Leaf and Branch (New Druids Series Vol 1 & 2)

by Donald D. Allan

  The ropes that bound me frightened me. That is a strange thing to say, but I felt such hatred from them and I knew they were not of this earth. They moved over my body like a sentient thing. They undulated and squeezed me when the pain seemed to lessen, always working to heighten their strength and my pain. I felt they drained me and left me helpless. I reached out again and again with my powers and felt nothing. I was in a void.

  Unexpectedly I felt the ropes loosen ever so slightly and I felt a surge of hope. It was only a small movement but, when nothing further happened, I was dismayed and wondered at what it was. Then I felt the first tingling in my limbs and I sobbed in gratitude despite the gag and blindfold. The tingling became a feeling of my limbs on fire and I writhed against the bindings and strained to escape. The pain grew and grew and I soon lost myself in it. There was no escaping the pain. It went on and on and remained constant in strength. At first, I was able to fight it mentally and push the pain and insanity away. Then it took hold of me and I was lost. Tumbling and twisting in the fear and pain I screamed into my gag, unable to move a finger. I focused on drawing breath through my nose into what little room remained in my compressed lungs. It was torture. My pain was causing snot to flow like water and I blew air hard through my nose over and over again to keep it clear. For once I was glad to be hanging with my face to the ground. With any other position, I would have drowned. With no warning, I felt the ropes tighten again and with relief my limbs soon went numb and I lost consciousness for a time.

  I woke and the cycle repeated. This happened again and again and I lost all sense of time. My sanity was almost gone. I lived for those moments when the ropes tightened and my limbs went numb again. It was my only respite. That, and the loss of consciousness.

  I have no idea how long I remained in the cycle before they gave me water. They removed the hood and opened my gag and placed a pan under my mouth. They shoved it into my face and, when I realised what it was, I tried to suck in as much water as I could and ended up with some in my lungs. I spasmed with coughs and they returned the gag. The hood was drawn over my head and the opening tied close to my neck. Between coughing and trying to draw air in through my nose I was sure I was going to suffocate. Their timing was perfect. I was unable to speak but could only focus on the water, clearing my lungs through my nose and breathing. My despair was almost complete. I could determine no scenario that saw me escape the bindings. I lost all hope. I lost myself to the pain, thirst and hunger. The isolation was complete and I started to long for a quick end. My death would be welcomed if offered.

  Despite my anguish, I was thankful I could at least breathe through my nose. Without a clear nose, I would have suffocated by now. And I could smell despite the hood over my head. It started small at first. I could smell a fire nearby but distant. Then more smells became noticeable. What little piss I had passed was strong to my nose and so was the smell of my own shit. What surprised me was after a time I could smell the men that had captured me, each of their smells sharp and distinctive. My sense of smell became alive to me and my world opened up.

  I tried to smell everything I could around me. Hours and maybe days later passed without reckoning. I could start to form images of the world around me. I was still in the clearing. I was only a few feet from the ground. The two men were still alone and no one else had joined them. One was hurt and the other still strong. They were never together. There was a pattern to my world.

  I remembered my life amongst the wolves and came to fully understand the world they lived in. It was a world of smells and it was wonderful. Hope blossomed inside me and my sanity snapped back into focus. The rope binding me tightened in response and I forced myself to relax as much as I could.

  I imagined I could smell the rope. It was so very faint at first. It didn't smell like a normal rope should smell. It was rope but then something was alive within it. Something held captive by the rope. Metallic, like copper. The rope was vile, corrupted by something not natural and I shuddered in horror. I recoiled from it at first but, with little else to do, I found myself returning to it again and again. It blocked me. I found I could follow the rope up a ways until the thing bound to the rope stopped me with a feeling of cold hatred. It was like walking up to a cliff with no way up and over. It was frustrating. Its presence was always there. Vile, oily, and malevolent. I felt dirty just sensing it.

  And then I felt the fool. All along I had been smelling camp fires and the two men. I could sense everything through my sense of smell. The rope looked like it was the way to salvation and I had focused my effort and remaining energy on trying to get past it. It was a finger puzzle. The harder I fought the rope the stronger it resisted me. But that was all illusion. I had not placed myself in a finger puzzle. The rope was nothing.

  All at once I smelled the tree I hung from. The entire world opened up to me and I saw my predicament. My nose became my eyes and the image of the clearing opened up to me. I hung from an old oak tree. The rope was wrapped around a thick branch and I could see where the bark had split and sap bled from the wound the rope made. The rope then travelled down to the roots of the tree where it was tied off. It was the root system that was the true tree. Everything above the ground is nothing more than the support system for the roots. The leaves breathe in the air and transfers strength from branch to trunk to root. I could sense the roots and the tree and, for hours, I pushed my awareness to the tree and pleaded for help and, finally, I felt the tree stir in awareness. My joy at this small tendril of awareness knew no bounds. My hope leapt in my heart and I cried in relief despite the gag and blindfold. Then, to my horror, I felt the tree dismiss me and turn away to other matters. The silence was so profound and so deep it almost shattered me completely. The withdrawal of the tree was such a traitorous act to me. I screamed in defiance at it and promised to hew it down when I escaped. I fell within myself and focused on keeping my nose clear. I was again completely alone.

  Sometime later I was fed broth. My mouth and throat could barely swallow. I choked a couple of times and received no assistance from my captors. I choked and coughed. Drawing what little air I could into my lungs and trying to force the broth out of them with sharp coughs. I blacked out a couple of times only to wake still fighting the liquid in my lungs. I wished for death at one point and stopped fighting it. I woke from the blackness to find myself still suspended and still in agony. The liquid had cleared my lungs and a few coughs later I could once again breathe much clearer. My lungs had betrayed me and let me live. The burning in my limbs was now commonplace and I ignored the pain completely. It meant nothing to me.

  At some point, I entered a trance-like state where all I did was count my breaths to pass the time. I stopped counting when the number lost all meaning to me and I would start again. I hung and waited. And waited. I watched the small world around me through my sense of smell and time lost all meaning. I was weak and not much remained to me that I cared about. I thought of my mother then and her face appeared to my memory so fresh and so remarkably beautiful that I cried against my bonds for hours holding the image central to my inner sight.

  I miss you, mom. I'm sorry I didn't keep my promise. I let them find me. I didn't stay hidden. I miss you so much.

  I sobbed again but fell asleep with her face still clear in my mind.

  I woke from a nightmare of watching the world fold itself over until nothing was left but barren earth and stone. The foreign feeling of the weight of something on my back had woken me. I had just begun to figure out what was happening when the rope snapped and I fell screaming for what felt like eternity to land face first in dirt. Trussed up as I was I rolled helplessly for a bit before coming to a stop on my side against something soft. I smelled wolf and dog and blood. The smells were very strong. I felt the pressing snout of an animal — a wolf? — trying to grasp something on my back and then I felt its front teeth start to work on the ropes that bound me. The rope writhed and squeezed harder against me and I felt its fear. The fear I felt from the
rope fed my elation. I mentally urged the animal to hurry and, after an eternity, my arms were freed but I could not move them despite my best efforts. The teeth continued to work on the ropes and I felt something snap within the rope and its despair. I soon felt my knees slacken and, as the pressure of my knees against my chest was released, I drew my first deep breath in my lungs and marvelled at just how much air I could suck in. For a time I revelled in the simple joy of breathing. My sense opened up and I felt nature rejoice and lend me its strength. My head felt light and then the circulation hit my arms and legs and a blinding pain knocked me unconscious in an instant.

  When I woke later I found I could move my arms and hands but had no strong feeling other than a dull throbbing pain and I hadn't recovered any fine movement skills. Several fumbling attempts finally let me remove the hood and blindfold and the first thing I saw were the sightless eyes of one of the Jaipers guards staring back at me. A strange expression that I could not read was on his face. Horribly, I could see his throat had been savagely torn out. It was ghastly and only mere inches from my face. I could feel I was lying in blood. I tore my eyes away only to lock them on a large timber wolf sitting calmly near me, panting in the summer heat. Blood covered its maw. I saw him look from me to something behind me and I felt a head poke my back a little and, a second later, the head of a dog came into my view. It was a beautiful dog as dogs go. He was large and reminded me of the ones I typically saw working with sheep and the herders. He was grey and white in colour — there being more grey than white. He looked pretty rough with thick matted fur and I could see he needed some attention and grooming. He licked my face enthusiastically and for some strange reason I started to cry. The dog whimpered a little and licked my tears until I managed to get a hand up and stop him.

  I struggled to get myself into a sitting position. After my energy ran out I gave up but I had managed to roll myself away from the dead man beside me. I was grateful for that one blessing and I lay there exhausted. My limbs were throbbing and still not responding to my thoughts with any accuracy. I was very thirsty and hungry but knew I could wait a little longer if I had to. I could move my head though and, with effort, managed to take in my whereabouts from my new vantage point.

  I could see now I was under a rather large oak tree in a clearing. This was the tree that had ignored me rather pointedly. A little ways away from me was the corpse of the other guard, now with one hand wrapped in a thick bandage. From what little I could see I was certain his throat had been torn out, too. I looked over to the timber wolf and queried him and got a negative reply back. So then, not this wolf. Then I spied the other wolf lying dead on the ground just past the dead guard. A knife was buried in its head and I shuddered to think of the force of the blow required to pierce its skull. This wolf had died saving me from these two men and I had trouble coming to terms with it. It did not sit well with me that a life had given itself for mine.

  I realised this wonderful wolf and the other one had probably saved my life. I had no idea where the dog came into this. I wished I could recover faster and then berated myself when I remembered my powers and I reached out to the earth and pulled energy in and started to heal myself. After a long period, I restored my arms and legs and stood at last on shaking legs and took stock of the area. The silence was intense and then I remembered the plugs in my ears and dug at the lumps and worked the first one free. The sounds of nature filled the air and I smiled at the beauty of hearing once again. I removed the second lump and tossed them angrily into the bushes surrounding the clearing.

  I looked at the men and then recognised them once I imagined their faces animated with life. Dead they were unrecognizable to me. These were the two guards who had stopped me at the gate in Jaipers. They had followed me this entire time. I felt a chill. It seemed I couldn't escape the fates. The assassin, the guards, the salt shop and now this capture. I was a wanted man for some reason. Not knowing why was consuming me and the need to find the manuscript Daukyns had hinted at was became more important to me.

  I looked at the dog who was sniffing the crotch of the dead man lying on the ground. "There will be more. I have to assume that. I'll never be safe until I can figure out what is going on."

  The dog ignored me and moved over to bite at the rope on the ground. Now free of it I could sense it better. It was the opposite of life. It was imbued with rot and sickness. I reached out to the earth and drew strength and tried to wipe the rope clear but my effort washed over the rope like it didn't exist. I frowned.

  "That is not normal," I said to the dog. "I have to do something about this." I thought for a moment and realised I was in a sorry state. "Maybe later...when I'm stronger."

  I took stock of myself: I was naked and covered everywhere with insect bites. The midges had drunk their fill from me over and over again until it seemed every inch of my skin was covered with angry, itching welts and scabs. The rope had left deeply infected grooves on my skin and I fingered them feeling the imprint of the rope. I was covered in my own filth but I was now more or less used to the stench. Cleaning myself up was not one of my immediate priorities. What bothered me the most was the ache that had settled deep down within my bones, and I couldn't be more miserable. I knew I could attempt to heal myself more thoroughly later but only once I figured out just how safe I was.

  The dog was moving from spot to spot in the clearing sniffing everything he could. Every now and then he would return to my side and brush up against me to remind me he was there. Annoyingly he would continually try to sniff my ass and crotch. My stink must be extreme, I thought.

  The whole time the wolf remained where he was watching me, or so I thought at first. Then I noticed he was watching the dog the entire time with only an occasional glance at me. I had been with wolves for many years and I was not afraid; however, this behaviour was not normal. Every time the dog would pass by the wolf, the wolf would dip his head. The dog was more alpha than the wolf. This was not the normal way of things but I had no desire to figure it out at the moment.

  I looked over at the dead wolf and my guilt flooded over me. I felt terrible that a life had been given to provide me with mine. I was honoured by the death of the wolf to save me but knew his death in his pack would be regarded as simply a loss. It was merely a death which came about from the wolf's lack of ability to survive. He would be mourned by his pack but he would soon be forgotten. It was the way with wolves. Only the living were honoured. The dead were soon forgotten. I would not forget, though. I gave his death meaning and I held on to that.

  I turned to the wolf and reached out to let him know I was impressed by his strength, prowess and ability to fight the bad humans and thanked him for his help rescuing me. The wolf held my gaze for a moment and then quietly stood, turned, and trotted quickly into the trees and disappeared. I sighed. Wolves led a simple life but without all the hang ups and restrictions humans apply to their society. Why he helped me I would probably never know but I was certain the dog had something to do with it.

  I remembered communicating briefly to the tree what seemed like days ago. I looked over to it and reached out but only sensed its life force and its tie to the nature all around it. Its roots dug deep and wide in the forest all around and the tree filled the balance here. It was staggering, the influence the tree held in this quiet glade. It touched all aspects of the area. There was no awareness of me from the tree. I remembered the tree turning away from me when I needed help the most. I put an image of an axe in my head and me striking the tree and that woke it up. The dog turned and growled at me. Fear washed over me in waves and I felt ashamed at what I had done. I reached out and tried to soothe the tree and after a while I was successful. It was not one of my proudest moments. I sent an apology to the tree but it had again moved away its awareness.

  "Sorry," I said meekly to the dog and I found it hard to speak with my dry mouth. I needed water and food.

  The dog tilted his head at me and then went back to sniffing all around the clearing. I
watched him for a while admiring his lines. I did not know the breed but I could see through his matted fur he was a strong and agile dog.

  I remained standing in the clearing drawing strength into me. I looked quickly at the two men and finally noticed their identical black boots. With a sinking feeling, I recognised them. This was all some strange conspiracy and I knew not what my part in it was, only that I was in the middle of it. What linked the coin, Bill Burstone, the assassin, my powers and the druids? It all had to be related. And I hadn't a clue as to why or what. I stood in the clearing shaking, looking in disbelief at the slain men who would have done me such great harm and I finally collapsed onto the ground and wept in frustration and fear. I was not a very strong person. I wanted nothing more than to simply escape into obscurity and put all this nonsense behind me. I looked over at the dog and wished I could trade places. The simple life of a dog for all this trouble. I would welcome the chance.

  Sensing my watching, the dog stopped and looked excitedly at me, barking softly and then, with a leap, disappeared through an opening in the bushes. I watched the opening for a moment and then laughed as the dog poked his head back through and, again, barked softly at me, turned, and disappeared once more. The meaning was clear. I groaned and stumbled after him on my weak legs. I felt as if I was walking on someone else's legs. I would tell my leg to move forward and, after a delay, it would obey. I must have looked a sight as I followed after the dog through the thick bushes.