James Axler – Bitter Fruit

“Your father?” Krysty repeated.

The boy nodded. “Foxglove. He was a healer. One of the best. Pepper killed him, though, at Prince Boldt’s request.”

“Have you any other family?” Krysty asked.

“None by blood. But there are those who will take me in if I manage the return home.”

“Why didn’t you go to them?” Ryan asked.

“I would have endangered them. Pepper and his seed heralds were following too close to me. And Bean.”

“So you chose to endanger us instead?” Ryan asked.

“I thought perhaps you were raiders. If I could get close enough before Pepper and his seed heralds overtook me, I planned to lose them during the skirmish. But by the time I reached you, I’d been wounded and was barely able to stand, let alone escape.”

Seeing the pain buried deep in the boy, Ryan felt he had to take away some of the brunt of his accusation. “It was a good plan. Mebbe it would have even worked.”

“They killed Bean before we had the chance to reach you.”

“We’re sorry to hear that,” Krysty said.

“I’d expected more of you. In numbers, I mean.”

“Looks like it worked out anyway,” Ryan said.

Tarragon looked up at him, his eyes filled with old grief and fresh guilt. “Except that the woman in your group is now missing.”

“What are the chances that she’s still alive?” Ryan asked, not pulling any punches. There wasn’t time.

“They took her alive?”

Ryan nodded.

“Then the chances are very good. For a time. Prince Boldt usually kills anyone he finds who stands against him.”

“Why was your father killed? For protecting you?”

Tarragon shook his head. “That wasn’t discovered until later. Wildroot is fragmenting.” The boy shivered.

Krysty reached down and pulled the blanket around his shoulders.

“Thank you,” Tarragon said.

“You said Wildroot is fragmenting,” Ryan reminded him.

“Yes.”

“What is Wildroot?” Krysty asked.

“What they call their ville,” Ryan answered. “By fragmenting, you’re talking about the rebellion?”

The boy nodded. “You know about this?”

“Gehrig told me.” Ryan knelt and picked up one of the boy’s boots. It was knitted of some fibrous growth, the strands thin and seeming to be tough and supple at the same time. He eased the boy’s foot into it.

“Gehrig?”

“The raider captain.”

“We never knew his name.”

Once the boot was on, Ryan tied it, trying not to think about the fact that traveling tonight could kill the boy before morning. J.B. was out now procuring horses for their escape. Ryan was still working out the details of that, but he figured with enough plas-ex, anything could be accomplished.

“Are you part of the rebellion?” Ryan asked.

“My father was.” Tarragon lifted his other foot weakly and shoved it into the boot Ryan offered.

“That’s why he was killed?”

“Yes.”

“Pepper found out.”

“The Prince did, but he sent Pepper out to kill him.”

“Is that going to stop the rebellion?” Ryan asked.

“No. It can’t. Prince Boldt is trying to bring about the Time of the Great Uprooting. If he is successful, it will be the death of us all anyway. Our only chance to live is to destroy him first. Before he can enact it.”

“What is the Time of the Great Uprooting?” Krysty asked.

“It’s a plague,” Tarragon answered in a voice that was just above a whisper. “It was designed by Prince Boldt’s father. It was supposed to be set free in the world in the event the Celtic peoples were threatened from without. The seeds of rebellion were already sown in Wildroot.” The boy shook his head. “The Prince’s ways are too harsh. Living things need space to grow. He’s allowed our people none of that.”

“Why?” Krysty asked.

“To keep our stock true to our roots,” Tarragon answered. “So that we may breed true and be the best of what is in our natures.”

“The people of Wildroot haven’t done that.”

“No. There were some who wanted children of their own instead of the vat-grown offspring Prince Boldt gave out in exchange for hard work and diligence.”

“So they had them,” Krysty said.

Ryan looked at his lover and saw that her hair had crept in on itself, lying tight against her scalp. He spared a glance out the window. The only light in the room was a small oil lantern in the back. From where he was standing, the moonlight outside was more revealing.