There was no sign of wizard castings among the dead. The army had done this without the help of the wizard corps. Did that let General Baltacco off? Quint couldn’t see the general restraining the wizard corps.
With a heavy heart, Quint rode into his father’s work yard. A horse lay dead in the yard, but Quint found his parents killed in the main room of the cottage. Quint took his father’s sheath knife that had laid on the mantle for as long as Quint could remember and sighed as he looked at his parents for the last time.
He staggered out into the yard as Quint tried to make sense of it all.
“Did you do this?” Quint asked. “Did you ask the Vinellians to do this?”
“No. Soldiers shed blood. Commoners are innocent,” Colleto said.
“Then, this was likely done to pin this monstrous act on your army,” Quint said.
“To energize the Racellians against me?”
Quint nodded. “That’s why the willots were slaughtered along with the hubites. You don’t care about anyone.”
“But that’s not correct.”
“If anyone hears about this slaughter, what will they assume?”
Colleto stared at Quint. “What they perceive as the worst,” Colleto said, visibly disturbed.
“I’d like to bury my parents,” Quint said.
“I’m afraid you can’t. Whoever did this will come through here again and would know you’ve returned,” Colleto said.
Quint wiped the tears from his eyes. “Then I suggest you turn around and leave through the forest. It may have been a mistake to go into some of the villages leaving possible evidence that you were here, but I’d make sure that there wasn’t a rogue Vinellian army at work. Then prepare for the worst,” Quint said.
Quint couldn’t shake the sickness he felt, but as they rode through the forest that linked village to village and village to town, Quint took off.
“I’ll set the record straight!” Quint yelled back to Colleto.
“Let him go,” Colleto said. “I know Tirolo well enough to know he had nothing to do with this, and there is no small chance he can establish the fact that we had nothing to do with this.”
Chapter Twenty-Eigh
t
Quint rode through the forest and worked his way toward the west side of Racellia before heading north toward Bocarre. He had his uniform bundled in his bag along with the Gussellian style clothes he currently wore. That had to change.
He stole clothing from drying lines and tossed his Gussellian clothes down outhouse holes. He lived off farmers’ personal gardens and drank from streams.
Eventually the forests stopped where the plains that fed Bocarre began.
“Stop right there, hubite,” a farmer said, pointing the sharp tines of a pitchfork toward Quint.
The confrontation shocked Quint into realizing that he could be hunted due to his race. Quint took off, again and headed toward the coast where the forest began again.
Quint spent a day searching for food in the woods and found a meadow of peat bogs. He’d seen his mother dye wool brown using peat water. The thought of her made Quint catch his breath as he remembered her sprawled on the floor of their cottage.
The water was dark enough to make a stain for his face and hands. He ended up removing his shirt and darkened everything above his belt. His hair took to the stain and his only problem were his light blue eyes.
The disguise wouldn’t stand close inspection, but the first thing in an observer’s mind wouldn’t be “hubite.”
Quint cast a sharpening spell on the knife and was able to put a rabbit to sleep. It didn’t seem fair, but he took the rabbit’s life. He had skinned plenty of rabbits in his youth and soon he was sitting in front of a campfire watch the rabbit cook.
With a full stomach, Quint kept to the forest and soon came to a small road that led into Bocarre. He joined a line of farmers and when he approached the city gate, he dismounted and walked his horse between a line of wagons, keeping his head down.
Just like that he was inside Bocarre’s walls. Now, he had to decide what he would do. Quint realized that he had returned to Bocarre without a plan with perhaps the entire government looking for him.
His flat was sure to be watched. He was tempted to go back to the forest, but that was a very short-term solution. After finding a stable and paying for two weeks board for his horse with the rest of his money, Quint walked to the international quarter and sat in a small park. Perhaps he could pass for a gran who were darker than their cousins the hubites. Possibilities ran through Quint’s head, but he couldn’t find one that showed promise.
He looked at the buildings around the square and that gave Quint an idea. He patiently waited on a bench on the other side of the street and spotted Calee Danko walking down the steps onto the pavement. Quint followed her and paused when she went in a lady’s shop.
Quint couldn’t follow her into an establishment like that when he looked a bit rough after his ride from southeast Racellia.
Calee walked out and ducked into a general store. That was a better place. Quint walked across the street and entered the general store. Calee stood looking at spools of string.
“Can I help you?” Quint said.
She looked behind her. Her face filled with alarm at the stranger.
“It’s me, Tirolo,” Quint said quietly.
“It is you!” she said. “Let me buy this and we can go back to our flat.”
