Chapter 179 The Dead
On an insignificant hill.
The scouts were searching for commanders and other groups of soldiers who had been lost in the battle. The captains had declared that it was necessary to regroup the army and find a commander. The young soldier approached the corpse, which remained upright with the help of three spears. He looked at it and recoiled, shaken.
The scout: The King...killed.
The soldier ran toward his horse and mounted it. He returned quickly to the camp to speak with the young captains. From other corners of the battlefield, they received similar news.
All the high-ranking captains were dead. Some of the captains who had assumed the positions of those who had fallen before the battle held a meeting to decide what to do.
The meeting was turbulent, and some nearly came to blows over their differences. Finally, they reached a decision: a new captain, twenty-nine years old, would lead them into the future.
In a field near the city walls.
The bodies of the Unicorns that died in the first battle lay in rows. New bodies arrived throughout the night and day. The High Priest of the Unicorns stood in the field with a team of squires clad in blue tabards.
They were removing the horns from their heads with reverence. The process was difficult and painful for those who loved the animals. They used hammers and chisels to extract the horns from the sturdy bones of the skulls.
Emiliano: Boys, I know you want to weep for these magnificent beasts. But for Unicorns, it is a great honor to die bravely in battle. Look at Bloody Beryl. She lived for over a hundred years. She had four riders throughout her life. The last was a man of great stature and a good heart. They died together saving others.
The young men continued extracting the horns with a sense of pride mixed with sadness. Each of them knew that the horns were sacred to the animals, and they would bury them in the Greenwood when they could.
The scrolls of the first priests contained writings about special places where Unicorns buried the horns of their dead. Over generations, they would return to these sites to deposit other horns. No priest was certain how they remembered these places, nor why they did so.
In a small room of the castle.
Marisela sat down with a thirty-five-year-old woman and her two children: an eleven-year-old boy and an eight-year-old girl. On a bed lay a handsome man, breathing very slowly. In a corner stood Patricia, the personal maid of the Countess and a tall Sister of Shadow.
Marisela: Children, your father was a brave and good man. To me, he was more of a friend than a servant. If your mother so desires, you may live in my castle. I can take on a new page, and Patricia can begin training her to become a castle maiden.
The Mother: You are as kind as ever. Yes, we accept. I could serve you in any way you wish.
The Countess: Very well. I can show you several positions at my service. You may choose the one you wish.
In the bed, Felipe breathed less and less deeply. Finally, his breathing ceased. The Sister of Shadow approached, nodded to the women, and covered his face with a black cloth. A wife and two children wept over the most important man in their lives.
When men write the stories of battles and wars, they almost never write about this moment. If they did write about it, perhaps there would be fewer wars.
In a corridor of the castle.
Kerstin crossed the hallway, and her eyes fell upon the face of Yegor. She ran toward him and, before he could see her, embraced him.
The girl: Yegor! I missed you!
The red-haired boy hugged her tightly: Me too. Are you well, my friend?
The blonde: Now, yes. Have you seen my brother?
Yegor: Yes, he is fine. He was very brave in the forest and during the battle yesterday. I need to look for news about my father.
Kerstin: You are a page to the Count of War. Let us ask him.
As they walked, she recounted to him the experience of the birth of the All-Mother, and of her Pegasus, Beautiful Boy. He recounted to her the death of his mother during the battle. The girl took his hand and wept for his loss. Finally, they found the Count in a large healing chamber, and a Sister of Shadow went to fetch his wife so she could speak with them.
The warrior knelt before the children in a small room. Her eyes were filled with sadness.
Yegor: My lady, do you know anything about my father, Javier? He is a cavalry captain in the army. I hope he is not one of the traitors of Aurelio.
Tatiana tried to speak without weeping: No, your father is not a traitor. He served in the North, in a battle between tribes. He fought for Arkady the Bear and for me with honor. But he fell in battle. He was very brave, and I believe his actions saved me and many others.
The twelve-year-old boy tried not to cry. But the tears fell slowly. The woman hugged him while he wept. Finally, he pulled away from her.
Yegor the Wolf: Thank you. I am proud that my father was not a traitor to the Queen. I want to be a warrior of honor like him...and like you.
The two children walked down the hallway in silence, holding hands. The young man stopped and looked into the eyes of the most important person in the world.
Yegor: Kerstin, would it be okay if I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life?
The thirteen-year-old girl wiped a tear from her eye: Yes. That will be very good.
The bed of Pedro, Captain of the Royal Guard.
The nineteen-year-old young woman held the hand of the twenty-four-year-old man. Her sixteen-year-old sister took his other hand. Both prayed as they listened to his soft breathing.
The younger sister thought she felt a slight movement in his hand, but she feared it was only her imagination.
Juana: Pedro, my love, please come back to me.
The voice was very soft: I am dead.
The woman opened her eyes and looked into the eyes of her lover, open and clear.
Juana: Dearest Pedro! Please, speak to me.
Pedro: I am dead. I am sure, because I see the face of the Goddess of the Air.
She embraced him with all the strength of her body. She and her sister wept deeply. The man thought about how lucky he was. Captain Handsome wept with joy.