YEAR OF THE FLEDGLING

3. Magda

magda

AND THE SEVEN ERADICATORS

After casting the infant’s father one last condemning scowl, Magda hurried toward the exit. The two oldest sons stepped forward as if they wanted to see their baby brother at least once before he was taken away, but with a swift growl from their sire, they scurried backward again.

Magda’s heart sank for them.

As soon as she was outside in the bitter elements of the cold night, she paused to tuck the child inside her cloak with her to keep him warm. But the wind was brutal and cut right through the thick material as if she were wearing cheesecloth.

The infant was not a fan of such conditions and became agitated. He was screaming in short, agony-filled bursts by the time they’d made it to the edge of town, and she still had nearly a mile to go yet.

What was worse, his crying made her milk come. Xia was barely three moon cycles old and hadn’t been weaned yet, so Magda’s breasts were full of the very nutrients this boy needed to survive.

Grinding her teeth, she hurried past the cemetery as the lightning flashed. Then she crossed the old arching stone bridge until she stepped onto a narrow dirt path she’d never traveled before, even though everyone knew exactly where it led.

The first wave of trepidation hit her then. But she shuddered through it and marched determinedly along, tripping over rocks and roots in the uneven roadway that wound its way steadily upward to the dark looming keep that sat frightfully close to the woods…where evil things dwelled.

She knew she was safe from the dark ones at this time of night. She’d heard they only attacked in daylight; something about the sun aggravating them and sending them into an irrational, bloodthirsty rage. But other wild animals lurked in the blackness, plus actual Eradicators lived out here.

Wincing when the rain began again, battering her face with stinging slaps of freezing pellets, Magda bowed her head, resolved to forge onward as she hoped with all her might that the Eradicators left her unharmed when they saw she was bringing them one of their own.

But they had to, right? They’d be punished for hurting a villager.

They weren’t supposed to go near women, really, but being a healer—even an apprenticing one—she was exempt from that singular law. So they’d be allowed to walk right up to her. Even touch her.

Her limbs began to tremble, and not just because of the dropping temperature. Maybe she should’ve let the master bring the babe up after all. She’d never spoken to an Eradicator before and had no idea how to even address one.

Beginning to think she should just turn around and head back, she glanced up to gauge the distance, only to gasp and grind to a startled stop.

She had arrived.

Well, she told herself, stiffening her spine with all the bravado she could muster. It would be foolhardy to turn back now. Might as well see this through.

The stone wall guarding the Eradicators’ watchtower was visible from the village, but she’d never realized how very tall it was until she was standing right before it and tipping her head back to ogle the fathomless expanse before her. Distant lightning flashed briefly, momentarily illuminating her view, which somehow made it look even larger and more ominous.

It had to be four or five times as tall as her, and Magda wasn’t a short woman. Swallowing uneasily at the intimidating sight, she studied the portcullis with its grid work of iron bars that kept her out.

A large bell hung above the latticed gate with a thick rope dangling from it. Magda took a deep breath and reached up on her toes for the rope with one hand as she held on to the bundle under her cloak with the other, and she pulled with all her strength.

When the bell rang, the baby jumped against her and whimpered fearfully, reassuring her that he was at least still alive.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she told him, swaying gently to rock him as she bit her lip and peered between the bars for any sign of life from within.

And then… A pair of large, oaken double doors opened from the stone watchtower before a hooded figure emerged, toting a lantern that he held up in front of him to see better.

Magda sucked in a breath and jerked a step back.

Rumors about the miscreant Eradicators spread rampantly through the village. In Starcast, they were considered to be murdering, lecherous ruffians and weren’t ranked much higher than the mindless, bloodthirsty monsters they fought.

Magda assumed most stories about them must be tall tales, designed to scare children and keep them in line. But still… Some must have a grain of truth to them, otherwise, how had they gained such a rubbish reputation to begin with?

As the cloaked form started toward her, it lifted its free hand to wave her forward.

“Just come in through the door on the side there,” a kind voice called. “It’s not locked. Dark ones can’t open latches.”

Teeth chattering and shivering uncontrollably, Magda nodded and took a step back so she could survey the stone wall near the vertical-opening gate to find such a door, but she had to wait until more distant lightning streaked across the horizon before she could see… There. Yes, there was a normal-sized door, set right in the wall.

She hurried toward it, eager to escape the elements. But as soon as she was inside, she had to pause and gape around her.

For some reason, she’d always assumed only the tall, stone watchtower sat within the walls of the Eradicators’ Keep, but it looked as if they had their very own community in here with easily half a dozen outbuildings.

“That’s the stables there,” she was told as she peered at the largest building on her right.

With a startled jump, Magda guiltily whirled back to the man, but all she could see of him was his hand poking from the sleeve’s end of his umber cloak as he motioned with his lantern. “Then there’s the barn, the pigpen, chicken shed, granary…”

Giving her a rundown of the place, the Eradicator went on, pointing toward everything as he led her back toward the watchtower. “We’ve a fish pond and herb and vegetable garden in the back, plus the training field, but of course, our living quarters are here in the tower with a communal space on the bottom level and private chambers on each floor up until there’s a spy scope room at the top.” As they reached the entrance, he easily pushed open one of the large, heavy doors and added, “Not that you’re here for a tour, I’m sure. So I guess I should be asking how we may be of assistance on this cold, stormy eve?”

As soon as he stepped inside, he flipped off his hood as if shaking away the rain and turned toward her, revealing a weathered, gray-headed man who looked quite ordinary.

Yet Magda pulled back from the entrance and gaped at him as if he were anything but.

She’d never beheld an Eradicator with his hood pulled down before.

Then again, the edict for them to remain cloaked and covered from head to toe was only for when they went out into public in the village, wasn’t it? Of course, they wouldn’t be required to cover themselves in their own home.

Still…

It shocked her to realize he was just a man, like any other old man she might encounter in town. For some reason, that confounded her the most. He did bear a long, terrible scar on his temple, but other than that, he looked like a sweet, doting old man.

“Land sakes,” he cried when he peered back at her. Hurrying forward, he gently took her arm to usher her inside. “Poor thing; you’re soaked through and shivering too. Are you lost, little lamb?”

“No, I—I…” Magda stepped over the threshold and into the darkened interior, only to jar to another stop when she saw the rest of them.

All men, all older than her, all scarred as if they’d spent their lives fighting—one of them was even missing an arm—they gaped back, looking similarly shocked to find a woman in their midst. None, however, were the horrific devils she’d always assumed they would be after hearing all the village talk. There was nary a horn, tail, or forked tongue in sight. They were just normal, gray-headed, old men.

There were seven of them in total, counting the one who had answered the door.

The other six were seated at a long wooden table, eating their supper by lamplight. As they blinked back at her in stunned silence, the door-opener greeted, “I am Orsando, milady. Welcome to our home.”

Magda turned back to him just as the child she had hidden in her cloak gave a broken squall.

“O-oh!” he started in surprise as he glanced at the lump under her clothing. “You’re not alone.”

“No.” She shook her head and started to untangle the babe, glad he’d made it through the trek. “I…I have a fourth son of a third daughter here for you.”

As she struggled to work the child free, the men at the table glanced at each other and murmured their shock before they all lurched to their feet to scamper curiously closer.

“Do you really?” Orsando asked, lifting onto his toes to see better. “Well, I’ll be. This is a treat. It’s been years since we’ve had a new recruit. These days, third daughters stop the pregnancy as soon as they realize they’re carrying a possible fourth son or they drown the little nipper at birth.”

Magda bit her lip and glanced at him guiltily, hoping he couldn’t tell that this child’s fate had almost ended that very way.

“Well, let’s have a look at him, shall we?” one of the other Eradicators instructed gruffly, twirling his finger to encourage Magda to hurry. “Stop your dawdling, girly.”

“Krazzle,” yet another reprimanded in a sharp tone. “Patience. Can’t you see, she’s working as quickly as she can.”

The scolder had such a commanding tone about him, Magda had to guess he was the one who led their troop.

When he realized she’d turned her attention his way, he bowed his head to her politely. “I am Jarrott, milady. Chief Eradicator. And I thank you for bringing this fourth son to us. It’s an honor.”

She blushed slightly, not ever having imagined that the Eradicators could be so polite and cordial, but also attractive. None of the sinister things she’d heard about them seemed to be true.

“Here he is,” she said hoarsely and stepped forward to carry the babe to the table. The men parted so she could lay him out for all to see. As she did, they stepped closer, murmuring excitedly among themselves with their gazes focused intently on the new addition.

“My, he’s a wee one,” one of them said in hushed reverence before glancing at Magda. “When did you birth him, ma’am?”

She lifted her face in surprise. “Oh… No,” she said. “He’s not mine. I… I’m the new healer’s apprentice—Magda—and I—”

“Benson’s finally got himself an apprentice, does he?” one of the others interrupted in interest. “Good. It’s about time the old coot started training a replacement. We were worried he’d keel over any day, and we’d have no one left to tend to us.”

“And we’re so very pleased to meet you,” Orsando rushed to add, smiling gently. “Magda, was it?”

“Y-yes.” She faltered at his overzealous politeness, then answered more firmly, “Yes.” She smiled with quivering lips. “I’m pleased to meet you, too.” She curtsied slightly, feeling ridiculous when the men merely gaped at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Anyway…” She cleared her throat and motioned to the child. “I was assisting Master Benson this evening with a birth. But the mother and father didn’t…”

She swallowed and winced, ashamed to even say the words aloud.

Krazzle snorted derisively. “Of course, they didn’t.” He glanced at Magda with anger boiling in his eyes. “I don’t suppose they even bothered to name him before giving him the boot, did they?”

“I…” Magda blinked down at the boy and sighed. “Why, no. No, they didn’t.”

“Poor tyke.” Orsando shook his head sympathetically as he reached out to gently tug on the babe’s toes. “Now we’re not even going to know what name to put on his grave marker.”

Magda recoiled in horror. “His grave marker?” she gasped. “Whatever do you mean? You’re not seriously going to kill him, are you? Just because he doesn’t have a name?”

She was fully prepared to swoop the infant back into her arms and run, but Krazzle snorted. “Of course not, but that doesn’t mean he’s got any chance of surviving the night. Not here with the likes of us, anyhow.”

When Magda frowned in confusion, Jarrott explained, “We’ve never gotten a wet nurse to agree to come up here and help us wean our newborns. And our luck with nursing them ourselves is horribly…low. Plus, our cow just died, the goats are all male, and the village rations our milk to one jug every two moon cycles.”

Magda swallowed just as her breasts tingled, reminding her how full of milk they were. She needed to get home to her daughter and feed Xia. Soon.

But instead of nodding in sympathetic understanding and backing away from the men, letting them deal with their problems on their own, she set a proprietary hand on the babe’s chest. “I can feed him.”

The men looked up in surprise.

She nodded, growing more certain of her rash decision the more she thought it through. “I have a young daughter at home,” she explained. “Still on the teat. She gets more milk than she can handle. She could share with your little one. No problem.”

Krazzle furrowed his brow in disbelief. “You’d have to come here daily. For moon cycles. To the Eradicators’ Keep.”

“It’s a kind offer, milady,” Orsando told her with a grateful nod. “But consider your reputation. You seem like a caring soul. We’d hate to besmirch your good name.”

Magda looked down at the newborn, who was beginning to fuss on the table and kick his feet. He needed to be fed.

“He’ll perish if I don’t,” she said simply and scooped the boy into her arms. “What would be the benefit of a good name if I only used it to let a child die?” Glancing up at the men, she lifted her brows expectantly. “So…? Is there a rocking chair nearby where I might sit and feed him or do you expect me to do it standing here in front of you all?”

“O-of course!” Jarrott immediately swooped out an arm. “Right this way, ma’am. And we thank you. Thank you so much for your help.”

All seven men hopped into action, eager to do her bidding and show her where she could take care of the young one in private.

Once they led her into a separate room full of rocking chairs that formed a half circle around a warm fire lit in the hearth, each man paused to thank her again for what she was doing before they each stepped out, in turn, to let her have some time alone with the babe.

And then she started the process of feeding him. Once she encouraged the infant to latch on, he sucked greedily. Magda smiled down at his small face as he drank. Then she stroked her hand over his downy hair. He was such a calm, precious thing. She still couldn’t believe his own parents hadn’t wanted him, not even for a short time.

They were idiots, she decided. And she began to hum a quiet, soothing tune, needing the boy to know that someone still wished for his safekeeping.

Once he finished eating and had fallen asleep against her, she covered herself and rose slowly to her feet. Gently kissing his small forehead, she returned him to the front room to find the rest of the Eradicators once again seated at the main table, their meal finished and cleared away as they talked quietly amongst themselves.

When she appeared in the doorway, they rose courteously to their feet.

“I’ve always liked the name Theron,” she announced after a small clearing of her throat. “I think it’s a fine name, if you need something to call him.”

Jarrott stepped forward and bowed respectfully. “It is a fine name, indeed,” he agreed. “So Theron he shall be.”