“This is how we will all cross: One end of the string will be attached to an arrow, which I will fire into a tree trunk on the other side. You will fight your way through the water across to the other side. I know you will be carried downstream a fair bit by the flow, but once you’re across, you’ll come back up from the point where you make it to the far side to the point right opposite here. The other end of the string – back here – will be attached to the rope, of course, and you’ll pull it across. Once you’ve got the rope to the far side, you will tie it around a nice strong tree trunk. Then Athanashal will come across, using the rope as an aid whilst I hang on to the other end here with Gefforen’s help.” She looked at the nervous girl, seeing that she comprehended and accepted this part of the plan. Thus far! I don’t know how she’ll take the next bit! “He’ll undo the knot, pass the rope around the trunk and fire the arrow back, making it stick into the ground somewhere near me.” Not too near, and yet not too far, I hope! “I’ll grab it before it gets torn out and carried away by the force of the water against the string and pull the rope back over here. The end result will be that the rope will reach across the river twice, circling around the tree trunk on the far side, allowing me to join it up on this side to make a continuous loop. Then I will help you, Gefforen attach yourself to the rope, and between you trying to fight your way across and Athanashal and I pulling on the rope, you will make it to the far side.”
Gefforen clamped her mouth shut, cutting off the scream that begged to be released. Athanashal and Eshezy looked at her, impressed with the control she showed.
“Once Gefforen is safe on the far side, she and Athanashal will pull the rope across and me with it.” Eshezy looked at Carranavak again. “You’ll no doubt notice that the only time you will be unshackled is while you are crossing the river. I figure I can trust you to do that, because I know you don’t want to die. As soon as you are on the far bank, I will shackle you again… if you try to run. Otherwise, I will let you walk back up the far side unencumbered. Your choice.”
“And if I do this the way you said, will you let me walk each day from now on without shackles?” Carranavak had the air of one who saw a chance for bargaining for better living conditions.
Eshezy looked at Athanashal, seeing his unease. She knew without looking what Gefforen’s opinion of this would be. She turned back to Carranavak. “Despite the misgivings that my friends and I have – yes, if you do this without trying to trick us, I will let you walk free each day.”
Carranavak seemed to consider this all very carefully. Finally, he took a deep breath and let it out again. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
***
Eshezy stood with her bow and arrow. She glanced down at the ground at her feet. The string had been carefully coiled so that it would not tangle as the arrow flew across the river. Never done this before… even back in that other world where I’m sure I learned archery! I’d better use maximum force; I’m sure the string will drag on the arrow. Accordingly, pulling back as far as she had ever done, but keeping the bow aligned so that the arrow would fly almost horizontally – the target tree trunk was only forty-five yards away – she took aim and released in one fluid motion. The normal sounds were modified by the rustle of the string – the sound of the impact was lost in the distance, but there was the arrow, stuck centrally in the trunk of choice, the string behind it visible until the point where it was submerged in the flow.
“Wooo!” Gefforen called out, forgetting momentarily that this meant the plan was proceeding and she would soon have to cross the terrifying torrent.
“Yes!” Athanashal voiced this single word with feeling, appreciating from his frustrating practice sessions over the days since they had left her Fortress, how much skill was involved. He stepped on the remaining coils of the string, as it was still unwinding, albeit at much slower pace, as the waters pulled it from the shore.
Rauffaely made his characteristic ‘nuah’, looking across the wild water from his comfortable position on the bank.
“Over to you, Carranavak.” Eshezy breathed a sigh as she realized she had not lost the arrow and that the string was still attached to it. Thank you, Janeesise!
The ex-governor sat down by the bank and put his feet into the flow. He stood up, already in water up to his knees, and began to walk forwards. Rauffaely lost interest in his progress and began to wash. With each step Carranavak sank lower, until, at a point some ten yards out, he was up to his shoulders, his arms above the flow and moving rapidly from side to side as he tried to maintain his balance against the force of the water. Another step, and he was up to his chin, and then he toppled over and was carried away.
Eshezy, Athanashal and Gefforen watched as he slipped under the waves, coming back up quickly, but sinking again and again as he was swept to their left, to the point where the river vanished into the forest. Rauffaely continued washing, his right front paw moving from nose to ear as he completed portions not directly accessible to his tongue.
“Keep an eye on the rope.” Eshezy spoke quickly. “Gefforen, look after it, so Athanashal can get an arrow ready. I’ll be back.” She ran off after the intermittently visible body; soon she was just a small figure, slipping through the trees and other plants along the bank.
Gefforen watched her shrink, her concern growing as her mentor faded into the gloom and diminished in size, soon appearing to be no more than a dot, visible like a flicker against the foliage of the forest and finally being lost entirely from view.
Eshezy ran as fast as she could, but found she was getting further behind the body of her long-time prisoner, rushing downstream. It was increasingly difficult to keep him in sight and avoid tripping in the uneven undergrowth or more especially, running into a tree. He’s still popping up. Maybe he’ll get washed back ashore. She ran on, hoping for something. Anything. Can’t believe I’m rooting for him!
As she continued moving, she started to notice that, instead of being pushed back to the bank, Carranavak’s body seemed to be getting closer to the other side. Must be some strange currents down there. Just as she made this observation, a toe caught on an exposed root and she fell flat on her face, managing to avoid landing on her bow, her breath knocked out of her. As she gasped from the impact and moved her arms to push up, she found her head spinning and a powerful impression came to her, to stay down. What? An enemy nearby? She looked around from her semi-hidden spot, seeing only more bushes, half-dead saplings and myriads of trees. Further furtive viewing brought nothing to view of interest. Finally, she decided to get up and start the long trek back to her companions. What do we do now? If he couldn’t make it across, how could any of us?
Looking around to double-check for hazards, something made her look far to the left, to a point where the river could just be seen a further fifty yards downstream, between a fine pine and a strangely leaning one. A movement caught her eye. It’s him! She moved slowly now, working her way downstream, walking silently between the trees, choosing each step to avoid a sound, though the rustling of the wind in the treetops provided some ‘green noise’ to cover any errors. After a period of this stealth she was able to crouch near the bank and look across to the other side. There, sitting in his soggy basic Neechaallite soldier clothing, was Carranavak, his back against a sapling, his breathing slowing from his exertions. What a brilliant deception! I must remember this. Nothing can make me trust him now. Not ever.
“I’ll remember the time and effort this took.” Eshezy called in the coldest, hardest tone she had ever used.
His head snapped round, and the eyes he turned on her seemed to be blacker than coal. A half-strangled groan or grunt issued forth, but no intelligible words.
The trip back up the banks was slow, as Carranavak took a great deal of persuading to get moving. However, once she had gestured to shackle him to the tree and promised to send the cougar to visit, he seemed to gradually boil dry of vitriol and sink into a foul, black mood characterised by silence.
Whoops and shr
ieks met her return. Athanashal lowered his bow; Gefforen grinned almost enough to split her face. Rauffaely greeted Eshezy with a brief rub around her legs, seemingly ecstatic at her return, though she had been gone only a brief time.
Carranavak claimed, once Eshezy released him briefly from his bonds, not to be able to remove the arrow from the tree, but did find the strength to pull the string across, and the rope following. Eshezy zoomed in on his hand movements as he tied the rope ‘securely’ to the tree… and had him do it again.
His frustration level at being inexplicably caught doing a faux knot brought his temper to the boil again and Eshezy was about to re-shackle him to prevent him from injuring himself, but his madness tapered down slightly just as she raised her hand. If she could have remembered the phrase ‘strait-jacket’, she would have used it with satisfaction. As soon as he did a half-decent knot she raised that hand again and made a gesture like a dismissal. Carranavak fell down, entangled in elaborate shackles so much that he could barely move a finger. There! That takes him out of the equation!
Athanashal positioned himself to the right of the rope and stepped gingerly into the water, holding on with one hand as he tried to keep the bow above the surface of the fast-flowing river. Eshezy and Gefforen took up the slack and made the rope rise up so that it almost came free of the river’s surface, which made the security it offered much more real. When Athanashal reached the ten-yard point and the water was only level with the bottom of his ribcage, his eyes found Carranavak’s and bored home like lasers. The devious soldier stared back unflinchingly for a moment, then his gaze dropped somewhere into the river’s rippling surface. Athanashal continued to the centre of the river, the water level rising almost to his armpits as he did so. He had no problem keeping his balance and was soon rising out of the water on his way to the far side.
As soon as Athanashal reached the far bank, Eshezy’s temper, which before had rarely bothered her, threatened to overwhelm her entirely. One of her hands broke free from the rope and seemed to grasp the very air before her. Carranavak felt the leather bonds tightening around his wrists and ankles and a new loop formed around his neck.
Athanashal grabbed part of the shackles and surprised both his companions and himself by dragging the far bigger man away from the target tree and thumping him against another trunk a few feet away. His foot swung back, but his motion was interrupted by a scream from a lapsed performer in their group. Looking back over the river, he saw a glint somewhere behind the two girls – a glint as of light reflected off a metal blade – and his wonderful eyes resolved the image, with devastating effect. Soldiers! “Run!”
Eshezy’s hand dropped, and Carranavak, struggling against his restraints, managed to sit a little more uprightly, enough so that he could see the squad of soldiers running towards the twosome.
“Get them!” He bellowed, and this time Athanashal did kick him in the stomach, knocking the wind out and silencing him, at least temporarily.
Eshezy grabbed Gefforen’s left hand, snatched her bow up with her right and half-dragged her little friend into the water. Rauffaely jumped onto Gefforen’s shoulder after she was already a yard or so from the bank and bounced further forward onto Eshezy’s.
Gefforen had seemed to be in a daze but Rauffaely’s paws’ comparatively light tap on her shoulders brought her to attention. She caught up with the exit plan a moment later and started to move willingly through the waist-high flow, the sensation in her back one of extreme tenseness as she anticipated a fatal blow from behind at any moment. Ahead, she could see Athanashal preparing to fire and her nerves tightened even more as she realised his aim was almost exactly directed at her. Ooooo! Get it right! The soldiers closed in rapidly; the foremost one, his sword held out like a lance, was about to leap off the bank when a welcome ‘swish’ close by and a ‘thunk’ from behind sounded in the ears of the imperilled ones.
They did not dare to slow to look behind them, but Athanashal pulled back again and let loose, excited by the impact of his first arrow. The second stuck silently into the bank, just above the water line and stood there boldly until the body of the first soldier fell back against it, snapping it with a crack like the breaking of an old, discarded, bleached thigh bone.
Three more soldiers slowed as they approached the water, but Athanashal’s third arrow struck the ground near the feet of the forward-most of the trio and he stepped left in surprise, causing the two behind him to crash into him and the whole bunch to fall down in a tangled mess.
Another five soldiers slowed in their approach as they puzzled over the mysterious collapse of their leader and the forward rank of their compatriots. As the foremost three disentangled themselves, the five stopped at the bank to their right and saw the staring eyes of their leader and the strange tufted stick in the left-hand side of his chest. Athanashal continued to fire, realising that these men would soon be over the river, if he did not stop them. His next arrow struck the ground near the five, alerting them of the source of the danger. They spread out along the bank, running upstream so that they could cross over higher up – out of range – intending to come back, using the forest for protection. The other three did the same, following rapidly behind the five, none of them wishing to be punctured as effectively and finally as their leader had been.
Rauffaely jumped onto the bank as soon as they drew near enough. A moment later, Eshezy and Gefforen reached the far shore and clambered out, adding more water to the already sodden ground. Eshezy pulled out an arrow and took up a position next to Athanashal. ‘Twang’ – ‘shwooosh’. ‘Twang’ – ‘shwooosh’, ‘Twang’ – ‘shwooosh’.
“Yeeech!” Athanashal had never seen her in action like this. His bow hand lowered and the arrow he had selected for his next shot dropped unnoticed to the ground as he watched her continue her rapid fire. He noted her cool tactics: she worked from the back of the running group so that the ones in front did not see what was happening. She had downed all but two when the fastest runner turned and looked behind. His reaction was swift and if his pace had seemed fast before, it was noticeably more so as he veered off to the right, away from the bank completely and out into the vast field of tall grass. The other survivor did the same and both began to weave about, to make themselves more difficult targets as they disappeared into the wheat.
“Darn.” Athanashal tried to keep a focus on the two, but the grasses quickly started to swallow them up. He looked at Eshezy and saw her adjust her pose again, this time leaning back as the distance rapidly increased. He watched in amazement as the arrow flew up, seemed to hang in the air for a moment, then dropped down, out of sight. Several tall stalks snapped down and the erratic disturbance in the normal gentle waving of the heads of wheat ceased instantly in that vicinity.
Eshezy could no longer see the last one – at least, not with her eyes. The directive came strongly, though afterwards she recalled that it fortuitously did not affect her balance. Pulling back as far as ever she had, she angled up the arrow head close to forty-five degrees and let rip.
‘Twang’ – ‘shwoooooosh’! Gefforen, Athanashal and Eshezy watched as the arrow crested and dropped into the vast expanse of wheat without a sound to hint of its impact, some one hundred and thirty yards away.
Athanashal and Gefforen looked at each other from each side of Eshezy, about to shriek out their admiration and wonder. They saw her lower her bow hand and stare out across the river, her face desolate. After a while, they realised that she was crying, though she made no sound as the tears tracked down her cheeks. Neither of them moved. Somehow the heat of their excitement about the triumph that moments before seemed so exalted now seemed to become tepid, tempered, twisted and tainted.
***
Eshezy stood like that for a long but timeless moment. She knew – oh, how inexplicably well she knew – that she had been successful. No one would report back to the town now quite near to them that there were enemies setting out for the heights. No one else would set out to stop them. The th
ought of so many deaths on her hands threatened to overwhelm her and make her collapse. So many times now, I have had to act with violence to save myself and others. This time I don’t think I even counted how many fell! She knew she had to remain strong, that she could not afford the luxury of a tearful delay. The quiver will tell the tale, anyway, when I am ready for it. She looked up at the cloud cover, searching for the sun-creature. The glow from him seemed to barely penetrate the thin cloud. Yes, I know. There is so little time left! The tear tracks dried up slowly in the cool breeze; once they had gone, she turned to face her prisoner. “I don’t know why you are still alive.” Her anger, pain and sorrow manifested in her countenance.
He stared back with blackest hate, but remained silent, aware that it would take very little to set his guards on him, changing them into executioners.
“Every day you live now is a bonus. No… every second.”
Seirchaal
The strange lizard-like creatures fascinated him, and he laughed as they bravely threw themselves into the defence of their mutilated tribal member. He laughed for a different reason as the camera tilted down and he could see the legs of his ‘leopard’, punctured by at least ten, foot-long sticks.
These head-mount cameras are so compelling! And I am indeed wise to glue them on – think how inconvenient it would be if one fell off! They have actually driven him away! Incredible! Seirchaal watched as the viewpoint became approximately horizontal again. He was surprised that the little creatures gave up their pursuit, allowing the leopard to retire to ‘lick his wounds’. They don’t have what it takes – never give your enemy a chance to regroup!
Chapter Fourteen
Terraless Page 21
