Y - Yeoman Stone

The best part of visiting relatives is seeing things you have never seen, but it is extra special when they have not been seen in centuries. If Laithe and Tristren took the advice they received about visiting Laithe’s cousins in Hatra in the middle of the summer, while protests and house skirmishes were frequent, they would have missed out on becoming part of an event that would surely live in stories for centuries.

The air was still like a predator stalking prey. If you moved too quickly, the heat would pounce on you. The guide provided by councilman Pryor Edney oversaw the assistants that handed out wet cloths to hang on their necks. The view from the Yeoman Stone was one of Pryor’s favorites. He said the sight was legendary, even if the view was less imposing than it was when surrounded by the Trythis Sea. There was a railing now to keep people from falling off the steep pile of stone topped by the enormous stone spire.

Tristren could barely contain her excitement. Laithe appeared to be more uninterested than his three young boys, who were making a game of running to the precipice of the wall and skidding to a stop. Tristren had given up on warning them. One would die from these absurd antics and the others would learn. Or maybe not. Laithe never corrected them. He acted as if two things were true about parenting. First that it was not his problem. And second, he only needed one boy to make it to manhood. The rest of the children he treated like hungry parasites, there only to devour his earnings until Laithe had the decency to die and get out of their way.

Tristren was unconcerned what day that would happen. Perhaps this heat will finally get him, she thought. Her husband was much older than her, as was the custom in the Pryor family. The men in the family were often stubborn and relentless. Perhaps that was another reason Laithe refused to spend time or energy on molding his children. The children were going to act as they pleased no matter what he said. Better off saving that energy to drag out torturing your young, beautiful wife. The couple’s daughter was the youngest, named Riandel. Being five annum, she clung to her mother. The pressure of the child on her leg reminded Tristren of the fate that awaited her, too.

“Watch your step through here. The top off the wall has taken a beating these past few years as the storms have been strengthening and coming from new directions.” Ekalamish was a senior aide in House Pryor. Tall, with very thin build, he looked as if he were a support pier with appendages topped by a mop of stringy, straight, black hair.

“You say this is going to be worth all this melting of our faces and sores on our feet, Eka?”

“Most certainly, master Laithe. Master Pryor enjoys this spot a great deal. He has not been able to visit of late, what with the unrest taking up so much of his time.”

“Thank you, for bringing us out to see the sights, Ekalamish,” Tristren was going to be polite even if her husband was incapable of it.

“It is my pleasure, mistress. You can see we are nearly to the stone. There we can sit in the shade and enjoy the refreshments we have brought for you.” Ekalamish stepped around a meter-and-a-half bite out of the edge of the wall where some larger stones had fallen out below and left a chunk out of the upper surface. The walkway wasn’t exactly large to begin with, but big enough for two groups of four to pass each other easily, at least before the decay began.

“I can already see the stone. And the view. Can we not just return and say we went out to it?” Laithe scrunched his nose up and frowned deeply.

“I will tell you that it is likely that master Pryor is quite interested to exchange observations with you about some of the finer details, as well as the plaque. At dinner, he will ask things you can only know if you have stood at the end of this short journey.” Ekalamish offered a wan smile.

“So that is our goal, then. Small talk and shade. I can agree to the shade at least,” Laithe said.

“Boys, please return to us now.” Tristren had to try. Or appear to try, at least.

“Can’t you tell me what I need to know so we can get back to a civilized location? If there is one in this forsaken, backward oven,” Laith said.

“Forgive my husband, Ekalamish,” Tristren said. “He is surely weary from the long days on the train. I expect he will return to his normal jovial self after some rest.” The group was close enough to the end that the twenty-meter stone was less than a train-car length away.

“What I am weary of, wife, is you telling everyone how I am when I am not any of those things. Eka here does not need any explanation. Be still, woman.”

It would be a real shame if he fell from the top of this pile of oven stones.

“Well, here we are.” Ekalamish steered the conversation away from the conflict. “As you can see, there is a large brass plaque describing the naming of this stone. It is said that the stone was here sticking out of the sea before they built the wall, but now that the water has exposed the entire wall, many scholars argue that the entire wall, including the stone was placed here to fortify and calm the waters of the port that once stretched out behind us to the left. The train depot and all the warehouses you see above them down to your left would have been under at least thirty meters of water at the peak depth of the sea. Quayside, down below the train, is one of the newest parts of Hatra and it’s at least two hundred annum old, if we are avoiding overstatements.”

“Refreshments? You mentioned refreshments?” Laithe pushed past them and headed directly for the shade on their left. Tristren forced her face to remain still, keeping her embarrassment and disgust to herself.

I could kill my parents for arranging this marriage. I was fourteen, and now I have sons approaching that age. They will never be forced to bed an old man and have his babies. May Riandel grow up in a world with more dignity to offer every one of its people.

Servers hurried to set up tables in the shade. The three boys had gone off to run around the right side of the tall stone formation where the sun was brightest. It looked to Tristren as if the stone was somehow not entirely natural, though the surface gave every indication that it was.

“Mother! Hain is climbing!” The voice came from the far side of the Yeoman stone. Tristren scooped up Raindel in her arms and walked quickly, but with much more dignity and grace than Laithe could muster. Around the side, she looked up on the shady side of the enormous rock. It’s almost like an obelisk with the corners rounded off, the way it thins at the top.

“Hain! Come down here, this instant. And be careful about it, will you? This looks like it’s not entirely stable.”

“Mother, it is fine. I am totally safe.”

“That is fine, but I want you to come down immediately.” Tristren let the squirming Riandel down to the ground and kept her eyes up on her eldest son. That boy is entirely unfit to lead the family and probably never will be.

“Mother, mother, listen.” Riandel poked at her mother’s arm. “I hear something.”

“I hear nothing, Rian.” She glanced down at the girl. “What do you hear?” Tristren looked back up at her son, hovering with his hand in a deep crack about eight meters up on the rough rock surface.

“I am not sure what it is. It sounds sad. Mother, why would this rock be sad?”

“How would a rock be sad, dear Rian?” Tristren kept her eyes on Hain. “Please get down here, Hain.”

“Coming, coming.”

In the farther side of the shade, Laithe was seated on a cushion, sipping something from a tall, sweating, metal cup. Ice. Of course they have ice for us. Above her head, Tristren heard a crunching sound and a squeal. She glanced up just in time to see Hain sliding down the surface, riding a three-meter-high chunk of rock. Servers were scattering in her lower peripheral vision as she froze, helpless.

Hain held fast to the rock until it crashed into the three-meter-wide ledge that ran the circumference of the stone. He lost his grip and tumbled hard to the ground, hitting his head and going unconscious.

Thoughts failed her.

The ledge shuddered, and she reached for Riandel just in time to catch her hand and pull her back from the crack growing on the ground. A moment later the crack opened up more in front of Tristren and Riandel. On the other side of the slab of rock, Laithe was trying to move his no-longer-agile bulk away from the falling chunk Hain had brought down, but as he rolled away, it slid sideways and crushed his leg, pinning him there. He howled in pain.

What is happening right now!?

Hain began to slide down the surface toward the steel railing. Then the entire stone walkway gave out and collapsed, dropping Hain over the edge. A moment later, the rock that held Laithe immobile slipped away after him, dragging her elderly husband screaming like a small child into the abyss below them.

Move, Tris! Move!

She scooped up Riandel and ran back in the direction she had come, unwilling to let the renewed assault of heat and sunshine slow her escape. As the wall came back into view a few short steps later, she saw the servers holding her other two sons, preventing them from running to help.

In a few moments, the shaking stopped and the dust began to fall like mist. The group stood, staring at the tall stone structure. Nobody spoke. Tristren was the first to move. She handed off Riandel to Ekalamish and, ignoring their urging to stay away, stepped carefully around to the left side of the stone. The cushion was gone. The railing was twisted and torn down over the edge that fell away below what she could see. There, sitting on the remnants of the walkway was the still-sweating metal cup.

Tristran looked up at the place the slab had come loose in awe. Under the missing chunk a perfectly flat, smooth layer of stone faced her, shining in spots like a mirror. She looked over the rough edge of broken stones at her feet at the crumpled remains of her husband and eldest son and smiled ever so slightly.

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