LUCI

Treason

Days are long, and nights seem to be nearly nonexistent here. There is always work to be done, always someone that needs tending to.

There's a faint knock on the door as Elain and I finish cleaning our work spaces for the next day.

"I've got it."

Elain sets down the empty vials she had been arranging and peeks through the small window carved out from the wood of the door.

"It's Beth," she whispers, opening the door quickly to usher her in.

"What news have you?" Beth asks immediately upon entering.

"There was another hanging this morning," I reply, finishing wiping down my table, "other than that, nothing of importance."

"How many?" She begins to remove herbs from her basket and hand them to Elain to put away.

"Seven."

"All of them for treason?"

"It's always treason," Elain mutters.

The guards had arrived nearly two winters ago now, and the hangings started not long after, Elains husband, Marshall, being one of the first.

He had stolen some coin from one of the guards. The plan had been for him to go to the next village and get more food and seeds for the crops, but he never got the chance. A small boy, with purity still in his heart, made the guards aware of the theft by shouting that the coin wasn't his.

It wasn't his fault. He was raised not to steal, as we all were, and was merely following what he was taught. Had he truly understood the weight of what was at stake, he wouldn't have said anything, I truly believe that.

Marshall was caught and hanged the next morning. The guards deemed it treason, stating that to steal from the King's guard was to steal from the King himself.

We buried him ourselves, next to my brother, who passed from illness three winters before.

"Has there been any rain?" Beth changes the subject.

"Not a drop," I reply, "the ground is so dry that it can't even be plowed."

Beth quickly checks out the window before latching the door tightly and ushering us closer.

"There are whispers that it's the King's doing," she keeps her voice quiet.

"How could he possibly be keeping the rain?" Elain questions, disbelief in her tone.

"He trades out his healers from village to village, always seeking stronger magic," she glances to the window once more, "he dropped the last in my village. She said that the King's advisor is a being, the likes of which she has never seen. A man beyond men, that called the very clouds in the sky to the King's garden."

"That's impossible," I interject, "not even you can do something like that, and you're the strongest witch I've ever met."

"There are plenty that are stronger than me, child," her tone is more serious than I've ever heard it before, "if this is true, if this man can truly direct nature itself, the King could be keeping our crops from growing to keep us hungry and weak."

"So that we can't fight back," my thoughts trail off.

If it's true, it makes sense. The King wouldn't want angry villagers to be able to fight off his guards. He wouldn't want them to be able to fight back when the men are dragged off to war.

"What do we do?" I look to Beth, seeking guidance.

"There's not much we can do, I'm afraid, except be aware of it," her expression is sollum, "I must leave now. Keep your ears open."