Shel stumbled home from the square. Audrel was sitting on her sleeping mat, nursing a bottle of whiskey. She looked up when Shel opened the door, and then took a deep swig from the bottle. She had wasted no time celebrating Samhain. Samuel was unusually absent. He spent most nights, and for that matter most days, in the home, cleaning, cooking, and keeping the room, as he had kept the Church before. The room was hot and stuffy. The stove was burning wood, and the chimney must have started clogging because darkened smoke wafted through the room. In front of Audrel rested a large sword. Shel had seen a sword of that type before. It was much larger than the swords the guardsmen carried. He then remembered: he has seen it with one of the priest’s guards at Peula’s house. He tried to remember when that was, when he had seen a priest a Peula’s house, but his memory was hazy. At the end of the sword he noticed a triangle with stars on each vertex. The sword was impossible to ignore, the size of it alone drew the eye to it upon entering the house. But Audrel seemed oblivious to it, concentrating on her drink.

Shel stood at the door to watch Audrel. Audrel took another drink before looking up at him. “Neal stopped by before you left,” she said, gesturing with the bottle. “He’s a strange boy that Neal is. He stopped by when you were out doing whatever you were doing.” No matter how drunk she became, Audrel’s words never slurred. Her words slowed as she drank more—and they were now coming out at an almost excruciatingly slow pace for Shel, especially since he had so much he wanted to tell her and ask her about his visions that night.

“What did he have to say?” Shel asked. It did not seem the most important question, especially with everything that had happened that evening, but he would never be rude with Audrel. She had taught him about the proper flows of conversation, and when Audrel hinted at the next topic, he dutifully responded with a question. Besides, Shel had learned to take whatever opportunities he could to get answers out of Audrel about whatever she felt like talking about. She was not much with the truth, preferring the vague promises of the disciplines to truths.

“He told me things,” Audrel said. She was not looking at Shel as she spoke, staring instead behind him as if she could conjure up Neal as she remembered. “Things he had no business knowing. He’s a good friend. He cares about you. You should trust him and his visions. He has that gift.”

“Did he tell you what he saw? He hasn’t been very talkative as of late.” The talk of Neal reminded Shel of seeing him speaking to his grandmother after Tommy’s beating. He did not look like he was in conversation with her, but looked like he was looking off somewhere distant, perhaps having another one of his visions. Neal used to talk about his visions and the voices he claimed talked to him. Now that he thought about it, he realized that over the past few months, Neal had not mentioned any of his visions or voices. There were worse things than friends to lose in the world, he knew.

“He told me lots, most of which I already knew but he could not have. I’ve met other people like him before, Shel. You have to be careful. What he sees is not always the true future, and the visions can be self-fulfilling. Madmen have manipulated emperors before with their words, and those emperors had fulfilled the madmen’s visions. I sometimes don’t know if they’re pushing truth or their version of the truth on us. But he is loyal and I think he wants what is best for you and the others.”

“What others?”

Audrel did not answer, instead taking another hit from her bottle.

Shel decided to change topics. There was so much more he wanted to know and tell. He decided on the obvious question first. “That sword, what is it and why do you have it?” Shel looked to the chest and saw the lid was up. He longed to look into the chest, but he remained at the door. Neal had said Audrel would have answers, and he wanted answers about what he saw, about that sword, about Neal. When did Neal come into this? He thought he had other things to worry about other than his friendship with Neal or his visions, but that was what Audrel wanted to talk about.

“The funny thing about Neal is that he told me he was going to give you a real Rotting Tankard brew this evening. I don’t know how he knew, but he knew I had never given you the real thing.”

“He saw the ingredients you bought at the tavern,” Shel said to his mother, hoping to clear up that mystery and move along the conversation.

“I didn’t buy the ingredients at the tavern. Samuel picked them up in the square earlier this week. But no matter. Neal told he would do it, almost daring me to stop him. He wouldn’t tell me what you would see, but, from the look on your face, I take it you did see something, and I take it you did not understand what you saw.”

Audrel stood up and staggered toward Shel, placing her free hand on Shel’s shoulders. “Tell me what you saw.”

Shel told her of the shadowy figures and tried to remember what they had said to him. The memory was hazy now, and the best he could do was describe the feelings and what they looked like, and only part of what they said. Audrel listened, swaying a bit as she stood with her arm on his shoulders. When he was done, Audrel nodded and did not say anything. She staggered back to her sleeping mat and sat down, lifting up the sword and running her fingers along the edge.

“Blades dull if not properly cared for, Shel. This one is no different. Go get me a whet stone from the chest.”

Shel walked slowly over to the chest. He was not sure if he was excited or nervous about looking inside it. He knew it had housed Audrel’s sword, but he wondered what other amazing items were inside it. The room was dark near the chest. It took Shel a few moments to see what was inside. He was a bit disappointed by what he saw. There was a plain looking scabbard for the sword, a large black-bound book, and a few pouches.

“The stone is in the yellow pouch, bring it over.”

Shel heard someone running toward the door. He turned in time to see Samuel run through the door and into the room. “The guardsmen have gone mad. They are slaughtering children outside,” he said.

“What did you say?” Audrel asked. Shel had heard what Samuel said, but he could not believe it. What was Samuel even doing outside, and why would the guardsmen kill children? Unless the children got out of hand after he left. Shel doubted it. They children were dancing and everything looked more than orderly. He had noticed a large number of children leaving when he did, probably because of the late hour and the effects of the brew.

“The guardsmen, they are going through the streets and murdering any children they find about. They’ve gone made, Audrel. You have to do something.”

Audrel went to the door and peeked through it. She was there for a few minutes before she closed the door and barred it from the inside.

“What are you doing?” Samuel asked. “Didn’t you hear what I said? Didn’t you see them outside? They using their halberds to kill any children they come across. Why do you have that big sword if you don’t intend to use it?”

“You never wanted me to use this big sword, and now you want me to fight for other people’s children? You are a strange man, Samuel.” Audrel went to the floor and picked up the sword. “The pouch, Shel. Bring it here.” Shel walked over and handed the velvet pouch to Audrel. She took out a small stone and threw the pouch back to Shel. She sat down on the floor and began running the stone up the side of the blade.

“You’ve picked a strange time to sharpen your sword, Audrel. I thought the Church had taught you something about protecting children.”

Audrel did not stop her steady strokes along the two edges of the sword. Every so often she would stop and look down the length of the blade.

“She’s sharpening the sword so she can go out there and help the orphans,” Shel said. “Aren’t you, Audrel?”

“It’s not just orphans they’re killing, Shel. They’re killing indiscriminately, all the children in the streets.”

“The Church did not teach me to protect the children or the weak, Samuel. You of all people should know that. If anything, the Church would have participated in the slaughter if it was in its interests. I don’t know whose interests the killing is for, but Shel is protected in here, and that is all that is important.

“What about Neal?” Shel asked thinking of his friend. He had left him by the bonfires. Surely he would be in danger if the guards were killing the children. Shel had to tell him, had to go help.

“Sit down,” Audrel said in a firm voice. She continued to run the stone up the edges of the sword. Shel wavered before sitting down. If what Samuel said was true, then he would have little luck finding Neal in the streets. The only possible good he could do was to get himself killed, if the guardsmen were really killing children. Shel did not consider himself a child anymore. He wondered if he would be safe from the guardsmen, many of which were his own age, drafted into the governors’ service.

“The town will not stand for this,” Samuel said. He was pacing near the entrance to the house. “They will tear down the governors for this slaughter. The guardsmen will not stand for it either, at least the guardsmen with children.”

“There were a lot of children heading home when I left the square,” Shel said. “Maybe they knew? Maybe the governors’ guardsmen warned them and they told their children to be home before the slaughter would begin.”

“That seems unlikely, Shel. Think it through. Word would have slipped out. The guardsmen, if they knew the truth, would never have sent their children out in the first place. They would have had to send the newer guardsmen for this, the ones without children. I can’t imagine how they convinced them of the necessity, knowing that the people might rise up and revenge their children.”

“There will be more than children’s blood in the streets come morning,” Samuel said, swearing softly before continuing his pacing. “It makes no sense. The orphans I could understand. They were causing problems with the harvest and trade. But to indiscriminately kill the children.”

“How do you know what was going on outside?” Audrel asked in a quiet voice. “What were you doing out there?”

Samuel looked ashamed for a moment. “I was visiting with Tara Lastname. She figured with Neal out,” Samuel did not finish the sentence.

“Is Neal okay?” Shel asked.

“Yes. Neal is fine. He came back in to the Pretty Beak. It was him that brought the news of what was happening.”

“What was happening now or what would happen?” Audrel asked. “It doesn’t matter. The guardsmen are patrolling the street now, which means the slaughter must have already started.”

“Who could have done this? Why would the governors do this?” Shel had never seen Samuel so agitated. He was usually the calm one in the house. He had never even seen him excited, well, he corrected himself, except for the discussions about the chest. Shel’s eyes went over to the chest again. Whatever power the chest had held in the house was gone now that it was open. He felt disappointed by what the chest contained. Except for the sword, which he realized Audrel had not explained, it did not contain anything mysterious. He was not sure what he had expected, but it was something grander than that. Perhaps a pile of gold or something magical.

“It might have been the empress,” Audrel said.

“What do they say about her?” Samuel asked before answering his own question. “That may she live forever, but when we said that, we didn’t mean that long. Audrel, she doesn’t have that power in Varis. Varis is run by the governors. Her rule does not stretch this far, even if she sends her soldier to pass through every so often.”

“You can’t believe the powers the empress possesses,” Audrel said. They sat in silence except for the sound of the stone grating on Audrel’s sword, and the screams of children from the streets.

Word count: 2,013

Total words: 55,676