Mindless

Chapter 9 Fahlan

Fahlan stands in the center of the main street and turns in a slow half-circle.

Where could they have gone? He sent Adalbert and Estienne to the West, Tumas and Reinald to the South, and Cornwall and Caius to the East. They'll search for any sign of someone hiding them. Instinct tells him they won't find anything; the other villages have been compliant thus far—he cannot imagine they would turn now.

He belabors not to think of Hamad and Caius in the street, standing uselessly before the receding tempest. He doesn't doubt they would have stopped the villagers if they had seen them, but they hadn't seen them. Purportedly alone in the night but for each other, they had failed to see the passage of three score villagers moving on the streets. It astounds him.

Through what means had they become so lax? A king murdered in his bed, a village beguiled by the false, and now a flight right before their eyes completely missed. It astounds him.

Much of the guard is young. Being such a peaceful kingdom, the guard hardly provided a lasting trade, and those who came to it often had more family than inheritance. So saying, many of them left when a trade was found elsewhere or a new family made. Fahlan, Jerditch, Reinald's line. Cornwall, Adalbert, Estienne. The trunk between those who live the guard and those who excelled ad interim had blinded him to the branches which had become infested.

Caius, Hamad, Tobin. How many more would have stood in the same position and found the same results?

Jerditch stands slightly to one side of him, waiting for him to finish his rotation. If he had news, he wouldn't be waiting.

"Report," Fahlan commands.

"Naught sign of them, sir."

"None?" He rebukes mildly, arching an eyebrow at his lieutenant. "What do you smell?"

Confusion passes over his face, but he inhales deeply through the nose.

Fahlan continues turning. "Catch it?"

He inhales again. Then once more, slowly. "Smoke?"

"Smoke," Fahlan confirms.

Jerditch hesitates. "But that's not unusual, sir, is it? Afterall, it's just past breakfast. Much of the kingdom would have their stoves burning."

The captain sighs. He's right, but they need to look between the leaves. "Lieutenant, from which direction is the wind blowing?"

"The north, sir," he answers promptly.

Understanding. Application. Progress. "So should we smell the rest of the kingdom?"

Jerditch's head snaps to face the forest in a breath. "In there?"

"That's my guess." He reverses in his half-circle again, scanning the tops of the trees. "Now if we could find where the smoke is coming from, we might find our missing flock."

Jerditch peers at the same area. After a mere moment, he points. "There."

Fahlan follows his gesture: a few meters to the left of where they're standing, a billow of grey smoke filters to the sky. It disperses quickly in the wind, and Fahlan has to watch the spot where Jerditch is pointing for several seconds before he catches it at all, but once he does, he claps his lieutenant approvingly on the shoulder.

"Recall the men."

The lieutenant puts his fingers to his lips and releases three piercing whistles. Most of their company is still within the vicinity, but the six men who went to the rest of the kingdom would hear the signal and know to return. A small crowd forms around them quickly, but Fahlan waits for everyone. His men are disciplined enough to wait for him to speak. Tumas and Reinald are the last to arrive.