Free Prisoner of Fate by Tony Shillitoe

voice of an old man.
    The dreams remained with her as she rode out of the village before sunrise with her silent Ranu escort and she puzzled over their meanings. Clearly she was meant to return to Western Shess, just as she knew that one day she would inevitably travel east to a strange ruin,and that she was fated in her future to face something terrible from the battlements of a castle. The reasons why she would do these things eluded her, but the glimpses of the future—that was what she’d learned through her experiences that these dreams were—only made her frightened and more determined to avoid them.
    The Claarn-to-Marella road was busy with war traffic—marching soldiers in white uniforms, wagons of goods, grey weapons on carriages. Occasionally she spied Andrak people, some going about their daily business, some carrying personal belongings or pulling them behind on dogcarts, and most greeted her as she searched for familiar faces, but she recognised no one. Low grey clouds closed in the world, adding gloom to her increasing anxiety as she passed through the familiar green landscape, and when she spotted the charred ruins of a farmhouse a short distance before Marella, and saw thin smoke rising above the low hills, she knew that Liam Woodburner’s warning was grounded in truth. It wouldn’t affect Emma , she told herself. My daughter has no cause against the Ranu. But fragments of the dream that prompted her to leave Lightsword flashed into crystal clarity and she tightened her grip on her horse’s reins as her troop crested the last gentle slope before descending into Marella.
    Ranu troops were everywhere, lounging in groups, marching in columns, standing on relaxed guard at street corners, their white uniforms oddly pristine, as if the dust and sweat of daily duty couldn’t stain the material. And there was evidence of a brutal battle—ashes of buildings, scattered grave mounds, two corpses swinging from ropes by the ruin of the courthouse. Meg blanched at the sight of the crass display of Ranu justice, the corpses dangling, heads to one side, dishevelled dirty clothes and bloated bodies. One worethe remnants of the Andrak uniform, a tattered dark-green coat over dirt-stained cream trousers. The other was naked.
    She urged her horse forward, steering through the troops, ignoring the protests from soldiers she nearly trampled, and broke into a canter as she headed for the intersection and the road along which her cottage stood. Her accompanying guides followed dutifully, although one stopped to talk to three soldiers who tried to stand in her way at the intersection and were brushed aside. As she galloped towards her home her stomach churned. Ashes and charred wood. No! she silently pleaded, her arms weakening. No! She wrenched at the reins and fell from her mount, stumbling three paces before she collapsed into the destruction of her flower garden. She pushed to her feet, and plunged into the ruined cottage, burnt door and wall frames like blackened skeletons, sinking into the ashes. ‘Emma!’ she sobbed. ‘Emma!’ she screamed, while her Ranu escort silently dismounted on the road.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    ‘ T om came back,’ Dyan said quietly as she stroked Meg’s hair. ‘He came with fifteen men from the Andrak army. There was Tim Woodbearer and Letta’s son, Kain, and they came back to protect the town from the Ranu. We were all excited to see them, even knowing that the Ranu were advancing and our government troops were being beaten. Our boys were home. We’d been waiting for them. Emma—Emma was so happy to see Tom.’ Dyan’s hand trembled as she lifted it briefly from Meg’s head and tears glittered in her eyes. She glanced at the five women in her parlour who were silently weeping, using their handkerchiefs to wipe away the persistent tears. Letta, leaning against the wooden mantelpiece, forced a weak smile.
    Dyan lowered her hand to Meg’s head on her lap and gently stroked her dark hair.