Terraless

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Terraless Page 17

by Thorby Rudbek


  “Ohhh! Thank you, Eshezy!”

  Gefforen, the only one so far who was aware of Eshezy’s ‘renovations,’ seemed to appreciate the reasoning behind this preferential room allocation and touched the taller, older girl on the forearm. “Hey, Sehnarah, I’ll show you where it is.”

  The next few minutes were a mixed bag of disjointed comments as Eshezy made her farewells to the many she had come to know well, and most especially to Jeraldanine and Tresnian. She made sure that all the others that crowded into the great hall to wish the companions a safe trip got a chance to speak to her personally, if that was their desire. Then she collected the heavily shackled prisoner and led her small team to the front door. The first time I have used it! She gestured briefly as she stopped just beyond the armoury and made sure that Carranavak saw how the five weighty bolts on the huge door slid simultaneously back in accordance with her will. I must make sure I use every opportunity to impress and subdue him, to overawe him, so he knows not to try anything.

  Once outside, she turned to the right and set off towards the distant woods, though all she could see from the ground was the bare patch of scythed grass stalk stubs and the tall, virgin growth beyond, blocking all further views, restricting her forward vision to the hundred yards or so of clear soil. I must ‘see’ with the help of ‘She’, or we will end up going in circles!

  The ‘morning’ was still quite young – i.e. it was not long after breakfast – and the sky was decorated with scattered fluffy clouds, as it invariably seemed to be. Eshezy realised she had not seen any rain in her days in Terraless. The breeze was mild, the air was fairly warm… and the sun creature was overhead, slipping behind clouds as they blew past. As the edge of the tall, uncut grasses drew nearer, she stopped, and – contrary to her advice to Gefforen – looked back. I may not see this again for … I wonder how long? She took in the long wing before her, noting the faces in many of the upper windows watching her little troop intently from the large openings. Wing two, and a little of wing one, too! Goodbye… She looked up, beyond the roofs of the wings and found a marvellous sight – there, stretching to an impossible height from the far end of wing three, was the slender and glistening tower; the grey stone of the lower surfaces seemed to shade gradually to white as the tower climbed ever higher. She had to lean back as she looked, to be able to see the top. Her eyes zoomed in to more clearly show the slightly broader platform at the apex. A familiar figure was framed in the nearest crenellation, his sandy-blond hair blowing wildly in the tremendous wind at that height, his arms waving a farewell salute.

  “Shenanik!”

  His mouth was open, but Eshezy could hear nothing from that great height and thought the wind must be carrying away his words. Looking to each side she saw her companions, but they were not looking up – they were looking at her. Oh! They can’t see it… I am sooo blessed. She held the bow aloft as a response and a final farewell to all, spun on the ball of her right foot and walked into the grass.

  Some time passed. Eshezy found the job of pushing through the tall growth to be tiring, the sound of the breeze in the tops of the incredible food source being the only reminder that there was anything beyond the immediate surroundings. Then the grasses started to thin out gradually until she found that there was a space just wide enough to walk through, with grasses hanging overhead, leaning in sometimes to form a roof over their heads. Reminds me of something, a scene from ‘before’, where constant flow – some kind of large… animals, no – objects, moving along a dark surface, had kept a way clear. But here, there are no footprints; I think ‘She’ has made this path for us!

  The pathway grew gradually wider until the grasses no longer touched overhead and Gefforen was able to come up and walk beside her. “Eshezy?” She smiled as her heroine favoured her with a friendly grin. “When I was up on the tower, I could see the parapet.” I didn’t try looking straight down, like you did! She recalled how she had braced herself against the comforting strength of the stonework, finding in it the assurance that she would not be blown over the edge. “But from outside, below, I couldn’t see anything… you did, though, didn’t you?”

  Eshezy nodded.

  “Can you still see it now?”

  “I don’t think so – didn’t you notice how we’ve been going down for some time? We are heading down to that dip that Travakane noticed. When we start up the other side, it will be lunch time. I expect I’ll be able to see it then.”

  “Walking makes me hungry.” Gefforen seemed almost ashamed to say it.

  “I think that means you are becoming healthier.” Eshezy thought it might help her young friend to understand some of the things about living that she could never have learned. There’s been no place for learning here. I suppose I set one up by telling Sehnarah to figure out the books. “The meat that we eat is a part of the good change that has come to you. There will be other things, too… thanks!” This last word was said as Gefforen steadied her. I love how she doesn’t fuss! “As you can tell, ‘She’ is always giving me guidance. That latest one was about some things that we will find down by the dip and further on – living things… plants, good to eat but kind of hidden. I’ll show you when I see some.”

  Behind her, Harthangan prodded their prisoner to keep him moving as the gap between his position and Eshezy was gradually increasing. “Get moving! If you keep up, I may even give you some food when we stop to eat.”

  Carranavak said nothing, but from his expression seemed to be growling in response, his hands close together in front of his chest, the leather-like restraining ‘shackles’ ensuring that his options were limited to walking and grimacing.

  A little further back, watching the bigger men from a few yards behind them, Athanashal stopped for a moment and looked back up the path they had followed from the Fortress. He found the manner in which the grasses had thinned as they moved further away from the security of their new home to be encouraging, as he recognised that it indicated that ‘She’ was preparing their way. The journey had been one where he could sometimes see Eshezy and Gefforen when the path twisted slightly, allowing him to look past the prisoner and the self-appointed guard, Harthangan and he found that was reassuring, though he had not worked out in his mind what the hidden purpose was in bringing the young teenage girl. Perhaps she is the unofficial cheering section! Athanashal regretted that thought as soon as it surfaced and tried to put it aside, though his self-directed honesty meant that he knew the thought was a part of his viewpoint on the strange new leader that he was willingly following into the unknown, after his move from a crude and subsistence level existence in Neechaall to a comparatively luxurious room with a soft bed in the stately passageways of Eshezy’s Fortress. I didn’t even have time to get used to it!

  Looking forwards again he realised that the others were quite a distance ahead, so he ran until he caught up with them and stopped abruptly, causing Harthangan to stop and look behind because of the sudden foot-pounding. “It’s okay, I was just getting a bit behind.”

  “Well, don’t.” Harthangan commented with asperity. “We don’t know what lives out this way and remember that brute Kartilagburg could turn up at any time.”

  Athanashal nodded, then automatically looked left and right. “I should try out this.” He held up the bow. “I’ll see if I can hit that small tree over there.”

  Harthangan checked out the sapling, growing at an angle in an area of thinner grasses about ten yards to the left of the trail. Then he checked ahead, seeing that Carranavak was still staggering slightly, having reached a spot some ten paces ahead of him and about the same distance behind Eshezy and Gefforen. “Yeah. I’d feel better if you knew how to use that thing. I’ll watch.”

  Athanashal pulled out an arrow and tried to duplicate the stance he had seen Eshezy use. It felt more difficult with Harthangan watching him intently. “Don’t expect too much. This is the very first time.” He pulled back a little harder and let go. “Ouch!” The string scraped down his forearm, raising a
welt.

  “You’d better go find it. We can’t afford to lose any arrows.” Harthangan grinned as he noted that the tree was untouched. “Be quick!” He hurried up the path, closing the gap with the prisoner, only feeling relieved of the tension that had built up as he reclaimed his normal monitoring position again.

  Athanashal walked off to the side, searching the ground just beyond the tree. I was sure it didn’t go that far. He was impressed when he located the arrow – by the colours of the feathers in the fletching, some ten yards beyond the spindly trunk, and was aware that only his remarkable quality of vision had prevented him from losing it forever in the undergrowth. He hurried back to the path and ran to catch up with the others.

  Eshezy found the trail curved right and the slope seemed to be fading into the horizontal, after a descent which had increased gradually since their departure. There were a number of apple trees, heavily laden, and she took a ripe fruit to eat as she walked on.

  Gefforen took one, too. I wish I could send one back for Tresnian. Her thoughts showed what she had so far successfully hidden from her heroine – the fact that being separated from the girl who was her sister – though she did not know either the terminology or the concept – was a painful experience for her, something that she would only do for one very special person. I’m so glad she has Jeraldanine to keep her company and guide her – though the two are likely to get into trouble with Basrillene, with all that energy they have!

  “Ah! Travakane was right – or almost.” Eshezy slowed. There, before them, was a wide and impressively deep gully with a broad floor of incredibly bright green grass deep within it. The level – or almost level – patch which they were entering was devoid of tall crop grass, there was only the short, fine kind which was almost as delicate as the blend used for golf greens. It was decorated here and there with wild flowers, like those she had seen at the alternate crossing on the River Venkanikam, though they were much sparser here.

  On the far side of the gully, the ground was similarly flat and just as green. Looking down at her feet, Eshezy noted signs of animal life: small brown spheres could be seen in piles, semi-hidden in the short grass there. I think this means rabbits! Eshezy was glad that the name of the long-eared creature came to her easily and also, she was pleased that such a mild creature lived in Terraless.

  “But there’s no water down there!” Gefforen had moved to the edge of the steep bank of the gully to make certain of this.

  “Don’t be so sure.” Eshezy noted that the other three had arrived and that Carranavak had immediately dropped onto the soft grass. She watched him breathing heavily and tried to discern if his weakness was studied or real. The scab on his arm looks quite dry…

  “I’ll see how easy it is to climb down.” Harthangan began as he took in the view, lowering his shoulder satchels on the ground with a faint sigh. “I think I’m tall enough to help you over the biggest drop.” Here he looked at Gefforen briefly.

  “I’d wait a moment.” Eshezy urged. “There’s something about that shade of green I haven’t seen before.”

  “We’ll see a lot more than funny colour grass on this journey.” Harthangan began to climb down the slope. “I think it would be better to–” He slipped, as a small hole in the bank collapsed under the weight of his foot and he fell backwards onto the slick, grass-covered slope, sliding down the incline until he was almost at the bottom. “Well, that cut that short! I’ll see if the other side is as steep.” He found green stains on his clothes wherever the grass had rubbed against it. “Oh well, bound to happen, I suppose. No big deal.” He stepped down onto the emerald green grass – and immediately sunk in, up to his waist.

  Gefforen screamed briefly, but then started to laugh as she saw how thick and fluid the soil down there was, and how thoroughly coated the burly miner had become with mud.

  That’s what I was thinking. Eshezy thought it pointless to speak and concentrated on covering her mouth, as she found the view rather amusing, too. “Err, now you’re down there, see if it gets worse going across. But take it slowly. I don’t want to have to try to pull you out if you get stuck.”

  Harthangan grimaced. “I didn’t know ground could do this.” He looked at the others, still dry on the lawn above him. “Athanashal, keep an eye on the prisoner.”

  There was a nod and the lad took up a position some five yards away from the prostrate Carranavak, noting how his attention had suddenly become intense. The look of weariness had vanished without a trace and the humour that the others had found in the situation had left him entirely untouched.

  Eshezy and Gefforen watched as the ex-miner moved cautiously out into the centre of the gully – a distance of about twenty yards – and then progressed, with great difficulty, to the far bank. Once there, he studied the variety of holes on the far bank with interest, his body now coated with mud almost to his armpits.

  “It will be easier going up.” He used as positive a tone as he could manage as he called back over his shoulder. “You can see the holes from down here, so you can use them as handholds and footholds on the way up.”

  Instead of falling when you break through one … Eshezy gave up on her attempt to show sympathy, realising that all of them would probably look much the same by the time they had made the journey across the swamp-like chasm. “I don’t think it matters much, Harthangan. We all have to cross and the green looks just as bright in both directions from here.”

  It was the expression of dismay on Gefforen’s face as the truth of this statement hit her that finally brought a laugh from Eshezy. “Oh, I’m sorry everyone! But I guess there are worse things than getting covered in mud.” She turned to Carranavak. “You go next, oh weary one!”

  Such was the transformation of the expression on her face that he immediately moved crabwise to the edge and slid down.

  Athanashal watched carefully as the devious prisoner lowered himself into the thick mud, churned up now by Harthangan’s passage. There were a lot of smiles on the still ‘landed’ observers as, despite his extreme caution, he sank in even further and bobbed back up, coated to his shoulders with the immensely mobile, increasingly liquefied ground.

  “Get up the bank now, ‘mister governor’.” Harthangan enjoyed the image of his former commander, struggling through the green-streaked sludge towards him. He turned and called back to Eshezy. “You’ll have to release him, or he won’t be able to climb.” By the time he had fixed his attention on the former soldier again there were no bonds on him and Harthangan watched as Carranavak inched his way up the bank, smashing many of the little burrow entrances on his torturous accent. Once he was at the top and starting to look around, clearly contemplating escape, Harthangan called up to him in a voice that would not be heard on the other side of the gorge: “Don’t even think it. I expect Eshezy could shackle your legs to your ears, with your arms weaved in between, just as easily as merely restraining your hands…” He could see by the expression on his foe’s frustrated face that the point had gone home. Like a well-placed sword!

  “Athanashal, you go across next – see if you can keep your bow and arrows above your head – we’ll find a way to wash this stuff off… I hope!” Eshezy took the bundles from him and stacked them next to Harthangan’s. Hmm…. She hefted the bags. Feels like you loaded up with apples back there! “If you take the middle of this rope, I’ll get the bundles tied to the two ends and we’ll winch them across, on top of the mess, once you’re over.”

  Athanashal dutifully held the rope looped around one hand and got his quiver in the other, with the bow positioned horizontally beside it. He turned his icy-blue eyes on her, but his focus was far-distant. “I suppose this would be a bit of a barrier to any soldiers that came this way.” As he got to the bottom of the bank, he stopped. “Eshezy, I have an idea.”

  A few minutes had passed but no one else had completed the crossing of the swamp channel except Athanashal, since he had offered his proposal to improve the transfer of the travellers and their s
upplies. Once Eshezy had agreed, he had made the journey with his bow, quiver and the loop of rope held high over his head, managing to keep the weapons clear of the thick, gluey mud, though the rope had dragged on the surface behind him, becoming caked and heavier with each movement as he progressed slowly across the gully. Meanwhile, Eshezy had tied the ends of the rope together to make a continuous loop as he had suggested, allowing for the means to create a never-ending ferry – as long as one person remained behind to anchor the departure site.

  Soon Gefforen was about a third of the way over, but she was not covered with mud like her three predecessors, though her legs were fairly coated from the soles of her booted feet almost to her legging-covered knees. She was sitting or crouching on a make-shift raft of bundled grasses, her arms above her head, grasping near the tied ends of the rope which Athanashal had carted across, as Eshezy ‘paid it out’ from behind. High on the far bank, what seemed like a mud-crafted, full-sized replica of Harthangan was pulling the rope, inching the teenager across.

  Soon Gefforen was safely – and fairly cleanly – across the mud-filled chasm and she and Athanashal were winching Eshezy over, as Harthangan ‘swam’ back to collect the supplies. He had decided that it would be easier to transport them this way; he hoped that he might be able to keep them above the mud, instead of dragging them across the surface with the rope and he felt that he could not get any more coated with mud than he already had, so one more trip was, in his words: ‘no big deal’. Eshezy was balanced precariously on another raft (made by Athanashal, whilst she and Gefforen had constructed the first one) thinking how the far-seeing eyes of her extra companion had already shown the value of the perceptiveness of the mind behind them.

  Eshezy looked at the two youths working hard to pull her across and noticing how the bank she was approaching was quite different in appearance since all but one of her troop – herself – had climbed it. Those burrows… I wonder what lives in there – some kind of water-rabbit? Harthangan grinned at her as he passed her ‘mid-mud’ stream, and she shook her head at his appearance. He’s a mud man now, even his face is smeared! She refocused on her destination and noticed some movement on the upcoming bank. One of those little creatures is watching me! She was amused as the water vole climbed out onto the steep slope and ran up to the top, where he sat up on his haunches and washed his face, just a few yards from the ferry team. Suddenly there were more, first just a scattering, then seemingly hundreds of the creatures were running upwards, deserting their holes. Like rats from… a sinking ship! As soon as the phraseology crystallised in her mind, she acknowledged the implication. Get out! She gauged the distance to the far bank, then glanced back at Harthangan, just about to reach the shore behind her. “Get out!” She shouted at him. She looked at the two working with the now mud-encased rope a few yards ahead of her. “Pull!”

 

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