by Chris Ward
They travelled as fast as Rema thought safe, which was not as great as he wanted for the path was narrow and he worried that the horse would stumble and fall into the shaft. The air was pure enough for the light shafts allowed a steady breeze to enter and bats abounded, small colonies in every one. About half way up after many dizzy turns around the shaft, with aching legs and an increasingly nervous horse which now sensed the great height to its unprotected side, they encountered another shaft, huge and black, which ran off into the mountain.
Rema felt a shiver as he passed it, and some deep instinct brought a dark fear to his mind. He felt the hairs on his neck and arms stand erect as though in warning. His horse was suddenly terrified for the smell of it had drifted deep into this new tunnel drawn down by an air current which was swift and unopposed.
‘Quickly now,’ Rema encouraged his mount to keep going knowing that some fell creature had learnt of their presence. ‘Keep calm,’ he whispered but his soothing words were no use and the horse whinnied loudly and tried to buck which brought its head into rough contact with the roof above it. By some miracle Rema was able to keep it standing and in a flash of inspiration took off the top of his tunic and held it over the head of the tormented horse. Unable to see, it went quiet and became obedient once more and Rema was able to slowly lead it on, two circles of the shaft and a little higher before he was aware that they were not alone. A strange sound of a huge creature panting heavily came to him now.
He knew he could not travel any faster and in the end he must sacrifice the horse, but he was not about to do so without some resistance. The dark passage was below him but not yet out of sight. The darkness within it seemed to boil and a foul stench reached out to him against the rushing air.
In a moment he had his bow drawn and judging as best he could in the dull light sent three arrows in quick succession into the shaft. They struck something huge and not easily moved, for each arrow brought a cry of discomfort, and then silence for a moment. Suddenly the arrows reappeared, thrown back as though plucked out as mere irritation. They fell, end over end into the blackness below. Rema knew then that he was defenceless; all he could do was flee.
He urged the horse on, whacking its flank with a balled fist. They hastened upward but down below whatever sought them was not deterred for long. Rema finally stood well above the evil shaft and once more drew his bow. Again in desperation as his mind quickened to save them he had another idea and wrapping a torn rag around the end of an arrow he waited. In horror he saw a huge limb with evil claws reach out and feel the circular path on which they had just passed by. The limb was long and another followed, and it too reached out and up and all about, even reaching across the sheer drop to the far side. It was clear to Rema that every point of refuge was no longer safe should this fell beast come out into the vertical shaft.
He saw however that the limbs were covered in a thin mat of dry hair, and this would be his only hope. Perhaps the beast did not like light, and fire was always a useful weapon.
He used his flint and instantly the rag on his arrowhead burned brightly. The creature seemed to sense it, and paused. Rema did not wait but shot his arrow into the hairiest limb. The creature recoiled in pain but little else, as though stung by a wasp, no more. But the fire caught on the dry hair and sizzled and burnt quickly. The beast screamed in fear and disappeared back into its lair. The foul smell of it rose to Rema and he tried hard not to take it in.
He prepared another arrow but it was not needed. The creature did not return and so propelled by the fear of what lurked below, the man and beast went on up as fast as they dared until with daylight fading rapidly they reached the top where Rema discovered an identical key hole. In moments another door hewn in the side of a large rocky outcrop had released them into a most beautiful highland twilight. Rema searched and this time easily found the key hole outside the door, built in the rock face itself, next to the hidden hinge. No sooner had the door swung silently shut and disappeared, than he heard from within a scream of frustration and several thumps which reverberated through the ground on which they stood. His horse bucked violently, and now without a roof to hold it down stood high upon its rear legs, eyes white and wide, whinnying in terror.
In a sudden sweat of fear Rema realised that the fell creature had silently stalked them, and they had only escaped by the barest margin. He shivered involuntarily then before struggling to calm his nervous mount.
When they were both breathing more easily he led the horse back to the edge of the mighty cliffs and looked out south down the massive gorge cut by the Swifft River over the ages. In the far distance Rema could see the Rolling Hills below the Barrier Mountains and then the land was lost in a haze of fading light.
I am almost home he thought, and the feeling which followed embraced him wonderfully.
*
He reached the town of Ashe two days later and was now in familiar territory for this was the largest of the Highland towns except for Farview which had overtaken it some score years before. His parents had brought him down from the Mighty Mountains to Ashe several times in his childhood and it remained a place of wonder for it was so much bigger than the small town of The Safeness which was his home, higher up and further north under Algehorn, the mightiest of all mountains in Revelyn.
He purchased a few gifts for his parents here, knowing what they liked and were unable to obtain in The Safeness. His mother loved the sweet perfume of the Ildress flowers, which grew only in the East Ridge Mountains close by Ramos in the Lowlands. He took two glazed jars filled with the essence for her. He knew his father would be building bows, as he had done for forty years, and always needed sabrecat gut for strings. Rema brought a considerable amount, and so laden, he headed up into the Mighty Mountains where the magic of the great peaks and clear air and icy water began to welcome him in a manner which no other place was able.
As he travelled his spirits rose. There was peace here and so much beauty. Life was hard, but for the careful it rewarded in ways which were impossible to understand unless you had experienced it as a child and into adulthood.
He passed through familiar villages now and in one, Highton, by chance he met his uncle, his father’s brother.
‘Rema, we have long wondered when we would see you again. Off on some adventure? Where is that lovely girl, the one you brought to meet us... Sylvion that was her name...’
And Rema thought...was… how true, and it brought a sudden pang of loneliness to his heart.
‘She became the queen of Revelyn, Uncle Deamir,’ Rema answered sadly. His relative stood bemused and scratched his head as though trying to work out if his nephew was serious or simply saying in a roundabout way that they had parted. Rema did not feel like speaking further on the matter so they talked a while of different things, and parted with him promising to pass on best wishes to his father.
‘Haven’t seen the man in two winters now... hope he is all right. Tell him to come visit,’ his uncle Deamir said firmly and Rema smiled, for this was a simple family battle which had raged gently since he was a child. Each requested the other to visit but neither ever really getting around to it unless by chance, business or some small fate brought them together.
‘I will surely pass on your wishes and request uncle, said Rema as he swung into the saddle once more.’
‘I see you have still not got a decent bow,’ his uncle said with a disapproving gesture at the offending article which hung easily over Rema’s shoulder.
Rema bent down from his saddle to shake his hand.
‘This bow, uncle Deamir, saved Revelyn,’ he said evenly, ‘I think it will do just fine.’
And with that he rode off, climbing higher still until within the day he had at last arrived.
The Safeness was a most unusual town. It was ever argued whether it was large enough to be called this, or as some demanded, more properly a village. It was one of those endless irritations which bothered people of small minds with too little to do. Rema had always
thought it a town; he let others argue the toss of it.
It was nestled in the huge cone of a long dormant volcano. At its centre was a deep lake which was continually warmed from fissures in the rock which led down to where the heat was mighty and everlasting. The warm water kept the air above it in the cone heated and free from snow except during the most violent blizzards, and the earth was rich and produced food by the barrow load. Small houses of cut stone and thatched roofs were dotted all about the lake and well up the steep slope of the cone itself. Many visitors from lower places made the journey to The Safeness each year, for the lake held healing properties which were renowned throughout Revelyn. Much profit came to the town each year because of this, and it had allowed much business including Rema’s kindpa’s bow-making to thrive.
A Safeness Bow was much sought after in the Highlands and increasingly Lowlanders too were hearing of them, and a few even made the long journey up into the Highlands and the Mighty Mountains to obtain one. Their great popularity made Rema’s strange creation seem quite odd, and most wondered why he had such a thing when his father’s bows were superior to begin with.
Rema was overjoyed to see his hometown once more. He rode eagerly down into the cone and stopped at the lake where he completed the ritual of return which all dwellers in The Safeness did whenever they had been away too long. He knelt down and splashed the warm water on his face and neck, and washed his feet.
A few folk recognised him and he made cheerful small talk on his way through the town and up the winding track which climbed the far side of the cone. His childhood home was near the top. It was a simple but solid stone building of four rooms and a large workshop cut deep into the rocky rim of the crater where his father built his famous bows.
He stopped at the gate made of ironwood and breathed a huge sigh. He tied the reins of his horse to the timber rail of the simple fence.
‘You are home Rema,’ he said in a whisper, ‘you are home.’
He knocked on the door and was soon embraced by his kindma in tears and hugs and a cry to kindpa to ‘Come quickly man our son is returned!’
At the word son, Rema felt a sharp arrow of pain race through his heart. He was not their true son, and they had never spoken of the truth.
What am I to say? He thought, but had not time to think upon it for his kindpa raced into the room and he too embraced him powerfully. All three shed tears and laughed and Rema gave his presents which brought further tears, and for a time the warm kitchen was full of deep emotions and garbled snippets of stories and conversation. It took some time before they all settled down to a meal and were able to talk of what had passed since they had parted near three summers before.
Rema lay in his old bed that night, happy that he was home, and yet with a growing feeling of sadness within. He knew that his life had changed forever and now that his plans for a life with Sylvion were over there was an emptiness which he had not faced till now. He began to wonder why he had ever returned, for he had once vowed that his life lay beyond this high volcanic cone which had so defined his world as a child.
His parents had chatted happily into the evening and filled him in with all the small town happenings which had come to pass since he had left. He realised that they were not greatly concerned with the world beyond, indeed they seemed unaware of the dark menace which had threatened so many… and so he had spoken little of what he had done and indeed he felt that perhaps they did not need to know, for his life had been full of violent things which might only serve to upset them.
They were astonished that Sylvion was now Queen in Revelyn, but they did not ask much about how this had come to pass, and so Rema told them only that she had discovered that she was a true heir and how after some trouble the throne had been won. He did not mention his adventures and the discovery that they were his adoptive parents and all else which flowed from that. He had realised that they thought him to be their true son and loved him accordingly. He had no wish to cause them upset, for he had seen too much of that in recent times.
Rema had not mentioned Serenna’s death, for she had not been spoken well of after she had disappeared, and the woman he long thought to be his aunt, Serenna’s kindma had been so hurt that the subject could not easily be mentioned without pain, so it was not, and after time and habit she was no longer talked of, although none had stopped loving the beautiful yet impulsive girl whom Rema had grown up with.
He thought of her then and suddenly realised with a pain that of all the loss he had experienced, he missed her most. He had learnt of her long love for him and yet he had tried to remain true to Sylvion even as she grew from him. Serenna had only ever acted purely and never tried to come between them, and yet now as he thought about her he realised with an increasing unhappiness that she was the reason he had returned home. Here was where they had been happy together before so much had risen up to keep them apart.
He remembered her beauty and they way she had entranced him over and over again, how he loved her brave ways and fearlessness in the face of danger. So many visions passed before him that he wept in sorrow for what had been, and now had been lost forever.
He slept fitfully and woke to the familiar smells of his childhood, but the ache of his reality.
He was alone.
That morning he sat and talked more quietly with his parents. They mentioned Serenna now and then, but told of how her house further up toward the rim of the crater on the north side, the highest house it was said in all Revelyn, was no longer home to Serenna’s parents, his kindma’s sister and her husband.
‘They are too old now Rema,’ said his kindma. ‘My sister wanted to move into the town and be nearer the water. She cannot climb the path to her home any longer. They argued for a long time those two, but in then end she won. They found a small place by the lake, and have not returned.’
‘What of their house?’ Rema asked for it was a place he had loved to spend time in. A half thought crossed his mind. Perhaps if it was empty he could settle there and at least be close to the happy memories of his childhood.
‘It was empty for a long time,’ his kindma said in a brooding sort of way. ‘but I think they have found a caretaker, for I have seen a light in the window several nights passed, so at least it will be cared for and not fall into ruin. That would be a pity.’
Rema nodded, but already he was thinking that a caretaker could be paid off; he might be able to work some way to live there. It would be something to plan for. In that moment he determined to at least go and look at the place when perhaps the caretaker was away. He wanted to be alone there with his thoughts and memories if he were to decide upon such an action. No need to disturb the person if he felt it was not right.
Rema thought about this for several days. In the meantime he did his best to help his kindpa in the workshop and quickly realised that he loved working with the different woods once more. The smell of fresh timber and oils and glues were like a familiar pleasure long forgotten now restored. And there was the final completed bow, smooth and whip like, able to send an arrow truly. It was a joy to create such a thing. He realised that he had forgotten the pleasure he had experienced when constructing his own special bow. Slowly he began to feel that he could happily do such work, and had several ideas to improve his kindpa’s already superior weapons.
At night he watched the house higher up and a half league to the west where his ‘cousin’ once lived. It was wonderfully situated; almost at the rim but close in by a sheer rock wall through which a tunnel had been cut allowing easier access to the outer cliff and the most amazing view in all Revelyn. From that point he and Serenna had often started off on their famous Orax hunts and explorations of the mountains all about.
There was a light in the window which burned every night, and yet each time he looked he hoped that it would not be there, a sign that the caretaker had found it too lonely or not to their liking; but night after night he was disappointed and he realised that he would have to go and look the house over
carefully when the person was not about.
He waited three more days, and each night the light burnt brightly. On the fourth day he set out well after noon and made his way carefully up the winding track, so familiar and well worn. He carried his marvellous bow and quiver of arrows for they gave him an excuse to be out hunting if challenged. As he drew near he caught a movement to one side of the house; he quickly hid behind a bush. A figure appeared, a man of slim build, well clothed and hooded walked down toward the far boundary fence of the old property and in a simple agile motion leapt the fence and dropped quickly down the hillside by the faintest path. Rema watched him go and realised that this caretaker was well suited to life in such a place. Nimble and sure footed he had in short time already worked out a quicker way down to the township than by the slow and winding road on which he now trod.
But then his hopes rose.
At least the house is empty now.
He walked quickly up the last hundred paces and carefully made his way to the back door. He had always used the back door, and he knew where a simple key was hidden which was in all likelihood still there. He and Serenna had used it many times.
Sure enough, it was in its hiding place of old. He opened the door and went slowly in. A warm smell of baking bread enveloped him and in that very moment he determined that he would somehow make this place his home for it brought back so many happy memories. The house had been well looked after, the table scrubbed and all the few dishes done and put neatly in racks. The floor was swept and fresh vegetables hung from the overhead beams in great bunches. Rema felt as though he had stepped back in time for it was just as if he had never left. He half expected Serenna to come bubbling through the door and challenge him to some new dare.
