The Furies of Lethra

Chapter 44

Body upon body piled up atop one another in the most unrefined way. The bringing out of the fallen had taken up most of the morning, with sweating furies and nones trudging about, their hands caked with tacky blood. James and Twill stood next to the pit; room had run out so they dug beside it, trying to make the hole bigger to fit the rest. James placed his boot against the metal top of the shovel and grunted as he pushed it further into the hard earth.

"Ya doing alright, James?" Twill asked. He bend down with a groan, picked up the mound of dirt and dropped it off to the side. He paused for a moment to crack his back.

"I'll be fine."

"Whatever ya say, brother," Twill replied, digging the tip of his shovel back down into the ground.

They listened to the sounds of constant thuds from the stiffened bodies that were thrown down beside them. James looked over and saw the lifeless faces peering into afternoon sunlight, unblinking. He saw a familiar face almost buried by the capes of the pit's inhabitants. His eyes remained in sight with the rest of his body holding the weight of others. Damien.

"Hey!" James yelled over to a group of furies placing more bodies in the pit. Twill paused and looked to James in confusion, "Take this boy out of here, please," he pointed to Damien and the furies looked at each other and shrugged. The two women groaned at the weight they removed from the top of him but managed to drag him out after only a few minutes. Twill recognized Damien and halted his work. He removed his hat and placed it delicately over his chest in a silent respect.

"Where do you want him?" A fury asked, sweat pouring down her face.

"Put him in the boneyard in the back right corner please," James said. He lifted his shovel and began to hobble over towards the boneyard, following close behind the furies who handled Damien carefully.

Twill was so caught up with the task at hand, that at first he didn't see James walk away from the current job. After several minutes had passed, Twill noticed his brother's absence out of the corner of his eye and looked frantically around to find him. He spotted him digging in the boneyard. With a small sigh and a smile, Twill worked his way over to help James, who was already off to a good start with the grave he'd started digging. Twill dipped his shovel in without a word to James. In response, James looked up quietly and grinned ear to ear at his brother before returning to the backbreaking work that lay ahead.

~*~

"We need to go through and take down everyone's name," Tara said, nearly falling face first into a chest full of jewelry and other fine treasures.

"Don't forget we should probably get the towns they plan on moving to," Gwen added. She watched Tara look at the items thrown about before tossing them to some designated piles that lay behind her, "Why are you separating them?"

"Some of this stuff is easy to carry out of here but others we'll have to break apart," she tossed a candelabra behind her and almost hit Gwen in the face.

"Right.." Gwen kicked the candelabra off to the side, "I'm going to go check on Erin and start getting the information down."

"Sounds good," Tara inspected a necklace with a nearly translucent blue gem hanging from it, "Send the furies and nones up here afterwards."

Gwen made her way to the door and opened it slowly. The hall remained crowded with the booming echoes of the people working hard throughout the fortress, "You got it."

~*~

"I need your best room," Dia stated to Terry. He stood behind the bar scrubbing leftover foam from an empty tankard and looked up at the sound of the cold female voice in front of him.

The silk dress hugged at her; shredded in several places and covered in dirt. Long dark hair tangled around itself making it an almost perfect bird's nest. Terry peered down to her feet, which were coated in dried mud with a red tinge to it. He raised an eyebrow.

"Did I stutter?" she asked, placing a hand on her hip, "Give. Me. Your. Best. Room."

"We don't talk to each other like that round here, so you best change it fast or find somewhere else to go."

Dia scowled, walked over to the stool in front of Terry, and sat down. She had almost forgotten that life was a different story outside of the fortress. An overly exaggerated smile crossed her red lips, "May I please get a room for tonight?"

A small chuckle came from Terry. He placed down the now scrubbed tankard and turned around behind him to grab a key from the wall.

"Five coppers for the night," the key slide across the counter. Dia went and picked it up, feeling the moisture from the bar that had latched on to it.

"I don't have five coppers on me," she replied. She placed the key down on the clammy wooden surface before her. Quickly, Terry's went and snatched up the key without a second thought.

"Then I can't help you."

Sighing, Dia stood from the uncomfortable seat. She rubbed at her tailbone from the immediate relief and spread more dirt along the already lost silk garment.

"She can take my room," a voice yelled from a table in the bar.

Dia moved her eyes through the entire establishment in an attempt to find where the familiar voice came from. Men and women sat conversing and laughing at such high volumes that she flinched. Tankards hit hard against tables. Thud after thud, but no sign of her savior. Towards the far end of the inn she noticed the round head behind a large drink of ale. After smirking to herself, she strutted over, exuding confidence even in the rag she wore. She shivered against the chill of the bench she placed herself upon and brought her hands to rest gently against her lap.

"I'm glad to see you alive, Tomas," she smiled vehemently.