“I think there’s enough for most, if not all, of the miners.” Eshezy stated, looking at the extensive pile.
Basrillene picked up one of the many sheathed weapons and almost dropped it as the full weight impacted him. He looked embarrassed by the difference in his strength compared to the burly Travakane and Harthangan and tried to use two hands to swing the sword.
“I have something else in mind for you.” Eshezy spoke hastily, wanting to minimise the sense of inadequacy he was discovering before it dented his confidence. He must continue to lead the townspeople; they need someone more like them than the older and tougher miners. She got him to put the sword back on the stack and took him over to the thicket of bows.
“The best way to stop a swordsman is to cut him down before he gets close enough to do any harm.” Eshezy knew no one would argue with this; repeatedly she had demonstrated the truth of this maxim, mostly with deadly effect. She picked up the topmost bow and reached for a length of twine hanging on a wooden peg located on one of the many pillars which helped segregate the sections of the armoury. “Here, this is how you ‘string’ it.” She showed him how to attach one end, how to flex the bow and slip the other end into place at the same time. “Now you must hold it like this.” She stood close beside him, demonstrated the stance and then passed the bow to him. It’s a bit shorter and quite a lot easier to pull than mine, I think.
He tried to imitate her posture and pulled back on the bow, finding the tension to quickly become very high – the inevitable consequence being a great limiting of the flexing he had hoped to exhibit.
“Don’t worry, that will come, if you practice daily.”
He looked at her and nodded, as if afraid to speak, as she was still right beside him and this seemed to be making him incredibly tense.
Eshezy noted this, turned to Gefforen and placed a hand hastily on an available shoulder as another of her intuitive moments occurred. Gefforen waited, sure something good would come of it, and she did not have to wait long.
“We’ll come back here and organise kitting out our defenders with all that they need, but first we’ll check out a place specially made for weapons training: your ‘practice room’.” Eshezy made sure Basrillene brought his new bow and found that Travakane and Harthangan needed no encouragement to bring their newly acquired swords along, although they looked awkward as they put their obsolete ‘soldier gear’ in a vacant corner.
Once out of the Armoury, she led them through the great hall and to the kitchen area. There, under the staircase, where previously there had been a panelled but otherwise blank wall, there was now a simple interior door with a rounded wooden doorknob. Of course, it looked completely ordinary, almost like a cupboard door, but more importantly it was what Eshezy had been expecting to find there since her momentary dizziness. Eshezy pulled the door open and started down the stairs, confident the others would follow her. The gloom seemed to reach a maximum as she stepped off the bottom stair onto the stone flags and the door at the top swung closed behind the others. She stepped forwards two paces, opened the lower door and walked through, finding a faint glow illuminating the space beyond. She stopped, baffled by what she saw. This is not a place for weapons training!
Before her, just a few feet from where she stood, was a tall, thin wooden panel. To its left there was another, but because of her perspective standing oblique to it, she could see that behind it there were a series of horizontal boards, each one a little more than a foot above or below the ones close to it. She could see that something with regular vertical stripes filled the spaces between each of these shelves, though the gloom made it impossible to determine any details from where she was located. The others stepped into this area, and again, the door closed gently behind the last one.
Eshezy looked around and saw the puzzled expressions on her council. Immediately she tried to mask her own surprise, but Gefforen, who was closest on her right side, noticed. No words passed between them and Gefforen seemed interested but not concerned to have picked up on this development. Eshezy took a deep breath and stepped forwards to check out the mystery at closer quarters. As she did so, the entire area seemed to burst into a blue fire, though in fact the glow was not hot, and seemed to come from every vertical surface. The increased illumination seemed to trigger something in her mind as well as reveal the details of the shelves and their contents more clearly. At least now I can see well enough to determine what this is… if I can recall.
She put her hand out and touched a few of the objects on a nearby shelf. They were at chest height – for her – and now she could see that the stripes were not a decoration on one continuous item, but the boundaries of a whole series of inch-wide, slightly curve-ended slabs with raised edges stretching back into the still slightly dimmer under-hang. Moving her hand along the tops, touching and choosing one near to her, she pulled it out from the long row of similar slabs and found it moved easily towards her across the smooth shelf. Once out, she took it in both hands and held it with the curved end-piece in her left hand. The others gathered around her, waiting in great anticipation to see what this device would do. Her right hand found that both the now upper and lower edges of the slab were raised or extended beyond the rest of the object, and that the recessed material between these two outer surfaces was slick against her right-hand fingertips and coated with a golden sheen. Aaaaah…so familiar!
She slid her right hand beneath the object and used her left to lift the upmost surface from the right edge; it rose as if hinged at the left, exposing a further smooth, flat area, except that this area was patterned with a myriad of small brown shapes, evenly placed across the otherwise creamy-white surface in neat rows. Looking at the still-puzzled faces surrounding her, she smiled. “This is a practice area, or more properly, a training area. I’ll explain.” Looking again at their baffled expressions and the complex patterns she had revealed, she reconsidered her start point and put the first thing she had selected back. “Let me find a thinner one. I think…” She pulled out another from a lower storage shelf, one with a curved-ended slab less than half as wide as the first one. Laying it on her hand, she opened it as she had the first. “Ha! See, my friends, a picture! And not just any picture, either!” Oh, I hope this means I will see you again soon, my furry advisor!
Basrillene leaned in close, observing the image of a sitting cat imposed on the flat area beneath the raised cover, quite similar in appearance to Rauffaely. “Such detail! Sehnarah would like to see that!”
“We shall invite her, in a moment.” Eshezy realised that the person he referred to was the girl who had tried to organise or catalogue the supplies in the Fortress storerooms by drawing pictures of them on the wall of the drinks pantry. “But first I must explain what these things are.” She paused to think, hoping that the terminology she once knew would resurface from the depths of her mind, or from her Benefactor. Oh, She! Must I? … Oh, I’m sorry; I can manage…
“This device is a means of recording, like Sehnarah was creating on the wall in the room where the apple drinks are kept.” She carefully raised the pictured surface, revealing that it was thinner than the finest bark, and unlike the outer parts of the device, very flexible. Beneath, on the next layer, there was another picture, this time of two cats, both sitting and staring back at them, though one of them was much darker furred than the other. Raising the next thin sheet, Eshezy noticed a small area of the brown shapes she had found in the first object, beneath a picture of three cats. She flipped back and found there were other, similar shapes below the first two pictures. Hmm… were they there a moment ago, or did they just appear? Oh, no matter… I just love what She has done for us – to have all the wonders in these, these … things, and of course to find Rauffaely in here! I can’t tell them – they must find out for themselves, but I know, really know, ‘She’ does have a sense of humour!
“This place is full of the wisdom of ‘She’. Later, I will show you how to use it.” And I must learn too, as, though it seems
very familiar, I cannot decipher the shapes below the pictures any more than my one-time Neechaallites can. “But first, I must show you the place where you can practice with the bow and with the sword, as I said I would.’ Eshezy put the volume containing cat pictures under her arm and led them to the left, passing row after row of similar ‘recording devices’ on shelves ranging in height from just above the stone-covered ground to the level of her head. She figured there were enough to make this a collection of thousands, some of which were thicker than the first one she had examined, some taller, too. The light, she realised, was from a moss-like wall coating which seemed much more effective than the miners’ transplanted and limited tunnel illumination. Of course, ‘She’ would be much better at making it work than mere mortals – and figuring out how to change the illumination level instantly like a… like a… She shook her head minutely as this tantalising concept hovered on the edge of her consciousness and then retreated into the shadows. As they walked through the huge room, Eshezy noted that it was as large as the entire ground floor of her original home and that the rows of storage units were divided by curved pillars similar to the ones in the armoury, though slightly thicker in this case, presumably because they were holding up the weight of the two floors above. At the other end of the stairs, she found the further downward flight she expected, though there was no door at the top, just bannisters, somewhat like the ones outside her bedroom, but without the fancy curves and waves.
Stepping onto the first step she found it was also solid stone and much wider than the previous flight of wooden ones, with a much gentler slope of descent – which somehow seemed right – though something about the shape still surprised her. As she descended, savouring the sound of her soft leather boots contacting the smooth stone, she realised what it was – the style of construction reminded her of places she had been in before, but each step was level, square-cut, with no sign of a central, worn-down area… That’s it – this is like a building or perhaps many buildings I knew, before Terraless, but those were all old, really old, and the steps showed the passage of thousands of feet, over hundreds of years!
As she neared the bottom, the light from the moss seemed to increase and she realised the staircase was widening, too. The stonework was now above her, as well as below and beside, and the impression of slumbering strength was subtly reassuring to her. The door at the bottom was massive – as big as the front door to her Fortress – and built with huge hunks of precisely hewn wood, interlocked and decorated with brassy overlaid panels and bronzy metal bars. The door handle was an ornate and intricate brass one and the mechanism worked semi-recessed bolts which retracted without a squeak.
Eshezy stepped through into the inevitable gloom, confident that the light would increase as she entered. “This is what will help you prepare for the coming onslaught.” The others followed her through, the door swung silently into place, shutting out all light. Eshezy waited. Surely there’s nothing else I need do! Nothing happened.
“Eshezy. This is not… what I mean is…” Travakane’s voice sounded more than a little frustrated and there was also a hint of impatience, as the volumes of pictures and patterns in the huge room above had seemed completely useless to him and the idea of a space below ground full of blackness held no novelty for him at all.
“Basrillene, could you pass me your bow.” There was some fumbling behind her and then a hand to her left pressed the long wooden curve against her arm. That was Harthangan, I think… Eshezy took the bow, passed the cat reference volume back in return and stepped forward a foot or so. I must have room to do this. She reached back and selected an arrow from her seemingly ever-present quiver. Placing it appropriately was not a problem for her, she realised she could do it with her eyes closed. But where to shoot? A shot in the dark? So be it. She pulled back, finding, as she had previously thought, that the bow was a slightly easier pull than her own, and then savoured the sound as the arrow left her, slicing through the darkness. A moment later, or perhaps two, and there was a ringing sound like that from a fallen or dislodged bell, followed imperceptibly by a thud. Ah! The glow she had hoped for started to develop, like her imperfect recollection of the rising of the world’s light source from before her arrival in Terraless and she shivered as the room seemed to materialise around her. There were innumerable, massive columns of curved stone, vaulted stone-bulwarked ceilings between them, and ahead of her a long passageway stretched, with alternating sets of columns and higher ceilinged areas between the cross-pieces of carved stone. What really caught her attention, though, was the figure at the far end – perhaps fifty yards from her – dressed in armour, exactly like that in her storeroom of weaponry. The figure did not move. Ah! I love it! She smiled as she walked down the target range. “Now, what do you think of that?”
Basrillene, concerned about the use of the bow he already felt was for him alone, stepped past her, closer to the object of interest, and looked at the figure before him. There was only a rudimentary representation of a head at the top, though it was crowned with a helmet, but what drew everyone’s attention was the centre of the breastplate on the roughly framed target. It was decorated with a feathered tuft. He looked behind the breastplate and found the wooden panel where the arrow had impacted. “I don’t think I’ll bother with armour.”
Travakane whacked him on the shoulder, making him wince. “No worries… Just make sure you fire first.”
“Ha! Good advice.” This brought some laughter from Harthangan, as he stepped to the right and evaluated the penetrating power of the longbow for himself.
Eshezy made sure that Gefforen was still nearby and looked around, through the archways to each side of the target line. She stepped through and looked along the length – there was another target, though this one was a more mundane, rounded section of wood, as if it had been taken from the lower part of the trunk of a massive tree. “I think this will allow many to learn the skill of the bow and arrow – though you, Basrillene, will be the first. Let’s walk back to the stair – there’s a different area on the far side.”
The council followed her, realising anew how much their lives were dependent on Eshezy’s foreknowledge from a far Greater Power and finding reassurance in the care that the unnamed ‘She’ continued to show. Each of them realised more fully that Eshezy was their best – and only – chance of survival. Eshezy looked at each face as they moved through the succession of arches, finding that her position was being bolstered by each new discovery which she brought to their awareness. This is exactly what was needed, such a layout, such a structure…But, more than anything, I do love the target – oh, thank you ‘She’! You are my guide and guard. I must ever listen to you – and I will, I will!
They walked along the length of the central staircase, observing the massive blocks of stone, so perfectly interlocked, which comprised the wall around it. At the far end, Eshezy looked briefly, confirming what she already thought or expected: There is no further level, no more to see in the depths… or at least, not for now! “Look!” She pointed out beyond the rock-laden staircase enclosure where there were yet more arches and a gently sloping floor that led downwards from them into an area with an almost cathedral-like roof, though she did not recollect the pious terminology, and a loose-soil-floored space some twenty yards across, beneath it. “This is where you will practice with the sword.” And somewhere in this vicinity, quite impossibly but equally truly, there is also a well! She looked down, noticing with amusement that the ground was not even damp.
Gefforen ran to a bench at the far end of the practice arena and tried to pick up a wooden sword from its surface. “This is really heavy!”
Travakane joined her and hefted the wooden blade, comparing it to his new, glittering metal one. “It feels as heavy as this one, though a little broader-bladed. Perfect for practicing, I think.” He turned to Eshezy and bowed. “You are truly the voice of ‘She’ to us all. I’m sorry I was…”
“Don’t.” Eshezy held up one hand, fingers
outstretched in front of his face, and then passed the bow back to Basrillene with the other. “It’s been a hard day, and a sad one. We–” A shiver ran up her spine and she found herself holding in a shout of excitement, as the most beautiful scene she could ever recall viewing flamed briefly across her eyes. The comparative dimness of the practice ground was apparent as the colours faded away. “We are nearly finished our learning for today; I have just one more thing you all must know about. I think it will let me share a little of the vision that ‘She’ gives me, though not in quite in the same way, and it will help those who will remain feel Her presence, while I am away.”
Eshezy took her council back up the stairs, through the picture and symbol room and up the next flight, into her kitchen. I do love this place. She smiled at the porthole-like windows and the thought of the hidden, self-replenishing pink meat slab, the seemingly inexhaustible supply of hidden compartments and wondrous spaces and places within the walls, and the magically refreshing well water without.
“I will leave tomorrow – I know I must.” She looked at Travakane and then Basrillene. “But what I will show you now will give you an idea of the extent of the land which you must keep safe until we return.” And we will take Carranavak with us, though I will tell no one until the moment of departure. We will not be bringing him back here, when we return, either. This she knew with certainty, though she had no explanation for it. Like so many things…
“Come to the wing you called ‘three’.” Eshezy led them past the entrance to the fourth wing, within which was the cell with the detained and deposed governor and the dead body of his loyal servant. She stopped and turned around when they arrived at the far end of the lower corridor of the third wing and stood so that the door to the stair labelled with nine vertical scratches on the post by the door handle was behind her. She took the time to check each face, trying to determine how much confidence the four before her now had in her leadership, and wondering if they would have more or less after her final revelation. Travakane still looks the most doubtful. I wonder why Harthangan cannot stay with him, his faith might help.
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