Nigma (The Waifs of Duldred Book 3)

by Ana Salote

  They moved quickly along the wide, level pass. ‘Walking on the flat is hardly walking at all,’ said Gritty as she skipped along.

  ‘Enjoy it while you can,’ said Alas. ‘As soon as we hit a village and get some proper food we need to go back up.’

  As the pass twisted the walls grew higher and steeper. Alas looked up uneasily.

  ‘There’s no hiding places on this stretch and... something don’t feel right.’

  ‘Do you want to go back?’ said Oy.

  ‘Up and down, stop and start,’ said Lil. ‘What’s wrong with forward and forward?’

  Alas sighed.

  Oy looked from one to the other. ‘Forward is nice, but back is useful – sometimes.’

  Gritty laughed. ‘Oh Oy, is there anything you can’t see both sides of?’

  ‘Quiet,’ Lil interrupted. She stood very still and stared at the ground. ‘There’s a rider coming. I feel it through my feet.’

  ‘Which way?’ said Alas.

  ‘Behind.’

  Alas looked at the walls. They were too smooth to climb. ‘Run,’ he said. They ran along the twisting gorge till the path turned sharply into a tunnel. ‘Don’t go in,’ Alas panted. ‘It could be a trap.’ He began to climb the side of the gorge.

  ‘Alas, even a fly would come unstuck on this,’ said Gritty.

  Alas came unstuck, skinning his arms. The hoofbeats were closing. There was nowhere to go but into the tunnel.

  The sudden dark blinded them. Their breath was loud and their footsteps echoed. The rider did not follow them into the tunnel. ‘He’s blocked us behind,’ said Alas. ‘You know what that means.’

  ‘Someone else has blocked us in front,’ said Gritty. ‘What’ll we do?’

  ‘I ain’t sitting it out in the dark waiting for them to close on us,’ said Alas. ‘We’ll go on. I’m the one they want. I’ll fight for as long as I can. You must do your best to get away.’ He pulled his knife from his pocket.

  They felt their way along the rough walls. The tunnel filled with a hot wild smell. ‘I know that scent,’ said Oy with a lift in his voice. The scent grew stronger and then the wall bulged and its texture changed to thick fur.

  ‘Back, everyone!’ Alas shouted.

  ‘It’s alright, Alas,’ said Oy, ‘It’s a bear. It won’t hurt you if you...’ The rest of Oy’s speech was muffled in a furry embrace. There was a muddle of bodies and fur and questions and Oy’s small voice reassuring his friends that there really was a bear in the tunnel, that the bear was known to him and it was not about to eat them.

  They walked in the wake of the animal towards the light at the end of the tunnel. The exit framed a wide man on a wider mount.

  Rigaw was ready to scare some children and give them a light bashing with his cudgel. Instead a huge beast rushed him. Rigaw struck out. The beast knocked the cudgel from his hand, wrung the breath from his body and threw him like a doll into the tunnel. The waifs cheered.

  ‘It’s Bruin,’ said Oy. ‘See the F brand on his side, and the notch in his ear.’

  Bruin stood sentry at the mouth of the tunnel growling in a low and friendly way. Rigaw stirred behind him and the growl turned to a pleated snarl with a fearsome show of teeth. Rigaw did not move again. The waifs went to pat the bear. Bruin dipped his head and waved his paws.

  ‘He’s saying move on,’ said Oy.

  The waifs buried their faces in fur, breathed the scent of the wild, repeated their thanks and ran.

  At the next twist in the gorge a fat pony waited. A malformed hound was strapped to its back. Its giant muzzle was bandaged tight, but as Alas came near its excitement was so great it snapped the bandage and bayed like a wolf pack at full moon.

  Lil’s tuning fork vibrated so hard that her whole body shook. She pressed it back with both hands.

  They hurried on until the baying faded and the sides of the gorge opened out. In the far distance they could see the pale sweep of the Carnoffel Dam. They continued along the pass, pondering on how and why the bear had helped them.

  Oy told Bruin’s story. The Felluns had tormented him so that his liver would swell and blacken. Full of anger and despair Bruin had sickened. Oy had healed him with kindness and medicine. Gritty told how she had freed the other animals and how Bruin had avenged himself on Ijaw. Since the Felluns had pumped Bruin so full of anger it wasn’t surprising he had some left over and the waifs were grateful for it.

  They looked at the map. Oy thought that Bruin would hold Rigaw in the tunnel for a few days at least. That meant they could stick to the pass till the final climb. After that the dry plain of Scorpus would take them to the edge of Cracnazy.

  9 Redbo

  Gertie was so thirsty she could hardly swallow. Yehvo and Ferralee walked ahead. They were quarrelling as usual. Every day Ferralee threatened to leave them and Yehvo somehow talked her out of it. Ferralee was refusing to go much further without water. Yehvo knew of a well. She said it wasn’t far but it was. When they reached it Gertie thought she had never known such relief and pleasure, even though the water had a salt tang. After that the land got drier and the food scarcer. One morning Yehvo spent a long time whispering to Trotdog then she sent him home. He trotted away with his head hanging. Every few paces he stopped and looked back.

  ‘Do you have to?’ said Gertie. ‘He looks so sad.’

  ‘He knows there’s not enough food in these parts for three and a dog. He’ll survive scavenging round the fort till I get back.’

  ‘There’s not enough food for three with or without a dog,’ said Ferralee. She walked off, fuelled by temper. Soon she pulled so far ahead that Yehvo had to call her back.

  Ferralee waited. She watched Gertie approach. ‘No wonder you are so slow. It takes energy to walk as badly as that.’

  ‘You’d better teach her how to do it properly then,’ said Yehvo.

  Ferralee tried. Gertie did her best. It wasn’t good enough. Ferralee couldn’t understand how anyone could be so out of touch with their body.

  They travelled from quarry to quarry searching for Redbo. Yehvo went in to each quarry and offered to tell the fortunes of the Fellun masters in exchange for bread. While there she looked around for Redbo. She did not find him in any of the smaller quarries. Only the Oogin quarry remained. Yehvo was sure they would find Redbo there. He wasn’t. End of plan.

  Whatever Ferralee felt showed in her whole body. When she was angry her eyes, hair, hands, feet, hips and shoulders were angry. She yelled at Yehvo.

  Yehvo folded her arms, and tilted her head back. ‘It’s just a setback,’ said Yehvo. ‘He must be somewhere.’

  ‘He’s a blastman. His arms could be in one place and his legs in another.’ Ferralee’s body convulsed as though she herself was exploding.

  For the first time Yehvo looked uncertain. ‘I’ll go into the village and ask for him,’ she said.

  Ferralee and Gertie were forced to wait together. They found a space between the rocks and sat as far apart as they could. Ferralee was poised and immobile. Gertie picked at her nails and toyed with the gravel.

  ‘That’s annoying,’ said Ferralee.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Gertie, pressing her hands between her knees.

  It was growing dark when Yehvo came climbing back towards them. Gertie looked down at the bony old knees raised one after the other and the black and grey braids on top of Yehvo’s head. Yehvo lifted her face. ‘He’s still in one piece,’ she said. ‘He’s blasting at a new quarry – Ooger – not far, we can make it tonight.’

  They found a fresh track leading to Ooger. Again, Ferralee and Gertie hid while Yehvo went in. She smiled as she recognised the Fellun quarrymaster. It was Gallunjaw Sizor. Yehvo knew things about him. His wife, Gastrict, had a new baby. By Fellun standards it was small and bloodless. Gastrict didn’t like it and was trying to lose it. Yehvo told Gallunjaw that she had a vision of his child left alone under a bench in the sangary.

  ‘What’s wrong with the woman?’ said Gallunjaw. ‘She didn’t like
the last one or the one before that.’ He paced around. ‘If it happens one more time...’ He checked himself. Yehvo wasn’t listening. She had spotted Redbo.

  The light was draining from the quarry. One of the Felluns sounded a horn and the men came away from the cliff face. They were too exhausted to talk or hurry. They dropped their tools in piles and looked as though they would like to drop there, too. Four guards escorted them out.

  ‘That man,’ said Yehvo to Gallunjaw, ‘the one by the hut. I have a warning for him.’

  Gallunjaw looked concerned. ‘What do you see?’

  ‘If I told you the spirits would kill you. The message is for him alone.’

  ‘Redbo,’ called the master. ‘Crone wants to talk to you.’

  Yehvo crunched across the silent quarry towards the blastman. ‘Cousin,’ she whispered with her sunray grin. Redbo clasped her hand. He had the same smile, the same leathery skin and stringy body. They spoke quietly together then they returned to Gallunjaw.

  Redbo scratched his head. ‘This old one has brought me a message from the spirits,’ he said. There’s danger here tonight. She’s going to say some spells over the blast shed before I start work. Stay well back, boss.’

  The Fellun pondered. ‘We’d better put off the blasting for tonight.’

  ‘It might be weeks before we get another night as dark as this,’ said Redbo. ‘You know what this stuff is like. Once I uncover it a bit of moonlight’s enough to set it off. I’ve known too much starlight set off a bad batch.’

  ‘Go on then,’ said the Fellun. ‘I hope your spells are strong old woman.’

  ‘None stronger,’ said Yehvo.

  The cousins walked back to the blasting shed. Gallunjaw hid behind a wall of rock.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ Redbo asked as he prepared to unlock the door. ‘It’s evil stuff.’

  ‘I’ll risk it.’

  ‘The parcel I’ll give you is wrapped in black cloth and painted twice in tar. You leave it that way till you put it in place. You choose the darkest of nights then you pierce a tiny hole and leave it. Get well away. The lightening sky will set it off even before sunrise.’

  ‘I know, I know.’

  Redbo unlocked the shed. ‘Cover your face. There’s always some dust in here. You don’t want it in your lungs.’ He opened the door and removed two rolls of powder, one for himself and one for Yehvo.

  While he was talking he forgot to check the sky. The cloud over the moon had thinned. There was a white glow above the cliffs and a tiny glint in the blackness of the shed. Redbo knew what it was. He grabbed Yehvo’s arm. ‘Run!’ he shouted. They ran and skidded in the dust behind a heap of rocks. Redbo covered Yehvo with his body. The boom lifted them and the rocks. It rained stones. Redbo got up. He lifted Yehvo and told her to move fast while the air was thick with dust. ‘Now you know what it can do,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell the guard the spirits took you for spoiling their plans. Luck go with you.’

  Yehvo hurried off into the night.

  Gertie and Ferralee heard the quake. There was a flash like lightning seen from the corner of the eye, then they felt the tremor. When Yehvo reached them the darkness was again complete; they could not see each other.

  ‘What happened?’ said Ferralee.

  ‘I got the powder,’ said Yehvo.

  ‘We heard a blast,’ said Ferralee.

  ‘It was nothing,’ said Yehvo. ‘When Redbo opened the shed a moonbeam struck a glitter out of the dust; it swelled, lit the whole shed and boom, up it went. It was lucky there were only a few rolls in there and I’ve got one of them.’

  ‘And you mean to carry that stuff around?’ said Ferralee.

  ‘Away from the light it’s safe as chalk dust.’

  ‘I thought water could set it off,’ said Ferralee.

  ‘And isn’t that what we’re short of?’ answered Yehvo.

  ‘But you said we’ve a river to cross,’ Ferralee persisted.

  ‘A shallow river. Knee high – no more.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Waist at most. Anyway, you don’t have to worry; I’m the one carrying it.’

  ‘You’d better put it well away from us while we sleep,’ said Ferralee.

  ‘What if I can’t find it in the morning?’

  ‘Well then I’m moving away from it,’ said Ferralee.

  ‘Go with her if you like, Gertie,’ said Yehvo.

  ‘I can’t see to go anywhere,’ said Gertie.

  The sun had not cleared the mountain tops when there was a loud crack. Yehvo woke and felt for her tarred bundle. Gertie opened her eyes.

  ‘It’s alright,’ said Yehvo. ‘They start work early in the quarries.’

  Ferralee came to them. Her shawl was pulled tightly round her. She was shivering.

  ‘Missing your warm bed?’ said Yehvo.

  ‘A body can’t stay warm without food,’ said Ferralee.

  ‘There is food,’ said Yehvo. ‘This way. I noticed a weeping rock last night.’

  ‘What’s a weeping rock?’ said Gertie.

  ‘This is.’ Yehvo stopped. Lizards covered the wall. Disturbed, they darted away with bundles in their mouths. The rock they left was sticky with gum and studded with moths. ‘The jeeks spit on the rock so it looks like it’s weeping. The spit is sweet. The moths are drawn to the spit but once they land they’re stuck,’ said Yehvo.

  She plucked a moth from the rock. The gum stretched and snapped. Yehvo bundled the moth in the sticky threads and put it in her mouth. Ferralee turned away in disgust.

  ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t do the same when you were a child,’ said Yehvo.

  ‘I have never eaten a moth wrapped in lizard spit,’ said Ferralee.

  ‘Here’s one that nearly got away,’ said Yehvo. The moth spiralled in the air caught on a strand of gum. Yehvo offered the grey bundle to Gertie.

  ‘I can’t,’ said Gertie.

  ‘Why not? I thought you were a survivor.’

  ‘I know it.’ She nodded at the moth.

  ‘Personally?’

  ‘It feels like it. I named some moths with Emberd. This one I called dusky archer after the tiny arrows on its wings. I can’t eat it.’ Gertie shook her head.

  ‘Please yourselves.’ Yehvo carried on eating the moths. ‘Have some gum then.’

  Gertie copied Yehvo winding the sweet gum around her fingers and sucking it off. Ferralee was so hungry that she joined them.

  Since Yehvo had apparently been taken by the spirits, they could not return through the quarry. Instead they detoured through the mountains adding to their journey. When they returned to the gorge Yehvo was filled with nostalgia.

  ‘We’re getting close to my homelands now,’ she said. ‘I’ll show you Yeheva, Gertie, the place where I was born. I haven’t seen it since I was a one-name. We could even go up to the manch. That’s my family cave. It’s not far out of our way.

  Ferralee’s face tightened, but she said nothing.

  10 The Healing Camp

  The waifs kept to the pass and reached the next village unhindered. Gritty went trading again. She returned with dried fish, bread and a chunk of something brown. Oy thought it was made with cricket flour and salt so they called it cricket cake.

  One low mountain range remained. Beyond lay the plain of Scorpus and Cracnazy.

  They skirted a small lake. The green borders soon gave way to scree slopes. It was difficult country. They scrambled up the dusty heaps, sometimes sliding back amid bounding stones. Lil’s face was tight. All the fine lines in it were drawn downwards. At last by holding on to saplings and outcrops they reached the goat paths. Lil flattened her back against the rocks and rested.

  ‘Are you alright, Lil?’ Oy asked.

  ‘There’s only one thing worth bending for. I shall see it when I reach the top.’

  ‘Home?’ said Oy.

  ‘Home,’ said Lil.

  They climbed higher still, walking the narrow margins of rock and sky. Ahead of them a goat stood sentr
y on a ledge. As they neared, it made way. It stepped on what were little more than ripples in the rock and joined another path further up. ‘This will be a heart-stopper,’ said Gritty. She looked at the drop and said, ‘Do we want to do it?’

  Alas looked up. ‘We’re nearly at the top. Let’s drink and think.’

  They sat on the ledge and drank and thought. Gritty said she would try it. If it was a stretch for her then it would be too much for Oy and they ought to go back. Gritty prepared herself. ‘One foot there, the other there, reach across – that bird’s putting me off.’ A hawk hung in the air above them. It was intent on Gritty and had positioned itself in an ominous way. ‘I think it’s considering me for dinner.’ Alas waved at it. Its head flicked like the second hand on a clock. It had seen something else. It dived.

  ‘It’s going for another bird,’ said Oy.

  They watched as the hawk attacked. It missed its target twice. On the third try its talons closed on the other bird’s neck.

  Oy lay on his belly on the ledge to get a better view. ‘That other bird... it looks like... it is Bagla,’ said Oy.

  ‘Oh Lor’. Are you sure?’ said Gritty.

  ‘He’s right,’ said Alas.

  The hawk and the white bird landed on the mountainside. They merged into a hybrid with light and dark wings. The white bird struggled to be separate again. The hawk fought to dominate the other..

  ‘Bagla, don’t let it...’ Gritty screamed.

  ‘It’s alright,’ said Alas. ‘Bagla’s got the hawk. She’s swallowing it.’

  Bagla held the hawk’s head in her beak. The hawk flapped powerfully and then slowly. When it was still, Bagla let go. The stunned hawk hobbled away. Bagla hustled it off the cliff edge, then she launched herself.

  ‘Here she comes,’ said Alas. Bagla swept towards them. They shouted encouragement but their voices trailed as she veered off without landing.

  ‘How did she miss us?’ said Gritty. The pelican passed again, so close they could see the droops and folds of her face. ‘Here, Bagla,’ they shouted. But Bagla settled on the scree slopes. There she preened and settled and appeared to fall asleep.