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Here and there he found survivors-old women and men, too frail to be useful on farms and in kitchens, and children too young to be anything other than an inconvenience. He sent everyone to visit with the old woman, Vivian, who was already taking care of Houri. In the back of the blacksmith’s house he found a small child hiding in a closet, her cheeks stained with tears. She clung to him as he took her away.
The next house was again empty but Galun suddenly had a wary feeling in his gut. There was one more house before he reached his own, and just beyond his was Houri's. Galun shivered to think of his family; his grandmother sitting terrified in bed, unable to move her withered legs. Houri’s family was no better off; he was almost certain they would have taken Nilcreban, he was strong and would make a good worker. He knew her mother would be taken and sold and used; the thought broke his heart.
Galun took a breath and walked into the house before his. It wasn’t terribly dark, the windows let in some dim light through thin muslin curtains. The living room was empty and as Galun walked inside he heard somebody whimpering. Rushing toward the sound he came to one of the two bedrooms where a youth lay awkwardly on his bed.
The sheets, his clothing and hands were drenched and he was holding a wound on his right side. As Galun came in he jolted up but fell back again groaning loudly. The boy couldn't have been older than thirteen but he had a look of hopelessness, as if he knew nobody would come to help him. Galun rushed to the boy's side and picked him up. Blood was still running from the wound thickly, soaking through Galun's shirt as he ran down the road, bringing the boy in past many of the other survivors.
Vivian clicked her tongue and began working at once, pushing Galun out of the way and shouting for one of the older women to bring her cloth and a bowl of hot water. Galun was pushed from the bedroom where he had set the boy in to the kitchen. Galun looked around in the absolutely quiet chaos. The other survivors milled around there and the living room; the elderly taking care of the children and nobody speaking so much as a whisper. Houri was sitting at the kitchen table by herself watching her tea steep.
Vivian peeked out of the bedroom door for a moment, “Zebell! Get me some of that green unguent, the one that stops cuts from bleeding.” She paused when she saw Galun still standing there watching Houri. “Have you finished searching the houses? There could be some worse of than this one! Go.”
“Yes ma’am.” Galun said thickly before heading for the door. His face burned scarlet for a moment.
He was halfway down the street before Houri’s footsteps made him turn around. She looked at him with an expression that could shatter ice. Her eyes narrowed as he looked up at him, she gave off an air of ineffable strength. There was no point in arguing, and wordlessly, Galun followed.
Houri only grunted in reply and walked into the nearest house. Galun followed her, looking the place over carefully while Houri rushed through. This house was one of the many empty ones, the entire thing in disarray as if there had been a struggle to get the elves out. Houri stomped back out and went into the next house silently.
When she emerged and elderly elf followed sheepishly in her dressing gown. Houri gave him a half-hearted hug and he set off for Vivian’s house, his bare feet getting dusty on the road. Another three houses and they found two more dead elves and a small child. It was a baby and Houri couldn’t bring herself to look at it. Galun carefully took the little child and carried it back to Vivian who handed it off to another elf while she bustled around her kitchen boiling bandages and looking through many jars of unguents and potions.
When Galun got back to Houri she’d already sent another child running for Vivan. She was now standing outside of her own home. It was one of the largest in the village, built by her father and brother during the years before the raids. There were tears running down her eyes as she stared at the shattered doorframe. Galun’s heart raced as she stopped beside her.
“We’ll go in together, all right?” He whispered, putting an arm around Houri’s shoulders and hugging her closer to him.
The next house was again empty but Galun suddenly had a wary feeling in his gut. There was one more house before he reached his own, and just beyond his was Houri's. Galun shivered to think of his family; his grandmother sitting terrified in bed, unable to move her withered legs. Houri’s family was no better off; he was almost certain they would have taken Nilcreban, he was strong and would make a good worker. He knew her mother would be taken and sold and used; the thought broke his heart.
Galun took a breath and walked into the house before his. It wasn’t terribly dark, the windows let in some dim light through thin muslin curtains. The living room was empty and as Galun walked inside he heard somebody whimpering. Rushing toward the sound he came to one of the two bedrooms where a youth lay awkwardly on his bed.
The sheets, his clothing and hands were drenched and he was holding a wound on his right side. As Galun came in he jolted up but fell back again groaning loudly. The boy couldn't have been older than thirteen but he had a look of hopelessness, as if he knew nobody would come to help him. Galun rushed to the boy's side and picked him up. Blood was still running from the wound thickly, soaking through Galun's shirt as he ran down the road, bringing the boy in past many of the other survivors.
Vivian clicked her tongue and began working at once, pushing Galun out of the way and shouting for one of the older women to bring her cloth and a bowl of hot water. Galun was pushed from the bedroom where he had set the boy in to the kitchen. Galun looked around in the absolutely quiet chaos. The other survivors milled around there and the living room; the elderly taking care of the children and nobody speaking so much as a whisper. Houri was sitting at the kitchen table by herself watching her tea steep.
Vivian peeked out of the bedroom door for a moment, “Zebell! Get me some of that green unguent, the one that stops cuts from bleeding.” She paused when she saw Galun still standing there watching Houri. “Have you finished searching the houses? There could be some worse of than this one! Go.”
“Yes ma’am.” Galun said thickly before heading for the door. His face burned scarlet for a moment.
He was halfway down the street before Houri’s footsteps made him turn around. She looked at him with an expression that could shatter ice. Her eyes narrowed as he looked up at him, she gave off an air of ineffable strength. There was no point in arguing, and wordlessly, Galun followed.
Houri only grunted in reply and walked into the nearest house. Galun followed her, looking the place over carefully while Houri rushed through. This house was one of the many empty ones, the entire thing in disarray as if there had been a struggle to get the elves out. Houri stomped back out and went into the next house silently.
When she emerged and elderly elf followed sheepishly in her dressing gown. Houri gave him a half-hearted hug and he set off for Vivian’s house, his bare feet getting dusty on the road. Another three houses and they found two more dead elves and a small child. It was a baby and Houri couldn’t bring herself to look at it. Galun carefully took the little child and carried it back to Vivian who handed it off to another elf while she bustled around her kitchen boiling bandages and looking through many jars of unguents and potions.
When Galun got back to Houri she’d already sent another child running for Vivan. She was now standing outside of her own home. It was one of the largest in the village, built by her father and brother during the years before the raids. There were tears running down her eyes as she stared at the shattered doorframe. Galun’s heart raced as she stopped beside her.
“We’ll go in together, all right?” He whispered, putting an arm around Houri’s shoulders and hugging her closer to him.