Chapter 1(c)

"How could anyone do this?" He asked himself. "What manner of being causes so much needless devastation and pain?"
Delmarf glanced back toward the barrel, hoping that he hadn't spooked the child. He could see that she was still there, understandably frightened. His logical self was yelling at him to get out of this place, that this child was none of his concern. Delmarf usually listened to this practical advisor. He was thirty-five years old, which is old for a human, and he credited his longevity to listening to reason. He had survived many awkward and potentially unhealthy situations simply because he had always followed his inner counselor's number one rule: "It is none of your business, so stay out of it!" While he debated within himself about what he should do, he caught another glimpse of the child. She was straining to look at her mother. The look on the child's face was a mix of utter sadness and intense longing. It was clear to Delmarf that the child wished more than anything in the world to be with her mother right now. That look did him in.
"Caution be cursed! I will help this child, even if it is the death of me," he uttered.
Having finally committed himself to the rescue of this traumatized girl, he moved quickly. He did not want to give his practical side time to talk him out of helping her. He methodically retrieved a torch from Arto and lit it. He wanted to show the child who he was and to let her see that he was no threat to her. Out of the corner of his eye, he kept watch of her, marking her mood.
"Now for the tricky part," he thought. "I need to remember the prayer Ban'helai used at my mother's burial."
He thought that if the young one saw him showing respect for her mother, that she might begin to trust him. He knew, however; that he had to be extremely careful. If he treated the woman's body in any way that the child could mistake for harming it, not only would he lose any chance at trust, he might also wind up with a rock hitting him in the head. He removed two candles from his pack. Then he grabbed a vial of oil and a small pouch containing some Likial petals. He lit both candles and placed one at the woman's head and one at her feet. Using his limited halfling vocabulary, he began praying for the woman's soul. He knelt and raised his hands toward the sky. As he commended her to the All-Father's eternal care, he noticed that the girl was watching him intently. He could tell by her expression that she was trying to figure out what he was doing. Delmarf had her undivided attention. Now for the crucial part, he had to turn her over so he could anoint her with the oil and the Likial petals. His eyes filled with tears as he gently turned her over. He truly grieved for this poor woman. As Delmarf got her on her back, he watched the little girl walk slowly toward them. She seemed oblivious to his presence. She was fixed solely on her mother. She knelt down and, with tear stained lips, kissed her face. She began to sob again, but this time it wasn't the anguished sobs of guilt or loss. She seemed to be kissing her mother good-bye. The sadness in her was profound, but it seemed to him that she understood that her mother was gone. He let some of the Likial petals fall into her open hand as he finished the ritual. She let them spill from her hand onto her mother. While she completed this painful ceremony, he took stock of her. He noticed that she had blood on her right shoulder. Every time she moved that arm, he could see her wince. Delmarf finished the prayer and stood up. He stepped back a few paces and waited in silence as the girl embraced her mother. She stood up and faced him. Grief clearly oozed from her expression, but along with it he saw fear and confusion. She looked at him long and hard. To Delmarf, she seemed to be trying to decide how she was supposed to feel about this stranger standing in front of her.
He spoke then, "Little one, I am Delmarf. I want to help you." A look of confusion clouded her face momentarily and he feared that she did not understand the only dialect of halfling that he knew. Then the look was gone and she replied, "What are you, and how come you talk like me?"
At first, he didn't understand what she wanted to know when she asked what he was. Then it dawned on him. She had probably never seen a human before. Humans are not very populous and they don't usually travel far from their homes.
"I am a human. I learned to talk like you from some friends."
"Why are you here? Are you friends with those bad people that hurt my mother?" She asked with a quiver in her voice.
"Not at all, dear. I don't know who did this to you, but I am no friend of anyone that could cause so much pain and sadness. I am here because I travel around selling things to folks, like herbs and grasses and tools."
The little girl did not say anything for awhile. She just stared back and forth between Delmarf and her mother. The sun had fully set now, and Delmarf was anxious to leave.
"What is your name?" he inquired.
"My name is Wemael."
"Wemael, now that is a pretty name. Would you let me tend to that?" Delmarf asked, pointing to her shoulder.
" I guess so, " she agreed with a tremor in her voice.
Delmarf could tell that the pain was growing, as was her uncertainty. He made sure that he moved slowly and talked to her as he worked.
"Wemael, I am going to clean the blood off your shoulder. I have a leaf from a special plant that will make the pain go away that I am going to lie on your cut. I have to cut your sleeve away so I can do that, ok?" He asked her even as he cut it off with his stone dagger.
"O.K." She managed to squeak out in response.
"Good, Wemael, Now I am going to wrap this strip of cloth around your shoulder to keep the leaf in place, ok?" Again he asked while he continued to work and again she said ok. It only took about ten minutes for him to finish dressing her wound. The Ectash leaf began working immediately. He could see in her expression that the pain was diminishing.
"Wemael, I think we should leave your village. I do not think that this a good place for a young girl like you to be alone. Do you have any family that..." Delmarf's voice trailed off, not wanting to finish his question. He could not bring himself to ask her if any of her family had survived this slaughter. "Have you heard anyone else since earlier today?"
Wemael began to cry, "No one is here, except us."
"It will be alright," Delmarf assured her, as he placed his arm around her shoulder. While he tried to comfort her, he considered how they were going to get away from Awktowon. He know his earlier plan of taking that side path would not work. It was pitch dark and leading his mule and a traumatized little girl into that unknown dark forest would be insane. He could not set up camp and build a fire anywhere near this abomination. The stench was growing stronger and the fire might attract unwanted visitors. Any of the depraved creatures that had destroyed this village wanting to re-examine their handiwork would be traveling on the road he had used earlier, so that was out. He was at his wit's end when he remembered that these halflings took their baskets and fish to other settlements by the river. They traveled sown the Mirator all the way to Boknor on flat skiffs. He was certain that these skiffs were big enough to carry Arto, Wemael and himself.
"Wemael, can you show me the way to the docks? There must be some boats still there, right?"
"I don't know if the boats are there or not. I don't know what happened anywhere else in town, only here." She replied with a tear coming to her eye as she glanced at her mother.
"We need to leave here. It is not safe for us to be here any longer. I have a friend in Boknor. He will let us stay with him until we can figure what else to do, but we need to leave right now. I want you to take me to the docks, so I can find us a boat. Can you do that?"
Crying softly, Wemael replied, " I don't want to leave my mother. There is no one to look after her if I leave."
"Child, I know this is hard, but your mother has moved on. I think all she would want for you right now is for you to be safe. We have already committed her to the All-Father and He will take care of her. We must take care of us, so we must go." With that he took her hand and stood her up.
"Wait, I want to cover her up with her blanket, " she exclaimed and wriggled free of Delmarf's hand. She darted back to the hovel. He could only watch and hold back his tears. She re-emerged moments later form the ruined structure with an elaborately embroidered blanket. She laid it over her mother, head to toe. Before covering her face, she kissed it once more. "Now, we can go."
Without asking, she slipped her hand into Delmarf's and moved off toward the docks. Even in the pale light that his torch provided, Delmarf was able to see how much destruction had been done to this formerly peaceful village. It sickened him. He noticed that Wemael tightened her grip on his hand, almost as a way to make the tears stay away. She did not give into the grief that must have been washing over her. She was witnessing the end of the world as she had known it. They left the main road and traveled on a smaller path that quickly left the village proper behind. They traveled just a short distance on this path through the marsh. They were accompanied in this trip by the sounds of the area, frogs, cranes,and howtars. Apparently, these animals had survived the marauders and decided that life should resume. When they reached the dock area, Delmarf's last hope crashed to the ground. The entire dock area had been destroyed. Not a single boat was intact; even the dock itself was full of holes or broken up, or burned. Wemael allowed herself a single whimper at the sight. Then she just stood there looking at him.
"Wemael, I don't know what to do now. There doesn't seem to be any boats left." Delmarf remarked dejectedly.
"You said you wanted the docks. I took you to the docks..." She began, but Delmarf interrupted her,
"No, child, I am not mad at you."
"I know that," she replied before he could go on. " I just meant that I did not know that all you wanted was a boat. My father's is hidden just a little ways from here. I will go get it."
Delmarf's hopes rose when she spoke of the boat, but he could not let here go off by herself. "Wemael, you can not go out there alone. I will come with you."
" You can not take your animal where I am going. I will be right back." Before he could object again, she was off, splashing right into the marsh. He lost sight of her after about ten feet. He waited worriedly for her return. He walked around the dock, craning his neck trying to get a glimpse of where Wemael had gone. Time seemed to slow down. He was on the verge of panic, fearing the worse, when he heard sounds coming toward him in the water. He didn't see Wemael until she was almost at the dock. Watching her bring the skiff to the dock, he could tell she was a marsh halfling. She might have been struggling with the pole used to move the skiff because she was small, but it was obvious that she knew what she was doing.
"See, here it is!" She announced triumphantly as she pulled up along one of the few parts of the dock still intact. She was beaming, as if to say, 'See, I can help.'
"You are something else, Wemael," Delmarf told her with a pleased chuckle. "Thank you. Let me get Arto onboard and we will be off.'
Most donkeys would fight tooth and hoof being taken onto a skiff and Arto would have been no exception. This time, though; he moved onto that skiff like he was going into the most beautiful patch of grass. He seemed to sense the urgency to leave this place and this looked like the only option. After everyone was safely aboard, Delmarf took over the poling duties. Wemael guided them through the marsh and into Mirator. Fortunately for this group of travelers, the Mirator is a wide, calm river at the marshes, so they had no problem getting on track for Boknor. The moon finally broke through the clouds lighting up the river. Delmarf watched Wemael as they pulled free of the marshes. He could tell she was struggling with her feelings. He moved over to her and hugged her, telling her that it was alright to cry. She snuggled close to him and softly sobbed herself to sleep