There, laid out on a mat of battered tree fragments and sawdust-laced semi-dry mud, was a buttressed entranceway, the surrounding hillside being overlaid with rough planks, held together with massive, block-headed wooden pegs, to a distance of ten yards both sideways and above the head-high hole.
“This is it.” Travakane stated the obvious and pointed ahead, when it became clear that Eshezy was not going to enter immediately.
“You haven’t told me what you were mining for.”
“You didn’t ask.” Harthangan grinned as he looked at Travakane and then at her. “We were told we would know when we found it.”
Incredible! Eshezy stepped forwards, shaking her head slowly. She leaned her bow up against the left hand outer pillar and slipped her quiver off her shoulder, letting it slip down to the ground by the pillar. As she entered the opening, she saw the walls inside were also lined with wood and that there were roughly hewn lengths of tree trunks in the centre of the passageway, holding up crosspieces of three-inch thick planks. She put her hand on the third trunk she had come to, feeling the strength and taking the weight off her right leg.
“We had a lot of cave-ins, further in, and decided to line the whole tunnel, right the way back to the entrance, for safety.” Travakane stepped up beside her and the light filtering past them into the tunnel was almost blocked. “Take a few more steps, carefully.”
Trusting the stalwart miner, Eshezy moved on, keeping one hand on the right-hand wall, moving it carefully forwards with each pace. As she did so, the tunnel seemed to brighten, and she realised that the wall-planking had been painted with some kind of luminous substance. “This is clever.”
“We found it in a nearby natural cave, on the rocks which lined it.” Travakane replied as they walked deeper. “It’s a kind of living thing, and it likes the dark.”
Eshezy leaned closer to one of the planks and her eyes zoomed in. Moss! She recalled the concept of bioluminescence, though the terminology did not come to mind. “How far does this go?”
“Keep walking.”
And so, she did. As her eyes gradually adjusted, Eshezy saw further beams and supporting tree trunks and after a while, evidence of new construction ahead. She realised that the entire working was about a hundred yards long, though it was not very straight and so probably was not more than two-thirds that distance into the hillside.
“You should probably stop here.” Travakane suggested diffidently. “The rest isn’t braced yet.”
Taking his advice, she stopped by the last central trunk and stared ahead into the gloom. “How do you see to work?”
“Your eyes adapt in time. It takes a while to get used to the daylight, after a full work session in here.”
“And you really have no idea what you are looking for?”
“Sometimes a couple of the soldiers come in and look at the new diggings. I’m not sure they knew what they were looking for either, but they sure acted like they did.”
“What’s Harthangan doing?” Eshezy noticed her other companion had not followed them into the tunnel.
“He’s keeping a look-out for soldiers and wild animals.”
“You mean, anything that might be bad for us, down in this single-exit tunnel?” Eshezy grinned in the gloom. “Go and see how he’s doing; I’ll just stop here and think for a while.”
“Okay.” Travakane turned and left, but not before she saw that his thoughts had jumped to magical conclusions regarding her purpose in solitary contemplation.
Eshezy stood perfectly still, all her weight on her left leg, and closed her eyes. The ground around her seemed to breathe. She could feel the weight of rock over her head and the fact that there was something different about the rock immediately ahead. She imagined zooming in with her eyes, though they were closed, and could sense movement. A collapse? No… Something is coming! She opened her eyes slowly, finding the remaining portion of the tunnel to be easy to see along, even into the newest diggings, where none of the moss had yet been placed. Tools placed against the wall seemed familiar – she could name them: pickaxes, a shovel, a sledgehammer, chisels…
Before she could think of checking these apparently finely-crafted tools, the uneven rock wall seemed to shift at the end – still some ten yards ahead of her, but much closer, according to her magical eyes. She crouched down, trying to keep from bending her right knee, ignoring the pain as best she could, and then sat on the dirt and waited, stretching her wounded leg out in front of her with a sigh of relief.
More movement of soil. Soil? Now the rock is soil! The mysteriously softened rock fell easily away, revealing the glint of an eye – bigger than hers – perhaps twice the size – and brown-rimmed, almost luminous in the gloom. Just one? Eshezy felt a sense of peace and security flood into her, and then the recently modified soil heaved and a single, huge paw – equipped with two glinting claws – burst out. She watched in awe as the velvet-covered creature pulled itself out of the ground and almost bounced across to her feet, the dirt falling off its sleek, dark coat as it moved effortlessly forwards. She held out her hands, palms up, and the rounded head with the huge central eye lifted up and touched each hand in turn, the stiff whiskers on each side of the surprisingly tiny mouth contacting with incredible lightness. It tickles! She found herself grinning, almost holding her breath and she let the last inhalation out slowly as the two-yard-long, slender body arched up and the rear leg was revealed.
Rauffaely’s ‘nuah’ sounded beside her and Eshezy realised that her best friend must have been sitting in the shadows all along. He stopped beside the creature and licked the face when it briefly lowered to regard him. Immediately her faithful companion sank to the uneven floor and rolled over, exposing his soft underside to view. Eshezy was concerned when she saw a ragged tear in the lightly-furred area and the glistening of blood, but the creature lowered its mouth, obscuring Rauffaely almost entirely from view. He hid that injury from me, so I wouldn’t be worried! Or maybe… he has encountered some of the wild animals people keep talking about.
Eshezy felt directed to lower herself to the ground also, so she stretched out on her stomach on the uneven surface and was reaching out to touch the jagged tear as soon as the strange creature’s head pulled away. Her breath caught as she saw that the wound was gone – not just healed, but literally erased. Somehow, she was not surprised when the single eye came up to her head and looked deep into her two eyes, first the right and then the left. The explanation for this momentous meeting sprang into her mind and she recognised the creature’s tender expression. You are here because She Who I Cannot Name sent you to the mine and Rauffaely called you to me!
The long eyelashes moved as the peaceful creature blinked agreement. Eshezy rolled over, pulling the bandage loose, relaxed on her back beside the wall and closed her eyes. She felt the touch of the smooth, warm tongue on her leg and the pain and stiffness there faded rapidly away. As the beast moved up towards her head, she pulled the tunic down and away from her neck and again felt the delicate touch of the tongue on the battered bone at the centre of her chest. And I never even looked at that wound!
Eshezy sat up, reached out reverently and stroked the velvety flanks of this benevolent being. It looked deep into her eyes again and a faint rumble could be discerned, coming from the throat of this amazing healer. She could feel the incredibly long spine through the thick, dark fur and noted the unique way the front and back legs were as thick as the slender body. I could almost circle this gentle creature with the span of both my hands! But what power it has… and what tenderness!! It circled in front of her, looking as if it were seeking a suitable resting spot and then it lay down across her lap, pulling its feet up against its sleek underside, closing its eye and becoming quite limp. She knew immediately what she had to do.
“And she said to just leave her in there and so you did?” Harthangan looked at Travakane, doubting this strange tale, though he contrarily had never thought to question anything his impressively bearded friend had said o
n any previous occasions.
“I think she may have–” Travakane began, but stopped abruptly as a low rumble grew rapidly and the ground under his feet shook. Turning to the tunnel entrance, he saw a great cloud of dust burst forth. Collapse!
“Eshezy!” Harthangan ran towards the entrance and almost collided with Eshezy as she walked out, her left hand covering her nose and mouth. He stopped a foot or so in front of her and reached out, wanting to reassure himself that she was unharmed, as something seemed to have distorted her neck.
“We must hurry back to Neechaall; we must all be safe inside the Fortress within the next ‘eat period’!” Eshezy announced as she nimbly dodged out of his way and stepped lightly towards Travakane.
“We can’t move the three!” Travakane objected strenuously, baffled by both the illogical announcement and the long roll of fur which now hung around her neck and down below her waist on each side. “If we do, they will die!”
Eshezy laid a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes, showing her confidence in what she knew to him must seem a baffling command. “They will not die, not if we can get there without colliding with the enemy or any of those wild beasts you mentioned.” She looked sideways, focusing next on the still-battered Harthangan, to get his attention. “Guide us well, keep us safe, for you hold far more than the future of the Neechaallites in your hands now.” She took a deep breath, turned back into the dust cloud, collected her bow and quiver, bending effortlessly to pick the latter up, and ran to catch up with the two stalwart miners, the furry neck-warmer continuing to hang limply and inertly, almost to the lower edge of her repaired tunic.
Chapter Six
Stheinling
The next minutes were a blur. The three, or more correctly, four beings progressed down the hillside much, much more rapidly than during the approach to the mine. Eshezy watched as Harthangan and Travakane continued to hurry ahead of her, their poorly made swords held out in front of them like talismans, and she kept as close behind them as was humanly possible – or perhaps even closer. Pines, fruit trees, a gradual reduction of the downward slope – the return journey was completed in a little more than half the time of their outbound one. When they reached the outskirts of the town she stopped them and waited as they caught their breath. She, in curious contrast, was not breathing heavily at all.
“I want to be sure that we still hold Neechaall. Let’s move slowly now, and let me lead.” Eshezy stepped past them, her bow taut, an arrow ready to fly. She walked with them as they came near to the temple, the sensations it induced in her acting as an assurance that nothing had changed, though she knew this was illogical. As they approached the quarter near the bakery, the noise of wood banging on wood became apparent and then as they passed by the last hut blocking their view, several miners were revealed, flailing around rather ineffectually with their new-made, make-shift practice swords.
“Good!” Eshezy realised this was the proof that she needed, that the enemy had not overcome her liberated citizens. She put the arrow back into the quiver and noticed Harthangan sheathing his own weapon with a distinct sense of release on his face.
“Eshezy!” An excited Gefforen ran over and stopped, hesitant, as she saw the huge fur drape. “What’s–”
“Don’t speak of it.” Eshezy interrupted her abruptly. “No, I’m not cross.” She could see the look of abject contrition spring, full-fledged, to her young friend’s nervous face. “Can you show me where you sleep?”
Confused, but somewhat relieved, the blue-eyed disciple nodded and led her obediently to a hut some forty yards away. She contemplated commencing a conversation again, but one look at her heroine persuaded her not to attempt articulation and she restricted herself to a minimal motioning towards the door as they drew near.
Eshezy quickly scanned the building, realising that she had not given much more than a cursory glance to any of the rather rough and ready structures of Neechaall previously. She made a mental note of its characteristics: the thick, uneven planks, laid horizontally, with each upper edge jutting out above the one below, and the corner posts, which she now recognized as tree trunks with the bark and major irregularities stripped off. The planks were slotted into coarse grooves in the trunks, making a surprisingly tight fit. The doorway was much like the one for the ‘arrivals’ hut – made of roughly-split trunks, worked briefly to smooth the surface enough to prevent a major splinter hazard. The door was hinged with wooden pivots which stuck out slightly from the frame. How do they manage all this? Surely even this simple structure requires tools, and where do they get them from? Is there a secret stash, like that hammer? And what would I determine, if I could check the recessed surfaces of each of them?
Putting these mysteries aside for the moment, she pulled the door wide open and saw the simple room inside – a little larger than, but very similar to the arrivals hut in content. There were tall raised platforms on each side of the doorway and a third one under the single, rather small window on the wall opposite. The two on either side were in fact bunks, with a raised bunk above and one below in each, whereas the one under the window was a single bed. There were coarse ‘blankets’ laid out neatly on each bed, though the one under the window was bare. No padding… just a simple cover to keep the chill of the night off – except there really is no night… Still, it must be a rough sleep!
“We tried sleeping over there, but the breeze from the window makes it too cold. It’s not a bad place to sit and repair clothes.” Gefforen supplied helpfully from a few feet behind her, realising she could speak freely about these commonplace details.
“You really need glass there.” I bet it would get cold sometimes. I wonder who she shares this ‘home’ with? Tresnian would be one of them now, I hope? – If they ever lived here again! Eshezy turned as she contemplated the frugal lifestyle of the Neechaallites, noting that Travakane and Harthangan were watching from close behind Gefforen, anticipating (correctly) that she would have more directions for them.
“Put each of those two that are really in a bad way on a large plank or something similar and bring them to me here. Then, when I have finished with them, Mathmally and all the other injured men–”
“It’s too late for Hatkavana.” Gefforen interrupted, looked almost guilty, though she only announced this sad news. “Krilishmal still breathes, though.”
Eshezy grimaced. “I’ll see him first. How long ago did Hatkavana die?”
“Soon after you left.” This brief response was from Travakane.
Eshezy sighed. “I should have known that no deaths was unrealistic.” She lowered her gaze from the solemn faces of the miners and looked at her first friend in Terraless again. “Where is Tresnian?”
Gefforen grinned. “She’s with Jeraldanine.” She saw how surprised Eshezy was at this and hurriedly continued, happy to be able to convey a more positive account. “Jeraldanine told us all about it when she got here. Four soldiers arrived soon after you and I left the Fortress. Jeraldanine ran and told Basrillene that they had been seen, coming up the path. By then the grass around your Fortress had mostly been cut, and everyone was called inside and then Basrillene bolted the back door himself. The four started hacking at the door with their swords, until someone – I don’t know who – threw a long, pointed rod down from the window above and almost skewered the big one…”
“I think he’s called Karg.”
“Yes. They ran back and stopped at the well. No one wanted them to get any of the well water, so a few of the bigger guys tried out some more of those pointed rods.”
“They’re called spears – no…. javelins!” Eshezy interjected as the words seem to spring, like freshly opened flower buds, into the forefront of her mind. I wonder where they found such handy weapons. Was there a hidden supply in that huge, empty room next to the bath and hoop room? Perhaps ‘She’ guided them, as I was not there to do that… She recalled how the features of her Fortress had come to her attention gradually, as she found a need for them.
“Ok, javelins then.” Gefforen was getting used to the expressions Eshezy’s face went through when these communications from the unnamed but highly revered ‘She’ interrupted and illuminated conversations. “They managed to pull up a full bucket before any of the ‘javelin’ throwers figured out how to open the upper windows far enough to get into a good throwing position. As soon as the bucket was up they hurried back into the tall grasses with it, out of range.”
“They got some of that well water?” Travakane growled. “That’s not good.”
“She Who Has Not Yet Been Named would not allow it.” Eshezy smiled as this assurance flooded into her.
“How did you know?” Gefforen looked up at her adoringly, then shook her head and continued, not expecting an answer to her rhetorical query. “There were some screams.” Here she caught Eshezy’s eye and coloured as she realised how this could have been interpreted, had she been present. “Everyone looked out towards the high grass, and then they noticed. The well had gone – no wall, no hole, nothing.”
“And no bucket.” Eshezy surmised, certainty behind her apparent extrapolation. “Don’t worry, I can fix that when we get back.” Though I don’t really know quite how…!
“So, the soldiers came back out of the grass in a little while, and they grabbed some of the javelins and ran off again. When they came back, they tried to throw them at the upper windows. Only one actually hit the … glass. It made a big noise, but just fell down again. Basrillene assigned some more look-outs to keep watch from all of the upper passageways in Fortress and, when he could see that all four soldiers were still on the ‘well-side’, nearer the back door, or as near as they dared come, he had Jeraldanine let out the front door. Since you healed her with the well water, she just loves running!”
Terraless Page 9
