Tommy waited in the barroom of the Pretty Beak tavern with Tara Lastname. Tara brought food for the three of them out of her stores, but Tommy only nibbled at her share, unable to concentrate long on anything in front of her.

“Who would do it?” Tara Lastname asked not for the first time. Tommy did not answer. She knew that it was not time to think on revenge. She would have plenty of time to consider the questions once she had her Littlelings back—the remaining Littlelings that had survived the slaughter, she reminded herself. Her right hand squeezed the hilt of her long knife. She no longer felt much in her hand. Her knuckles were white and she did not think she could loosen her grip even if she had wanted to.

Tommy went through the list of people who owed her favors in the Builders District. She kept her plans simple. She figured that at least fifty of the Littlelings would make it through the slaughter at the barn. She replayed what she knew from her own escape. Near the east entrance of the barn she escaped through, she remembered seeing at least twenty archers. It was likely that an equal number of archers were on the other side of the barn. To properly secure the field that led to Varis, she thought it would take another twenty to thirty guardsmen. There should have been more than just the handful of guardsmen in each of the other directions, in case any of the Littlelings had thoughts of escape away from Varis to hide out as Tommy ended up doing, but since she ran into only one guardsman, it was unlikely there were more than a handful in either direction. That meant that there were about 80 governors’ guardsmen in the surrounding area. Even if she assumed that some of the younger Littlelings had panicked when the arrows started flying—something that, besides the twenty or so Littlelings she had seen killed around the barn seemed unlikely since they had survived so long on the street and were used to killings and dying—many must have gotten through the initial barrage and made it to the surrounding fields. While she knew that most would head through the fields as she had originally planned, even if they did, they should have been able to swarm the governors’ guardsmen. They would have worked as they had been trained, as a group, and given that and the nighttime advantage that usually went to the shorter statured fighters, she figured that more than half should have gotten through the fields, either through fighting or stealth, and that if they did, they would have made their way to Varis and eventually remembered to meet at the Pretty Beak tavern, the only place in Varis that had always provided safety for the Littlelings.

If fifty Littlelings showed up, she would find a place for them to live in Varis. It was too dangerous now to find shelter in the outskirts, and with their reduced numbers—Tommy was a realist, and while it pained her to think of it, she knew from seeing the deaths in the barn, that many of the Littlelings probably would not make it to the tavern—she had no need for as large a space as she had found in the barn. The Pretty Beak tavern was too small for her needs, and besides, she would never impose any more on Tara Lastname after all she had done to help her and the Littlelings in the past.

The back door creaked open and Tommy stood ready to greet the first Littlelings to arrive at the tavern, and to discuss her plans with them and get their thoughts. When she saw it was Neal, she sat back down in disgust. Neal was breathing hard as if he had ran from whatever Samhain activities he had been enjoying in the square while the barn had been burning.

“They started,” he said to his grandmother. “The guardsmen are out in force and the other children. . . . There was nothing I could do. I managed to get Shel home before it started.”

“What do you know?” Tommy asked, standing up and moving toward Neal. If he knew something about the Littlelings, then she would beat it out of him if necessary, not even Tara Lastname would stop her. Neal raised his hand in greetings when he saw Tommy glooming toward him. This was not the response she had expected. Normally, when Tommy approached a kid in the street, the kid either cowered or ran. Few except Neal’s friend Shel had thought to stand up to her or the Littlelings, and the few who did she or the Littlelings made quick work of. Did perhaps Shel put a backbone in his friend? It did not matter. If he knew something that would explain what happened at the barn, then she must know what he knew. “You know something of what happened at the barn?”

“The barn?” Neal asked seemingly confused. She had been wrong. He did not know anything. Tommy wondered if there was something else going on this night, something she could connect to what happened at the barn and perhaps explain the governors involvement. It seemed unlikely. The barn would have been a huge operation for the governors’ guardsmen. Whatever Neal was talking about would not be relevant to her or the Littlelings.

Tommy sat back down and let Tara explain. Tommy held the mug of ale Tara had brought her between her hands and swirled the liquid in large circles as she listened to Tara retell what happened at the barn.

Neal looked thoughtful when she finished. “I didn’t think of it, but it makes sense. Most of the Littlelings were children from Varis, and that was the governors’ goals. Petra Lastname must have arranged it at the governors’ conclave. He looked to Tommy. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I didn’t think of it. I should have thought of it and warned you.”

“What are you talking about?” Tommy demanded. She had heard enough of this. Who was Neal and what did he know and when did he know it. “You knew what was going to happen in the barn? You know who is behind it?”

Before Neal has a chance to respond, they heard the first screams outside. Tommy ran to the door and when she opened it, she saw a guardsman sweeping a halberd toward two children. One of them ducked under the swing, but the other was not as lucky and the halberd hit her in the midsection, raising her off the ground before crumbling back down. Tommy did not recognize the children as Littlelings. The first child watched in horror and began running. The darkness kept Tommy from seeing the guardsman’s face, but she recognized the governors’ guardsmen uniform. The guardsman started running after the first child, and Tommy closed the door.

“What is going on out there?” she asked.

“The governors are wiping out the children,” Neal responded. He had buried his head in his arms along the table. “They’re looking for a child, and they’re killing every child of a certain age, which is probably why they let you live.”

“Nobody let me live,” Tommy said. “I survived, as the Littlelings will survive. We are a lot tougher than the likes of you family children running about town.”

They sat vigil the night, listening to the screams of children. Toward the morning, the anguish of mothers replaced the screams of the children as the adults began to walk the streets and see the carnage. None of the Littlelings had made it to the Pretty Beak tavern that day. And even after four days, Tommy remained alone with Neal and Tara Lastname.

On the fourth day, Tommy made her decision and went across the garden to Shel’s house. She knocked on the door.

“Go away,” Audrel answered. Her voice sounded deeper and gruffer. Samuel had visited the tavern and borrowed some of Tara Lastname’s stores over the last few days. Like Neal, Shel had not left his house for fear that the guardsmen were still hunting for the remaining children. While there had been some uprising by the parents of Varis, it had been quelled by the governors’ guardsmen who still patrolled the streets.

“It’s Tommy. I need to speak with you.” She heard a bar being raised from the door, and the door opened a crack. Tommy peered into the room and saw the blade of a large sword held up through the opening.

“Are you alone?” Audrel asked.

When she indicated she was alone, Audrel lowered the sword and grabbed Tommy’s arm and pulled her inside. Once inside, Audrel barred the door closed. Samuel sat on the floor with Shel. They appeared to have been in the middle of a game of stones.

“You wanted to speak?” Audrel asked. She leaned again the large two-handed sword with the symbol of the Church on the bottom of the hilt. She was dressed in a dark robe with pieces of armor sticking out at its openings.

“I want you to train me,” Tommy said. She had given this much thought, and she knew that while a good street fighter, she was not good enough to fight the governors’ guardsmen on her own. She needed martial training, and after the beating Audrel gave her, she knew who she wanted it from.

“What’s this?” Audrel asked.

“She thinks you’ll train her with that big sword you carry,” Shel said and laughed. “You don’t understand, Tommy. Audrel doesn’t teach anyone how to fight, not even her own sword. Did you know the governors’ guardsmen are killing all children of our age on sight? You’d think this would convince Audrel that training in the martial disciplines would be a good thing, but not even the threat of her own son’s death will convince her otherwise. She teaches me to read word, but refuses to teach me to protect myself.”

“Do you think learning how to use this sword will protect you from the governors and the ones pulling their strings? I’ve taught you better than that, Shel.”

“But you will teach me, Audrel?”

“Why aren’t you in the barn with the Littlelings?” Audrel asked.

“They were slaughtered on Samhain along with the rest of the children.”

“Tonight, I’m taking Neal and Shel out of Varis, away from the governors’ guardsmen and the Empress’s watchful eyes. I will only teach you the martial disciplines if you join us. We are leaving Varis.” Audrel looked tired to Tommy. She was unsure how she would get her out of town in her condition.

Tommy looked to Audrel and then to Shel before nodding her head in agreement.

“If I help you leave Varis, then I want you promise to watch over Shel,” Audrel said. “That’s the condition for the training.”

“If you teach me to fight like you do, I will watch over whomever you want—that is, until it’s time for me to return to Varis. I have much in the way of unfinished business here.”

“Yes, I imagine you do,” Audrel said. “Be ready an hour after dark, and tell Neal of our plans. He will join us.”

Audrel returned to the Pretty Beak tavern and told Tommy and Tara Lastname about her conversation with Audrel. They both seemed to have known this was coming, and Neal returned to the barroom with a packed sack. Tara Lastname gave them a large backpack of travel food.

After dark, Audrel led Shel and Samuel into the tavern. Audrel wore the large sword strapped across her back. With the robe on, she looked larger than ever, as if there were two of her. Shel was dressed in heavy wools, and Samuel wore well-worn travel clothing. We’ll make for the walls. They exchanged their good byes with Tara Lastname, Tommy thanking her for all that she had done to help.

Audrel led the way out of the tavern.

“We’ve come for the boy,” a woman said outside the tavern. Tommy pushed her way past Shel and Samuel and saw that a priest stood in front of Audrel. She held a large staff with the triangle symbol at its top.

“He’s not going with you,” Audrel said, drawing her sword.

“You were banished from the church, Name for the Church Protectors. Haven’t you brought enough trouble on the Church with your loose ways? Now stand aside and give us the boy before the governors’ guardsmen find us all outside.”

Audrel stood in front with the sword held in front of her. “He is not going with you.”

“Oh, I think he is,” the priest said. She looked to Shel and began chanting softly. Shel’s eyes closed slowly and he began to walk toward the priest.

“Get back, Shel,” Audrel screamed, pushing Shel backwards. But Shel kept walking toward the priest. He looked like he was sleepwalking. Tommy grabbed Shel’s shirt to pull him back, but she felt the flash of a burning sensation on her hand and pulled it away. When she tried to get close to him again, she felt an almost force between her hand and his body.

“He is property of the Church, NOTCP. He will be brought to the Church and protected there so he does not hurt himself. You know this is for the best.”

Audrel did not answer. Faster than she could watch, Audrel took two steps toward the priest and ran her sword through her black robe. The priest looked astonished first at Audrel and then down on the sword. “How could you do this,” the priest asked, her words still strong even as a wetness spread around where the sword had entered her stomach. “You were one of us.”

When Audrel pulled her sword free of the priest’s stomach, the priest felt to the floor. The priest began to chant weakly, and Audrel watched her. “I was never one of you,” Audrel said. “I was his, not yours.”

The priest’s chanting grew in volume and then stopped. A soldier came running from the direction of the stables of the tavern. He was dressed in white armor with the Church’s symbol emblazoned on his chest. In his hand, he held a sword very similar to the one Audrel held. Shel stood near Audrel shaking his head as if to clear it.

The soldier did not stop when he got to the priest’s body. He raised the sword over his head and swung it at Audrel. Audrel held up her sword with both hands and blocked the blow. The swords rang as they clashed. The soldier kept the pressure on the sword, pushing Audrel’s own sword down toward her face.

“Get them away from here, Samuel,” Audrel said through gritted teeth. Samuel picked up the sack he had been carrying and grabbed Shel’s hand, leading him away from the alley. Audrel turned and shuffled to her left, putting her body between Samuel and the soldier. Her arms were shaking from the pressure of the sword, but Tommy noticed that the soldier’s arms were shaking as well. “Remember your promise,” Audrel said, this time glancing for an instant back toward Tommy.

Tommy grabbed Shel and pulled him toward Samuel. Neal followed closely behind. Shel followed blindly, not even realizing what was happening. Before they made it to the front of the tavern, Shel pulled free of Tommy’s hold and started back toward Audrel.

The swords were ringing as they clashed again and again. Neither Audrel nor the soldier said anything, but both grunted as they fought. Before Shel could take a second step, the soldier ran his sword down Audrel’s sword and managed to cut her across her chest. At first, the wound did not look back to Tommy, but blood poured out of it and down over her shirt. It was deeper than it had looked.

Tommy managed to grab Shel and pull him away from the fight. While Audrel still fought, her strength and speed seemed to leak out of her. When Tommy made it back to Samuel, Shel was following blindly again, his head turned to watch the fight unfold behind them. Tommy knew that it was only a matter of time before the soldier killed Audrel. She could not stand up to his strength, especially after the wound, which might have been fatal in itself.

Samuel led them along the wall of the Builders District and to the side gate. They avoided the governors’ guardsmen, who patrolled the streets in groups of twenty. After the slaughter, the townspeople had started killing smaller groups of the governors’ guardsmen at any opportunity. It was easier to avoid the large groups, and Samuel them to the neighboring area, where a small area had been cleared underneath the wall. The four of them bellied their way through the hole to the outside, before making for the westering road that led away from Varis.

Word count: 2,658

Official final word count: 58,470

Feeling: It’s over. Sorry for the lackluster ending and the incredible number of loose ends. I did want the last fight to mean something and tie some of those ends up, but I’ve been thinking about the story too much lately, and it needs too much work to close it properly. When I started writing, I didn’t realize it would all take place in Varis. It makes more sense to me now, and I need to create much more about the town and the reasoning behind the slaughter (if it still happens, that is). I don’t think this part (along with the majority of the writing) will survive in the rewrite (if I rewrite), and with these thoughts, I finished most unimpressively as I barely mustered any will to write the ending. Anyway, I got it done and that’s that. As to quality—well, I’ll write down thoughts later about that. The one truth we all share: there is no such thing as quality in November.