by CW Tickner
Harl nodded.
‘Bloody crazy,’ Troy said. ‘But looking at you, somehow I can believe it.’
‘Come on’ Harl said, standing. ‘Better get you back and make introductions.’
‘To the golden-haired beauty?’ Troy said and started to straighten his top.
‘She didn’t come,’ he said, ‘but there are others.’
‘Other golden-haired beauties? Does she have a sister?’
Harl shook his head and laughed as they headed back to the house.
Chapter 69
I guess age catches all of us sooner or later. If only I had discovered them sooner, I could really understand them, even communicate.
Fire blossomed under the chimney. The flames were licking the sides of one of Emily’s biggest pots., casting a delicious smell of stew up into the air. Emily and the men had been throwing in food from their own packs in anticipation of the feast to come. Drew stood over the pot, stirring it gently, and proved to be a skilled cook when Harl tested the mixture.
Troy had taken well to all the men. He was fascinated with their weapons when they explained that one shot could kill from a distance. Like the others who had encountered him, Troy was taken aback by Oscar when the huge man stood to introduce himself.
‘I could use a strong hand on the farm,’ Troy had said, giving Oscar’s bicep a light squeeze. ‘If you need a job...’
‘Troy?’ Harl said.
‘A jest!’ Troy said, quickly throwing his hands up. ‘Just a jest.’
Oscar seemed amused by Troy’s antics.
‘How about a drink? Troy asked, ‘I’ll have one of the lads bring a cask over from the farm. I’ll pay him well for the delivery seeing as credits will be useless in a few days.’
Oscar had not drunk ale before and, in no time, he was singing its praises as food was slopped into bowls. Troy and Harl stayed up long in to the dark cycle staring out into the blackness of the Sight and talking of what had happened in his absence and what was to come.
‘Rufus has been pushing things,’ Troy said, swigging at a mug of ale.
‘He’s not rotted from the inside out yet?’
Troy chuckled then his voice turned sour. ‘Two of the Eldermen died suddenly before the last gifting. Both were against Rufus’s latest vision of building his sculpture.’
‘Sculpture?’
‘Of the One True God. To appease the almighty. Think he was hoping to get a bigger gift and to take a portion as a reward.’
Harl shook his head. ‘Mad,’ he said and stood up. Even having been outside the tanks for so long, he could almost tell when the light would switch on, so he headed for bed, knowing the day to come would be a long one.
Harl woke to find Damen sharpening his sword, while Oscar rubbed his sore head, classing ale as a terrible drink, one that places a foggy curse in the mind after sleep.
His first orders were to send a man back through the tanks to find Uman and have him prepare to receive a lot of people on their return. A message was also relayed to Oscar’s people instructing them to build extra tents around the large hut in their sandy tank. It would be the only stopping point where they could stock up on supplies before finally exiting the tanks. Drew led a small group to the quarry to cut down into the tank below and drop a book and one of the melting lances through.
Harl imagined Drew meeting Queeg, the brutish whip master of the quarries. It would be an interesting encounter. He could picture Drew putting Queeg in his place as he forced his way into the quarry. Whether Queeg would survive the encounter was difficult to judge.
Harl thought it best if only he, Troy, Damen, and Oscar met the Eldermen, to avoid anyone misinterpreting it as a show of force.
Dozens of townsfolk ran ahead of the four of them as they walked to the meeting hall. There was no doubt the Eldermen were expecting him. People he knew greeted them with questions and he had repeated the words “I’m back to free you all” about twenty times before they reached the Elder chambers.
Two guards stood in front of the ornate entranceway and Rufus walked out from the door behind them as soon as Harl arrived. The thin, hawk-faced man stopped and sneered at them as they approached.
‘What’s this all about?’ Rufus said.
Hearing his voice, the guards snapped to attention and stepped to the side. Rufus strolled out between them and raised his hand. The guards saluted and then lowered their hands to rest on their sword hilts.
‘Rufus,’ Harl said keeping a pleasant smile on his face in the hope to pacify the man’s constant scorn.
‘You?’ Rufus said. He frowned and his eyes narrowed. ‘It seems even the gods reject you, Eriksson.’
The guards tightened their grip on their weapons as Damen and Oscar filed in either side of him.
‘I’m here to speak to the council of Eldermen,’ Harl said. ‘It is urgent.’
‘An Elderman is already before you,’ Rufus said, laying a hand on his own chest. ‘State your business and I will consider its import.’
‘You don’t represent the council, Rufus.’ Troy said. ‘Move aside.’
It was the wrong thing to say. Harl could have sworn Rufus growled in his throat. The guards noticed it too and stepped forward, half-drawing their swords.
‘Things have changed since you left,’ Rufus said.
Harl sighed. If Rufus was in charge then they’d get nowhere.
Troy laughed.
‘If things had changed that much,’ Troy said, ‘then I’d have died and left, the same as Harl.’
Rufus, clearly not used to such outright insults grew red in the face.
‘I’m still an Elderman,’ he screamed. ‘Take them!’
The guards stepped forward to arrest them, but Harl was thrust aside as Oscar roared past, grabbed the nearest guard and hauled him off the ground with one-hand. He pinned the guard against the door and snarled as the man’s feet kicked the air.
At the same time, Damen lunged passed Troy and seized the other guard, choking off any protest by pressing his forearm against the man’s throat and pinning him to the wall.
Perhaps Rufus had been too distracted by Harl’s reappearance to notice the two alien men, but his eyes shot wide open as they wrestled his protectors into submission and then turned to him, grinning like savages.
Rufus took a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender.
‘As you can see,’ Harl said, stepping right in front of Rufus, ‘I too have changed.’ He thrust a hand out to grab the man’s white robes and pulled the wretched face closer. ‘I’ve seen more than you know, Rufus. I have fought battles and ridden on the heels of God. I’ve killed kings and monsters, vermin and filth, and crushed petty little men who think nothing of others. Men just like you.’ He shook Rufus with each word then released him.
Rufus staggered back, his hands shaking.
‘I will speak to the council, Rufus,’ Harl went on, ‘and, as an Elderman, you are entitled to join us, but push me and I’ll have you kicked out into the dirt.’ He looked at Oscar and Damen and they released the guards. Oscar even patted his man down, as if to clean him of dust.
Rufus spun on his heels and raced ahead into the building.
‘Are they all like that?’ Oscar asked.
‘No,’ Troy said. ‘Just Rufus. I don’t think anyone likes him. He probably even hates himself.’
Harl laughed and then walked inside, but his amusement crumbled away. It was time to tell his story. He just hoped they believed him.
The council room was large with thick wooden beams running along the roof. Three sides of the room had tiered benches that all faced the raised platform at the back. A semicircular table on the dais at the back of the empty hall seated the nine Eldermen, and Rufus had taken a place that was closer to the centre of the table than Harl remembered. The nine looked dishevelled, as if summoned in haste.
Arlet, the wizened Elderman in the centre of the half circle, stood up to address the four of them and to possibly get a better view
of the man who had come back from the dead.
He glanced from Harl to Oscar and then Damen in a moment of silence. When he’d apparently satisfied his curiosity, he spoke in a raspy but confident voice.
‘Harl Eriksson,’ he said, almost a question. ‘Where have you been since you were lifted almost six giftings past? How have you returned?’ He took his seat again, waving a hand for Harl to begin.
‘This will be a long story, Elderman Arlet,’ Harl said. ‘There’s much to relate and it’ll take some faith and time to believe what I have to say.’
Rufus stood up to interrupt him.
‘Faith,’ he said, ‘is for the gods.’
This is going to be difficult, Harl thought as he cleared his throat.
‘Rufus,’ he said, staring the man down, ‘you will be the least likely to believe what I have to say, and so I ask you to refrain from interrupting me until I have finished. As you have seen, I have living proof.’ He looked at Oscar and Damen pointedly. Rufus grunted as he sat back down. Harl lifted his gaze from Rufus and focused on the others at the table. ‘I’ll start my story from when I was lifted after the mining accident.’
He retold the tale that would seem as unbelievable to these men as it would have to him if he’d never left the tank. All throughout, the Eldermen struggled to contain their astonishment and outcries. Harl knew that the idea of their gods being nothing of the kind outraged them the most. He was throwing away all their lifelong beliefs and attempting to replace them with the truth about the outside world.
They could not dispute what he was saying as the evidence had walked in with him. The fact that Oscar and Damen were with him and had never been seen before immediately proved most of their beliefs wrong, and they could not disregard his words without looking foolish.
There was stunned silence when Harl had finished. He knew that it was his chance to convince them once and for all.
‘The people of this land have been getting less in number each and every gifting. There are too many being lifted; eventually there will be no one left. Would a benevolent god let his people die out?’ He let the words sink in. ‘But things do not have to continue like this. There is new hope for our people. I won’t deny that it will be dangerous on the path ahead. We’re stronger now than ever before and, by the time we get back through the tanks to Delta, we will number close to a thousand, more than enough to live comfortably.’ He looked at each of them in turn. There was doubt there but also something else, perhaps a craving to explore the possibilities now open to them.
Rufus was the first to react and, by the look on his pinched face, Harl knew it was not going to be acceptance.
‘This is ridiculous,’ he said jumping up and pointing an accusing finger down at them. ‘You want us to believe this wild story about cities, flying creatures, and some form of giant self-propelled cart to take us away.’ He paused, breathing heavy. ‘The gods will strike you down for this-’
He was interrupted as Arlet stood up and cut in.
‘Sit back down Rufus,’ he said and waited patiently until his orders had been followed before turning back to Harl.
‘Harl,’ he said, ‘as much as my mind wants to tell me otherwise, I believe you. But if we’re to uproot and leave then we will face many problems. Who will lead this group? Once we’ve integrated with each of these other lands, and those beyond, we will not be in charge any more. As you said, these other tanks have leaders like this Oscar,’ he said, indicating the big man.
Oscar spoke up at this, ‘I will have Harl lead my people.’ His rhythmic voice carried easily to the men above. ‘He has brought us this far without trouble.’
Harl was touched by the man’s words. He hadn’t known that Oscar held such a high opinion of him.
‘The people of Delta trust him, and so do I,’ Damen pitched in.
Harl had nothing to say except to mutter a ‘thanks’ and turn to the Eldermen again.
‘It is not a matter of leadership,’ he said. ‘I take no appointment unless it’s agreed by all, and I will step down to any who’d be willing and accepted in my place. We don’t need to debate these small matters. Much more is at stake here than leadership. The Aylen have kept us long enough and we either need to fight or flee from them. Assuming we choose to leave, the ship might take us somewhere else without these giants. We should go while we still have the knowledge to plant crops, taking our seeds and livestock with us. Whatever happens, survival is key and, to do that, we need to unite together and make a life worth living. A life without oppression and reliance on so-called gifts.’
Feeling that he had said all that he could, he knew that it was now up to the Eldermen to decide if they would let go their hold on power and follow him. If they did not, then it’d be up to the people to decide individually if they would return with him.
‘This window of opportunity to escape will not be open long,’ he said.
The Eldermen argued among themselves, but eventually broke apart. Apparently a decision had been made. Arlet stood to speak.
‘Harl Eriksson,’ he said. ‘We do not understand much of what you tell us of this outside, but you speak truth when you say that we’re dwindling as a people. We’ll follow your lead beyond the barriers. You understand that we’re giving up our leadership to you, at least as far as this journey is concerned, but if the people want us to continue to lead, we will. You may spread copies of this book among the people after we have addressed them all and told them of our decision. We’ll require at least three cycles as we prepare to leave, and we must think of the elderly and the children. This will be an arduous journey for them. Food will need to be stockpiled and possessions limited to what can be carried on foot. From what you say, there will be no way to get more than a satchel per person to Delta.’
‘That’s correct,’ Harl said. ‘We’ll also need the strongest men to help the elderly and children when we reach the ropes that lead down the side of the tanks towards the door.’
Arlet nodded his acceptance and the four of them were excused from the chamber, leaving Rufus in a heated argument with the High Elderman as they made their way back out to the streets.
‘You’re welcome to stay at my place, unless you plan on sleeping in Emily’s bed?’ Troy said as they walked back through the town to the house.
‘Certainly not,’ Harl said.
Troy nodded. ‘She’s a terrible cook anyway.’
‘I’m going to have a baby, Troy,’ Harl said.
Troy looked down at Harl’s belly as if some new technology had allowed genders to be reversed.
‘With Sonora,’ Harl said.
Troy beamed in delight and punched him in the arm.
‘Well done,’ he said. ‘What’s the bet?’
‘Bet?’
‘Boy,’ Damen said from behind.
‘Girl,’ Oscar countered.
Troy shook his head. ‘I don’t care about that.’
Harl was confused. Had the drink finally addled Troy’s mind. ‘What then?’
‘Black or blonde hair?’ Tory announced with a flourish of his arms.
The two warriors behind burst into laughter.
Chapter 70
Their perseverance and ability to adapt to any climate has led me to create fantastic works of art in the landscapes. I have begun to see why some hold competitions based solely on the aesthetics within.
‘I’m surprised the Elders agreed with you,’ Troy said as they walked through the streets. Eyes tracked them as they passed and an excitement hovered in the air that Harl had never known before. ‘Even Rufus must have given it some credit. Although I expect he’ll be trouble before the end. I doubt he enjoyed being put in his place. People were watching, and as you know, news spreads fast.’
‘I’ll deal with him when I must,’ Harl said. ‘There are more important things than Rufus.’
‘The people will expect you to speak to them at this announcement,’ Troy said.
Harl had guessed as much, but he felt more c
omfortable this time, having grown up among these people. If he could speak at ease with anyone, it would be them.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘we’d better be ready to answer a thousand questions.’
‘Then perhaps a drink first?’ Troy asked as a man stumbled out in front of them from the Golden Spear. He stopped to gaze at them before doubling over and throwing up in the street.
‘Welcome home,’ Troy said with a smile.
‘Perhaps a drink somewhere a little less populated?’ Harl said.
One drink at Troy’s farm later and news came from the town via an overly-excited Bren Pewter that everyone had gathered in Gifting Square. They were waiting for Harl to confirm the rumours.
When he and Troy arrived, they took their place on a makeshift podium that had been set up. Arlet, the head Elderman, was in the middle of a passionate speech about how the people would be migrating to a new land.
Harl was glad the old man had taken it upon himself to explain everything Harl had told him about the Aylen, giving a brief overview about what Harl had witnessed. By the end of the speech there was little else for Harl to do other than tell the people that he was grateful they were willing to go with him and what to expect on the journey to come.
When the time came for questions, a roar of shouting arose from the crowd as each person fought to have their question answered first. When would they go? Where did they come from? Who were these new people?
Harl could only explain that most of the answers were in the book.
‘Who are you to call our god a mere creature?’ one of the priests called out from a small group of robed figures.
‘You must decide that for yourself, Holyman,’ Harl said. ‘I can only show you the door. You must choose to walk through it. Let your own eyes decide what is real and what is an illusion.’
‘What about our things?’ a woman called out.
‘There is no way to carry them out of here,’ Harl said. ‘The journey is treacherous and long. You won’t be able to carry all that you wish. In order to live a free life you will have to give up the material chains that bind you to this place.’ He glanced at the richly-robed priests. ‘We will all start anew as equals.’
