Snowlands

by H. O. Charles

  “You tested my blood and his?”

  “Of course! I used up nearly a month’s supply topping you up when you arrived. You’d lost enough of it to fill the Xemarr River! But yes, I had to make sure I was giving you the right stuff once the universal ran out… and testing his things was, well, a bit of necessary curiosity.”

  She looked back to the dead man’s face. Could he have been a lover? A husband? A relation? Or a friend?

  “This man saved your life, Raia.”

  And for what benefit? What sort of thanks could she offer him when he was both nameless and dead?

  A glint amongst his fingers caught her eye, and she prized the cold, hard digits apart to investigate. It was a signet ring, marked with the crest of a shield and a bird. Nothing about the image brought new thoughts to her mind.

  “Sometimes things are written on the insides of rings,” Colobrin said softly.

  “Do you think he will mind if I remove it?”

  The doctor smirked. “He’s hardly going to do anything about it now, is he?” This doctor had a very peculiar attitude to death, it seemed.

  Raia struggled to extract the ring, which seemed to have been glued onto its owner’s fingers with more blood and an age of having remained in situ. With some effort it came, however, and she held the worn object up to the orange glow of the lamps. She was in luck. A delicate script traced along the insides of the metal. Ihurade na hamila. She read it aloud, having no idea of its meaning.

  “Family of Ihurade,” Colobrin said immediately, “I don’t know them personally, but I’ve heard of one of their sons. Very famous rebel general, Daemar Ihurade. I think our man here is too young to be that gentleman, but I suppose it’s possible he’s a relation.”

  Ihurade. She turned the name over and over in her mind, trying to force something out of it. Nothing came. “I ought to seek out the family.”

  “When you’re ready to travel. Until then, what do you want me to do with him? I don’t have a great deal of space in here, and new ones are coming all the time.”

  Raia stared at him agog. Was this how she would be processed when her end came? Cada’shan! “This man deserves a good burial at the very least, and he ought to have something on his headstone.” But what to write on it? Gone and forgotten? Rest well, Mr Ihurade? “I would like to keep hold of this ring and his sword until I know more of his identity. Is there somewhere pleasant we can lay him to rest?” Somewhere more pleasant than this hole.

  “Why not the mountainside where I found him? The trip may rumble a few memories for you.”

  “Alright.”

  Three days passed before she was permitted to stride outside of the house, and even then she was not allowed to walk under her own steam. A burbling aur-bike sat ready for her, and Raia had the definite feeling that she had never liked such machines. She had left the sword and ring in her room, still utterly perplexed by their meaning. None of Colobrin’s info-tabs held much on the name Ihurade, and seemingly no pictures were stored of the famous general. Privacy laws, Colobrin had grumbled at her, no photos and names together.

  There had been a moment the day before though, a moment where the morning sun had caught the surface of the blade, and she was sure she had seen the same effect not long ago. Then again, she still had problems recalling what had happened an hour before, so for all she knew it could well have been a memory from the same day.

  She hissed in annoyance as she clambered onto the wobbly, petrol-fumed vehicle and grasped tightly onto the handlebars.

  “Ready?” the doctor called to her. Ihurade’s body had been sheeted and placed in a trailer behind Colobrin’s bike. A grav-spade and rough-made headstone lay next to it.

  “I think so. I’m not sure if I remember-” She was not given time to finish her sentence, as the doctor revved his bike and hurtled into the distance. “Bloody great,” she muttered under her breath. She was fairly sure the right handle was the throttle, but had no idea what the left was for. And where were the brakes on this thing? Raia bit her lip and, ever so gently, twisted the right grip. Just as she had expected, the bike shot away from its spot as if thrown out of a tornado, rocketing after the doctor’s. It was all she could do to hold onto the thing.

  A few hair-raising turns and off-balance manoeuvres followed, but soon she found herself enjoying the feel of the cold air on her cheeks and the winter sun at her back. The lands around were a very strange sort of orange rock, dry and shale-shaped, icy and mud-less. It wasn’t long before the edge of the plateau became visible, and the side of the mountain that descended steeply beyond it. The doctor halted his bike by the edge with a smooth sweep and slow brakes, while Raia discovered she had far less control. The left handle of her machine appeared to have something to do with slowing her speed, but turning it only produced a sharp swivel of her bike and a swift dismount for the rider. Raia lay on the ground for a moment, hoping that she had not ripped any of her stitches and listening to the stalling sounds of her disappearing vehicle. At least her right arm remained properly splinted. That was good.

  “That wasn’t very graceful, now was it?” Colobrin came striding toward her. “Everything still in one piece?” He paused before helping her to her feet.

  “Fine. I knew I hated those things.”

  The doctor chuckled. “They are quite instinct-driven. I was hoping you’d still have some motor memory, but I suppose that wouldn’t be present if you didn’t ride them much.” He seemed far too pleased with his discovery of her inability.

  “No.” Raia hobbled to the plateau’s edge and peered over. It was a sheer drop to the base of the valley, covered in gorse bushes and fierce shards of rock. A swollen river wavered along the valley floor, leading to a white building some distance to the east.

  The doctor followed her gaze. “That’s the compound. Burned to a cinder, I’m afraid. I’ll take you there later, if you like. Though there’s not much to see.”

  She moved her eyes back to the escarpment at their feet. “He carried me up this?”

  “That’s what the blood tells me, Raia.”

  A new-found respect for her dead friend blossomed through her conscience. Even healthy and unencumbered, such a climb would have been challenging. She sighed as she realised she had forgotten the man’s family name again. Surely he deserved better than this. Why wouldn’t her damned brain just work?!

  “It’s a beautiful view here, don’t you think?” Colobrin placed a hand on her shoulder, probably for comfort.

  Raia assessed the sprawling mountains and snowy peaks beyond, their farthest reaches so pale that they dissolved into the white sky above. It was quite impressive, but it left her stomach in knots. This land had not treated her all that well, and perhaps it was hiding memories she was better off without. “What was his name again?”

  “Ihurade,” the doctor said without an inch of impatience. In spite of his peculiar sense of humour, the doctor was proving himself very good at dealing with her pudding brain.

  “Thank you.” And thank you, Ihurade.

  They buried him swiftly using the grav spade, shifting earth and rock with almost no effort at all. By the time the sun had reached its zenith, a small, blank headstone had been propped at the end of his grave. It had been left entirely devoid of decoration or words, at Raia’s request. She would find something appropriate to write on it once she knew exactly what was appropriate, and once she discovered whether this man’s name was indeed Ihurade. She shed a tear or two for his efforts before they left, though in truth her greater sadness was that she was somehow doing this man a disservice. Perhaps he would have some proper tears from her when she remembered him.

  She was almost glad to return to the aged gloom of the doctor’s house that afternoon. Their search of the burned-out compound had proved utterly fruitless. Looters and other visitors had clearly been there in the intervening weeks, leaving their footprints in the ash and their food wrappers lying about the ground. Rows and rows of fresh graves had covered the nearby hillsi
de, while blackened timbers marched between the nameless bodies. It had been a heart-chilling sight to behold.

  Raia paced towards the tall window at the end of the Colobrins’ dining room, looking out upon the white lands beyond. Everything had been covered by a fresh layer of snow that evening, and yet that snow appeared almost insipid. It was nowhere near the snows she had known: biting blizzards that could whisk your head off with a sneeze of ice. She remembered... something about the snows... the feel of them against her legs. “I ran through them,” she whispered.

  “Through what?” The doctor approached her, hands clasped at his back in a knot of tree roots and sinew.

  “The drifts – the snows. I ran through them.”

  “Yes, when I found you it looked like you’d tried to run with half your guts falling out.”

  “No. Not then. What I remember is... I was strong, healthy. I did it a lot.”

  “And that was your work? Running?”

  She frowned. “I don’t know – perhaps. But I loved it.”

  “Šona,” he huffed, folding his arms.

  “Do they run?”

  The doctor frowned a very deep frown. “They’re hedonists. They live for pleasure – or did. But they didn’t live in The Snowlands. Perhaps you mistake snow for dust or sand.”

  No, it had been snow. Vast amounts of snow. She was sure of that, and she was sure that the lands around this house were nothing in comparison to the place she had been before. “Šona -did?”

  “Most of them were wiped out well over a decade ago. Sighter Turoth’s doing. There are only a few of your kind left here and there. I’m sorry.”

  That meant she would have been a child when it had happened, assuming that her true age matched her looks… and assuming her resemblance to these people was not just coincidental. Was there anyone out there who would know her? She pushed the thought aside for later consideration. “Tell me then, what can I do to repay your kindness?”

  Mrs Bron – or was it Brin - pursed her lips briefly. “My husband needs another nurse. Do you have the stomach for blood and mess?”

  “She sprinted miles clutching a stomach pouring with the stuff. She’ll do, Mag.”

  Raia could not contain the grin that spread across her face. “Very well then. I shall help with your patients until my debt is repaid, and until my memories have returned.”

  And that is how Raia became a nurse, a doctor’s assistant and finally a student of medicine for Colobrin. From the moment her strength returned, she would run in the fields and the snows – a practice she never missed a day of. Three summers and three more winters passed in which she tended to the crushed limbs of diggers, or the strains and sprains of their carriers. She employed the chemical preparations of the doctor, most of which were his inventions, and she began experimenting with her own concoctions. After all, there had to be a way to make healing more pleasurable, surely? Colobrin laughed and called her Šona every time she mentioned the logic behind her methods, as reasonable as they seemed to her.

  In all that time she remained memory-less, though her ability to keep track of recent events, names and treatments improved. She asked everyone she met about the name of Ihurade, but each time they would mention the famous general and claim they knew nothing of his whereabouts or origins. She spent a month in the nearest city of Holbash, searching in vain for any information on her dead friend. It seemed that the man was just as shrouded in mystery as she was.

  The years of ignorance forced her to accept her new life, and Raia realised that she might never recover the truth of her origins, or the reason for her close glance with death. The kindness of the doctor and his wife came to mean far more to her than an extension of their characteristic generosity. She became the daughter they had been unable to conceive, and they became the parents she was unable to recall.

  As her fourth winter embraced the house, Raia pushed her feet into the legs of the trousers she preferred to run in, and pulled them up to her waist. She could not help but notice the upturned curve of the scar that ran raggedly around her navel. It looked very much like a smile, taunting her with the knowledge that she did not have. She ran a finger over its thickened surface, and to the edge that puckered slightly. She had, of course, seen far worse scars on the copper miners during her training, but there was no denying it was an ugly thing. It made her feel sad to touch it, as if it was the only part of her old life that had survived. It wasn’t the only remnant, though. The other was the tooth. It was suspended about her neck by a chain now, and she never took it off for fear that any chance of her memories returning would be lost with it.

  Raia threw on a shirt and fur-lined jacket, and made her way downstairs to the house’s main exit. The doctor was reading a letter in the entranceway, his shoulders shrugged against the cold. His face, though naturally wizened like the old trees of the plains, was unusually pale.

  “Is everything alright, Harlo?” She craned her neck in an attempt to read the contents of the missive.

  “I – yes. I’ve been called to The Fortress.”

  She fought to prevent her eyebrows from rising too far up her forehead. She had learned early on in her recovery that The Fortress was where the emperor lived. Don’t mention the colour. “Why?”

  “The emperor requires a physician, and has asked if I will perform this role for him and his daughter. He says I am to be awarded a commendation for my efforts here. Though I should say our efforts. Can you believe it, R?”

  “Of course I can.” She grinned broadly. “Will you go? Will you take us with you?”

  He seated himself on one of his curious contraptions: a boot-shiner by all appearances. Except it wasn’t, it performed an even less useful role than that. “Ah, I don’t know. I’m needed here... and Mag surely will not want to go.” He rubbed at his short beard. “I’m not sure what to do.”

  “But you have a team of doctors to take over from you now. Perhaps... I could stay while you go. I may not be-”

  “You are far from ready to practise alone, girl. You’re good, but not that good. Not yet. Besides, you could do with getting out of this place – see more of the world while you’re still young. Why don’t you go to the fortress, see a few of the sights, accept this damn award in my stead and then come back here when you’re done?”

  “What?! And tell Emperor Valyar that you have declined his invitation? He’ll bite my head off!” Raia already knew that the argument was lost. Harlo Colobrin was poor at accepting praise, and had an especially severe dislike of any sort of ceremony. Worse, she knew she was right about the emperor. Most reports spoke of his temper and grim attitude to anyone who wasn’t his beloved daughter.

  “He’s not his father, girl. And things are too hectic with the fire fever that’s going around at the moment. People will die if I leave now. I’ll write a letter of explanation for you to give him. Besides, I’ve seen how handy you are with those daggers. He’ll be no threat to you.”

  Presumably she’d been just as handy with her daggers when she had very nearly been killed by someone handier. She folded her arms as tightly as she could. “Then why don’t we wait until the plague has passed? Surely he will be insulted if you send a student who barely knows who she is?”

  “Because the ceremony is next month and, unless you have his travelling abilities, you won’t get there for a few weeks.”

  Raia unfolded her arms to place her hands firmly upon her hips. “Alright, fine! But don’t complain if you have to sew me together again when they send the pieces back.”

  The doctor chuckled quietly. “I’ll write something suitably apologetic and gracious for you to give to his highness. He can always transport himself over here to have a word with me in person.”

  She emitted a small guffaw. The whole idea of being able to think yourself into a new place was utterly ridiculous.

  “…Besides,” he continued, “they tend to employ underlings and administrators to actually touch common folk like you and I. I doubt you’ll get so mu
ch as a downward glance from the royalty.”

  It was as much as she could hope for, and perhaps he was right. It was time for her to leave the valley, and high time for her to renew exploring the mystery of Ihurade. Someone at the fortress had to have known about his family, even if they were all enemies.

  The doctor and his wife had already prepared a coachman for her when she returned from her run, and it sat before the grand doors in its vibrating metal casings. She had precious few belongings to pack for her journey, but took care to include the sword and ring of her fallen warrior. The fear still remained that he had been something more than a friend to her, and that she had not properly mourned the loss of whatever relationship they’d had. She pushed the guilt from her head and thrust together the entirety of her clothes. All items were functional, fluffy and warm.

  The last of her belongings to be packed were her knives. They’d been donated to her over the years by grateful miners with handy blacksmith friends, and each had its own signature flight on the air. Raia was not really sure when she had first recalled her affinity with blades and the knack of handling them, but they now seemed to her a sort of comfort. More so than the heavy drag of trying to wave Ihurade’s sword about. Had she been a fighter? Or was she one of the peaceful Šona, a people sworn against the use of violence? She could think of few other professions where running and cutting would be useful, or how else she had gained so many scars. It’s a better career to be in saving people now there’s peace, Colobrin had said to her. She smiled at the thought, and heaved her belongings onto her back.

  The doctor and his wife were waiting for her at the door, almost as if they were keen to see the back of her. But their puffy cheeks and glistening eyes told her otherwise; Raia found herself becoming similarly emotional. These people had given her far more than medical treatment and a home. “I shall see you both soon. I’ll miss you.” She hugged them both tightly.