by D Murray
Eighteen
Frayed
Ruah clenched her teeth and endured the stabbing pain that spasmed up her leg and around her hips. It eased in sharpness as it fizzed up her back, ending in a tingle at the base of her skull. She had her hands swaddled deep in the cloak wrapped about her. The wind buffeted them head on as they walked northeast towards Hagra. The land gradually rose towards the massive ragged mountains in the near distance. Dark clouds obscured the peaks, and snow coated the majority of their bulk below. The wind that assaulted them was icy cold. It stabbed at them with the chill blowing off the Hagra peaks. The sight of the mountains in the distance filled Ruah with a gut-churning sense of fear and intimidation. What would I give to be in the wagon-house on my sleeping mat now. She looked down at Tusk. The big dog hobbled along beside her, keeping an even pace. Tusk looked up and opened his mouth, tongue lolling in a dog-smile. Ruah grinned, feeling a genuine thread of happiness for the first time in the two days since they had killed the riders.
They had spoken barely any words the day and night before, making a cold camp and bedding down after Culver had practiced hatchet work with her.
The next morning had come still and cold. Frost had crusted over Ruah’s blanket. She woke to find Halpern’s arm over her, and Tusk snuggled in tight beneath the blanket. They broke camp without breakfast, and set off towards the mountains, the ground rising all the while. Ruah’s mind drifted, reworking the violence of the last week. She watched it all. Dhendrin’s life being choked from her. Paw falling into the dirt, his eyes asking questions of her. The blackened ruin of the church. The blackened ruin of all who were within. She saw the driver’s hut, awash with the stain and stink of death. She revisited the farmstead, and the whole mindless evil of it. And then the scout, with his head cracked open and yawning out that awful last cry.
She smiled at the last one, remembering the cracking of bone as her hatchet found its mark. She wrestled with the thought. It was wrong to enjoy killing. That much was simple. Wasn’t wrong to kill that one. Is it wrong that I want to do it again? They’re pissing murderers, rapists. Bad, evil men. Paw deserves vengeance. The station folk deserve vengeance. Ruah shivered as a chill swept about her. Is it vengeance for them? Or is it vengeance for my bastard of a life? The last questions that rattled about her head made her feel queasy. She looked about, noting the squat, twisted birch trees, void of any leaves. Ugly brown tufts of wind-clipped heather and juniper sprouted from between rocks and amidst the yellow carpet of grass. Shit ground for cattle. They won’t be coming on any more herds up here.
“How long d'you think until we make the mountains?” Halpern asked from up ahead.
Culver stomped on ahead, not breaking his pace as he answered. “We’ll be into the foothills by tomorrow.”
“And the place we’re going. Hagra something?”
“Iolach. Hagra Iolach,” Culver corrected him. “Never been. Only heard rumours, but didn’t think much of it. Never met anyone who could speak of it.”
“Reckon we’ll find it?” Halpern probed. “This Spire, that is.”
“Reckon so. If the bloody clouds would clear, we might be able to see it.”
“Not much chance of that,” Ruah grumbled, her mouth buried beneath the fold of her cloak.
Culver stopped and turned to face her. “Maybe so, but would you suggest we not carry on? Would you suggest we stop here, on this delightfully wind-swept rocky shithole, or would you prefer we carried on, and perhaps find somewhere more suitable?”
“Shitting hells,” Ruah sighed, “was just saying. Look at the clouds. Looks like a storm’s coming in hard. I’d say I know the weather out here better than you. I spend every day on the plains. What did you spend your days doing?”
Culver ignored the question. “We’ll do no one any good just sitting tight. Let’s carry on, find somewhere to rest up for the night, preferably out of this bastarding wind. Maybe when things clear a little we’ll catch sight of this Spire.”
“Unless he was lying to us,” Halpern mumbled.
“Why would he do that?” Culver asked, turning his annoyance upon the younger man.
Halpern shrugged. “Dunno. Just figured maybe he’d try and see us toil, or worse.”
“No, lad. When a man fears losing his life, he’ll spill what he needs to keep it.”
“And even then, the truth may not be enough to save his life,” Ruah mumbled into her cloak again.
“What?” Culver snapped, turning his ire back towards Ruah. “Listen here, girl. If you don’t agree with my methods, then maybe you should give up your rescue mission. If we’d left him behind us, we’d be knee deep in our own guts and shit right now. What would you prefer? Freezing your twisted peg off, or having someone feed it to that ugly fucking dog of yours?”
“Dajda!” Ruah blew out her cheeks and shook her head. She was used to turning harsh words into play. “Seems a fine choice you’re giving me here. Can I perhaps have a few moments to consider the plenty virtues of both options?” She pinched her chin between forefinger and thumb and tilted her head skyward in the direction of the Hagra Peaks.
Culver narrowed his eyes and sneered at her. “You know, you’ve a right fucking smart mouth–”
“Shitting hells. It’s there.” Ruah’s hand moved from her chin and pointed between Halpern and Culver. “It’s right bloody there!”
The two men turned and looked to where Ruah was pointing. A sharp black-and-white twist of rock stabbed out of the grey sea of cloud that shrouded the Hagra Peaks.
“Well, I’ll be fucked,” Culver said, his hands resting on his hips. “Providence, at last.”
“Huh?” Halpern turned to the older man.
“Luck, lad. Good fortune at last.”
“As much fun as it is standing here squabbling, I suppose we’d be best just getting a move on. Shall we?” Ruah asked, a warm feeling growing in her belly, replacing that nagging, squirming doubt that racked her before. She looked up at the Spire and noted that snow covered it and its surrounding mass of mountains. A shudder ran through her body at the thought of it. She decided she’d nurture that warm feeling in her belly. It would likely be the last comfort she felt for some time.
The rain came in hard sheets. Fat drops mixed with icy hail assailed Ruah head-on, stinging against her cheeks and soaking her face beneath the oilcloth hood of her travelling cloak. Tusk trotted along at her side, the big dog’s eyes narrowed against the fearful weather.
“No point going on much farther in this.” Culver had turned to face Ruah and Halpern, and yelled out over the noise of the wind and rain. He turned back into it. “There.” He pointed through the swirling weather.
“Don’t see nothing,” Ruah yelled. “Nothing bloody there.” She mumbled the last words, leaning down to pet the head of Tusk. The dog wagged his tail and sneezed, sending a mist of moisture off his muzzle before turning towards Culver and running off with his hopping gait. “Where the hells is he going?”
“Dog sees something,” Halpern said, walking up beside Ruah. He had his cloak wrapped about his arms, and his hands buried beneath his armpits. “Maybe he sees what Culver sees.”
“Aye. Maybe.”
“Come on,” Culver urged. “Your bloody ugly dog has more wits than you both.” Culver moved off, stalking after the faint sight of Tusk as he bounded through the rain and up the rocky hill.
Ruah spat and pulled her hood down as far as it would go over her face. “Shitting weather.”
She walked on for what felt like an hour, but was like to be only mere minutes, until she realised she had lost sight of Culver. Fuck. Where’d he go? She stopped and, ignoring the fizzing pain that snaked about her thigh and into her hip, she looked about her. Nothing but ugly sheets of rain and ice. A grey miasma, and Halpern, standing with his mouth open and breathing hard.
“See him?” Halpern asked.
“No.”
“Fuck.”
“Aye. Fuck is right.” She narrowed her eyes and stra
ined to make out the shape of the blocky shades before her. Maybe boulders. Maybe nothing.
“I heard something,” Halpern hissed, his hand shooting out from where it was nestled in his cloak, his finger pointed in the air. “There, again.”
Ruah strained to listen. “Don’t hear–”
The sound of a dog’s bark carried over the buffeting wind.
“Tusk.” Ruah turned to her left and saw a shifting shape of grey through the rain. Tusk’s tongue lolled from his mouth as he hopped down the hillside and into view. “There you are, boy!” Ruah said in a light tone. “Where’d you go?” The big dog approached and stood up on his one hind leg, pawing at Ruah’s thigh, and happily receiving a scratch about his shaggy ears. “Show us where Culver is, go on.” Tusk dropped down and stepped over to Halpern, his tail wagging at the sight of him. He sniffed at his boots, and looked up with the happy dog-smile.
“He’s warming to me,” Halpern said to Ruah, a broad smile about his face.
“You wore the beast down.” Seems to be a gift you have.
“Still.” Halpern bent to pet Tusk, only to receive a growl in return. He quickly pulled back his hand and looked at Ruah.
“Some ways to go yet, perhaps.” She smiled and called Tusk over. “Go on, boy, take us to Culver.” Tusk turned and hopped on up the hill from where he had come, picking his way about the small boulders and fractured slabs of blue-grey rock. Ruah moved quick this time, straining to keep Tusk in sight. The pace was sending hot pains up through her leg and into the small of her back, but she gritted her teeth and followed on. She could hear Halpern slipping on the wet ground and cursing from behind her. “And I’m the one with a twisted leg. Keep up.” She shook her head and huffed a heavy breath out, the fog of it enveloping her as she made her way up the hill. Within minutes she saw a dark shape breaking though the veil of rain. The ground levelled off and was lined with countless fist-sized lumps of flat slate, shining purple from the rain. Before her stood a group of several massive boulders, the same colour as the fractured pieces beneath her feet. The faces of the boulders had been weather-beaten over time, shedding the smaller pieces of stone to the ground.
“Fortunate, no?” Culver stepped out in a crouch from between where two large boulders had come to rest against one another. “There’s space for us all in here.”
“A cave?” Ruah asked, Halpern’s breath sounding his arrival behind her.
“Is it a cave?” the younger man echoed.
“Of sorts. Someone has built up a rock wall at the back. We’ll be sheltered from the worst of it. Come on, get out of that weather.”
Ruah followed Culver and Tusk in between the two large boulders. The entrance required turning side on to access, but once inside, there was an oval space large enough for them all to rest out of the worst of the weather. Towards the rear of the shelter a wedge-shaped gap had been built up with a wall of thick fractures of slate, blocking most of what weather tried to sneak its way inside. Ruah slumped against the smooth surface of the wall, wincing at the pain about her leg, and slid down slowly until she met the ground. She tilted her head back, closed her eyes and sighed. Tusk nudged at her elbow, lifting her arm. “I see you.” Ruah smiled and petted the dog as he lay down beside her. The heat of the big dog instantly warmed Ruah’s leg.
“He’s a good dog.” Culver smiled. “Clever. And not really all that ugly.” He sat down, back against the wall opposite Ruah. He reached into his bag and pulled out a short, fat candle. “I think we can risk this. Won’t bring much warmth, but I always find it helps.”
“Reckon we’ll be safe?” Halpern asked, the edge of worry clear in his tone.
“Hardly any chance of the light being seen out there once we hang the tarp at the front.” He smiled at Halpern. “But caution is ever wise, so we should keep our weapons handy.” Culver stood and grabbed the rolled-up tarp. He walked the few steps towards the shelter entrance and tied the cords attached to the corners of the tarp into knots, jamming them into fractures in the stone. He grabbed two large loose stone, and tied the bottom corners of the tarp around them to anchor it. The wind sucked at the fabric. It flopped in and out with regular, wet slap. “Should hold,” Culver mused, then stepped back and hunkered down. He rummaged in his pack and pulled free an alloy spark rod and some small clumps of tinder. He struck once, the sparks momentarily lighting the shelter with a shower of tiny short-lived stars. The tinder took, and a small flame wobbled before Culver touched the candle wick to it. The damp candle wick sizzled, then grew to life, casting a warm light about them.
Ruah stroked Tusk's neck. The big dog’s rhythmic breathing and the gentle flutter of the amber glow about the smooth stone walls pulled Ruah into a fuzzy sense of fatigue. She imagined her crude sleeping mat underneath Old Paw’s muck wagon. Her thoughts faded, and she drifted into the black sleep of the bone-weary.
Ruah sat up with a jolt, the spasm of pain ripping her from sleep in a breathless panic.
“Dajda, Roo!” Halpern gasped. “Near shat myself.”
She held up a hand in apology and rubbed at the spasming muscle in her lower back. “Sorry, Hal. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Tusk sat up and licked at Ruah’s raised hand, his wet tongue slipping between the spaces of Ruah’s fingers. “I see you.”
“Back hurting?” Halpern asked.
“Aye. It’ll be fine though.”
“Don’t look fine. Roo, you sure this ain’t too much for you–”
“I said it’ll be fine,” she snapped, regretting the anger in her words.
Halpern stepped up and offered a tin cup of hot tea. “Here. It’s the last of the leaves from the station.”
“No, you should have it.” She refused the cup, and continued to knead at the muscle in her back.
“Had mine already. Culver, too.” Halpern smiled, and pressed the cup into her hand. “This is yours.”
She nodded and offered a small smile to him. Too much for me. Fucker’s right. But what else? Got me a purpose here, got me some respect. And I’ll get me all the more when I get Selby and the others back. If my bastarding leg doesn’t give in before then. “Thank you.”
Halpern grunted and turned back to rummaging in his pack.
“I mean it,” Ruah continued. “For the tea, and for your kindness.”
“What?” Halpern turned to her, his face contorted. “My kindness? You taking the piss?”
She looked at him, wincing in confusion.
“I did nothing but torture you. I never gave two fucks for you, or how you felt. Dajda knows, if it weren’t for the station being raided, I’d probably be kicking shit in your face and laughing at you as you thanked me and asked me for more. I’d have treated that fucking dog of yours better than you. Don’t thank me for anything, Roo. I can see well enough. I’m being tested for my ways, and I mean to make amends.”
She smiled at him and sipped at the weak tea. It was cold, most likely heated over the candle to stew the leaves even a little. “Aye, you were a bit of a prick. You and the others. But our little world has changed now, and the order of things is all wrong. You see that, and you want to make the best of it. To make the best of you. I see it too, Hal, and I want to make the best for me. If we can get them back, maybe that means you are a better man. For me, it means I’m worth more than getting shit kicked in my face. The only way either of us will see our ends achieved is by working together. As a team. And so, for that kindness, thank you.”
“Dajda, girl.” Halpern puffed out his cheeks and scrutinized her. “Are you sure your brain hasn’t spasmed and all?” He threw a chunk of dried beef across to her, and smiled. “Big enough bit for the mutt, too.” He stood up and stepped out of the shelter.
“We need to leave soon.” Ruah heard Culver’s voice from outside the shelter. “She up?”
“Aye.” Halpern’s voice. “Leg’s hurting her.”
“It’ll never not, I’ll wager.”
“Aye. Can you do that massage thing again? Ease it for her?”
“I can. But the weather’s eased. The Spire’s clear, so we need to make headway while we can.”
“Even a few minutes. It’ll make it bearable for her at least.”
Ruah tore free a chunk of the dried beef and shoved it to the inside of her cheek to soften it. Tusk sat at her side, pink jowls slobbering and foamy. His wide pink tongue slipped out and around his muzzle, and he emitted a plaintive whine. Ruah smiled and handed him the meat. “Sitting about won’t do for it, boy. Best we get on up.” Ruah placed down the empty tin cup and heaved herself up to her feet, leaning her weight on her right leg and stretching the twisted ruin. She grimaced as the pain flared. “Don’t want them boys to think they’re the only ones amongst us who are up for a rescue, eh?” Tusk cocked his head to one side, and opened his mouth in his dog-smile. “Exactly.” She limped towards the tarp that covered the entrance to the shelter and stepped out, Tusk hopping behind.
“You up for it?” Culver asked her.
She followed his eyes and could tell he was appraising how she held herself. She tried to straighten up as best she could, but it was useless. He’ll see the pain on me. “Weather looks good. No point hanging about, eh?”
Culver looked at Halpern, and then back to Ruah. “Aye. No point indeed.” He walked over towards the shelter. “Best get our things together. No telling how long the window is before the next bloody storm comes in.”
Culver stepped into the shelter, leaving Halpern standing looking at Ruah.
“What?” she demanded, her hands resting on her hips.
“Nothing.” Halpern coughed and hurried past her, into the shelter.
Ruah looked up at the sky. It was early morning, perhaps an hour past sun-up. The sky was clear of cloud for the most part, with a haze of grey out to the north. She looked up the scree- and boulder-strewn hill before her. They were almost into the snow line. The twisted spike of the Spire rose up above the summit of the hill. Ruah fancied it looked like a spear point sticking from the chest of an ancient giant. A vanquished god of old, perhaps.
