vapor streamed away to congregate meters down the alley in front of us, as if to bar our exit. I found I could once again move my limbs. I took a step forward and then stalled when, before my eyes, the mist formed itself into the shape of a man and then became solid flesh and bone.

The man stood tall and proud, his black cloak fabric rippling behind as if he stood in a stiff breeze, and yet the air was still. I could not make out his features in the low light of the alley, but I did see the gleam of white teeth as his thin mouth crooked into a playful smile and then to my surprise; he bowed low.