“Wise decision,” she said smiling, and kept looking at him until he looked back, and she got him to smile.
The first day’s ride extended into late afternoon. The dirt path continued bordered by nearby low, grassy hills. Sammy playacted drained from the ride, his body angling to the side, and Shawn pushing it back over the horse’s withers. “Let me just fall,” Sammy said. “I just want to feel the ground again.”
“I don’t think we’ll be riding much more today,” Shawn said.
“You mean we do this again tomorrow?”
“I don’t know, but it beats walking.”
“I wish you would all stop saying that.”
“Well, it’s true,” Shawn said shaking his head, enjoying the trail ride.
“What are all those black birds that keep flying by overhead?” Sammy said, looking skyward.
“Don’t know.”
“Back and forth, back and forth they go, like me on this animal. I know, I know, it beats walking.”
At the lead, Gus rode with Russell who looked worn and pallid.
“These horses remind me of us,” Russell said.
“That’s an interesting comment.”
“Like men and us. Them riding us. Digging their heels into us.”
“You judge them too harshly, don’t you think? Put yourself in their situation of not understanding us and what we do, and you can understand why they react against us as they do.”
“All we do is act according to our nature, don’t we?”
“Yes.”
“And we understand them, don’t hate them, don’t harm them.”
“True, by our nature, but you fail to see our nature as they see it. That is, how they consider our end of season calling.”
“All I know is that they persecute us and they hate us. Matter of fact, it’s a bad comparison to make with these horses we ride, except maybe that like these horses we wanna be free like before being broken and saddled.”
“Is that what you want?”
Russell remained quiet.
“Is that what you would want, Russell?”
“Wouldn’t mind . . .”
Nathan rode up to them. “We’ll ride a little longer if you’re holding up, Russell.”
“I’m fine.”
“What were you talking about?”
“Russell’s discomfort with men’s dominion over us.”
“Nathan wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh?”
“You’re not . . . afraid.”
“I’m plenty afraid, and fearful,” Nathan said, tenderly and in truth.
“Gus, how many women have you had?” Russell asked.
“Oh . . . ,” Gus said, he and Nathan laughing. “I think I know when someone is changing the subject ha-ha . . . but alright. Many. But what are you grousing about. Look at you. You’re young and strong and supremely good looking, and surrounded by friends.”
“I am, although the runt of the yulen litter.”
“Our runts are their movie stars, Russell.”
“Yeah, but I’m still yulen.”
“Russell, you’re a superstar,” Nathan said to cheer him up.
“Okay. So, how many, Gus?” Russell said brightening.
Gus thought. “Well with my years . . . ,” he said, rubbing his chin, then pointing ahead. “You see those trees? And all those many black birds piled on their branches?”
Nathan and Russell were laughing.
“That’s how many. Like the birds on those branches.”
“Let’s see how many,” Russell said, and holding his riding crop by its leather loop, twirled it several times above his shoulder, released it, and it whirled toward the trees. When it landed, at first a hundred birds shot out, then hundreds more, then a black cloud of thousands took off, the different bands collecting and unifying into an enormous flock of ten thousand.
They watched the black patch traverse the sky, dropping and rising. They nodded to one another of its majesty. Whooshing ten thousand chirping birds the flock swooshed chattering so loud that the horses startled when it passed feet from the path.
The black cloud painted the sky as if directed by an invisible conductor’s baton. Whoosh—they dropped and flew across the party, exciting the group and the horses, and then climbed.
The cloud reached far away, and again turned, dropped, and shot toward the group. Passing them like a rushing train across a platform, chattering like hale striking glass, the startling sound caused the horses to rear, and Leeda’s kicked and tossed her. “Get her horse, Sammy!” Nathan called to him closest to the horse. “Here horsey-horsey,” Sammy said, hopelessly trying to push his horse between hers and her body on the ground. “Here horsey-horsey.”
Rushing to the bronking animal, Shawn helped Sammy move it back away from Leeda on the dirt, until the animal took off.
“Leeda,” Nathan said, jumping from his horse to her on the ground. “Leeda.” He lifted her shoulders and held her closed eyed head. “Leeda,” he said, holding her, tapping her cheeks when her arms abruptly reached around his neck, her head lifted and she firmly kissed his lips.
“I risk my life,” Sammy said, holding the bridles high above his horse, “and somebody else gets the girl.”
When Leeda let go of Nathan, a smile stretched across her face, and Nathan dropped her to the dust, to which she responded laughing.
“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he said, she rubbing the back of her head. “I think we could probably do with a rest. Let’s ride and look for a place to make camp,” he said, turning to take his reins.
“Making camp. Sounds so cowboy,” Sammy said, aiming his horse back onto the trail to follow the others. “Giddyup. Giddyup horsey, giddy.”
“Hey! What about my horse!” Leeda called, her horse having spooked off.
“Pucker your lips and call it!” Nathan yelled, not looking back.
“That’s a fine way to treat a lady,” she called amused.
“We don’t have time for shenanigans, Leeda,” Sammy added, bopping on his horse.
Leeda puckered her lips and smacked kissing sounds. “Here horsey-horsey. Here horsey-horsey . . .”
>
A campfire lighted a clearing around which Nathan and troupe sat on or leaned against several encircling logs. Sammy bent to drop a pile of kindling on the fire. “Sticking to nature, as Gus is always carrying on about, leaves a lot to be desired.”
“I believe my references to nature were of our race’s nature, Sammy.”
“What—ever.”
“How old are you, Gus?” Russell said, looking haggard and leaning stretched against a log. “I’m forty,” he added, but looked not more than twenty.
“A baby,” Leeda said.
“Well . . . ,” Gus said. “How old are you, Sammy?”
“Sixty.”
“Shawn?”
“About seventy.”
“Leeda.”
“In my nineties.”
“You don’t look a decade over twenty,” Sammy said.
“And I know Nathan turned a hundred fifteen last month,” Gus said.
“And you didn’t tell us? To celebrate?” Leeda said.
“Didn’t want you to fuss.”
“Add Russell’s, Sammy’s, Shawn’s and Leeda’s ages, and that’s my years,” Gus said. “One-seventy. I believe I’m the oldest of us left. We don’t reach or surpass 300 anymore. Man’s advancements in organization, surveillance, and sophistication.”
“But now we have cooperation,” Russell said, getting up off his side.
“That will go a long way, yes,” Gus said.
“Russell,” Nathan said, “how long are you into late season?”
“Who said I am?”
“Just tell the truth, we’ll know soon enough.”
Russell’s fingers reached into the back of his mouth, pulled side to side, and tossed something to Nathan. Nathan picked it up. A molar, sign he was into late season, the third and last month of t
heir quarterly cycle. Steadily he would deteriorate, and at the end of late season, his nature would call him to commit a taking. It was that calling, which they could not refuse, that when consummated by the taking, regenerated them into early season and a glorious new cycle.
“With the young,” Gus said, “signs of late season aren’t so obvious.”
“You should have said,” Nathan admonished, tossing the tooth into the fire.
“He wanted to come, Nathan,” Leeda said.
“And I’m not going back,” Russell said. “I’m going on. I won’t slow you down. I’m going to get what I set out for, in The Book.”
“And what is that?” Gus asked.
“In that cave, who was chasing who?”
“What are you saying, Russell?”
“I don’t want to be chased anymore. I don’t want to run anymore. Let them run before me.”
“The animals?”
“The beasts. Men.”
“Russell, that’s not what we seek in The Book,” Gus said. “It’s not what we set out for. We seek only to level the field, not take it over. Only to reduce our weakness in the face of men. Not, never, superiority. That would be completely contrary to our nature.”
“Why not? Are we the lower form?”
“We absolutely are not.”
“What good are we, stuff of angels—how often I’ve heard us called—if in the end our higher spirit can do nothing to protect us against the aggression and attacks of men? It makes no sense to me anymore! We live in their world, by their rules. Their world of superiority, and we can’t even like the smallest little animals, just defend ourselves. You call that natural!”
Gus, alarmed by what he heard and about to retort, Nathan interrupted, “I think Russell is just very tired, Gus.”
“I may be tired, Nathan, but I mean what I’m saying. I want from the pages of The Book of Yulen to take away their advantage. I don’t just want to be able to protect myself. I wanna become the tiger!”
“Wicked,” Gus scolded.
“In The Book of Yulen we should seek the secrets to the mysteries that keep us down. To defend ourselves yeah, and how to attack, not just bear our imposed burdens of peacefulness, no-violence, non-aggression. I denounce my peaceful soul. I seek the power over them that they own over us!”
“Wickedness. Madness. You challenge nature Herself. You will be smited!”
“By you, old yulen?”
“Russell, please.” Nathan said.
“No, not by me,” Gus said. “By nature.”
“Nature smite me? No She won’t. I’ll have the hammer!”
“Such boldness is more than we signed on for, and I’m sorry but it’s infinitely more than any brash, rash, or mad young fellow deserves to have. I don’t know where such foolhardy contempt comes from.”
“Heat and exhaustion of a long day, Gus, and his end season,” Nathan said, trying to calm Gus.
“Well Gus, we are social outcasts,” Sammy said. “Maybe it’s gotten to Russell.”
“What society?” Gus said. “We are our own society. That’s all the society that should matter to us. You are all speaking most strangely.”
“Come now, Gus,” Sammy said. “We’re pariahs, and it’s not any fun. I think maybe that’s all that’s gotten to Russ. It’s just not any fun being yulen.”
“Have you all gone stark raving mad?”
“Just kidding, Gus,” Sammy said, although no one seemed to disagree. “Maybe we did get too much sun.”
“Fried your brains yes,” Gus answered. “Nathan, are you hearing this? Your doing? What malevolent spirit has possessed you all?”
“They own the spears,” Russell said, smacking his fist. “And they use them—against us!”
“It’s their beast nature,” Gus said.
“The nature that rules and dominates.”
“In a man dominated world. Yes.”
“A world that’s got to change, old yulen.”
“Such rage. I think you’re ill, young yulen.”
“You need to rest, Russell,” Nathan said.
“We’ll eat of the book of wisdom,” Russell said, eyes growing wild. “And then as in the cave, we’ll possess the weapons, and we’ll take arms to defend, protect, and attack. Vengeance will be ours.”
Gus looked out in disbelief. The others had gone from perplexed to stirred to frightened, their thoughts challenged as they might have been in ghostly dreams. Those sleeping dreams, distant and unreal, alien forbidden dreams that disappeared on waking, and thought about no more.
“Weak, no more . . . ,” Russell said, his thoughts unbridled, but he, looking worn.
“I only want to continue on,” Shawn spoke softly. “Continue on our journey, together. I don’t know what Russell might mean about what he wants. I can’t judge him. I can’t see into his soul. And I only hope he’ll regain peace with himself however that may be. For me, my answer is what I’ve found with all of you—my loneliness settled. I don’t want to smite or hate anybody.”
Gus rose and placed a hand on Shawn’s shoulder as Shawn continued, “I just hope to keep on and remain together and help one another. That’s sufficient for me. It would be good to defend myself against men, but I don’t know, for me it’s enough just to become part of you all like this. That matters most. My longing was completed the day we started, and extends every day we stay together. To be able to remain and share like one family, with you, you my brothers, satisfies any longing I have.”
Gus swallowed. The others except Russell looked around at each other, several exhaling relief the argument ended amicably. However, Gus realized that Russell had broken ground from where a provocative siren rose calling to their baser selves. Nathan may not have meant for the seed he planted to grow as it did, but its ignoble vine attracted and taunted Russell as it wrapped its way around him.
Russell coughed. Shawn stood and put his arm over his shoulder. Russell kept coughing, his face pale, it having lost all robustness from just the day before.
“Lie down on my blanket, Russell,” Leeda said.
Russell shook his head and walked away into the dark beyond the diming firelight.
“You have to admit, Gus,” Sammy said, “it’d be nice not to have to cower before men like cold wet dogs.”
“Nathan has lit that fire inside us,” Gus replied. “And so I agree that it would be preferable not to cower. But that is quite far from what our young friend proposed here. Goodnight.” He picked up his saddle and blanket roll off the ground, and walked away.
“I think Gus has the right idea,” Nathan said. “Let’s try to get some sleep. Goodnight all.”
“Night, Nathan,” Shawn said.
“Goodnight,” said Sammy.
Leeda, who had observed but remained quiet the whole time, turned onto her spread blanket and rested her head on her saddle. She watched Nathan look down pensively leaning against a log. Russell had disturbed what he wanted, put it into question, maybe spoiled it, she thought. If what he wanted from The Book had been forced into contour by Russell’s blasphemy, maybe he’d realize that what he wanted for yulen wasn’t right either. Maybe his desires might eventually journey closer to what she wanted. She watched his troubled yet beautiful profile in the campfire’s warm glow. Concealing any disturbance his doubts disclosed, she saw his eyes close and mind drift, and then her eyes closed, and her thoughts turned calm and soft, and drifted into dreams of him.
IX
The riders durably covered wide valleys east for three days. They passed curious villages interested in why and where they journeyed on horseback. On those nights, they stayed at inns with downy mattresses, and stable hands cared for their animals. Chambermaids infatuated by the group’s comeliness, insisted on bringing them extra bath towels, toiletries and perfumes, and washed their clothes to gleaming. When their guests left, they became confused that they had not used the towels. The baths looked as if they had not even entered them.
Wearing freshly washed
clothes and riding tuned steeds, they rode into Germany. “We’ve just crossed the German border,” Gus said, looking at the GPS screen.
“Ich bin Berliner,” Sammy said in German, smiling at Gus.
“Willkommen in Deutschland,” Gus said. “Germany is where I believe I was born, and where I became killkin, turned yulen, and lived my fledgling yulen years and my time as baron. Most of my life has been lived in many other places, but German is the first language I remember, Germany my earliest memories, so I suppose they bring a closeness not felt for other places.”
“I can’t remember where I turned yulen,” Shawn said.
“It must have been disturbing to you. We tend to forget what distressed and disturbed us.”
“Who wants to remember suffering,” Sammy said, riding up to them on the grassy trail.
“Ah,” Gus said, looking at the GPS screen. “Hain.”
The others gathered round.
“Hello, Gus. I see you’ve crossed into Germany,” Hain said, seated in the same armchair, the open volume on his lap, the tall oil painting of the young woman beside him on a stand. “Willkommen in Deutschland, Gus. Unfortunately, I can’t avoid noting that your progress suggests you did not travel by foot. That is, unless you possess the stamina of marathoners. Are you marathoners, Gus?”
“No, we traveled by horseback.”
“The instructions were clearly to leave your vehicles and travel by foot. You know that violating an instruction disqualifies you.”
“This is Nathan Nols, Mr. Hain.”
“Hello.”
“Your instructions were to travel by foot, and by foot we traveled.”
“Yeah, horse feet,” Russell interrupted. “By horse foot.”
“We traveled, Mr. Hain,” Nathan continued, “by feet of our legs pressing animals forward, sideways, back. We did indeed, Mr. Hain, travel by foot.”
“Very good,” Hain smiled. “Very very good, Mr. Nols. Very good. If I were a hard man, I think I could honestly disqualify you. But as I am a reasonable man, I think I will go along with your humorous bit of playfulness, and allow your indiscretion. So be it, Gus, you may continue. But leave your animals at the next barn. If you ride, if you do not walk on your own two legs, you cannot continue. Is that clear, Gus?”
Yulen: Return of the Beast – Mystery Suspense Thriller (Yulen - Book 2) Page 9