by Ana Salote
‘What are you smiling for?’ said Rigaw.
‘Only because I haven’t got a single thought about what we should do, but I know you do. And you’re about to impress me, Capun. And I’m about to say to myself, however did the Capun know that? And that’s why you’re Capun Rigaw and I’m Skulp.’
‘Get me the map,’ said Rigaw.
The wind rattled the map. Skulp spread it on the ground and tried to hold down four corners with two hands.
‘Get stones,’ said Rigaw.
‘What for, Capun?’
‘To hold the map down. I’m beginning to wish I’d brought someone with more mush and less skull.’
‘Capun. There ain’t no stones.’
Rigaw sighed and weighted the map with his club and water bladder. ‘You do the same – not right next to mine, on the other corners. Now get the bags. I need something to sit on.’
‘I’m the same, Capun. Not much give in the knees.’
Rigaw leaned over the map. Skulp continued to smile and to watch him. Rigaw muttered something. ‘What’s that, Capun? Was that a thought?’
Rigaw scrubbed at his oversized jaw. His hair did not grow easily through his thick skin. His chin was covered in spiny bumps where the new growth was trying to push through. This, too, was putting him in a temper. ‘Do something useful,’ said Rigaw. ‘Fetch me some breakfast. Boar if they’ve got it.’
‘Raw boar, Capun?’
‘Singe the bristles. Get the snout for the hound – and milk, bring it some milk.’
Skulp went away and returned with a package that smelled of burnt hair. ‘Capun, you look like a man that’s had a thought.’
‘Give me the meat.’ Rigaw tore at the boar steak and talked with his mouth full. ‘From the top of the gorge there’s two ways they might go to get clear of Fellund. We’ll need the bobo again to tell us which. But first we’ve got to get back in scenting distance.’ He picked at the flesh between his teeth. ‘Remember the tunnel we blasted at Wurr?’
‘Yes, Capun.’
‘We’ll head that way. Look here: round the lake and onto the mountain road.’
‘I’ve got it, Capun.’
‘Have you? You don’t look like you have.’
‘Oh I have, Capun. It all makes sense, only... the road up to the pass, will the wagon fit on it? That’s what I’m thinking.’
‘We’ll chop it in half.’
‘Chop it in half, he says. You’re ten steps ahead of me, Capun.’
‘Smack my face,’ said Rigaw, touching the tender places where bristles tented his skin.
Skulp slapped Rigaw’s face briskly. The spikes burst through. ‘That better, Capun?’
Rigaw dabbed at his bloody face with relief.
The cliffs were as easy to climb as a set of stairs. From the top the waifs could see the whole of the mud pan and the road that ran around it in the distance. There was no sign of pursuit. Alas made a fist and raised his arm in victory pose.
‘Do you think they’ve given up?’ said Gritty.
‘No,’ said Alas, ‘but if we take to the mountains above the gorge we’re safe for a while. Horses can’t follow the high passes and a Fellun without a horse is a slow and lumbering thing. At least up there we can ease our guard.’
Gritty, looked to the mountains with relish. ‘There’ll be some real climbing to do up there.’
‘I hate climbing,’ said Lil. ‘I won’t be seen bending in places I wasn’t meant to bend. It isn’t dignified.’
Alas bit his nails.
‘We’ll avert for you,’ said Gritty.
‘I’m not a very good climber either,’ said Oy.
‘I didn’t say I’m not good. I said climbing’s not good,’ said Lil.
They watched the cloud shadows on the rock faces rising from the greener slopes.
Gritty shaded her eyes and screamed with excitement. ‘Is it?’ she said. ‘It is! It’s Bagla.’
4 Messages
Emberd crossed another day off his chart. ‘Fifteen days. I hope Bagla is alright?’
‘You’re fond of that bird aren’t you?’ said Gertie. She looked at the map pinned beneath the chart. ‘There’s a lot of space to search.’ She moved her finger over marshes, forests and mountains. ‘If she finds them it will be down to luck won’t it?’
‘Per says that what needs to be found is forever at your feet,’ said Emberd.
They were quiet for a minute then Gertie laughed. ‘Why is it that Per’s sayings strike everyone silent?’
‘It does seem that way,’ said Emberd. ‘Gertie, I did want to talk to you about the tree cache.’
Gertie’s heart skipped. Emberd had trusted her to restore one of the ancient books they had found among the roots of a fallen tree. Much of the book had been destroyed by mice, and she was afraid to tell him.
‘It’s been quite a while now since we found the books,’ Emberd went on. ‘Are you making progress?’
‘Erm, some.’ Gertie met his eyes briefly and looked away. ‘There’s a lot of other things to do.’
‘I have more time now. Perhaps I can help.’
‘Emberd, there’s something... Oh look, Jeras is waving at me. I’d better see what she wants.’ Gertie escaped her confession.
Jeras said there was a Chee woman outside asking for Gritty and her sister. Gertie went out. An old woman and a dog were waiting for her in the bower. ‘Are you Gertie?’ said the woman.
‘I am.’
‘And is your sister here?’
I’m afraid there’s just me. Gritty’s away. Is there something I can do for you?’
‘Do you know me child?’
‘I think you must be Yehvo,’ said Gertie.
‘Did Grittee commend me?’
‘She did. And Trotdog.’
‘Yes, this is old Trotty. Go on Trot, say hello.’ Gertie fussed the postdog. ‘What did she say about me?’
‘She said you had a lot of energy for an...’
‘An old one. There’s pride in age child. Not many Chee make it to their third naming. The Felluns work ’em to death, else they starve long before that.’
‘It’s the same where we come from,’ said Gertie.
‘And where is that? I never did get it out of Grittee. We had a short acquaintance.’
‘There’s no harm in telling you now. Poria, it’s the other side of the storm wall.’
Yehvo’s eyes widened. ‘So there is something out there. I’d like to hear about it when we’ve time. When will Grittee be back?’
‘I don’t know. She’s gone on a long trip.’
‘Well that changes things. Still, there are ways around it,’ Yehvo thought out loud. ‘Your sister thinks very highly of you.’
‘Too highly. She makes too much of reading and books and stuff.’
‘She said you’re sharp as a skinning knife and smarter than a knee scrape with salt in it.’
‘She ain’t slow herself.’
‘Not compared to most, but she’s got you for a sister. Let me see your eyes again.’ Gertie lifted her face. Yehvo chuckled. ‘Them’s thinking eyes set in a thinking face. The best sight I’ve seen in a long time. What are you doing with all that brainpower, Gertie?’
‘I’m not that brainy.’
‘I think you are.’
‘I’m not like the scholars.’
‘Scholar wits are no use in our world. Are you going to waste that brain putting books in the right order? We’ve a bigger job to do.’
The old woman and the girl shared a tree seat. The white dog sat alert at Yehvo’s feet. The old and young head grew closer. The dog sank to his belly. Yehvo talked on. Sometimes it seemed that Gertie was protesting. Yehvo kept on talking. Trotty lay his head on his paws and slept, but Yehvo’s tongue did not tire, not till Gertie’s doubts turned to maybes and finally to: ‘I’ll try.’
When Yehvo left she looked younger while Gertie looked older. Yehvo walked lightly; Gertie walked blindly, thinking.
Gertie trawled the fourth arondah l
ooking for books on building. The books were full of signs and numbers. She asked some scholars what it all meant. None of them knew. She started with the easier books and quickly learned a great deal about building materials, about mud and straw and stone and wood. She knew how to fit them together so the joins didn’t show and the buildings looked like they had grown there. Then she turned to the harder books, the ones that were full of symbols. It was like learning to read again. Slowly Gertie began to understand.
Yehvo came back. Gertie told her about the forces that make things move and the forces that make things stick. She scribbled down symbols and showed how to make everything balance.
Yehvo was impressed. ‘Anything about dams?’
‘I’ve just started on this book about dam-building.’
‘That’s what we need to know but we need to know it backwards – how to unbuild.’
‘Unbuilding – I don’t think so. The Arcann – that’s what they called the Nondul builders – made things to last as long as mountains.’
Yehvo looked frustrated. ‘How long will it take to read?’
‘It’s hard going. There’s lots of new symbols.’
‘Five days?’
‘Nearer ten.’
‘Eight. I’ll be back.’
Gertie had lost something. Thinking used to be the easiest thing in the world. She could never understand when others found it difficult. Now, as she hid in her loft with her head in her hands trying to make sense of the Arcannie, her mind was either jumbled, or worse, blank. For the first time she was tired of thinking. The Nonduls never strained at things. What was their secret?
Among the books was a box of coloured stones. Needing a break she took them to show Linnet.
‘Sorry I ain’t been around so much lately,’ she said, as Linnet admired the chips of stone.
‘I know why you’re keeping busy,’ said Linnet. ‘The gaps in doing is when we miss ’em ain’t it?’
Gertie nodded. ‘I don’t think about Gritty so much when I’m working.’
‘My days are all gap. I wish I had work to do.’
‘I know, but you need to rest. Oy and Clair said so. I got a job to do for a friend of Gritty’s. Remember when she talked about Yehvo? Soon as I’m done I’ll come and see you more often. See the red stone with the green bits, that’s made out of sand all pressed together.’
‘Does that mean there’s red and green beaches somewhere?’
‘Or deserts. The hard stones, they’re made by heat inside mountains. Are you missing Oy very much?’
‘All the time.’ Linnet rolled a stone in her fingers. ‘I remember when I first saw him. He stood there, small and harmless as a newborn baby. In over his head he was, hundreds of us looking at him who’d never been looked at before ’cept by rats. He pinned his eyes on me; it was the white hair I suppose, gave him something to focus on. He said later it steadied him, kept him from falling. I spoke up, called for him to sit with me. I told him that seat and a patch of floor in the night sheds was our home, and we were each other’s family. He didn’t know much to begin with: he could tell you how to make a cake; he knew a bit about rats and weeds and spiders and a tree growing out of a wall and he knew about ghosts. The bakery boys thought the place was haunted and Oy got to thinking that he was the ghost. I’ve been called a ghost myself, being so pale and all.
‘Funny – even with all that noise it grew quiet around us when we talked. We barely had to raise our voices. Ain’t that strange, Gertie? At night we kept on whispering. Remember how the moon and starlight came through the tall windows. I used to get a pain in my chest for the beauty of it and everyone sleeping around me, no one to share it with. Then Oy came and we just lay there falling into the stars or were the stars falling into us? Just to say goodnight to someone, that was a warm feeling.’
‘And then Viniga came and took him,’ said Gertie.
Linnet nodded. ‘That was hard. I was glad to be a Porian then. We know how to guard our hearts. I’m not so good at it here. The feelings come right up and sit on your skin like dust.’
Gertie reached for Linnet’s hand. ‘You’ve got other friends you know.’
‘It’s not that I don’t love y’all, Gert, but I’m close to Oy in a different way.’
‘I know; it’s the same with my Gritty.’
‘I love the way she don’t give space to fear,’ said Linnet. ‘Remember how she drove the cart away from Duldred, laughing?’
‘And how she ran out onto that bridge and hung over the edge.’ Gertie smiled to herself.
‘I wish I had freckles,’ said Linnet.
‘Do you?’
‘Mm, like Gritty’s.’
‘Nice ain’t they? I’m more moley being dark.’
‘All I got is a splodge.’ Linnet touched the mark on her temple.
‘Think of it like the pretty marking on Mrs Midden’s mouser.’
Linnet did not seem convinced. ‘I miss the others, too,’ she said. ‘Alas is a good sort once you get past his fences. I saw another side to him in the Kith. He’s got the same hole as the rest of us – never had a childhood.’
‘Didn’t he miss out on mothering altogether?’
‘Same with Oy.’
‘Who do you think Oy is, Linn? Where do you think he came from if not Poria?’
‘I don’t know. He picked up language very quick, like he was remembering, not learning. And once or twice he used words I hadn’t heard before and he covered it up like it was a mistake. He’s a mystery – but it don’t matter do it?’
‘No it don’t.’
‘Will we see ’em again, Gert?’
‘Some time, somewhere, we will.’
‘Want to sleep here tonight?’
‘Yes, I do.’ Gertie made her bed on the floor.
‘So what’s this job you’re doing?’
‘Yehvo wants me to find out about unbuilding. First I got to know about building. I’ve started a book like nothing you’ve ever seen. It’s taking all my brain to read it.’
‘All your brain. That’s a lot of book.’
‘It is and I don’t know if I’m up to it. I don’t want to let anybody else down.’
‘Who else have you let down?’
‘Emberd.’ Gertie told Linnet about the book that was eaten and then about dam building. She talked on till Linnet fell asleep.
Gertie lay with her hands clasped on her chest and stared at the ceiling. The thoughts that had danced apart in her head for days began to dance together. Her jenie was back. Too excited to sleep she went to the library and found her place in the Arcann book. The squiggles were no longer squiggles. They had a meaning. Gertie thought it was beautiful.
Next day Bagla came back. She ignored the greetings of the scholars and laboured towards her pedestal in the library. Gertie came running from the office with Emberd behind her. Bagla looked up at her pedestal as though it were a mountain. The folds under her eyes were dark and swagged like curtains.
‘Poor tired bird,’ said Gertie. ‘You want up? You want to get up there?’
Bagla tried to launch herself and failed. Emberd watched with a worried frown.
‘Shall we lift her?’ said Gertie. ‘I know she don’t like to be touched. Come on, Bagla.’ Gertie stretched her arms around the large bird. ‘I know, I know. Relax. Help me, Emberd.’ Together they lifted Bagla onto her pedestal.
‘She must have flown a great distance,’ said Emberd.
Bagla’s lids were sliding down.
‘Don’t sleep yet,’ said Gertie. ‘Did you find them? Have you got something for us? Open your beak, then you can sleep.’
‘She’s dazed,’ said Emberd. ‘Don’t press her too much.’ He went to fetch water.
Gertie held the dish but Bagla was too tired to drink. ‘Come on. Good bird,’ she said. ‘Let me see and later on I’ll bring you a fresh tiggler fish.’ Bagla’s head was falling to one side. Gertie took hold of her beak. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t wait.’ Bagla didn’t have the stren
gth to resist as Gertie prised her beak open and wriggled her fingers in. She pulled out a roll of paper. Bagla sank in on herself and slept.
Gertie took the paper to the nearest desk and opened it out. ‘Pen, I need...’ Emberd held out a pen. Gertie decoded the message and rewrote it between the lines. She skimmed it quickly then read aloud to Emberd and a growing group of scholars. As soon as she reached the end she excused herself. ‘I got to show Linnet. This will set her on proper.’
When Linnet saw Gertie’s face her blood rose. She did not flush, she greyed. ‘It’s a message ain’t it?’
‘Yes,’ said Gertie. ‘Are you alright?’
‘Yes, yes. What does it say?’
Gertie read Alas’s brief log of their journey. He finished with:
‘There’s so much more to tell but no time or space. Rigaw is off our tail for now. We have topped the first rank of mountains. I don’t know how. Gritty has an eye for a route. So far we’ve all been able to follow. We hope to find food and water in the valley. Don’t worry, I think we shall outwit them.’
Next came Gritty’s message:
‘Alas has told all. He argues with Lil but we couldn’t have crossed the bog without her. Oy is a good peacemaker and for now they are letting each other be. Bagla has lifted our hearts. I can’t explain how it feels to have your words come to us in this lonely place. We move fast and don’t rest much. You will be surprised how far we have come. There’s new sights all around and tough ground to cover. Just how I like it. Miss you, Gert.’
‘So much. Miss you so much,’ said Gertie.
Oy had written:
‘Linn, we are getting on very nicely. I will read your letter morning and night. It will give me the strength to keep up when I am tired. Keep listening to Ede. If she says rest you got to rest. So much has happened there’s no room to write it, but I’m saving the stories for you, the sounds and smells and especially the colours. I want to say other things but you know it all. You must stay well and don’t forget this is my last trip and then we shall be happy.’
‘I am listening to Ede, aren’t I, Gert? And I’m not being silly and overdoing it like I was. I want to write and tell him that. Can we, Gert?’