(no subject)
The hills that nestled Wittenberg had kept them from seeing the smoke, the dead air hiding away the smell of ash and blood and seared flesh until they cleared the wilds and stumbled nearly into the middle of hell. Their escort stopped, horses milling in a sudden panic as their riders looked into the devastation with wide eyes. O God.
“Sir.” The captain addressed Viola with a voice tight with urgency. “We ought leave yet we even arrive.”
“What?” she asked, turning to look at him before spinning back around to stare out at the burned city. There were still some fires raging somewhere, tell tale smoke floating off into the heavy hung clouds. Buildings were blackened, crushed, walls and doors missing, the occupants strewn off into the street, everything covered in blood. O, God. The captain shook his head, letting out a startled noise as she began to gallop forward despite him. Horatio was beside her immediately, and then came the rest of their party.
“Twas the Goths. There be naught here for the interest of his grace. Let us turn round,” the captain tried again.
“Captain, we were to deliver word to whoever rules Wittenberg.” Viola said slowly, horse slowing to pick its way into the rubble and filth. “The Goths are gone, and I wilt do as I have promised the king.”
“Thou wouldst deliver it to a dead man,” snapped back the commander. They were interrupted by a wail from down the carnage strewn way, and Viola pulled hard at the reins as she gestured in the direction.
“It seems not, Captain.” Turning, she frowned at them all. “We will make camp as ordered and find any of the town who yet live. I will write to the king and tell him of these events so he may yet send more aid, Horatio-” but when she turned he was gone, road empty of all but the dead and destroyed property. “Horatio?”
“Sir?” the captain asked, impatiently. He did think her mad, most like, but should any remain twould be most devilish indeed to leave for slow death. Hoping her friend would be aright, she shook her head and nodded at him. “Make camp. Send the men out, find who dost cry so, and we will send to my lord.”
They stared at her. “I prithee delay not,” she finally snapped, wheeling her horse around back around to the pack mule. “Where then is my tent?”
It was nearing twilight when she was finally free to slip away, to let the soldiers take care of themselves as they ought be able. She was no military commander, no captain, only her lord’s humble servant, but in the face of such foul and meaningless destruction the men had been more than willing to take her orders. They had set up a small camp outside the city, tents ringing a tight circle round a fire, with a knot of tattered, terrified women between, clinging to each other despite words of reassurance from Viola.
To the people of Wittenberg the name Fortinbras meant naught, no more than the name Tamora, and any fool could see the hurt she spread across the land. And so Viola had tried as best she was able and slipped off, riding her horse slowly through the ruined landscape to find her friend.
Was the horse she did find first, tied nervously to a post, and as she slid down and tied hers next to it she did spot him, kneeling in a particularly ruined heap of rubble. “Horatio? Art thou wounded?”
He did not look up, did not stir, and she jogged over quickly, stepping over bits of blackened timber and rectangular charcoal. “Horatio?”
His voice was horse, the tone flat, murmuring over again to himself. Hands pressed together, eyes closed, he prayed quietly as she bent over him. “We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.”
“Alas, Horatio, hast thou been at this all day? Horatio, speak to me, I charge thee.” She grabbed at his arm, tugging gently, and suddenly he ripped himself away from her to go tumbling backwards into the rubble. “Horatio?”
“This was the library.” He stared at her wide eyed, as if he was surprised that anyone could live in such a place, and shook his head. “Here was the University and here was the library, but they have burned it, tis nothing now, the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away. I did study much theology here, twas helpful for the understanding of philosophy.”
“I… ” She reached out to him. “Horatio, come back to the camp with me, I prithee.”
He continued to stare, not moving, and she bent and took his hands in her and pulled him up, pulling him away gently. He followed, twisting his head back to stare again at the destroyed building, letting her lead him as if twere a small child. “I did spend much time in the library.”
“Soft, soft,” she soothed, “have care of thy feet, thou wilt hurt thyself.”
“Twas always cold in the winter months, but my lord did bring in hot wine under his coat and we sat out of sight from the librarian. Wine is more gentle to books than fire.”
“My lord Fortinbras?” she asked, puzzled for a moment, and he turned back to her and looked slightly more well as she did lead him back to their horses.
“Nay, my lord prince, my--” Horatio suddenly jerked, pulling out of her hands, staring off at something across the way. “Hamlet!”
“Horatio?” She could not see what had upset him again, twas only the sight as same as the rest of the city, corpses and fire and ruin. He was staring, though, hands clenching and unclenching and shaking his head.
“Nay nay come not I pray thee--”
Viola glanced back and forth, and then reached forward, slowly, to place her hand on his. He did not move for a moment, instead making a soft, crushed noise as if he were some animal, small and young, being killed. Closing her fingers around his, she pulled him again, getting him to their horses though he did stare off and shake a bit. “Canst thou ride, Horatio? I would take thee back to camp.”
Horatio glanced at her, sideways, back to the alley, and then back at her. She smiled sadly, gesturing at their animals, and tilted her head in a silent question as his focused properly on her face. “Canst thou ride on thine own or shall I walk with thee?”
As he threw himself onto her suddenly, arms around her shoulders while he wailed into her collar, Viola resigned herself to the latter, if they would leave a all.