FIFTEEN WEEKS AFTER JUNE RESCUED OPAL
It was a working day like any other day. Kuroi woke up as sunlight entered her room, and it shined on her face.
I have to clean that window and curtain, Kuroi thought. The window was spotless just like everything else in the house, but Kuroi cleaned everything just the same.
She was under her covers contemplating whether to start her day early or stay in bed. But then she heard The Voice. It was neither her voice, nor a normal, soft voice. It said:
« Get up and go to work. »
Scared was a big understatement. Maybe there was an intruder in her house, but thieves went about their business under the cover of darkness, in the middle of the night. Now was early morning and her home was empty. She and the dog were the only residents of the old and humble home. She knew her dog was smart, but he couldn’t talk. At least, she knew he was not capable of vocalizing anything beyond ruff. She lifted her head from under the covers and started to look around.
« Get up and go to work, » was all The Voice said.
Today was her day off. Her aunt had told her to stay home and rest. After a few minutes, when her surprise and fear left her, she got up and went about her business. She was apprehensive and still shaken by the early morning wake-up call. But she rationalized it, deciding it was her imagination, and she went on with her day, trying to put aside the morning happenstance. She said her prayers, took a bath, broke her fast and fed the dog. After, she sat and gave some thought to the morning Voice’s message, she started questioning herself and why she should go to work.
But a nagging feeling that doesn’t want to go away made her take her bag and a basket full of her herbs and go to her aunt’s shop. She didn’t have to work—just go and visit her aunt. Kuroi was rested and happy, and it was a day like any other. She felt a quiet breeze, heard lovebirds chirping and enjoyed the peaceful morning as she walked along. She stopped at the bakery and, as usual, the loaf of bread was as expensive as the day before. Nothing was different really, so her apprehension continued to ease, but since she’d set out anyway, she continued on to the Springer Healer’s shop just to check on Clara.
“Kuroi, I thought I told you to stay home. Today was your day to rest.”
“Yes, Aunt Clara, but I just wanted to bring my promised herbs, and since I’m here, I’ll finish making the batch of the magenta dye. I’ll leave early.”
Kuroi had lied in a way. She didn’t want to say anything to Clara about the strange Voice that told her to go to work.
“I will hold you to that,” said Clara.
She finished the dyes and cleaned the workbench. Late in the morning, Tom Arrensen entered the shop. He was silent and reserved as usual, but today he looked out of sorts. Tom was usually very calm and polite, but today he appeared rushed. He asked for some tea leaves for his grandma’s joint pain. Tom’s granny loved the smell of the leaves, so Kuroi added a generous number of her herbs to the pouch and returned to the shop. She didn’t feel sad this could be stealing. The herb to help the joint pain grew like the weed all over her cliff and Kuroi had just filled Clara’s storage until it was overflowing. Plus, the extra amount she gave was the amount Kuroi had been planning to take back home, so really, she was giving her own portion.
Tom was his usual polite self to both of them. He told them of his upcoming journey: it was going to take three weeks on horseback for him to visit his grandmother who lived in Castleville, the large city to the south. He paid and left. Kuroi liked Tom. His job was fitting. Being a metalsmith required strength and patience. Tom had both. He was by far the tallest and strongest man in town. Many people in town said Tom was the male version of Kuroi. She was viewed as the simpleton woman and Tom the fool man. If they only knew of Kuroi’s true nature. Clara and Kuroi both thought it was always nice to see this man.
In the early afternoon, Kuroi walked to the edge of town to watch the town’s children playing in a nearby field. She decided to eat a sugary treat and enjoy the beautiful, clear day. When she finished eating, Kuroi saw the colors of the King’s Legion flailing through the mountains. The Legion had never passed through Springer before. The King’s Legion steered away from most towns. If they had to pass by a city, they always did it at night. However, the rule of the land said, if the Legion elect to travel through a village or town during the day, the inhabitants had to tie a child at the front door of each house and shop. If a house or shop didn’t have a child, the Legion soldiers could enter and take whatever they wanted or needed.
Despite the rarity of the event, here they came, over three thousand of the worst raiders and murderers. They were going to waltz through Springer in the middle of the day. The King’s Legion was returning from a campaign against the northern outlaws. The Northern King, King Eliem, of the Kingdom of Tilo, had asked Emperor Klastos for help and he’d paid a hefty sum to have the King’s Legion destroy a large town of the Koddy within the northern realm.
But now they were returning. The Legion was already marching down the mountain. Women were screaming and the town’s officials, teachers, sheriff and lawmen were giving instructions and shops were closing. Children were being tied to the doors with their eyes covered, so they could never see the faces of the killers. One child to each front door, both houses and shops alike. The Legion obeyed only the King. Regular citizens were told the Legion had no mercy for anyone, but the King’s Legion never touched blindfolded children. The Legion’s monsters were the perfect killing machines who traveled about the land at the King’s behest, but once they got to their castle, they would go into a deep sleep, awaking only to carry out the next set of King’s commands.
Kuroi ran back to her aunt’s shop like a crazy chicken. ‘Scared’ couldn’t begin to describe Kuroi’s feelings. They had no child to place at their shop door. Aunt Clara’s neighbor, one of the town’s traveling merchants, came into the shop and asked Clara for all the perfume she had in exchange to have one of his kids in front of her door. It was an extreme and excessive amount of perfume, but Clara knew the usurer neighbor of hers had the upper hand. As things currently stood, surviving the Legion would be a miracle. The Legion could smell adults and had the right to take anything they wanted, so Clara agreed to the deal
Clara’s shop cellar resembled the crypt of a mad herbalist. There were herbs stored in boxes and shelves, jars full of medicines and ingredients, small barrels of resins and plenty of bottles of wine. Kuroi could see a small space for one person to hide, but not enough for another person. In the neighboring merchant’s cellar, there was space for his entire family plus one more person. He offered Aunt Clara shelter for an extra fee of a box of scented candles. She reluctantly accepted, and she wanted Kuroi to hide with the merchant’s family. But the space in Clara’s cellar was only big enough for Kuroi. So, after some argument, Clara went to hide in the neighbor’s basement.
Kuroi secured things down. She placed ingredients in the cupboards, blew out all the candles and took her bag with her. In her bag, she had the small mortar and pestle her Pop Chaim had given her, a small loaf of bread, some cheese and water. She then went to hide in the cellar. As Kuroi closed the cellar door, she wanted to check and see about the girl outside the shop’s door, but the thunderous sound of the Legion made the shop rock. Every bottle started to jiggle from the footsteps, so Kuroi hid in fear.
The dark and cold herbal crypt cradled Kuroi. She could hear the sound of her heart—tum-tum, tum, tum-tum, tum—loud and fast, making her ears hurt. Her mind was racing, body cold, hands shaking … and then she thought of the roast she had left cooking in the oven.
I forgot to take the roast out of the oven. What if it starts a fire in the kitchen? The kitchen, a hundred murderers, walking by the town, a child tied outside the door, me in this small cellar. Forget the kitchen. What if they enter the shop? What if the girl gets scared, gets loose and runs? What if one of the brutes smells the roast and decides to enter the shop? What if they find me and decide to eat me instead? I’m going to die. These thoughts kept tumbling through Kuroi’s mind while she trembled in the cellar.
Fear found a comfy place in Kuroi’s mind. How could she survive the moment? Fear was a hell of a feeling. Fear had one purpose: to take away courage. Once the desire to fight was gone, fear could paralyze and kill. The thumping of a headache near Kuroi’s temples made her eyes hurt and made her aware of things she usually wouldn’t notice.
She saw stupid things, like a blue glass containing lavender which had a crack on its rim, the spiderweb forming on the side of the old wax candles and the broken ladle in the large cauldron. Kuroi’s mind was running wild in the small cellar.
Chills, trembling hands, funny smells, a spider! Ah! No screaming or they’ll find me! And then came the sound of thunder crashing on a hard glass window. The undercroft full of smelly spices became a cave of cold and scary thoughts. She remembered the night her parents died. She had been sleeping, but the earthquake had moved her dreams, the land and the house. She had awoken to the house shaking and the wood rattling to a scream and then silence.
That was five years earlier, and now she was even more scared than that night. Her hands were clammy and sweat fell down her back. It made her mouth dry. Her lips were stuck together, speechless. Kuroi always carried a handful of her cliff herbs in her pocket. She took a few leaves and smelled them.
That used to calm her, but this time it didn’t help. She put the herbs back in her pocket. She couldn’t stop shaking. She closed her eyes. She counted numbers backward from one hundred. With her fingers in her ears, she took a deep breath. Nothing helped to calm her. So, she prayed.
Kuroi’s prayer was for the Legion to move on, for the shop to be left alone, for her aunt’s safety, for herself to live past the moment. She prayed for the child to stay still in front of the shop and not run out.
Kuroi prayed for her body to stop shaking. She made all sorts of promises as the noise got louder and she heard footsteps above her. Why did I have to listen to that voice? Why did I come to work today? She prayed even harder. Noise ... BUM TUM. PUM .... Large, heavy footsteps above, crashing glass, broken chairs. The trapdoor opened, light shined in and Kuroi passed out.