Foreword: Never waste a good World Build, I say. If you have read previous of my entries to Gary’s site then some names and places might seem familiar, all part one piece of Creation. Links to some other associated tales shown at the end of this one….
The wind chilled and ceaseless whispered across the plane drawing up eddies of harsh small grained sands into waves which when catching anyone stung the skin and assailed eyes, nostrils and mouth. Only in the distance did there seem to be some promise of shelter, those tall, plain and blue grey hills. Surely they would have proper cover, rocks, caves, and things like that. Somewhere to hide from the harsh light of a cold sun.
Here on the plane, there were only patches of stonework implanted and through the administrations of the constant wind at odd angles, some having given in and now lay flat.
He could not recall how he had arrived here, so far from the lush green of his favoured country estate. The journey had started out with a simple afternoon stroll to give one an appetite before dinner. There were bits and pieces of memory of a sudden heavy downpour, confusing him in the noise and overwhelming deluge, amongst the slipping and slithering he had thought he was journeying back to his manse, somewhere though in the growing mud he had tumbled into a ditch, of great depth to end up here, standing, looking, feeling the sting of the sand. With no seeming option he stumbled to the hills.
The stones being flat and of various curvatures indicated design, with very faint markings indicating script. At another more fortunate time he might have studied these, this however was no occasion for such indulgences. He stepped on.
As he neared one particular tall stone, he saw, the unmistakeable sight of a booted foot, idly flipping back and forth, encouraged he took up his pace, drawing closer he could discern a soft singing although in an unfamiliar accent, thus the words unclear.
‘I say,’ he called out ‘I say,’
The foot stopped and a woman peaked around the stone, her face albeit weather beaten and bearing some lines indicated a continuing fairness of features, bright blue eyes sparkling, strands of blonde hair paling with age wafting in the wind. She waved in a tiny lady-like manner. Tipping one finger to the battered brim of a functional hat.
‘Hey, y’all. Welcome,’
And rose fully into view, absently dusting sand off of travel hardened clothing befitting, he thought, some person of the roads and byways.
‘Welcome?’ he quested, uncertain as to just what that boded. The place was hardly a domain to instil feelings of ease and comfort. And the woman’s continuing bright smile was giving him unease.
‘Yes,’ she drawled out the word, he detected a delight, his stomach lurched. ‘Now my manners. Introductions, Ah am Captain Arketre Beritt of the Imperial LifeGuard, an’ being semi-retired, on a detached duty workin’ with folks whose identities are somewhat elusive. Still, orders are orders, an’ they are affable enough, well to me that is. Ah’m here to expound the situation,’ she paused the smile taking on the hint of a leer ‘To clarify matters,’
His response came out as mostly stammer but with a measure of bluster.
‘Just what do you mean? I demand clarification. Have I been kidnapped? You should know I am Lord Halbrodol, with connections at the Imperial Court. I have stood as one of the thirty Ceremonial Witnesses at the Emperor’s side as he proclaimed an Imperial Judgment. On no less than four occasions. Explain yourself,’
‘Halbrodol,’ was her response with fore finger and thumb bracketing chin and eyes fixed on an indeterminate point ‘Halbrodol,’ she repeated to herself adding ‘Should have asked earlier o’course,’ and quite deaf to his subsequent outbursts continued with a murmured internal discourse, ceasing with a stap of the fingers. ‘Of the House Gouner. Yeah that’s it. You and your cousin were riding around with Duke Vydrak at Seige of Pradelch, not doin’ much as Ah recall, just posing and sayin’ yes to folk in a higher rank,’ she squinted ‘An’ then a few years down the road you turned up thankfully late for the Battle of Yermetz , one of the strutters and poseurs, Ah had to punch one of them for bein’ disrespectful to my regiment. Yeah House Gouner, always snufflin’ about for profit or doing little or nothin’ for the folks on the land you owned or kept orderly for higher-ups,’ she tapped the brim of her hat ‘LifeGuard has files on the little scavengers like your family, just in case your started getting’ big ideas. But you folk never do. Do you? Part of the supports,’ she stopped, squinted at him again ‘What the High Holy y’all been splutterin’ an’ fussin’ about. An’t y’all realised yet, you’re less than the sand grains here abouts?’
‘Did you not hear what I said?’
She threw back her head letting out a harsh bark of a laugh, enraged he lunged at her, she side stepped, tripping him up in the act, his head striking the stone she had been sitting behind, leaving him whimpering. She continued.
‘No Ah did not. Since you have not got the common sense to ask me the Whys, Hows and Wherefores what got you here, let me explain to you. Somewhere along the way you died, how Ah care not, or mebbe y’all got sucked up by forces, again Ah care not. And not you are here,’
Her voice was cold, the flippant mockery gone and he had not noticed those lines on her face, the sort which when he had seen them on men at social gatherings he had distanced himself from the fellows. Nonetheless in this current circumstance of continuing confusion and doubt he could not still his voice.
‘I have done nothing wrong,’
‘Was waiting for that. As Ah see it the Ethereal and Afterlife get all mixed up, mah wife knows more about it. Anyways there’s heavy symbolism here, y’see the stones,’ she turned hand sweeping in one gesture ‘What do they remind you of then?’
Having been introduced the possibility of death, prodded by question a stark, draining realisation came upon him.
‘Tomb Memorials,’
‘That’s right. Memorials to all those duties and responsibilities you shirked, forgot about or did not just think whether you had them,’ she gestured to the front of the stone, bidding him forwards; as much as he was already loathing her mocking or dismissively judgemental way, he could do naught but obey; here in this horrid place.
At the front she was crouched, with gloved hand brushing away the thin smear of sand.
‘See? Peer deeper and y’ll make out the faintness of writing. Look here, the name of the village where everyone was drowned or caste out onto the cold winter’s road when the flood came along the river you were asked to have dredged. See here the list of the folk who suffered a famine in the subsequence for loss of stores. All while you were away partyin’ and entertainin’,’ one finger pointed at him ‘All on you. Come hither,’
Despite his feeling this was not his fault he was drawn, as if a halter about his neck to a small stone and which she knelt and by one beckoning gesture pulled him closer until he was kneeling even closer.
‘You can’t see, but you can hear. Can’t y’? Small weeping sounds of orphans beaten, abused and taken as slaves, all within your jurisdiction. One you could not be bothered to look into. You just wrote off your officials had inspected and not taken bribes. Not even made the effort to take your own slice of the bribes. Signed off not bothering. You had princes to fawn before,’
Thin cries and screams cut into his ears as small knives, his fists would not block them
Unable to break the chain of judgment he was pulled to a broken memorial, jagged and pitted.
‘This bears witness small dispute between two communities over lands. Words lead to blows, which in turned to farm tools being used as weaponry, farms burnt, livestock and folk slain. The local sheriff asked for help, but you took advice to let it burn itself out and take hold of the land for your own,’
The smell of burnt wood, roasted flesh mixed with more hideous sounds, at an urging to block his senses with the sands he crammed handfuls into his mouth, nose and ears, to no avail. All under the cold gaze of the captain.
‘That don’t work here lord. These sands are not as compliant as your past pleasures. All gone now,’
‘What could have I done,’ he pleaded sands burning into his bent knees ‘I was but a mere lord. I had no influence,’
The captain leaned over the ruined tombstone, silhouetted against the sharp glare of the sun.
‘Y’all could have at least cared,’ she growled ‘You carried more abilities to take some actions, not like all those remembered here. They looked and hoped for some assistance,’ the coldness gave way to a growing anger ‘You might not have pressed them hard, directly exploited them, you might not have waged war on them or sold them to others. You did damn all though and by accounting of ledgers of Life, Misery and Death, that still puts you on the debit side. Doesn’t fit you into one of the Five Hells. Puts you here instead. In the place where you get to reflect. Take a look. A good look,’
‘A good look,’
The words echoed, the images turned from letter to faces, questioning and gaunt, accusing and bitter tear stained, each sight a claw to his being. He cried out in pain and staggered back, tripped over a fallen stone, upon which lists of names in five columns marked the passing of many innocents, his face fell into hot, biting sand, the sun’s unrelenting heat upon his face. One piece of relief, her shadow over him.
No relief from the voice though.
‘That’s all Ah have to tell you M’Lord. Welcome to your new home,’
And she crouched by him again, a whisper like a blade.
‘Don’t try and spend your energies trying to get to those hills. They are a lot longer away than y’d guess. And anyway what lurks up there. They’s worse than being out here. It’s not so bad. Y’all not be alone. Once you get used to it, y’ll see shadows of folk like you wandering about their own patch of Retribution. Misery shared, apparently is a misery halved. Enough of you here abouts to minimise it to just a very bad itch or a running sore,’
She roughly patted his back.
He looked up.
She was gone.
And he?
He hoped he would go insane, at some stage and lose his senses.
‘Hey Kitlin. Ah’m back,’
Her tall dark haired wife embraced her, The Captain relished the comfort.
‘How was it darling Flaxi?’
‘Going’ there regular don’t make it easier. An’ Ah keep meeting these other folk about similar businesses. Like this dead hero, who now goes about helping goodly folk near death to go one way or another. It’s a crowded place beyond this world. Makes you appreciate what y’all have,’
‘Aye. Truly. But to cheerful things. I managed to master steak pie for supper. Mistress Whtly’s recipe. Wash your hands. Sit down and tell me all about it, and I’ll do the rationalising for you. I keep telling you there’s more to that Ethereal and Afterlives than we reckon,’
‘Rationalising Ah could do with. This tour of duty is makin’ me fret about Death,’
A hand grasped hers and stroked it.
‘You, my love, care about ordinary folk. That goes a long way,’
Beritt thought those words would be suitable for her tombstone memorial.
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