Summer afternoons were a treat for the people of the town. The golden hue of the slowly setting sun washed over well-tended fields and glinted off windows. Kids shrieked in their yards, dashed to and fro under the illogical law of a game only children can invent. Ice clinked into drinking glasses from a father dropping cubes into his glass of whiskey or his daughter’s lemonade. Porches creaked as the massive hunting dogs plopped down for a breather after a long day. For any outside observer, it was quixotic in a charming, easy way.
The towns in this part of the world knew better than to stretch their luck. When afternoon burned off into evening, everything packed up. Kids and dogs were rallied together and ushered inside. Clothes were brought in from the lines. Farmhands marched in from the fields with an hour of daylight still remaining, the sun’s orange rays reflecting off the tall scythes bobbing high above their shoulders. Whatever work needed doing, it would have to wait until the morning.
Night came slowly, and for that everyone was eternally grateful. Its paced approach gave the people time to prepare. Barns could be secured, windows shuttered, and doors bolted in the days’ last moments of light. As the sun eased below the horizon, shadows grew long. At first, they appeared merely curious. But as twilight settled over the land, they became something more menacing.
The apprentice stood on the packed road that led into town from the southeast. The town sat on a slight hill, and on clear days he could see clear to the next town two miles distant. As the shadows lengthened, seeping across the ground with a sense of inevitably, his thoughts pulled back from the matters of the day. It was not the time to have his concentration found wanting. It was the time to play his role as town protector, the newest apprentice of the Light Brigade.
Tok, Osa and Miki stood a few paces in front of the apprentice. To either side of the Brigade, a low stone wall encircled the town. In the day’s faded light, it was a barely seen mass, dark stone framed by dark grass. It protected the town with more than just stone, imbued with the power to repel what lurked just beyond the light. The wall was broken in three spots where roads entered the town. It was in each of these spots that, every night, the Light Brigade made their stand.
Time passed. Night fell.
Two hours past sunset. Full dark had overtaken the town. To the west, the sky was the deepest shade of blue possible before slipping into the black of night. He took a deep breath, trying in vain to slow his racing heart.
The Light Brigade stood in a line of three across the road. They appeared perfectly calm. This was not their first night guarding this road. These three men were old pros, and they knew what waited for them out there.
The apprentice’s hands became damp, and he wiped them on his pants. He took another deep breath and repeated calming chants to himself. It didn’t feel like it was helping. Unless it was, and without the calming refrains he would be awash in utter panic by now. That was a comforting thought.
Just then, a piece of the night broke off. It scurried forward with a soft sound, something halfway between a whisper and a scratch. It was just one at first, but more soon followed. All along the road, maybe twenty paces before the Brigade, the night fractured into small pieces. Creatures barely seen, splinters of the dark, began their assault.
Smoothly, with timing born of endless practice, the three men brought to bear their cannons. Each kicked the flint on the outside of the apparatus. Tok and Osa hunkered down at the sound of a great hiss. The night-creatures approached with speed, all whispers and scratching and terror. And then the spark ignited, and two cannons roared to life.
Infinite, tiny beads of fire shot out of the top of Tok’s cannon first. A moment later, Osa’s followed suit. Each man set his feet, one leg forward, balanced perfectly in the road. Sparks burst into the air and rained down on the road, coated it in light and temporary fire.
The sounds from the night-creatures changed, to a distressed whistle that sounded, to the apprentice, like the wind that coaxes wildfires through the underbrush. Some scattered, folding back into the wall of night beyond the reach of the newly-born light. Others were bathed in sparks and crumbled to dust.
Third down the line, Miki’s cannon misfired. The spark-shower sputtered out the bottom, and a cloud of white smoke blossomed around his legs. He kicked the flint again and spun his whole body around in a jerked motion. At his feet, intrepid night-creatures were buried in a pile of sparks and quickly turned to ash. Suddenly, the top of the cannon lit. He grimaced and turned his head, narrowly avoiding being blinded by the cannon as it came to life. Once his weapon rained light, he took up the classic stance.
On the road ahead, the wall of night recessed. Stray crawlers leapt back into its dark embrace. No more night-creatures broke from it. With stoic bravery, the Light Brigade held their cannons aloft, and the rain of sparks began to slow. For now, they’d repelled the attack.
A sense of profound awe swept over the apprentice. He’d been a quick study upon his joining up with the Brigade. Lessons had come easily to him, and he was congratulated by the Brigade officers for his concentration and engineering acuity.
None of it had been any kind of preparation for the battle itself. The night-creatures had, for a moment, seemed to fill the road, to be everywhere at once. And yet these three men had stood firm, had done their duty with resolute calm.
For his part, the apprentice was vibrating with energy. Adrenaline rushed through his veins. All he could think of was the people behind them, tucked away in their homes. Before tonight, he had been just like them, a sideline spectator. He’d valued the safety of the indoors when night fell because he was a good boy who had almost always listened to his parents. Safety came far from the darkness and the things that haunted the night. He had known it, for years, in his heart. Even as a student of the Brigade, that was the only logic that made any sense to him.
But that was gone now. He had never felt anything remotely close to how he felt in that moment. It was a powerful wave of emotions he was entirely unable to identify. But it felt, he realized with a smile, good.
He bounded forward when they motioned for him to reload. Fresh canisters rattled in the pack on his back. He dropped in front of Miki’s cannon and began to clear out the spent canister.
“That was intense!” the apprentice said, his voice breaking from a mixture of excitement and fear.
“What happened to my cannon?” Miki asked in an even tone. “Was it the canister or the cannon?”
The apprentice yanked out the old canister, pointed to a flaw and chucked it aside. “Bent supply line,” he said. He produced a new one from the pack and pointed to the same spot. “See this here? The smooth line? Look at the spent one. It’s got a kink in it.”
Miki nodded. “Well spotted.” He did not look down at the apprentice, but rather out at the road, vigilant for whenever the next attack would come.
“My heart is thumping,” the apprentice said, too excited to work in silence.
“It’s the adrenaline. You are too used to the safety of being inside.” Miki analyzed him succinctly but not necessarily dispassionately.
“Well it’s what we’re taught, isn’t it?” The apprentice finished the reload and pushed himself to his feet. He grabbed the spent canister and tucked it into the pack. “That old kid’s rhyme, ‘Staying alive means staying inside,’ right?”
Miki chuckled as he hoisted his cannon onto his shoulder. “What keeps you safe doesn’t keep you alive.”
He motioned to the others beside him. They needed the fresh canisters on the apprentice’s back. The apprentice nodded and hurried over to reload the other cannons. All the while, he turned over this new mantra in his mind, this thought that ran counter to everything he had ever been taught. At sunset that day, he would not have believed it. But he had not ever seen the Light Brigade in action, had not seen his own future burst brilliantly to life in front of his eyes.
He didn’t want to hide from the darkness, not now. His life was meant to be lived out here, beyond the safety of locked doors and stone walls. With a cannon of fire and light in his hands.
The Tall Tale Year 