30. Hershel

Chapter 30

Hershel

T wo other men and I stood at the edge of the square and watched the crowd disperse. We painted on smiles and nodded, but beneath our masks, we brooded.

“We can’t wait much longer,” I whispered. “If he keeps this up, the whole town’d defend him even if he tried to stab the Queen in front of them.”

“They’d say he was spreading his good works using a dagger,” an embittered butcher grunted in agreement.

“Tomorrow night. We finish this tomorrow night ,” I said.

The other men’s eyes locked on mine, then each man nodded once.

The butcher and wainwright turned and vanished into the night, leaving me glaring where Seth once stood. My stare could’ve burned the place down, if only I had the Gift of Fire.

The Order and its band of slicksters wanted the same things most men standing in the square wanted, attention and power. If I was any judge, I guessed the latter was far more important to the Priests and their prophet.

Their prophet.

The One.

What did he want?

Seth was laying the groundwork for his grand entrance to the Kingdom’s stage, but to what end?

I thought through everything that had happened over the past year as I wandered home, oblivious to the falling temperatures and deepening darkness. When I looked up to see thickening clouds obscuring the moon and stars, thoughts of winter’s last gasp pushed to the fore, and I knew the coming days would spread a blanket of snow over the town’s spring-filled dreams.

Nothing to do about it but dig out , I thought as I kicked a rock further down the path, thankful for the momentary distraction from the town’s troubles.

I loved this place.

I met Anabelle here, raised my son here, and planned to see my last sunset painted across the ocean’s shores here. There was no way some outsider would show up and tell me these people, my people, weren’t decent and good.

I couldn’t let that happen.

A chill gusted by and pimpled the skin on my arms. I laughed at myself when I realized, in my aimless wandering, I’d walked nearly a half league past the edge of town.

Time to go home. Anabelle’s waitin’ and’ll be madder than a hornet if I’m any later.

I kicked another rock and turned back to head home.

A couple strides later, something rumbled and roared from behind.

I turned and blinked a few times, unable to move.

A massive bear, fur dark as the night, towered over me. It roared and bared its teeth as a head-sized paw flew out of the darkness. Dagger-sharp claws ripped into my chest.

I staggered backward, eyes wide from shock and pain.

I tried to breathe, but fire bloomed and spread throughout my body.

The bear lumbered forward, its eyes never leaving its prey.

As another swipe descended, the one that could sever the arteries in my throat and snuff out my dreams of another sunset, a flicker passed through the bear’s eyes.

A recognition.

An almost human understanding.

Then the light of the moon and stars fled my eyes.