by Kevin Brooks
I got it then.
I knew what he was doing. I knew why he was there.
As he straightened up and turned around, looking to see where the fat woman was, I focused the binoculars on the area of hardpacked dirt ground where the guard had originally been standing. It took a few moments, but eventually I saw what I was looking for – a heavy metal ring, about 4 inches in diameter, lying flat on the ground. It looked at first as if it was fixed into the ground, but as I studied the area around the ring I could just make out the outline of what it was actually attached to – a wooden hatch set in the ground. It was so well camouflaged, exactly the same color as the dirt, that it was almost impossible to see, but from what I could tell it was about 5 feet long and 4 feet wide. It obviously led to something under the ground – a bunker or a tunnel perhaps – that for some reason needed guarding, and it was equally obvious that there was someone down there who the guard was trying to communicate with. I couldnt work out who it might be, and I didnt understand why the sentry was so fearful of the fat woman, but as she stopped in front of the hatch, and the guard stepped forward to meet her, I had a feeling I was about to find out.
It was immediately clear that the fat woman was the guards superior, and I could tell from the way she just stood there, barely even acknowledging his presence, that she was expecting him to do something – presumably open the hatch for her – and that she was expecting him to do it without delay and without being asked. When he didnt, but instead started talking to her – apologetically trying to explain something – she gave him such a withering glare that he immediately stopped speaking, his mouth hanging open, and just stood there, visibly shaken to the core. The fat woman barked an instruction at him, impatiently jabbing her spear in the direction of the hatch – OPEN IT! NOW! – and this time he didnt hesitate for a second. Whatever it was he was trying to hide from the fat woman, he knew the game was up. He scurried over to the hatch – keeping his head down and his eyes fixed to the ground – and stooped down to reach for the metal ring. Just as he was about to get hold of it though, the hatch began to open. The guard quickly stepped to the side, moving out of the way, and the hatch opened up and a disheveled-looking man climbed out. His shirt was unbuttoned, his belt unbuckled, and he was breathing heavily and soaked in sweat. Blood was streaming from several deep scratches on the side of his face, and as he straightened up – stumbling slightly – I saw that he was carrying a large metal key in his hand. He seemed confused and disorientated – looking around, frowning and squinting, shielding his eyes from the sun. He saw the guard, started to hand the key to him, then froze – his eyes wide with fear – as he suddenly spotted the fat woman. She just stood there for a few seconds, staring impassively at him, then she slowly held out her hand. The man hesitated for a second, darting a glance at the guard, then he shuffled warily over to the woman – cowering away from her, as if he expected her to hit him any moment – and carefully placed the key in her hand. She nodded at him, her face quite calm, and he cautiously began to relax a little. I could see the relief in his eyes. She hadnt hit him. She didnt even seem that angry with him. Encouraged, he allowed himself the smallest of smiles, and with a casual shrug of apology – and a glint of amusement in his eye – he opened his mouth and began to say something.
The fat woman moved so fast that I barely saw it, swinging her spear up and round then hammering the blunt end into the mans head, all in one lightning-quick movement. He never saw it coming, and she hit him so hard that his legs instantly buckled and he slumped to his knees. Then, as he knelt there cradling his bloodied head, she stepped over, brought back her foot and – putting all her considerable weight into it – booted him hard in his groin. He doubled over in agony, curling up into a ball, and I could see he was struggling to breathe. The fat woman bent over him then, and as she put the blade of her spear to the underside of his chin, I saw her say something to him. There was no emotion in her face. She didnt shout or scream. She just spoke to him – calmly and quietly – in what I imagined was an icy whisper.
The man just stared at her, frozen in terror.
She dug the blade of her spear into his chin, drawing blood, and I saw his lips move as he whimpered in response. She forced him to his feet, keeping the spear pressed into his skin until he was standing up straight, then she took the spear away, spun it round in her hand, and raised it over her shoulder, as if to hit him with the blunt end again. But this time she paused for a moment, giving the man the chance to turn and run, and he took it without hesitation, running off as fast as he could, hobbling and bent over in pain.
The fat woman turned to the guard then. Hede moved back while she was dealing with the other man, and was standing about 10 yards away from her now – his face drained of color, his eyes wide. The fat woman didnt say anything to him. She didnt have to. It was perfectly clear from the look she gave him that she held him responsible for letting the other man do whatever hede done, and that he was going to pay the price for it. But not just yet. Right now, she had more important things to do. She turned away from him and waddled over to the open hatchway.
Before she started climbing down, I quickly focused the binoculars on the basket she was carrying. I didnt have time to identify all the contents, but I clearly saw a chunk of dark bread, an earthenware bottle, and a hairbrush, and just before I lost sight of her I caught a brief glimpse of something pink – a piece of cloth perhaps, or maybe an item of clothing---
And then the fat woman was gone, squeezing her huge frame through the hatchway and disappearing under the ground.
She was down there for some time, so while I waited for her to come out again, I had plenty of time to think about what had just happened and what it might mean. There was no way of knowing for sure, but if I accepted that Chola Se was being held prisoner down there, then it wasnt that difficult to work out a fairly reasonable explanation of everything Ide just seen.
The guard had been told that only certain authorized people were allowed to visit the prisoner, and his orders were to make absolutely sure that everyone else was kept out. But for some reason hede disobeyed those orders and let the other man in. Perhaps hede been bribed, or threatened, or the other man was a friend of his, or his brother or something. Whatever the reason, hede let him go down there to do what he wanted with Chola Se. It was clear from the state of him when hede come out that shede tried to fight him off – and because shese a dogchild I knew she would have fought like a demon – but she was probably tied up or shackled to at least some degree, and the man was much bigger and stronger than her, so I couldnt be sure whether hede overcome her or not before hede been interrupted.
As for the fat woman, she was obviously a figure of some authority, but I doubted if she was of any great importance. If she was, she wouldnt have been tasked with giving food and drink to a prisoner. It was possible she was doing more than just that – Ide know more when she came out – but even so, she was still just carrying out orders.
An image came into my mind then – the fat woman forcibly brushing Chola Ses hair, forcing her at spear point to put on a pink dress---
I blanked the picture from my mind.
It was too sickening to imagine.
When the fat woman finally came out, the bread and the pink cloth (pink dress?) were no longer in her basket, but the hairbrush and the earthenware bottle were still there. I watched her as she waddled back across the courtyard to the fort, then I lowered the glasses, waited for the rage to leave my heart, and went to see Gun Sur.
Gun Sur and Pilgrim were standing together at the open window when I entered the Marshals office, both of them gazing out at the Square. Although it was only a few hours since Ide last seen Gun Sur, he looked a lot more tired now – leaning on the windowsill for support as if he was carrying a great weight on his back – and as he turned to face me, and I saw the exhaustion in his troubled eyes, I couldnt help wondering if age was finally catching up with him. He was an old man now – almost 40 – and seeing him t
his close up made me realize that he was beginning to show it.
Pilgrim, on the other hand, didnt looked worried or tired at all. In fact, if anything, he seemed even more energized than usual.
Gun Sur walked wearily over to the oak table, gesturing for me to join him. I went over to the table, waited for him to sit, then sat down opposite him.
Have you heard? he asked me.
Heard what?
He sighed heavily, then glanced at Pilgrim. You tell him, he said.
Pilgrim came over and perched himself on the edge of the table.
We know who killed Aliaj and Berch and took Chola Se and the babies, he told me. It was one of our own. A Fighter called Yael.
Yael? I said, astonished.
I know, Pilgrim said, shaking his head. I couldnt believe it myself at first. Ive always considered Yael to be one of our very best. Even when he was a Younger I thought he had it in him to be a Captain one day. But Ime afraid the evidence against him is overwhelming. He took Chola Se and the babies and he gave them to the Dau.
Why would he do that?
Pilgrim shrugged. Who knows? Hese still being interrogated at the moment, and so far hese maintaining his innocence. But wele get the truth out of him eventually.
But how could he have done it? I said. How could he have got them out of town without being seen? It doesnt make sense. Was there a breach in the wall somewhere?
Yael was on guard in the West End Tower last night, Pilgrim explained. We think he probably left the tower around 2 or 3 in the morning, killed Aliaj and Berch and took their babies, then broke into Chola Ses house and abducted her.
She wouldnt have just let him take her, I said. Shese a dogchild. She would have fought and screamed and howled —
Yaels a trained Fighter.
I know, but —
Hese one of the best Ive ever known, Pilgrim added. Maybe even the best of all. Trust me, I know what Ime talking about. Yael could have broken into Chola Ses house and incapacitated her while she slept and she wouldnt have known a thing.
I still found that almost impossible to believe, but there was a look in Pilgrims eyes that made me think it was best not to argue any further, so I kept my doubts to myself and let him carry on.
As far as we can tell, he continued, Yael went back to the watchtower with Chola Se and the babies, climbed to the top, tied them to a rope, then lowered them to the ground. We dont know if the Dau were waiting at the foot of the tower, or if they were farther away, perhaps at the far end of the woodland---in which case Yael would have had to climb down the rope himself, take Chola Se and the babies to the Dau, then return to the tower and climb back up---Pilgrim shrugged. It wouldnt have been too difficult, especially for someone as capable as Yael.
I glanced at Gun Sur – he was leaning back in his chair, his head bowed down, his eyes closed – then I looked back at Pilgrim again.
How do you know all this? I asked him. Did someone see Yael with Chola Se and the babies?
Pilgrim shook his head. We dont have any witnesses so far, but theres more than enough evidence to prove it was Yael. We found a bloodstained shirt and a hood hidden away in the cellar of his house, and his footprints were tracked from the watchtower to Aliaj and Berchs house, then across to Chola Ses, and back to the tower again. We also found some colored beads both in the turret and on the ground directly below the tower. And as you probably know, Chola Se always wore a necklace of colored stone beads.
In an instant my world was turned upside down. My initial belief that none of this made sense, that Yael couldnt possibly have done it, had suddenly been shattered. If Pilgrim was right about the colored beads – and I couldnt see how he could be making it up – then that changed everything. It meant that Chola Se had been in the watchtower, and that she had been lowered to the ground, just as Pilgrim had said. And if that was the case, who else could have been responsible other than Yael?
Whats he saying? I asked Pilgrim.
Yael?
I nodded.
He says he cant remember anything. He claims that he went on duty as usual, and that at some point during the night he woke up and realized that he must have fallen asleep, but that he doesnt remember anything about it. He says its as if theres a big black hole where his memory should be. Pilgrim grinned. Its not exactly convincing, is it?
He was right, it wasnt convincing---and that didnt make sense either. If Yael was guilty, why would he come up with such a scarcely believable explanation? He wasnt stupid. He must have known how feeble it sounded. Why hadnt he come up with a better story?
Unless, of course---
So, Gun Sur said, interrupting my thoughts. Have you got an answer for me?
Sorry? I said, momentarily confused.
The red-roofed building, he said, slightly impatiently. The question I left you with this morning. Have you come up with an answer or not?
I paused for a few seconds to get my thoughts in order – switching my mind from Yael to Gun Surs question – then I looked directly at the Marshal.
Can I ask you a couple of questions first? I said to him.
A couple?
2.
Are they relevant to your answer?
Yes.
All right, go ahead.
Is it true that the Dau have nightvision spyglasses?
He nodded. We know for sure that they have a pair of binoculars and 2 rifle scopes with nightvision capability, but its quite possible they have more. Whats your second question?
Is the old animal burrow that goes under the wall still there?
Gun Sur just stared at me for a moment, and I could tell he was deciding whether to answer me or not. But I already knew the answer now. The mere fact that hede had to think about it meant the tunnel was there.
Gun Sur glanced at Pilgrim, then looked back at me and nodded. We were going to fill it in, he told me, but we realized that it might come in useful one day, so we decided to keep it. As long as we could make it absolutely secure – out of sight of the Dau and only accessible to us – it gave us a way in and out of town that the Dau didnt know about, and it also provided an emergency exit should we ever need one. Its had quite a lot of work done on it over the years – we widened it to make it easier to use, added supports to make sure it doesnt collapse, and both ends have been secured with camouflaged cast-iron doors---
Does Yael know its there?
He nodded. All the Fighters know.
So why didnt he use it to get Chola Se and the babies out?
Is that relevant?
It might be, depending on the answer.
Gun Sur sighed. We dont post guards directly outside the townside entrance to the tunnel – because if we did, it would be obvious to everyone, including the Dau, that somethings there – but we always have at least 2 Fighters posted on the streets within sight of the entrance so that no one can get to it without being seen. So the only way Yael could have used the tunnel to get out was by killing both Fighters, and that would have been too much of a risk. And also, he didnt need to use the tunnel, because he didnt have to get out of town without being seen by the Dau. They were expecting him.
Gun Sur stopped speaking for a second and gave me a stern look.
Right, he said. No more questions. All I want from you now is an answer. Can you get to the red-roofed building in the Dau camp and get what we need or not?
Yes, I told him. I can do it.
I knew when Ide come up with the plan that it was far from flawless, but as I began explaining it to Gun Sur and Pilgrim, the process of putting it into words made me realize that it was even more full of holes than Ide thought. The only really positive thing about it was its simplicity.
My plan, in essence, was to leave the town by way of the tunnel and get to the Dau encampment without being seen by using a pack of Deathland dogs as cover. Although the dogs werent such a common sight now as they had been in the past – mainly because theyd learned over the years that it was best to keep away from humans – i
t still wasnt unusual to see packs of Deathland dogs crossing the distant plains. As long as they kept out of rifle range, which they nearly always did, neither our people nor the Dau paid them much attention. So the way I saw it, if I could make the journey across the Deathlands with a pack of dogs, rather than on my own, it wouldnt matter if the Dau guards spotted us – wede just be another pack of Deathland dogs---nothing unusual, nothing to worry about. Wede have to get a bit closer to the camp than the dogs usually did – in order to allow me to get to the relatively rugged terrain near the perimeter – so the Dau guards would probably start paying us a little more attention than usual, but I doubted if theyd be concerned enough to raise the alarm. And once Ide found cover, the dogs could leave me and head back into the distance again, and the Dau guards would hopefully relax.
It was at this point in my explanation that Gun Sur began asking me questions.
How do you know the dogs will help us? he said.
They wont help us, theyle help me.
All right then – how do you know theyle help you?
I dont, I admitted. But if my mothers still alive —
Your mother?
My dogmother. The one who raised me. She wasnt with us when you killed the rest of my pack. If shese still alive, and I can get in touch with her, I think shele agree to help me.
Youle need more than just her to help you.
She wont be alone.
She wont be anything, Pilgrim said bluntly. Shele be a pile of bones by now.
Youre probably right, I said, ignoring his disrespect. But that doesnt mean its not worth trying, does it?
He just shrugged.
And what if shese not alive or you cant get in touch with her? Gun Sur said.
