Chapter 4
Without even stopping to see if the door had latched, I gathered up my skirt, ran across the veranda, and down the three steps to the ground. In my urgency, I tripped over the tree roots that crisscrossed the lawn. I sprawled out on the grass and fallen leaves, but was on my feet again in an instant and running as fast as they would take me across the field. I passed David's abandoned cart and turned away from the path to avoid the houses that would contain people watching from their windows.
My eyes scanned the hills to see if the shadow was still there, and found him running down the side of the tallest hill, only to disappear out of sight behind the one that still lay between us. That was good; at least he was still coming. And I would meet him on the other side of the corn field. I just had to get there, then I would be hidden, lost amongst the rows of grain. I was now out of sight of the trading post, and none of the men seemed to be nearby. I was going to make it! The air was cold, but I was exhilarated as my hair whipped out behind me, flying back and forth with each stride, shaking off the last remnants of pain in my head.
My gaze drifted toward the hilltop again, waiting to see him ascend the final peak, but instead I saw something that I was not expecting. There were more men running down the hill, following the same path that my shadow had taken. I stopped, sudden fear overtaking me. Maybe it was a raid; maybe there wasn't anything unusual about this man and the feelings that had overtaken me were just due to my headache; maybe I was actually in real danger right now.
I looked around to see if any of the village men were heading in my direction, but saw no one. I heard shouts coming from the direction of the church, so I assumed they were still over there. No one to protect me, or no one to admonish me depending on how I looked at it. I was almost at the corn field; it would be faster to get there now than it would be to turn around and run back to the trading post. There I could hide until this was all over. I really didn't want to go back to the trading post anyway, to face the glares, the anger and, yes, even the looks of pity I would receive. 'Oh, Emerin did it again.' I could just hear it. I felt like I would rather face whatever was coming to me out here, even death, than go back there.
I snapped out of my stupor and willed my legs to take those last few steps across the grass and into hiding. The stalks of the plants crunched as I pushed my way in, leaves crumpling and cracking like paper, folding about me and drawing me into their safety. I walked in a few rows until I felt that I was well concealed, then looked back up toward the mountain. There was nothing there; the other men had disappeared behind the hill that was closest to me, but not one of them had yet reached the top of that final hill. I waited and tried to catch my breath which was coming in raspy gasps.
After what seemed an eternity, there was finally movement on the hilltop, but again it was not what I thought I would see. The men had turned back and were climbing the hill, going back the way they had come. There were six of them that I could see, walking two by two; no wait, there were seven; the last two were dragging someone. It was the first man, that shadowy figure I'd been drawn to, they were pulling him back up the hill! My heart twisted and my stomach fell, as I felt the searing pain return to my head. They weren't coming for us; they were coming for him! And now they were taking him away from me. I couldn't breathe. I pushed through the stalks, putting row after row behind me, fueled by the irrational thought that I might be able to catch up with them. And not putting any thought into what might happen to me if I did.
I was almost all the way through when I heard the yelling. The men of our village had finally realized that there was something to chase. As I stood at the edge of the corn rows, I could see them coming along the side of the hill. Our men were nothing if not foolishly brave. They ran in a motley group, screaming threats and waving knives, hoes, and other homemade weapons and farming equipment that were unlikely to strike fear into any woodland warrior. Nonetheless, the woodland men were retreating.
My gut wrenched into a twisted knot as I watched them drag him away. He turned and pulled from their grasp once, and then again, before two of the other men came up behind him, so he was surrounded and could no longer escape. He was so far, yet I felt I could see the pain on his face as he struggled in vain to free himself. His pain was mirrored by my own and, as my head throbbed, I couldn't help but moan and fall to my knees. Choking sobs escaped from my throat as I gave into my physical pain and the anguish of my loss. I didn't know what was wrong with me, but I couldn't stop crying or gasping for air, even though my rational mind was screaming at me to be quiet.
The shouting faded off into the distance as the men climbed part way up the first hill. There was another sound, however, this one quieter, but much closer. I muffled my sobs in the long fabric of my dress and tensed my muscles to get ready to run. The sound of footfalls on dirt and dried out vegetation alerted me to the fact that I was no longer alone. I tried not to breathe, though my chest was still heaving with spasms. The footsteps seemed to be getting closer, and I reasoned that it would be a good time to move deeper, back into the field. I stood slowly, pressing through the pain which increased with every movement. As I took a tentative step to move myself into the next row, my heart started pounding in my ears. The stalks of corn began to waver and finally spun uncontrollably before my eyes, so I could not even tell which direction to go. I took a tentative step and my legs buckled.
A wave of nausea overtook me and again I fell to the ground. I lay there for a moment, my mind screaming at my body to move, but my body feeling so good resting with my face on the cool dirt. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that the dizziness would pass in a moment, and that no one would find me until then. I heard the footsteps get louder still, crashing through the crops, and wondered who would be finding me. Would it be some exotic woodland clansman who would carry me off to an unknown fate in the woods, or would it be one of the villagers, who would take me back home to face my parents and the rest of the town?
When I opened my eyes, I saw boots rushing toward me. I lifted my head, contemplating the insane idea that I might still escape. I heard someone calling my name, and shouting and then more boots came crashing through the rows. As one of the pairs of boots stopped next to me I dropped my head back to the ground in frustrated surrender. They were leather, covered in mud and what smelled like manure. It could only be a farmer.
"Emerin?" said a voice that sounded like my father. "What happened, darlin'? What're ya doin' out here?"
He sat me up. My head was no longer spinning, but I couldn't focus my eyes and his face wavered in and out of my vision. I felt him brushing my hair from my face, looking me over for any injuries. "Are you okay, darlin'? Did one of those savages hurt you?"
I shook my head and tried to say something, but I could only force out a long string of incomprehensible syllables. I pressed my hands to the sides my head and rocked back and forth, trying in futility to block out the pain.
My father sighed. "It's a headache isn't it? You wandered out here on your own when you should've gone to a sanctuary. Oh, Emerin."
"I'm sorry," I squeaked, as the tears began to flow. I could've lied, made up a tale like I sometimes did as a kid, but I knew he'd see through it. And he'd learn the truth anyway, from Miss Telly and the ladies in the sanctuary. Besides, I doubted my ability to put together a good story in the state that I was in.
"Alright," he said, his tone a mix of fear and exasperation. As some of the other men came up behind him, I could feel his concern for me turn to embarrassment and worry. "We'll deal with this later, when we get home. Right now, I have to go back out with the other men, and make sure there's no one else out there. In the meantime, Callum will take you to the trading post so you'll be safe. But, make no mistake darlin', we will deal with this later."
Callum! Was he here too? How would I explain this to him? How would I explain this to everyone? Especially when the whole truth came out that I'd sneaked out of the sanctuary. As my father lifted me to my feet and steadi
ed me for the first wobbly moment, I could see Callum out of the corner of my eye, watching me from behind the other men. Lenal was there too; sheesh, this was embarrassing. But beyond the embarrassment, the urge to go, to pull away from my father and stagger into the hills was still overwhelming, but I couldn't heed it. I looked in the direction where the invaders had been and saw no one. Everything was still as it had always been, making me wonder if I had imagined the whole event, maybe my body's way of dealing with unbearable pain.
"Callum!" my father shouted, clearly impatient for someone to take over dealing with me. "Now, son! There's Natki crawlin' all over these hills. You need to get her outta here!" Callum hesitated, then reluctantly pushed his way through the men and over to my side, his face curled into an expression of irritation and disbelief. I imagined he was pretty embarrassed too and afraid of what he was getting into. This was the first of potentially many strange and willful transgressions by his future wife. How would that reflect on him?
Callum took my arm, relieving my father to return to the men and his duties. I leaned toward him so I wouldn't fall, but could not muster the courage to look him in the face. I stared at my shoes.
"Take care of her now; don't make her walk too fast. She's not real steady yet." Then my father turned his back and he and the other men melted into the corn rows and disappeared, the crunching of the stalks the only proof in my mind that they'd ever been there.
"C'mon," Callum said quietly. I couldn't tell by his voice whether he was worried or angry. He led me slowly back through the corn, row by row, for what seemed an eternity. Not a word passed between us the whole way through the field, across the meadow and past David's cart. He kept a firm grip around my waist and I just concentrated on not falling over from the still lingering dizziness. As we approached the trading post, I could see that the door was open and someone was standing there peering out.
"Emerin! Whadya think you're doing?" The gravelly voice floated across the grass and assaulted my ears. Mrs. Enos. If I could have turned and run at that moment I would have. "Git inside, git inside child......what were ya thinking running off like that? Am I gonna have to sit in front of the door and guard it next time?" She beat on the door with her stick as if to emphasize the point.
Callum stopped and looked me in the eye for the first time since he'd seen me in the corn field. "Wait, what did she mean guard the door?" I watched his face as he processed the information. "So....you were already in the trading post? And you sneaked out? What....why?"
"Callum! Are ya bringin' that girl in or what?"
"Just a minute, Mrs. Enos...we'll be there in a minute. Uh, Emerin hurt her foot....she just needs to rest it for a minute."
"Well, hurry up," she grumbled and continued to mutter to herself as she waited. But behind her muttering was another sound.
"Emerin? Emerin!" I heard Jalya's voice call out in excitement. "What happened?" I could see her in the doorway trying to push past Mrs. Enos as gently as possible, so as not to topple the old woman.
Mrs. Enos turned and poked her with her stick and two women came from behind Jalya and pulled her away from the door.
"Go on now, git back in, Jalya! I'm not gonna lose two of ya! What wrong with you young' uns today?" She started to close the door, but poked her head out at the last second. "Just hurry up and git'er back safe, y'hear me boy?" Then she shut the door. I imagined her shoving her chair against it and sitting down on the other side. My escape probably made her look pretty bad.
"So what's this all about, Emerin?" Callum showed no signs of moving forward.
"Same thing that it always is, a headache. A really bad one this time."
"Come on now, headaches don't make people run away. They don't make people wander off into danger and do things that they're not supposed to be doing!"
"But they do, Callum....I...I don't know how to explain it; it's a desire; it's too strong sometimes and I just can't...." I trailed off, unable to speak through the pain. "I need to sit down." I began to shuffle toward the steps that led to the door of the trading post. After a moment Callum followed and sat beside me on the wooden planks.
"You can't what? Control it? Because you're gonna have to, you know!" he sounded angry. I almost couldn't blame him; it would have sounded absurd to me if I wasn't the one living it. And nobody else understood; how could I expect him to?
"I know, I'll try harder...it's just that this time it was a really bad one. I'm sorry." And I really was. I should have fought the urge harder, told Jalya what was happening so she would have stopped me from leaving. I was so tired of letting everyone down.
"You'd better. You know this is embarrassing to me, and to my whole family. I can't have my wife doing this. We're getting married on Sunday, Emerin. This needs to stop now."
I nodded, though I knew that I could not promise him that. Tears welled up in my eyes and all I could think about was getting away from him and lying down. "I'd better get inside. Mrs. Enos will be getting mad." I stood up carefully, but as quickly as my head would allow. I turned and lifted my leg to take the next step, but I never made it because Callum grabbed my arm and pulled me back down. Hard. My balance still wasn't the greatest, so I crashed back down, my bottom nearly missing the step, and slammed my head back into the railing.
"You listen to me," he snarled. "We weren't done talking yet."
I stared at Callum in disbelief. If I was hurt in any way from the fall, he certainly didn't seem to notice or to care. He put his face close to mine and gripped my arm so tightly that it actually distracted me from the pain in my head. "It's not like I wanted this marriage either, you know. In fact, my parents and I went to Reverend Grell and asked if he could unite you with someone else. I didn't want to deal with this; they didn't want to deal with this. But he said no; he said I was a strong man and I could handle you. That you needed someone strong to keep you in line. So this is me being strong. I'm not going to let you act like this, Emerin." He dug his fingers harder into my arm. I looked down at it and wondered if he could dig them right down into my bones.
"Callum, let go. You're hurting me."
Instead of doing what I asked he grabbed my face with his other hand and turned it back toward him. "Look at me when I'm talking to you. If you think I'm hurting you now, just wait until the next time you do this. Maybe now you'll think twice about it. Am I right?"
I nodded, hoping he'd just let me go. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to be inside the trading post. I begin to shiver; I didn't know if it was from the cold, or fear, or simply from the pain I was in. Callum let go of my jaw and rubbed my cheek. "I'm sorry, Emerin. I don't want to have to be so tough with you, but you'll see one day that it's for your own good."
The door to the trading post opened abruptly. Mrs. Enos glowered down at us. "C'mon lovebirds, it's time to git this young lady inside. Don't worry boy, you'll have 'er all to yourself in a couple a days."
I tried not to shudder when she said that and stood up. Callum had no choice but to relinquish his hold on my arm. It throbbed with the same ferocity as my head. I climbed the stairs carefully, holding tight to the railing to steady myself.
"Bye, Emerin," Callum stood up smiling, like nothing had happened, like he was the same nice boy that I'd walked to David's cart with earlier that morning. That seemed like a lifetime ago, though it could not have been more than an hour. "I hope you feel better. Try to get lots of sleep before Sunday."
Sunday. My death sentence. Did he mention it to make me feel worse? I turned back and croaked a quiet "goodbye" as I went through the door.
Before Mrs. Enos could poke me all the way in, Jalya was there, hugging me as tightly as anyone possibly could. "What were you doing? I was so worried." She pulled away and studied my face. "You need to lie down." she said in her best doctor voice. "Come on, Miss Telly has a bench in the back. It's got cushions on it, so it'll be comfortable."
She led me behind the counter and through the door marked 'private'. I was thankful, since it me
ant not having to face anyone else right away, though I could feel their eyes on me as I walked across the floor. Miss Telly followed us in and handed me a cup of something that smelled so foul, that it could only have been facion bark tea.
"Here you go, sweetheart," she said. "It would've tasted better if you had drank it when it was hot, but it should still do the trick."
"Thanks," I said and tried not to grimace at the smell. Miss Telly smiled at me and left.
"Drink it fast,” Jalya said, "then you won't taste it as much. Then I'll give you some water to chase it with."
I'd drank so much facion bark tea in my life that the horrible taste didn't faze me anymore, but I was still grateful for the glass of water. When I was a kid, my mother used to have to put in so much honey just so I could swallow the nasty decoction. It was a terrible thing to have to stomach, when it didn't even usually work.
"You should rest," Jalya urged. "Come on, lie down."
I did as I was told, knowing that the tea would be making me sleepy very soon. Jalya covered me with a blanket, and I noticed I was still shivering. She sat in the rickety chair across the small room and looked at me with a half smirk on her face. "Y'know, I was only kidding when I told you to go outside so he could steal you away."
I chuckled lightly, already feeling the grogginess building in my head. Miss Telly had made a pretty strong brew.
"What were you doing, anyway? Was it from the headache...did you feel like you needed to go?"
I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes once more. "Can we talk about it later?"
"Sure." She seemed lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "Maybe someday it would be a good idea to go over that mountain. It seems like there's something you need there. I mean something other than good looking wild men. Though that would be reason enough..."
I was starting to drift off and Jalya's words were becoming a muddled blur, when a soft knocking brought me back to consciousness. I opened my eyes in time to see her moving toward the window. There was someone peering through. In my semi-conscious state it appeared to me that it was Ashel, but I figured that I must have been already dreaming. Facion bark could bring on some crazy dreams. It couldn't be him. Ashel didn't like to risk coming into town, and it seemed especially unlikely that he would attempt it now when the men were already out hunting for trespassers. But who else would be skulking around outside, tapping at windows instead of using the front door?
In the haze of half sleep, I heard her slide open the window, followed by some quiet murmuring. I could no longer keep my eyes open and allowed myself to slip into the comforting fog of the painkiller. Though I clearly heard one phrase being repeated over and over as I slipped into unconsciousness.
"Jalya, Mama's dead....She's dead, Jalya.....Mama's dead."
Guardians of the Light (Book One of The Nebril Riverland Chronicles) Page 4
