by Lynn Mann
I nodded. ‘I know how the people of The Old used to live. They thought that if they controlled everything, it would mean their lives were safe and comfortable.’
‘Correct,’ Nerys said. ‘They thought that if they isolated themselves from anything or anyone who was different from them in any way, there would be no conflict, no chance of any danger and they would have safe and happy lives. They did, of course, fail to realise that the very conflict they tried so hard to avoid by controlling their external circumstances, was present INSIDE each and every one of them. The more they tried to control the world outside of themselves, the more frightening it became that their sense of unease and anxiety didn’t abate. And so, they tried to impose ever more control, presumably thinking that at some point the fear and anxiety would disappear.
‘But it didn’t. The cities became centres of mental instability and illness and the fear and suspicion that existed between individuals was present on an even larger scale between cities and between nations. Everyone was fearful of everyone else. And fear drove the governments to do unspeakable things. Creating the Woeful was one of those things.’
‘What are they?’ I asked in a small voice.
‘They are the descendants of a group of beings that the people of The Old referred to as Enforcers. The Enforcers were created by scientists of The Old, who genetically modified human embryos to produce an army of super-beings, if you will. They introduced genes from eagles to give their creatures talons at the end of their fingers. They used genes from various apes to produce a stronger, more compact body shape capable of scaling buildings and they also appear to have introduced genes from one of the larger cats, judging by the fangs they managed to produce.’
She produced a drawing of a creature that frightened me and at the same time left me feeling very sad. It looked like a human being but was hunched in posture. The features Nerys had mentioned were all apparent and it was also covered in sparse, brown hair, over what appeared to be brown armour.
‘Why do they have hair on the outside of their armour?’ I asked.
‘That isn’t armour, it’s his skin. The thinking seems to be that the scientists must have introduced a gene from something with an exoskeleton, a crab or lobster, maybe. Anyhow, the result they produced is what you see. Extremely tough but flexible skin, almost impenetrable.’
I was horrified. ‘Why did they do this?’ I asked in a whisper.
‘Fear and control. The same motivation for all other decisions made in The Old. The Enforcers were produced to do just as their name suggests, to enforce all of the rules and measures the government put in place. Anyone violating any of the rules was eliminated by the Enforcers, in the interests of public safety.’
‘But how did they make the Enforcers do what they wanted?’
‘Computer chips, linked to computers in main control centres, were placed in each and every one of them at birth. The computers were able to process everything the Enforcers saw, heard and did. Orders were issued by the computers according to the strict protocol with which they had been programmed. Disobedience was impossible. Any deviation from their instructions resulted in pain beyond belief and the Enforcers learnt quickly to obey orders without delay.’
‘But how did the Ancients manage to leave, with Enforcers on the loose?’ I asked.
‘They didn’t exist when the Ancients first started to leave their cities. It was decades after the first Ancients had established their communities that fresh refugees from the cities brought word of these new beings. After their widespread introduction to the cities, the slow but steady stream of people leaving the cities and arriving at The New communities was reduced to a mere trickle and eventually it stopped altogether.’
‘Why didn’t I find mention of them when I was reading through the Histories?’
‘School books don’t contain their mention anywhere. It has always been felt that knowledge of the Woeful, and therefore knowledge of what humans have been capable of in the past, should not be acquired until children reach an age where they can fully understand the implications of it. Not to mention, of course, sparing young children from nightmares, which your Robbie was warned about. You do understand the implications of what I am telling you, don’t you?’
‘Humans are capable of doing horrible things?’ I said.
‘Yes, but the point is that fear can drive people to do things that in the cold light of day, they would never consider doing. The people who did this were human beings, just like us. They would have known that what they were doing was wrong but they chose to listen to their fear instead. The lesson to learn here — and it’s one that the horses have repeatedly asked their Bond-Partners to share with us all — is this. However afraid you are, whatever situation you find yourself in, always listen to your intuition and follow it. Never make your decisions based on fear. This,’ she pushed the drawing towards me, ‘is what can happen.’
‘Do the Woeful really live in the woods?’ I asked.
‘Encounters with them have always been in the woods, but no dwellings have ever been found. It seems they tend to roam around, living from day to day, hunting and gathering their food as they go.’
‘Why don’t they attack us in the village?’
‘Nobody knows. When the humans of The Old eventually destroyed themselves, there was little left of their cities. We have to assume that when the computers that controlled them perished, the Enforcers were free to do as they wished. All the evidence points to them avoiding human contact since that time and their descendants likewise.’
‘Do they attack people outside of the village, as Robbie said?’
‘There have never been any reports of Woeful killing human beings. They have, however, been known to stalk from the trees for long periods of time, hours, sometimes, before leaping down with the apparent intention only of stealing what they can. And, as your brother so helpfully informed you, when the Woeful do kill for food, their preferred method is to slash at the throats of their victims with their talons. Their usual prey is deer, wild cats, dogs, pigs, cows and,’ she paused for a second, before saying in an apologetic voice, ‘horses.’
The world stood still. My heart thumped wildly and my breathing became erratic. Nerys took hold of my hands firmly and said, ‘Amarilla, breathe. Breathe, slowly and deeply. Listen to me, focus on my voice and breathe.’
I matched my breathing to the deep, slow breaths she was taking. ‘How often have horses been killed?’ I whispered.
‘We don’t know. Every now and then, remains have been found, but we don’t know.’
‘If they’re killing horses, why are the Woeful not hunted down?’
Nerys sat back into her chair. ‘And there we have it. You have just felt fear such as you’ve never before felt in your life and your immediate reaction was to want to lash out at what you perceive to be the cause of it — the Woeful, the potential threat to your horse. You will need to find the courage to avoid falling into the same trap that the people of The Old did.’
‘But what about the horses? How do we help them to stay safe?’
‘We don’t. Amarilla, let me speak,’ she raised her voice slightly as I opened my mouth to protest. ‘The same thought has occurred to others over the years, believe me, but The New communities have always been advised to leave the horses to take their own chances.’
‘Who by? Who thinks we should just leave the horses to be slaughtered?’
‘They do. Amarilla, it is the horses who have always counselled us not to interfere, to live our lives and to allow them to live theirs with no interference. The horses know everything we think. They know everything we feel. If there is even the beginning of an idea in any of our communities to hunt the Woeful, one of the Horse-Bonded always appears and advises that the horses ask the humans not to proceed. They council that to hunt the Woeful would do untold damage, not only to those poor creatures themselves, but to us as human beings. They applaud the huge leaps we have made to evolve and live a di
fferent way from those of The Old and they are adamant that all would be put at risk were we to harm the Woeful. I’m sure you of all people will respect the advice of the horses.’
‘Of course, it’s just that...’ I didn’t know what I wanted to say.
Nerys said, ‘you fear for your horse, I know. But trust her. Horses have a highly evolved flight instinct and are extremely fast when they need to be. The Woeful may be strong and able climbers, but once on the ground they aren’t much faster than you or I. The odds are in the favour of the horses. Try and remember that. Amarilla?’
I sighed. ‘Okay. What do I need to know in order to be allowed out of the village on my own?’
‘You will need to learn to be aware when you are being watched. If a Woeful comes across you, it will stalk you for a while before leaving the safety of the branches. The Woeful will not accost you unless they are sure you have something they want and to this end, they tend to observe for some time. They stare, much as a cat does when stalking its prey. We all have the ability to sense when someone or something is directing its energy in a focused way towards us; we experience an uncomfortable, vulnerable feeling and very often the hairs on the back of the neck will stand up.
‘I will ask certain members of the village to stalk you over the days to come. If you become aware at any time of someone focusing on you, you are to treat it as if one of the Woeful is actually stalking you. You will put down on the ground anything you are carrying and leave it there, and you will run to the nearest building and tell an adult what has happened. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, but why do I need to put my things on the ground?’
‘From all our experience, we can be reasonably sure that the Woeful will not attack your person to cause you harm intentionally. That is not to say that you would be sure to escape injury should you try to hold on to something they want, however, as those talons of theirs are extremely sharp. Your first thought once you realise you are being watched MUST be to release anything in your possession and until you have proved you will do this, you won’t pass the test.’
When I arrived home later that day, I was still feeling shaken. My mother immediately rushed up to me to tell me how pale I was and ask if I was sickening for a cold.
‘I know about the Woeful, Mum,’ I told her. She gave me a long hug and sat me down with a mug of warm milk as she used to when I was little and then for once, she let me be.
As I lay down to rest for the night, I pictured my horse easily and my weariness from the emotion of the day started to recede. In my mind I saw her lying down, surrounded by the first fallen leaves of early autumn. The rest of her herd lay around her, but one who kept watch. She rested her soft, pink muzzle in the grass and each time she breathed out, the surrounding blades of grass flattened slightly as the warm air passed over them. Her eyelids rested but weren’t completely closed and from time to time, she would twitch and lift her head slightly before sinking her nose back down into the grass and the leaves. Peace. It oozed from her, surrounded her, was her. I found it too.
Five
Tugged
Over the following week, three people, including my sister Katonia, told me that they’d stalked me, to no avail. One of my stalkers reported seeing me rub the back of my neck a few times and Katonia said that when she saw me hesitate in my tracks for a few seconds, she was sure I had sensed her, but clearly, I hadn’t been aware enough of their focus on me for me to consciously register what was happening.
The next stalking was more successful, however, and this time Uncle Jodral was the perpetrator. I left my house after dinner one evening to go to see Cherrie, a friend who lived at the far end of the village, and as soon as I left the house I felt uncomfortable. I couldn’t stop myself looking down to check that I was wearing clothes, as curiously, I felt naked. Seeing that my shirt, leggings and boots were still in place, I shivered and started my walk to Cherrie’s house. The feeling didn’t leave and I felt more and more uncomfortable. A few minutes later, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and realisation dawned. Remembering Nerys’s instructions, I put the cake I was carrying for Cherrie’s mother on the ground and ran to the nearest cottage, which happened to be the chandlery. I banged on the door.
‘Amarilla, what a lovely surprise, are you alright? You look rather unnerved,’ said the Chandler on opening the door.
‘Miss Matti, sorry to bother you, but I know someone is stalking me and yours was the nearest door to knock on.’
Miss Matti stepped out on to the door step and called out, ‘Jodral, you can come out, your work here is done!’ She said to me, ‘well that saves me a job in the morning, I was going to stalk you as you left for your studies. I’m relieved I won’t be needed, I’ve never been good at moving around quietly, all that hopping from house to house while staying focused on the subject, it’s really not very easy.’
Uncle Jodral reached my side. ‘Well done Am, that was less than five minutes. I bet next time you’ll know straight away and then you’ll be up to the level of awareness needed to pass the test. Miss Matti what’s wrong?’
Miss Matti had put both hands up to cover her face. ‘Oh, me and my mouth, I’ve just revealed to Amarilla that I was meant to be the next to stalk her, in the morning. What now? Nerys will think I did it on purpose, she knows I hate doing it, last time I walked into the corner of the Miller’s cottage and gave myself a nose bleed!’
‘No one is going to tell Nerys, are we Am? You’ll just have a headache in the morning and be unable to do your stint, and Amarilla will pass her test once the next person stalks her. Now don’t think on it again, okay?’ he said.
Miss Matti nodded and retreated back into her cottage, closing the door softly behind her. My uncle and I walked back to the cobbled road and I retrieved my cake. We allowed ourselves to laugh.
‘Well at least you know you’re safe in the morning Am,’ said Uncle Jodral, ‘but you will be stalked again at some point. Remember how you felt when it was me stalking you and next time you should pass.’
I left Cherrie’s house just as it was getting dark, this time carrying a bottle of home-brewed cider for my parents from Cherrie’s father. Seconds after I had started my walk up the road, I felt it — that naked, vulnerable feeling. Immediately, I put the bottle on the ground and ran back to Cherrie’s house. Her mother answered the door and after I had explained why I was back, she called out to whoever was stalking me. No one answered. The night was still. Cherrie’s father joined her and loudly repeated her request for the stalker to show himself. Still no one answered. I saw Cherrie’s parents look at each other questioningly as the darkness fell.
‘Amarilla, I think you’d better come back inside,’ Cherrie’s father said.
Just as I made to step into the house, I heard a rustle behind me and then someone grabbed my shoulder and shouted, ‘BOO!’
I screamed, my heart pounding as Robbie’s laughter rang out behind me.
Cherrie’s mother said, ‘Robbie Nixon, really. At some point you will have to grow up and realise that your childish pranks are no longer funny. What are you now, twenty-one? You nearly frightened your sister to death, not to mention me and Gray. And you an Earth-Singer too, the sooner you find a nice girl to settle you down, the better for all of us.’
‘Mrs Blake, does this mean I’ve passed the test?’ I said.
Cherrie’s mother asked Robbie, ‘well? How soon did she sense you?’
‘Wait until I tell Con,’ he gasped. ‘Straight away Mrs Blake, she’s definitely got it. So, Am, how lucky are you that I was able to fill in tonight? Uncle Jod came round and told us of Miss Matti’s slip up, so I volunteered to stalk you tonight so you could pass the test and she wouldn’t be in hot water with Nerys tomorrow for missing her stint. And of course you passed once I took a turn, how could you not.’
‘I can’t believe my luck Rob,’ I said, drily.
The next couple of years saw me happily immersed in my studies, although a part of me was alway
s on alert in case my horse tugged me. My herb journal was slowly filled with the names of herbs which would ease many of the ailments listed and I kept detailed notes regarding which part of the herb I felt would be most potent to use, dosage and methods of storage.
I thoroughly enjoyed being present during Nerys’s consultations with patients. To begin with, I merely observed how she proceeded during a consultation and used my senses to practise tuning in with the different complaints. Then, when I left the room so that Nerys could prescribe the necessary herbs without me being able to hear, I would leaf through my herb journal and mark a page to remind myself of yet another ailment I would be able to create with my mind and on which I could work.
As time went on, Nerys allowed me to consult with the patient while she stayed in the background and observed. By then, I was easily able to sense the condition that was causing a problem and increasingly I knew which herb or herbs I could prescribe. Dosage wasn’t difficult, but needed to be overseen by Nerys to ensure that the patient’s treatment was sound and of maximum benefit.
Much as I enjoyed being able to work with patients to help them feel more comfortable, the part I loved most about my apprenticeship was venturing out by myself in search of new herbs with which to work. I loved the anticipation of tuning into a herb that was new to my senses, feeling around with my mind until I was sure I had a grasp of its vibration and then deciding on which ailments I would test it first. And the thrill I felt when I knew I had matched a herb with the condition it would ease was addictive.
It was to this end that I found myself out in the woods on one of my herb-collecting forays, one early autumn morning. The chill of the season crept insidiously through the dense woodland but I was dressed for it in warm brown leggings over woollen tights, wool-lined leather boots, a green shirt and a thick green woollen pullover. I carried my basket, which contained my herb dictionary, my lunch and my waxed cloak in case it should rain.
