A Fool’s Errand
A figure slipped closer to my vantage point, keeping to the shadows. Uncle Tarlich looked up, his sharp, rugged features confirming his identity, as if the shapeless woods garments would not have already done so. An invader in their garish uniforms and body armor could never be mistaken for one of our own. I kept searching as Tarlich came closer, but a second figure did not appear.
“What happened? Where is Dame Bortha?” I kept my voice low, though panic gripped my belly. I searched the lower slope for sight of her stooped form.
“She refused to budge, kept ranting on about revenge. Come, Gesthie. They are almost to the village.” He gripped my arm, urging me into the dense brush that was our rally point.
“No.” I wrenched away and shrugged off my pack. I’d carry her out if I had to, I thought, slipping back down the hill.
“Gesthie, don’t be a fool, she won’t come.” I ignored Tarlich’s urgent whisper. She had to come with us. I had not finished my apprenticeship with her yet! I kept to the swift ,steady pace that was not quite a run, as she had taught me long ago. There was time, her house was outside the village proper. There would be time… The phrase kept running through my mind as a prayer.
Ahead, I could see the neat beds of the plants she used to treat all kinds of illness and injury. They had been my study since I was old enough to see over her work table. There was no sign of the invaders yet. The profusion of growth gave good cover to reach the kitchen door unnoticed. I paused for a moment to listen.
“Rain and sun the seed requires; to sprout, grow strong and bloom…” The soft notes of Dame Bortha’s favorite planting song drifted to my incredulous ears. I rushed in. She was sitting in her chair, her browned hands resting under the shawl covering her lap. Bortha’s sharp gaze pinned me where I stood.
“You are a fool, but no more than I have been.” She smiled at me then, banishing the fear that had possessed me. “My da was a warrior, like Tarlich, and he taught me what he knew. I turned my back on his teaching and devoted my life to healing instead, but I never forgot. Now, I understand his choice.” She looked down as she drew an ancient weapon from under the shawl. “I promised him I would keep this against need. The aliens will come, but they will not leave.”
“But Dame, you are throwing your life away, that old boomer will not even pierce what they wear.”
Her golden eyes were scornful – and impatient. “Everything is prepared for their welcome. Child, I would only slow you down, you know this. I have lived my life. Yours is before you. Leave me to do this one last thing to help.”
Her eyes caught mine again. “Gesthirian, do not forget what I have taught you, but also, learn what Tarlich can teach. By the door is a pack with all I have to give you. Go now, quickly.”
It was as if her will pushed me to the door. I reached for the pack and noticed the sacks along the wall. What?
“GO!”
Startled, I ran. I could hear shouts now, coming from the other side of the village. I slowed enough to watch my step in the wood. A small brown body bounded across my path and I heard crashing in the brush behind me.
“Cinta!” a young voice cried. A child stumbled out of the bush, his face streaked with tears of frustration. “She keeps running away!” his voice broke in a sob.
I hugged him to me when I heard a sharp CRACK echo through the woods. Instinct caused me to turn my back to the valley and hold the child in what protection I could give. I thought of the sacks as a sound like a landslide deafened me and wind tore through the treetops.
My breath caught in a sob. “Dame Bortha!” I looked back to see smoke rising in black billows. Uncle Tarlich was right. It was a fool’s errand – or was it?
The child squirmed in my too tight grasp, reaching for the cat. I set him down and took a firm grip on his little hand. It was her last and most important lesson, I thought. I looked down at the child and smiled. No, it wasn’t a fool’s errand.
“Come, Mylt. Cinta was not running away, she was leading you to safety.” I lifted him to my arms again and the cat bounded ahead, to join the others who had survived.
