I smelled it before I saw it. Burnt wood.
We were too late.
What greeted us as we emerged from the mountain pass was not cheers and joy, but smouldering timber frames.
“No—!”
“Hänsel…”
“Mother…”
Several anxious gasps and murmurs permeated the column marching behind me as they caught sight of Rand.
Or what remained of it.
The formation broke as a few soldiers rushed towards the village. Then several more. Then all of them. Even Lili joined them, making for the charred remains of the village’s smithy. The army that stood firm in the face of charging horses, armoured knights, and a magic-wielding noble, scattered like leaves in the wind.
Only Erika and I remained still, watching the turmoil unfold.
A thought passed through my mind to reprimand the peasants for breaking ranks, but even I knew now was not the time. Erika nodded, confirming it as well.
Instead, we slowly followed behind the others in silence.
***
Most of the houses along the main road were gone. What remained were ribs of blackened timber jutting from a snow-dusted foundation. Fed by winter-dry thatch, the fire had moved fast. It was also no doubt aided by the fact that there was no one left to fight it.
The peasants roamed among the ruins, sifting through rubble, calling out for their children and loved ones.
For some, it was too late.
Paul knelt in between the ashes of his house, crying over a figure on the floor. Lotti knelt next to him, hugging his shoulders. He’d made it home. But his mother wasn’t there to greet him.
For others, however, there was still hope.
After several shouts, a group of shivering children emerged from one of the more intact houses. They huddled together for warmth, wrapped in whatever cloth they managed to grab.
“Mommy! I’m here!”
“Dad! Dad? Lold Kal, have you seen Jölg?”
“Grandpa! You are alive!”
The children swarmed us as soon as they saw us. They ran into their parents’ hugs. Both young and old cried tears of relief as they embraced. Others’ tears were of grief as three children failed to find their parents among the returning soldiers. They turned their eyes to me.
I couldn’t bring myself to give them the answer.
I just gave one of them a comforting pat on the head and quickly moved on, leaving the others to explain.
***
I found Otto in Lili's arms.
The forge must have been where the fire had started.
“Prince Karl…” Otto spoke in between coughs as he saw me approaching. “I apologise for appearing before you in such a—”
“He wouldn’t leave.” Lili interrupted him in a pained voice, fighting tears. “Those bastards! They tried to kill Father and destroy everything.” She raised her hand as if she would slap him. “You should have ran away! Parts can be reforged. You can’t!”
“I stayed to defend my honour and my work,” Otto explained in a stubborn voice. “You and Prince Karl will need as many parts as you can get your hands on. To keep you safe if our enemies return. And I don’t trust anyone else to forge them.”
“Still—“
“At least I can rest, easily, knowing you are protected by my work. What more could a craftsman ask for…?”
“Hey, don’t speak like you are giving up.” I weakly reprimanded the old man. “There is still much work left for you to do.”
Otto coughed, then smiled.
“Your optimism is amusing, Prince Karl. But I know myself well.” He motioned to his burnt and maimed right arm, which I had been avoiding looking at. “And even if I live through this, what good is a blacksmith who cannot strike a hammer?”
“You will still be my Father!” Lili shouted, hugging him tighter.
“What good?” I frowned at his stubbornness. “You can still teach others. Pass on your knowledge. And, of course, yes, be a father to your daughter!”
“I wish it were like that.” Otto shook his head. “But I have seen injuries like this in the war. It’s not something one walks away from. They rot from the inside. I would rather not my daughter remembers me confused and screaming in pain—“
“No, Father, I will stay with!” Lili put an arm over his mouth, then turned to me. “Lord Karl! Erika! Surely, you can do something. Like you did for all those soldiers.”
There was indeed something that could be done.
But it wouldn’t be pretty, and it wasn’t certain.
Still, losing such talent would be a waste. I am sure he would come to see it in time, too.
“Erika. Do whatever you can.”
***
Only the manor, sitting on its hill a bit away from the village, was spared the fire. I made the trip up alone, walking with only my thoughts for company.
Even though I knew leaving as soon as possible was the best choice, I still felt like I did things wrong. I could feel doubt and dejection creeping up on me.
I hoped Henrik and the others were just disgruntled peasants who would eventually see the value of freedom and opportunity that getting rid of Ugo gave them. That it was just a temporary fear of change.
I could have never guessed he was only biding his time to free Ugo’s sons. Or maybe it was just a result of opportunity, thinking we would lose and wanting to garner goodwill with the Count.
Either way, he was a short-sighted fool. Endangering everything I had built. And why? Out of fear. Fear of consequences or fear of change, it didn’t make a difference.
I should have seen it coming. I should have followed up more on the knight’s words first. Secured my backline before going on an offensive. Or just left a few soldiers behind.
It was his fault, sure, but I also couldn’t help but feel responsible.
I sighed as I opened the small wooden gate to the manor’s courtyard. The sight that greeted me in the manor did little to ease the cold grip in my chest.
The signs of fighting were visible before I even entered.
A trail of dried blood. Battered front door. Cuts and scrapes sliced through the equations scribbled on the wall. Scattered gold coins.
And lying on his back, nailed to the high desk with a fire iron—Adalbert.
He clutched a familiar wooden box in his arms. The treasury the Duke sent with me.
He hadn't made it easy for them.
I averted my eyes as soon as I saw him, staring instead at one of the lift equations smudged on the wall.
Empirical coefficient times density… times velocity squared over two… times…
I really shouldn’t feel bad.
I mean, the prince wasn’t even that close to Adalbert as he was growing up. And I only really knew him for a dozen weeks.
So I really shouldn’t feel bad. Especially when there was so much work to do. Arranging a funeral fire for the soldiers, sending someone to try to find Henrik, gathering the remaining gold… This whole mess set me back quite a bit and there can’t be progress without money to pay for it.
I stared down at the floor, counting the strewn coins.
Ten… Twelve… Twenty… Another ten… Sixty…
It should be enough to pay the soldiers and their families at least. Those that are left at least. But I will have to be creative afterwards.
Perhaps—
“Sir.” Kurt tapped me on the shoulder as I stared at the floor, counting the coins over and over again. His voice was much less relaxed than usual. “We have finished searching the surroundings and brought everyone back. Good news is, all the children are safe.”
“Is your family alright?” I asked as I suddenly turned to him.
“Uh—yes, they are all okay,” Kurt answered with a slightly surprised tone. “The kid’s a bit cold and shivering, but he’ll be alright. It’ll be good for thickening his skin.”
“Hm, I see.”
“Sir—if I may. Nobody thinks it’s your fault that wretch decided to go against all those who lived with him through a dozen hard winters. We all stand behind you.”
“You know what, you are right.” I nodded my head.
He was right, it was not my fault. And it was not just me saying it to myself.
I should not waste the efforts of my people by feeling sorry for myself. Despite the setback, there still remains work to be done.
Work to bring a better world for all those who are left.
“Come, we have arrangements to make.”
***
The ceremony took place in the centre of what used to be Rand.
The seven who fell in battle were put together with Adalbert’s body and the remains of those who died in the fire.
Most of Rand—this time I remembered to leave guards behind at the fotress—had gathered in a rough circle around the pyre. No one had needed to be told to come. They had simply arrived, one by one, until everyone was present. Even Otto had insisted on being carried out, against Erika’s advice and Lili's protests. He sat propped against what was left of a fence post with a linen blanket across his shoulders.
I stood a little apart from the others. Dietrich said a few words. Simple ones, about duty and courage and rest. I could not have done better myself and did not try when offered.
I noticed Jost’s cane among the things ceremonially burned. However, Erika’s stoic expression hardly betrayed feelings about it. Was she just being brave for the sake of everyone—especially Lili, who rested against her shoulder—or was it something else? I didn’t know.
For a long while, nobody moved to leave. The fire did the talking instead. The crack and settle of it. The way the heat pushed back against the cold air coming off the mountains. Kurt's son had fallen asleep against his stepmother. Paul and Lotti stood close together, not speaking. Somewhere behind me, one of the soldiers was quietly weeping, and no one thought less of him for it.
As I watched the flakes of ash dance in the wind, parts of an old song my grandma sometimes used to hum came to mind.
Risen from ruins, to the future turned, we stand…
Tomorrow, we will get back to building the future—and make sure these losses were not in vain.