The Ever Lord: Mura and Heim

Heim Outwater was not a particularly handsome boy. Neither was he especially strong or clever. He was not known as a particularly skilled farmer nor tender of animals, he was a passing flue-player and could dance no better than any of the other awkward boys his age.

Mura was grateful for his lack of special skills, as it made him well suited to be House Outwater’s messenger boy. He traveled often between the farms of the Barony of Noonan, gathering and sharing news as he could. Mura didn’t doubt that House Ashtree was not the only House that saw him less as an Outwater and more as a wandering vagabond, accepting a meal and warm bed for his service.

He was still sleeping in that bed when Mura had woken up to start her morning chores. She didn’t begrudge his exhaustion; He had arrived late last night on his tired horse, bearing the news from the other farms.

Mura had given Heim a kiss on the cheek for his efforts. This made him first blush most furiously, and then stagger when Oklan slapped him heartily on the back with a laugh. It was a welcome moment of levity, considering the news he had brought.

The other Houses of the Barony of Noonan were no better off than House Ashtree. Outwater would need to slaughter some of their herd to survive the coming winter, and Longwater was in the same situation. Strongarm had lost their storage barn, and with it all their supplies and stores for the winter. They would starve, and soon, without help. The other two Houses had lost most of their harvest, and would likewise lose many of their family, if no one provided some food.

Several of the Houses were seriously discussing joining the Guild. Strongarm especially, considering their dire straights. It made Mura’s heart twist; how could her Ever Lord allow this to happen? Was he testing their faith? How could such fear and hunger be just, no matter its reasoning? Or was the Brother of the Guild right, and the Baroner was failing in his virtues?

“Mura?”

Heim’s voice shook Mura from her thoughts. She looked up to see him standing in the stable doorway like an uncertain chicken. Mura wanted to laugh at him, but she couldn’t. If it had been anyone else, she would have. Somehow, his awkwardness was comforting.

She turned back to her work, brushing Heim’s horse with stiff brush, cleaning her long coat and knocking away burrs and nits from her skin. “About time you were up,” she scolded him with a mocking tone. “Look at this poor girl. You rode her to exhaustion, I’ll bet, without a care for her poor legs and how they carried your lazy rump.”

He smiled a lopsided grin. “Nay, she wanted to get here as fast as I did. I tried to rein her in and she would not slow down; she was too eager to see you.”

Mura pursed her lips. “Don’t place your own impatience on your horse, foolish boy. I saw her panting as you rode up. You’re pushing her as fast as you like.”

Heim’s eyes darkened as he moved to his horse, rubbing her snout as she nuzzled his neck. “Aye, well…my news shouldn’t wait.”

For a moment they stood together, each brushing the horse’s sides while the wind blew outside. Then Heim spoke: “I’m leaving before noon.”

Mura looked up. “So soon?”

He shifted again. “Aye. My Dad told me not to waste time if the news was dire. He wants to plan out the winter as soon as possible.”

Mura studied Heim’s face, his worried eyes and smooth skin. After a moment she set aside the brush and sat down in the dry hay, shifting a bit and adjusting the hay to give him a place to sit.

He didn’t move for a moment, then jerking like a startled horse before sitting next to Mura. Even though he had the space, their knees were still touching. Had he been anyone else, she would have laughed at him. Why didn’t he just put his arms around her? It was clear he wanted to. She reached out, pulling him closer.

For only a heartbeat he resisted before sinking into her shoulder. She felt his weight press against her, as the soft whickering of the horses filled the old stable. The seasoned wood creaked in the wind.

“You could come with me.”

Her arm dropped. “Eh?”

Heim cleared his throat, his voice was hesitant. “Outwater is a good place to live. There is room for you. For us.”

“Are you asking me to betray my family?”

“No,” Heim insisted. “I’d never ask that of you…but…The Baroner’s mad. Or the Deceiver has him, that’s what Longwater says. He’ll not bend. He’ll send soldiers to take his claim.”

Mura leaned her head back against the stable wall. “You heard what my family’s planning, then.” It wasn’t a question.

“Aye.” Heim turned to look Mura in the face. “You know refusing to give him tithe won’t change his mind; he’ll kill you all before he gives you your due. Outwater could hide you, could keep you safe, and when things settle down again —”

Mura snorted. “He’ll not reach the edge of our land. Our Ever Lord sees him.”

Heim fell silent. For a moment there was no sound but the heavy breathing of the horses and the distant chatter of Mura’s family.

“Word will spread,” Mura said, not certain if she was trying to convince Heim or herself. “When people hear how the Baroner is starving his own, our Ever Lord will stop him.”

“So you say,” Heim muttered.

Mura turned to him. “You don’t think our Ever Lord will punish him for his sin?”

Heim shrugged. “The Brother of the Guild says the Baroner’s no worse than those above him.”

“Who is the Guild?” Mura muttered, staring up at the old seasoned rafters. “I don’t know the Guild. I know the Baroner, and I know my family. The Guild…who are they?”

Heim didn’t answer. His hands rubbed at his legs like a dog scratching at fleas. “I hear tell there’s space for an apprentice in the Baron’s house. For a herald.”

It took a moment for Mura to understand what Heim was saying. “You what?” she gasped. “You’d work in the Baron’s own house? When you’ve seen what he’s done to us?”

“We need food,” Heim said. “You know the season’s been hard, and we won’t survive without food or coin.”

“We’ll share,” Mura gripped Heim’s knee. “You know we will. We’ll not sleep with full bellies while there’s a hungry person in the Barony.”

Heim shook his head. “Too much of the harvest has been lost. Do you have enough food to feed all of the other five farms? The whole Barony needs aid, and the Baroner will need to see it done.”

“The justice of our Ever Lord is coming,” Mura stared deep into Heim’s eyes. “If you throw your lot in with sinners, you’ll not come out unscathed.”

Heim didn’t answer. Instead, he looked down at her hand before gently placing his own over it. “How many will starve before justice comes?”

“I have faith,” Mura said. “I wish you did too.” With that, she stood up and brushed the errant strands of hay off of her dress. She walked to the stable door and strode swiftly across the farm towards the longhouse. Her mind was spinning between thoughts of Heim in the Baroner’s livery, and her family wasting away with pained looks on their faces and loud rumblings in their stomachs.

She was almost at the longhouse door before she realized something was wrong.

Mura looked around. The usual sounds of her family bustling around the farm, calling to each other or gossiping over the chores, were absent. Instead, the wind brought raised voices coming from the direction of the farm’s gate. Her family was gathering, there, some people were shouting, and they were talking to…

A glint of steel hit Mura’s eye. There were swords and spears being waved about.

Mura broke into a run, pushing against the wind. She could see the spear-carriers were wearing the livery of the Baroner. Had he finally sent his soldiers to provide aid? But there was no cart of food that she could see.

All at once, the soldiers broke away from her gathering family. She could count clearly now that there were ten of them, half as many as her family. They all carried spears except for one, who wore a plumed Captain’s cap on his head.

Her family swiftly followed, calling and shouting after the soldiers as they approached the family’s storage barn.

Mura reached the barn at the same time they did.

“What, then?” Mura’s father was shouting as they approached. “We have heard nothing from the Baroner for months, and now his soldiers come to take our tithes? How many times must we plead with the Baroner — we do not have enough food to tithe this year!”

The soldiers made no move at first. Then, the Captain gestured at two of them, who moved to open the barn door. The Captain did not wait, but turned around to adress the gathered family. “By his mercy, his Lordship, Baroner Noonan of the Noonan Barony, shall pay the Family Ashtree’s tithings this year. No taxes nor tithes will be collected.”

The family’s grumbling turned to amazement. For a moment no one spoke, then Mura’s mother raised her voice. “Aye, has enough in his pantry to last the year? Well we do not! None of the filial Houses do. We need help, and we need it now!”

“‘Houses.’“The Captain sneered before he turned away and stepped into the now-open storage barn. Mura could see him look around, briefly inspecting the meager piles of grain, roots, and vegetables. It only took a moment before he stepped back out into the daylight. “Word has reached His Lordship’s ears that the Ashtree family is planning to share their stores with the other filial families of the Noonan Barony. Is this correct?”

“Of course it is,” Oklan spoke up. He glanced about at the assembled family. “How could we not?”

“You swore an Oath of Fealty to House Noonan, became one of its filial families, and now you seek to shame his Lordship your Baroner by taking his duties for yourself?”

Now the grumbling returned. One of Mura’s aunts spoke up. “We do not shame him, it is his actions that shame us all.”

The Captain sneered again before shouting a command. “Soldiers, affix your wall!”

With a clatter of steel and leather, the soldiers dropped their spears into position, poised to pierce through the torsos of the gathered family. The confusion of before turned once more to aghast anger as her family shouted their protests.

“What madness is this?” Mura’s mother shouted. “You would raise arms against one of your filial Houses?

“Again, ‘House.’” the Captain sneered again. “If you are a House, what is your Dictum, given to you by the Ever Lord’s own hand? Where is your seal and crest? You are a filial family, blessed with the honor of serving House Noonan. No more and no less. Do not mistake the Baroner’s grace with the Empire’s respect.” With that, the Captain turned and signaled one of his soldiers.

Mura knew it would happen before it did. She knew of her father’s fiery temper and lack of self-control. She could see his shoulders tense and knew he had found his chance.

He came from the side, his fist arcing through the air like a thunderbolt. He landed one good blow on the Captain’s jaw as he turned back, and then he was down.

It was like a wave, the surge of anger and rage crested only to break against the cliffs. Her father pulled against the solder’s grip, but he was caught. He ceased his struggling when the Captain’s sword-blade pressed against his throat.

“Step back!” he shouted at the furious family. The rage ebbed back, but Mura could feel it still boiling in the depths, hotter than ever. They would not risk her father’s life, no matter their fury, but they would not forget.

“This man has attacked a Knight of House Noonan!” Captain shouted over the fuming crowd. “He is guilty of treason, punishable by death!” Mura saw his face twitch. What did he see in the faces of House Ashtree? What burned in their eyes, brighter than a bonfire? “But,” he continued, “forgiveness will be given. As Knight of House Noonan, I proclaim punishment to be only ten lashes. A great mercy!”

Mercy indeed! Mura clenched her own fists, and drank in the heady smell of anger that rolled along her family’s backs. She could feel their heartbeats, their deep breaths, their clenched teeth. It was a drumbeat that carried her own body along with them, tight and furious.

“You! Girl!” The Captain’s voice broke through the red haze. He was pointing at her. “By the mercy of House Noonan, you shall wield the lash.”

What madness was this? What twisted cruelty blossomed in the Captain’s heart? A mercy, to force her father’s own daughter to lash his back?

The world was silent. The whole of Ashtree stood and watched. The soldiers did not move, save the one who the Captain had signaled. What was he doing? Sprinkling water from a jug over the barn door. Sanctifying it as a tithe, perhaps?

The steel spearheads glittered in the light, mirroring the burning tears that sprang to her eyes. How could they put this on her? They waited, all of them, for her to decide. The future rested on her shoulders, and she didn’t know what to do.

She shut her eyes tight, ignoring the teardrops that burned on her skin. Please, my Ever Lord, guide my hand to virtue. Protect me and my house. Save us from sin and destruction.

A wooden spear-shaft shoved Mura’s back, pushing her forward. A lash was pressed into her hands. She could barely see through the burning flames and blinding tears.

A body was shoved in front of her, kneeling. Was it her father?

“Ten strikes, girl. I shall count.”

If she did not comply, the spears would surely find their way through her family’s hearts. If she did, would she ever be able to look her family in the eye again? She looked down at her father, stern and proud. His eyes met hers.

Slowly, she raised the lash.

A shriek burst out from her mother’s lips. Her family exploded in cries of rage and pain. For a moment Mura didn’t understand; were they so angry that she would save them through lashing her own father?

Then a bright pain flashed in the corner of her eye.

Fire. It licked up the sides of the barn, following the dark trail of liquid the soldier had splashed. The steady wind blew at it, and once Mura thought the flames might go out, only for them to burst brighter than before. The Baroner’s soldiers had set the storage barn alight rather than let them share food with their fellow Houses.

The family surged like a struck animal. Spears jabbed through the air, driving the furious mob back as they pressed closer. Mura felt her heart clench tight in her chest, and with a furious scream she brought the lash down on the Captain’s sword, driving it back as she struck his arm again and again.

The Captain jumped back as her father pulled himself upright, pulling Mura away. There was shouting and screaming and crying as the fury of House Ashtree boiled around them. Some of her family ran off to fetch water, to save what little of their tiny harvest they could.

The soldiers bid a hasty retreat towards the gate, pushing the family away with spear-point and shaft-butt. “You’ll pay for this banditry,” the Captain shouted as he waved the sword in the air and made his way backwards towards his men.

Mura didn’t see where the spear came from. Perhaps Oklan’s strong hands had yanked it from a soldier as he ran. Perhaps he had picked it up from the ground after a soldier had dropped it in the confusion, or thrown it in a foolish attempt to keep his assailant’s back. However he came to hold it, he shoved his way past Mura and her father, driving the shaft through leather and flesh. The Captain gave a startled gasp before he choked his last, falling to the ground with blood pouring from his mouth.

Oklan tugged the spear free as he ran after the soldiers. “You rot-blood bastards!” he was crying. “That’s all we have! They need it! We’ll be hungry for a year now and all for nothing! Is this who you serve? Some drooling noble who feasts on rich banquets with his mouth overflowing with wine and meat? What about the Houses who will starve because of the storms! We could have saved them! We were all saving them, and it’s burning! You’re burning their food!”

In a daze, Mura turned to the burning barn. The water carriers fought the flames, but it was too late. Mura felt her father tugging furiously at her shoulders, finally moving down to her hips and pulling hard like he was trussing a pig. Mura barely felt herself being dragged across the ground to the longhouse door. She could smell the burning food as it filled the air, already beginning to be replaced by the scent of charcoal and ash.

The soldiers were at the gate now, swiftly mounting their horses and riding off down the road. Oklan was wailing now, tears streaming down his face. His hands clawed at his hair as he sank to his knees, the spear fallen in the dust. Now another rider galloped towards the gate; Heim was atop his horse, riding hard and fast into the wind. He spared her a glance as he passed, his eyes clear and jaw firm.

He needed to leave now, to tell everyone what had happened. What was happening.

Mura looked down at her hands. Slowly she opened her fist, letting the lash fall to the dirt. Everyone would know. In a handful of heartbeats, everything had changed.