Glass Winter | Chapter XXVI

Gar Darron pulled Sinner up by the scruff and pummelled his mouth shut. He might have killed the man were it not for Kyreth and Bair, pulling him back.

“Do you have a death wish?” Sevt’s raging breath fanned across his face, “Need I remind you of what will happen should this man die?”

There’s no guarantee.

But the chief was right to be afraid. Gar Darron pulled his arm away.

“Perhaps the burdens of your position are taking their toll? Should I assign another as my personal bodyguard. Someone who’s not a personal thug?”

“Forgive me.”

How could I have forgotten the mute?

“He’s one of the many who betrayed us—”

“I’m aware, Gar Darron.”

A glob of blood spat out from Sinner’s mouth as he turned to face them again with broken skin on his cheekbone.

“I ask your forgiveness, cripple, that I do. How was I to know that sustenance was a crime under your rule?”

“You will withhold any and all snark remarks when speaking to me. Sinner, was it?”

“An apt name, some claim.”

“A family name.”

“I have no other, so refer to me as you wish.”

Where did he come from?

With Sevt’s scouts surveying the valley’s edges, Sinner and any of his company must have been closely pursuing them for days, eluding their eyes and ears amongst the trees, preying like wild beasts.

“How have we not seen you? What was your plan after escaping the commune?”

“Well perhaps you’re as blind as you’re maimed, chief. And as for the escape, nobody wanted to remain in that slaughter. You’re a madman for choosing to.”

“He’s not going to give us what we want,” said Kyreth, “he’s a thief, and that’s the end of it. Probably been scrounging what he could before deciding to crawl back to us.”

“And hiding in the shadows,” said Sevt. “Why is that?”

Why not reunite with the survivors?

Because Sinner must not have expected their lot to survive, and neither did Eron. He must have fled with his scouts. He must have. It could not be coincidence.

“You spoke of a dead mute,” Sevt went on when the prisoner kept mum, “is it someone we knew?”

“Nobody you’d be privy to, but somebody this one pined to defend.” Sinner indicated to Gar Darron.

“He was the only possible witness to a murder on one of our scouting missions,” He explained to the chief.

“Made his impairment all the more fucking tragic.”

Gar Darron withheld from striking Sinner again. Sevt had tempered like steel since his ascension, able to silence a man with a single look, as he now silenced his bodyguard. His cold temperament had him keep to himself most days. Despite the silent vow Gar Darron took to protect the chief, he was asked more often that not to stay behind while Sevt disappeared into woods.

“I have a knife,” he claimed, “and twenty strong men a stone’s throw away. Nothing can harm me for long out here.”

But a man like Sevt would never call out to be saved. He would rather go down with the enemy. And if he did, they were lost.

“Go on then,” said Sinner. “You didn’t capture me just to stare.”

“Let us be reasonable,” said Bair, “we cannot afford to kill you, no matter how much some wish to see you dead. It’s either life or death for us, every day now. And you’re going to help amend that, with or without immense pain.”

“You can fuck yourself with your pain. I’ll tell you what you want to know. I don’t intend on becoming a plaything.”

“Bair would never act without my approval,” Sevt said, “but at least we’re making progress. I thank you for it.”

“Thank a tree and screw it. You think any of us want to be here any longer than we must?”

So you’re a coward. You’d turn your hide on Eron just to save it.

It had not been said yet, but already Gar Darron knew it to be the truth. It was more plausible that Sinner, and whomever else he was with, banded with Eron just to survive. And Sinner’s following remarks all but confirmed the belief.

“It’s every man for himself down here. I wouldn’t do what I do without good reason.”

“I can understand that, perhaps more than you’d care to acknowledge,” Sevt replied, “but you can tell your partner that the survivors need able men to reach to the glass castle. We have a much stronger chance of braving the landscape together, rather than by robbing each other.”

“Tell me, Sevt, why is it you think I was robbing you?”

The question hung in the air before a chief unimpressed by its asking.

“You’re not alone in this wilderness, chief, because that’s what it is. There’s not a morsel of sustenance to go around long enough for us to make it to the castle. I don’t know you, but unless you’re a fool you wouldn’t go around denying it.”

“You’re no authority on the matter. And I wouldn’t have you lying to my people about it…”

“And are you some authority? That’s real rich. None of us have a say on nothing down here.”

Kyreth and Bair were dragging him away.

“And which authority do you serve?” Gar Darron asked.

Sinner resisted his captors, “Who do I ‘serve’? I serve your mother’s p—”

“You’re with Eron. You and who else; Reyansh, Dhruv? He sent two of you after our rations.”

“Aye he did. Don’t matter now. It’s him that will starve before you, or after if he’s as light-footed as me.”

“Stop.” Sevt raised a hand so that Kyreth and Bair released Sinner.

The chief tottered over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Sinner did not meet his gaze.

“Listen to me. Listen very carefully. What you say next will determine how you spend the remaining days between this valley and the glass castle.”

“You’re going to tell me that Eron’s a criminal,” Sinner looked at Sevt. “That I’m obligated to tell you what I know to enact justice on the man. That humours me.”

“Am I amusing you?”

“I find your virtue amusing.” Sinner bared his bloodied teeth, “There ain’t none down here. Did your bodyguard teach you that yet?”

Sevt shoved the prisoner’s shoulder, making him stumble into Bair’s arms.

“Put him with the others. Their words can poison each other.”

“I wonder, chief, what this addition will cost us?” Bair spun Sinner around and gripped him by his shoulders, “All the prisoners are costing us.”

“He’s one man. We have four others. He won’t be a costly addition.”

“Four others whom we feed and watch over. Five men bound and at a fair distance from the camp. We leave the survivors exposed whenever a sentry is sent to check on the prisoners.”

Each exchange raised the next speaker’s voice. Those closest to the scene and the bonfire listened with disconcertion.

“What are you suggesting, Bair?”

“I do not know what to suggest. But something needs to be done. And with deserters like Sinner running around, others may yet return for him. Perhaps for the rest too.”

“Is this how you handle your politics? Hardly an improvement…” Sinner muttered.

“Is Eron interested in spilling blood?” Sevt asked him.

“He could be, should it serve his interests.” Gar Darron said.

To no response.

Gar Darron shrugged, “He’s spilled blood before. The less of us that stand between him and the glass castle, the better off he will be. And I would not trust another word from this one’s lips.”

“To think we were a powerful squad once,” Sinner tutted. “Now you’re raising scarecrows and knocking them down.”

“Have we reason to trust Eron otherwise?” Gar Darron raised his hands, “He pays for his betrayal in kind: with no mercy.”

The single eye that remained in Sinner’s skull quivered at the statement, and the brow frowned above, though his mouth did not respond.

He fails to recognise me. As does the chief.

“Order your men to bring the prisoners closer to the clearing, Bair,” commanded the chief, “but just out of sight and earshot. The survivors don’t need to see them, nor listen to any filth they might conjure up.”

Sevt cast a dark glance at Sinner before limping away from the bonfire. Gar Darron pursued him, as did Kyreth.

“How fair your gatherers?” Sevt asked her.

“We scavenge what we can,” she pulled pale blue lichen out of a satchel and showed it to him, “it’ll keep us alive. But I doubt…”

Sevt nodded but did not say a word.

She doubts whether it can sustain us.

“How much have you found?”

“Not enough.”

“Well. Keep at it, Kyreth.”

And she was off.

“Tell me more about this mute, Gar Darron.”

They had reached the forest, rising above them as grey pillars shawled in snow. To the right of them Gar Darron saw Bair guiding Sinner, a length of rope strung over his shoulder. The woods swallowed them up, where the dancing lights could not reach.

“There’s not much more to say, chief.”

“Again, just call me Sevt. We’re close now, aren’t we?”

He leaned his staff against the trunk of a great larch tree, proceeding to peel its bark with his dirk.

“I saved your life. I believe we are.”

“Because you saw a leader in me. At least in that moment.”

Yes. In that moment. We needed a sound mind to preserve us.

“The mute did not have a name,” Gar Darron explained, “though Eron once noted his sinuous build. I referred to him as Sinew from that moment on.”

Sevt made what sounded like a scoff while he dug into the bark, prizing the stubborn surface with rough jerks and the full strength of his arm.

“I have every reason to believe he was innocent,” Gar Darron went on, “besides hard proof. I only know that in darkness Drummond approached me. If he had stumbled upon me or knew where I was, I can now never say. Sinew claimed, as much as a mute can, that he had defended me from an armed Drummond. He was going to testify before…”

Sevt chuckled, “Forgive my reaction to the macabre. He sounds like an honest man. One I would have trusted to watch my back.”

He broke off the peeling, sheathed his dirk, sunk in his teeth and tore off a piece.

“Drummond was missing the day we were supposed to head out…” Gar Darron continued.

He was offered a part of the bark by Sevt but declined.

“…along with Eron.”

That piqued the chief’s interest, “Go on.”

He will think me a fool. More than I’ve already proven.

“There’s no proof of it either, but I’ve long suspected the two of them conspired to kill me.”

Sevt tore into the bark once more, answering with a full mouth, “To what end?”

He sees a dullard.

“I cannot say.”

But it was too clean to look over, too perfect a sequence of circumstances to ignore.

“Perhaps Sinew was the initial conspirator. Eron had already known of his muteness when they met, but deemed him scrawny. Perhaps he knew that he wouldn’t talk…”

“Just his luck that Sinew was of a noble character, and foiled his plans with Drummond.” Sevt patted the tree trunk and picked up his staff, “What motive could a man like Eron have? You said he was a scout.”

“A prized one at that.”

“And did he accompany you on the day of your departure?”

“No. Drummond appeared, but Eron remained at large until our return. He was not pleased when Sowne commissioned an expedition back into the caves of the Mountain Wall. Eron had just returned with information on the highlands we’re passing through now, with the belief that the lights could be sighted from them if the effort was made. He could have stayed behind in an act of protest.”

Sevt switched hands with the bark and placed a free one on Gar Darron’s shoulder, “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing, sir. You wished to know more of the mute.”

“If it helped our case with this Sinner and his accomplices.” Sevt sighed, his eyes wandered, “Look up there. Up there…”

Gar Darron looked up at the forest canopy, a great yawning shadow perforated with lights that shrunk and expanded with the wind, making the branches strain and creak. They listened.

“We’ve seen the worst of man realised at the commune, and we’ve seen our hopes rekindled by the dancing lights. Many of us hadn’t seen them for how long was it?”

Gar Darron could not remember when they had abandoned the hamlet. The realisation aged him, and he was not an old man.

“For too long.”

“The ghosts of that massacre are haunting us still. Some of us who refuse to let go.” Sevt’s hand squeezed the scout’s shoulder, “Some of us have proven that goodness still resides within the black hearts of every sinner condemned to this place. And now the chance at redemption is within our reach. We’re not going to squander that, are we, Gar Darron?”

He had forgotten that the grip of a cripple could be just as a strong as a blessed man. There was an edge to the chief’s voice that Gar Darron had never heard before.

“Justice is not ours to enact,” said Sevt, “perhaps it’s why we’re down here in the first place. I need you to remember who it is I serve; not myself, and not you, but all of us. If there is truth in your words, it will be rooted out. This place always does. Trust in it.”

~~~~~

“What have you got for me…?” Sevt lost his voice to the need for air, cresting the valley’s ridge.

It was the last one of its kind. Gullies carved through the frosted hills that sprawled before them like cool blue veins against a pale stretch of skin, ribboned with ice.

“You were not expected to join us, chief,” Lassiter was here, per Sevt’s command. “We could have brought the report down to you.”

I cannot show weakness.

“Hope still kindles our spirits, Lassiter. Who would I be to lead us if a part of my judgement did not rely on what I saw?”

Ojarow, a straight-nosed man in his middle years with sharp eyes and a crinkly voice, nodded at the vista, “We were just discussing how we should map this out. Whatever rivers flowed through here in ancient times might care for dead ends but not exits.”

“That you’re right, Ojarow.” Sevt climbed up to stand by his side and survey the landscape. The mountaintop gales slammed against him

Merely following the lights, or the Guidance as some survivors coined them, was no longer an option. Making their way down a single gully could cost them days if it snaked away from the glass castle but never returned. And sooner or later they would need to scale its slopes to pass into the neighbouring canyon, a day’s price to pay as well.

“Which path have you settled on? Should be one we can pass through the longest without clambering out of.”

“It’s a maze down there by the looks of things… but given our north-eastern heading… I’d say we follow this one…”

He pointed directly down, to a ravine going north-west.

“Follow it for those six miles before it breaks off to the left, then we come back down the shouldering pass and turn right, see there? That last one appears to head north without veering. We can keep at it until circumstances change.”

“Which beg foresight.” Sevt turned to Lassiter, still at a loss as to his place there.

And for good reason.

“You’ve done us a good service, Ojarow. You’re relieved of your scouting duties; you’ve earned the rest. Ewald and Lassiter will be riding ahead in the dog sled, and reporting to me at the end of each day.”

Lassiter smiled without his eyes.

“Am I being punished?”

“Maybe you are. Maybe I’m just being prudent.”

“Hey. I harbour no qualms about lashing out at Havel. Why not punish the both of us? That would be wiser.”

This prick.

“From what I’ve heard, per the men around Bair, you have a history of ‘lashing out’ on assumption alone. Food and information are our currency now, and I will not spend the latter when it is in short supply.”

Lassiter sighed, shaking his head, but he did not protest.

“In the meantime,” Sevt turned back to view, “if what Sinner says is true, we wait for Eron. Not many places him and his men can go down there.”

“You’re just going to let Eron go?”

It was a child’s voice. Sevt turned to see Aurora, stomping past the scouts.

Sinner’s words spread fast.

“What am I doing up here, Aurora, if not finding a way to lure him out?”

“You don’t really believe that he’ll fall for whatever trap you prepare?”

“Hey. Where is this coming from?”

“He killed Quin! And you’re prepared to just to let him go!”

Sevt expected Olga to clamber over the ridgeline and drag Aurora away, but nobody surfaced. The caretaker was in her first term of pregnancy and could handle the ascent, which meant that she either allowed Aurora to leave her side or was careless in her supervision.

“You need to remember your place, girl,” said Sevt. “We’re doing everything we can to keep you and the others alive. If it means we don’t squander resources chasing down one man, no matter his crimes, then we don’t chase him down.”

“We may be in Hell, but a man like Eron cannot walk away without consequence.”

“Listen,” Sevt hobbled over. “Before Quin passed, he made me keep a promise to protect and help you reach the glass castle. He told me that you have the potential to create great change. That shouldn’t be squandered…”

You can make a commune dance, but you’re not yet a leader.

“…but until then you need to trust that I and my scouts will see the survivors through.”

“So my word does not matter.”

It was like his words were made of glass. Aurora gazed out at the winding gullies in silent contemplation. Nobody gathered there spoke but for the winds.

“Aurora. What is it?”

“I just want to help…,” her voice trembled.

“Go on, now. Use your words.”

“None of this would have happened if I hadn’t wanted to hurt Wilbur, if I hadn’t told Bair what I heard…. His men would have never attacked those loyal to Sowne, and the slaughter that followed days later might not have happened…”

Her voice was spidery soft, but even so the scouts exchanged mocking jests based on her words. Lassiter stood separate from them and quietly.

“Do Bair and his men know something I don’t? Tell me, Aurora. It may be important.”

“I do not know. Eron claimed to be hunting a demon that killed Quin, and he returned to the commune to enlighten Sowne. And I told Bair. And his followers got into a fight with the former chief’s…”

“Alright.”

Sevt placed a hand on her shoulder, Aurora hugged him back.

“Don’t cry,” he said in a lowered voice, “if you hope to lead one day you cannot display fear in the face of your troubles.”

“Can I cry when I’m on my own, at least?”

Sevt held on a moment longer before letting go, but Aurora kept her arms around him.

I’m not a father to comfort you.

And yet he was. Faith was holding a boy in her arms…

“Go back to Olga. She’ll be looking for you.”

“What am I supposed to do…?”

“Nothing. Sowne and Eron were at fault, not you, and not Bair. Go, Aurora.”

She wiped her eyes with her sleeve before departing.

She had just descended over the ridge when Lassiter said, “Should we listen to the little girl, chief? Should we ‘squander’ our strength chasing down traitors?”

He thinks I’m sending him out to find Eron. He wants me to.

“We stick to the plan,” Sevt turned back to study the gullies. “Anyone that diverts from it will answer to me.”

“Are we going to have trouble, you and I?”

Perhaps.

If Aurora’s claim was true, however misguided a child’s understanding of conflict could be, Lassiter, Bair, the whole lot of them were partly responsible for the death they had all endured.

“I’m not Malcolm,” Sevt limped over to Lassiter, “and I’m not Sowne. But I’ve learned what’s best from the both of them. Are you displeased with my command?”

“I’m confused is all. Eron is a threat. The girl recognises it, Sinner mentioned—”

“Sinner is a thug and a turncoat. Do his words take precedence over mine?”

“Even thugs can speak truths. Don’t ask me to seek absolution for questioning your judgement.”

“I would advise you to.”

Sevt was about to walk away before his arm was held back.

“Do you think I harbour a want for violence, chief?”

“Lassiter, let go of his arm.” Ojarow readied his dirk.

Sevt raised a hand.

“I lost a daughter to the slaughter,” Lassiter continued, “not unlike Aurora, except for the sloughflesh. She died of her wounds a few days ago, when the commune was far behind us. But you wouldn’t know.”

The quiet girl. The only child besides Wilbur and Aurora to survive had been Lassiter’s? Olga had told the chief that the father was dead.

“Forgive me,” said Sevt. “I truly did not know.”

“Sowne’s and Eron’s thugs killed the cursed denizens as soon as they could. I thought I was cursed when her mother gave birth at the hamlet. What could a child born in Hell ever hope to achieve? I didn’t understand the laws of this place. For all I knew, God would claim her soul when she passed through the glass castle. I might not have even remembered fathering a daughter. But none of that matters now.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sevt clasped the hand that was holding his arm. He clasped it hard, “But I should warn you. My command will not be disobeyed. Such brash loyalty has cost us enough. You’re a smart enough man to understand this.”

“I’m also smart enough to realise that this Hell is all that some of us have left now.” Lassiter’s grip tightened, “And you serve the people now, don’t you? So serve.”

Sevt’s arm was released, and the other man stepped back. Ojarow sheathed his weapon.

“I’ll take the huskies,” said Lassiter, “but I can’t promise to not seek out justice. Eron withheld information regarding demons and it cost us. What further damage do you think he’s capable of if left unchecked?”

~~~~~

“Sowne and Eron were at fault, not you…”

How many of them could not take the blame and be in the wrong?

Sevt distanced himself from the departing survivors, some still awaking, others already packed and ready to trudge through snow and darkness yet again. They must need travel far that day; Sevt hoped they could reach the juncture Ojarow identified from the valley’s edge before laying their heads down.

A boon to be sure. The chief had not caught a decent sleep for days.

How do some of these people rest?

Some had been murderers in their past lives, other traitors, rapists, heathens, and they all remembered just enough to convict them. And still, they rested soundly each night. The notion itself kept Sevt awake. He had to remind himself of his own nebulous past when the thoughts weighed heavy on his conscience, a past he would not dare to assume, one clouded by the judgement of demons and of his own. An overpowering miasma that drew its strength from his helplessness. One he was required to oust if he hoped to retain any semblance of reason.

I’m the one who’s clear of mind, after all.

Rumbling storm clouds prevented much of the Guidance from lighting his way. Sevt leaned against the trunk of a white spruce while he opened the lantern in his staff. To his relief, its glow could still turn darkness into day, though not as strongly as when it was presented by Gar Darron at the commune.

Sevt had evaded him today with success, ordering instead to assist the foresters in hauling a new sled laden with timber.

A good man, but troubled, not unlike Bair.

The name soured with every mention.

Sevt pushed off and wandered deeper into the woods. Shadows trembled before the lantern’s red light, slithering just out of sight when he approached and falling back into his wake.

Sevt placed himself in the commune, outside of Sowne’s shelter, listening in on Eron’s account of the occult and his pursuit of the enemy, it gave few reasons to believe alternative interpretations. And with Gar Darron’s mulling over his comrades’ murders, it all seemed too clean of a coincidence.

Was there really a demon?

Sevt would never know. He did not even know if the shivering shadows around him were demons. He did not know if he wanted justice or not. What did it say about his character to wish for murder after failing as a commander in his mortal life, and being punished for it?

We are all capable of great evil. It’s not out of the ordinary to assume…

Sevt had reached a clearing, buried in a foot depth of snow. The air was clearer here.

Eron had been dissatisfied with Sowne’s command, and had responded with defiance. Not unlike Lassiter.

It was safe to assume that Drummond had shared this discontent. And it just so happened that the new expedition returned nine of the commune’s men to the ringwoodite sea, with its revenant spirits, where Gar Darron claimed caves were to be found.

Did Eron stage Quin’s murder as he had staged his hunt for the demonic? If Gar Darron had fallen to Drummond, would it have been said that he had fallen to a demon instead?

“It cannot be.”

He no longer felt alone in those woods. A garish grin lurked somewhere out in the darkness, growing wider and brighter at Sevt’s realisation. He shook the thought away.

Sevt heard the snap of dead branches.

He turned to face the sound. No woodland creatures lurked in these forests.

A shadow darker than the rest emerged from behind a tree, staying out of the light. It was tall and slender, and wielding a rock.

“Who goes there?” Sevt tossed his staff aside and unsheathed his dirk, hobbling backwards with the crutch.

The stranger skirted around the light, one ginger step after another.

“Come out so I can see your face…”

I don’t intend to die, but…

“…I prefer we were both men in handling this altercation.”

“You do love your words.”

The stranger stepped into the light of the stars and the Guidance, sinking into the glowing snow. It was Sinner, his wrists chafed but unbound.

Sevt tightened his grip on the dirk, “How did you free yourself?”

“Afraid are we? Then we can come to an agreement to prevent either one from getting hurt.”

“You’d lose.”

“Killing cripples is no different from old men. And I’ve killed old men.”

Sevt’s crutch reached the edge of the clearing, sliding against rocks not unlike the one wielded by Sinner.

“You want food, don’t you?”

“Took you a while.”

“I’ll allow you to stay. Not as a prisoner, but as one of our own. You don’t give off the impression of a man who answers to men like Eron, and you aren’t expected to.”

“Don’t even try it, chief. I don’t need to like Eron. Four pairs of hands are better than one for reaching the glass castle, but fifty pairs are too many. A man must be realistic.”

“Then let us negotiate,” Sevt watched Sinner halt his approach. “I’ll allow you to inspect our rations and give me a number.”

“It won’t be enough. You know that.”

“I also know that even one more loss of human life can spell doom for the rest of us. We saw what happened at the commune. Blood pays the price of life down here, and the fewer of us who starve the better chance we have at escaping together.”

“One man’s blood isn’t enough to summon that beast again. Don’t think me a simpleton, chief.”

Sinner resumed his approach. Sevt glanced over his shoulder quickly enough to find solid ground for his crutch, positioning himself at an angle to the foe. A fight with the support would be short-lived; he would have a better chance lunging at Sinner and fighting him on the forest ground, not dissimilar to the attackers he faced at the commune.

God, if you’re real, you’ve done me a great disservice by taking my leg.

“What’s your plan once I’m dead?” Sevt blurted out, without forethought.

No doubt Sinner would have responded with a snide remark, but the question stopped him long enough for a rock to strike his head, zipping out from the trees. As the scout collapsed in the snow, scrambling to recover, and as Sevt searched the tree line a sunken Sowne sprang out of the darkness and at Sinner, wrenching the man’s own rock from his hands and bloodying his face. Sinner returned a hit to the former chief’s kidney, before his arm was swatted away, the hand crushed, and the face pulped some more.

The impacts peppered Sowne’s silver hair and skin, the snow surrounding the fracas. Sevt let it happen, sinking down and leaning against a tree trunk, catching his breath.

Soon enough the squelches and crunches ceased, and Sinner’s head was no more. Silence fell over the clearing. Sevt had only now noticed the light snowfall.

“Primal.” Sowne stepped onto and off Sinner’s body, wiping his face with a crimson hand before giving it a flick.

He had lost his matted cloak, though Sevt suspected he had removed it for better manoeuvring. Sowne’s dark eyes watched him while panting for air, and keeping their distance. Sevt lowered his dirk.

“I trust this is proof enough of what you face, Sevt,” said Sowne, jerking a finger at the gore that was once Sinner, “and of my worth.”