Naked Empire

Richard rolled the dead soldier over to pull the belt the rest of the way out from under the man. As he tugged it free, he heard a noise and turned just in time to see another soldier running in toward them.

Anson slammed the long knife hilt-deep into the man's chest. The man staggered back. Richard shot to his feet, bringing the weapon belt with him.

The soldier gasped for breath as he clutched at the knife handle. He dropped heavily to his knees. One hand clawed at the air above him as he swayed.

Pulling a final gasp, he toppled to his side.

Anson stood staring at the man lying in a heap, the knife jutting from his chest. He bent, then, and pulled his new knife free.

"Are you all right?" Richard whispered when Anson stood.

Anson nodded. "I recognize this man. We called him the weasel. He deserved to die."

Richard gently clapped Anson on the back of the shoulder. "You did well. Now, let's get out of here."

As they made their way back up the street, Richard asked Anson to wait while he checked down alleyways and between low buildings, searching for soldiers. As a guide, Richard often scouted at night. In the darkness, he was in his element.

The town was a lot smaller than he had expected. It was also much less organized than he thought it would be, with no apparent order to where the simple structures had been built. The streets through the haphazard town, if they could be called streets, were in most cases little more than footpaths between clusters of small, single-room buildings. He saw a few handcarts, but nothing more elaborate. There was only one road through the town, leading back to the barn where they had recovered the antidote and run into the two soldiers, that was wide enough to accommodate a wagon. His search didn't turn up any patrolling soldiers.

"Do you know if all the men of the Order stay together?" Richard asked when he returned to Anson, waiting in the shadows.

"At night they go inside. They sleep in our place, by where we came in."

"You mean that low building where the first two soldiers went?"

"That's right. That's where most people used to gather at night, but now the men of the Order use it for themselves."

Richard frowned at the man. "You mean you all slept together?"

Anson sounded mildly surprised by the question. "Yes. We were together whenever possible. Many people had a house where they could work, eat, and keep belongings, but they rarely slept in them. We usually all slept in the sleeping houses where we gathered to talk about the day. Everyone wanted to be together. Sometimes people would sleep in another place, but mostly we sleep there together so we can all feel safe-much like we all slept together at night as we made our way down out of the pass with the statue."

"And everyone just… lay down together?"

Anson diverted his eyes. "Couples often slept apart from others by being with one another under a single blanket, but they were still together with our people. In the dark, though, no one could see them.. together under a blanket."

Richard had trouble imagining such a way of life. "The whole town fit in that sleeping building? There was enough room?"

"No, there were too many of us to all sleep in one sleeping house.

There are two." Anson pointed. "There is another on the far side of the one you saw."

"Let's go have a look, then."

They moved quickly back toward the town gates, such as they were, and toward the sleeping houses. The dark street was empty. Richard didn't see anyone on the paths between buildings. What people were left in the town had apparently gone to sleep or were afraid to come out in the darkness.

A door in one of the small homes opened a crack, as if someone inside were peering out. The door opened wider and a thin figure dashed out toward them.

"Anson!" came the whispered voice.

It was a boy, in his early teens. He fell to his knees and clutched Anson's arm, kissing his hand in joy to see him.

"Anson, I am so happy that you are home! We've missed you so much. We feared for you-feared that you were murdered."

Anson grabbed the boy by his shirt and hauled him to his feet. "Bernie, I'm well and I'm happy to see you well, but you must go back in now. The men will see you. If they catch you outside…"

"Oh, please, Anson, come sleep at our house. We're so alone and afraid."

"Who?"

"Just me and my grandfather, now. Please come in and be with us."

"I can't right now. Maybe another time."

The boy peered up at Richard, then, and when he saw that he didn't recognize him shrank back.

"This is a friend of mine, Bernie-from another town." Anson squatted down beside the boy. "Please, Bernie, I will return, but you must go back inside and stay there tonight. Don't come out. We fear there might be trouble. Stay inside. Tell your grandfather my words, will you now?"

Bernie finally agreed and ran back into the dark doorway. Richard was eager to get out of the town before anyone else came out to pay their respects. If he and Anson weren't careful, they would end up attracting the attention of the soldiers.