When everything was packed and people were in file, I went to where Arjuna, Richard, Mike Paul and Janet stood by the cattle. Rain pelted down and the wind raged around us as though it wished to topple anything that stood in its way. We watched as people got into ranks and waited in the wet whilst the squaddies marched up and down the rows checking all was in order and we were ready to move.
‘What was that phrase from the twentieth century? Oh yeah, I remember, ‘Like lambs to the slaughter’. Look at how willingly they do what they’re told. Sheep all right,’ Mike said and stroked Daisy’s back. She leaned against his hand and he scratched her soaked skin. ‘You like that, don’t you, girl?’
Daisy mooed.
The loud goose honk sounded.
‘All right. All ready? I said, All ready?’
‘Yes, Sir!’ Everyone except for our little group said.
‘After three, one two, three! Quick, march. Left, right, left, right…’
***
What a storm we had to battle against. Daisy and Oak moaned and mooed so loudly we could hear it above the booming thunder. We pushed, pulled and tugged the cows until we reached the edge of the forest. With the woods behind us and a road that looked more like a river, we marched forward.
The three sick servicemen were strapped to a trolley and trundled along the what was once a narrow country lane. Although the walk was tough, the water ran downwards. That at least kept our spirits up. That and the soldiers’ repetitive cadence calls of, ‘Come on civvies nearly there.’
The reply, ‘We keep on walking take in air.’
‘Westward Ho and on we go.’
‘Keeping time row upon row.’
Strange how something so simple could motivate even the most reticent walker. I watched in disbelief as Sarah, who desperately wanted to go to Edinburgh, appeared to forget her desire for civilisation. She joined in with a strong voice and strode alongside Phillips shouting out the childish verse. Making me wonder all the more about her relationship with these army types.
The higher we walked the stronger the winds became and often we were pushed backwards with the force of it. I did not fear for the herd during the daytime tramps as people, including the soldiers who trekked alongside each small rank of civilians, were too busy trying to stay upright and moving. The nighttime was a different story.
The first evening out of the forest, we decided to camp in an abandoned farm house. It was big and most of the rooms were water tight. Outside were three big stables barns. The cows made low throaty sounds when we, helped by Richard, Paul, Mike and Janet, ushered them in. Arjuna and I smiled at the sight of dozens of bales of hay stacked at the rear. The cows ran towards the food and chomped contentedly, then lay down to rest.
‘I’m as tired as a rat in a giant maze. I could drop right here and snooze till the end of time,’ Mike said and leaned against the dried grass. Janet swept up her long grey streaked auburn hair into a loose bun and yawned, which set everyone else off. We chuckled at our sleepy drooped-eyed faces. Tiredness swept upon us so much that we barely managed to open our rucksacks and snack on the oat bars within.
‘Want some?’ Paul said and handed me a bottle of water.
‘Many thanks,’ I said through a big yawn and gulped.
Sleep washed over us like the rivulets of water around our feet. We stepped away from the wet to where the herd dozed close to their food. The barn was on a slight hill and the rear was dry. The water that trickled past our weary feet came from the small holes in the corrugated roof. I was glad no such gaps existed further back.
We dragged ourselves over to the hay stacks, rolled out our sleeping beds zipped ourselves in and all but Arjuna, who stayed upright watching the cows, succumbed to unconsciousness.
I felt a prod on my shoulder. ‘I have kept watch as best I could, but I am overcome with tiredness and can no longer protect the herd for fear of succumbing to immediate slumber.’ Arjuna yawned and I reluctantly climbed out of my cosy pouch.
‘You sleep. I will tend to the cows.’
I took over for a while, but soon felt my lids droop.
‘Rest. I only need a couple of hours. Been like that since the menopause.’ I jumped at the sound of Janet’s perky voice.
‘Oh, sorry. How long have I been asleep?’
‘Not long, don’t worry. Go on, off you go. Everyone is too zonked to bother with the cows. I took a stroll outside and can guarantee nearly everyone is in the land of slumber. Even if some are not, I have this.’ She withdrew a fierce looking hunting knife from her trouser pocket. ‘I’m very accurate.’
‘Who still wakes?’
‘Corporal Phillips, Kevin and Sarah. When I went outside for a pee, I saw a light on in the house. I can’t say for certain, but I thought I heard them talking on a mobile.’
‘Did you hear the conversation?’
‘No, they talked in a whisper. Tried to get near without being detected, but, well, he must have bat’s ears. I crept up, wind and rain battering the window and out he popped. I just waved and walked past. There’s something wrong with those three. Something bad.’ She shivered.
We did not talk of the incident again and spent the next several days and nights, without incident. We attempted to follow the major roads and did, for a while. Travelling along the M74, but when we came across a road block consisting of overturned lorries, just before the turn off to Glasgow, we had no choice but to take to the smaller roads.
Although the trek was harder on these, all but forgotten by ways and meandering dirt tracks, we made steady progress. Walking, sleeping and guarding our beloved cows. However, on the evening of our last leg, trouble brewed.
The countryside became rugged and devoid of any signs of human life. The roads disappeared and we tramped along and up narrow overgrown paths. It was difficult for the herd, but with our cajoling and gentle prodding, they trudged on.
There were no buildings, not even a decaying barn for us to take refuge in. Arjuna’s map was useless now for we were deep into the hills and had no reference points as such to help us fathom which direction to go in. It was fortuitous that the army men had working sat nav apps in their mobiles that emitted an intermittent red light leading us directly to our destination. Corporal Harris gave us updates from time to time.
‘Less than twenty miles to go. Two, maybe three days is all that’s left. Good news, eh?’ he said walking beside me.
Keeping in rhythm with the herd’s slow-footed steps, I replied to Corporal Harris, who kept looking back down the line of cows. ‘Yes. Very good news. I am amazed that your devices are still working. Even more surprised that someone is out there keeping the lines of communication open.’
He lowered his head and coughed. ‘Yeah, well, in times of danger you can count on the armed forces to maintain links.’ I thought he reddened for a moment. I tried to make eye contact, but he avoided my gaze and said, ‘Yep, like I said, just a few more miles in that direction and well, we’ll be home.’ The word he used for the place we were near to sounded alien. I could not imagine being settled after all of this travelling. He coughed again.
‘Thank you for keeping us informed.’
‘Pleasure Miss.’
He remained by my side, arms behind his back glancing in my direction.
‘Is there anything else?’
‘Yeah, now you mention it. I was wondering if we could borrow your doctor? The sick lads are, well, getting worse. Be a shame if they didn’t make it, you know?’
I turned and waved to Richard. He was at the rear and on seeing my gesture, marched quickly towards us sloshing through deep puddles. ‘I am needed?’
Corporal Harris saluted him, for some reason. Richard arched his eyebrow. ‘Yup. I mean, yes, Sir. The men are pretty bad.’
Richard sighed. ‘Not sure what I can do on the move. I have supplies, but they are buried under a lot of equipment. I can give them an injection to stave off the worst symptoms, but it’s not a cure merely a delaying of the disease.�
��
Harris shook his hand. ‘Anything you can do, Doc, anything.’ They gave me a nod, then walked away. Harris moving his short legs quickly to keep up with Richard’s long strides.
Shortly after their departure, I heard the army horn. I was glad it sounded for my thighs were aching from plodding through the thick mud. The herd stopped and moved into a huddle near a clump of rain-soaked brambles. Arjuna and I busied ourselves with pouring dried food onto the ground for the cows to eat. So engrossed in our task were we that we did not hear Sarah and Kevin approach.
‘All flourishing?’
I let the pellets fall from my hand and turned to face them. ‘All are well as can be.’
Arjuna folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. ‘Do you wish for something?’
‘No, no. Just wanted to make sure the darling flock are okay. Wouldn’t want them to catch a cold.’ Sarah peered at Daisy’s sister Violet, who was coughing up a piece of cud. A natural thing for a cow to do now and then.
‘That one looks sick. You might have to put it out of its misery.’ Kevin leaned towards Violet.
‘She is fine,’ Arjuna said and pushed him away. ‘I know what you are doing.’
‘Me? I don’t know what you mean.’
‘The cows are well. Goodbye.’ He pushed Kevin and Sarah.
‘Charming. I know when I’m not wanted. Come on, Kevin. I’ll go back to the others and report that the herd is well,’ she said and left muttering, ‘It is my duty to report that one of them is near to death, though.’
I would have called after her, but my voice along with the rest of my body was too tired. I moved away and put my head in my hands.
‘Hey, did they upset you?’
I looked up. ‘What? Oh, no.’
Paul wiped a soggy strand of hair from my forehead. ‘Nearly there.’
‘Yes.’ For reasons I cannot say, I took his hand and kissed his fingers. He hugged me close and for a moment the wind and rain ceased and all I could hear was the thud of his heart.
‘Excuse me, but it is time to get going. Pardon my interruption,’ Arjuna said. Paul let me go and we moved on. Arjuna whispered in my ear, ‘A time will come when you and he can become one.’
I smiled.
***
There was not much time to report in my journal during the last stages of our trek. During the day we fought against the mighty wind and rain. We were exhausted, the herd too and it took more than a little pushing and shoving to get them to move. Once, Daisy, overcome with hunger and fatigue sat down on the ground and would not move. It took two oat bars to get her to stand and another one to make her continue on.
It was not only the cows that grumbled. Grace and her remaining children did nothing but complain. Then Sarah joined in, ‘You know we would all benefit from a decent meal. That way we’d have more strength. I mean, look at them,’ she pointed at the bedraggled folk that stood in a line before the herd, who munched their dry food. ‘These poor people, and children, can hardly stand let alone walk up these steep inclines.’
‘What are you suggesting?’
‘I am suggesting, Mayer, that you allow us to butcher a cow so that we humans, can survive.’ She turned to the others who began to mutter similar sentiments.
‘No. We have enough rations. Is that not so, Paul?’
‘Yes, there’s still plenty to go round.’
‘But…’
‘No. End of discussion,’ I said and threw another handful of pellets to the cattle.
The night time was fraught with danger. It took three of us to protect the herd from those who wanted meat. Each time we stopped for sleep someone would approach and try to force us to give over one of the herd. Rations were good I did not understand why people craved our cow’s flesh.
One evening as we settled the cows on a rugged scree strewn plateau, a tall, stocky figure approached Phillips. He circled around us patting his thigh with a large hunting knife. After several minutes he came close.
‘The sick would recover if they had fresh meat. Don’t you understand that?’ Richard and I stared at Phillips. He was red of face, his once cropped black hair hung flat against his cheeks and his small rodent eyes were wide and bloodshot. He kept making a fist with his right hand. ‘With lovely, juicy steaks inside us, we’d walk faster and, well, it would do us a lot of good to sit around a fire roasting a chunk of beef. Like a big get together, you know, like we used to do at a friend’s house for a barbie. Sarah said that one of the herd is dying anyway.’ He stepped forward.
Arjuna’s full lips pursed and he clenched his jaw. ‘That is a lie. All of the cows are in the best of health,’ Arjuna said and slapped a thick branch against his palm. ‘You have tins of meat you can consume, if you must eat the flesh of an animal.’
Phillips took a step towards my friend. ‘It isn’t the same. We’re hungry and tired. Sheezus Mary and Joseph man, give us one cow, just the one. We’ve got a butcher or two that can slaughter without too much fuss. People matter more than beasts.’
‘The cows are sacred.’ Arjuna stepped forward waving the piece of wood before him. ‘I know you are comfortable with slaughtering what you consider to be a lower life form, but,’ he said and stood in front of the angry man, ‘would you murder again?’
Phillips went redder, his neck veins bulged and I thought they would explode. ‘Oy, Harris, over here. Now!’ The Corporal appeared from behind a large rock. ‘Knock him down, give her a smack and I’ll stab one those tender heifers.’
Harris blinked, reached up and rested his hand on Phillips’s shoulder. ‘What? No. Come on, man, leave it.’
‘No. We need meat,’ Phillips said and moved past his fellow officer towards the cows, his knife held high before him.
‘You will not harm the herd,’ Arjuna said low and calm. He raised his stick to strike Phillips, but Harris blocked his attack by kicking him in the shin and grabbing the weapon from him as he fell.
Phillips lunged towards Daisy. As he lifted his blade, I screamed, hurled myself at his solid body and to my surprise, considering his bulk, brought him down hard upon the ground. I stood up and saw a trickle of blood run from his thigh. He flipped over, clutched his leg and said, ‘You, bitch. Harris, help me up. You,’ he pointed at me with his bloodied knife, ‘get the doc.’
Harris lifted his comrade and they slowly walked away.
There were no further attacks.
One of the sick soldiers died during the last day of travelling. Not from the disease he carried, but from falling down the mountain we were ascending. I don’t know what happened for sure all I heard were shouts. We halted and Mike, who was leading the herd came to Arjuna and me. Our turn to take the rear and cajole an antsy Oak to walk.
‘One of those sickies has had a tumble. Two of his mates lost their footing and let go of the trolley stretcher he was on. Some say that it was deliberate.’
The wind blew me against Oak. He stomped his foot. I edged my way around him and looked at the steep drop near to where we stood. The slope was full of boulders with pouring rain cascading down. I prayed to Krishna to free the soul of the poor man that had fallen.
Arjuna touched my shoulder. ‘We must be careful on this last leg of our journey. The cows are slipping on this narrow path.’
I turned and nodded. Mike shook his water-drenched hair and squeezed more rain from his shaggy black beard. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll deliver the herd intact. Can you see through the mist ahead? We’re nearly there.’
Ah, if only I could see, but the fog was too thick. My muscles throbbed, my feet were sore and my heart ached for the dead man. Still, there was no room for sentiment. Onwards we tramped through the squelching mud and icy gales that tried to halt our progress.
Then finally, amid the raucous mooing of the cows, the loud chanting of the soldiers and the whooshing of wind past our ears, we arrived at the top of the mountain.
‘Home,’ Arjuna said.
Wiping away the unkempt hair stuck to my forehead, I st
ared at the tree-lined clearing. At the vast purple mountains in the distance, veiled in heavy black clouds, at the undulating weather blasted meadows, and knew that we were indeed, home.
***
Adara sat on the edge of her seat and yanked off the goggles. She rubbed her eyes, blinked, then stood. Walking but a few feet she poked the box where she had taken the first disc, waited for the drawer to slide open and replaced it.
Her head buzzed with the images of sodden cattle, rain-drenched mountains and dozens of tired folk tramping towards a place they knew nowt about.
Touching the wall she traced her fingers across the many recessed repositories and spoke out loud, ‘Are these my ancestors?’
‘Do not question. Listen, see and learn.’
‘Kate? I thought you gone. Do you watch from outside?’
‘Yes, from a recess with a screen linked to a cam inside the room. I pass by occasionally and look in. My dear, do you wish to take a break?’
Adara shook her head.
‘Then press the next drawer.’
She did, and another slim tray containing an info disc popped out. Adara took out the device, placed it into the glasses, put them on and sat back down. With a clap of her hands, she made the room darken into a winter’s twilight.
The complete
Chronicles of Mayer Parts 1- 4
will be available to purchase from 17th August 2017
The Song of Forgetfulness
For more details about the books in The Song of Forgetfulness series, please visit the website:
http://www.thesongofforgetfulness.com/
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http://www.oddlybooks.com
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