The Autumn Republic

A nighttime camp came into focus around her. She could hear low voices, the crackling of a nearby fire, and the soft whinny of horses off in the darkness. She lay on her side, her left arm numb, and the smell of vomit stung her nostrils. A trail of crust along the corner of her mouth told her that the vomit was hers.

Blinking the tears of pain out of the corners of her eyes, she realized she was staring into a bruised, blood-caked face. The man lay on his side, facing her. He had been stripped to the waist and she could see thick black stripes on his bare shoulders and arms-he’d been whipped and beaten until he was raw. His hands were bound behind his back. The inhumanity of it made Nila want to recoil in horror.

She didn’t dare. If she moved, they would know she was awake and she might be given similar treatment. If she was lucky.

Her heart began to race again, the calm she had attained slipping away from her like grains of sand through her fingers. She could feel her arms trembling and then…

She recognized the man lying beside her.

It was Olem.

She bit back a curse. Was he still alive? “Olem,” she whispered, her own pain forgotten. “Olem!”

His eyes opened far too slowly for Nila’s liking. It took several moments before she could see the recognition in them. His short beard was matted to his face with blood, but she could see the corner of his mouth twitch upward.

“Glad to see you awake.” He coughed.

“What the pit did they do to you?” she hissed.

“Just asked some questions.”

“They beat you senseless!”

“They didn’t like the answers.”

She wanted to ask him if she was next, but it seemed insensitive. “Barbarians.”

“Yeah.” Olem shifted slightly, grunting in pain. “Pit, that hurts.”

“They have to give you medicine. I’ll shout until they do. How can they do this to a prisoner of war?”

“Shh,” he said. “Don’t say a word. Keep still for as long as you can. Most of them are asleep. They won’t bother you till morning.”

Her calm was completely gone now. “And if I wake them?”

“I don’t know. The commanding officer is the Gurlish Wolf. He’ll do just about anything. The rest of them aren’t much better.”

“I’ll burn this whole camp down.”

Olem gave a slight shake of his head, grimacing as he did so. “They don’t know you’re a Privileged.”

“Really?”

“No gloves, remember? I told them you were my secretary.”

Nila tried to find that place between reality and the Else again, but had no success. She couldn’t believe it had gone so wrong. One minute they’d been alone, and the next these Kez had erupted from the fog to kill them all. “We’re finished. Did they wipe us all out?”

Olem’s eyes had closed and for a moment she thought he had passed out. Then, “No. They hadn’t expected us to all be in close formation. It was heavy fighting for a while, then I got separated from the rest of the regiment. Been listening. They captured fifteen or twenty of us, killed a few dozen more, but the rest of the boys are still out there.”

“There’s hope, then?”

Olem didn’t respond to that. “Been listening,” he repeated. “They plan on sending my head back to Tamas. Probably with you. Best chance for you to get away from this.”

“No!” she said, a little too loudly. When no one seemed to take notice, she went on. “They wouldn’t!”

“They’re spreading fear and doubt. Trying to get Tamas off of Ipille’s trail. My head seems like a solid idea.”

“We’ll make a run for it,” Nila said. “We’ll slip out in the middle of the night. We can-”

Olem was shaking his head again. “Too dangerous. They’d just kill you too. This is the best way. That’s why I told them who I was.”

“Olem.” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “Olem, don’t say that.”

“Is all right,” he slurred. She could see his head droop. He was passing out.

“Olem, stay with me!”

There was no response. Nila tried to wake him several more times, and short of a cold bucket of water she didn’t think anything would do it. She prayed silently that he wouldn’t die right then and there.

She rolled over on her back and took stock of her surroundings. Forms around the nearby campfires snored in their bedrolls, and she could no longer hear any talking. She and Olem appeared to be unguarded, and that seemed odd to her. It took several moments of considering this to realize that they had no need of personal guards. He was beaten to within an inch of his life, and she was a mere secretary, and unconscious to boot.

She reached out and touched the Else. She could feel the sting of fire on her chafed wrists as her bonds melted away beneath her sorcery. A brief hint of burning hemp touched her nostrils and she was free.

Cautiously, slowly, she got to her feet. She checked Olem’s pulse-he was still alive, thank Adom-and then she began to walk quickly through the camp. No one paid her any mind. No one was awake to do so, and if they were, the still-thick fog obscured their vision. A few minutes later and she was past the last campfire.