Terraless

by Thorby Rudbek

  Gefforen looked relieved at this and missed the introspective moment, as her heroine contemplated the subtle, unconsciously-phrased deeper meaning of her most recent thought. “Here, eat some of our quick-bread. I saved you one.”

  “Thanks.” She took the thin, flat, round layer of bread, bit into the fairly dry material and immediately thought about some kind of dip that would go well with it. But that is not from here…

  “Here’s something to help it go down!” Gefforen supplied an apple and got a grin of thanks in return.

  Several minutes passed; Eshezy rested as she felt her strength returning. She moved her head again and the world did not seem to tip, and then her leg and the stiffness was there, but there was nothing of pain beyond that sensation. She pulled the legging gingerly back up, until it was almost to the wound. There, that looks almost right again.

  “Help me up.” Eshezy lifted her foot off the supporting bags and put it on the dirt floor, avoiding the dried patches of blood as best she could. She looked at her two companions and saw their uneasiness. “We can’t afford to wait. Those four soldiers might return.” She reached out her right arm and got the corresponding limb in response from Harthangan. A constant, steady heave got her vertical and she looked around from this new vantage point, taking in the surroundings that she had first viewed in the period she thought of as the previous night. One of the unconscious miners could be seen, stretched out a few feet over to her left. His skin was grey. Must have lost a lot of blood. She saw her bow and quiver, the one leaning in a nearby corner and the other on a shelf next to it. I’ll be needing that later, no doubt, but I’ll concentrate on getting mobile first! Putting her weight gradually on the leg, she was pleased that it still did not hurt. Well, hardly! “Gefforen, let me lean on your shoulder as I take a few steps. I want to see outside.”

  Gefforen nodded and positioned herself accordingly. “I’m sorry, Eshezy, but you only have eleven arrows now.” She whispered this, sounding almost as if she had needed to be tortured to make this admission.

  “You have done so well. Don’t speak of it.” Eshezy smiled reassuringly. She remembered the two soldiers she had targeted, and realised, without it being explained any further, that no one could be found who would be willing to extricate those arrows from the bodies. I suppose that is a good sign; even these tough miners are too squeamish to consider chopping up their enemies!

  Once outside, Eshezy found she could step more freely and released her young supporter. I wonder where Rauffaely is? She considered this as she looked around and decided that she would not worry – she reflected that his comings and goings had been well-timed thus far. She noted the line of graves, newly covered, between the tree stumps that she had passed on her way into Neechaall. A miner was shovelling the soil onto the last of the hasty burial spots. She counted. Seven. None of the miners died. That is incredible! She saw Travakane coming back from the town centre and was about to call him over, when she saw he was already coming towards her.

  “Eshezy!” He seemed strangely different from the suspicious, almost surly man she had met the ‘night’ before. “How is your leg?”

  “Pretty good.” She looked him over, deciding that he had the makings of a fine leader and wondering if he was much older than her. He looks it, but that could be the result of three years in a mine! “How is the town? How many are on look-out?”

  “We have checked a few buildings, but everything seems to be just as it always is. As for our early warning system, I have ten positioned in total, five at the outskirts and five more a few houses further in, ready to run and bring us a message if they get the signal.”

  “And the rest?”

  “Getting grain for more bread, except for the burial team. Gefforen promised to show us how to make the fluffy kind!”

  Eshezy smiled at this and realised suddenly how hungry she still was. “We must get ready to move – at least some of us – but first I must help the defenders we leave here to understand how to use the soldier’s swords.”

  “I am glad you said it that way – Hatkavana and Krilishmal cannot be moved.” His character was confirmed to Eshezy by his insistence on this. “I don’t think Mathmally should move much either, but we may have to tie him up to keep him still.”

  Eshezy smiled, strangely familiar with such impatience, though she had not yet met anyone in Terraless with the characteristics of this man. I didn’t notice him, inside the bakery… I wonder if he had already sneaked out?

  “I am concerned.” She said, as a sudden thought came to her. “When was the last time a new ‘arrival’… arrived?”

  “Not sure.” Travakane considered this.

  “It was Shenanik, and he arrived twelve days ago.” Gefforen supplied the answer. “The miners spend so much time away from Neechaall, they aren’t usually here when one comes.”

  “And so, when will the next one come, do you think?”

  “It isn’t a regular thing.” Gefforen responded.

  “Show me where they appear.”

  Gefforen and Eshezy walked off towards the centre of town with Travakane and Harthangan in close attendance. Gefforen showed her the smallish hut, near the temple.

  “And how do you find out?” Eshezy could feel the tension in the air and realised it came from their proximity to the monument to Seirchaal, but she turned away from it, refusing to give it power over her.

  “Usually the soldiers check each morning and bring them out. Sometimes they just wander out by themselves and into the square.”

  Eshezy could see that neither of the miners had known this and was grateful once more that she had brought her smaller friend with her. “Let’s do that… Let’s check. Seeing as the soldiers are not going to for a while, at least!” She stepped to the door and pulled it open. Inside it was dark, as there were no windows, and she waited for her eyes to adjust. Across the dirt floor she saw a raised platform with a pile of worn rags. “Shisssssh!” She exclaimed, as the pile moved. “Do you have rats here?”

  “Rats?” Gefforen looked at her blankly and stepped in, partly blocking the light from the doorway.

  “Who’s there?” A faint voice came from the pile.

  Eshezy was surprised as Gefforen immediately approached the platform and knelt at the edge, showing no fear.

  “It’s me, Gefforen.”

  Eshezy dropped cautiously to kneel on her left knee, bending the other leg slowly. She stopped and returned to a standing position, as the tightness in her recently scabbed wound increased to a worrying level. This will take time to heal – I must be careful. She could see better now and noted the two miners had stepped inside and positioned themselves each side of the doorway, so the light was not blocked. There, before her eyes, was a small girl, sitting up now, on the rags. She looks about the same age as Jeraldanine. Seirchaal likes his slaves young. The girl was dressed in a mud-encrusted assemblage of strangely familiar clothing – her upper body was only covered with a single layer of fabric and the right side seemed to cover her shoulder, whereas the left was ragged there, revealing the pale skin and some scratches. Her lower body was even more basically attired and her legs were entirely bare. Eshezy’s eyes widened as she recalled the terminology. Shorts!

  As Eshezy was making these discoveries, Gefforen was bent over her, making her own. “You are safe now.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.” The young girl reached up and pulled Gefforen to her, hugging her and sobbing into her shoulder. Gefforen crumpled onto the platform and her arms enfolded the child.

  Eshezy found her eyes were blurry, and she blinked to clear them.

  “I know her.” After some intense moments, Gefforen managed to twist and talk over the head buried against her chest. “I don’t understand. No one here ever knew anyone!”

  Yes, that would mean there was something before… that Seirchaal lied. Eshezy looked over at the two miners, noting their confusion. “Gefforen. You must stay here with her, and I will go to the mine with Travakane and Hartha
ngan.” She saw the instant panic in the easily scared face. “Don’t worry; I won’t go until we eat your fluffy bread and I will be back in time for the next meal, or maybe the one after.”

  Gefforen nodded and looked down at the head still pressed tightly against her. “She needs me!” The obvious truth of this was clearly something this girl had never experienced before – at least, in her sojourn in Terraless – and it was having a profound effect on her.

  “Come on.” Eshezy gestured to the miners and they left the two girls and walked out into the sunshine – or what seemed to Eshezy to be almost like sunshine. Once a few yards from the still open door, she looked at Travakane as they walked, then reached for his shoulder, stopped him and faced him. “What do you make of that?”

  “I can’t make anything out of it.” Travakane rubbed his chin through his beard. He was clearly still thinking through what he had heard. “I just know that she must be right – and that the new person looks like a smaller version of Gefforen.”

  “Yes. Smaller. Younger.” She held back her own conclusions, realising, with a sudden flash of insight, that it would be better to let the Neechaallites figure this out for themselves. It certainly will bring Seirchaal down a few notches, and that makes me very pleased!

  “I think it is time for you to show me the soldier’s quarters.” Eshezy changed the subject, wondering what she might learn from such a place.

  “It will be the first view for me, too.” Travakane responded as he turned towards that destination.

  “It’s not that impressive.” Harthangan offered his opinion as they walked. “I looked it over when we needed to find tools to dig the graves.”

  Eshezy looked at him, expecting more and making a gesture for him to continue.

  “No need.” He responded. “We are already there.”

  Travakane watched as Harthangan pulled open the rough wooden door. They stepped inside.

  The first thing Eshezy noticed was the bars across the windows. “To keep them in?”

  “No.” Travakane grinned at the thought. “Though I like the idea. I think it was to keep us out, in case someone got ideas about attacking them as they slept.”

  Eshezy wandered around, looking at the bunks, the storage shelves and the piles of clothing. Some of the fabric looked homemade, but she found a small scrap of fabric that was evenly and finely woven and seemed strangely familiar. Picking it up, she determined from the torn edges that it was only a fragment of a much larger garment, but there was an image of an animal’s head towards one edge, the mouth open, the background dark and a strange mist drifting from the tooth-lined orifice. I know this… beast. I have seen it… and not here in Terraless!

  Putting the tantalising piece aside, she turned to the stack of shiny metal in the rack in the corner and found that there were several unfinished swords in the eclectic mix. Pulling one out, she checked it carefully, comparing it to her own weapon. Heavy… strong, but no crosspiece to protect the hand… she felt sure that such a component would have a proper name, but her fragmentary recollections of something prior to her first awakening in her Fortress did not supply it. She sighed and gave the incomplete weapon to Travakane. “It is not properly finished, but it may be enough.”

  Travakane nodded and found a scabbard hanging from a peg nearby. He attached it to his belt and slid the sword in. The sound of air whistling past a fast-moving object made him turn, and he chuckled as he saw Harthangan slashing wildly at imaginary enemies with another poorly completed sword.

  “I think this one will do me.” He pointed with the blade. “There is a shed out here, where they sometimes have a very hot fire. I think it may have something to do with the swords.”

  The three unbolted the back door and stepped out to see what was there. A large metal-covered surface dominated the interior of the small building, though it was dented and scratched from some kind of heavy service. In the back corner, a brick-lined fireplace stood, cold and half-filled with ashes. Eshezy picked up a very heavy hammer and immediately noticed the impressive quality of the wooden handle. Looking closer, she found a recessed section on the side of the hammer head and was puzzled by the scoring, which seemed intended to obliterate the uniform patterns there, patterns that once must have been clear to observe. This seems familiar too. There are connections here; I am just not seeing clearly enough!

  A little later, once the bread had been baking for a while, Eshezy showed some moves to the more-than-willing new swordsmen. She marvelled at the difference between her beautifully balanced but short sword, with its snug scabbard, and the bigger but roughly shaped, cumbersome weapons taken from the dead soldiers. Everything Seirchaal creates seems to be poorly fashioned! She Who I cannot as yet put a name to, is a better role model, in so many ways!

  “If they come, they won’t know how inexperienced and unpractised we are.” One of the swordsmen offered this as his opinion; his tough body was one of the few that had not received any injury in the melee and his confidence consequently seemed boundless. “When they see we outnumber them, they will probably back off.”

  “I suggest you cut some wooden swords and practice some more with them, once we are gone.” Eshezy commented, flexing her aching right leg and finding it a little stiff after her basic instruction session. “Just in case they call your bluff, Ragastang. These soldiers have been watching you at your mine for years; I don’t suppose they saw you demonstrating good fighting techniques out there, did they? You may have been lucky with that stool and the bread pan, but I can assure you I could have sliced you several times during our little play-fight.”

  Ragastang’s bravado was slightly diminished by this, but Eshezy was sure the effect would only be temporary. He’s the kind of guy that sings about beautiful mornings during … Her expression, fortunately not visible to the miner, was both frustrated and intrigued, as she recalled the white flakes that she somehow knew could come from above, but not the name for the heavenly effect. Soon the bread was brought out of the ovens, and – Gefforen’s less than continuous supervision notwithstanding – was pronounced a great success, and all were soon hungrily devouring the soft-crusted loaves and throwing apples to each other in a state of excitement.

  Eshezy did not stay to eat, but left immediately the last loaf was brought forth, slinging her quiver onto her shoulder and grasping her bow with what she knew was an exaggerated feeling of relief. She waved farewell to Gefforen and the new girl (Tresnian – as she had declared with self-certainty, when the two of them had come from the ‘arrival’ hut just in time to join the eaters of the bread) and to the others. Eshezy continued to marvel at this latest discovery, as now that the girl was out of the dark hut, cleaned up a little and supplied with fresh, local clothing, her appearance and familiarity was even more obvious. I’m sure, she is – she must be… her sister! This was also frustrating, as the concept of ‘sister’ was fuzzy to her, in a land where all had arrived, as though delivered by angular white birds… Hmm. That’s right; that’s what’s missing from the sky! I haven’t seen any birds, white, or otherwise. Surely there must be some? What about the arrow fletches?

  Taking fresh loaves with them to eat on the way, Travakane led Eshezy out to the side of the town farthest from the river. As they walked from the bakeshop, they passed close to the temple, though Eshezy noted the two miners gave it a cautious three-yard clearance. A sudden question came to her as the feeling of uneasiness caused by her nearness made the faint hairs on her arms tingle.

  “Have you ever been inside?”

  Startled looks confirmed her assumption that they had not.

  “I must see if there is more to be learned…” Eshezy walked boldly to the double doors, noting that her miner guides followed reluctantly but stayed back as she put her free hand out towards the carved wood. The air became increasingly charged with static and the illumination from the beast in the sky seemed to dim as she drew near, but she resisted the impulse to react to the intimidation imposed by her proximity. This is q
uite good workmanship! She was surprised, thinking no one in Neechaall capable of such finesse. Just before her fingers touched the surface, she stopped, the feeling of evil becoming almost overpowering. I will hold off for now. She had the strange feeling that even the slightest, quietest contact would have repercussions that would resound through Terraless like the clash of two swords in a room full of sleeping soldiers. I do not want to announce my presence, not before I know some more about this world, and the mine – heck, I don’t even know what they are mining for!

  She glanced at Travakane, noting his relief as she stepped away.

  “We can be at the mine before you feel hungry again.” He promised, as they walked off into the trees.

  You think! You don’t know how much I miss that meat! Eshezy followed her guides out of the town and up the hill, frustrated that the ache in her leg continued to grow, causing her to grimace as she tried to keep close behind them. She counted her paces for a while to take her mind off the pain, then got distracted, as she reached two hundred and fifty-six, by the marked change in the closely-packed trees and the increased slope of the ground. Instead of apple and what must – she thought – be another kind of fruit tree, (though she could not recall the name of the more pointy fruits hanging from the nearby branches), mixed in with several non-fruit trees which seemed somewhat familiar to her, the variety had changed so that there were now very few trees that were deciduous – almost all of them were evergreens. It brought to mind the view she had zoomed in on, from her Fortress, the previous day. Inevitably this retrospective thought caused her to worry about what was happening there, so she tried to walk a little more quickly, but instantly regretted the attempt. Maybe Rauffaely will be at the mine, when we get there?

  Eshezy began to limp, almost hopping to keep moving at a respectable pace. Just when she thought she might need to request a pause, as her leg was throbbing and each time she put her right foot down a small, sharp jab of pain went shooting down into her ankle, she saw a break in the trees ahead.