Chương 10

Chapter-10 I'm not sure why so much effort was put into my rehabilitation. I do not know what the living hoped to accomplish, what they hoped to prove by showing that I could exist among them without causing harm. I settled into a simple routine that brought me the peace of repetition, like what I'd once had drilling with my brothers in the garrison.

Since I needed no sleep, I would wind the clocks of the church's clocktower at midnight, then wait patiently, my only company the rats of the church who used the hours to venture forth in search of food. When the clock read Six AM, I would ring the church bells six times. Then I would wait until someone came to tell me what my task would be that day.

It mattered little to me whether the blacksmith needed me to man the bellows, or if the builders needed me to carry lumber, or any of the other simple tasks I would be given. Gradually, the scent of fear dwindled as the sight of the rune on my forehead invoked less fear. It never completely faded, but the people of Pash-nasa started waving to me as I passed rather than rushing to get out of my way. I was told to smile at them when I was greeted in such fashion.

Then I was told to stop smiling, because it unnerved people. It seems that bearing my teeth while feeling nothing was frightening the children. And the children? I was a curious toy to them. They came to watch me work. At first they would occasionally throw something at me, a stone or rotten fruit or something. One of them dared to stab me, rushing forward with a sword they'd found somewhere. I did not defend myself, and after they had run me through they fell back, surprised that their assault had worked.

But I merely looked down at the sword, pulled it out of my stomach, healed myself, and went back to work. But as with the rest of the city, eventually the children came to accept me. They made a game of daring to touch me, rushing forward and trying to catch me unaware to tap me on the shoulder or slap me on the back. Their goal, as I understood it, was to catch me by surprise. They never succeeded, no matter how many times they thought they had. Like that, three years slowly passed.

I learned the rhythm of a peaceful city. I was paid fairly for my labor, exactly what a living man would make. The church ensured I was not cheated. They took what money I earned and held it in trust, saving it in case I ever had need of it. But I had so few needs. Occasionally I tore a shirt in my labors and needed a new one, but otherwise? I did not eat, drink, nor sleep. I had no need for entertainment or recreation. With no expenses, my savings grew. Until the day of the fire.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. It broke out in the low-town, the region of the city where the beggars lived in shanties and hovels. I was shoveling shit out of the public privy when I heard the sound of a horn blowing. I did not know what it meant, but my minders did.

"Get out of that hole, Tal, and come with me. We might need your help hauling water. Quickly, quickly," the young woman shouted. I set my tools aside and followed her as she explained.

"We need to contain the fire before it spreads to the entire city," she said.

"And there may be people trapped. We need to rescue as many as we can. You're faster than me, go on ahead and find someone to listen to. I'll catch up." With my marching orders, I took off at a sprint. I was indeed faster than her. I was faster than the living believed the dead had any right to be. I raced toward the scent of smoke and fear. I heard the screams. I remembered the words of my minder, a young woman who worked for the city. Later, they called me a hero.

There was chaos near the fire, with some people shouting about getting water and others screaming and crying. I recalled my orders. And I decided to interpret them as I willed. I went into the fire, and pulled out sixteen souls And when the fire brigade finally formed, I was the one who raced into the densest parts of the fire with large buckets of fire and sand. Close to fifty people died before we got the fire under control. And the grain warehouse was destroyed. It was autumn.

The warehouse had been full of the harvest. What little wheat remained to the city remained because I had been ordered into the burning building to fetch as many bags as I could before the building collapsed. I worked tirelessly for a day, a night, and half another day fighting the fire. I was surprised when, searching the smoldering runes, I was finally called away from what I was doing. I was naked, my clothes having been burnt away. The priests gave me clothes and bid me dress, then the lord of the city arrived.

I had seen him on and off during the disaster, managing the chaos as best he could. He had been the one to order me into the grain warehouse.

"Tal," he said, loudly.

"You have done this city a great service. While you were one pair of hands among many who fought the fire, you dove into the thickest parts of the disaster, where the living could not tread. Because of you, far less mouths will go hungry this winter. Because of you, sixteen citizens were plucked from the flames. Because of you, and because of everyone helping you, the fire did not spread to the rest of the city. You should be proud of yourself for your actions.

Know that the city of Pash-nasa is proud of you, and you shall always be welcome within its walls." Pride? I knew the word. But not the feeling. When the lord finished his speech, the crowd around us burst into cheers. And after that day, things changed. The lord and his lady took personal interest in me. Rather than cheap labor, I was called to the lord's manor every morning after I rang the bells. The lady took an interest in teaching me how to read, surprising herself when she succeeded. Winter came.

The grain that I had saved from the warehouse helped alleviate some of the hunger, but not all. The lord spent some of his fortune to buy food from our neighbors. The lady asked that I loan my small earnings to the cause, promising that the city would repay me within ten years with interest. I obliged, having nothing better to do with the coin, and news of my generosity was blown out of proportion. When I passed through the town, no longer did I smell fear. I smelled things that I could not identify at first.

Affection? Pride? Admiration? I asked the Lady one day why I was being treated differently now.

"Because, Tal, the people love you." Love? I knew the word. But not the feeling. The lord came to me in the depths of winter.

"My people are starving and freezing to death, Tal," he confessed.

"The disaster of the fire was not limited to those few days. We shall be recovering from this setback for years, perhaps decades. I have a favor to ask of you." I waited patiently for him to continue. When he saw that I had nothing to say, he continued.

"My people need something to bring them hope," he continued.

"There is a troll. She claims the pass of the valley west of here. I have arranged for food to be brought through this passage in the spring, and for the toll to be paid. But it would be cheaper, and it would fill the people with pride and hope, if the troll were to be killed instead. Do you understand?" I said nothing.

"I am not ordering you to do this," he said.

"I am asking you. Would you kill the troll Wek'bah for the city of Pash-nasa?" I considered Would I?