The Lord of the Plains

by Sarah Chapman

Chapter 3

  Living in the settlement was in some ways very different to Riley’s previous life, though in other ways much the same. Different, in that there were two legs everywhere. Two legs her size, two legs Aerlid’s size. And they were not the same as the wild creatures. They talked and lived in houses and wore clothes. Riley and Aerlid did not live in a house. They had a camp between the edge of the forest and the village, just prior to the first house. Their food was much the same as always, to Aerlid’s disappointment. These people did not have fields or livestock. If they had ever had such things they had long since been destroyed by the lord of this land and his men. In fact, the diet of the villagers was little different to what Aerlid and Riley ate. If they did have things not from the forest they hid them well and certainly did not share them with the outsiders.

  Riley was wary of the large two legs. She had seen the earth open at the roar of the beast (his name was Olef), but the little two legs did not look much faster or stronger than her. Those ones were safer until she understood the ways of these creatures, and whether they were to be feared or not.

  Aerlid spent most of his time in the village, talking with and helping the other villagers. The rest of the time he spent hunting and taking care of their camp (Riley of course had to help with such things), and teaching Riley. He was different here than in the wild. He had paled and shrunk, become smaller and weaker seeming than he actually was. And he no longer sang to the moon. Riley noted that it had happened, understood instinctively that the two legs feared them less because of this, and she thought no more of it.

  Riley learnt many strange and disturbing things from the little two legs. Rarely did the girl display much curiosity. When she did it was usually to learn about whether a new thing was dangerous or not, and how might she fight or flee if it became necessary? But here the world was so different that she was forced to spy and listen carefully. At night she crept silently between the houses and peered through windows, or when they were boarded up and she could see little through the cracks she just listened. The two legs did not see her, and that made her happy.

  One day she crept back to the camp, carefully lest the possibly dangerous two legs sought to catch her off guard while she was retreating. Aerlid was sitting by the fire, warming his hands. He gave her a look of mild curiosity as she approached before turning back to the fire.

  ‘Are you my father?’ She asked.

  Aerlid’s attention swung firmly back to the girl, he hesitated before asking, ‘do you know what a father is?’

  An uncertain look came over her face. She had heard and seen things, and discovered that males and females did unsettling things together, which resulted in the small two legs. The small two legs created by the large ones, tended to live with them and be looked after by them. ‘You can’t be my mother…’ she said hesitantly.

  ‘Oh can’t I?’ Aerlid said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. The girl’s eyes flicked towards his and narrowed. She had come to recognize that tone.

  ‘No Riley, I am not your father.’ Aerlid relented.

  Riley nodded slightly to show her understanding, and then folded herself gracefully down until she was sitting cross legged on the ground.

  ‘Do you want a father?’ Aerlid asked.

  Riley looked at him blankly.

  Aerlid sighed. Her lack of imagination was baffling at times, he wondered if she would be the same had he raised her among people and not in the wild. ‘You know animals have mothers and fathers too, Riley.’ Aerlid said, his eyes back on the fire.

  ‘That’s different.’

  ‘How is that different?’ he asked, somewhat surprised she had picked this up.

  ‘They aren’t like me.’ and she grinned. ‘I’m smarter than them.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  Riley nodded vigorously.

  Aerlid determined not to think any more about how her mind worked. Dinner needed to be cooked and Riley needed to be kept from putting dirt in the pot when he wasn’t looking.

  Aerlid watched Riley play with the gemeng children, a slight frown on his face and a crease between his brows.

  Riley hovered around the edge of the group, skirting out of reach of the other children whenever they came close. As he watched a large, hairy child shoved another to the ground. He had seen the same behaviour with the adults. The children were really just mimicking their parents.

  When Riley returned to the camp she was tense and wary. Her eyes darted around, as if she expected someone to jump out and attack her. Despite her discomfort, at least she had not drawn her sword on the other children. The gemengs had been suspicious of their weapons; her child sized sword and his, worn beneath his coat. Gemengs did not have weapons like this. That would require material, and the skill to shape it, and the gemengs had neither.

  ‘How fast can you climb?’

  ‘I can climb faster than you!’

  ‘Well I can go higher!’

  Riley frowned at the small two legs- children- as they argued. There was an undercurrent of hostility in the banter that she was well aware of. She was reserved and quiet among the children as she tried to learn their ways.

  One of the smaller, bristly children sprung up onto the tree they were gathered around. ‘I’ll show you! I can climb faster and higher than you!’

  One of the children shoved Riley suddenly. ‘You go!’

  Riley glanced at the shover warily and approached the tree. ‘Climb, climb, climb!’

  Surrounded by chanting children, bristly and skinned, she saw no option, and no real reason, not to do as they insisted.

  Riley bounded up onto the first branch of the tree. Then with a laugh the others joined and they were all racing to the top, or as high as they dared to go.

  Riley had never climbed a tree with so many others. She stopped and paused, balked when she saw another on the branch she wished to jump too, and so she was much slower than usual.

  She was about half way up and frustrated. She looked up at the branch above. A skinned child (like her!) was balancing on it. Riley frowned. She didn’t want to wait. They took too long and she liked climbing! She sprung off the branch she was on, her fingers latching firmly onto the higher branch. The child glanced down and their eyes met. Riley was about to swing herself up. He raised his bare foot. Her mouth opened in an ‘O’ of surprise as he stepped down hard on her fingers.

  She slipped. She could see him standing. Then he turned and jumped to the next branch. She was falling. Her fingers scraped upon the next branch down but couldn’t hang on. The next, the next, the next. The ground was coming closer. With a thump she landed on her feet. She landed awkwardly, her ankle buckling under the weight. Her hip hit the hard ground, cushioned by the hilt of her sword that was no cushion at all. She went down with a cry of pain.

  Her breath came hard. Pain throbbed in her leg, her side. Sweat broke out on her skin. The tree was above. They were in it, climbing climbing, climbing. She swallowed and awkwardly pushed herself up, all her weight on her right side. She sucked air in, tried to calm her breathing. She began hopping away, her back prickling. What if they saw?

  Hop, hop, she hopped away, using trees and bushes for support when she could.

  When she got back to their camp her chest was heaving. With disappointment and a little fright she looked around and saw Aerlid was not there. Riley glanced around quickly, her mouth dry, looking for somewhere to hide until he returned. If the little two legs couldn’t be trusted neither could the big two legs.

  Riley hopped and struggled away from the village and towards the forest. She found a tree and some bushes and hid herself where she could see the camp.

  And she waited.

  Aerlid returned about an hour later. It felt a long time to Riley. Her ankle and side were throbbing. She was thirsty and tired and scared. Riley struggled from her hiding place and approached him. He noticed her quickly. ‘Riley, what is it?’ He asked, his eyes narrowing as he came towards her.

  ‘Tree, fell.’ she
muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

  Aerlid gathered her up and carried her back to their camp, putting her back down again. ‘Where does it hurt?’ he asked her, though his eyes were already on her ankle.

  ‘Ankle, and here,’ she pointed at her left side, just above her sword belt.

  He carefully lifted her shirt up and saw a dark, ugly bruise already forming. She must have fallen right on her sword.

  From a leather bag Aerlid removed his physician’s tools. The ankle was broken, her side was badly bruised and her fingers were scraped raw. Not overly serious, but he could not say the same about the fear in her eyes.

  He brushed a hand over her ankle lightly. Her face relaxed as the pain eased and he began setting her ankle.