Prince of Dogs

Page 83

“Saved by a miracle,” murmured Master Helvidius. “And now what will become of us?”
The young lord and his retinue waited beside the gate to Steleshame. They only watched, mounted on their fine horses, but the sick feeling in her chest curdled and turned sour. They only watched, but they would enforce this order. Any child who ran into the forest would be hunted down and brought back. Mistress Gisela stood beside them. Anna imagined she surveyed the chaos with satisfaction. Soon she would be rid of most of the refugees who had been such a burden on her, and if Helvidius was right, she would keep exactly those people who would do her the most good.
Ai, Lady. Where was Matthias?
“I have to go find Matthias!” she said to Helvidius. “Keep watch over—” She set Helen down and the little girl set up a howling.
“Don’t leave me!” he gasped, suddenly white and leaning on his stick as if he might fall the next instant. “If they go— I don’t believe I can walk so far alone, me and the child—”
“I won’t leave you!” she promised.
“Anna!”
Matthias came running with one of the men from the tannery. They conferred hastily with a sergeant, who stepped back from the pungent smell that clung to their clothes. Quickly enough, Anna, Helvidius, and little Helen were called out of the line.
“Yes,” said Matthias, “this is my grandfather and my two sisters.”
“You’re to stay here, then,” said the sergeant, and dismissed them by turning away to order his soldiers into formation, a group in the van and one at the end and some to march single file on either side of the refugees. Anna could not tell whether this was meant to protect the refugees or to keep them from escaping the line.
“Come on, then, lad,” said the tanner with a frown, glancing toward the mob of children and away as quickly, as if he didn’t like what he saw. “Let’s get back to work.” He walked away.
Anna started after him. She had no desire to stay and watch.
“Anna!” Matthias called her back. “We’re to get a hut. Give the canvas over to those poor souls, and the pot, too. And you may as well give over the food as well, what poor scraps there are. There’s so few of us left here that we won’t want for so much, not until late in the winter, anyway, and those scraps will help them better than us.”
She stared as the soldiers at the van started forward. Slowly, like a lurching cart, the line of children moved forward, and the wailing and crying reached a sudden over-whelming pitch. “I can’t do it,” she said, sobbing. “How can you choose? You do it.” She blindly thrust canvas, pot, and food pouch into Matthias’ arms and then grabbed Helen up and ran as well as she could back toward the tannery precincts. She could not bear to watch the others march away into what danger and what uncertainty she could not imagine, only dreaded to think of walking there herself. Ai, Lady, what would they eat? Where would they shelter? What if the cold autumn winds turned to the cruel storms of winter? How many would even reach the distant east, and what would become of them, saved from Gent and yet driven away from this haven, such as it was, by the greed of householder and duchess working in concert?
And yet perhaps it was too hard to shelter so many here with no rescue for Gent in sight—for surely no one expected the young lord and his retinue to drive the Eika away on their own.
Helen had stopped bawling and now clung to her in silence. She paused on the rise and stared back as the mob of children, hundreds of them, started walking reluctantly, resignedly, toddlers stumbling along in the wake of elder children, thin legs bare to the cold, their pathetic belongings strapped to backs already bowed under the weight. They had so far to go.
Tears blinded her briefly as a glint of sun struck out from a rent in the clouds and shone into the midst of the line of children. She blinked back a blurring vision of a bright figure walking among them, a woman robed in a white tunic with blood dripping down her hands, and then the vision vanished. Anna turned away to look toward the young lord who surveyed this exodus with dispassion.
Master Helvidius hobbled up beside her, so exhausted from the morning’s excitement, his legs buckling under him, that she and Matthias had to half carry him back to the tannery. Little Helen walked beside them singing a tuneless melody, and by the time Master Helvidius and Helen were settled in the shelter of a lean-to set up against the tannery fence, and Matthias sent back to work, and Anna gone out again to the stream to haul water, the line of refugees had vanished from sight.
Only the deserted camp remained.