The Poison of Woedenwoud by K. Ferrin

Author:K. Ferrin [Ferrin, K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780990489061
Publisher: Pixie9 Press
Published: 2018-02-02T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Celene, Amalya, Fern, and Dreskin gathered around Ling and Drake. Their faces were smeared with the ash and debris from the fire, and Ling shuddered as she considered where that ash might have come from. The sun was bright, but it came through the smoke in odd beams and sunbursts, casting heavy shadow everywhere else. The smoke was thick, causing her friends to cough and choke, the debris in the air irritating their lungs.

“A disease of some sort?” Dreskin asked, repeating Ling’s question from only a moment before. “There are human and animal bones in that pile.”

“They would never do this, not even in response to disease,” Celene said. “They value their dead as much as they do the living. They would never…” Celene’s chest heaved in grief, and Amalya whimpered beside her, her overly large, innocent child eyes open wide with fear. “Such a thing is not permitted in Brisia. It’s not illegal, but a law isn’t required for this, not here. They simply would never…” her words faded away.

“Is this everyone? I mean, someone had to pile them up and light the fire, but who?” Ling asked.

Dreskin shook his head. “Nantes is small by Middelhaern standards, but there is a sizable population here. Quite large indeed if you factor in their lemfreu.”

“Well, it seems we need not worry overmuch about being seen,” Fern said.

“Let’s just hope there are plenty of horses still around,” Drake said quietly. “They are not far behind us. We need to hurry.”

The Brisians were a well-ordered people, and Nantes reflected their preference for order. The harbor was at the city center, and the rest of the town radiated from that center in evenly spaced roads like the wooden supports of a paper fan. The roads were well maintained and wide, and the houses that lined the roadway were tall two-storied whitewashed buildings. The Brisians themselves were a tall people, often towering over everyone else around them, and the buildings reflected this height in the size of their doorways and windows.

Ling had always heard that the Brisians were friendly, open, and inviting. Certainly Treantos had been that first day she’d seen him, laughing with the dancing girl as he bought graspers from her. Today, the doors and windows they passed were closed and heavily curtained.

Dread had settled over her from the moment she’d realized the town was burning, but that dread grew with each abandoned block they passed. The sharp tang of smoke and burned flesh was in the air even here, but otherwise the town was eerily quiet. No birds sang, no insects droned, and the houses and businesses were closed up tight as if for the night. Ling wondered what she would find were she to peak into a window. Would evidence of the lives lived within still be there—dishes stacked neatly by the sink, clothing folded neatly at the foot of a bed? Or would she find them emptied of all but those items too heavy to be easily moved by

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