It had been a month or two since Ren had seen the fog roll up through Comet Cove into the harbour of Sheld, but Tass told him, looking out the open window at the busy port, that there had been months without fog or rain. Ren tapped his head against the wall, sitting in the inn room’s only chair.
“What are we going to do?” his sister-in-law asked.
Renado shook his head. When Gadra had told him to “get going” to save his skin, he’d actually planned on leaving Sheld altogether. He blinked and stood up. “I’m going to go see,” he said, quietly.
“Don’t,” Tass whispered, finally looking away from the window. Her red eyes and dripping nose pleaded with him. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I’m going,” Ren replied. He grabbed his sword and shut the wooden door behind him before she could protest again. If she was smart, she’d stay put. He barely had the blade buckled on when he passed the bearded drunk man lying on the deck of the Seastar and started up the through the streets. What had the pious soldiers of the Atmos Septi done to his home? He shoved his hands into the folds of his salt-stained sailor’s coat and tried to find pockets.
The fog had all evaporated before Ren climbed stairs that would take him above its usually height limit. The dark, damp stones below the fog line ended and were replaced by tan and bright grey sun-scorched rock. Ren could have sworn that the line was higher when he had last left Sheld.
He finally reached the street that led to the estate’s front gate, walking slowly. The barricades had already been cleared, but broken furniture and trash lined the sides of the road. The worn rain funnels were blocked in some places, but there hadn’t been enough rain to flood the street yet. A future issue, Ren thought.
There were bodies hanging over the crumpled wooden gate of the Family estate. Ren froze when he saw them, dark shapes suspended from shambled wooden supports. Soldiers with spears were patrolling the opening in the walls. Should I go closer? Ren wondered. He dared. He stumbled closer and the dead became clearer.
There were six. Ren assumed three were men by their size and the bulkiness of their armour. A fourth was smaller in size, and also wore armour. Two were unarmed. He got closer and his dreads became reality. The smaller armoured corpse was Gadra’s, her neck twisted and her skin pale. Dried blood had spread from a wound in her side and from gashes on her face. Beside her hung the other women—Eseveer and Aunt Mara, the latter a fifty-year-old woman. Eseveer’s face and neck was bruised, perhaps from questioning. Her straight green gown was not torn, thankfully.
Ren hung his head and tried not to vomit. He was the youngest of the Family and these were the people who had raised him. He took a step forward; he still stood in the side street, out of sight of the main gate and the Grey Brethren that guarded there. One of the armoured men was Captain Maras, who had been stabbed in the chest twice before hanging. The other was Captain Uthran, whom Tass had told Ren betrayed them. He, and many of his guards, had tried to stage a rebellion against the Family in an attempt to accept the terms of surrender laid out by the Atmos Septi when they dragged Lerran before the siege line. Despite holding out in the Emerald Eye for the duration of the siege to surrender properly, Uthran hung alongside the other green badges; his throat was slit, and he hung from ropes around his shoulders.
And the third man… was no man at all. Antha hung alongside the woman, with dried blood painted down her torso from a wound in the side of her head. He bobbed hair was dishevelled but her eyes were peacefully closed, somehow, despite it all. She had not been in the estate when Ren snuck in the day before.
Smoke rose over the estate, but a quick glance through the open gate confirmed that they had not burned the mansion. It was full of soldiers, guards, and priests. Pavilions filled the courtyard. Ren’s home had become their command post and his family their decoration.
Ren closed his hands into fists and squeezed until his knuckles hurt. He wandered back through Sheld, down toward the harbour. The Grey bastards had killed his friends and family and left them for the birds.
When Gadra had told him to ‘get going’, he had fully intended to. His life would continue, instead of ending in a foolish battle the day before. He looked back at her body and sighed, then rounded the corner and descended through Sheld’s tiers to its lowest point. He would not be moving on with his life. Not yet.
At the Seastar, he ordered a rum to make Father proud and he began to contemplate his adversary. Ren had a high tolerance against being antagonized, but he was ready for a fight now.