“The Auralian Hero?” the boy said, glancing warily at Lorcan. I saw the hero worship blossom when my knight nodded once. “And the Leader of the Mountain Folk?”
“Yes,” Keryn said, bowing. “At your service, child. Where are your parents?”
“Dead. Palla’s, too.”
“Who are they?” The boy gestured at our friends, and then to the girl, Palla. She dropped her hand to her side, but her knuckles were white beneath the grime, clenched around the hilt.
“Tahra and Tovian.” I didn’t bother to try and explain that the Ansi were not, in fact, a myth. We’ve already stretched these children’s imagination by having the Princess and the Hero show up on a random day in August. “How long have you been here, alone?”
“Since the snowfalls in spring. Pirates killed everyone as they moved through. We escaped.”
“They’re gone,” Lorcan said. He offered his hand. The boy warily placed his palm in the center, nearly as large, but thin. Starved, like me.
The children’s families almost survived. I can see the self-recrimination writ on Lorcan’s face. Had he worked a little faster, been more ruthless…
He was one person. A legend, yes, but one person against an army.
“You couldn’t be everywhere,” I told him softly, squeezing his shoulder. Lorcan glanced quickly at me, then at Palla. Scanning for any sign of danger, even from a child.
“We didn’t know if it was safe to leave. You’re the first people to stop here in months.”
The girl’s hard eyes closed briefly. When they opened again, there was a sheen of tears, but nothing fell. My heart broke.
“It’s all right now. You’re safe.” I opened my arms. Palla shook her head slowly, but a smaller girl burst out of the shadows and ran into them, sobbing. She was so light I could pick her up easily.
“Yenita, get back,” the boy barked, but it was too late. The child in my arms clung tightly to me. Her hair and clothing were pungent with filth but I didn’t care. All that mattered was that this little girl had been through a trial no one should ever have to endure, and it was over.
* * *
There were four children in the encampment. Bennet, the eldest boy, was fourteen. The youngest was a boy around five named Filo. Palla, twelve, hadn’t spoken a single word in months, though she was an adept hunter. Yenita, nine, was the chattiest of the group. She clung to me like a burr, and when I needed to disentangle myself for a few minutes, latched onto Keryn like a tiny monkey scaling a large tree.
All of them were malnourished and dirty. We had no appropriately-sized clothes to give them, so after we set up camp for the evening, Tovian and Tahra went to search the dwellings. Keryn hauled water to heat over the fire for a bath, and Lorcan, of course, cooked.
The children had a few plantains in their stores. The starchy fruits, what edible plants they could harvest, and any small game Palla and Bennet could kill were all they had subsisted upon for months.
Lorcan’s apprehension radiated off him. Mindful of how feeding me made me sick. But the children aren’t as far gone as I was. They ate and kept it down without incident.
Filo was particularly resistant to the bath Tahra tried to give him. The rest of the children obediently scrubbed until the warm water turned a mucky grayish brown with filth.
But they were clean, safe and fed for the first time in months. The three youngest ones slept in a pile on Lorcan’s bedroll. He would share mine. Bennet had his own pallet, though he insisted upon staying up, sitting near Tahra and clearly enthralled with Lorcan, listening to Keryn and Tovian exchange stories of fighting during the war.
“We can’t leave them here,” I told him, when the fire had died low and Lorcan and I were the only ones left awake.
“The horses are already carrying too much weight.”
“Iwon’tleave them here.”
He kissed my temple. The dying fire popped.
“I know, Princess. I won’t either. We’ll look for a wagon in the morning.”
There was no wagon. We searched the burned-out remnants of the village for anything that might suffice, with no luck. So, Palla rode pillion behind me on my horse, Tovian took Bennet, Lorcan took Filo, and Yenita sat in front of Tahra. Keryn’s huge mount carried a disproportionate amount of gear, though we had to leave much of it behind. Slowly, we trudged up the incline of rocky, arid land abuzz with insects in the grass. It cost us a day of travel, but it was worth it to rescue these abandoned children.
Three days later, we arrived in Cannavale, on the southern edge of Central Auralia. The town had been occupied for a time, before Lorcan freed it. Here, he was truly a legend, and greeted accordingly.
Of all the villages that had been occupied and burned, Cannavale has made the biggest comeback. Its citizens were rebuilding using rubble from the destroyed town, salvaging timber where they could, and mostly restoring the center of the city. The city’s location as a waypoint between the castle, the Sun Temple, and the southern districts made it a strategic and economic stronghold.
We took lodgings in the local inn. Lorcan and I took one room, while Tahra, Palla and Yenita shared another, Tovian, Bennet and Filo another, and Keryn had one all to themselves.
