Chapter 27
To Sieglinde's confusion, the attacks upon her people did not come the next day. Several more days passed before she stopped climbing the tower a dozen times to check on the forest. Several more days passed before she noticed the others in the village begin to laugh with each other again. They twitched less and visited each other more. Several of the injured were healing nicely, though they had had a few wrenching losses. Adelina had not survived. Her mother, Petra, had been so hard hit by the loss, that within the day, she had been found floating in the lake.
With the inexplicable reprieve in the assault, there began to be hope. They used what wood they could salvage to build temporary new homes, and they had even begun to plan a ceremony to honour the dead. The bodies had all been burned shortly after death out of necessity but there had been no ceremony in it. Performing the rite would help the people mourn.
The day of the funeral, the air was heavy. Featureless gray clouds stretched across the sky but she knew it would not rain. They were too light and too uniform. Despite the cloud cover, it was hot. As she walked her rounds, she tried to fan herself with her hand. It gave little comfort. When the morning tidying had been completed, she saw the people beginning to gather near the manor. It was time.
The villagers stood in a circle around her. They held hands and hummed and sung along as she led them in a chant. It was not one she had needed to sing before. She had not been a priestess long enough. The last time she had even heard it sung was over the fever-maimed bodies of Luitgard's and Humbert's parents.
In that ritual, they had burned the dead in great pyres with herbs and flowers as was custom. But with so much fire destroying their lives in the attacks, the custom no longer held the majesty and honour that Sieglinde remembered. When they had burned the murdered, she thought only of preventing disease. Indeed, the recent dead had not even been prepared properly. The bodies upon a pyre were treated with flowered tinctures and wrapped carefully. There had been no time and no resources to spare for such treatment. They had been set alight and the crowd had dispersed before the last of the fire had gone out.
And even now as her lament touched each of those around her, they could not spare the supplies for anything more than a ritual wealthy only in words and sentiment.
She spoke of the dead.
"Adalbern was important to us all," she said. "His unerring devotion to his duties and his wise guidance prepared us for what we have been forced to face. We have stumbled and we have not come through this without eternal scars, but most of us have survived. He worked to teach us. He was determined to teach me as best he could in such a short time. I hope that I can prove as wise as he was in the face of this enemy. He taught me so much."
She just hoped it would be enough.
"Thank you, Adalbern," she called to the sky. "You will always remain unseen."
"You will always remain unseen," the others repeated.
She swallowed a dry lump in her throat before speaking of those who had been working in the fields when they were attacked. She spoke of the fear they must have felt. How unfair it was that those who worked so hard for others in life should die with such fear. She spoke of Julia's skill in making the sweetest smelling tinctures, the same ones they would be using now were it a proper ritual. She spoke of her own father. Kaspar had fallen clutching his chest after several nights of no sleep and hard work keeping the others safe.
She wiped at her eyes and tried not to look at her mother.
She spoke of Boris' efforts to build the storehouse and how he was known for being the only person alive who could calm his little girl Sigi after a nightmare.
"Perhaps he will join you and protect you in your dreams, little one," she whispered, looking at Sigi, whose face was now blotched red and wet.
She continued speaking as she went through each of those who had died, right up until the most recent of the deaths. There were Garreon, Monika, Nina, Amand, Felix, Lara, Horst, Ebbe, Alfons, Karsten, Ewald, Gerulf, Friedmann, Alois, Ingeborg, Petra, Julia, Axel, Lucia, Lena, and Ansgar. After each one, she said, "You will always remain unseen," and those gathered would repeat the phrase in a quiet murmur.
Finally, she spoke of Adelina.
"That girl had not been on time to her lessons once in her life," she said. "She tittered with others when she should have been paying attention. Her poultices could knock you off your feet and only cure the lack of pus. Her sewing would fall apart in your hand. But ... but she was kind. And she had the most genuine smile of any of the girls I have ever taught. And I ... I would give my life if it meant she could titter her way through just one more lesson on just one more day.
"You will always remain unseen," she choked.
The echo of the crowd was quiet. The air was still and that confirmed for Sieglinde what she had been feeling for weeks. They were alone. They were fighting alone. If they survived, it would be alone.
Though she was sure they would likely lose any coming fight, she had honour enough not to say it. And she had honour enough to know it did not matter. She would fight even with her last breath. For that much, Adalbern had taught her well.