Fractured Earth

Chapter 5

There was a commotion outside Warden Isen's barracks. She willed her eyes open through the fug of sleep and sat up, looking around. A few of her companions were propped up on their elbows listening; the others, damn them, were somehow still asleep. In a dream-clinging haze she tried to focus on the conversation but she could only hear muted snippets carried away by the plucky breeze that had picked up overnight. Sighing, she lay down again. It was still dark; not time to rise yet. She'd find out what was going on in the morning if it was important. Meanwhile she might get back to sleep for whatever scant hours were left until daybreak.

"Warden Isen?" The door to the barracks had opened; that was Marshal Lysit's voice.

"Here," Isen replied groggily and swung her legs over the edge of the bunk. She'd been dreaming about fishing with a rod from a wooden skiff out on Lake Siashim. She'd never fished from a boat in her life.

"Sorry - I know it's early. Could you please come outside when you're dressed?"

"Right," Her reply sounded gruff but Lysit knew how grumpy she got when her sleep was disturbed. She'd understand. She scrabbled in the box-drawers by the side of her bunk, dragged out her uniform and climbed wearily into it. The sweat of a busy sleep still clung to her; she'd shower and put on a clean uniform later. She pulled her unruly hair back and twisted it into a knot, securing it with a tie as she stumbled along the lane between the two rows of beds towards the door.

There was a small crowd of people outside her barracks prefab, gathered in the pool of yellow light cast by one of their lamps. The biting chill breeze on her skin woke her up immediately. Marshal Lysit, Marshal Rayves, even Arbiter Dazoud - and Elder Iteldu, from the Nyis. She only barely recognised the Elder; he was dressed warmly, his usual bare chest and legs suited for the humid climate of the forest floor replaced with wrappings of cloth and fur. Looking around, she spotted a trio of accompanying hunters standing further back, using a wall to shield themselves from the breeze.

"Ah, Warden Isen," Arbiter Dazoud greeted her. "Sorry to wake you, but needs must."

"Sir," She raised her hand stiffly to her chest and then snapped it back to her side. "What's going on?"

"The Missionary are causing problems down at the village," Marshal Lysit filled her in. "They've somehow found out that Oleipha left, and have been trying to bully the Elder into caving to more of their demands."

"Demands? They've made us leave; what more could they want?"

"A share of our clay," Elder Iteldu addressed her. "In... How did they put it? 'Penance for our sins'."

"What?" Isen balked. "They can't do that!"

"I know," Elder Iteldu said. "But they are trying - if we do not comply, they will withdraw their trade."

"Maybe not such a bad thing," Isen growled. She knew the Missionary had dubious practices and had heard about things like this happening, but hoped it was mostly unfounded hear-say.

"Indeed," The Elder smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Some of my people are... Less wise, when it comes to matters of politics. They see only that they have become wealthy in trade from the Missionary presence in our village, and think that a percentage of ware from our mine is an acceptable price to pay for our 'betrayal'. Some even hold me accountable for letting this happen in the first place - for letting Oleipha leave."

"But you feel differently," Marshal Rayves' deep voice carried strongly over the flurried night air. "Or you wouldn't be here."

"I feel it is time Nyis stopped accommodating the fanciful notions of the Missionaries," Elder Iteldu bowed slightly before the present Commensurate. "And plan to ask them to leave the village."