The Splintering of the Sky

Chapter One

The moon still rose over Telleren when the night fell. Stars still blinked into
life as the daylight failed. Vendra found this remarkable and could not recall a
single clear night since its splintering when the sky had not glittered like it did this evening.

She dropped her gaze from the sky to the flames that danced beneath her
cooking pot and seduced her with the scent of woodsmoke and stewing rabbit.

The evening was pleasantly warm, and the crackle of the fire and the
anticipation of supper peaked Vendra's heart with a nostalgic twinge. It was
strange how memories were provoked by the senses. Certain sounds and
textures that summoned recollection, and pain with it.

Vendra succumbed to the lure and slipped into a hurtful reverie. The door
opened on the past and she found her grandmother and Tara beyond it. Beyond the present and the horror of the sky rift. Beyond any remotest idea of the world not being lit up by their smiles and compassion.

But the flashback also reminded her that they were also beyond her deepest
wish to be able to hold them again. The realisation made Vendra's heart ache
so badly that it suffocated her.

With a sigh she leaned forward to stir the stew, taking a little of it on the edge
of the wooden spoon to taste. It was hot and would do. It was missing salt, but since that was such a rare commodity these days, she would have to be content with a sprinkling of wild parsley for seasoning.

As she spooned the stew onto a plate and began to eat, she reflected how the
coming of the Scalebacks had been an unwelcome lesson in what was
ultimately important in life. Not the gold or silver, not the expensive clothes or trinkets. Just the smallest spoonful of salt was now priceless beside them.

In the old days, smugglers had made their money bootlegging all manner of exotic goods from lands at the remotest edges of the world. But now a fortune was to be had for anyone brave enough to venture into the forests and mountains of the east where the old salt mines lay and bring back even a handful of its treasure.

But the risks were high. After the sky had cracked, the Scalebacks had
appeared in those regions. Thousands had fled with tales of their brutality and
their hideous appearance. How they had captured many, forcing them to work to mine coal to feed into great machines that belched black smoke day and night. How they could disguise themselves as men, women and children, but beneath the façade had the faces of snakes.

Huge swathes of the eastern reaches of Telleren were now out-of-bounds for
anyone except the highly courageous or the incurably foolhardy. Vendra had
heard other stories, of how whole legions of soldiers sent into those areas had never returned. Most horrific of all had been the disappearance of the High
Schwerd, who had insisted on personally taking charge of regaining control of the east, only to lead his elite men-at-arms into assumed oblivion.

Vendra's sympathy had immediately been aroused for the High Schwerd's
daughter upon her hearing of the incident. How could a fifteen year old girl be ready to lose a father and govern a kingdom? Vendra had often asked the same question of herself, bemused that somehow she had managed to survive and forge out a continuing existence in the aftermath of her own loss.

She spooned the last of the bland stew into her mouth and scraped her plate
clean with a piece of the dry, flavourless baked flour and water that pretended to be bread nowadays. Her supplies were low and she knew that she would need a profitable day at the market tomorrow if she were to have enough resources for the next few weeks and the next leg of her journey to the Scroll Keep. Times were hard and not set to improve anytime soon. The provocative actions of the Scalebacks had put a huge strain on Telleren's economy, with the disruption of vital trade routes that passed through the territory they occupied. People just didn't have the luxury anymore of using their money to buy items that were not absolutely necessary.

But in such uncertain times, there was still a market for reassurance. People had no idea what the next day might bring and that was both the people's problem and Vendra's opportunity. Hope was in short supply. The fabric of the physical world had shown itself to be beyond absolute certainty, and in the absence of this assurance, the people grasped hold of hope wherever it was to be found.

Tomorrow, she would once more be a purveyor of hope, a peddler of promise. All for the price of a loaf of bread.