1629, Fire Season, Stasis Week, Freezeday
Context
Mellia has heard of the attack on Wilmskirk, and is arriving there. Her husband Venlar hurried, but she came more slowly as befits her late pregnancy. Session 5.W-13
Events
Mellia’s two older children are helping to guide the cart that carried her here from Dangerford, after the village of Blue Tree insisted on giving her a chair-ride into the little town, so she did not have to walk for a day. There was eye-rolling from the Ernaldan Temple, and many many volunteers from the Temple of Orlanth.
The afternoon is drawing out as Infara and Nyteem finally give up the reins to the carter, and Wilmskirk comes into sight. The wooden palisade has a hole clear through it on the North side, visible from the road. A guard is standing in the gap.
Mellia peers at the guard, devoutly hoping he isn’t a pirate. She mutters to Nyteem and Infara, “Leave this to me.”
There are guards at the gate too, but of course this is not the Lunar army. Everyone wears their own armour, often inherited. At least nobody said on the road that the pirates were still here. Some said that Kallyr hade flown in to deal with the problem and disappeared. Others said that Tennebris had marched from Boldhome faster than expected, and there had been a great slaughter.
So far, there is no evidence of a great slaughter.
Mellia sends up a silent prayer to Chalana Arroy and approaches the guard at the hole in the wall. “Good afternoon! I am Mellia Saiciae Sambari Lightbringer and am pleased to meet you. I hope you are in good health.”
He brightens on seeing her. “Good day, good lady. I am Janarm, poet of some reknown.” He waits to hear if the name is known. It is not familiar.
“Alas, I am not familiar with your work, Janarm. I would like to hear some of it. Are the pirates gone? Was there a great slaughter?”
“They fled, disordered and dismayed, seared by the light of Polaris. Mighty Kallyr struck down their leader fair, Gunda of great guilt.” Janarm reports as if he has been thinking up verses on the matter. “The survivors floated in great coffins down to the sea, lamenting their losses and bewailing the rains of fiery arrows.”
Mellia digests this for a second. “I am not fond of pirates. I am glad that they are gone. How are the good people of Wilmskirk? Am I too late to aid?”
“The fighting was light, for the foe sought loot,” Janarm replies. “Thus many surrendered. A few were taken, and recovered. King Farinst fought the foe, and the Cold Lance Serala, his mistress, beside him stood.”
“Serala? Is she well? I know her. Was my cousin Varanis here?”
“She was taken and tormented, but freed by the spear of Kallyr,” Janarm replies. “The Thane Varaena – Varanis in the South – came from Whitewall to fight, and witnessed the freeing of us all, hunting many pirates as if they were goats or dogs, not wolves.”
Mellia sighs. “Thank the gods that they survived. Do you know if they are still here, Janarm?”
“Only the gods could tell you. I have kept this breach the whole day.” He looks sad about that.
“Yes, High Healer. I just want to send a message to my father-in-law.”
“I have a feeling that I have work to do. Will I still be able to find the shrine of the White Lady?”
“It was untouched. High Healers attend.” Janarm gestures back to the gate. “The road will take you.”
Mellia nods. “I had best get going. Thank you very much, Janarm. I look forward to hearing your epic on the invasion.”
He bows his head, and looks off into the distance. Even within a moment his lips are moving slightly, as he composes something within.
Mellia collects her people and the cart, then goes to the gate and tries to enter the city.
The gates are open, with one guard on each. Within, the city is a mess. Many buildings have been burned, or partially burned, and a few destroyed. Despite that, it seems busy. People are bustling about, rebuilding and in some cases repainting. Praxian warriors on ostrich-back pick their way among carpenters arguing about the quality of wood. Children watch two bards having some kind of whistling competition, and the little faces show a mix of delight and harsh musical judgement. Wilmskirk.
Mellia chuckles at the sight of the children judging the whistling contest. Then she says very quietly, “This is much better than I feared. Nyteem, please be on your guard anyway.”
Nyteem nods, and stands up on the cart to be a better warrior. He keeps away from the ostrich riders, however.
“Healing temple, is it, or did you want the Cinder Fox house first?” asks the carter. He has piles of canvas, ready to make tents and covers against bad weather.
“Healing temple first, then the house of my kin. I should have the decency to check in.”
“I can put you off there, but I need to take this to the palace,” the man points out very reasonably. His name is Megg, but he prefers to be called Carter.
“Of course,” Mellia replies. “Drop us off at the temple and we’ll meet you at the Cinder Fox house eventually. I thank you, Carter for your help and patience. Good luck at the palace.”
“I’ll be off back to Dangerford, so see you when you reach it once more.” Carter Megg shrugs. “It is what it is. I’ve got a few hours for travelling yet, so no soft bed, but a safe one.”
The temple comes into sight shortly afterwards. It looks like people are recovering from a more minor incident than has really been the case; there are few walking wounded now, but there will no doubt be plenty of infections and a few lost limbs.
Mellia seems reassured by the lack of wounded on stretchers. “I was going to offer you the hospitality of Cinder Fox, Carter, but I understand you wanting to get back to Dangerford. Safe travels.”
He helps Infara and Nyteem to take off the luggage, and makes sure they have everything, even the little hand cart. “You be good kids now, and grow up to be charioteers.” Then with a pat for their heads, he gets back up onto the cart. The children look around gravely.
Mellia comments, “Not nearly as bad as I expected. Let’s get this out of sight.” She walks up to the temple entrance and tries to get someone’s attention.
There are plenty of people present, including a weary-looking porter, and a cluster of women in white, waiting for new patients. They seem tired, but like they are finally resting.
Mellia addresses the porter. “I can see you need your rest,” she says. “Can you please show me to a safe place to leave my luggage? We will carry it.”
“I can call someone,” he says. Nyteem pipes up, “We are big.” They are not, but that seems to stop the man from wanting to help. “If you’re staying here, White Lady, then the back rooms are all for your convenience. Any that is open and has nobody in.”
“Thank you,” Mellia says. She looks for a spare room to park her luggage in, then goes in search of the High Healer on duty.
Jaldis. It’s Jaldis. She should be in Whitewall.
She is in the dispensary, examining a couple of fennel bulbs, but hands them over to the man helping her, and gives Mellia a sharp, sudden smile. “My dear. Welcome.”
“Thank you, High Healer. I came as soon as I could, but I am moving like a beached giant fish.”
“Twins, I hear,” comes the reply. “You’re good enough to work, if slowly. You’ve got a few fortnights yet.”
Mellia nods. “That’s why I came here, to help. I am glad that things are not a lot worse. Shall I take over sorting the bulbs?”
“We mostly need help being seen,” Jaldis says. “And as I am due back in Whitewall as soon as may be done, anything that is on the wards would help most. Replace someone who can then go out into the city. The state of the herbarium here is… not our concern.”
Next to her the man who presumably has responsibility for it is melting into a puddle of shame.
“Yes, High Healer. Before I go, have you seen my cousin Varanis?”
“Oh, she has gone back to Whitewall,” says Jaldis with a smile. “She came to… be outnumbered here, but was fortunate enough to find that the Wolf Pirates were in …” She glances aside, and the herbarium manager hurries away. “She arrived just as Kallyr did, after being kind enough to escort me.”
Mellia nods. “That sounds like her. Well, she will have to manage without me. There’s plenty of healing to do here, I’m sure.”
“The usual sequelae.” Jaldis opens a couple of jars, and closes them again. “I really must arrange to visit here from time to time. In the mean time, I suggest you try the young mothers rooms here, or the smaller wounds.”
“Yes, High Healer. I just want to send a message to my father-in-law.”
She gives a chill smile. “Go ahead.”
Mellia nods, thanks Jaldis and goes to the wards. On the way, she will try to send that message with a page.
Infara offers her brother’s services. “He is big and smart.”
“I want my sister with me,” Nyteem says bravely.
“You two be careful,” Mellia says. “Just tell your grandfather or grandmother that I and my luggage are here.”
There is a lot of nodding. “We will not speak to any slavers.” Infara takes her brother’s hand, and off they go.
