Gefforen looked and strained. “No, it is too quiet for me.”
“I think it is… moaning.” Eshezy felt another of her moments of clarity. “I remember. There is another place. There, the sun does not stay always in the sky. At night – at ‘sleep-time’ – it sinks below the edge of the world and all is dark, except…” The other details that she was sure she had once known as well as the back of her hand – and that’s how they say it there, too! – refused to emerge from the depths of her memory.
“It is not like that here.” Gefforen shivered at the thought of darkness, like that in a closed room without windows, but over all the land. “How…?”
“I remember… because I was there!”
Gefforen looked scared, but deeply impressed by this latest revelation.
“We must move on, or we will be too tired to do this.” Eshezy started forwards and felt Rauffaely settle on her shoulder, digging his claws into her tunic. Gefforen stepped ahead and led the way once more. Time passed in semi-silence, broken only by the sound of dry stalks of grass being pushed aside, clods of dried soil crumbling under foot, and the very occasional high-pitched ‘nuah’ from Rauffaely as he spotted a movement of a tiny creature, running into hiding as they approached. Eshezy was impressed with his devotion to her, as it was clear he would have loved to chase these little animals, but felt he must stay with her.
Gefforen reached her hand out behind her and started to crouch. Eshezy stepped sideways, ready with her weapon, but then saw that the grass was thinning. She moved alongside her little guide and crouched too as she worked her way forwards. There, between the remaining stalks, was a view of the river. The other side was covered with shorter grass, varying from a few inches to a foot or two in height, and a multitude of wild flowers. Behind this broad band of glorious colour there were some big trees, loaded with a variety of foliage, some of which was green and some a range of shades from brown to deep red.
“Where is Neechaall?” Eshezy voiced her prime concern.
“Not far, we can cross here and walk back to the town.” Gefforen responded with a voice not much above a whisper.
“Excellent! You are a tactician, too!” Eshezy saw her compliment hit home, as the young girl blushed and dipped her head. Rauffaely added his own unique meow, seemingly in agreement. She rubbed his ears and started out across the river. The water got deeper and deeper as she moved towards the middle; her arms, which had initially merely been extended sideways, now of necessity were above her head, holding her bow clear, and Rauffaely was standing instead of sitting, looking at the water with distaste. It continued to deepen until it was near her shoulders, and she found it difficult to balance. Fortunately, this moment was soon past, and she stepped up onto the opposing bank a few seconds later, feeling a little chilled and a touch heavier with the water that had soaked into her clothes.
“Sorry.” Gefforen clambered out beside her, her hair wet halfway up the back and sides of her head. “The point by the town is much better for a normal crossing, but I didn’t want to risk being seen.”
Eshezy nodded, impressed that the short girl had chosen a point further downstream to cross, despite the fact that she must have been almost floating, and checked some of her arrows, finding that they were completely unaffected by the passage. In a similar manner, her sword seemed to be powder-dry, as if the fit in the scabbard were so snug as to be watertight. She shoved the pommel down again, satisfied with the situation. Rauffaely settled back into a sitting position.
“This way.” Gefforen led the way into the trees and Eshezy was soon glad to be moving, as the energy required for motion warmed her and she seemed to dry quickly as she walked. A few minutes later they came to the end of the trees and saw the stumps of the once-much bigger wood. Beyond them, about four hundred yards away, was Neechaall.
“See the bigger buildings behind those dwellings?” Gefforen pointed ahead and slightly to the right. “Those are the workshops, and the last one of them before the temple is the one the soldiers sleep in. The nearest one is the bakeshop and grinding hall. If anyone is still awake, they might be there, baking some quick-bread, or perhaps eating it, if they worked very quickly after getting back from the mine. They would probably have done that, as they would not want to go to sleep hungry!”
“Let’s check it out.” Eshezy set an arrow in place, ready for quick release, as they moved closer.
Together they walked across the remains of the once wooded area, stepping between the stumps, some of which had sprouted some fresh growth with bright, pale green leaves on long, spindly, soft-walled branches.
Eshezy looked left and right, tense, waiting for soldiers to appear. “Perhaps they all went to check out where the townspeople went to.” She worried about the safety of her other followers.
“I wish that could be true, but I don’t think so.” Gefforen murmured, more concerned with what they might soon be facing than the status of her townspeople, who by now would be safe inside Eshezy’s Fortress. “They will not all have gone.”
Eshezy nodded. “Let’s go through that door fast. Follow me!” She ran the last few feet, hit the door with her shoulder and staggered through the opening she revealed. Inside, a crowd of very strong and tall men jumped to their feet from the countertops, stools and storage bins where they had been sitting. There were no soldiers within the large space and the commotion she had caused with her abrupt entrance was defused by the appearance, scant seconds behind her, of the familiar Gefforen, and further by the clearly irritated expression on Rauffaely’s face as he braced himself against the forces of inertia, but maintained his position with ruffled pride on Eshezy’s shoulder, his legs spread unevenly across that double leather-layered surface.
“Hi everyone, this is Eshezy!” Gefforen announced proudly. “And Rauffaely!”
“Gefforen! Didn’t think I’d see you, of all people. Where is everyone else?” A solid man looked suspiciously at Eshezy and her live shoulder decoration. Both the human and the cat looked back with interest at the speaker. Eshezy noted his short, dark beard and the fact that he was holding a large stick very firmly in his right hand.
“Travakane! She’s our friend.” Gefforen continued hastily, noting his still-defensive stance. “She defeated the soldiers and took us to a new home! She killed two of them and we took the other two prisoner.” She continued at a markedly lower volume, as she crossed the large space, walking between the boxes and stools and past the remaining fragments of fresh bread on the central work-surface. “Where are the other soldiers, the ones that go with you to the mine?”
“Some went across the river. They weren’t happy about the lack of bread, but they went ’cos ‘Big Karg’ was fuming.” Another man, one with a livid bruise on his face, his right eye concealed by the swelling, supplied helpfully.
Eshezy carefully removed the arrow from her bow and placed it on the countertop, leaning the bow up beside it.
“Which one did that to you, Harthangan?” Gefforen looked worried by the damage, and walked over to him, reaching out gingerly to touch his barely bearded face.
“It was that brute Kartilagburg.” Harthangan smiled at the memory, happily allowing the youthful gesture of care. “But his face always looks much worse, naturally!”
Travakane smiled too and leaned the stick against the wall behind him, relaxing at last now that the stranger’s unique weapon had been laid aside. “It’s true, and that’s why Karg only took three with him. He left the rest; they are supposed to be watching us, but they will be sleeping in their snug by now with their doors bolted firmly. They told us the rest of you townspeople must have been carried off by wild animals and we should stay inside for our own good!”
“Despite that, we’re supposed to gather more grass, beat out the grain, and make bread in time for their breakfast.” This was supplied by a short, stocky man who was perched on a storage container behind the door. Clearly he was not impressed with the logic of his ‘superiors’. He smiled as he considere
d the news. “I’m not sure I really want to…”
The others in the room grinned, their tired expressions replaced by a satisfied contemplation of new options suddenly appearing before them.
“We’ll take those two!” Heads turned quickly at the sound of a gruff voice at the still-open door. Seven soldiers rushed in, swords held menacingly before them as they zeroed in on Eshezy and Gefforen.
Eshezy realised she could not reach her bow in time; though she had leaned it against a nearby table the thudding footfalls contrarily shook it clear, dropping it away from her onto the floor. She pulled out her short sword and grimaced as she coolly blocked the first thrust a mere second later. Rauffaely launched himself onto the head of the soldier, claws extended, wailing like a far larger beast. Confusion created, he bounced off sideways and disappeared from her view.
Sticks, stools and kitchen tools appeared as if by magic in the hands of the miners, as they instantly turned from vassals to violent revolutionaries. Swords are not easily countered by such implements, however, and screams and groans started to fill the air. Eshezy boiled over, batting the first sword aside again and thrusting unerringly forwards, through the tough leather jerkin of the briefly surprised leader. Turning from him as he fell dying, she hurriedly blocked the next attack, jumping back as another soldier thrust from her side, slicing tunic fabric from her upper leg. She felt no pain, assumed no contact, and sprang behind a handy box to thwart the next blow. She dimly sensed the battle going on around her, as another soldier fixed on her as a target. Three at once! She Who Cannot be Named! Help me!
Gefforen had stumbled and fallen in fearful surprise as the soldiers had entered; she now realised that she was within easy reach of Eshezy’s bow. No one had considered her a threat, cowering on the floor, so she had time to pick the arrow from where it was perched at the edge of the countertop above her and pull back on the bow. She barely moved the bow out from its static state – the tension was beyond her strength and she found her fingers slipping – the arrow flew weakly, silently and haphazardly forwards, thumping into the leather jacket of a soldier who was hacking at a fallen miner. The impact bruised him but did not penetrate, however, the pain and the unexpectedness of the blow distracted him and his breath was knocked out of him as the floored miner opportunistically shoved a stirring stick upwards into his oppressor’s stomach with his undamaged left hand, splintering the slender wood as he did so.
Eshezy tipped the box forwards and jumped onto the side that was now the upper surface. She hacked at the outstretched arm of the second soldier, hearing the blade make contact with bone, parried a blow from the third soldier that passed perilously close to her neck, ducked under a swinging thrust and jumped to save her legs from another slashing attack, landing on the floor beyond the box. She jabbed the tip of her trusty sword into the forward-most foot of the fourth soldier and took the fifth in the stomach with another jab as he was knocked forward by a screaming miner. A sixth soldier pushed forwards, jabbing with rage directly at her middle, and she doubled over in a reflex reaction, trying to pull herself backwards, feeling the sword hit her sternum through her brown garment. Somehow the blade did not turn to either side or slip down into the un-armoured flesh of her stomach or up into her neck. Instead, the force of its impact pushed her back, out of reach of the crazed attacker. She tripped and fell over a foot behind her, dropping her sword but finding herself on the earthen floor next to Gefforen, who promptly pushed the bow into her hand.
So be it! Eshezy reacted automatically. She found she had already selected an arrow and a moment more was all she needed to pull the bow to its maximum flexing. ‘Twang’ – ‘shwooosh’ – ‘thunk’! The arrow hit the sixth soldier low in the stomach as he advanced on her and most of the shaft disappeared into him, propelled as it had been with maximum force at minimum range. She jumped back to her feet, shoved a miner out of the path of another soldier and launched another arrow at the furthest assailant, skewering him squarely through the neck. Turning to reflexively block what she thought was the next blow, realising with a sudden flash of fear that her sword was not in her scabbard, she found the remaining semi-mobile soldier was being beaten by three miners, blood pouring from wounds on all involved. He fell to the dirt surface and became motionless as she watched.
“Everybody! Stop!” Eshezy gasped her command as she realised all the soldiers were floored. A few more blows were given with the makeshift weapons of the miners-turned-bakers-turned-rebels before her message was comprehended, and they found that the action was over as suddenly as it had started. Rauffaely walked sedately through the scattered bodies and bounced up to reclaim his shoulder perch; Eshezy grinned as she stroked his head with her free hand, noting that his fur was not even ruffled.
Eshezy picked up her sword and checked the fallen soldiers with it, poking each one that was apparently lifeless to confirm this truth. Two were still conscious, though their multiple wounds meant that each was almost floating in newly red-tinted mud.
“Gefforen!” She twisted, looking for her little guide.
“I’m here.” The small girl rose shakily from the dirt floor and brushed herself off, and Eshezy could see that she was unhurt.
“Let’s check your fallen friends.” She patted her water containers, finding that the tough skin bags had withstood the abuse and were still full. We’re going to need every drop!
Chapter Five
Seirchaal’s Mine
“Eshezy?” Gefforen’s face appeared blurrily before her, an expression of intense anxiety apparent – so much so that it worried the woken witness in turn. “Eshezy, please answer!”
“Hi… you’re… Gefforen.” Eshezy concentrated and found that her ‘auto-zoom-in’ took her spiralling into Gefforen’s right eye. The deep blueness was comforting, but disorientating. “How are the miners?” Finally, she started to reconnect with her (new) world and remembered that the fight was over.
“Three were unconscious all through the sleep time, but seem to be breathing well. The rest are hobbling around, getting ready to bury the soldiers.”
Eshezy turned her head slightly and the room spun. After a moment of holding very cautiously still again, for her balance seemed to be precarious, she looked around the room – or what she could see of it from her place on the floor. Next, Harthangan’s face blocked her view, as the battered miner crouched in front of her. She could see the bruise on his right eye was fading, but some smeared blood on his very lightly bearded left cheek brought her attention to a new bruise just above his slightly receding hairline. The hair was matted down there and she found she could see the faint line of a tear in the skin beneath it.
“We got worried about you.” He said softly. “Then Gefforen showed us what to do. Still, I was getting concerned when you didn’t wake up.”
“I told him you were just sleeping.” Gefforen explained. “So Travakane organised some look-outs, and we all slept – except them, of course.”
“It’s morning now.” Harthangan offered this, clearly concerned that Eshezy was not at all aware of the passage of time.
“How can you tell?” Eshezy wondered out loud. “Nothing ever changes.”
Harthangan and Gefforen exchanged glances, almost furtively, one confused about what could possibly change to show the cycle of day and sleep-time, the other, recalling an impossible tale of horror that she had listened to, directly from the lips of her heroine, Eshezy, during their journey back to Neechaall from the Fortress.
Eshezy looked down and found that she was propped up with some empty flour bags, her right foot slightly elevated on some more bags. She became alarmed as she noticed some rough bandaging, almost hidden under the edging of her tunic, its shade almost a match for her skin. And my legging… She noted the covering that previously would have been overlapped by the bottom edge of the tunic was displaced, moved down towards her knee. She immediately flexed her ankle, wanting to know the extent of the injury. Her experiment was met with a tingling across the fro
nt of her thigh, but no real pain. “I don’t remember getting hit.”
Gefforen grinned at this. “We didn’t notice at first, either; there was so much blood around, it wasn’t obvious some was coming from you.”
“Until you passed out, that is!” Harthangan smiled wryly.
Eshezy learned that she had become the first recipient of the restorative powers of the water from the well and that her uninjured, or almost uninjured friends and new acquaintances had then triaged the rest of the miners.
“What about the soldiers?” Eshezy asked, when it became obvious that no one was going to touch on that subject.
“We tried to fix the two that were the last to be knocked down,” Harthangan began. “But both of them died during the sleep-time. We thought two of the unconscious three – Hatkavana and Krilishmal – might go, too, but they are breathing a bit better, now. Mathmally woke up a little before you and has been complaining about having to stay still ever since!”
“That’s what you would have wanted, isn’t it?” Gefforen questioned tentatively.
“Yes.” Eshezy realised her question was about the treatment of the soldiers. “Excuse me, Harthangan. I want to check this out.”
He turned away, face reddening, as he realised she was talking about the cut in the upper part of her thigh.
Eshezy lifted up the lower edge of her tunic, noticing neat stitches in it, peeled back the off-white fabric laid over the wound and was pleased to see that there was very little blood on the underside. Her eyes zoomed in on the cut and she saw that it was already re-joined, with a slight ridge of scabbing down the break. She smiled, and found Gefforen, her head down, sitting nervously, turned slightly away. “Thanks for sewing up the tear in my tunic! You have so many talents! I didn’t know you could sew, too.” Much more useful than that unearthly scream…
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