Siege State

Chapter Twenty-Two: My Hero!

Tom straightened his coat in the mirror for the umpteenth time. Fixed his hair once again. Scrutinised himself for any flaws. His Hearing was in an hour, and he would stand before the Council, and other interested parties, and explain to them that creatures from antiquity were threatening Wayrest.

The Healers had performed their final checks this morning. They had declared him hale, after much poking and prodding and hand waving and muttering over mysterious enchanted objects. He could discharge himself whenever he liked.

Mart, his familys butler, had stopped by in the morning to deliver him a set of clothes. His black formal coat and black breeches, and his finest white shirt. His best boots too, polished to a mirror sheen. Mart had apologised for his parents absence, and assured Tom that they would be attending the Hearing.

After he had accepted the clothes, Mart passed him a silver pin for his coat: a simple, straight, double-edged sword. His Houses sigil, their crest. He had it stitched into most of clothes, but he hadnt been given an actual icon to wear since he was twelve. Over a decade ago. Word must have reached his parents that he had manifested. His heart swelled as he pinned it to his breast.

Toms mind was a conflicting swirl of emotions. He was nervous about his homecoming. He couldnt wait to see his family. He was anxious to stand before the Council, the most important men and women in Wayrest. He was proud that he had manifested. He was still a little out of sorts from his experience. All told, he didnt feel ready, not in the slightest.

Tom gave himself one final check. No wrinkles, no creases, not a hair out of place.

Ready as Ill ever be, he thought, and made his way out the door.

He left the hospital, briefly chatting to the Healer sitting at the front desk to let him know he was discharging himself. The man nodded idly and waved him on.

Tom stepped out the wide double doors of St Aloes and into the busy street. He had to take a moment to collect himself. Traffic flowed steadily past. A couple of nearby hawkers cried. Carriages rattled.

St Aloes, the biggest of Wayrests three hospitals, was located in the city centre, roughly equidistant from the Council Chambers and the Academy, and a mere stones throw from the Our Lady of Verity Cathedral.

The air was warm, but not stifling any longer, as autumn swept into Wayrest. This close to the city centre, in the administrative section of the city, there werent as many trees as the Nobles District. Even so, leaves in brown and red and gold tumbled and turned along the cobbles, dancing through the feet of the crowds.

Tom adjusted to the sights and sounds and smells of the city relatively quickly. It had surprised him, his first two Reapings, how quickly he had adjusted to life in the Deep Green, and just how quickly he had acclimated to life back in Wayrest again. His senses were stronger now that he had manifested, but it didnt prove overwhelming for long. He supposed living in the city all his life had inured him to it, to an extent.

There was something else, though. He no longer felt overwhelmed, but something felt strange. The noise of so many people, of so much industry and commerce. The sight of so much brought in and broken and forged and rebuilt into mans designs. The million myriad sounds, clashing and discordant, all perpendicular to each other. All of it was a subtle pressure on him now that hed never noticed before.

Tom reflected on the feeling, and found something else surprising. Now that he had adjusted to Wayrest again, he missed the Green. He actually missed it.

A wry grin snuck onto his face. I cant believe myself, he thought. He remembered back to when he had manifested Survival. The feeling of accepting your environment, of harmonising with it, utilising it, was indescribable. He wasnt quite sure how to fit it into his life in Wayrest.

Maybe Ill take a posting with the Guard to the outer rings, he thought. He considered it as he began the walk to the Council Chambers, and found he liked the idea.

I dont know if Father will be convinced. Hell probably want me in Wayrest, to represent the House, Tom concluded. He might give me some leeway though, having come back with a fall.

He continued on, his steps lighter than he could remember. Soon, he stood outside the grand, pillared front of the Chambers. He squared his shoulders, tugged at his coat, and marched up the steps.

Inside, across the grand lobby, he found a team of industrious looking, well dressed folks shuffling paperwork and talking quietly. They sat behind a huge semicircular desk, the dark wood polished to a mirror sheen. Above it, an enormous painting of Wayrest dominated the wall. A man greeted him from his seat as Tom approached.

Master Cutter, I assume? his eyes ranging over the pin at Toms breast. At Toms assent, he gestured to a spacious lounge area against one wall, several couches arranged around low tables. Please wait over there. The Council will see you shortly.

Tom thanked the man and made his way over to the seats hed indicated. His boots clicked on the smooth stone floor as he walked. As he approached, a woman stood from one of the seats to greet him.

She was older, with deep creases at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Despite that, she didnt give Tom the impression she was overly given to smiling. She looked, not severe, but stern. Her brown hair was beginning to grey, and was tied back in a neat tail. She stood a little above average in height, about a head shorter than Tom. Her frame was that of a wrestler-turned-baker, or perhaps the other way around - soft and curved, but spry and powerful too.

She was dressed in clean, neat breeches and a shirt, both looking newly purchased. To Tom it seemed just a little shy of formal enough for the Chambers, were it not for her boots. They looked sturdy and comfortable, and boots only got both of those characteristics by being both well-made and well-worn. They were clean, at least, just out of place. The same could be said of the woman in general.

Master Cutter, I hear, she greeted him, giving his hand a brief shake. She was even stronger than she looked. You can call me Val. Probably best you go with Ms. Carver while were in the Hearing though.

Thats me. Just Tom is fine though, Tom replied. Pleased to meet you, Ms. Carver.

Her voice was kindly, at odds with her stern appearance. It unbalanced him a little, and he was unsure why she was greeting him at all. She let him wonder just a moment longer.

Well? Arent you going to thank me? she asked, her face devoid of any expression.

At his look of confusion, she explained, I saved you. Spent six hours carrying you out of the Deep. Used one of my good potions on you, too, making sure you didnt bleed all over me.

She saved me? Tom was stunned. Then it clicked. Shes a Hunter!

Immediately he became wary. Hunters werent good to associate with. They were banished to the Deep for a reason.

Well? she said, crossing her arms and regarding him with a raised eyebrow.

Gratitude overcame caution. He was trying hard not to be churlish anymore, after all.

Thank you, he said warmly, offering his hand to her again. Truly. I owe you my life, and more.

She stared at him imperiously for a few seconds. Tom began to worry, thinking shed taken offence to his initial wariness.

Just your life is fine, she offered.

Tom was fairly sure she was joking, but her stony face revealed nothing. He decided to side-step the issue.

You saw them, didnt you? The orcs? You must have fought them off. Its the only thing that makes sense, he asked, almost pleading. He needed to know that he wasnt the only one. His experience with the Healers had made him start to think the whole thing had been some kind of extended hallucination.

Val hissed under her breath, making a sharp cutting gesture at him. He held his tongue as she glanced around to see if anyone had heard. The closest people were some noble looking people sitting a decent distance away, talking amongst themselves. She gestured at him to take a seat.

Be careful. I dont think you realise the half of whats going on here. The Council is in a state. Half of them dont want to believe us, and the other half think they should ignore it. It wont help our case in the slightest if they think weve been spreading rumours, explained Val.

You did see them then! Tom said, relieved. But -what? They have to believe us! There are orcs-

Be. Quiet, she hissed at him forcefully, her teeth gritted. Youll ruin everything.

She took a moment to collect herself, and then heaved out a sigh. Well make them believe us, but you cant go in there yelling and panicking about myths and legends. The Council is austere. Things have to be put to them in a certain way for them to be considered properly. Can you do that? Can I count on you to be calm and collected? She watched his face intently.

Tom reeled. There are orcs! They have Ideals! If we dont act well be under siege in a year! He could understand the need for a calm and collected presentation of the situation to the Council, though, even if he didnt quite understand how Val would know how the Council operated. He would trust her though. She had saved his life, after all.

Okay, he nodded slowly. I can do that. Calm and collected. Knowing Im not insane is a big help. Just can I have a moment to put my thoughts in order? To centre myself a little?

She gave him a mild look. Of course, she said.

Tom took several minutes, meditating and trying to find his balance. Val was right. Going into the Hearing in a panic would hurt more than it would help. He had to think about his reputation as an Idealist now too, and more than that, the Cutter Houses reputation as well.

He opened his eyes once hed attained a measure of calm and found Val giving him a considering look.

How did you find me? What happened? asked Tom. He was curious to know.

Sheer dumb luck as much as anything, she replied. Id just gotten back to Corins Grove after a couple weeks of ranging. I sold off my take, restocked, and headed straight back out the next day.

Corins Grove was situated about halfway between the north and east trade roads. They grew apples and peaches there; it was supposedly quite picturesque.

About mid-afternoon I heard fighting. You can imagine my surprise when I came across a young man fighting off half a dozen monsters. Her mouth tightened as she remembered.

You were getting the life choked out of you. Memories of inescapable weight pressing on him. Of crushing pressure on his neck. Flailing pathetically at the monster atop him.

Val grimaced, seeing something on his face. Im sorry I didnt get there sooner. Its alright now. I killed the orc choking you and the others ran. I saw one had a big silver hammer?

Im thankful you got there when you did, Tom said, trying to reassure her. She seemed genuinely upset she hadnt been able to intervene before they caught him.

A village-killer swarm - spiders - happened across us in the middle of the night. The orcs ambushed the survivors, Tom explained.

A swarm? Really? She let out a low whistle. Theres not many of those in the Deep. Saw a flock of blood crows, in my first year as a Hunter. Right up near the Nails. That was more than enough for me. Spiders though... She shuddered.

Tom said nothing, but shuddered a little at the memory himself.

The Nails were a range of low mountains that bordered the Deep Green along most of its northern side. It separated it from the vast Rust Sands on the other side.

Tom went to say something else, but Val gestured to some large double doors to the right of the main desk, where some clerks were emerging. Looks like were up now.

One of the clerks approached them, and the others filed past them to the other people scattered around the seating area.

Master Cutter, Miss Carver? This way, if you please, he said, turning back towards the doors to the Chamber proper.

As Tom began to follow him Val gave him a significant look, urging him to composure.

Tom took one last look around the lobby before stepping through the double doors. He got a shock as he saw his father, Lord Cutter, making his way across the lobby with his typical commanding stride. His mother trailed along behind him. He caught Toms eye and nodded.

Father acknowledged me in public! In the Council Chambers, even! Tom thought to himself. Pride welled up in him.

He turned back and continued through the doors. He resolved to act as a perfect Cutter.

And with that, he strode into the Chambers, the seat of the most powerful men and women in Wayrest.

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