9 Tales From Elsewhere 3

by 9 Tales From Elsewhere

  Doubts

  On a pile of last summer’s hay, Jamila lay in Feden’s arms. With the tips of her fingers she lightly tapped his wrist, over and over again. He could tell she had something on her mind. "What’s bothering you, sweet bean?"

  "I’ve been thinking about Tahnin. I hate to say it, and I hate to feel it more, but I don’t think we can trust her anymore."

  Feden replied, "I’ve considered that myself."

  "Last night, before we left Det’s place, she told me she wanted to speak with you alone, in the Grove."

  "Let me worry about Tahnin." Feeling her tighten up, he gave her a squeeze and stroked her sandalwood-scented hair. "We both know her feet are still rooted deep in the Grove. She’s just not handling Yunis’s sickness very well."

  Jamila agreed. "She blames us. Blames the old ways. If he got better tomorrow, she’d be with us to the end." She nuzzled and kissed his neck. "Did you noticed Det’s been acting strange too? Not exactly like Yunis, but a little bit like that."

  "I have, but I don’t want to believe it. If he’s going down that well, then I might be next."

  Jamila sighed. "Don’t say that."

  "Sorry." Feden tried to doze off again, but was stifled by thoughts of his eventual confrontation with Tahnin. From Jamila’s rigid posture, he could tell she couldn’t rest either.

  "I really should get it over with. I can’t take it much longer."

  "Maybe there’s nothing to worry about at all. Maybe we’re just imagining things."

  "I hope so." He gave her a kiss then got up to go.

  Feden walked straight to Tahnin’s farm, his heart beating like a wallowwink bird. Despite her impossible load of tasks at hand, she agreed to take a break. With only the sounds of snapping twigs and the cawing ravens, she led Feden away from the nosy village, choosing a part of the Grove that called up no memories.

  Jamila’s warnings swam about his head. If she was right about Tahnin, then this whole meeting could be an elaborate trap. His entire body was alert: eyes scanned for movement, ears for unnatural sounds, and nose for the smell of korso. But the Grove’s calm silence reassured him. Then he noticed that Tahnin was slack with exhaustion. She looked as if she would cry, but was fresh out of tears. He realized then how wrong he was to doubt her.

  Looking off into the distance, she said, "Why do you have to keep pressing, Feden?" Her voice wavered. "Look at what happened to my Yunis. Look at your shop. Can’t you see it’s not worth it?"

  "Are you saying I caused his sickness?" Feden replied curtly. "If you are, I won’t hear another word of it."

  "No, Feden, I’m not blaming you. But I am asking you to please stop before Esvon burns the village to the ground." She turned away. "Before Jamila has to feel like I do." Feden felt like he was skewered through the belly. He leaned on a birch tree for support, which seemed to lean back to provide comfort. He took a moment to measure his words.

  "I knew the risks, and so did Det. And I hate to say it, but so did Yunis." She whimpered. "I’m afraid we can’t stop now, even if I never used the old tongue again. I didn’t bring ravens back. Not in our dreams could me and Det summon a stag like the one we caught the other day. The Grove is doing it, Tahnin. You know that."

  "I know." Tears streamed now. "But I want it to stop. I just want it all to go back to how it was before." Feden felt a faint hint of anger brewing within. He crossed is arms over his chest. "You really want that life back? You want to be slowly bled to death by false holymen and their militia?" His anger was growing. "I’m not sure you understood Yunis’s story about the ruins. Do you know why they won’t let us go there? Do you?!"

  "No!" She yelled back.

  "Because it’s not our past, Tahnin, it’s our future. That’s why they don’t let us in. But we found their bones, broken and burnt. The same will happen to us. It’s already starting!

  She stood tall now, arms taut at her sides. "So you’ll risk anything to bring back some glorious past. But you don’t know what it was like, back then. You don’t know anything. You probably think the fields tilled themselves, and the oats rolled themselves, and nobody ever died, and nobody ever went crazy!" Tahnin collapsed to her knees, sobbing hard into her wrists. Feden’s anger had fled him like a coward, leaving him only shame, streaked with self-doubt.

  "Look, Tahnin. I’m sorry. I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, but things will get better. For all of us."

  She arose, eyes blazing red, tears flowing off her chin. She said softly, to herself. "You’ll be alright, Feden. You."

  PART 5

  Revelations

  Feden sat perched in a maple tree, eyes glued to Coerb Road. From his vantage point he was invisible from any approaching soldiers, and his secret path to the village was much faster than the road, which slithered like an asp. As he wasn’t due to be replaced for a good while, Feden was surprised to hear footfalls at his back. But he wasn’t worried, as the Grove gave a reassuring hum.

  It was Det. His eyes were wild and his arms shook. "Feden. How could you do something like this now, of all times?"

  Feden jumped down. "Do what?" he asked with a sneer.

  "They found another dead soldier, Feden. At least get rid of the body!"

  "What are you yelling at me for?" Feden hollered.

  "Keep your voice down, damn it!"

  "Listen to me, Det, I didn’t do anything."

  "Oh yeah? Then who did, huh?" He let out a sigh and a pitiful laugh. "They’re really going to send them in now, Feden. Arrrgh!"

  "What is it going to take to prove to you it wasn’t me? Let’s go right now, and I’ll swear in front of…"

  "Stop it. Shut your mouth right now, Feden. Don’t you ever say those words out loud." He held his face with both hands and grumbled. "You’d better figure out what happened quick. You know you are expendable, like everyone else, right? You know that?" Det paced on the soft carpet of leaves.

  Feden stared at the pocked dirt road, mouth slightly agape. "I’m not sure how, but the Grove is taking these korso, not me."

  "The Grove? You’re joking right? The Grove sure didn’t take the first soldier."

  "What do you mean?" Feden thought back to the conversation in the shed. Det never denied being involved. The realization was like a slap. "So it was you all along?"

  "Me?" Det smirked. "No, no, not me. Yunis. I took him over there, to the ruins. Thought it would help him, you know. Shake him out of it. But he saw a korso soldier there, and he went berserk. You should have seen him. Half nymph, half demon. With his bare hands too."

  Feden pulled his own hair. His tongue was dry on his teeth and he couldn’t swallow. He repeated to himself over and over again the words he had spoken to Tahnin just yesterday, and it damaged him inside. "I can’t believe this. What are we becoming, Det?"

  "What we always wanted to be. Part of the Grove."

  Feden calmed a bit. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he held.

  Det added, "Like I said before. Who’d believe we’ve been killing well armed, well trained soldiers? I’m a tool-maker, you’re a leatherman."

  "You’re right." Feden nodded. "But he has to blame someone."

  "Leatos won’t let us be the village scapegoats, I’m sure of it. I’ve seen the way he looks into the air, the searching without watching or listening." Det said. "The Grove speaks to him too."

  "It has all along, I think."

  The Grove whispered, louder and louder, urging them to action until it roared in their ears. Cresting the hill, a stone’s throw away, marched a company of the Temple garrison with weapons at the ready. Feden raced toward the village and Det kept pace, despite his crooked leg. As they approached the crumbling mud bricks of the outlying homes, Det belted out the call of the wallowwink bird. By the time they entered town the villagers were already scurrying about in preparation.

  Feden searched the mayhem for Jamila or Yunis, but found neither. He walked to his shell of a home and calmly kissed his aunt’s cheek. "Go to Tahnin’s f
arm." As she wordlessly obeyed, shouts echoed from all around. The Grove nudged him again at the coming of the korso, but soothed his fear. Det’s words echoed in his mind. Part of the Grove. This was what he had wanted all along.

  Confrontation

  The ravens took to wing at the arrival of the garrison. From his ruined doorway Feden watched them approach, as if they moved at half-speed. Three soldiers separated from the company and jogged toward him. Their faces were bent into snarls and they brandished their iron cudgels and barbed clubs. Feden held his ground. One soldier bashed his right thigh with an iron cudgel. Then the three of them shoved him inside.

  Before he had a chance to rise they barraged him with fists and boots. Feden resisted like a captive hog, and landed a few blows of his own, but his thigh was bruised deep. The trained soldiers were too much. Blood dribbled from his mouth and nose, and with it leaked the courage he had drawn from the Grove. He wanted to curl up, his head in his hands, but the korso soldiers held him upright, one on each arm.

  The third soldier, who seemed to be in charge, watched with a grin that showed too few teeth. Like all of the garrison, his features were foreign and ugly. Between blows to his stomach the soldier questioned him in an ugly foreign accent about hidden weapons and other rumors. Feden didn’t reply, and wasn’t really listening. After a second punch to the ear he couldn’t hear him anyway.

  Then, through the gap that was his rear door, he saw that the Grove had not abandoned him after all. In his yard was Jamila, leading Yunis like a mule. His clothes were in tatters, but he stood tall, his eyes blazing with yellow fire. On his shoulder perched a raven.

  The Grove sent a charge through Feden. His hearing returned and his vision straightened. Strength seeped back into his weary limbs. Under a restored calm, Feden patiently reassessed his situation. The tempo of the world slowed. He felt every finger dug into his arm, and could feel their apprehension.

  The call of the raven caught the attention of the soldiers. "Get them away from here," the ugly one commanded. The soldier on Feden’s left released his arm to draw his cudgel. He raised it up to his ear to strike, but Yunis charged in and struck first with a great kick. The soldier tumbled backward into his stunned compatriots. With his arm now free, Feden grabbed a broken awl and jammed it into his captor’s forearm. As the soldier screamed, Feden wrenched his right arm free. On his workbench he found the brass head of a hand ax, and jammed it into the side of the soldier's head. Down he crumbled to the littered dirt floor, beside his limp korso friends. Yunis climbed off the ugly garrison commander, blood on his clenched fists. He glared at their unmoving bodies, deep rumbles escaping his lips with each massive breath.

  But the Grove nudged Feden, a reminder that they couldn’t rest yet. He spun Yunis around by the shoulders. With the korso down he seemed shrunken, his eyes back to their normal amber hue. "Hide," he told his friend. The wild youth bounded out and disappeared into the Grove.

  He found Jamila in the rear yard wobbling in a state of shock. Feden took her by the hand and pulled her along the trail that leads around the village, toward Det’s farm and the East Playground. But he stopped at a mighty elm they had named Graytower. Under the lowest hanging bough, he tugged on what looked like a square patch of crab grass. On unseen hinges the grass swung upward, revealing a dark, yawing pit. With a thin wooden ladder they descended into the murk. Feden closed the soil door, completely sealing out the light of day.

  The chamber was a hollow cut from earth and clay not much bigger than a grave. It was cold, and damp, and they shared it with hard, bulky bundles wrapped in cloth that clanked and clattered as the two felt around ineffectually for a more comfortable repose. They settled against the ladder, in a standing embrace.

  "What is this place?" she asked.

  "Shh. Save your breath"

  "I’m cold." She complained.

  "Hush."

  They held each other tight.

  Jamila asked, "Can we come out now?"

  Feden answered, "No sweet bean, not yet."

  They stood in shivering silence, occasionally stomping to loosen their frozen knees. Eventually their breaths slowed and caught a steady rhythm. Feden rubbed Jamila's flanks. He knew that Captain Evson would search every home of the village and every bough of the Grove for what they did. He also knew they'd reach a point where the danger here below matched the danger above. He asked the Grove to bring him warmth to share with Jamila, but found none.

  Emergence

  Feden awoke in the darkness not knowing he had fallen asleep. Instantly the cold struck him like a slap. Every muscle in his body shook. His right leg was well past the point of numbness and seared with pain.

  "Get up. My leg!"

  "Uhmn…." Jamila moaned, squeezing Feden’s arm tight. "Cold." She too shook like a birch leaf and her teeth clattered.

  "Its okay, let go. My leg is going to fall off."

  Jamila tugged his arm. "Let me out. I can’t take any more."

  Feden agreed. He rubbed his legs, unsure if he’d have enough strength to climb up. With Jamila's support he slowly ascended two rungs and partially lifted the trap door. The light stung his eyes. Though he welcomed the warm, fresh air, the fear came back hard. He glanced about quickly and let the trap door fall closed. The trail was empty.

  "Stay here. I'll come back for you." He reopened the door a crack, and seeing nobody on the trail, he finished the climb despite his tingling limbs. He flopped out onto the grass. He still saw no sight of the korso, but the sound of a voice sent his heart racing as he crawled behind the trunk of the great elm.

  After a moment the burning in his lungs subsided, but his stomach was still pulled downward with fear. Like a squirrel, he edged his head around the tree for a second look. It wasn't a soldier, but a villager. A young boy from two doors down, Gerit.

  Feden carefully chose the call of the dadak bird, hoping the boy would recognize its meaning: villager in danger, outsiders present. The call of the mon came back, meaning all is clear.

  He rolled from behind the tree. Relief turned back into panic as the boy yelled his name. "Hush!" Feden half whispered, half admonished. In his mind a thousand korso were bearing down from all directions, weapons held high.

  Gerit crouched low beside him, smiling wide. "You’re alive!"

  "What of the garrison?"

  "They’re all gone!"

  "Gone?"

  Gerit shrugged, which made Feden laugh out loud. "Come, give me a hand." Together they pulled up Jamila.

  "Go find Tahnin," he commanded the boy. "And have her bring blankets."

  Slowly they hobbled back to what remained of his home. Floorboards were pulled up, and the turf roof had been ripped open to the sky above. But he was too cold to mourn his loss. Using some semi-recognizable splinters of wood, he went about relighting the hearth.

  "So that’s what they were really looking for, huh Feden?" Jamila asked.

  "Yes. The true arsenal. We've been building it up for three summers now." The conversation stopped as the fire got going. Jamila started some pennywort tea. Soon Tahnin arrived with blankets and hugs, and shortly after her came Det. Feden asked him, "What happened while we hid?"

  "They ransacked half the village. My place isn't much better. And they got the barn." Feden frowned and shook his head.

  Det pointed to his black eye. "You were right to hide, and couldn't have picked a better place. They searched until well past noon."

  "But where did they go?"

  Det looked around for eavesdroppers, but found none. "Villagers from Wyeth captured a check point on Coerb Road! Esvon, that coward, didn’t dare split up the garrison, so they all left."

  Feden felt a flutter from the Grove. "So it's happening there too. Finally, we’re not alone."

  "Far from it," Det said. "You won’t believe who else has joined us."

  "I’ll believe anything right now."

  "Coerb."

  "Ha! You’re right, I don’t believe it. Coerb? I didn’t think
they had the courage."

  "Well they do, and there are lots of them. And they’re armed. Esvon should be out of here for a while. Long enough to get Raven Grove ready."

  "What happened to Bardet?" Feden asked.

  "Banner Fort is all closed up, with Bardet inside. But there are still a few soldiers on the walls. We got watchers on it all day and all night."

  "I won’t let them come back."

  "I’ll be right beside you." Det replied.

  They took a break as Jamila served the tea. Feden nearly burnt his mouth as he blurted, "What about Yunis?"

  Tahnin stifled a sob.

  "They took him?"

  "No, he was hiding in the Grove. He hasn’t come back."

  Feden said, "I know where he is." Groaning, he rose to his feet.

  Jamila protested. "Feden, not yet, you’re too weak…"

  "No, I’m going."

  Feden limped at first, but as he entered the Grove, the ache melted away. With the Grove singing in approval, he took a nearly invisible path to the where you can first hear the water, then left between the mossy dolmens, and over the creek by way of a fallen spruce. The path disappeared, but Feden followed the Grove's invisible clues to the shelf of rock with the old stone altar. There Yunis slept on his chestnut root throne, his clothes tattered and bloody. He awoke with a yawn. At the sight of Feden, he cracked a reassuring smile.

  "They’re gone, Yunis. Let’s go home."

  THE END.

  PRAIRIE GRASS by Joseph W. Patterson

  “Stage coach robbin’ ain’t worth the shoes on the horse.” Ben recalled telling Dan. Dan thought differently. He told Ben he didn’t give a rat’s ass what a horseshoe was worth, they were robbin’ that stagecoach, and if anyone thought different, he’d string them up himself. Ben looked around the room and no one had his back. They were all yella.

  Ben hated robbin’ stagecoaches because more things can go wrong than right. First off they always see you comin’. They get them horses a runnin’ and lathered up something fierce. It’s hard pressed catchin’ them let alone robbin’ them. Then there’s the unexpected. You never really know what you’re goin’ to get when you catch up with that coach. Ben found out when he got beside it. A lady with a gun bigger than his. She shot his horse smack dab in the head. He got thrown, landed on a rock, and busted his leg. No one stopped for him. They just kept a riddin’, chasin that coach. He hoped the lady with the big gun killed them all.