The Tellanon

6. Promise

Some women stood on the walls. Some women stood on towers. Some women stood in the street. Most women, however, stood outside the gates, in long lines, as the men were leaving. The girls of above twelve stood away from the others. Emyra was there among them, the women behind her, the men before her. From above, it must have looked like a sea of dark blond hair, a sea of women, an ocean of black dresses. Voices rose and fell with the wind, a lament for the men that were to die.

The men stood, looking like the men they were; sailors, students, farmers, shop owners, fathers. They didn’t look like soldiers. They weren’t. Their clothes were faded, and most swords were likely to break. What would they die for? For an order they hated and a land they did not know. The fall of Valharis would gain nothing for their families, would gain nothing for Thén. Only for the Tellanon. The fear of the Tellanon drove them out of the gate, away from their homes. Only some stayed behind; vital smiths and armourers, traders, some farmers, some fishermen; just enough to keep the vital economy flowing.

For most families, however, the loss of their men was devastating. They lost all their income. Emyra counted herself lucky that her mother worked. She knew Michelle would have to work somewhere now, and maybe she herself as well. It was  nothing to worry about, though. Work couldn’t be half so bad as school was with the Tellanon teachers that replaced the commoners that had taught her before, and her mother already worked enough to keep them going, if Allen and her father were away.

What really bothered Emyra was not her life, but that of her father and brother. Their lives were likely to end, and they knew none of her secrets. Her father had her diary, but as that was of four years ago, when she was ten, it didn’t hold many secrets.

She stood on the grass, barefoot, like all other women, the wind whipping her hair in her face, crying, when she caught a last glimpse of the men of Merrón, that was when she broke. She broke everywhere. She broke in the places where she was free, she broke in the places she loved Allen and her father, she broke in the legs that had carried her up so many towers, she broke in her stomach that was cramped with fear, she broke in her face that was contorted in fear and loss, she broke in her eyes.  She sang along with all the others, in a voice as broken as theirs. Her eyes were red and swollen, as she tried to find her father’s face in the sea of men.  When they turned away, she whispered “Ellana Mathiris.”

No one knew many words of the Elder speech, but Ellana Mathiris was commonly known and frequently used. It meant ‘stay strong’ and was used whenever someone was about to do something important.

When the men turned away, the women watched. It was all tradition, but the women and children were glad for it. One last look upon the faces of those they loved, their fathers, uncles, brothers, and friends, the people that were sure to die. Tradition bade them watch until the men disappeared over the northern horizon, but there was no need to tell them to. The women would stand there for years if that would guarantee the safety of the men. Somewhere far away, in another world, a priest started doing what he was best at; preaching.  Emyra did not hear him, lost as she was in the tales of gruesome battles, lost in her nightmares and in the broken feeling she had.

Suddenly, her mind remembered the best thing that it could remember.  Today she would meet  Berren. All broken parts put themselves together again, all hopelessness drained from her. She could grieve, but there was one thing she had to do, and she had to be strong. She would have to reason with Berren. Breaking down, crying, it would not help. She would have to be able to use her sense. Only when she had succeeded could she allow herself to grieve. She was certain she would convince Berren, but found it hard to make up any good way to do so.

When the men had disappeared over the horizon, leaving a trail of trampled grass behind, her stomach still tied itself in knots and her head still ached, she still trembled, and she was still desperate, but she knew what she needed to do, so she put all her pain away and put her mind to the task ahead.  She thought back to three months ago, when she had met Berren. She remembered thinking she had never lost a person, remembered thinking her diary wasn’t very interesting. Something had changed that. She felt adventure was coming her way, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She was quite certain, though, she didn’t want it.