The night of Samhain was a cause for celebration among the Littlelings. They decorated the barn with autumn leaves, and spent the coins they saved throughout the year on the ingredients to brew the Rotting Tankards. Three large vats cooked at the far edges of the barn. The cooking started early in the morning and took the entire day. By the evening, the Littlelings poured casks of whiskey into the brew before distributing to the lines of Littlelings that formed around each of the vats.

Tommy enjoyed the Samhain celebration. The Littlelings used to attend the celebrations held in Varis, but five years ago, after fighting broke out and the governs guardsmen stamped down hard on the orphans and the Littlelings in particular, Tommy decided to have the celebration only among family, a time to celebrate the good fortunes of the season. Thanks to the troubles the Littlelings were having in Varis because of Tommy’s fight with Audrel, the celebration was more subdued than usual. Tommy was more positive after her fight with Audrel, trying to bring back the cheer of the other Littlelings. At first, Tommy was afraid that the Littlelings would think she was trying to compensate for her loss, that she was changing into a different person, a weaker person. But soon they realized that she was doing it for them, and they accepted it as a kindness.

Tommy’s strength was almost recovered, and while her nose would never be straight, if anything, she felt it made her look fiercer. Most of her swelling had gone down over the past few weeks, and except for a few cracked ribs, she was almost feeling herself again. She used the excuse of Samhain to enjoy the Littlelings company and to thank those who helped her recover, and those who helped support the Littlelings while she was not able to visit Varis.

By nightfall, the party in the barn was in full swing. The Littlelings had lit bonfires outside of the barn, and the Littlelings danced between the fires to the beat laid down by the beating of anything the Littlelings could put their hands on that looked like a drum. Tommy watched the dancers off to the corner, nursing her tankard. She had danced to start them off, but her ribs had started hurting, and she decided to take a break. The festivities would go on through the night and probably would not end until late the next morning. With the alcohol in the brews, most of the Littlelings were already starting to stagger. Some of the smaller ones looked ready to fall asleep, although they tried to stay awake with the bigger kids, afraid if they knocked off they would be thought less of. A Littleling’s reputation was everything they had, and they did whatever was necessary to keep it and improve it. Tommy encouraged this behavior, it was what kept the Littlelings together and working hard to support one another. It was what Tommy figured a family was like.

Many of the Littlelings broke into song, capturing the rhythm of the drums and chanting tales of Varis that they had heard or composed over the years. Tommy smiled at their indulgences, feeling closer to them as they chanted about their survival, tales of the Littlelings who died in fights, and tales of survival. It was at times like this that Tommy felt closer to the Littlelings. They were the family she had never known, and she knew that she would do anything to protect them.

Tommy finished her third mug of the Rotting Tankard and began feeling its effects. Tommy was not much of a drinker, and although she was large, the alcohol seeped into her body fast and she felt a slight spin on the world. Some of the Littlelings had passed out from the drink, and others wobbled a bit as they walked or danced through the barn. Already, a number of the Littlelings had sought out places along the top of the barn to lie down. Tommy was sure if she walked along the hay elevator, she would see many of her Littlelings fast asleep, even with the racket being made a few feet beneath them.

The weather was unseasonably warm, and many of the Littlelings had shed their outerwear when dancing around the fires. It was a shock then when Tommy heard the first screams. At first, she did not know what was happening. She thought the Littlelings were still chanting. It was not until the Littlelings started making for the barn doors that she realized what was happening. The drumming stopped and was replaced by the sound of hundreds of arrows digging into wood and bodies. Many of the Littlelings who had been dancing moments before in the middle of the barn now lay dead, forming a small circle where a parade of children had been dancing moments before. There was the sound of arrows thunking into the roof. When Tommy looked up, she saw small licks of flame butting through the shingles.

“Get away from the doors,” Tommy screamed. Many of the Littlelings were pointing toward the roof and running for the doors. “Don’t go outside!” There was too much noise and commotion for many of the Littlelings to hear. Tommy watched as the Littlelings ran to the door, only to be filled with arrows. Whoever was firing, must have had the doors covered. Tommy grabbed a few of the Littlelings that were near her to calm them down. She moved along the walls and climbed up to the hay elevator.

“The fire won’t burn the barn for a while now,” she said, pointing toward the roofs where the fire few of the shingles had caught fire. She led the Littlelings over to the side of the barn. Chaos had broken out on the floor of the barn, most of the Littlelings had scattered, running outside the barn or dying where the arrows hit them through the doors. Tommy was afraid to look outside, afraid of what she would find. She led the Littlelings along the wall toward the small opening. She crouched down and peeked outside. She was not able to see many feet past where the bonfires were burning. She cursed softly. The Littlelings that were left began climbing up to the hayloft and joining Tommy, waiting to see what she would do. Most of the remaining Littlelings were older, and all were holding their knives.

“Do you know who’s out there?” one of them asked. Tommy shook her head. She needed to think. She assumed they had archers near the doors, and it would only be a matter of time before they came in to finish the job. She put out of her mind who would be doing this. She had made many enemies in Varis, but she could not think of any of them who would have enough men or arrows to do what they have done. It was useless to worry about that now. She needed to get the remaining Littlelings away from the barn and save who she could. She looked down and saw about thirty Littlelings’ bodies scattered along the floor of the barn. She knew there would be more near the entrances. Part of the roof was smoldering, and Tommy worried it would start burning soon. Once the barn started burning, it would not take long before it was impossible for them to remain in the barn.

There were two entrances to the barn, and when she saw that around both entrances were arrows and bodies of Littlelings. They were waiting for them to come up or flee the fire. Fifteen Littlelings had joined her on the hayloft. She hoped more had gotten away when the arrows first started flying.

Tommy was always decisive. She had learned early that to lead the Littlelings, she had to make decisions quickly and follow through. Indecisiveness bred doubt, and the last thing she needed at this moment was doubt.

“We’re going to leave the barn,” she said, lowering her voice so it carried only as far as the huddled Littlelings. The only sounds she heard was the occasional twang of a bow or thump of an arrow, and the burning of the bonfires. Mixed in with that were the cries of wounded Littlelings, but she put those noises out of her mind. There was nothing she could do to help them now. The best she could do was to get the Littlelings around her out of the barn safely, and hope others made it past the archers.

“We’ll leave from the same door and head north into the field they have not harvested yet. That should give us some cover. Don’t stop when we get there. Keep running until you get to the Eastering Road, and then head into Varis. We’ll meet in the morning at the Pretty Beak tavern. Tell any Littleling you find along your way what we’re doing. The important thing is not to stop. Keep running. If someone tries to stop you, swarm them and keep running, don’t waste time finishing them off.”

“Who’s doing this?” one of the Littlelings demanded.

“I don’t know, and we shouldn’t worry about it now,” Tommy said. “The important thing is for as many of as possible to get out as possible. They can’t have too many archers out there. Stay low and move quickly.”

Tommy studied both doors and chose the westward door. One of the Littlelings had managed to partially close one of the barn doors, and the additional cover would give them a chance to run out. She led the Littlelings down the ladder and massed them behind the door.

“I’m going first to draw their fire. Wait one breath and follow me. Don’t stop until you get into Varis. Lose yourself among the children celebrating Samhain.” Tommy took a moment to look into each of the remaining Littlelings’ eyes, touched a shoulder of those she knew. She was trying to pass on courage to them, courage that she did not possess. “Good luck.”

Tommy took a deep breath, thinking it was her last. She felt a slight ache in her ribs and put it aside. She took a step back and then ran through the open door. She ran out of the door and was immediately blinded by the bonfire. She turned left toward the bonfire and headed diagonally to the fields, which were three hundred feet away from the barn. She felt an arrow shaft pass near her, and lowered her head and ran. She heard the Littlelings leave the barn a few seconds after her. She did not look behind her. She heard men yelling in the fields she was heading and jumped over the broken body of a Littleling.

Before she made it to the field, she realized they had surrounded the barn. It was not just archers but soldiers that ringed the barn. This was a planned slaughter, and their plan was for none of the Littlelings to escape. Tommy changed her mind on the plan and ran along the edge of the field toward the north end of the barn. She kneeled down a moment to look behind her to try and signal the Littlelings, but either they had made it to the field and were now working their way toward the road, or they did not, and they were dead from the arrows near the doors.

Tommy stood up and continued to run along the edge of the field. She was tired and felt the three weeks of inactivity and her injuries, but she pushed on. When she made it to far side of the barn at the edge of the field, she turned along the edge of the field. She snuck a look behind her and cursed silently when she saw that she was right. A line of twenty archers stood facing the barn, arrows stuck in the ground in front of them. The archers had been herding the Littlelings toward the fields. Tommy had realized their plan only after she had made it to the field, too late to change the direction of the other Littlelings, which Tommy now knew she had sent to the fields. She knew the Littlelings were resourceful, and even against armed men, she felt they had a chance. These thoughts passed quickly through her mind, and she let them pass. Survival was on her mind, and she knew she was far from out of danger.

She followed the edge of the field away from the Eastering Road. They would expect the Littlelings to head toward Varis, and Tommy decided that the only way she was to survive was to do what they did not expect. Now that she had made her decisions, she felt some of the fatigue leave her legs. She knew the strength was fake, the product of her fear and her anger, but she reveled in it and the speed it lent her. The path that led toward the Peterson farmhouse was deserted. She kept low and tried to stay partly within the field to hide behind the high growing wheat. She stopped and crouched when she heard a noise. It was jingling up ahead. She held her breath to slow her breathing and tried to focus on where she had heard the noise. She unsheathed her two daggers and held them with the points up and hidden behind her arms. She could not risk the metal glowing from the bonfires behind her.

From the direction of the sound, Tommy saw a governors’ guardsman walking toward her. He held his long sword in his hand and used it as machete to cut the wheat in his path. Tommy ducked lower to the ground and turned her body to face him. He wore a thin coat of chainmail and shiny gauntlets. Tommy noted that from the waist down, his only protection was leather pants. Tommy said a small prayer to Antes, the protector of orphans, and lunged at the guardsmen, driving her daggers toward his legs. She moved past his long sword, twisting her body to avoid the blade and dug the daggers into his legs. His scream was short lived, as Tommy crushed his unprotected windpipe with her elbow, falling to the ground with him and driving her arm against his throat. She drove the pulled the daggers free and drove them underneath his chainmail shirt and into his chest. She pulled them out only when she felt the heat of his blood covering her arms.

Tommy checked his belt and found his pouch, cutting it off with her knife before running off along the edge of field. The thought of the governors’ guardsmen participating in this attack made no sense to Tommy. She again squashed the thoughts before they could form. She could not worry about this now, she had to get out of here and to safety. Whatever Littlelings survived would need her, and she needed to meet them at the tavern the next day.

As Tommy ran along the field, she heard a few more guardsmen, but most of them were in the field. When Tommy saw the farmhouse she veered east back toward the road. She found no soldiers and no Littlelings between the farmhouse and the road. When she arrived at the road, she remained in the field, watching the road for as long as she could stand it before heading west down the road. She needed to get away from the field, away from the Peterson farm, and away from Varis until the morning. She would travel the roads only when the traders were back on them. She did not know what she would find in the morning.

Tommy spent the night hiding in a small bluff of trees by the side of the road. She stayed awake the entire night, watching the road and hoping to find a Littleling. Nobody passed along the road that night, and Tommy drifted into a light sleep, where her mind replayed the images of the dead Littlelings sprawled out in the barn, and the slaughtered Littlelings in the field she had led them. At first light, she counted the coins she had taken from the soldier and found the stream that ran near the road. She washed her hands and knives of as much of the blood and drank deeply. Her throat was dry and raw, and her entire body hurt. She put those thoughts aside as quickly as they came, sure in that she had more important worries.

She waited until a few of the traders’ wagons had passed before joining in the rear of caravan. She did not recognize the traders, but they did not seem to mind her company. One of the guards did fall back to walk with her, but he did not say anything, only nodding at her as he did.

When they arrived at the gate, there were ten governors’ guardsmen. A line of wagons waited outside, and the traders Tommy traveled with fell into line.

“What’s going on?” the merchant riding the front wagon asked.

“The guardsmen are searching for orphans. He said something about a riot last night. Hundreds of orphans were killed after they started stampeding during Samhain. Can you believe it? The one night they’re all well-fed, and this is how they repay us.” Tommy heard the trader spit.

Tommy did not recognize any of the guardsmen at the gate and decided to chance going through with the traders. She knew she had stopped looking like a child over a year ago, often mistaken for working woman in the streets. She hid the daggers under her tunic and combed her hair with her fingers. She knew they would not take her for a trader, but she hoped they would not ask too many questions.

It took most of the morning for the traders to get inside of Varis. The wagons were searched, but none of the traders or Tommy were questioned. The line began moving faster toward midday, as the traders’ complained louder about the loss in business and the rotting foodstuffs in their wagons. By the time Tommy’s traders made it to the front of the line, the guardsmen waved them in, seemingly bored of the searches.

The town of Varis was quiet, and large forces of guardsmen walked in groups through the streets. They were armed with halberds, which was a rare sight. Usually, the guardsmen walked the streets only with their long swords buckled on their belts and the cudgels they used to break up fights in the street. Tommy stayed with the traders until they passed through the Builders District. What Tommy did not see where any children on the streets. She was not surprised, usually after Samhain, the children and orphans slept in. A night in the streets partying usually tired out the children.

Tommy made it to the Pretty Beak tavern. The tavern was closed, which was strange seeing as it was the middle of the day, a time when the men who unloaded the wagons usually stopped in the tavern for a drink to waste away the afternoon hours until it was time to reload the wagons in the evening. Tommy knocked on the back door. Nobody answered. She knocked louder. By the third time, she heard the door unlocking from the inside, and found Neal standing in the doorway.

“What happened last night?” Tommy asked, pleading with Neal to see her as a child, not as the bully.

Neal nodded, his face grim and filled with soot. “There was a riot last night when some of your Littlelings came back to town and started spreading stories about a slaughter at the barn. The orphans started setting fire to the stands in the square, and the guardsmen were called in.”

“The Littlelings? Where are they?”

“I don’t know,” Neal said. Tara Lastname came to the backdoor and put her hands on Neal’s shoulders.

“Tommy. I’m glad you’re all right. Please come in.” Tara stepped aside and Tommy walked into the empty tavern. She expected to see other Littlelings in the tavern, but it was empty.

“Are they upstairs?” Tommy asked.

Tara shook her head and put her hands on Tommy’s shoulders. “Nobody came here after last night, Tommy.”

“The guardsmen killed a lot of orphans in the square last night,” Neal said. “They were not putting down a riot. By the time they made it to the square, there was no rioting left.”

“They were murdering the orphans,” Tara finished.

Tara led Tommy to a bench along the wall and sat her down. Neal placed a drink in her hand and she drunk deeply. “They’re coming here,” Tommy said. “I told them to meet me here.”

“We’ll keep a watch for them,” Neal said.

“The barn, was it true what they said about the barn,” Tara said.

“I told them to meet me here,” Tommy repeated. She held the drink between her hands but did not drink. “I said here, I said to meet me here. I told them to go to the Eastering Road, to go to Varis. I didn’t go to the road, I went the other way. They’ll make it here. They’ll come here and then we’ll find out who did this.” Tommy did not finish her thought. She held the mug in her hands and stared at the wooden floor.

Tommy felt Neal and Tara standing near here, but they did not say anything. “I told the Littlelings to come here. I need to find another place to sleep. We won’t be able to go back to the barn. This will take some planning, but we’ll find something. Varis is a big city, and there’s always need for protection. I even have some coins now to help us get started.”

Tara sat next to Tommy on the bench and put her arm around her shoulder. Tommy had gotten used to the contact over the last three weeks, when the Littlelings had nursed her back to health. Before then, she would have drawn a knife on Tara. She allowed her to hold her, though. Her mind was too busy planning how she would care for the Littlelings.

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Words remaining: goal met but not finished (53,477)