Terraless

by Thorby Rudbek

  ***

  Five days and five ‘nights’ had passed without incident, filled with long walks through seemingly endless fields of grass, interspersed with small patches of other plants. Each day the companions had been provided with very basic meals, enhanced somewhat because Eshezy had found and recognised potatoes, carrots, turnips, peas, parsnips and beans growing in small clusters or patches along their route and had introduced her camp cook to their value. Thus, the previous day’s travels had ended with a vegetable stew, which she had appreciated as a very welcome relief from the bland flour biscuits usually produced by Gefforen. Each day they had crossed at least one small stream, allowing them to refill their water bags when the water was confirmed to be clear and clean, giving them confidence that rationing was not needed, though crossing these brooks only required a single, simple step, sometimes not even a big one.

  Regarding their prisoner and the need for sleep, Eshezy had shackled Carranavak very heavily each ‘night’ so that they could all sleep, confident that he would not harm them. Each of them took turns to be on guard, making the sleep period a disjointed one. Despite this, Eshezy woke many times when she was not on sentry duty, instantly aware of a multitude of other creatures in the vicinity which tantalisingly never got quite close enough to be seen. Somehow Eshezy knew that the cougar was stalking – not them but – something on a parallel course to their left, though he often came quite close and made eye contact with her and went away again, without ever being noticed by the others. Of course, the term ‘cougar’ did not come to her until the fourth day, and when it finally did she was half-amused and half-frustrated by this piecemeal and almost infinitesimally slow process of restoration of the knowledge she had gained in her previous ‘life’.

  During the long walks, Rauffaely had spent about half his time on Eshezy’s shoulder and the rest chasing small animals into the seemingly never-ending grasses. After disappearing on these excursions, he would almost inevitably catch up with them within a short while, recommencing licking and washing industriously whilst being ‘chauffeured’ on her shoulder again. At times of meal breaks he laid out and relaxed, not interested in the vegetables or flour-based snacks, apparently in deep sleep, though he was always ready to move again when the food had been consumed by his human companions.

  Gefforen enjoyed his company, too, and often gave him ear rubs and chin scratches, which he enjoyed with the intensity typical of a very ordinary cat. She made sure to sleep close to Eshezy and always waited to see Carranavak’s heavier, sleeping shackles materialise before she relaxed. During the walks she kept up a fairly constant chatter with her heroine, asking about the small creatures which they caught brief glimpses of, the new plants which were dotted around the vast expanse and other, less-consequential things. She avoided the subject of their mission and rarely looked at the now-rapidly dimming sun creature, though she knew by the fading illumination of her normally bright world that something ominous was happening to it.

  During the sleep periods when Gefforen was ‘on duty’ Eshezy noticed, when she opened her eyes, that Athanashal was often awake and she was comforted by the feeling that he would probably be able to give some warning of danger, as she knew Gefforen’s sight and concentration were less developed than that of either of her older companions. The long hours of travel in a vast landscape empty of any signs of human habitation led to an inescapable sense of isolation that gradually crept up on her, especially after the much-anticipated moment on the ‘afternoon’ of the day of the river crossing when she had turned back and looked from the top of a long rise. She felt sure they had climbed high enough from the river valley to be able to see the tower at the Fortress, but despite using her ‘zoom’ vision, had been unable to discern it. We are truly in the hands of She…

  It was mid-afternoon on the fifth day when the varying density of grasslands allowed for an increasing view to the left of their course, bringing the forest at last into sight, though it was still a full fifty yards from their location. And… such a forest! Huge trees hung over the grasses and behind them there were indications of even greater-sized ones, the crowns of which could be glimpsed over the tree tops at the perimeter. Strange sounds – squeaks, squeals, and shrieks – could be heard from within the dense and dark woodland.

  “Ah!” Eshezy breathed a sigh, grateful for this sign of progress. “Now we can keep the trees in view on our left and know we are going in the direction we are supposed to.”

  Gefforen looked at the thickly treed forest, noticing how dense the undergrowth was, but finding spots where she could see as much as ten yards into the leafy depths. “It looks dark in there. I’m glad we don’t need to get any closer. Those sounds – there must be a lot of animals in there!”

  “I didn’t say we wouldn’t need to get closer.” Eshezy grinned at her nervous little friend. “Not right now, but in a day or two… or three!” She made fun of the uncertainty to keep her younger friend’s spirits up. “We will have to cross over a river and travel inside the forest on the far side.”

  Athanashal came up alongside the two, keeping his head turned slightly to make sure that Carranavak remained in sight. “I’ll start taking apart the rope each time when we stop – just in case it is a wild river, and we need to use our idea to help us cross.”

  “Good thinking.” Eshezy nodded her approval, impressed that he had overheard from his position several yards behind them. His ears are as good as his eyes! “Though I do not know what the river will be like. I think we must be doing alright, though – ‘She’ has not needed to say anything for a while!”

  Gefforen kept glancing to the left, studying the trees, imagining the kinds of creatures that could live in such thick foliage. She looked at Eshezy, too, hoping for some reassurance from her and receiving a little, from time to time, in the form of smiles and a demeanour-exuding confidence.

  ***

  It was almost time to stop for the last meal of the day and Eshezy had been scanning to the left and right of their path, looking for something to supplement the rapidly diminishing flour supply. And something with a little more flavour, too! The grasses ahead were becoming more closely spaced and she concentrated on finding a path which would maintain their parallel progress, in relation to the great forest at their left. No pines here, just these big, interlocked, ancient-looking …. Oaks?!

  Gefforen noticed the smile of satisfaction on her leader’s face and erroneously concluded that she had been given some new directions. I hope now we won’t have to go into the forest anymore!

  Eshezy stopped and held her hand up in front of Rauffaely’s face. He leaned forwards and licked it, twice.

  “What is that?” Athanashal had also spotted the strange feature in the grasses ahead, though he was still quite a few paces behind Eshezy. He walked past Carranavak and stopped beside Gefforen.

  The three looked at the tall grasses and the pale woodwork hidden behind it became more obvious by contrast, as the breeze moved the stems gently in front of this stationary structure.

  “It’s some kind of boxy …” Gefforen tried to come to some conclusion and was about to step forwards, when Eshezy put her free arm in front of the teenager.

  “The question is not, ‘what is it?’, but ‘who built it?’ And I think I can see some eyes, watching us from behind the wood strips.”

  Athanashal glanced at Eshezy’s face, and looked in the same direction. “There’s an eye there, alright, but it is not human... it is very small.”

  Gefforen caught sight of the emerald glint of the eye and screamed.

  Eshezy winced. I haven’t heard that for days! “Calm down. I don’t think we’re in danger. This is a chance to show our kindness. Even though it may look like…”

  She was interrupted by several squeaks. A small, fist-like golden-toned paw showed through the small spaces between the sections of the wooden contraption; it was holding a sharp-pointed stick, and it was aimed at Eshezy.

  Eshezy murmured something to warn the othe
rs to be still – not to respond. She took a small step backwards, turned slowly around and aimed an arrow at Carranavak, who had started to back away, silently. He stopped, the frustration at being discovered in yet another escape attempt very evident in his expression, but she continued to pull back and let the arrow fly. ‘Twang’ – ‘shwooosh’! It passed within a few inches of his head and ‘thunked’ into the trunk of a sapling a few feet behind him. Her glare brought his movement to an abrupt halt and Rauffaely jumped down and sat, staring at him as if to say: ‘move and I’ll tear all the flesh from your calves!’

  Eshezy turned slowly back and held the bow above her head.

  “I am here in the name of … Janeesise!” Eshezy had to be supported by Gefforen and Athanashal who jumped quickly to each side of their leader as the name of her Benefactor – and theirs – sprang unbidden into her head.

  The response was immediate. A small, gold-toned head popped through a gap which opened up in the wooden panelling, followed by the body. It jumped down the three feet to the ground, and laid forwards, flat on the soil, two short but sharp wooden sticks in those fist-like paws, still there, but now flat on the ground also on each side of the prostrate form.

  The creature was about eighteen inches long, covered in varying golden patches that shimmered under the still-fading sun-creature light, with a darker diamond patch on the back of the head. It had a tail of the same, shimmery appearance, which started as thick as each of the hind legs but tapered rapidly down to a point. In contrast, the hind legs remained thick all the way down to the impressively clawed hind paws, the muscles in the legs very visible under the smooth skin. There was no trace of hair or fur – none whatsoever.

  After remaining horizontal for many moments, it left the sticks on the ground and stood up, showing that it could balance on the well-muscled hind legs that ended in paws with three big claws. The face was almost human-like, having a short snout and close-set eyes, but the mouth was lipless, and the head was smooth, with no visible ears.

  Sounds in the grasses to the left of the three adventurers made them turn their heads and they saw a strange and solemn procession. Four other, similar creatures walked towards them, carrying a grass-wrapped bundle a little smaller than each of them. Each creature was endowed with shimmering skin, though the forward-most two were two shades of bronze and the two behind were a purplish-silver and a reddish-gold, respectively. They placed the bundle on the ground and stood back, bowing their heads and looking down at it solemnly.

  Eshezy knelt down and reached towards the bundle. Pausing to look at the nearest bronzy creature, she saw it tilt its head slightly and took this as permission to pull back some of the grassy wrapping. She gasped. There, now visible, was a silvery creature of slightly shorter stature, but there were deep gashes in the chest and the left ‘arm’ was missing, having been severed close to the body. There was no sign of movement and the eyes were closed; dried blood was stuck to the undersides of the grass covering and a faint trace of fresh life-fluids flowed slowly from the stump of the arm. Tears fell spontaneously from Eshezy’s cheeks onto her hands as she found the love of Janeesise for this beautiful – though mutilated – creature was flooding into her soul. She looked at Gefforen, allowing her to see her sorrow.

  “Oh, these are the most lovely creatures!” Gefforen responded to Eshezy’s grief with a sudden recognition of this fact. “How could this happen?” She looked around, checking that there was nothing threatening in sight and noticing that they were now surrounded on both sides by a multitude of the metallic-toned beasts. But these are not mere beasts, any more than Rauffaely is – really! She checked behind at that thought, and found he was still staring at Carranavak and he had puffed out his tail, waving it from left to right so that it would show. He seemed quite intent on his self-appointed task and was apparently indifferent to the creatures that had joined him in his duty, though they held pointed sticks firmly in their ‘hands’ and were standing close to him on both sides.

  “Does anyone have any well water left?” After eyeing the apparently dead creature very carefully, Athanashal dropped to his knees and lifted his water bags, finding that his first bag was empty, and the second bag was making the ‘sloshing’ sound that indicated only a few drops remained.

  Eshezy managed a smile as she hefted the original of her two bags and showed it was still nearly a quarter full. “I just felt I had to ration it and so I drank the stream water instead, though I knew that another stream or river would allow for a refill tomorrow!” She lifted the tiny head and found the body was cool. Wait! This is a … reptile! The correct term, along with the full meaning of it, came to her and again the pleasure of remembrance made her heart pound. They are sometimes cool. Perhaps Athanashal is right. I must try, in any case. She tipped the mouth of the bag so that a trickle flowed into the slightly open mouth.

  Athanashal and Gefforen – who had knelt, too – watched as Eshezy allowed some more of her precious water to drip, drop by drop, into the tiny mouth. She took the small cloth which Gefforen handed to her without being asked and soaked it with another splash of water, wrapping it around the raw stump. Another cloth was proffered. This cloth was laid against the torn chest and Eshezy dripped more water onto it until it was soaked. Perhaps we are too late… oh, how I wish to Janeesise that–

  “She has green eyes!”

  Chapter Twelve

  The Zilmards

  It was morning, though the daylight was still fading instead of increasing. Eshezy worried more and more about this; she was convinced this was a total contrast to the way of the world from which she had been summoned. Should this world be so different? Perhaps that is the way it is supposed to be here, too? But what kind of problem could stop the natural sequence of day and night? How could things go so wrong? She looked down at the furry body beside her, the glowing embers of the fire a few feet beyond him. Rauffaely had been fascinating the previous evening. She recalled how he had vacillated between a state of excitement as he watched the movements of the creatures she had proclaimed as Zilmards and a placidity which Eshezy had thought was almost an impossibility for such an active cat. Yet here he is, sleeping peacefully, with the injured female propped up against his soft, warm underbelly fur!

  The creatures had dropped all semblance of fear concerning Eshezy, Gefforen and Athanashal once the well water had worked its magic and the wounded and mutilated one had regained some degree of consciousness, but had sensed immediately that Carranavak was another matter entirely. They had taken over the surveillance of the ever-frustrated prisoner, leaving Rauffaely free to wander around their home. Its entrance was far too small for the humans to enter, but they rewarded his curiosity with a sort of guided tour. Some of the biggest of the Zilmards had squeaked at him, led the way, and he had eventually come back to Eshezy, licking his lips, after an interval long enough for Gefforen to start a cooking fire and prepare another rather scanty meal.

  And our new friends had brought us some of their food. Here Eshezy smiled wryly at the memory. But no one had been tempted to take up their offer – except Rauffaely and his was probably a second helping! She recalled the tiny dishes that had been brought forth, held by the almost dainty front paws of some of the younger – and smaller – Zilmards. As she had reached out, she had noticed that the curved dish was in fact the upturned, domed upper portion of a large beetle, and the soft gooey material inside was just that – its insides. The plain biscuits cooked up by Gefforen seemed a welcome and familiar relief after that.

  The Zilmards found the fire fascinating, but did not gather as close to it as Eshezy thought they might. Perhaps they are just cautious – if so, it shows how intelligent they are, for fire is a fearsome thing. She thought back to the buildings consumed by it, by her hand, in Neechaall. Rauffaely had, of course, crept closer to the fire as it began to die down after supper, until he had drifted off into a luxurious sleep, warmed on one side by the glow from the ashes. Gefforen had held the wounded Zilmard – she had begu
n calling her ‘Survivor’ – and had contemplated the experience she must have been through, somehow developing a feeling of kinship to her because of this. Eventually she had become too tired and Eshezy had taken the little beast from Gefforen and cradled Survivor against Rauffaely, knowing his warmth would be good for her. His eyes – such a similar shade to the half-dead Zilmard’s – had cracked open briefly, and the message she read in his contented expression was one of understanding. Then he had drifted off again.

  Athanashal had been given a guided tour of the exterior of the ‘town’ created by the Zilmards and had come back afterwards to describe it to Eshezy, extolling the virtues of these industrious and organised creatures, the extensiveness and the marvels of their almost impregnable structure. He had explained how the small branches and trimmed pieces of wood were held together with fibres from the leaves of the grasses, making it much stronger than it looked. He had told her that it might be possible to break into the interior, if given the leave to attempt this using a sharp implement, perhaps a sword like the one Eshezy still carried.

  But the inhabitants would be making holes in the attackers’ legs with their sharpened sticks, which would probably curtail the attempt pretty quickly! Eshezy smiled at the thought as she observed a couple of Zilmards walking quickly by. They nodded to her and squeaked very quietly – two short, high-pitched brief notes from each, slightly different tones and not quite in sync with each other. They have such a sense of dignity! I think they may try cooking some of their food, but only after we have gone. They would not want us to see them doing that and risk us finding out that the product was unappetising to them! I hope we were not too offensive, refusing theirs, but really – there are limits!

  She had spoken at length to their leaders, two bronzy-coloured Zilmards that she concluded were a ‘pair’, in every sense of the term, as they stood very close together, their tails sometimes entwined and their squeaks never overlapping. Though she tried to explain their mission, using hand gestures and exaggerated facial expressions, they only seemed to understand the one word – Janeesise – the word that had changed their defensive posturing to unconditional acceptance. No other sounds produced any reaction, except some increased squeaking after Gefforen’s panicky scream when a beetle climbed onto her toes. Still, they know we are their friends and that is good enough for me.