How did this come to pass?It was a question that he had begun to ask himself more and more frequently as the days went by. The answer was academic- he knew why he had ended up in Cairhien, he knew why he was now in that little hamlet nestled in the foothills of the mountains, he knew what challenges were ahead of him. What he didn't understand was why everything had panned out so differently from the way he had planned, all those months ago in Arad Doman. He had reviewed the events after his departure from the estate innumerable times in his head, but he still couldn't make sense of any driving purpose behind all of it, any underlying basis for the course of events that had eventually left him so far away from his goal. But all of this was not going to help one whit, and he had realised this some time ago. He had resigned himself to the vast changes that his life had undergone, a weary resignation that for most people was closely followed by giving up, but something childlike still kept his dreams alive, thus creating the regret that gnawed at him constantly. It was a turmoil that was with him all the time- the pragmatism of accepting his situation as against the desire to find a way to change it.

 

Suppressing the desire to ruminate pointlessly yet again, he got up to do what he had come here for- scout the region for hostiles. It was a daily activity that had to be repeated thrice, according to a schedule that he had created that would account for any and every type of approach/attack. North was the first direction to be evaluated. That young fellow Kin Tovere had invented something marvellous with his "spyglass", as he so amusingly called it, but that aside, nothing of note to the north, not even the slightest movement of the bush and brush beyond from that of a few easily visible animals. His gaze swept the horizon east and west, scanning carefully through the foliage for the slightest hint of intruders, at the same time taking in the sky for any movements of displaced birds. Nothing. As had been the case each and every time for the last three weeks, nothing. He sighed, considered just going back to the village longingly, but prudence won out, and he descended the hill to examine the surrounding woods. He spent over an hour on his circuit, as usual, examining the trails of the local wildlife, checking for disturbances in the traps and snares he had set for any human trespassers, as usual, finding nothing.

 

Is the whole thing worth all this trouble? he grumbled to himself as he made his way back to the village at last. To what point or purpose would there be trouble in these parts? A godforsaken hamlet in the foothills of the Spine of the World, south east of Cairhien and all the urban settlements of the kingdom, and east of Morelle, considered by some to be not even within the boundaries of Cairhien was hardly the kind of place where one expected trouble... While it was very much incomprehensible from an objective point of view, there could be no doubt that danger lurked out there somewhere. Not twenty miles to the north lay the ruins of the village of Zebina, the most prosperous of all the villages for leagues in all directions. The few survivors of whatever catastrophe had befallen the place- eleven small children and two older girls- had made their way south to Boumsong somehow, but were incapable of telling anyone what had happened. Whatever it was, it was not something that a normal village defence could handle. And hence his precautions.

 

______________________

Revan Atreides

Warder Initiate

"Master Revan! Any sign of trouble?"

 

Revan grimaced at the sound of Grauman's voice. The little man who was supposed to be the 'mayor' of Boumsong was a good man, but had a habit of asking rather inane questions at times. Like the rest of the village, he took special care to be respectful to Revan, which most of the time tended to make him extremely uncomfortable.  What was more worrying however, was the quivering worry that had now entered the voice of Grauman, who had earlier been so full of confidence, despite the troubles that appeared to be looming. The endless wait for some sort of trouble like that which had devastated Zebina was beginning to take its toll on everyone. Including me he thought grimly.

 

 

He cleared his throat and looked up at the little man sitting atop the wagon wall, willing himself to bring some light-heartedness into his voice. "All clear, Mayor. The surounds are clear as can be. Hows the stockpiling coming along?"