When last we left off, the boys finally completed their first trial. They learned the Priests care little for their well-being, and all that matters is what they’re able to offer. Victory is everything and defeat means death. The first trial was both physical and psychological, but what of their pasts? What of the lives they were forced away from? They have the black now, are they Priests themselves? What does that even mean? Let’s see!
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Part 4: Bren
Fate is not real. Gilain believed that above everything. He said that we controlled the wheel with the actions we took. Destiny was little more than the repercussions of our decisions.
I wonder if that’s still what he thought while walking away from town with the Priests. He walked between the two Priests that were leading the way and the three other boys trailing a bit behind.
We often spoke on the matter of fate and destiny under the stars, in the summer when the blowing breeze would shake the crops to life. The sound of the air passing through them sometimes made a sound like they were calling out in fear.
Maybe they were crying. The fate of a crop is to be cut down as a resource. Crops weren’t all that different from rats then.
When I was with Gilain nothing else mattered. I loved my mother. I loved his. But he was what came to mind when I thought of family.
Staring at him on his knees from that open field brought about unbearable sadness. Could I run in and knock the Priest over, I thought to myself and shook my head. That would have brought on terrible repercussions for the both of us.
If fate wasn’t real, and actions were all that mattered, then maybe we were just slaves afterall. Slaves to our own weakness. Slaves to power and the feet on our necks. Slaves don’t usually get happy endings.
I wanted to give him hope. If just for him to live on, I wanted to be the reason. I didn’t want to be a slave and I didn’t want him to be one either.
So, I took the last of the blueberries from my cupboard, smashed them into my dress, and ran as fast as I could to catch up to them. I knew he would remember. It always made him laugh– how stupid we thought my mother was for caring so much about a dress.
After he finally noticed me, he looked to the sky and yelled. I couldn’t make out what he said. I wanted to believe it was, “Bren, wait for me,” or “I’m coming back for you.” I knew it wasn’t, but a girl has to have her hopes. Without them, choices are just motions. Hope is what gives the wheel life.
They walked on a bit longer. I did my best to stay out of sight. There were plenty of ruins and dead things to conceal myself within.
When they finally stopped, I hid behind an old sign. It was made of rusted metal and dug into the ground kind of leaning as if the winds of time were driving it closer to its final resting place one winter at a time. I couldn’t read what it said and I didn’t care. That writing hadn’t mattered to anyone for multiple lifetimes and the world it was a part of didn’t exist anymore.
The Priests hadn’t noticed me and that’s what mattered. I wondered what that meant for their great intuition and technology if they couldn’t even notice one small girl trailing them. I guess it wasn’t their technology though. They just inherited it like an old jacket. Sometimes old jackets don’t fit right.
My stomach rumbled and I realized I hadn’t really planned for an expedition to rescue Gilain. All I could think about was finding a way to save him. I realized in my haste I wasn’t going to have the strength to do so when the opportunity presented itself.
I didn’t know how to make a fire either. That was probably a stroke of luck. A little girl would go unnoticed. Black smoke, probably not.
There was a broken down vehicle just off of the road. The Priests had ignored it as they walked by. They probably saw little value in a relic that had been searched for worth a dozen times over.
One of the boys with Gilain, the cackling one, had peeked through one of its broken windows and instantly received a scolding to keep walking by the older Priest. I was close enough I heard his raspy voice say, “If you don’t want to end up like that piece of junk, you better keep moving.”
The hood was propped open. All that remained inside was rust– and what looked like an old animal’s home from years ago. Our ancestors used them to travel long distances. It was a great irony that it would fade into eternity never to move again.
I couldn’t read, but the numbers protruding from the shell were one, nine, nine, seven. I assumed that was the year it had been made. I didn’t know what year it was, but I was certain one, nine, nine, seven would have been heaven compared to my current predicament.
“Hello,” a soft, male voice said from a few yards behind me. I hadn’t noticed anyone else. I thought I was being cautious.
I was too instilled in the vehicle in front of me and wasn’t paying enough attention. The only vehicles we’d ever seen were the stupid reclaimers and the air ships that brought supplies. Curiosity was my greatest vice.
I jumped up and my head hit the hood. “Stay there!” I yelled out.
“You’ll want to be quiet,” he replied, moving closer. He was wearing brightly colored robes that hung to the ground. His pants were red leather and tucked into his brown boots that were fastened with silver buckles. A gold pendant in the shape of a bird hung from his neck.
The boy couldn’t be much older than myself or Gilain. He was groomed as well as he was dressed. His hand fidgeted, constantly tugging at the few longer strands of hair hanging down as bangs into his eyes.
“You’re going to kill me either way,” my mind went to the darkest place. No one dressed like him cared about the life of a little rat girl.
He stepped closer again. His other hand was rubbing the hilt of the dagger fastened to his belt. “Well, I don’t intend to, but those men probably would.”
“Who are–” I started to say as he moved closer still, but the words halted as I watched him pass by me and slide his hand along the metal carcass of the long dead vehicle in front of us.
“Nineteen ninety-seven Ford Explorer,” he said, completely ignoring me. “I love these old SUV’s. I’m a bit of a car guy, and this one’s an antique. Nothing we have runs like these old gas monsters did. Our ancestors were brilliant.”
“What are you talking about,” I quickly blurted out, still shaking.
“My name is Crommy, but you can call me Crom,” he turned and held out his hand before pulling it back as if conditioning took over like he’d forgotten something important. “Sorry. I apologize, lady. I am Lord Crommy Collinsworth of Tollton, fourth in the line of succession to the grand throne of Eulanta, capital city of the Unified Kingdom of America.”
I stared at him for a moment before dropping to my knees. I wasn’t sure if it was fatigue or education kicking in. Ms. Weise told us of the monarchy. She showed us pictures of the king and his three queens. She didn’t have any of his children.
“Stand up, lady,” he moved quickly to help me to my feet. “I’m not one of the First Three. I don’t matter like that. There are dozens of us lower nobles, and dozens more bastard nobles. Unless you’re First Three, neither king, nor Priest, nor commoner, nor either of the gods care you exist.”
“Why are you–” I again started to speak only to be interrupted.
“Father thinks we should all go on one of these recruitment trips when we are old enough,” he began to explain while forcefully lifting me to my feet by grabbing hold of my elbow. “Most of the bastards end up as Priest commanders. I’ll be one of the ones commanding those bastards.”
I wasn’t really following what he was saying. My stomach was growling louder. Rats didn’t eat much, so when we didn’t eat at all it became very noticeable.
The boy noble reached into a pocket and pulled out something wrapped in a cloth. I pulled back at first until he unwrapped it and revealed it to be a stick of jerky. Quickly I accepted the offer and took a large bite.
“You can come with us,” he said. “I’m guessing you scanned red, but that’s ok. They can’t tell me no, unless I’m in danger. You aren’t dangerous, are you, girl?”
“Bren,” I answered and he smiled.
“I’m assuming you know one of these kids,” he said calmly. He was well mannered and he was smart. I didn’t dare lie. Not because he was a noble and I was rat, but rather because I had been raised to return kindness with kindness.
“The small one,” I answered, “he’s my–”
Before I could finish the statement, yelling interrupted it. The boys were fighting another group. It wasn’t really a fight, over almost as quickly as the yelling began. Gilain was kneeling on the road with a smile on his face. The cackling boy was just off the road swinging wildly at motionless bodies.
“Well,” Crommy sighed, “looks like we have the group.” He looked at me and held out his hand again, “You coming?”
I was afraid. That smile from Gilain, I’d seen it a few times. Every time he was challenged, really challenged, his eyes changed and that smile appeared.
I also had never seen a dead body. A few dead animals, but not a human. Especially not one killed by another human.
“Don’t worry,” Crommy took my hand, which was still hanging at my side, “he’s one of the chosen. They all seem to be.”
I didn’t understand. Was he referring to Gilain? Yesterday we were having crackers in his room. His mother was complaining about his father and how much time he was spending with the “damned fools” at the assembly building in town.
I asked, “What do you mean?”
“You’ll see,” Crommy answered. He was still smiling. It was welcoming. It beckoned me to accept his hand and join the group.
We both moved to the road from behind the broken down vehicle. Crommy tapped it a few times with his hand and made the sign of the cross over his chest. “For luck,” he told me.
A flock of birds landed on its hood as we moved far enough away. He yelled out “Hey, wait up,” and waved his hand in the air. I did my best to avoid looking at the blood on the side of the road. Closing my eyes, I let Crommy lead us forward.
“You know the rule,” the younger, lanky Priest yelled back without looking, “keep up or become a rat, m’lord.”
Another Priest, taller and wearing his hood, chuckled, “Looks like our little lord found a pet too.”
All of the Priests turned except for one walking slightly off from the rest of the group. They began laughing. The one that didn’t turn seemed to have his attention on Gilain.
The cackling boy laughed as well. “That asshole has us all beat,” he said in between laughing fits.
“M’lord, I thought you were told to stay close by and out of sight,” the younger, lanky Priest said.
“Well, you found your chosen,” Crommy answered, “we can all walk back together. I’ll be happy to make it back to somewhere with a signal.”
When he mentioned a signal, one of the boys seemed to perk up. He was heavier than the other boys, a rarity for a rat. His face was round and drenched in sweat.
“Why did you keep following us,” Gilain asked dejectedly. He seemed displeased and didn’t show any excitement when Crommy and I came into view.
“Loud Mouth, you’ve been keeping a girlfriend to yourself,” the younger Priest excitedly proclaimed. “You’re not a full brother yet, you don’t get to have a girlfriend.”
“She’s my–” he started, but couldn’t finish his statement due to a metal rod being forced into his side.
There was nothing I could do. We were completely at their mercy. It was still a slave’s life for us.
“Rule one, Loud Mouth,” the younger Priest said, “Rule one. You may be a chosen, but you can still join the wasteland.”
After about an hour of quiet walking, the older Priest, the one that seemed to be in charge, stopped moving forward. The others stopped as he did. “We will camp here for the night,” he said, “We should make it to the fort by tomorrow night if we make good time. Get some rest.”
“That doesn’t mean spend an hour talking, Loud Mouth,” the younger Priest teased as he started pulling out a square metal block from his bag.
It was about the size of the metal end of a sledgehammer, but it had two small black buttons on the top. As he pushed one of the buttons it released a loud humming sound that quickly dissipated. He pressed the other button and the bottom slowly turned a shade of red.
“The wasteland gets cold, even this time of year. It’ll keep the area warm tonight,” Crommy explained, “The noise was to ward off animals.”
“It’s called a scrommer, not that it matters to you,” another Priest added. His voice was unpleasant. He didn’t seem to like the interest Crommy had in me.
Before I could sit and relax, the older Priest brought me a brown pair of pants and a brown linen shirt. “If anyone other than Lord Crom sees you wearing blue, your life will be forfeit. Had it not been for the young prince, I’d have done the deed myself. Leave that dress here and don’t speak of it again,” he warned me.
The Priests moved away from us to discuss matters to which we were not privy. I couldn’t hear them. I was curious, but I was already an uninvited rat amongst cats and wasn’t about to give them a reason to devour me.
We all spread out around the scrommer. As the sun faded, it glowed a light red hue onto the ground around it. The barren fields around us didn’t make a noise. Neither did we, except the larger boy– he snored like a barn animal.
The cackling boy tossed small rocks at him. “Shut the hell up, Sweaty,” he angrily whispered so the Priests didn’t hear. “I don’t care if Loud Mouth renamed you Dozer or not, if you keep me up, I’m going to shove a handful of these down your throat.”
Eventually the Priests joined us. The Priest that had been walking alone sat off to our side, about ten yards away. His back never touched the ground. He stared at the horizon and didn’t speak a word all night.
Gilain didn’t look at me once. He was unusually quiet. I wanted to know what he was thinking. I wanted him to know we would be fine, but I was too busy trying to reassure myself of that to be any kind of hope for him as well.
As the moon rose and the stars crawled across the sky, I cursed fate and the wheel alike.
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