Terraless

by Thorby Rudbek

  “Hey, Eshezy!” Travakane called as they passed the halfway point of the distance. “What about that last soldier? Kartilagburg. He could be out here – you shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  “He’s gone away.” She shouted with certainty, though she could not explain how she knew. “I think he is headed towards another village – another town.”

  “Another village?” Harthangan muttered. His expression was puzzled, and he looked around as they cleared the benign embrace of the wings – drawing nearer to her – as if he would be able to catch a glimpse of this distant collection of buildings, though he had never before thought about the possibility of another Seirchaal-established community.

  Eshezy walked back towards them and they met about halfway between the tall grasses and the end of the nearest wing. “I’m glad you came out here. I want to talk, but not inside. I can think more clearly out here.” She looked briefly puzzled as an impression came to her, then continued. “Basrillene, could you go and ask Gefforen if she would join us here?”

  He almost balked at the idea, then decided that he would not argue with the admirable Eshezy, passed her the three arrows he had commandeered and nodded politely. A moment later, he was running off, the sooner to be back.

  “Good morning gentlemen!” She bowed to each of the one-time-miners as Basrillene reached the back door, pleased to see that they had made use of the wonderful facilities in her Fortress and that they had been supplied with better quality clothing: each was wearing what looked like lightweight leather jackets over thick cotton shirts – Travakane’s was a pale blue, and Harthangan’s was an equally pale green. She glanced down and noted each had trousers of material which she could not immediately identify – it was almost as reflective as the leather of the jackets, but could be seen to have been woven, though the weave was almost as coarse as fine rope. I wonder what that stuff is – it doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen here before… and how on Terraless was it made. And who by, I wonder?

  “Glad you are well, my lady!” Harthangan nodded, his wording more polite than anything that she had heard before. He glanced at her for a moment, taking in the impressive spread of her hair across her shoulders – with a thick section caught on her left shoulder, dropping down, draping over a portion of her neck and upper chest before hanging almost to her waist. He looked away, returning to his examination of the field of grass behind her, making a show of not being quite convinced by her definitive, intentionally reassuring declaration of safety.

  Eshezy smiled, flattered by this deference and not unaware of the effect she seemed to be having on him. She looked at Travakane, wondering how his night had been and who had organised the lookouts that she could still see from time to time as she glanced up at the upper level of the wing behind her two favourite strongmen.

  Travakane looked back at Eshezy, wondering if he could bring up his concern or if it would be considered too intrusive. After all, it is her special place…

  “Out with it!” She realised immediately that something was bothering him. “I’m your friend, not another governor!”

  Travakane smiled, but he seemed a little nervous, and the effect of this was to raise her level of concern and concentration, so that she forgot all about strange fabrics and left off her intended perusal of footwear for another occasion.

  “Please!” There’s that word again… clearly, I am not like that governor. I’ll have to talk to that person, I suppose, assuming he is recovered, and willing to respond.

  “It’s just that there isn’t enough space for everyone – not that anyone is complaining, mind you – but I wondered if you could do something about it.” He continued to look at her and his expression now appeared to be morphing into something akin to trepidation.

  “What is going on?” She looked at Harthangan, demanding his attention, which was still on the vast grassland beyond, hoping for a clearer response, hoping his focus would return.

  “Well, there are eight bedrooms on each level of each wing.” Harthangan responded as he looked at her again, apparently annoyed that he was being burdened with the responsibility of doing the explaining, whilst Travakane, in contrast, looked greatly relieved. “Each room has from one to four beds, and so each floor has about twenty-five beds.”

  “I think it’s only twenty-four. And aren’t there nine bedrooms in some of the wings?” Travakane interjected.

  “Do you want to tell this, or shall I?”

  Travakane shook his head. “Oh, sorry – you are doing great – so far!”

  “Wait a moment.” Eshezy had been doing some quick calculations. “Even with twenty-eight – assuming nine bedrooms with an average of three beds and one room with an extra bed – that’s only a hundred and twelve beds. Where did they put everyone?” She looked back at the small back entrance to her Fortress, hoping that Basrillene would make a reappearance and help clear this all up. We can make some more beds, get wood from the forest, though I doubt there would be any space left in each room once they were installed!

  “It’s not that bad…” Harthangan paused. Clearly, he was looking for the right words. “Only about twenty or so have had to take turns with beds and so, with the watches and their runners, it’s worked out quite well.”

  Fortuitously, Basrillene finally returned and Gefforen came with him.

  “You’ve been here longer.” Eshezy looked at the young organiser, sure he would be able to make sense of this. “Where are you putting everyone?”

  “It’s the other floors.” Basrillene commented, as if that made everything clear. “Your Fortress is a wonderful place!”

  “You don’t need to be polite about this – I’m not insulted. We can figure out some way to make more room – I never thought there would be a problem, though.”

  “Are you trying to upset Eshezy?” Gefforen sounded quite indignant and this unexpected boldness impressed everyone, though she did not stop there. “It’s magical. Some of the Neechaallites have worked out a way to describe it and to avoid getting lost.”

  “Getting lost? Surely it isn’t that big? I thought I just heard it was too small!” Eshezy started to feel annoyed and was displeased with herself for feeling so, especially as Gefforen clearly was trying to avoid such an effect. “Can no-one explain this in simple terms?”

  Gefforen took her heroine by the hand. “Please.”

  There’s that word again. I must keep my cool, or they will think I am like Carranavak! She smiled, trying to be reassuring, though the confusion made it difficult.

  “Some of the stair turrets go to the first floor, and some go to the … second.” Gefforen spoke slowly, trying to find the clearest way to explain something that she had barely learned about herself and could not understand in the slightest. “At least, that’s what they decided to call each one. That’s what I’ve been trying to say. It’s magical! I’ll show you.” She turned Eshezy gently towards the nearest wing and led her closer to the Fortress, until they were below the end window of the wing termed ‘first’. “Look up there. Can you see Athanashal?”

  Eshezy looked up and saw the blue-eyed lad.

  He leaned out the open window and called down a brief greeting.

  “Hey, Athanashal, can you still see the trees in the woods?”

  He nodded.

  Gefforen called up to him: “She doesn’t know about the floors yet! Could you step away from the window for a moment?”

  Athanashal nodded and backed away.

  The room seemed to flicker and Eshezy worried for a moment that there might be a fire, though the colouration was wrong for that, seeming to be more a blue glow than the yellows and reds of combustion. Startled, she noticed that the window was now closed, though she had not seen him operate the mechanism before he backed away. Ah, now he’s opening it again!

  “Nice to see you, Eshezy!” Shenanik called down as he pushed the glass sheet, making the lower part of the window swing out. “I’ll have to work this one a few more times – they all seem to b
e a bit stiff the first time they’re opened!”

  “The first time? What about Athanashal?” Why are you both working at the same time, in the same room? She looked at Basrillene, wondering if his organisational skills were quite as good as she had presumed. “Couldn’t he have a rest while the other one works?”

  Basrillene smiled and shook his head. “You really don’t know?” He looked at the others in embarrassed amazement.

  “Hey, I haven’t been to most of the floors, only the two in that wing, in fact!” Eshezy still was confused, but was starting to enjoy the interactions between the people she had come to love. “I’ll come in and look over the other wings, check out all of those floors – that’d be another six to view – shouldn’t take too long.”

  Gefforen waved to Shenanik, clearly not finished with her explanation. “Back away, please, but close the window first!”

  The young lad obliged, pulling the frame back in and then backing away until he was out of sight. Again, the blue glow flickered for a moment and the window seemed to have opened of its own accord. Athanashal was already looking out, and this startled her even more.

  Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle interlocked in her mind, giving her understanding, and Eshezy fell to her knees, tears in her eyes. “Oh, She Who’s Name I still don’t know! Thanks be to You!”

  There was a lot of back-slapping behind her and some quiet murmuring.

  Gefforen dropped down beside her and closed her eyes for a moment. She held the pose for as long as she could, then slipped around so she was in front of her personal idol. “We’ll get used to it – maybe!”

  Eshezy shook her head, wiping away the tears. “I hope we never do.” And I thought I was clever, putting doors in my area and managing to move a bolt without looking away! Here, there’s more floors than I can explain, and a bunch of villagers that look more adjusted to it than I feel – right now!

  She left the subject of floors for a moment and talked to her impromptu ‘Fortress management council’, learning – really a quick summary – of all of the wonderful supplies that had been found in the well-stocked storerooms, how the kitchens – there were four – were each equipped with four ovens capable of baking twenty loaves of bread at a time, and how the fruit drinks seemed to replenish themselves once the bottles were returned to their racks. Who figured that one out, I wonder? She listened as long as she could, though she had noticed something strange about the light from the sun creature and was distracted by this intrusive impression. It seems to be getting darker. Though it is not sinking lower. How can that be?

  Finally, she indicated that she was going for a walk through the many corridors of her Fortress and hinted to the group that she would be going with Gefforen… just Gefforen!

  Only Basrillene seemed perturbed by this. Eshezy attributed this to his managerial role and the time he must have put into the task while she had been investigating the mine and burning selected parts of Neechaall to ashes.

  Once inside the kitchen area, she let Gefforen lead her around to the wing she had previously visited and ascended the same spiral staircase that she had scaled just a couple of days earlier. She then walked with Gefforen along the corridor, passing a number of windows that showed the ground outside, one floor below.

  “See? This is my room – I share it with Tresnian and Jeraldanine.” Gefforen opened the door, and there were the two youngsters, chatting and playing with some clothing stuffed with rags and held together with fine twine, which Eshezy realised, after a moment of confusion, were actually hand-made and very basic dolls.

  Immediately they saw her, there were shrieks and she was buried in a pile of young bodies. Eshezy enjoyed their enthusiasm, thinking how they were more like regular children now than she could have imagined. I never thought they could revert so completely! How encouraging!

  “We’ll come back soon.” Gefforen told them as she pulled Eshezy from their clutches after the initial euphoria subsided to manageable levels. As they walked down the corridor, she made a show of tip-toeing up to the end room, and so Eshezy did likewise, though her soft boots were inherently silent on the smooth wood of the floor. They looked in and saw Athanashal; he was still dutifully watching from his window. They moved soundlessly away, without disturbing him and Gefforen took Eshezy to go back down the same stairwell. “This is floor one and the others labelled all the staircases when we were busy going to Neechaall and back – this one is number seven.”

  Eshezy looked and saw that there were seven vertical scratches in the stonework on the handle-side of the door frame. There must be an easier way to indicate that!

  “We’ll go back down this one – not that it matters which one we use; they all go back to the ground floor.”

  Eshezy nodded, finding this aspect of the magic to be very ordinary indeed.

  “Next, we’ll go up the one at the corner, near your original Fortress. That one is called stair two. They numbered them this way so that you can tell where you’re going – any even numbered stairs go to the second floor.”

  “And the odd-numbered ones go to the first floor.” Eshezy finished the idea, fixing the concept in her mind. I hope! As they climbed the stair, Eshezy surreptitiously watched her companion, trying to decide if she was right to include her in the plans she was making. She seems so confident now – but that’s probably because she feels so much safer, back in my fabulous Fortress, with her sister and Jeraldanine to look after. Hmm… there’s another word for that – perhaps it will come to me… later. Still, the more I ponder, the more I think I’ll need her with me, though of course I can’t ‘see’ quite why or what for, yet.

  “Here’s the room that looks like it should be mine.” Gefforen continued, blissfully unaware of the evaluation being conducted on her as they walked along the corridor. “I’ll knock.” And she did.

  Eshezy glanced out the window from the corridor to the ground below and saw that this floor was at the same height as the first one. Two floors, or just one? Intriguing!

  After a moment, the door opened and one of the miners whose name was not yet known to Eshezy put his head out.

  “Hi, Eshezy!” He stuck out his hands and grabbed her by the shoulders, giving her a kind of distance hug, as he was clearly in awe of her. “Thank you for your quick action yesterday. I thought that I was in trouble, and then you turned and hit him in the stomach.”

  She looked at him as he released her and stepped back a pace or two, making sure that she remembered his appearance – now that he was cleaned up and dressed in an ensemble similar to that of Travakane and Harthangan, though his shirt was a dark red – she noted his rather wavy dark hair, which hung to his shoulders, his solid, perhaps a little unimaginative aura, his rather plain brown eyes, and his slightly turned-up nose. “And you are called?”

  “Oh, sorry.” He looked a little disappointed that she did not already know this personal detail. “I’m called Derkfragmal.”

  She looked behind him, into the room, working to convince herself that she was indeed on a different floor and saw a rough wooden box with a partly carved block of wood on the top. He noticed her gaze and turned to pick the work-in-progress up.

  “It’s for Tresnian.” He showed her the rounded end and the split in the other extremity. “It’s a doll – or it will be.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Eshezy hoped it would be. Though it certainly isn’t recognisable yet! “You are clearly a man of imagination and care!” She found herself wondering at how she had pegged him quite differently and berated herself for her ‘type-casting’. “I’ll talk to you again, Derkfragmal, I promise!”

  Gefforen took her down towards the far end, made a show of tip-toeing up to the end room as she had on floor one and Eshezy looked in and saw Shenanik, who was also dutifully watching from his window, though his was closed. They moved away exactly as they had on the other floor, without disturbing him either, and Gefforen led Eshezy, planning to go back down what was labelled as the same stairwell as on the othe
r floor. “This is floor two, of course, but it goes to the ground floor, and ends up where the stair from level one ends – confusing, isn’t it?” She continued without waiting for a response: “So they labelled it number seven, like the other one!”

  Eshezy noted the seven scratched vertical lines and especially the fact that the central scratched line was not as straight as the others, unlike the more perfectly scribed ones on level one. Incredible! Just shows what can be done with a little imagination… and a lot of power!

  As they stepped out into the ground floor corridor she turned, without letting the door close behind her and got a most quizzical look on her face. “This one is supposed to take us to level one, ‘cos it’s an odd-numbered stair, but I haven’t closed the door.” She looked at Gefforen with an almost mischievous grin on her face. “Let’s see what happens!”

  Gefforen grinned back and they rushed back up, popping out and sneaking back down to the end room. The impulse to giggle overcame Gefforen; Eshezy made a show of covering her mouth in an ineffective example to the teenager, as they both saw that it was Shenanik. Not caring anymore about noise, they rushed back to the stairwell and hurried down. This time they made sure the door closed completely behind them.

  “What did I tell you?” Eshezy was grinning now, mostly because of the entertainment her experiment had proved to be for Gefforen. “I think we’d better go the regular route now, don’t you?” Seeing agreement in the still giggling face, she reopened the door and climbed back to the top.

  Both were a little exhausted now by the weirdness of it all.

  Eshezy led on the walk back to the vicinity of Derkfragmal’s room. Or would it be Gefforen’s room? It should be! When she opened the door, she was both pleased and relieved to find the two girls inside, playing in complete self-absorption. But it’s funny how there aren’t quite enough rooms. Must be a reminder from She to me to be willing to fix things, like I did with the door to my bedroom. I’d better ‘think up’ a few extra beds for some of the rooms with only one or two, so everyone has their own, personal sleeping spot! Or even better, I could put some beds in the empty rooms upstairs by my bedroom… that would prove that I’m not trying to keep the house exclusively as the personal home portion of my Fortress! Eshezy reflected on her status with the others – the ex-Neechaallites – and considered her attitude, wondering if she was already giving herself ‘airs’. But if I do fill those rooms, I think I’d better see if I can conjure them up a bathroom to share and move myself to the big room first, so that I have a bathroom to myself; I’m not losing that luxury!