Chapter Thirty-Four

**Fiery Calling**

In the end, the decision was made for all of those sleeping in Finchead, regardless of their personal verdicts.

Jason’s eyes bolted open, he thought he heard something. He laid still on his cot holding in his breath. A muffled cry made its way through a crack in the door. Jason turned his head and saw red silhouettes dancing in the gap beneath the door. “Vanna,” Jason yelled as he hastily got up. Jason's leg caught in his blanket and he cursed but managed to be standing by the time his friend burst through her door.

“What?” Vanna cried, her eyes downcast from fatigue, and her hair an unshelved wad.

“Do you smell smoke?” Eliza squealed from behind Vanna.

Vanna’s eyes shot open, “It's an attack. Oh, God.”

“What do we do?” Jason cried not bothering to hide the panic in his voice. His hands began to rattle.

Vanna rushed back into her room without a word. Within seconds she was back with her sword in hand. “I’m going to check through the back door, both of you stay in here,” she commanded. The warrior went to the door and unbarred it. Her hand hovered on the handle as if afraid of what might be behind the door, but then she quickly opened the door and rushed out. She closed the door behind her, but for a half-second, Jason could see what should have been a dark night sky was light with flames. Jason turned to Eliza and saw the woman's face was a ghostly white.

A moment later the door opened again and Vanna returned. She coughed trying to clear her throat, “ack, ack, they’re lighting houses on fire… ack, ack. The west side of town is hit hardest but it looks like the flames are moving this way.

Jason groaned, “Vanna what do we do?”

“Get the hell out of here, now,” she cried. “Jason grab your dagger and let's go, we have to help put out the fires or our cottage will burn down too.”

“What… what about me,” Eliza whimpered.

“You’ll be fine just stay close to Jason and me, if you see something you can use as a weapon grab it. Jason,” she yelled at the trader's hunched body, he was digging through his belonging for his dagger, “are you ready?”

“Yes,” Jason said popping up with his dagger in hand. He tied his belt to his waist as they moved out the front door.

Outside in the streets, the situation was worse than Jason expected. Vanna’s prediction was wrong, the fire was no more than a mere hundred feet from their cottage. All around them thatch roofs were ablaze and villagers were screaming in fright. Out of nowhere, a horseman came barreling down the road squealing like a gluttonous pig. He swung back his arm and whacked the back of a woman’s head with a long wooden club. The woman fell to the ground without a sound except the thud of her body hitting the road.

“Vanna,” Jason squealed after the woman as she ran after the horseman leaving Jason and Eliza by themselves. Thankfully, the horseman was a coward and ran at the first sight of resistance. Jason and Eliza caught up with Vanna and watched the horseman retreat to the outskirts of the town.

“Help, Help,” a female voice screamed from across the street. The trio turned and saw a woman strewn on the ground beating the dirt with her fist in front of a burning door. Jason looked to the woman who had been hit by the rider but saw other villagers were already attending to her. The group ran over to the crying woman. “Help, my son… he’s still in our house,” she cried. She lifted herself only to fawn onto Vanna in a weeping fit. Jason looked at the house and saw the doorframe had caved in, the only way into the inferno would be through one of the shuttered windows.

“Jason,” Vanna yelled, “I need to go in there.”

Jason looked between the burning building and his friend, he was wasting time thinking about the situation. Jason nodded and yelled, “quickly.” Jason ran to the nearest window and helped Vanna peel back the charred shutters. The fire was isolated to the roof, but it was quickly making its way down the house’s support beams leaving the floor unscathed except for bits of fallen roof. Vanna hopped through the window and Jason saw that one of the pieces of the roof had fallen on a young boy not yet in his teens. A long plank pinned the boy to the floor but Jason could see he was still alive. The boy coughed hoarsely, but he didn’t have much time, each successive cough came out weaker than the last. “Hurry Vanna,” Jason called through the window then erupted into a coughing fit of his own. The smoke in his throat burned hotter than the fire in the air.

Vanna used her shirt to mask her mouth and with one hand hauled the log off the boy. The boy opened his eyes briefly then shut them again, his eyebrows and eyelashes were burnt off. Vanna dropped her protective mask for a brief moment to lift the boy onto her shoulder then ran to the window. Jason helped pull the boy out and then laid him on the road a safe distance from his burning house.

“Oh, oh, oh, my boy,” the woman squealed and set upon the boy’s body.

“He should be alright.” Jason turned and saw Vanna dusting ashes off her shirt. She coughed then said, “come on, we need to go help put out the other fires.”

The group continued jogging down the street. When they reached the intersection in the center of town they saw a large crowd congregated to the north of town. With increased haste, they approached the crowd and saw a line had formed connecting the river with the town. Buckets of water were being passed down the line to toss onto the fire. Their efforts keeping back the fire, but just.

“Jason! Vanna,” a voice screamed from the line. A man broke off and approached them, it was Byron. The reeve panted heavily but managed to get words through his gasps. “Vanna find Trent. He and the remaining guards are combing the town for any remaining raiders we can't let them light anymore building on fire. Jason, Eliza, get in line and help us put out the fires already blazing.”

An awful thought popped into Jason’s head. “Byron!” He yelled. “What about the animals?”

“The fire hasn’t reached the townhall yet, but I let them out as soon as I saw what was happening. They’re wandering the streets, they’ll protect themselves. Now get in line,” he yelled with a shove.

Vanna ran off back into the town and Jason and Eliza made their way down the line. As the line got farther from the town people were more spaced out. They plopped themselves into an opening and helped pass buckets along the line.

*****

Several hours later, but still hours before the first light of dawn, a runner was sent down the line to announce no more water was needed. Jason’s arms ached from all the buckets he’d lifted, but his curiosity drove him to rush back into town without a rest.

A fire still roared on the western edge of town, but Jason saw it wouldn’t be able to spread any farther. The majority of the town had been saved by isolating the flames behind a line. Sadly the line was at the cost of more than a dozen charred homes used as sacrifices. Behind the line, some fires had been put out too late and all that was left of a few buildings were smoky husks.

As the rest of the line made its way into the town behind Jason a chorus of cries commenced. Those who had lost their homes, or loved ones, or both wept. The luckier villagers tried to comfort their neighbors but the sounds of sorrow were sickening.

“Jason,” Eliza said. The woman gestured towards the town hall. He could make out the shapes of Vanna and Byron.

“Come on,” Jason said.

The pair walked briskly towards the hall and as they neared they saw standing around Vanna and the reeve were all the animals from the stable and a few other villagers. Skippy neighed as he watched Jason approached. Jason's heart leaped when he saw his donkey was safe.

Byron was too busy talking with the other villagers to have noticed Jason’s arrival. Jason recognized a few of the elders were present and a small group of militiamen, but not Trent. “Byron,” Jason called interrupting the reeve from a hushed conversation with Elder Woman Esther. The reeve turned towards Jason, annoyance clear on his face, but Esther made a partying gestured and left. “Byron,” Jason repeated now that he had the man’s attention, “where is Trent, and what’s going on.”

“Is there a plan?” Eliza peeped.

Byron looked at Jason, black sacks bulged under his eyes and his face was stained with smoke. “The sheriff is still sweeping through the hillside, but we have the town secured.”

“We aren’t just going to let them get away with this,” Jason cried. He remembered Byron’s pacifist attitude during the meeting and hoped the attack had changed the man’s thoughts.

Byron shook his head. “Now is not the time to think of revenge… or justice,” he added. “We must put things back together here. In the morning we will see the real toll of tonight and will decide then what to do.”

Jason’s head was spinning, "that's it," he said sickened. "We wait?." He wanted Byron to be angrier, he wanted revenge for what Fallows did to Finchead. “Trent will do something,” he said hoping that would spurn Byron.

“No one is to do anything without my say so,” Byron said loudly. “Now if your home is still intact, go there, be grateful… rest. Tomorrow is a long day no matter what you decide to do,” he said the last part almost like a question. Does he think I’m going to just leave, Jason wondered. Jason snorted then turned away from the reeve in disgust. Byron is kind, but that kindness and patience are what got the village to this point. He should have sent Fallows a message long ago, Jason thought.

“Jason,” Vanna called. She locked eyes with the trader and he could see a mixture of weariness and concern. Am I being too harsh on Byron?

Jason looked back to the reeve and saw that he was already talking with someone else. “Byron,” Jason called.

The reeve turned his head slowly.

“We’ll get through this,” Jason said then nodded towards the man. Byron blinked once then a brief smile puckered his face. As much as a smile as one could muster after seeing the homes and livelihood of one’s friend turned to ash.

Vanna walked over to Jason, the warrior held Juno’s leash in one hand.

“Is the stable still intact?” Jason asked.

Vanna nodded, “it's still up, want to put the animals back and see if there is anyone we can help?”

“Yeah,” Jason said weakly, he was beyond tired but he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he went and slept while people he knew were unsure where they would sleep that night. Vanna pulled on Juno’s leash and they headed towards the stable. Jule called out to them as they were rounding the building and asked if they could put away a few of her goats. Eliza ran over to the woman and came back with a pair of goats in tow. “How did hunting down the bastards go?” Jason asked as Vanna pulled one of the stable doors open.

“We didn’t even catch one,” Vanna remarked with her head hung in defeat. “That horseman we watched knockdown that woman, he road off before anyone got him. No one’s sure how many there were but it had to be at least a dozen, most of them on ponies.”

“What about the watchmen?” Jason asked.

“I heard they hit the hills by the river first,” Vanna said. “Surprised the shepherds there and killed any sheep they could. Before anyone could raise an alarm they dashed straight for the town. Killed the watchman coming in, I heard.”

“Savages,” Eliza muttered.

“I heard all of this from some kid, no older than sixteen. He’s in the militia but wasn’t on guard duty tonight so I don’t know how much is true, but it's clear they hit us hard.”

“Real hard,” Jason remarked quietly, his mind was occupied on all the sheep that had to have been massacred that night. The hit would not only cripple Finchead, but also Jason if the wool supply was lowered in the long term. People died and I’m thinking about wool, Jason thought, disgusted with himself. “I bet Trent is ready for a fight.”

Vanna nodded slowly, they were back outside the stable and walking back towards the crowd in front of the town hall. “But the sheriff is loyal to Byron, Trent wouldn't do a thing Byron told him not too.”

“Somethings going to go down tomorrow,” Jason said.

“And I might just feel sorry for them when they meet an angry Trent,” Vanna muttered.