Our movements disturb a flock of nesting birds and the leaves rustle as they take to the skies. I watch them slowly shrink in the distance with envy, travelling airborne back down the path between the trees. What I would give for their freedom, the option to take flight and go as I please. I could head straight back to Avlym and then onwards, starting a new life away from all the pain and the tyranny. As the birds finally disappear, the deep blanket above us finally begins to lighten.
By the end of the following day we no longer trek through mud, the sodden ground giving way to slippery pavestones. I jolt as each fresh crack in the stone below sends a jar bouncing around my teeth. The rain has persevered and thickened, falling from stormy grey clouds that block out the sun and condemn the world to seemingly perpetual shade. Orrian and I sit in our suffering. I end up offering my shirt to one of the children, as bloody and ripped as it may be, it should help a little. Orrian and I both sit topless now. The young cling to the skin of the elders, teeth clattering and skin turning blue. Medea shouts out to one of the soldiers for help, pleading for anything that might help them. A snap of the whip answers.
Several more hours pass, I later emerge from my thoughts to find that the light has faded, and the downpour reduces to a light drizzle.
I am startled from my thoughts as shouts and commands break the long-settled silence. Almost immediately those in chains behind us start muttering and staring into the distance, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. I notice the ground at their feet is brightening, illuminated by an approaching source.
A large stone wall rises before us, turrets disappear into the clouds at regular intervals. Long banners drape over the sides which are posted with several sentries, shadows fluttering in and out of the torchlight. They call down to the head of the approaching army before disappearing into a couple of large towers which stand either side of the road.
In front of us rises an impossibly large fortified gate, a mesh of thick twisted steel covering the enormous archway. The entrance is easily big enough to accommodate any of Avlym’s buildings and through the bars large wooden doors begin to swing inwards. Lanterns hang from braces and several smaller openings seem to lead into the inside of the wall itself. Faint glows emanate from narrow slits in the stone and occasionally dark figures rush past. I have no doubt that the activity is a result of our arrival.
The unmistakable heaving of chains fills the night, and then, somehow, the metal begins to rise. Orrian is alert now, crouching beside me as we try and take in our destination. We watch as the sharpened spikes forming the bottom of the gate disappear upwards, leaving the entrance open as we are carted inside. It takes several long seconds to pass between the thick walls, from the footsteps and shouts above there may very well be an entire building above our heads. As the large wooden doors drift to a stop, I lower my chin to address the new world that opens before us.
We emerge into a large open courtyard centring around an ornate statue with water spouting from it. The stone depicts a solitary man, sword in hand and crown on head, words are scratched into a plinth, but I can’t read them from here. Back home all water is used and comes from the well, not put on display like this. What must Avlym look like to the people who choose to display such casual extravagance? Our only measure of wealth is an abundance of food, but I suppose here it must be compared on a different scale entirely.
The courtyard has several spokes exiting it, streets disappearing far out of sight between rows of A-frame white stone and wood buildings. Hanging lanterns swing from their tiled roofs in the slight breeze. Despite the late hour, many of the homes have windows ajar and signs of life carry from the inside.
In front of us, the army begins to disperse, splitting into groups and disappearing through various doors and alleyways. Only a few remain as our guards. Our cart continues without stopping, heading directly past the fountain and across to the opposite side of the gatehouse. The street is slightly wider here and continues far into the distance towards many high rising lights.
Laughter reaches us from up ahead and moments later we get our first actual look at life in the colony. A pair of large doors are pinned open to the streets, joy and conversation accompanying the hearty warmth that radiates from behind the walls. This at least is similar to home, I’m sure Bennie longs for a place like this.
A few lounge casually against the walls, pausing in conversation as we pass. Their faces are too clean and their clothes too elaborate. I look away in shame, to them we must merely be filthy, caged, barely-clothed animals. I may have hidden my pride but Orrian has regained some of his, eyeing the citizens as if issuing a challenge.
I wonder if those inside the tavern know of their people’s atrocities and the harm they’ve inflicted on the rest of us. Here they are, laughing, drinking, enjoying their lives between these high walls, but do they know at whose expense? I would have thought that they must to some extent, we saw
