Medieval Rain

by J. D. Sonne

  Rane waited impatiently as Scout and Saruah said their good-byes, short on the verbiage, long on the kissing, and finally when the two gave their horses their heads, they found that it didn’t take long at all before they arrived at the pipehouse. As they galloped past the shack, a prodigious flood of memories almost drowned Rane’s mind, and she wondered if Landman would ever see this path again, or if he would just exist as a distant shadow in her dreams.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “Where have you two been?” Titled Tollichet sounded more strident than Rane ever remembered. “And, Saruah’s mother is worried sick! No, Saruah! It is much too late for you to continue on to your lodge. I will send a runner to your Mother, so she knows you are safe! You Leads are in big trouble with us! Lying to us about this supposed sleepover! I should confine both of you to your lodges, with punishment!”

  Rane and Saruah had worked out their story to sound as plausible as possible and as they recounted the details to Tollichet, Rane’s mother seemed to calm down a bit. Their safe arrival seemed to deescalate the show of anger.

  “So, you see, mother,” Rane reasoned, “We are sorry that we lied about staying over at each other’s houses and that we shouldn’t have ventured into the forests , but it really isn’t our fault that the fallen trees blocked the bridle path! The safest path around the mess of wood took us many furlongs out of our way. We had to descend to the river bottom and make our way back around the ravines that led to the bluff. It took a long time! If it hadn’t, no one would have ever known we were gone!”

  “That does not excuse your behavior! And, I wish you would have been smart enough to have taken a virul with you Leads!” Tollichet said in irritation. “You could have sent him for help, or at least with a message.”

  “Mother, why do you think a virul could have made faster progress than the two best Leads in the sector?” Rane said. “If you had seen the extent of the destruction to the path, you would have understood. But, we are still sorry! We worried about worrying you! We know we shouldn’t have lied.”

  “As usual, you have entirely missed the point, for all your persuasive manipulations,” Tollichet said. “If you had encountered rebels or any situation where you were outnumbered--well, you are safe--that is the important thing! Not as important is that the wilding and execution are tomorrow and as you know, Rane, you are going to preside. They would have put it off, of course, but it would have been a very awkward situation to delay it after so much planning.”

  “That is why we rode very hard when we finally resumed the path. We did not want to disappoint everybody,” Rane said, but a cold rock invaded her stomach at the thought of the ceremony tomorrow. She had indeed forgotten it was so soon.

  Saruah actually gulped when Tollichet mentioned the wilding and execution. She had forgotten also, and Rane actually could see her tremble in fear. She didn’t blame Saruah in the least as that meant that they would have to put the plan in motion that very night, not many pours from this moment. She hoped her mother would not put undue vigilance over her because of their tardy arrival, but at least Saruah would be staying at their lodge tonight. That happenstance made the entire prospect have a better possibility of success, and Rane relaxed a bit.

  “Well, you must be tired!” Tollichet said. “Go up to bed. I will have squirrel prepare the guest room for Saruah.”

  “Mother,” Rane said. “I’m going to have squirrel just put the nice cot in my room so Saruah can sleep there. We want to have a true sleepover, now!”

  To her surprise her mother laughed and said, “Very funny, Rane! But you girls don’t stay up too late talking! It is late and I am about to snuff the torches. You’ll need your sleep. You have a big day tomorrow!”

  It was still a few pours until nightfall, so Rane and Saruah used the time to bathe in the bathhouse and change. After being out in the wilds for days, they felt rather rancid and craved clean water on their bodies. Luckily, they were about the same size, so Saruah easily fit into a spare pair of Rane’s buckskins. But, they did not change until they got up to Rane’s room, just wearing robes to ascend the stairs so as not to attract any suspicion. In fact, Rane was a little surprised that her mother didn’t assign a virul to stand at her door for the night to make sure she and Saruah didn’t try to embark on any more adventures.

  The Leads sat on Rane’s bed and talked softly waiting for night to fall. Interspersed with reviewing the steps of the plan were giggles about viruls, men, their men, their mothers, then darker subjects such as their mothers’ refusal to bond with their virul offspring, their brothers banished away from their estates, and the regular torture and murder of recalcitrant viruls. In fact, so engrossed in this discussion were they that they wasted several precious pours of darkness before they opened the door of the bedroom to venture out into the hall to escape the house.

  After cautiously exiting the kitchen door, Rane cradled the latch into silence. Careful to walk on the soft undergrowth of lawn at the edge of the graveled paths on the way to the pipehouse for their rendezvous with Scout and the others, Rane and Saruah crept along quietly until the pipehouse was in view—

  “Lead Rane and Lead Saruah!” The voice said in a whine. “You must come back to the house!”

  Rane stopped and sighed. So, mother had put squirrel on them—damn! In an instant, she was upon him and dragged him off the path into the underbrush, her hand clapped firmly over his mouth. Saruah crouched nearby, her mouth set in a grim line.

  “Squirrel. I have to kill you now, and because you have been a faithful, though annoying virul, I will tell you why. Saruah, here, and I are about to attempt a rescue on Titled Larad’s estate. And this is the strange thing, it is because I am in love with one of those viruls that she has in her prison. So, you can see why we cannot come back with you, and since you would be pretty worthless in a mission such as this, you cannot come with us. And, since you have such a big mouth, I cannot trust you to keep our secret if I let you go.”

  Rane was about to twist his neck when Saruah put a restraining hand on her arm. “Wait,” she said softly and put her mouth next to squirrel’s ear. “Squirrel, do you want to save your life?”

  For the first time, Rane noticed how quiet squirrel had been throughout this entire exchange. Her prior knowledge of him would have him squirming amid a blizzard of tears, but his strange silence confused her a bit, so she decided to allow Saruah to direct the situation.

  “Squirrel, do you remember that talk we had about viruls all those months ago?” Saruah asked softly.

  At his nod, she went on, “You said some very strange things, and I didn’t understand, but now I do—for you see, I am in love with a virul, too.

  Squirrel and Saruah had a conversation? And about love? What was this? But Saruah went on and Rane had to strain to hear the whispers.

  “—and you said that you felt that you would die er than lose the chance for Lead Lath’s love—”

  “Lead Lath—“Rane said, almost breaking her whisper in her shock at such a revelation, but too well trained to do so.

  Saruah’s wilting look forced Rane into silence, and she continued with nary a pause “—and that you would do anything to love her and give her children, but that you wanted to have that relationship as an equal. I am ashamed that I laughed at you. But now, I know. I know, squirrel.”

  Saruah stopped and nodded at squirrel, who blinked. Then Saruah said, “You can take your hand away, Rane.”

  Rane screamed inwardly, but did as she was told and was surprised when squirrel kept his silence. “I will help you,” was all he whispered, tears in his eyes.

  “Good,” Saruah said, and stood. “Now, be silent and do exactly as you’re told, or I will have Lead Rane here make good with her intention to snap your neck!”

  As Rane watched squirrel rise and push aside the stumpy undergrowth to get back on the path, she was absolutely burning for information about this “talk” between her house virul and her best friend. Since such a discussion w
as impossible at this moment, she put it from her mind after vowing to retrieve the subject later, provided they survived. But she had to say something.

  “I’m not sure about this,” Rane whispered to Saruah as squirrel paced ahead. “Why do you trust him? I mean, I know you think the two of you have a little relationship, but the success of the rescue—”

  “—will go better if we have a known virul as part of our plan. Think, Rane! He can go ahead of us and, well, rather than us sneaking in, as the plan goes, why not have him bring a message from our mother to Titled Larad?”

  “I do not want Titled Larad anywhere around us as we try to get them out!” Rane protested.

  “Of course not,” Saruah hissed. “Watergods, you are dense for such a brilliant Lead! No, squirrel will relay a message to the guards from Titled Tollichet and Titled Larad that they—well—”

  “Go on!” Rane hissed back, alarmed at Saruah’s hesitation. “Tell me about this inspired plan!”

  “Let me think,” Saruah said and did that, but only for a moment, and brightly went on. “This is even better than I thought. We will tell the guards that the Titleds want to meet with them for a few moments to work out a few more details regarding the wilding and execution. We won’t be able to get all of the guards away, but at least we can thin them out a little. That will give us a better chance to overpower them.”

  “Don’t you think that every detail about the wilding and execution will have been worked out by now? And that all those Leads will know that?” Rane protested.

  “There are always stray details that need to be worked out for any event!” Saruah said, rushing away from Rane. “And, you know it!”

  Saruah caught up with squirrel and as the two put their heads together, Saruah explaining, squirrel listening, Rane had to admit to herself that squirrel’s addition to their rescue party could be fortuitous, but only if he didn’t give them away. And, for all of Saruah’s reassurance, that was a big “if.” Well, it was too late now, for squirrel was ambling toward the pipehouse even now, a few troughlengths ahead of them. Rane decided that she would watch him very carefully, and at the first sign of treachery, she would follow through on her original plan to kill him.

  The three kept to the sides of the path, pressing themselves against the foliage that walled the way so that they could conceal themselves at the first sign of hiker or rider. They encountered no one until they arrived at the pipehouse. Saruah whistled the low tremolo of an archeraptor, and they waited.

  Relief filled Rane when the answer came back to them from the dark bushes on the other side of the pipehouse and Scout, Shad, Winsla, Baru and the others emerged, crouching lightly.

  “This way,” Rane said, shrugging one shoulder in the direction of Larad’s estate. They would have to cross two other estates to get to the prison house, and Rane thought hard. Were any night harvests going on right now? If there were, then those estates would be crawling with farm viruls bringing in the crop of moon wheat that became ripe this time of year. She whispered her concern to Saruah, who in turn assured her that the harvest was well past.

  “Well, still. We must be quiet. All of you! No talking at all! And, keep your breathing low,” Rane admonished. “I will head the way. Any communication will be by hand signal only!”

  “Who is this?” Scout said, pointing to squirrel. “Why is he here?”

  Squirrel opened his mouth to reply, undoubtedly some kind of rude rejoinder, until he saw Rane’s face, and his mouth popped shut.

  “He is going to get us into the prison house,” Rane said simply. “He is my personal house virul, and,” she looked at squirrel for a moment and went on, “he wants to help us, and I trust him.” As she said the words, she found that she believed them.

  Scout grumbled a bit, then gestured toward the direction of Larad’s estate with a shrug, which Rane obeyed, starting off with a finger to her lips as a last reminder.

  Outlying the manicured estates, tall grasses impeded their progress, their stalks making a shushing sound against their breeches, the sounds lifting into the silent night around them. Rane cursed the high grass, but at the same time was grateful that they were not having to slog through marshland that was so common to their world. This was unpleasant and difficult, but at least they were dry.

  Encountering the first fence of the Woodhorn estate next to Rane’s own, the group edged underneath a breach caused by an extreme in run-off from the bluffs to the west. The Woodhorns were not as meticulous in managing the waters as was her mother or even Titled Larad and it showed in the poor upkeep of the berms round about the boundaries of their property. It made for uneasy footfalls though their fields and the group found their quota of marshland through many areas of this estate. After many troughlengths of treacherous going, they finally came to the Fallwater estate, a beautiful swath of lush lawn and trees dripping with leaves, fronds and fruit, without the excess of swamp. Rane had visited this estate many times and her heart always warmed with awe at the incredible gardens and tamed overgrowth that festooned throughout their glorious wilderness. That was the key, to make your lands seem wild under their domesticity. Not many on Maraquan excelled at this dichotomy like the Fallwaters, and Rane decided that the beauty of the place must fare best under sunlight, for now the grounds seemed frightening and wicked, the outstretched bony arms of the trees grasping at the little party of would-be rescuers.

  In the distance, the Fallwater lodge’s windows flickered with light, forming eyes, nose and mouth of a ghoulish face that seemed to follow them for many troughlengths. The group hurried along, wishing to get away from the effect of the glowing phantasm. Finally, they came to the borders of Titled Larad’s estate, the iron grates of the fence piking up from the innocent, lush grass that eddied up against the metal ferocity.

  As they were under silence, no one asked the obvious question; nevertheless, they walked up and down the metal boundary seeking an entrance, but unlike the shabby Woodhorns, Titled Larad took the stewardship of her property very seriously. A fence two troughlengths high seemed extreme to Rane, but many things about Titled Larad were extreme, this barrier perhaps a harbinger of the dangers that lay beyond it. She hoped not.

  Rane felt rather stupid for not thinking about the unscalable fence, until she remembered the sluicegate. Every property had access to water, of course, and that meant a sluicegate accompanied every territorial plan. These gates ranged from a simple ditch with a rickety wooden slab as a stopwater to opulent concrete washways with ornate and centered sluicegates that used an elaborate cog and pulley system for raising and lowering. Luckily, there was no system too elaborate for Rane to manage, and she was quite familiar with this particular sluicegate, having been assigned to dredge it as part of her apprenticeship for the waterwork.

  Apart from Rane, the group, craning their necks disconsolately at the impossible ironwork in front of them, alternated between peering between the grates to catching their breath with hands on knees, supporting their wheezing upper bodies. Rane caught the eye of Saruah and beckoned her, mouthing “sluicegate” and pointing to the southwestern corner of the property. Saruah happily mimicked Rane’s motions and soon the little band was trudging after Rane, the rising moons’ light casting their features in an amber haze against night’s backdrop.

  Only a faint trickle to their ears at first, the rushing water of the sluice soon assaulted their ears with a terrific volume, and Rane blessed the noise, a welcome cachinnate that would keep their intrusion covert.

  One by one, they swung underneath the fence that ran over the sluicegate, having to use their hands and legs looped through the bottom iron rung of the foundation grate. It turned out to be much more difficult than it looked, requiring a brute upper body strength that seemed beyond most of the group, but once Rane and then Saruah demonstrated the hand, knee and ankle holds, spotting those that got into trouble with gravity, all of them got across. There were some nasty bungs and bruises to be sure, but luckily no broken bones.

&nb
sp; They had to rest after that exertion, and Rane even had to tear some of her undershirt into a wrap to pressurize a bad laceration on Winsla’s shin. Finally, after an inventory of a few other minor injuries, they began the approach to the prison house.

  There was a large hedge that served as a windbreak behind the cube-like structure, and they spread themselves over the ground behind the wall of leaves. This was where Rane was to begin her approach on the two Lead guards that now stood as sentinels outside the prison house and lure them away, but with squirrel’s addition to the party, he could perform that leg of the plan, sparing Rane to help with the actual rescue. However, if squirrel were lying about his willingness to take part, this is where disaster could truly dismantle their plan. Rane looked over at squirrel and nodded, her eyebrows raised. The eager confidence in his eyes banished any residual doubt, and she motioned for him to go.

  Saruah sidled up to Rane and whispered, “Squirrel thought he could draw more than just the two guards. When I first explained his part in the plan, he said he could probably get almost all of them to follow him to the lodge. He said he was very persuasive.”

  “Yes,” Rane murmured, “annoyingly so. Well, let us see what he can do.”

  “He also said that he would be able to get away by just escorting them to the house and running back to us. Or did you not worry about him?”

  “Of course, I did,” Rane said with the hesitation of a lie. “I knew he could take care of himself.”

  “Rane!” Saruah said, observing the pause. “I hope you remember how much he is risking for us. If they catch him, a wilding and execution will seem like a child’s game compared with what Titled Larad will do to him in that building.”

  “Don’t tell me how to deal with my virul,” Rane said in irritation.

  “I just think you should treat him with a little more respect,” Saruah said, nonplussed. “As an equal.”