The Fire and the Fog by David Alloggia

large, fluted
barrel certainly gave the soldiers more pause than Johan and his
broken chair.
    ‘Get out of here you lot’, the tavern keep
said, motioning the soldiers towards the door with the barrel of
his gun. His voice brokered no debate, no argument, and the gun in
his hands brokered even less.
    ‘Right,’ said one of the less drunk soldiers
as he sheathed his sword, ‘We were just leavin’ anyhow.’ He spat at
Johan’s feet as he turned, but he still left the tavern, followed
shortly by the rest of the soldiers. Two of the soldiers grabbed
the hurt one from off the floor, hauling him to the door by his
shoulders. He seemed to be trying to stand, but he was clearly
still too shaken up to do so, and it was only the arms of his two
allies that kept him on his feet.
    As the last soldier left, the innkeeper
lowered his gun, and wiped the pooling sweat off his brow with the
back of one shaking hand.
    ‘You had all best get out of here too,’ he
said, laying the blunderbuss on the bar’s countertop, ‘‘fore they
come back.’
    Johan was already motioning to his family;
getting the children carried, the upturned chairs put right,
getting them and all their parcels piled quickly at the door.
    He stopped in front of the shorter, older
tavern keep before they left, laying a hand on the other man’s
shoulder.
    ‘Thanks’ he said, offering a small pouch of
coins with his free hand,
    ‘Don’t mention it’ the portly man replied,
but he took the pouch anyways.
    Then the family was out the door, hitching
Marmot to the wagon quickly, and the next thing Erris knew, they
were bouncing away over the cobblestone roads of the village,
leaving at a much swifter pace than they had come. It was a flurry
of activity as they left the tavern, and Erris could barely keep up
with it. She was sure she was missing something too. The soldiers
were nowhere to be seen when they left the tavern, and her brothers
and father kept glancing worriedly at each other. Erris didn’t even
remember to ask what they had been discussing in the tavern; any
thought of the family’s hushed conversation had vanished the moment
the soldiers’ harassment had started.
    Erris lay down in the now empty back of the
wagon, Joahn and Boll beside her, and lay staring at the night sky,
her mind racing as the wagon trundled over the worn cobblestones on
its way out of the village.

Pain

    I
     
    Considering all that had happened that day,
it was no wonder that Gel slept poorly. No sooner had he flopped
onto his bed and closed his eyes then he saw Sheane’s face, covered
in tears, running away from him. He tried to catch her, but the
grass was long, and it caught at his pants as he ran, tripping and
slowing him. It felt like the ground was grabbing him and pulling
him down, trying to swallow him. But Sheane in her flowing dress
kept getting further away, her face buried in her hands, her sobs
slowly getting more and more faint until they disappeared
completely. He could still see her though, her hair flowing in the
wind as she ran from him. The grass didn’t touch her at all, even
as it rose around his legs and twined around his hands. He tried to
hack at it with his sword, but it was really a lute, and it
wouldn’t cut.
    Gel didn’t understand how she was still
running. The grass was low around her feet, but it was almost up to
his neck now, and he couldn’t break free. He could see every step
she made, every step further from him, but he couldn’t reach her,
he couldn’t even reach out to her anymore.
    He knew it was because he had kissed Mae.
Sheane was sad and angry, because Mae had told her, and now she was
running away from him and he would never get to see her again. And
then he saw Mae.
    There was no sun in the sky, just Mae. There
she stood above him, at once giant and tiny, and perfect. She was
smiling down at him, the light of her light blue eyes lighting his
world in place of the sun, and she smiled as she turned and started
to unbutton her