Rage and Rebellion (Histories of Havenhearth)

4.7 Callira

It seemed that she had only just fallen asleep when she was woken by the natural sounds of the morning: the making of the fire, the boiling of water for tea, the crowing roosters of the village, and yet she felt strange. The warning from the day before had continued to ring through her mind, and as she broke fast with the others, which was interrupted by a group of men and women armed with farmers tools, hoes and pitchforks and the like. They marched out the other four, but for Callira everything went simply black.

Calling on the spirits was no use. She was a prisoner now. All her life she had thanked the spirits, given them her trust, her love and warmth. And when she needed them the most, they had abandoned her. She did not even feel their comfort. She lay on the ground inside the white building, she recognized it from her previous lessons there. Every few moments she could hear the door opening, some fearful screaming and yells of triumph before the door was slammed shut. She closed her eyes and tried to look into her soul for comfort, crying tears of fear and desperation.
She felt someone kneel down near her. She opened her eyes and focused on the peasant face of the young girl she had met in the Chevelles marketplace, who was looking at her with concern in her eyes. "You!" Callira exclaimed, "what's happening?" She asked in Tainish.
"I do not know. I came here for your lesson today. And something evil is happening. They caught my father and I. They are calling us foreign apologists. Anyone who has attended your lessons is being brought in. Maybe you can offer some comfort to the others?" Callira sat up slowly, her eyes taking some time to bring all of the surroundings into focus. Her head pounded. She raised her had to her head and felt a painful swollen bump and some mangled damp hair. She had been struck on the head. She felt panicked as her ears registered the sounds she was hearing- the shouts from outside, crying and protesting from inside. The hammering in her head continued and she was tempted to close her eyes and lie back down. She finally brought her surroundings into focus and dinstinguished several figures nearby. A man sitting on the stone floor, his eyes and cheeks wet with running tears, as he kept his gaze on the girl, his mouth frozen open in surprise or sadness or maybe a mix of both. The girl remained with Callira, providing support on her back as she sat up. No other children were in the room. Another man knelt down, a scared, pitiful expression on his face. Callira wanted to console them all, but she couldn't. She neither knew how, nor what was happening, where she was. The linguist looked around and saw some familiar faces from her last lessons slumped around the room, with similarly fearful, despairing expressions. The door burst open, and two militia burst through the door, dragging one of the women outside. She screamed as they took her outside, although Callira could not catch what she was saying. Shortly afterwards, a roar came up from the crowd. A triumphant yell of victory. And the two false combattants returned inside and selected another victim to drag away. Another choral of screams protesting her departure from inside, mixed the bloodlust yelling of outside, both fading when the doors closed behind them. She felt a hand grasp hers, a quizzical expression on the girl's face.
"You are the foreigner, you must save us."
Callira slumped down, "it is not up to me," she said in a whisper, tears filling her eyes. Callira noticed other faces gathering around, expecting something of her, but she had nothing to give them. "Is there really nothing you can do?" The girl's father asked. He had honest features, the skin of a farmer. Callira's heart broke. "There is nothing I can do. It is up to the spirits now. Ask them. May they guide you well." She said, and began murmuring to herself.
"Maybe you can sing a song," Sophine said, "in your language." Others expressed their agreement in affirmative murmurs.
"I'm not sure that is a good idea," more tears fell from her eyes, "but I fear there is nothing else I can do." She cleared her throat, inhaled deeply and sang out in a clear, bright voice, the

When the militia entered next, they were surprised to see the foreign woman, stood at the front of the room, singing to the others who had gathered around, some even on their knees, as if in worship. When she saw them she stopped singing, her eyes flashing at them in anger and newfound confidence. She raised a hand to point at the two who had entered, and in a screeching voice, recited the Tainigh Sacred Creed, as if it were the spirits themselves speaking to them. The two stood petrified in fear, believing they were being cursed by a witch in the foreign tongue, and being peasants themselves, believed well in spiritualism. Filled with purpose and strength, she resumed her song as the two hurried back outside, this time without dragging anyone with them. The captives,encouraged, empowered by this response, some now standing, hummed along with Callira. When the doors banged open, the commander herself entered, striding in angrily, flanked by the other two who refused to make eye contact with the witch. Heads turned towards them, but not in fear this time. In defiance. Callira fixed her eyes on the commander, and continued with the song, raising her voice, the spirits were with her now, she thought. May they guide me well. She held the commander's state until she looked away first, and emitted an uneasy snigger.
"Observe the foreign fiend! Her voice may be beautiful, but do not be deceived! She is foreign poison, evil."
"Now where is the girl who speaks her tongue?" Callira realised she was asking for Sophine, the little linguist miracle who somehow knew Tainish. A pang in her chest when she saw Sophine's eyes widen in terror. Callira knew her purpose now, she stopped her singing and raised her arm again to point at the commander, whose guards cowered again, not wishing to be subjected to another hex, and not brave enough to disobey the commanders orders.
"She is under my spell, and she, and all the others, will only be released upon my death," she screeched out, in a voice that did not sound as she usually did, but not realizing she spoke in Tainish, this caused panic: more guards to burst into the hall with their makeshift weapons, dropping with the blood of the few that had been beaten. The captives resumed wailing in fear as Callira realised her error, repeating herself in Cassioni. Twice, but it was only on the third time, that the noise in the room dropped again, so that 'upon my death' seemed to echo in the hall and out into the square.
"You heard her ask for it!" The commander called out. Callira gave Sophine's shoulder a little squeeze as she strode forward. The meaning of her words did not sink in for a moment, but then Sophine realised what she was doing, having understood the first Tainish statement. She was admitting to being a witch to save the others. "I will curse you all!" she screamed out, and she continued her march towards the commander, eyes ablaze. "You will never be free of me as long as I live!" She picked up speed and raised her hands, she saw one of the guards raise her sword, dodging it as she jumped towards the commander, her hands aiming for her throat. The two women toppled to the ground, but the commander was former protectorate, with honed instincts.
The commander pushed Callira off of her. Now on her back, seeing Sophine's shocked, pained floating face, she looked down to see the knife out of her lower chest, as a dark numbness spread throughout her. "May the spirits guide you well" she tried to say, but only a gurgling sound came out as she hoped she had saved them all before everything went black.
***
Sophine resisted whimpering in the middle of the floor, knowing she had a role to play to ensure her safety and that of others. "I am freed!" She called out, "thank the Cassioni spirits for saving me! And all of us under her spell!" She threw herself at the feet of the commander, who had gotten to her feet and removed the knife from Callira's chest.
"Praise our saviour, the commander of the Golden Defenders!" Sophine's father called out, the other captives repeated his call.
To Sophine's absolute relief, she gave an order to release all the captives, and for the building to be set afire. The commander gave a speech in front of the burning building about this huge triumph of the Golden Defenders, and how they must continue their good work the next day, elsewhere.
Sophine looked on sadly as the flames of rumor and resentment licked up the sides of the hall, intended for no more than further education, burnt it to ash, and the linguist Callira Evarrlie, whose purpose had been the same, along with it. "We have much to learn," she muttered to herself.

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