The Tale Teller

Ch 31

 Vaun had spent much of his life sitting in wait. He would often watch as the stars faded and the sun rose, a chant upon his tongue that prayed for the heat it would bring to warm his chilled bones. He would wait for the food to keep his stomach full for another day, or for the inns and taverns to hush to hear his stories. He had never waited for a battle though, and it felt like the longest wait he had ever been forced to endure.

It didn't take long for the guards to march halfway up the hill, but the time felt like days as the village had stilled, hunched down behind walls and boulders in wait. Feet had sounded, matched by a quiet so still that Vaun feared to blink should the team around him disappear as though they were nothing but a dream.

By then the children who had helped gather stones had been ushered into their homes with the task of caring for their younger siblings and keeping them from rushing out the door in search of missing parents. From between the gaps in drawn curtains, Vaun could see the little faces peeking out into the night. They had been ordered to keep the fires low and all candles snuffed, but with noses pushed to glass, there was no need for silhouettes to be backlighted. It was clear they wished to fight as much as their parents, it was bred into them, but it was for the best that they stayed where safe. These children were the village of tomorrow after all.

The time passed until the guards marching boots became as common a sound as the birds in the trees upon a summers day. The villagers were growing restless, shuffling from one hip to the other, or rubbing at knees already pained from kneeling on them. The children were gone from the windows, weary from their lack of sleep and patience. Vaun could only pray their parents had more willpower to stay strong. As a few grumbles grew though, Vaun couldn't be sure.

It was only a few minutes more before a man who stood a full head and shoulders above Branoff scurried into position by one of the boulders. All eyes watched him as he peeked over the stone to the approaching guards below. They were surely close enough by now to take some sort of action, and with a hand signal from the man, it seemed they were.

First, a flurry of small stones was skimmed down the hill like pebbles across the lake. A still silence followed it. In the dark the guards shouldn't see them approaching, nor know if they were human-thrown or cascaded by the mountain itself. Either way, it would make the already tough path even more difficult to climb, putting the merchant's guards into the perfect position for the villagers.

More small stones followed a few minutes later, along with a single bucket of a liquidy substance Vaun couldn't decipher from where he crouched. He had been sitting here for what felt like the entire night. His knees were stiff, and he feared should he stand he may fall over. Gripping the bow tight, all he could do was pray he could do his best when the time came to play his part.

That time came all too soon. The marching feet grew louder and louder, as did the frequency of the stones tossed down towards them. With every handful the noise faltered, falling out of the uniformed beat before picking up again. The first boulder came soon after, met with the first true noise to enter the night. Vaun swore the people of Clearwater could hear the cries as clear as he.

The marches both paused and quickened at that, a clear sign of the close-knit group falling apart as each man went his own way. Some wanted to rush ahead and fight, whilst others either held back with a desire to run away or stop to help whoever was wounded. Vaun wasn't sure which mindset he prefered. He had never been in a situation like this, but the villagers around him had enough bloodlust to cover his back now that his own was beginning to fade as the reality hit him.

Vaun had never killed before, but with this bow in his hand and the arrows on his back, he knew deep down he wanted to take the light from another's eyes more than anything. It was a darkness he didn't fully want to admit, but it was too strong to deny.