“Watch your tongue or I will have it removed,” the man spoke with venom and in such a way that Kerry wholly believed he would, “You gave no tithe and so this is your punishment. You are warned. We will return tomorrow.”
“The promised delivery was for three weeks hence, I’ve only just returned from Adalayia. His lordship vowed by City and Country the debt would be put aside until then.” Kerry gulped for air, cooling her temper, “I truly have nothing to offer you. I did not know I was to give tithe until three weeks hence.”
“Is this your scrawl upon the book of markets?” he demanded as another at his side produced a large tome.
“I’m not sure,” stated Kerry, taking a step forward, “maybe it is…”
“Either it is or it isn’t. There are no maybes…” Anger flowed to the man’s gruff face.
Kerry took a closer look, “Yes,” she said, lying. She couldn’t be sure. She couldn’t read—reading wasn’t a skill Stirling had taught her. She had only made a mark as Stirling had showed her. Suddenly, she recalled something she had forgotten, something that she only now understood. Stirling was a proud man, and even while her mother had been there, he had told them both to wait while he went into the market house. Now she understood the purpose of the quarter stack that was laid carefully aside come winter collection time. The quarter stack her father carried into the market house that was never seen again.
“When we return, we will take three times our normal share,” and then he tossed in, “Good day…” as he beckoned his men to withdraw.
“I cannot get that much meat in one day. The trees do not produce that much so fast. You have to give me more time,” argued Kerry, feeling a sudden surge of bravado as they swept from her home.
“Fine, fine,” chuckled the man, “you shall have all the time you will require…” He stopped, his grimace broadening as he watched a look of gratitude grow on Kerry’s face. “One day, no more no less, and if you do not produce the tithe, perhaps we will take something else next time… Something more precious that you can ever imagine.”
Kerry shuddered. “But I can’t…”
The man adeptly cut her off as he took a step toward her and reached a gloved hand out to her face, grabbing hold of the underside of her chin. His hand was large and powerful and his fingers stemmed from ear to ear. He twisted her face up as if in a vise. “You will,” he intoned, his face pulled so close to hers that Kerry felt his stank breath on her skin and smelled it as she inhaled painfully.
With his other hand, he slapped her face. “Don’t ever speak back to me again. You will do what I command.”
Kerry heard a faint scratching from behind her. Hastily, she slumped back onto the bed, concealing the low moan, with a mighty sob, “I will, I will do it. Please leave now, please.”
The other seemed to like the desperate look on her face and it made him smile wryly again. “It is good that we understand each other. You know, City would probably suit you best. This is no place to be alone.”
“I’m…” Kerry yanked to a halt. “I’m thinking about it.”
The man smiled in approval, exiting without further delay. Kerry watched him go, real, thick, vibrant tears issuing forth the instant the door clicked closed. She curled up onto the bed, shivering uncontrollably, fighting to pull herself together.
Ray could cower no longer. He sprang out from under the bed, wielding his fists into the air wildly. He had not heard the other leave and he was indeed surprised when he found the other had gone.
“Kerry, are you alright? Did he hurt you? So help me if he did—”
“No, he didn’t. Get back! They may return. You mustn’t be found,” her words were sincere.
“I am going nowhere!” persisted Ray.
Kerry put a hand to his shoulder. “There is nothing you can do. This is my own problem, and I will deal with it.” With a final shudder, she seized up the tears in her eyes, and collected herself, touching a cloth to her face, and pushing back her hair. She stood and walked to the door then. “Stay here,” she commanded, “I will return soon.”
Ray ran to the door and cut off her exodus. “Where are you going? You’re not going anywhere without me,” he objected.
“I must talk to the trees and gather the wet…” she stopped and corrected herself, “the life liquid… You must remain here.” The mistake showed just how much of an influence Ray had on her life at the moment. If he had stopped to put his arms around her and to tell her everything would be all right, perhaps she would have stayed and listened to his words, but he did not. Instead, he backed away from the door.
“I will go with you,” insisted Ray.
Kerry’s strong-minded spirit took over, “No, you will remain here! If they see you, there is no telling what they will do to you. You must stay inside and out of sight. It is for your own protection.”
Although Ray said nothing more, he appealed to her with his eyes. “Let me go with you,” the expression read, “I will be alright. We will be alright.” Kerry had a differing opinion; she closed the door behind her as she departed.
Ray began clearing the mess within the house. His heart was shattered, similar to the broken rocker. While he picked up the pieces and straightened out the mess, there wasn’t much else he could do. He did not know the art of the builder, and so all he could do was look at the pile of shattered dreams, wishing they would become chairs, table and rocker again.
Meanwhile outside, Kerry greeted the fallow sun, which seemed so remote and indifferent to her plight. She whispered words of the winter harvest to the trees, chasing after them words of her own. “I know, I know,” she said, “you have just given, but you must give again. There is need, great need. Will you do this for me?” She asked permission, even though she knew they would do as she bade regardless. “Will you do this for me?” she repeated.
Kerry hummed to calm her nerves, telling herself that it eased the frets of the trees as well. She applied the life liquid, a full day’s supply in one dosage, and then she was off to make the long trek to the edge of the world. The edge of the wet, she corrected herself.
As she hurried on her way, Ray slunk out of the house, crouching low, sometimes walking on hands and knees to stay abreast with her. There was no way he was going to let her go alone and his thin form slipped in nicely amongst the shadows.
Ray stayed at the top of the hill. He did not venture into the open, though he remained alert watching for the smallest hint of movement from either the wet or the dry. Morning was a favored feeding time for slither and bull, but Ray did not scrutinize for them alone, he also kept a close eye on the edge of the Out, knowing those men could return at any time. As Kerry started up the hill, Ray pulled back, remaining out of sight.
Kerry sang to the trees again, and this was the very first time Ray ever discerned the words. The song was beautiful. Ray had never heard a voice carried thus, so pristine it seemed. He could almost envision the words floating on the air, each radiating out to one by one, setting leaves to quivering and the trees’ bowels to action.
Ray was sad when the song ended, its conclusion so unexpected that he almost tumbled from the shadows. He had been leaning his chin against his hand, head down and heavy, and while he had not noticed it then he had been swaying to the song.
Ray followed Kerry to the edge of the wet three more times that day, wondering at her strength of conviction. He also listened to her song three more times that day and by the time the last word drifted across to the trees, the words and the song were etched indelibly into his mind where they repeated ceaselessly. Kerry truly had a gift and Ray was in awe of it.
Ray watched her stroke the trees now, coaxing them with kind words, words that Ray could no longer understand. Taking advantage of opportune timing, Ray slowly graduated towards the house, slipping indoors without making a sound. He crawled past the window, eased onto the bed. He pulled the covers up around him, sealing his eyes and feigning deep sleep.
Indeed Ray was asleep when Kerr
y came into the abode. The day had been draining and he was in the midst of a dream as her footsteps awoke him. Her eyes were downtrodden as she turned to greet him. He rubbed true sleep from his eyes. “Sunset so soon?” he asked.
Kerry nurtured the surprise from her eyes. Asleep! She was outraged for an instant. She had fancied him her champion and instead, he slept. “Yes,” she responded glumly.
“What do you think they will do when they return tomorrow? Will they take the…” Ray searched for the proper word, “fruit and leave? Or do you think they really want something else?”
Ray’s words only reinforced Kerry’s worries. She hoped they would leave if she provided what they asked for. “I think so,” she said as if offering to the very air around her to make the choice.
Ray sat straight up, moved to the end of the bed, his eyes wide. “What if we left before they arrived? What then? We could go. In hours we could be far away from here and you would not have to worry about anything.” Ray stopped, his head sagged heavily as his words seemed to be lost on her, wasted.
Ray began again, his voice containing a rare quality, the portent of known truth. “There is nothing here for you, Kerry. You told me this yourself. What I saw is real; it is out there. We have only to believe and we will find it. I saw the truth of it upon the old smoot’s face and in his eyes, in Waddymarre’s eyes, my father’s eyes. I will reach the place he could never find. I will find the place of dreams and make it real. He knew this when he sent me out and he all but told me so with his eyes, powerful probing eyes.”
Ray believed and that simple truth was enough to make his views not only reach out to Kerry, but to shake her soul violently and rend apart simple thought. However, one thing held her back. “Ray,” Kerry drank in Ray’s deep stare, “I cannot leave. I made a promise. I must stay…”
“If you made a previous promise to stay, make me a new promise that you will go. And then we will go together, you and I! It’s not safe for you here, you must know that.”
“Ray, I cannot. I must stay here. I must tend to Waring. He will return and if I am not here… If I am not here, who knows what will happen to him.”
Ray threw a plea into the air, much like Kerry’s own, though he wished for a different thing that he hoped would come true. He would have to wait and see, but he hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer. The stone land was calling to him, and in his dreams the wizard seemed somehow closer than he’d ever been before.
Chapter Twelve:
Discovery and Escape
Kerry awoke first, before the sun even considered appearing in the distant east. She was gripped with stark, real fear and a mundane, unhappy task lay before her.
During the long night, she hadn’t slept much. The floor was hard and ungiving. Ray had offered her the bed, but she had refused. The rocker—which was now broken—was the only place she could find sleep anyway and one of them needed to have coherent thoughts come morning.
Ray would wake soon. She knew this and so she hurried. In the dark, she followed the long path from her home, raising the call to all listening ears, though her Waring was not to be found.
Sorrowfully, with the arrival of dawn she returned, her one chance banished. The meat was plentiful though. The trees had produced as she had asked, for which she thanked them. She couldn’t tell the trees though that what they produced was not enough to satisfy the tithe.
She began to gather the meat and soon had enough to last Ray and her many days. She would be sad if she had to give it away to those who wouldn’t appreciate it. As she entered the storehouse to empty her pack in the storage bins a final time, she saw Ray. Ray’s pack lay in the middle of the floor, appearing more full than usual. Kerry took note of the blankets and bedroll perched on top of it. Two canisters sat beside it, canisters that she knew had been empty the day before and were now filled. Ray was hunched over tidying seals, almost ready to lift the pack to his shoulders as he heard her enter.
“We are going. Your things are stowed,” was all he said. Ray shouldered the pack, adjusting under the heavy weight awkwardly until it was settled.
“But Waring,” lamented Kerry, “I cannot leave him.”
Ray looked her in the eye. “Apparently, he is well enough to fend for himself.”
“You don’t understand. If he returns and I am not here, he will never come back and I will lose him.” Unhappily, Kerry gazed around the room. “If we go, where will we go to?”
His retort was simple, “To Adalayia.”
Kerry stopped him from passing through the door. “No, Ray. You can’t go to Adalayia. You don’t understand what will happen to you if you go there. The people there will not understand you or your kind. You will not like it.”
Kerry urged Ray to hide everything in the empty storage bins. After he did this, Kerry returned to the main house. He followed.
They set to arguing. Her inventing reasons why she must stay and him countering with reasons she must go with him. To him leaving was a thing that must be done, and her going with him was also a thing that must be done. He decided right then though that he would tell her nothing of his latest dream—the dream which she was a part of, the dream in which she rode upon the back of a dragon lizard and the skies were full of great flying beasts.
A scratching at the door startled them both. Instant silence followed. Ray quickly reverted to the ways of the In, seeking both to defend himself and to get distance between himself and the thing that had startled him. He was scarcely more than a few steps away before he returned to Kerry’s side however. She, for her part, didn’t move. Ray thought her bold but perhaps foolish. Anyone who was foolish enough to stay in the path of a bull was swept away and pulled down to the depths.
A shrill call sounded, followed by a rough tapping. Ray was certain the soldiers had returned and it was now too late to run. What would they do? How would they defend themselves? Could they defend themselves? They had no weapons, no protective clothing.
Both were spellbound, frozen in place, waiting for impending doom. The window, thought Ray, they would slip out the window. The scratching returned, there was the call again.
A curious grin crossed Kerry’s face. A fire returned to her downtrodden eyes. Ray was trying to move her to the window but she refused. She moved instead to the door and when she swung the door open, he mistook her startled gasp of wonder as horror.
He dropped from the window to the floor with a thud, and whirled around, staff in hand, ready to strike. A strike he nearly followed through with when confronted by the wary beast. The falkish had returned, almost as if on cue. Kerry’s calls and Ray’s prayers had not gone unanswered.
The falkish seemed to take an instant liking to Ray, as he did to it. Ray had never seen such a beast, clad in gray, black and brown feathers. Waring did not remain still for long, quickly returning to his high-pitched calls, then just as suddenly settling onto the crossed stave planted before the door. As Waring swept across the room Ray got full view of the immense wingspan for the first time and was undeniably awed.
“Where were you, you naughty boy?” asked Kerry, stroking the falkish’s head. “Go on, tell me?” she repeated, “No need to be shy with company and all.”
Kerry soothed Waring’s ruffled feathers. “Is that so,” she responded. “Well you’ll just have to tell her, you are mine and I will not let go of you ever again.”
Ray was hesitant to interfere, doing so only after allowing a short period of silence to follow. “You can speak to it?” he asked amazed.
“Of course, silly,” Kerry said.
Ray thought it unnecessary to remark on this. “We had better be off. There is no telling when they will come. Do you know which way they will come from?”
“Don’t you think we ought to think this through? This is so sudden. I’m not so sure I want to go anywhere, Ray.”
Kerry struggled with inner demons. In her mind’s eye she saw Stirling urging her to stay. The Country was her home; the City was no place for her and it
certainly wasn’t a place for Ray. She started to tremble and a quiver set to her cheek as she heard voices far off, echoing down from high up in the hills. Surely these were the voices of the soldiers returning and without a moment’s hesitation she pulled Ray from the house. Ray could never be found by the soldiers; their kind held only hate in their hearts for those from other lands.
Within minutes as the two looked on from the storehouse where Kerry kept the meat of the trees, the soldiers arrived. A large brute of a man rapped once on the door, the sound of which had barely faded when he ordered the door bashed in. Kerry stood as soldiers swarmed into her small home. The first soldier through the door was greeted by Warring’s claws. As Warring burst out the door screeching, his talons dripping, he shot high into the air.
Ray pulled Kerry down to safety before she could do anything then hurriedly checked the bundle at his side to ensure True was in the enclosure. He sighed with relief as True’s cool tongue flitted against the back of his hand.
“Search the grounds and down the hill,” the leader ordered a group of men. To a second group, he commanded, “Destroy everything!”
Kerry struggled against Ray’s grip, fighting to break free to save her home. Ray held on with all his strength. “You can do nothing but get yourself killed,” he told her, begging her with his eyes to stop struggling.
“My home,” Kerry whispered, her voice weak, tears in her eyes.
“Home is where and what we make it, Kerry,” Ray told her, “I know this as I know no other thing. The land beyond is there, I know it. My father saw it in his dreams and so have I—and I cannot rest until I try.” He hesitated for a moment, then he told her of his latest dream, the dream of which she was a part. “You mustn’t be afraid to try, Kerry. … We must go now before it is too late.”
In her mind’s eye, she saw it then: the land beyond the beyond. She saw the rain wash and the great washfalls that Ray had told her about. And then strangely, she saw Stirling standing tall, holding her mother’s hand, pride showing in his eyes. The sense of pride was fleeting though as his eyes and face betrayed concern, anguish.
The Robert Stanek Short Story & Novella Collection Page 12
