Free Exiles of Forlorn by Sean T. Poindexter Page B

harder to get to the body. It only slows them down, though. The vigil keeps them completely safe, because the spirits won’t cross the living. It also gives them a chance to make sure they don’t send to ashes someone who wasn’t actually dead, just taking a long sleep.” Gargath sighed. “Unfortunately, Threestep has no relatives in the colony, and really didn’t have any friends. There’s a Plainsfolk woman he was seeing, but she’s inconsolable and wouldn’t be much good for a three-day vigil.”
    “Can’t one of the others do it?” asked Blackfoot. He must have meant one of the other Plainsfolk.
    “It’s a sacred duty,” explained Gargath, “There has to be some kind of bond between the fallen and the stander. Something more than just skin color. They value warriors particularly, and for a fallen one they prefer it be someone who has fought beside them in battle.”
    “I’ll do it.” We all stopped at once and looked at Uller. He was still pale and shaken, but looked quite resolute.
    “Did you know him?” asked Gargath. Uller shook his head. “Then why would you . . . oh, I understand.”
    “It wasn’t your fault, Uller.” Reiwyn touched his arm. I wasn’t going to get jealous of that. She was just being a good friend.
    “If I hadn’t gone up the trail . . .” He looked up to the mountains, avoiding our eyes.
    “You heard Arn,” said Antioc, referring to the shocked exchange between our fearless leader and Ferun upon our return. “The gluttons have never come this close to the colony. There was no way you could have known they’d be hunting there.”
    “Threestep died in battle,” I added, looking at Gargath. “That gets him into someplace fair in the next life, by their beliefs?” He nodded. “See? Even if it was your fault, you kind of did him a favor getting him killed like that.” Everyone but Uller looked at me with varying degrees of wide eyes and agape mouths. “I’m sorry; I’m bad at this.”
    “He deserves this,” Uller softly replied.
    “It shouldn’t matter,” said Reiwyn. “The whole point of the ritual is to make sure he’s really dead. He’s missing his head so the ritual is a little redundant. The Plainsfolk must make allowances for these kinds of things, especially for those who die in battle. Don’t they?” She looked at Gargath.
    “Not that I am aware of.” He scratched the back of his head and wrinkled his face at Uller. “I could ask the other Plainsfolk, but I’m pretty sure if he dies without the vigil, there’s no way to know if he’s reached the afterlife.”
    That didn’t help Uller much. I hadn’t seen him like this before. It was a bit of a surprise. He’d always been so cool to everyone. This was the first time I’d seen him express an emotion other than annoyance or amusement toward someone outside our little clique.
    “Then it must be me,” he resolved with a nod.
    “You’re going to sit under a dead person you barely know for three solid days?” I asked, incredulous. “You can barely function without twelve hours of sleep a night, how are you going to stay awake all that time?”
    “He won’t have to,” said Antioc before Uller could answer. “I’ll take half of it. He died saving my life, too.”
    Uller looked at him with a bit of surprise, but nodded and smiled.
    “I’ll take a watch,” added Reiwyn, “I don’t sleep much anyway.”
    “I definitely want one,” said Blackfoot, almost jumping into the middle of the group.
    Then everyone looked at me.
    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I didn’t even know him, and I don’t believe in this thing we’re supposed to do. Really, do any of you believe an evil spirit is going to steal his soul?”
    “What we believe isn’t the point.” Uller was stalwart. “It’s what Threestep believed. He gave his life to save us. To save you .” He gave me a long look.
    I wiped sweat off my brow. “Between the four of you, that should be enough. You don’t