Page 78 of Veinblood
“One of the soldiers?” he asks.
“No.” I don’t move from where I’m standing, keeping my arms loose at my sides, and make no threatening gestures. The last thing I need is for this to escalate into violence before I can explain my purpose.
“Then you’ll need to report to our Authority garrison. They’re stationed here permanently now, ever since …” He pauses, eyes moving over my face. “They’ll want to see your papers, and verify your business here. Or you could wait. They make their rounds through the village every morning.”
Perfect. He's handed me the opening I need without any prompting. The irony would be amusing if the stakes weren't so high.
“That won’t be necessary. Authority soldiers won’t be overseeing Greenvale any longer.”
The words drop into a silence like stones in still water, and Iwatch the ripples spread across their faces, confusion giving way to alarm, alarm sharpening into fear.
“What do you mean by that?” The older man’s voice has gone very quiet.
“They’re dead.”
For half a heartbeat, nobody moves. Then all three of them speak at once, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of shock and disbelief. The noise draws more villagers from their homes. Doors open, faces appear at windows, and people step into the square to investigate the commotion.
“Dead? How? When?” Calla demands, her voice rising above the others.
“Last night. I killed them.”
My words send another shockwave through the growing crowd. Word spreads quickly through whispered repetitions, each telling adding new layers of fear and confusion.
The Authority garrison is dead. This stranger killed them. What does this mean? Why is he just standing here? What will we do when more soldiers come?
“Who are you?” The older man’s demand cuts through the panic of the others. “Why would you do such a thing?Howcould you possibly …sixtrained soldiers …”
“Because they would have prevented the possibility of me asking for your help.” I ignore the second part of his question.
“Help with what?” a voice calls from the back of the expanding crowd.
“The Authority laid siege to one of the last remainingsanctuaries for Veinwardens. Families with children, fighters, elders. They escaped, but barely. They have nowhere to go, and with winter coming they need shelter, food, and somewhere safe to rebuild their lives.”
“Why come here?” another voice demands. “Why bring danger to our village?”
“Because one of yours showed compassion to someone in need, and I hoped his actions reflected the heart of your entire village.”
Confusion passes through the crowd. They’re trying to understand what act of compassion I could possibly be referring to. When? To who? What connection could their village have to Veinwardens?
“How many people are you talking about?” Calla asks.
“Three hundred.”
The number shocks everyone. Faces turn pale, as they think about the impact on their small village.
Three hundred mouths to feed. Three hundred bodies needing shelter. Three hundred strangers who could bring Authority attention down on their village.
“We can’t feed three hundred people,” Calla whispers, voicing what everyone is thinking. “Our stores barely see us through winter as it is. The harvest wasn’t … we don’t have enough for that many.”
“We don’t have space,” another voice adds. “Where would they sleep? Every house, every barn … it wouldn’t be enough.”
“And when supply riders arrive to find the garrison ismissing, we will be blamed,” the older man says. “They’ll assume we’re harboring enemies of the Authority.”
“They’ll burn the village and kill everyone in it.”
Fear spreads through the crowd. Voices rise in panic, people talking over each other, the crowd beginning to turn restless as some push forward to demand answers while others back away from potential danger.
I’m losing them. Unless I can find another way to convince them, I will have to go back to where Stonehaven’s survivors wait and tell them I failed.
