Tukufu and the Red Frescos

PART VI

As far as the drama and violence went, there wasn’t much more to say. Out of the pressures of combat I used transmutation magic to refresh my body and heal my wounded arm. Two of the Chauni goons were still alive so I tied them up. The bodies I gathered under the compluvium. The Sarishian’s head was a gory mess and I found myself regretting that I had learned his name. It made him more real to me and I wondered if anyone would miss him.

These ruins had existed for centuries without being occupied by shades. I wanted things to continue that way. So I said words over the fallen and resolved to have them buried the next day. I also went outside, in case there was anyone else I needed to deal with. I found six more hobbled horses. The math worked out right. No more surprises.

Sachya.

I didn’t know what to do with Sachya. She was incapacitated and clearly dying. I think I pierced one of her lungs and her breathing sounded horrible. In most of the plays I had seen or read people either died instantly or crawled across a wilderness to find help and safety – and perhaps revenge in act three. After the Crusade and Tultipet I knew better. Still part of me insanely wanted to throw her over a horse and somehow get her to a priest or healer in time to save her. Another angry part of me wanted to plant my boot on her throat. I didn’t do either.

I made a pillow out of my buff coat and produced a thin blanket out of my backpack. I did what I could to make her comfortable. Then I made a small fire in the room and brewed some tea. I waited silently for her end to come.

Or at least I meant to. But I couldn’t get over the fact she betrayed me. My Dad’s former squire. Sachya…my friend. That was offensive! I moved over and started going through her belt pouches. I wanted to find an incriminating letter. Or something. Anything that would explain this. There just wasn’t a huge list of people who wanted me dead. My best guess was that somehow I had angered the Jial of the Phoenix. Assassination and betrayal sort of fell into their bailiwick. But I didn’t know what I had done, or what they could have offered Sachya.

My rummaging must have brought her back around. “Tukufu.” It was a breathy whisper.

“Save your breath.”

“I’m sorry.”

I think I grunted. Did I want to hear that? Or was it better to let things lie. It was a little late for apologies. I didn’t say anything. But in that seemingly endless moment I was sorry too. If Dad’s spirit could see us, it must have been appalled by what had happened.

“She still hates you. You’re too visible to ignore.” She started coughing real blood at that point. She couldn’t even whisper. But her left hand drew a circle in the dust. Then an “H.” No, not a circle, an “O.” I got it almost immediately. Odile. My father’s first wife. I could also guess the H. Odile bore two children with my father. My half-brother was named Gunther. And my half-sister Henrietta. I’d never met Odile or Henrietta. I had met Gunther once during the Crusade in a tense encounter.

At least that makes sense. They have rights to your allegiance too.

I met Sachya eyes. They were still lucid. I nodded and unbidden the words came, “I understand.” That was as close as I could come to saying sorry or accepting her apology. I don’t know if she understood the double meaning.

She finally passed not long after that.
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Half a day there. Spend the night. Ride back the next day. Budget an extra day for the unexpected. Check.

I did not exactly sleep well with the two captives but we got through the night. Next dawn I had them load the bodies onto horses. I could probably dig four graves in one day but I sure didn’t want to. I gave Baldy and his buddy their mounts back and a strong suggestion that I never see them again. They had the nerve to ask for their weapons. Chauni!

I rode for Broken Arch and hired laborers to help dig. But Sachya’s I did myself. I had to tell the villagers something, so I said my friend had met me outside of town by some ruins. And that there had been a fight with bandits. That was technically true. They spat in the dust and agreed that bandits crawled the land like fleas on a dog. It took several hours for us to do it right. When we were done I talked to a guy who was a halfway decent mason. We dickered over the cost of and design of Sachya’s headstone. It got late in the day before everything was done. Broken Arch didn’t have an inn, but someone’s widowed grandmother offered me a room for the night and a lentil stew. I found both offers welcome.
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Next morning, just after the sun rose, I went home to my wife.

Yay Tukufu! Now I can say I’ve seen someone cast subtely

Great story, really enjoyed it.

That was damn good as solo adventures go.

Has a very effective intimate feeling both from the narration and from Tukufu’s eye for catching small details.

The history as Sachya was interesting as well. Tukufu was born a marked man; I wouldn’t have guessed. Also intriguing to see Odile in a rare role: a Milandesian playing dirty.

Good stuff, a strong effort.