Courted Sanctuary

Chapter 23

  Contrary to what Sieglinde had hoped, Adalbern and the others had not returned by first light. He had taken Ivo, Kuno, Fabian, and Gebbert, her grandfather, with him. She found herself praying to the Goddess that they would return unseen. In her moments of anger, she had shunned Her. In her current depression, she could not help begging and praying for Her return.

  When the light was still flat and the sun had yet to rise over the horizon, she stepped out of the manor and looked up to the sky. A wisp of cloud stretched and coiled in the winds above her. It was the only interruption in the blue expanse. She looked in the direction of Humbert's shack. She wanted to see if he had improved but Adalbern had been right. Her love of Humbert had clouded her judgement. She was not simply Sieglinde any longer. She was the lone High Priestess of the Mintharchs.

  With Adalbern on his mission, she decided she should receive the sentries' reports before ensuring the days chores were being tended. As she walked down the manor steps, the horn blew. She broke into a run. As she neared the gate, something large and round flew over the wall and bounced in one of their emergency gardens.

  The horn blew again but she changed course for the thing that had fallen. Kaspar was approaching it as well but from the opposite side. He reached it before her. His eyes went wide and his mouth slackened for only a moment before he remembered she too was approaching.

  "Stop," he yelled to her. "You must not have this in your memory."

  The horn blew again.

  "What is it?" she asked, her heart growing heavy and cold in her chest as her suspicions mounted.

  He said nothing.

  "What is it?" she demanded.

  As if to confirm her suspicions, tears fell from his eyes as he knelt down next to the thing. She knew what she would find if she approached but she also knew how important it was for her to do so. She walked up next to him just as he lifted Adalbern's head into his arms.

  The horn blew again.

  Though she had feared it, though she had always known it would be possible, she was delusional to think she could ever be prepared for seeing her friend mutilated. She choked on her grief. Tears fell without restraint. Her audible cries as much a siren to those who were approaching as the horn itself. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around his head. Her father let her take it.

  She cradled it and looked into the still open eyes, frozen in the terror of his last moments. Patches on his skin were charred. The rest was covered in soot. She could still smell burnt rye upon him. She pulled his head into the protection of her body, curling around it as she trembled. Her fingers shook so violently she worried she would drop him. Her father's arms wrapped around her shoulders and he held her close.

  The horn blew again.

  "They are coming!" Florian shouted from the wall.

  Did they have no decency at all? One of the greatest men she had ever known was dead. He deserved a proper ritual. He deserved honours and for the village to mourn him together. He deserved reverence−the horn blew again−but the evil on the other side of the walls would not allow it.

  She looked up. A small crowd had gathered. Oda was nearest. As she moved towards her great grandmother, Kaspar's arms fell away. With both hands, she lifted Adalbern's head to Oda. "Take him," she said.

  "His wife ... " Oda asked. Sieglinde could see the shaking in her fingers as she took the offering.

  "Is with Humbert," Sieglinde said. "I would go to her myself ... "

  "I will tell her," Oda said as she cradled Adalbern's head.

  Sieglinde looked at those gathered. "Do as we planned," she shouted. "If you are to hide, get your families to the manor. If you are to fight, get your weapons." She turned and ran to the tower. She climbed the ladder as fast as she could but her ability to pull herself up was hindered by her weakened fingers. It was Adalbern who had been the fighter. He had organized everything. She knew nothing of fighting or war.

  She reached the top and looked over the walls. Nearly fifty armed men had stopped at the edge of the forest. Some had shields; some helmets; most had swords.

  A sparkle caught her eye amongst the foliage. No, not a sparkle, a flame. A few feet away was another. Then another. Before she could comprehend what they were, the flames sailed through the air and over the heads of her and the sentries.