[Arestevana]

Kirima

The days had grown short, and the sun was low in the sky when they reached Bree. Kirima felt a sudden helpless fear when she saw the gates of the town, closed and barred against them. For a moment she faltered in her charge of guiding one of the small carts, but then she turned back to the task, trying to allay her misgivings. Surely the townsfolk would let them in, would help them…

When the carts were pulled up to the gates, Kirima left her place next to them to see if she could help those inside. She clambered up into the bed of the nearest cart and spent a moment talking to some of the mothers who had ridden with the injured children, asking how the trip had been. Then she moved on to assist a woman with two sick children, feeling as if all she could do was to reassure the mother that there would soon be help.

She could hear shouts from the other side of the wall, but purposefully ignored them, until she heard someone yell her name. Kirima looked around, not recognizing the voice, and saw Andreth calling. She jumped down from the cart and hurried over, wondering what had come up. Andreth told Kirima that the mayor wanted her to come in and speak for Lotar. Kirima nodded and followed her toward the gate. As they walked, she noticed Minastan talking quietly to a Breelander who was about half his height. The sound of their voices together triggered something in her memory, but before she could recall it, they had reached the gate, and Andreth was ushering her inside.

A group of townsfolk were clustered near the gate, and Kirima watched them nervously, realizing that many had weapons. She heard someone bar the gate behind her and felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Surely the breefolk would not do this, not now, she told herself desperately. They had dared to hope, were they now to pay the price? She risked a hesitant glance at Andreth. She felt slightly calmer as the other woman stepped up beside her and turned to the other Breefolk, quickly but politely introducing them all.

After the introductions were complete, the man Andreth had said was the mayor turned briskly to Kirima. “Now,” he said. “Mistress Woolthistle tells me you can speak for your leader, Lotar. What would he have me do?”

Said Kirima, hesitantly, “I can not tell you for certain what Lotar would say, but I know that he does not this war. None of us do! We, all of us, have been ravaged by it; our kinsfolk are murdered, and those who live starve beside us. What desire have we to see more bloodshed? Our leader is an honest man, he will treat fairly with you.”

The mayor looked at her uncertainly. “I have been told this man, Lotar, was well respected in his village, and now he leads these others. Can he not see the circumstances I am faced with, as mayor of this town? How can I let a group of—of bandits into this city with no thought for it’s people?”

“Bandits?” Kirima cried. “A group of women and children! Injured and sick, every one of them! Unarmed, they stand within bowshot of your walls! The mothers who have brought their infant children to your gates; they are not blind—they can see the archers upon the walls, and they know their peril! How can you turn them away?”

Again the mayor spoke. “No sane person would do such a thing without reason.” He said, shaking his head. “How do we know it is not a trap? Your warriors could be hiding nearby or amongst those outside.”

Kirima answered softly, her voice sad. “You cannot know, you can only trust us. When you say without reason though, you are wrong. Do you not realize that without your help, half of the children outside will die before morning? Within a week—″ She broke off, fighting irritably to swallow a painful lump in her throat.

The mayor looked very uncomfortable, but again he shook his head as he spoke. “Do not think we are heartless to turn you away, but we have seen evidence of your willingness to attack us when you raided the outlying farms. How can you expect us to trust you so easily when we have cause to fear you?”

“Trust we need, but it is not what I ask for.” Kirima replied. “I am asking for help. You bade me speak for Lotar, and with his voice I asked for peace. Our willingness to attack, you say, you have seen. Winter is coming; if we do not fight, we will die. But it is not for ourselves that we fight—we fight for each other.” She frowned thoughtfully and looked at the mayor. “Is there not someone for whom you would steal rather than see them starve?”

For a moment the mayor looked pensive, and Kirima knew he was pondering her question. Then he looked up and began stiffly, “Be that as it may—″ He was cut off by a voice from the wall top. One of those guarding above called down to the mayor. “Sir! Berilac is returning. The gate—″ The mayor signaled for the gate to be opened and turned curtly to Kirima. “Please excuse me, miss, but I must end this discussion for a time.”

Kirima nodded silently, but the mayor had already turned away. They haven’t turned us away yet, there is still hope. she thought. But they have not helped us either, and before long it will be too late for many. She could hear a child crying beyond the town’s walls, and for a few moments her mind drifted absently. I should not have come; I should have stayed with widow Marish, she’ll need comforting when—if Gilly dies… Kirima shook her head to clear it. Gilly was not going to die; she let her mind wander too often. She glanced up as the gate was opened to admit someone, and wondered what would happen. Would that gate be opened again to admit the other refugees, or would they be turned away?