The Exiles

27. Caravan

In the dark of the night, someone shook Attin violently as he slept in his bed, dreaming uncomfortably of unfamiliar dark corridors, yet something about them called to him: Come. Find me.

"Attin, brother, wake up!" Ursa's urgent yet hushed whisper tickled hot against his ear and neck. "They are leaving."

"Already?" Attin, despite being sleepy, sprang up on his bed, careful not to wake up little Mawsie, who had crawled up in his bed, afraid of the shadows in his room. Poor boy. "Why so early? What time is it?" He glanced at the darkly veiled windows of the chamber. The night outside pooled like the deepest lakes he'd ever seen. If he had to guess, it was midnight.

He looked at Ursa, already dressed in her travelling cloak, courtesy of their aunt and uncle. His sister looked older suddenly, with her long hair plaited in the style of a Chymer Princess. She looked like a fierce warrior, with her determined eyes boring down on him.

"Are you still coming? Or would you rather sleep? Quick, brother, for the caravan may leave without both of us."

"Ursa!" came the urgent hush from the doorway as Amer popped his head in.

Is he wearing armour? Attin squinted at the figure before clamouring out of bed and tucking the covers around their little brother tightly so the boy wouldn't fall out of bed. Stifling an unwelcomed yawn, he grabbed his cloak from the foot of the bed, fastened it about his thin frame, and stood straight. "Ready."

Ursa shook her head, and in the dim light of the dark room, he could see her smile a little. "It is cold outside, brother. You shall freeze to death in that." She quickly grabbed the pile of clothes and the boots she'd brought with her, the pile that sat on his chair currently. She passed them to him and said, "Dress. Quickly. We will wait outside for you."

Attin's heart leapt to his throat in panic. What if they leave without me? "You better wait, or I'll portal my way to the caravan."

Suddenly, Ursa turned and clamped her hands over his mouth, whispering ever so quietly that Attin doubted their elder brother could hear it, even if he tried. "Don't you dare! We must keep your weave a secret. As far as you're concerned, little brother, you haven't yet mastered any arts. Papa's words. Not mine. Under no circumstance are you to reveal your true nature tonight at the Council of Lords. Not until Papa tells you to reveal yourself to anyone. Do you hear me?"

Attin nodded, and upon Ursa releasing his mouth, he whispered, "Papa said that? For me to hide my powers? From everyone? Including uncle and aunty."

"Everyone." Ursa stood resolutely straight and tapped the clothes in his hands. "You never know who is watching, nor who is or isn't a friend. Not at a time like this. Best play our cards close to our hearts." She leaned in and kissed his forehead. "Now, get dressed before you have to run to catch the caravan. Though I dare say it will be hilarious to watch you run."

"Ha. Ha. Funny." Attin pulled a face, throwing the pile onto the bed and rushing to disrobe.

Ursa glanced briefly at Mawsie stirring in the bed with a look she often gave him, like he was her son, before turning on her heels and joining Amer outside.

Let us just say, Attin made it just in time before the caravan left the three Silvertongue children behind, garnering him a scathing look from Amer.

"Next time, we will leave you behind."

***

Silent Hill, or the Council Rock, as they knew it, loomed ahead, earning its name. The steep, table-top hill, upon which sat a natural plateau, made it a perfect place to observe the land below, yet, was difficult to be seen from prying eyes. A perfect place to hold a large council of leaders, all exposed equal, all protected equally.